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ms-demeanor · 1 month

Note

You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

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luveline · 10 months

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𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

when an unknown intruder breaks into your apartment, you call hotch. he races to make it to you in time. requested here. fem!reader, 3.7k

cw home invasion, assault, attempted sexual assault, reader is badly hurt/held at gunpoint, please read with care for the content warnings above

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Hotch?" you whisper into the phone, your voice barely audible.

"Who is this?"

Hotch doesn't always look at who's calling at night, he just answers. Bad habit. You curl in on yourself where you're on your knees in the closet, trying not to wheeze breathlessly down the receiver. "Hotch, it's me. I need you to come and help me."

"What's wrong?" He doesn't ask why you're whispering. "Are you at home?"

"There's someone in my apartment."

"You're sure?"

You shift backwards into the embrace of your hanging coats and dresses. It feels as though tens of hands are petting your shoulders, a shiver racing along your spine as a floorboard creaks somewhere in your kitchen.

"I heard them open my door. I don't have my taser, I…" You stop talking when you hear more movement, terrified you'll be discovered. Regret clings to you. How many times has Morgan offered to teach you self defence personally? "I don't know how they got inside."

It doesn't take more than that for Hotch to click into work mode. "Stay on the phone with me. Don't talk. I'm going to put you on hold to call Morgan. I will be ten seconds at most. Don't panic. Don't hang up. If you think you can leave without being seen or heard, leave, but if you can't, don't show him where you are."

The invader's footsteps track to the bedroom. You know at once that your tired mind isn't hallucinating a bad scenario to keep you up —this is real.

You had the hindsight to close your laptop and push it under the bed along with your go-bag, a rucksack full of clothes that you take on cases in different states as part of the BAU. You'd made a quick assessment —your job more than prepared you for this— based on the little information you had. Either the invader knows nothing about you and has assumed you'd be home, or they watch you enough to think you'd be elsewhere. If they think you're here, you're in danger of being assaulted, kidnapped, or murdered. If they think you're away, you're in danger of being robbed. One scenario is a thousand times more preferable than the other.

You can't help but think of the horrible things you've seen. You know intimately what kind of damage one person can do to someone at their mercy.

The hold sound is a quiet droning that freaks you out. If you can hear it, the intruder might be able to, too. Like the low hum of the fridge at night or the bumping of the dyer.

You hang up the phone.

"I know you're here."

Your pulse flies through the roof. It pounds so hard you can feel it everywhere, the tip of your nose, your eyelashes. You look through the dark of your closet and panic in the fullest definition of the word. Your heart can't sustain this for long.

You failed to think of a third possibility. The intruder watches you enough to know you're home. The BAU has a lot of enemies. Anyone could be waiting for you on the other side of the door.

"Come out and I'll be kind," the intruder sing-songs.

You type out a text with shaking hands, your message nearly illegible.

They knowa 8m hjome. Cant talkk dontcall me

Thirty seconds elapse. A reply comes through. You smother the chirp with your chest. It sounds loud as a shot in the relative quiet.

Police dispatch 5mins. I'm 10mins. Morgan 12. I will be there as soon as I can. Protect yourself

That's easy for him to say. You drop your phone in defeat but scramble to pick it up again when you realise it's your best weapon. Or… You crawl to the opposite end of the closet to your shoe rack and slide the shoes apart with honey slow movements, your breath coming in quick, too-loud pants. You never expected to feel this way, you thought you'd know exactly what to do, how to react, but this feels outside of reality.

You brace the long heel of a shoe between your fingers. Your hand is a vice.

In your bedroom, the intruder goads you. "I know you're home, Y/N. There's only so many places for me to look, you know? But if you make me check each one, I'll be unhappy when I find you."

What the fuck? you think. Breaking apart the fear like a knife is anger, a new shot of adrenaline. Who is this guy? You want to spring from the closet and show him how unhappy you are, but your chances of survival improve the longer you can hide. If he has a gun, that's it. You could be dead in the next two minutes. No amount of anger would save you.

You could be dead in the next two minutes.

thank you dpr everything, for being my friend aaron, you text. You know how embarrassing it will be to have said goodbye if nothing bad happens to you, but you also know how haunted Hotch will be if he can't get to you in time. You aren't foolish enough to unravel your feelings for him over text, but you're sentimental enough to think they'd matter to him. He'd want to know.

If things go bad please knoeew that I loved my life and my work and you and the tram more than anything

After a moment, you add, If things don't go bad please nevrr mentiom this

Footsteps at the closet door. A pause that feels gargantuan, the silence so heavy it threatens to snap the floorboards beneath your knees.

"Found you."

You leap up and throw yourself at the closet door as hard as you can, gasping when it swings on the hinges and clips your opposition in the leg. You don't think, you don't look at his face, you simply drive the point of your shoe into his collar.

He gasps. Something hard and rigid whips upward, your neck snapping to one side as the skin of your cheek splits, gunmetal glancing off of bone. You drop down onto your ass, half out of necessity and half to get away from the pain. You can't outrun it, nor can you escape the forthcoming assault, grunting in shock as the bottom of the gun comes down atop your head. It was likely meant to incapacitate you, but all it does is hurt.

You flip onto your front, stagger onto your hands and knees, and launch yourself up through the bedroom doorway. You only have to get away.

He sweeps your legs from under you barely ten feet down the hall.

You fall. Your knees hit the hallway slats and your face follows, the nerve endings in your teeth ringing one by one and your eyes tearing up as your nose makes a huge thwacking sound. Gasping, you rush to cover your face though the damage is done. Your gasp turns to a sob, hands quickly wetted by blood.

"Stupid bitch," he hisses.

You crawl into the kitchen. He steps on the back of your thigh.

"I have a G43 pointed straight at the back of your fucking head."

"Good for you?" you say, eyes squeezed closed.

You whimper as he grinds his foot into your leg.

"Don't think I won't use it when I'm done with you."

You shake your head from side to side. That can't be what he's here for.

You should ask him what he wants, or threaten him with the approaching police sirens. You should've tried to climb out of your fire escape. You should've set the door alarm as soon as you came home, but you're just so fucking tired lately you must've forgot. Everything feels like a chore. Right now, you're exhausted.

"What are you going to do?" he asks you.

You won't negotiate. You don't answer.

Forceful, no time to protect yourself, he kicks you in the side of the face. It hurts worse than the fall, that shattering pain like a firework under your skin. You struggle to keep your mouth shut, hoping that your whining cry is less audible to him than it is to you, scrambling backward toward the cabinets. You're defeated. Maybe you deserve it, for it to happen so easily. Three minutes and you're down.

"I asked you what are you going to do, Agent?"

"What am I supposed to say?" you ask. Even to your own ears, you sound pathetic.

"Whatever I want you to. Now get up, honey." You cringe. "Unless you want to stay on the floor like a dog?"

"Don't call me that," you say, wincing at the grinding sensation of your jaw.

"What, a dog? Or… honey?" His tone is smug. "I thought you'd like that. It's what your boss calls you, isn't it? Late at night when he drops you off. Not strictly professional."

You groan and turn onto your side. The police sirens are getting close. You live in a busy place near a main road, the sirens could be for anybody, but you need them to be for you.

"Get up, honey. You can pretend I'm him, if you like. I'll make it easy on you. I can be nice."

You deliberate. Do as he says, or risk further agitation. Do what he says. Live to see the end of the night.

Or drag it out. Give Hotch enough time to get here.

"You'll pretend to be him?" you ask, sniffing. You can't tell if you're crying or there's blood on your face.

"Aw. To begin with, sure."

You sit up. For the first time, you look your attacker in the face. It's difficult to tear your eyes from the barrel, but you do. He has a cruel face, as tall and formidable as Hotch is but with none of his lightness. You put on your softest expression, gazing at him through tears. When you speak, the fear is real, even if you're attempting a facade. "You'll be gentle?"

"No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?" His lip curls in disgust.

"I don't know," you mumble, looking down at the floor. "You said you'd be nice."

"We both know you don't like nice."

"I do," you say, finding your footing in the charade, the sorry victim, whatever he needs you to be for now. You hate giving him anything, but you know in the moment that you'll do what you need to do to save yourself from injury. "I haven't… I haven't done stuff in a long time, I can't just rush into things."

The gun makes a quiet clicking sound as he points it with more fervour. "Like I believe that. You're probably fucking Hotchner on the side."

There, that jealousy. He's been watching you, he knows where you live, what you want, and he's still convinced that you're fucking Hotch. It's not logical.

You cling to the threads, trying to pull apart his composure. You'd assumed him an anger-excitation rapist, unafraid to hurt you as he already has, but now you're thinking something else.

"You think I'm sleeping with my boss? Why?"

"Besides your constant need to be touching him? It's disgusting, you throw yourself at someone who doesn't want you. You're pathetic. I can make you better."

You see movement in the corner of your vision. Dark hair, a stony expression. Hotch stands at the precipice of the kitchen in a bulletproof vest, a finger to his lips. Sh.

Your relief knocks a breath out of you. The invader takes it for pain at being read.

"Look," he says, softer. Not genuine softness, but practised. As soon as you give in, he'll drop it. You're both acting for one another, but only one of you is a profiler. "You'll forget all about Agent Hotchner once we're done. So just get up."

You hold out your hand. His eyes light up with malice as he leans down to take it, his gun finally aimed away from your face.

Hotch moves in.

"Drop the weapon."

Your attacker whirls. Hotch doesn't hesitate. Front sight, controlled trigger press, follow through. A bang like a clap of thunder fills the room.

You flinch down into yourself. Everything goes a little white for a while, people running into the room, a gun skittling across your kitchen tile. Your ears ring from the bang of two bullets and you're sure you've been hit, you're hurting so much, but hands squeeze under your arms to tell you otherwise.

"You're okay," Hotch says, knee against your thigh, face ducked down to meet your eyes. "Hey, can you hear me?"

You shake your head. You can hear him, but you're far from okay. Hotch bites commands over his shoulder, holding your waist in his hands like he's worried you'll slip out of them. Tight. Too tight. You suck in as big a breath as you can manage and choke on it, coughing, the wild sting of your wounds a ringer.

"You did so well," he says as he catalogues your injuries, his frown deepening. He tilts your head up to the light.

"I knew you were on your way," you deflect.

"You were talking him down."

"No, I was surrendering."

"You didn't give in until you saw me. You weren't surrendering."

"But I would have," you whisper, closing your eyes.

"Doing what you need to to survive isn't easy. But you do it."

You hang your head.

—

Hotch winces at the sound of your skin being sewn closed. Morgan sits beside you in the back of the ambulance holding your hand, your fingers twitching between his with every tug. They dosed you and applied a general anaesthesia, but the pain is pervasive. His eyes keep moving back to your hand in Morgan's. He isn't jealous —he's annoyed with himself. Hotch should be the one holding your hand.

He should've hugged you. The absence of it feels awkward between you, though he's positive that that's the last thing you're thinking of right now.

"Will you have to set her nose?" Morgan asks.

The paramedic shakes his head. "Not broken. Just very badly bruised. Even the bone."

"That doesn't need a cast?"

Hotch should hold your hand, should hug you, should be organising the scene. Should, should, should. The only thing he's managed to do since he incapacitated your stranger is watch you for signs of life.

You're despondent. In shock, no doubt. You let your friends pass you from place to place with little more than pained sighs for input.

JJ does an excellent job of surveying the goings on, while Rossi and Reid take care of some of the bigger questions: who is this guy, what did he want, and how did it come to happen?

What did he want? Hotch can guess. Rage collects like the heart of a furnace, a molten cup of steel in his throat as what he heard you say plays over and over in his head.

You'll be gentle?

No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?

He'll never forget the way you sounded asking that question. Terrified, begging for a scrap of mercy.

Emily approaches from behind. "We have a name." Hotch tips his head to show he's listening. "Paulo Danvers. He was part of a crew that installed her security parameters a few months ago. He was vetted. This shouldn't have happened."

"No, it shouldn't have." Hotch lowers his tone, "She said she wasn't sure she set the lock."

"It wouldn't have mattered. He disengaged it from the outside." Emily takes a few steps closer to the ambulance. "Hey. Morgan taking care of you?"

"Don't I always?" Morgan asks, clapping your arm gently.

You don't answer.

"What, you're not talking to me?" Emily asks. She's not mad, the opposite. Concern lines her eyes, thin brows pinching together at the starts, though she does her best to smile through it.

"I don't feel well," you say quietly.

"Yeah? You're not squeamish, are you?"

"Don't think so."

"It's shock," says the paramedic.

"What's your pain like?" Hotch asks. He's the only person you'll give a straight answer to. "Bad?"

"Yeah." Your hand is lax in Morgan's.

"I can give you slow release tramadol to last the night or codeine pretty much immediately. It's up to you. And I'm really not comfortable with releasing you without next of kin. Do you have family in the area?"

You shake your head. "It's just Hotch. Agent Hotchner," you correct yourself, nodding at him.

"You're her partner?" the paramedic asks. He can sense the disapproval.

"Her boss."

"Not her partner?"

"He's my closest friend," you say.

He's never heard you say that before, but it's true.

"I wish you were my boss," the paramedic jokes, turning back to her supplies as she peels off her gloves. "Maybe I'd get better sick pay."

You're given slow release tramadol and officially pronounced to be on the mend. If he didn't have an FBI badge, you'd be spending the night on a ward. He'd prefer if you did, but you clearly don't want to be somewhere alone right now, and he just wants to give you what you want after having your choices held over your head.

He's not offended when Emily asks if you'd prefer to stay with her. It's harrowing what might have happened to you had you not heard the initial break in, and the perpetrator would've been a man like Hotch. Tall, white, dark-haired. He wouldn't blame you for needing space from him to feel safe tonight, but he's relieved when you turn her down.

"You don't have to act like something happened to me," you say.

Hotch clicks down the locks of his car and turns on the overhead light. You squirm in the passenger seat, looking wrecked. Your chin is split, your nose a dark purple mess cut by white splint. You have a cut on your cheek and another just above your eye.

"You don't think something happened?" he asks, hands on his legs. He can tell you wish he would start the car and take you home without pressing.

"No, I know, I look awful, but he didn't do anything to me." Why is it so hard to say what it could have been? "You don't have to act like I'm gonna wig if you touch me."

"You won't mind if I hug you?" he asks.

"No. No, I want you to."

It's thankfully a short gap to cover as Hotch leans over the console. He's careful of your face and still you mumble a tired, "Ouch," in his ear.

He rubs your back, slow and soft. "You okay?" he asks.

You don't answer for a while. It doesn't matter, Hotch'll sit here in his parked car for hours if you want him to, hands on your hunched back. Your face hides away. He can feel and hear your distress building, and he wants you to cry if you need to, but it'll hurt.

"Sh," he hushes you gently, "it's okay."

"I'm fine." You sound welled up.

"Someone broke into your home and held you at gunpoint. You don't have to be fine."

"Yeah, I do. It's my job."

"No, that's not your job," he says, closing his eyes. "This has nothing to do with your job. This is about something bad happening to you. Don't put walls up now. It won't work, it never does."

He tries to back away in case you're overwhelmed.

"Wait," you say, your panic like a cough.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says.

You sniffle, nodding into his chest. Hotch has comforted a hundred victims of violent assault. He's held the faces of women he didn't know hoping to give them something solid to lean on. But it's different with you, because you and Hotch aren't simply friends. There's a deeper vein of affection, and tonight's event is a jagged slash against it, bringing every unbidden feeling he has for you to the surface. He can't get how scared you sounded out of his head. He knows that feeling is still there.

"How did you get here so fast?" you asked.

"I took the side road. And went unavoidably fast."

You make a small, small sound. He's known you for long enough to understand what it demarcates, unsurprised when the trembling of your shoulders turns to pained shaking. Hotch holds you delicately. He's done so much in his life, made a thousand and one mistakes, used a heavy hand when he could've been sweeter. He's determined to get this part right.

"I'm with you now," he says. "I'm sorry I couldn't–" This is harder than he imagined. He presses on. "Couldn't protect you from the start."

"You know why I called you?" you ask, your tone similarly soft.

Hotch doesn't bother answering. The answer is unsaid, loudly heard.

"I knew you'd come," you finish.

He puts a hand on your neck to encourage you into place, kissing the side of your head. Hotch will always come when you call.

That night, you ask to sleep in his room. I'll sleep on the floor, just don't want to be alone. You're in ragtag clothes he'd scraped together for you, and after helping you wash the blood from your hair and face, you're even more impossible to say no to than usual, looking small in a way you haven't before. Hotch sets you up in bed next to him and wonders if he'll ever sleep next to someone he hasn't let down.

You put that notion straight in your sleep. Hotch lays awake sick with the idea that he's failed you, and you, frowning, snoring, covered in cuts, curl into his side. You cling to his arm so hard he's certain you're awake at first, a bouquet of bruises painted across your cheek.

Hotch pulls the blanket up over your shoulder, planting a chaste kiss to your forehead.

He whispers your name, not sure what he'd say if you answered.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed♡ I haven't written long form (ish) for Hotch in a while so I'm nervous but I hope it's good!! let me know also if you'd like a second part cos usually I don't feel like there's much left to tell but for this one the could actually confess :o

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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vixstarria · 7 months

Text

Gentle Warding Bond

Astarion was lost in thought, staring off into space with an open journal on one knee, absentmindedly fiddling with two rings in his hand. He was always picking up diaries and journals wherever he went, with an almost morbid curiosity about the lives of their dead authors.

“Find something interesting?” you asked.

“These rings we found at the House of Healing...” he answered, still in deep thought. “They appear to be counterparts. The wearer of one of them can cast a blessing on the other. That person gains a boon that protects them from harm. But any wound or injury that does reach them will be shared by the caster.”

“How quaint” you said, sitting down next to him.

“This journal belonged to the last wearer of the ‘giving’ ring. The poor sop died from injuries sustained by their lover.” Astarion tossed the journal off to the side.

“What a stupid way to die” you commented after a moment of silent contemplation.

“A bond that will drag you to your grave after your lover, should they fall. Or if you fail to protect them. Together as one against all others... Even in death.” he mused.

“This is the kind of bullshit that breeds romance novels” you added.

“Yes, it’s so nauseatingly sentimental I might actually be sick” laughed Astarion.

“So saccharine” you scoffed.

“Revoltingly sappy” agreed Astarion.

“And absurdly foolish.”

“Imbecilic!”

“Simply mad.”

You’d been looking into each other’s eyes for the latter portion of this exchange.

“It sounds more like a curse than a boon, really” said Astarion, still looking into your eyes and reaching out to take your hand.

“What idiot would do such a thing?” you managed, hoarsely.

Astarion slipped one of the rings onto your finger, following suit with the other for himself. He uttered an incantation, and a warm feeling spread over your body. You felt stronger, safer, more assured. And you experienced a sensation that you could only describe as a feeling of his presence, wrapping you in an unseen embrace.

Astarion leaned in to place a soft, lingering kiss on your lips.

"You’re a good actor, but I can hear your heart racing, darling” he whispered once you broke the kiss. You just bit his lip in response, eliciting a soft growl from him.

“Come on, love” he purred, getting up. “Let’s go kill something.”

~~~~~

Next in series - Admit that you love me

Series master list

AO3

#astarion #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #bg3 act 2 #true love’s caress #true love’s embrace #guess who found the rings today

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explosionshark · 11 months

Note

Oh my God everyone kicking Buffy out and putting Faith in charge is the FUNNIEST moment of collective girlfailure in all of Buffy. Genuinely a number one. Faith has been out of prison for less time than a Hulu Trial and they’re just like “put her in charge we are SICK OF THIS BLONDE BITCH” and it goes exactly as you expect. Nothing but respect for my idiot in chief

It's so fucking funny bc Faith doesn't even really want it, it's just pretty much her being a victim of her own Hotness Bubble like

The Potentials are all freaked out and bummed over how Their Lives Are All In Danger and Buffy's been stressed so she hasn't been the fun parent lately. Then Faith rocks up - they don't KNOW her. But she's SO hot. She's funny. She's got this rep. She's got slaying experience. And, crucially, she's really exuding this kind of dirtbag ex con zen that these idiot teenagers IMMEDIATELY misread as competence.

List of things Faith is competent at by season 7

-slaying (I'll give her that!)

-looking good in tank tops

-being pretty chill when people take shots at her over the whole Going Evil Phase

-being stabbed

-sustaining head trauma

-i mean getting her ass absolutely handed to her repeatedly without dying

-being gay for buffy

You'll note this list does NOT INCLUDE any sort of leadership skills. She's literally JUST hot and kind of charming.

She is the deadbeat dad who has the kids on the weekend and doesn't make them stick to bedtimes or do their homework and she let's them play M rated video games and say "bitch."

AND THEY PUT HER IN CHARGE. THE SLAYER WHOSE MOST NOTABLE ACCOMPLISHMENTS ARE FAILING TO END THE WORLD AND SUCCEEDING AT GIVING HERSELF BRAIN DAMAGE.

And what does she do when she's in charge? Almost immediately receive another traumatic brain injury.

#btvs #faith lehane #my specialest girl.... the ultimate poor little meow meow #stag did you know i wrote 80k words of faith getting railed by buffy last year? cause i did

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igotanidea · 8 months

Text

Distraction: Jason Todd x fem!reader

Summary : You can;t get over your ex and your best friend Jason is kind enough to be your toy to distract you from those thoughts.

warnings: SMUT! MINORS DNI!!, swearing and bad night choices.

***

„Son of a ......!”

It was 2 AM. Y/N was hanging in her friend’s apartment since her own was kindly flooded by her neighbours and was currently awaiting renovation.

Yes, she was supposed to sleep, but instead she reached for that stupid phone and her stupid brain made her do things she definitely shouldn’t have done. Not only at this hour, but like ever.

“Stupid idiotic fucker!” she hissed again.

“What you doing, nerd?” Jason, freshly out of patrol and out of his Red Hood gear leaned on the doorframe observing her carefully with a stern expression.

“Don’t worry the word was not aimed at you. This time.” She smirked, not stopping angrily scrolling through the page.

Jason smirk grew even wider when he approached the couch and sat down next to her.

“Whose name are you typing…..?” he asked innocently but Y/N knew better than to fall for that.

‘None of your business…..” she muttered, but before she could finish the sentence he grabbed her phone and tossed her into the other room.

“JASON!!!” she jumped off the couch terrified by his action.

“Whose name were you typing?” he grabbed her by the waist preventing her from moving.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” her inflaming enabled her to break free from his iron grip and she rushed to the bedroom immediately to assess the damage her phone sustained “what is wrong with you!?”

Despite her anger however, she could not beat the vigilante trained skills, speed and agility, so obviously Jason beat her in the race, quickly grabbing the device from the floor and holding it above her head easily while running through her DMs, texts and social media.

“JASON!!”

He had already found what he’s been looking for but it didn;t mean he was going to surrender that fastly.

“It’s a violation of privacy!!”

He didn’t let go. If anything his grip on the phone only grew harder as he stayed silent for the moment reading something, while his face was growing darker with every other message he came across.

“Give! It! Back!” poor Y/N was significantly lower than Jason so she tried to retrieve her property by jumping next to him like a little enraged kangaroo, yet failing miserably.

“You’re not getting this phone back anytime soon, Y/N.” he put the object on the highest shelf, completely out of her reach crossing his arms and looking at her sternly “You got some explaining to do.”

“Fuck….” She hissed

He said nothing, his blue piercing eyes focused on her, knowing well enough she would break soon. He could smell the guilt coming from the girl from a mile away.

“Fine!” she threw her hands in the air in frustration plumping on the bed, ruffling the sheets in the process. “Fine! I was stalking my ex. Kind of.”

“And why exactly would you do that?�� he smirked but the intensity in his tone skyrocketed to 200 %. This was serious. Y/N was his friend. His best friend and the things she’s been doing lately was not good for her mental health. And he could not have that.

She sighed deeply and fell on the bed on her back facing the ceiling, knowing she lost this round. Once Jason set his mind to something he was not going to let go. And apparently what he said his mind to at this moment was getting the answer out of her. Obviously lying was not an option, cause he was like a human lie detector (which sometimes made her wonder whether it was another aftermath of the Lazarus Pit)

“come on, Y/N. tell me. You know I take those stuff personally.” Jason muttered falling on the bed next to her, on his stomach propping himself on the elbows so he could look at her face.

“Because my stupid mind won’t let me rest…..” she sighed, closing her eyes.

“Hey, you do realise I’m here right?” his gaze and voice softened a bit. He always appreciated when people were honest with him. “If you feel like venting, ranting or even just talking I’m your man. Just please, for fuck’s sake don’t sneak around pretending like you’re good when you do stuff that are far from good. I won’t have that”

“Yeah well my body won’t let me rest either……” she blurted.

“Your body?” he raised an eyebrow in surprise, getting a bit curious of what she was going to say next.

“Yeah and I can’t even use my toy here…..” she cut out, her eyes growing wide realising what she just said.

He smirked.

She blushed.

ShitShitShitShitShitShitShitShitShitShitShit…………………………………

“Oh, god… that came out wrong……”

“Oh no… please, continue.” he grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief

“Screw you, Todd…..” she grabbed a pillow, putting it tightly onto her face and letting out a frustrated groan. “You’re mocking very personal matters here!”

“Did you just say you’re lusting over your ex?” he grinned, not even trying to hide how hilarious this whole situation was to him.

“NO!” she jumped and sat up facing him, her face being a mix of fluster and outrage.

“Oh you so did!” his grin grew even wider

“Stop it!”

“You said and I quote – my mind and my body won’t let me rest. Can’t deny it now.” Jason scooted a little bit closer to her, clearly playing with her.

“I didn’t say I was lusting over my ex! I just…. do…… generally…..” Y/N muttered to herself but obviously he heard that loud enough.

“Oh, really?” Jason raised an eyebrow not ready to drop the teasing. “So it's a general attraction to the human body of your ex?”

“NO!”

“You sure….?” He trailed his tone changing into a bit deeper, more hoarse as he looked into her eyes.

“Yes…..?” she tried to be convincing but out of nowhere it came out a bit like a question. She couldn’t for the love of god figure out why that gaze of his got her shivering a little bit.

“So who is this person that you are attracted to…..?” he moved a little closer to her, grabbing her hand and playing with her fingers. “Do I know him, perhaps…..?” he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, his breath on her face and neck making her skin tingle.

“Stop it……” she warned, closing her eyes, wanting to push him away and end that silly little game they were playing, but finding herself completely unable to.

“Stop what, princess……?” he paused pulling back to look at her again, his eyes sparkling, corners of his mouth lifting slightly at the blush creeping on her cheeks. “The flirting? The closeness? Teasing you about your ex?”

“Jace……” she almost moaned as she felt the warmth radiating from his presence, so close to her, her body aching for his touch, his kiss, caress, anything. Poor girl didn’t even realise how touch starved she was since the break-up with her ex. Not until now.

“Y/N……?” Jason asked, his voice turning a bit more caring and serious as he watched her body tense and shiver and her breath hitching. “Y/N……, princess….. “ he cupped her cheek forcing her eyes on his face “How long has it been since the break up?”

“A… a couple months…..” she breathed out, her body getting a mind of its own, much to her embarrassment. It was truly pathetic to turn into a puddle just because of a sexual teasing from Jason Todd and a few caresses. She was too old to act like a silly teenager who’s been touched for the first time. But she just couldn’t help it.

The silence that fell between them when she stuttered those two words was deafening and she cursed herself internally. God, he wouldn’t let her live it down. He’ll make fun of her mercilessly and leave her alone to deal with the fire that’s currently burning inside her. The fire that she knew well enough couldn’t be satisfied with her toys of her fingers. And that realisation was overwhelming. Poor Y/N was barely holding herself from desperate whimpers. But she couldn’t have had Jason laughing at her current state.

“Y/N……” he whispered tenderly and she let out a gasp, shocked by both his tone and her body’s reaction to his tone. “Have you been lonely this whole time?” his hand on her cheek was slowly starting to burn and the fact that he begun rubbing her skin was surely not helping at all.

“Hmmmm…” she whimpered, her shoulders slumping.

“That definitely wasn’t a no…….”he grabbed her hand now and put it on his neck, letting her feel his body while simultaneously leaning forward to kiss her shoulder “I can change this whole lonely thing princess…..” his mouth moved a bit higher, trailing over her neck and moving to that sensitive spot just below her ear.

“I…..I……” she stuttered and let out a single, quiet and soft moan when the tip of his tongue trailed over her earlobe, involuntarily clenching her thighs as well, already needing friction. It truly was embrassing giving herself to him on a silver platter “ah….I ….think…..”

“Yes, Y/N, baby? What do you think……?” he muttered kissing her cheek now and not stopping there. ‘Because I think your body language speaks to me pretty…well..…. “ he grabbed her other hand and put it on his chest letting her caress his still clothed body, letting her imagination run loose. Allowing all her little fantasies to come in her head. She looked so anxious of where this was going and yet so eager at the same time, not stopping him, while her fingers played with the material of his clothes.

“I…..I need some distraction…..”

“A distraction, huh? his voice dropped another octave, on purpose obviously. Jason definitely knew how to use his voice for his benefit and it drew Y/N like a moth to the flame. His hands landed on her thighs travelling up as he made sure to use just enough strength to made her feel….

“Jace……” she couldn’t hold back another moan when those big strong hands reached for the hem of her shirt, lifting it just an inch to brush over her burning skin, that instantly covered with goosebumps, shiver running down her spine. Out of pure instinct she gripped his shoulders, her whole body moving slightly forward.

“I don’t need batteries, princess…” he murmured, grabbing her waist and pulling her on his lap in one swift motion not giving her any chance to object, not that she was going to. “I can be your toy……” his lips moved to the crease of her neck and shoulder, nibbling gently, enjoying all the little whimpers and moans she was making already and loving the way she was still fighting her own urges.

Jason wanted to break her, to give her good time, but he aimed to achieve that goal in a gentle way, thought the tender convincing, exposing her true needs. His hand slid though her hair, pulling her head back a little to move along her neck, licking the skin and getting another sound of pleasure.

“Ah…mmm…Jace…. It’s late….We’re both tired….. We shouldn’t....”

“come on, baby…..” now he was biting on her earlobe “ don’t fight yourself… you want this…. You need this. And most importantly…..you deserve it…… I’ve been there too, princess….. That's no shame.....Just let it happen.....”

Oh he was right….. He was so freaking right. And he knew it.

“I can give you this distraction you so desperately crave…..” he said while slowly laying her on her back, his body hovering over her “and so much more too….” She could feel his breaths against the nape of her neck. His body shifted so that he was lying on top of her, waiting for an answer.

“No feelings involved…… I don’t need feelings…..” she moaned

“No feelings…..” he whispered, slowly undoing the first button of her shirt, moving the collar aside and brushing his nose and lips over her collarbone.

“Shit…..” her back arched immediately.

“You want to feel me…..?” he kissed her briefly, giving her foretaste before pulling away and looking into her eyes “you sure you want no feelings involved?”

“Mmhh… yes… definitely. I don’t need falling.” Y/N was getting desperate, tired of his charades and the whole foreplay. “It’s just sex, nothing more……”

“Mhm…. Absolutely…. I’m just helping you out here….. with not thinking. With distracting you.”

He brushed his lips against her ear, his breath hot on her exposed skin. “What if I say it’s more than a distraction? What if I mean this? What if I say I want you and I need you?” He paused and she could feel his fingers gently running down her neck.

„Mhmhm......” she whimpered „I don’t need feelings.....”

„Okay than baby.....” he pressed his whole body weight onto her, lips finding the pulse point on her neck biting gently making sure to leave a hickey there, tip of his tongue flicking over the sting to ease the pain a bit. „Let’s forget about feelings..... It;s just physical release” he moved his hands, down her body, tracing the skin over the hem of her sleeping shorts. „you’re so tense baby.....” he brushed his nose down her clothed torso making her shudder „so tense, but I can ease that tension.....” his mouth hovered over the place his hands were tracing barely a minute ago.

And she couldn’t form a single word, just waiting and wishing and hoping he would make that sweet promise come true for her.

„Say it Y/N......” he kissed her stomach „Just say you want this and I can take care of the rest..... Do you want this princess?” his hands dived under her shirt, travelling all the way up to her breast, smirking when he touched her bare breast, squeezing the sensitive part of her.

„Mhmm.. shit!” she could feel the heat between her legs, the evidence of her wetness on full display since her shorts did nothing to hide it.

„Do....you.... want... this?” he teased mercilessly starting to play with her nipples.

„Yes......” she finally breathed out, her mind turning off

But it was not enough for Jason. He had to hear her beg for him. He was going to do everything she wanted but had to have his fun as well. So instead of fulfilling her needs he pressed his body more onto her, letting her feel how big and hard he already was. His lips hovered over hers, his fingers leaving her breast and moving to the lower buttons playing with them but not doing anything more than that

„That’s all I need to know, sweetness. Do you want this? Say it again.”

„Jace.....please.....”

He pressed his lips to hers, hard, brushing his hard on over her most sensitive part, smirking when she opened her legs a bit more and matched his movement.

It was only dry humping but they both knew how close to their limits of fooling around they were. Y/N was ready to beg for him and he was ready to surrender and finally shift all her attention to her body needs and not her thoughts.

„tell me you want me.....” he breathed heavily into her ear

„I..... I want you to help me out......”

„Oh, my sweet baby.... I’ll do so much more than that.....” he pulled her shorts down in one swift motion leaving her bottom completely bare, licking his lips at the view in front of him. „I’ll make you scream....” he spread her legs holding her thighs open so she wouldn’t dare changing position. „I’ll make you squirm and forget about your ex and whole world. I’ll give you the pleasure you never felt before.” he leaned leaned down and nuzzled his nose into her inside thigh, brushing it up to her most sensitive part, his eyes still focused on her, shining with lust and desire. „Tell me you want that.....” he licked the spot that was already aching for attention, the taste so sweat his eyes almost rolled to the back of his skull.

„YES!” she moaned, just that one tiny movement making her break completely.

She was lost.

Lost to him.

„Good girl....” he muttered getting down to business.

Before she realized what was happening, her legs were already on his shoulders and he was sucking, flicking and licking in all the right places focused only on making his previous words come true. He was going to make her feel as good as never before (and probably never after). It was not his intention to show off, but she knew that with all this skill he was currently presenting, making her clit burn and her whole body shiver he was going to wreck her for anyone else.

She moaned when he pushed against her folds.

She pulled at his hair when he started to eat her out.

He buckled her hips and practically fucked herself on his face when he add the fingers and started pumping in and out in a perfect pace, slowly, methodically pushing her to the climax.

She was reduced to the form of a moaning mess with each move, each brush, each caress.

„fuck....!” she scratched his scalp and he let out a groan sending a wave of pleasure through her pussy he was currently devouring „fuck... fuck, yes....!”

There was no more games, no more teasing. He was going to fuck her brains out. Just like she wanted, even though the poor girl had no idea what it meant when he first offered. She was going to remember his touch for a very, very long time, if not forever.

Their bodies took the steering wheel completely.

Y/N was begging and crying and sobbing.

Jason was giving and taking all at the same time, his cock throbbing in his jeans when he pushed her legs further apart and closer to her chest to get better access to her center.

God, she was delicious, Everything about her was perfect. Her body, her moans, her shivering, her pulling at his hair.... and god... her taste.

He had to keep his control to not cum in his pants at the thought he was the one making her feel like this. She was his. Everything about her was his at the moment and he was not going to waste any piece of his treasure.

It was perfect. Fucking perfect.

Except from one thing.

„Jace!!” she cried out, throwing her head back, ready for what was coming.

„No.....” he panted, pulling back and looking at her.

At that moment he didn’t look anything like the Jace she knew.

He looked like a fucking predator ready to take what he wanted.

What he needed.

And the way his eyes was so lust blown made her wanting, needy and even wetter. „No, princess. You’re not gonna come on my tounge or fingers... No..... I’m going to give you something so much better.

He practically ripped her shirt of her, exposing her completely, taking a second to enjoy her naked body on full display. Only for him. Just a second though, before throwing his own shirt away and attacking her chest.

She was on fire.

With the way he was biting all over her breasts with no mercy, rubbing, twisting and pinching her skin she just surrendered completely wrapping arms around him, digging nails into his back muscles only spurring him on with that gesture.

She wanted to beg for more, to cry, to scream his name but the intensity left her breathless, wordless, turned into a puddle with no words coming. The only thing she was capable of was panting and gasping, matching his movement, letting her body speak for her when he squirmed and flexed into his lips, tongue and teeth.

„J-J-J......”

„Yes.... I’m here baby....... Bet you could never get that with your toys, huh?” he sucked on her right nipple, twisting it with his tongue, abusing it, almost to the point of hurting but at this point of sexual drive and need she couldn’t care less, tangling fingers into his hair, pressing his head closer, wanting more and more...

He repeated the action with another nipple, making sure both of them were equally red and pebbled before releasing the other with a loud pop.

„how does that feel, baby?” he whispered „are you ready for the best part.....?” he didn’t wait for her answer, checking himself, his fingers brushing over her folds, gathering the slick and spreading it all over her entrance.

„Jace.... Jay.. please....please.....!

„Shhh, baby....” he pulled back to remove his jeans his hard and thick cock finally free, aching to dive inside her soft, warm and wet body. He grabbed the condom, opening it with his teeth while still looking into her eyes which turned her on even more and capably put it on.

He clearly had experience but it was not her worry of how many girls he had before. She only wanted his body, nothing more. That was what they agreed on. „I told you I’m your toy...... Now you can use me.....”

Jason didn’t waste another second taking her with one movement, bottoming out with ease, stretching her so deliciously they both moaned loudly at the feeling. But there was not time to rhapsodize. This was neither love nor intimacy to take any admiration breaks and whisper sweet nothigns to each other.

This was release and they only wanted to achieve the high.

So he started pushing without hesitation. In and out, in and out, fast, hard, relentlessly, the grip on her waist becoming so amazingly painful, definitely leaving bruises. His lips ended on her neck adding to the stimulation ready to give her all of him. Jason wanted her to feel every little thing she was missing for the last couple months.

But when his mouth travelled up and collided with hers his thought suddenly changed.

It was not just sex for him.

He didn’t just want to be her toy, her distraction.

He wanted her.

The warmth of her body, the tenderness of her touch, the taste of her soft lips, her moans and whimpers, yes.

But he also wanted her love.

And it was bad.

Cause that was not what she needed.

She said it: no feelings, no falling.

And the realization that he was not going to get what he wanted made him act erratic and a bit violent. He bit on her bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, but not stopping even when the metallic taste of it invaded his mouth. If anything it only made him more predatory kissing her with desire, unspoken need and unprecedented urgency while his hips was snapping relentlessly and he kept thrusting inside her.

He could die like that from the intensity and judging by the way her body was shuddering from the building orgasm she was not opposed to doing the same.

But he couldn’t let her choke, forced to leave her mouth and allow Y/N to breathe, instead moving to kiss and bit her neck.

If he couldn’t have her as his girl he was going to take her as his lover and use the opportunity to the maximum possibility.,

„Y/n.....” he groaned biting the sensitive skin, almost ripping her throat open.

„Jace...!” she cried out in response.

She was getting so close, so close and yet still greedy for more. Each snap of his hips send the wave of euphoria through her body, the feeling incomparable with anything, her body moving in line with the pace he set. They were on a highway to release now and as we all now, you can't turn around on the highway. There';'s only one way.

Forward.

And so they did. Speeding up even more, biting, scratching, touching, going at rough animalistic pace, not caring, not thinking, focused solely on release, making the bed shake and crack repeatedly.

„Fuck....!” she moaned feeling everything all at once, raking nails down his back, arching her whole body, feeling the band inside her on the verge of snapping, her body so ready to cum. "fuck... so good....!"

„yeah... fuck indeed....” he gasped. "you feel amazing, princess....." but If she was still able to talk then he was definitely doing something wring and had to add to the pleasure.....

„AH! Jace....” he screamed when he focused some additional attention on her clit, rubbing it with the perfectly practised motion. „yes.... yes.... yes.... yes!!”

„Fuck.... Y/N......, baby.....”

„Yes...!!”

„Just let go baby.....” he breathed out. God please let her come before I finish first... Jason thought to himself.

He was never the religious one, but it seemed like this time his prayers were answered when Y/N’s body tensed and released, once she cried out his name, finally exploding around him and he wished he could fuck her raw and actually become one with her.

Maybe in another life.

This was only fucking.

And he was letting her use him until she found someone new.

But definitely not better than him.

Her body finally got what it desperately needed and he couldn’t hide the smirk while pulling out and getting rid of the condom.

However, maybe it was a good thing she didn’t see how full of his come it was, cause with her intelligence and ability to connect the dots, she would figure out that what they just did might have meant more to him than to her.

It was better she didn’t know.

Or at least that was what he was trying to convince himself of when he helped her clean herself up and wrapped her in a blanket, putting an arm around her and pulling her close to his chest.

And staying awake while she slowly fell asleep, feeling satisfied in safe in her best friend embrace.

She stopped thinking, for sure.

But his mind was only begging to work.

Against him.

But still - It was so much better she didn't know what he truly felt.

@miraculous-panic I'm sorry, I just felt the insuperable urge to post it immediately.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n

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autistichalsin · 6 months

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If you're curious, this is what Halsin's letter says in the epilogue if you fail to break the Shadow Curse:

My friend, I was truly heartened to learn of your success in the fight against the Absolute- the whole of the Sword Coast and beyond owes you a debt that can never be repaid. I dearly wish I could have joined in your moment of celebration, but the Shadow Curse remains, and so my vigil must continue. Perhaps I shall yet discover a way to restore light to this place, but until then, the memories of my time traveling with you shall sustain me through all manner of hardships. If the Oak Father is kind, one day I shall feel the warmth of the sun and know the joys of your company once again. Yours until the end, Halsin

So... there is a LOT going on here. A lot. One, obviously, the heartbreak of Halsin resigning himself this way. "If the Oak Father is kind," he'll feel the warmth of the sun again?

The way he sees the player's company as something he longs for just as much as the sun. While confining himself to darkness and despair, what he longs for most- even more than nature itself- is sunlight and the player.

Which brings me to... you can feel the pining here. This letter was what finally cemented it for me: Halsin is, canonically, in all "good runs", in love with the player. Not "holds a lot of affection for the player that may or may not become romantic" like the others. This was what finally made me decide, beyond a doubt, he is ALWAYS in love with the player so long as they don't raid the Grove. This is just too much pining, too heavy of a romantic coding, too much he sees in the player, to be anything else.

He puts the player on par with sunlight. The thing he uses as a metaphor time and time again to explain as a basic need, something no life can live without. Something whose absence chokes the nature he loves so much into nothing. A need. That's what he considers the player.

And that's not even getting to "yours until the end," which is so obvious, I think it speaks for itself. With all the "I'm glad to be had"s and the "I am your servant, my love"s, Halsin is someone who- despite loving to be "unbound in nature"- considers a form of "being had" to be something of a love language. And here, knowing he will very possibly never see the player again unless a miracle happens or the player goes on a borderline suicide mission just to visit him, he still calls himself "yours". Even when he devotes himself to the land he couldn't heal, he still sees his heart as belonging with you, first and foremost.

And that's the happier explanation. The sadder explanation is that he's so tormented by the shadows and everything else that he's making up a fantasy in his head, of the player being his tragic, could-have-been love, just to cope. Just to convince himself there's something, someone, waiting for him should the curse ever be broken, so that he can imagine better is waiting for him, to give himself enough strength to endure the shadows for however long it takes, because the alternative is surrendering. And he can't let himself do that as long as he's needed. So, as he has done before, like when he convinced himself he liked being a sex slave to survive being a prisoner in the Underdark, he indulges in fantasy to survive- but instead of enslavement, it's solitary confinement.

Both are HEARTBREAKING options, in a scenario that was already beyond heartbreaking just before the epilogue.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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deviantly-inspired · 9 months

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Astarion is so interesting with his charlatan background when considering his approval/disapproval versus what actually gives him inspiration... it really can add a lot of nuance to his character.

in Act 2, there's a scene where you're in a den of enemies and you're being told to handle a group who failed their mission any way you see fit. You can kill them, fight them honorably in battle, or let them go. If you let them go, Astarion disapproves. Later, you're questioned as to why you let them go, where you'll get a persuasion or deception check: if you pick persuasion Astarion doesn't approve but he does get inspiration.

So now, he's not approved, exactly. But he's inspired. Which reads very, very interestingly if you're going for a "good" ending with Astarion. He disapproves of you saving the goblins. Why? He approves in most cases of you sparing "monsterous" things: the goblins in act 1, the hag, the gnolls. Why does he disapprove saving them here?

Well, the circumstances are different. You are, literally, surrounded by enemies at this point. And you're choosing mercy in an environment where that is objectively the stupid thing to do. But Act 1 shows us he wants us to be understanding towards "monsters" ; what he doesn't want is for us to be put into danger doing it.

Which makes sense. 200 years of abuse. If you play through his story, you know how compassion was treated by Cazador. And Moonrise tower, with it's viscera hidden in the walls and all these casual cruelties, must feel a bit like going back. So it's easy, then, for Astarion to fall into the mindset again; you've shown mercy where it isn't safe to show mercy. You're going to get yourself killed. of course he disapproves.

But then, later, he does approve of you lying about their fate (or, more accurately, you're intentions). He's inspired by it. He disapproved of what you did, but if you successfully lie about it he turns that around. Kindness doesn't have to be a death sentence. Mercy doesn't have to be weakness. Yes, it's more dangerous to be compassionate: that's what makes it so important.

So, in a "good" playthrough the way this can be read is Astarion, fearing for you, himself, the crew because you're choosing the wrong time to be nice. Only for him to be inspired when it works out. When no one gets hurt. Everyone gets to live (for now), even though you choose to be kind.

And I would like to add: it's only a -1 approval if you spare the goblins. Given there are actions in this game that can make approval sky rocket or plummet I think it's significant that acts of compassion only ever net a -1, consistently, throughout Acts 1 and 2.

I think a fair reading then would be: it's not that Astarion hates kindness or goodness or compassion. It's that Astarion has, quite literally, only just escaped 200 years of abuse. Kindness after horrors often chafes worse than cruelty, especially when it's long-term sustained horrors. Where was that kindness for him, throughout the last 200 years? Where was the compassion then? It's not anger towards you for choosing kindness: it's mourning the fact that no one ever showed that towards him. Of course he disapproves; if people are truly good and kind and compassionate and worth saving... why did no one ever save him?

#bg3 #astarion #bg3 meta #bg3 spoilers

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olekciy · 1 year

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A short reminder that Russia is imperialist, has been imperialist for a long time, and there's no way around that fact.

Sections of the Western left have developed a narrative according to which Russia has been gradually surrounded by NATO and that supposedly "provoked" Putin. It's increasingly difficult to sustain the notion that Russia is simply "defending itself" after 24 February 2022, but the thing is - the invasion did not come out of the blue. One needs a different narrative to understand what Russia actually is: an aggressive imperialist power alongside other imperialisms.

So, a different narrative:

- 1994: Russia, with US support, acquires Ukrainian nuclear arsenal in exchange for the assurances to respect Ukraine's territorial integrity

- 1997: Russia acquires the Sevastopol naval base and almost all of the ships (82%, to be exact)... in exchange for the assurances to respect Ukraine's territorial integrity!

- 2004: Russia meddles in Ukrainian presidential elections, fighting hard to force an undemocratic fraudulent outcome, but fails

- Mid-to-late 2000s: As punishment for Ukraine electing Yushchenko, Russia uses energy blackmail, a form of economic coercion not very different from the IMF and World Bank lending and conditionality

- 2008: NATO refuses to adopt a roadmap towards Ukraine's membership and in effect postpones the decision indefinitely. Ukraine's security is in no way guaranteed, while Russia has already demonstrated the propensity to use coercion to force Ukraine to do its bidding

- 2009: Dmitry Medvedev, then president, writes to Yushchenko that "Russia does not pose and cannot pose any kind of threat to Ukraine", so seeking NATO membership is stupid. Yea, sure

- 2014: Russia, which "does not pose and cannot pose a threat to Ukraine"... annexes Crimea. Really, Dima?? I thought you were for real??

Of course, by annexing Crimea Russia not only makes all the previous statements that it "can never pose a threat to Ukraine" a ridiculous lie, but also breaks the 1994 memorandum and 1997 treaty. "We are the Kremlin. Our word is worth nothing"

- Crimea's annexation provokes armed separatism in Donbas that Russia supports and coordinates, including direct military command and control, and then completely subordinates Donbas "authorities", in effect occupying the region

- Ukraine's still not in NATO, its security is still in no way guaranteed, and the supplies of US weapons only begin in 2018. They are kept to a minimum... out of fear of provoking Russia!

- Nevertheless, on 24 February 2022 Russia launches a full-scale invasion to establish 100% control over all of Ukraine in one way or another. There is literally no military development on the ground that could have provoked the invasion. On Russia's part, it's a war of choice in exactly the same way the invasion of Iraq was a war of choice for the US in 2003.

Now, this is only the general outline. One should add Russia's drowning of Ukraine with spies and agents of influence, money to corrupt Ukrainian politicians and massive acquisition of Ukrainian assets to impose economic and political dependency.

These are well-known facts, but so many on the left refuse to see the story behind them. It's a story of decades of imperialist aggression, culminating in a war that cost 150,000 lives in 2022 alone. Any discussion of left-wing internationalism should begin with recognizing the reality of what Russia is and what it did.

#ukraine war #ukraine #imperialism #left #russian imperialism #russian ukrainian war #russia #policy #war #nato #russian chauvinism #anti-imperialism #history

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devildom-moss · 10 months

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I request…diavolo courting headcanons with an exasperated barbatos sprinkled in

Super late, but I hope you enjoy it. I love when Diavolo causes trouble for Barbatos but Barbs just kind of manages because affection duty. I could probably have done a few more, but I think I got a good chunk of stuff. I put a few MC courting Diavolo at the end since I realized the request wasn't specific that only Diavolo did the courting and because Diavolo is babygirl/babyboy and deserves courting too.

Diavolo courting headcanons

(Diavolo x gn!MC) (SFW)

Diavolo has no idea how he’s supposed to court a human. He’s never courted anyone (except for Lucifer, in his own, naïve, convoluted and lovestruck way – and even then, he didn’t acknowledge it as courting). He’s been courted by a few brave witches and demons, but it didn’t go anywhere, so he doesn’t care to replicate someone else’s failed attempt at courting. Other than that, he’s only read whatever made it into his family’s history. His father didn’t speak about Diavolo’s mother – let alone their courtship. In short, this poor man is lost and scrambling the entire time.

He turns to Barbatos, Lucifer, and Solomon for advice. None of them are keen to help him seduce MC if they already like MC, but Solomon is the only one to actively sabotage Diavolo’s plans on occasion. Solomon has suggested that Diavolo pick one day a week to actively avoid you so you’ll want him more or that he fill your entire room up with balloons in your least favorite color so you can enjoy destroying them or that humans enjoy being watched while they sleep and doing so shows that you will protect them when they’re most vulnerable. Barbatos catches on to his weird plots and attempts to stop him if he’s at risk of troubling you. Barbatos just counts this as another reason to be a bitch to Solomon the next time he sees him.

Eventually, Diavolo decides that the best course of action is to do whatever he can to see that precious smile on your face and just be around you. He may not know what he’s doing, but he knows that nothing in any realm could feel better than when he catches your gaze in his and you smile at him affectionately.

As such, he asks you to accompany him in his study while he does paperwork late into the night. No one else has the privilege of bothering him while he works. Literally. Barbatos doesn’t allow anyone to interrupt Diavolo when he has important work to do. Diavolo sneaks you in when he asks you to keep him company. It’s actually a great environment for reading and studying. He feels more productive having you around (most of the time). Sometimes he’s distracted by his desire for you, and he takes a short break “to refocus.” If his paperwork isn’t confidential and you’re lonely, he’ll let you sit in his lap.

Some nights, Diavolo has so much work that you fall asleep to quiet music, scribbling, and pages turning. When Barbatos comes to deliver tea, only to find you asleep on the couch, he sighs and escorts or just straight up carries you to a spare room to rest. He’ll scold Diavolo in the morning, but he doesn’t put any extra effort to prevent Diavolo from sneaking you in – not after he saw how affectionately and longingly Diavolo stared at you when Barbatos sent you off to bed. Barbatos hates that he has such a soft spot for you both sometimes.

Diavolo doesn’t tell anyone, but once he establishes peace between all three realms, he wants to build an entire city in your honor. It’s one of the dreams that sustains him when he feels like a failure. He has to do this for you.

He wants his love for you written in history books. This man is down so bad, that he needs you to be remembered in the history of the Devildom. If your name died with you, he would tear the Devildom to pieces until every denizen memorized your name. You’re such a comfort in his daunting, stressful life, he needs your beauty to stain the world. This is the only way he can cope with the thought of you dying one day.

Diavolo will open entire public parks and gardens dedicated to you. If you’re shy or don’t want recognition, he does it secretly and only tells you that he opened it in your honor. Unfortunately, he always invites you to the opening ceremony, and anyone who sees the way he looks at you will know that this is all for you. He plants your favorite devildom plants or flowers that blossom in your favorite color. Usually, he includes some kind of water feature (pond, lake, elaborate fountains) or interesting sculpture. Sometimes they’re so romantic that he gets a bit jealous that other couples get to spend more time there with each other than he can with you.

With Solomon’s help, Diavolo imports your favorite human world flower and plants it somewhere hidden in the garden at the Demon Lord’s castle. He will not allow Barbatos to tend to the flowers and takes pride in the fact that he’s the only one keeping that gift to you alive. One time, he suddenly got too sick to leave his bed and couldn’t water the flowers, so he allowed Barbatos to water them. However, he sulked for a week afterwards, and Barbatos couldn’t raise his spirits no matter what he did. It was so troublesome that Barbatos decided the next time Diavolo was too sick to tend to the flowers, he would rather carry Diavolo there or transport him in a wheelchair and help Diavolo water the plants than do it himself.

The prince offers MC a lot of gifts – an excessive amount of gifts. He gives you clothes he thinks would look good on you, cute things (like charms, plushies, cups, etc.), delicious and often expensive food and drinks, and anything you seem to take interest in. This man would give you an entire armory if you wanted it. It gets to the point that it’s overwhelming (and would be uncomfortable for most humans. If you love gifts, you start running out of space to put things). Barbatos has to point out that he makes you uncomfortable if you won’t. (Or if you don’t get uncomfortable, Barbatos notes how cramped/cluttered your room is after delivering one of many gifts and informs Diavolo that he must cut back.) “My Lord, you ought to show some restraint. Certainly, MC will still adore you with a few less presents.”

Diavolo offers you his arm whenever you are walking in the same direction as him at RAD. He loves being your escort. Who else gets to say that the future king walked them to class? You have to understand that you’re special, right? He’ll offer to escort you if he has the time when he sees you around town, too. Diavolo will only stop offering if you ask him to. However, if you ask him to stop because others are being cruel to you due to his special attention, he will give you an option: he can be more secretive about his affection or he can deal with anyone who is cruel to you “in an appropriate manner.” Do not ask him to elaborate.

Speaking of being your escort. Diavolo loves to invite you to fancy parties. It’s a good way to make his intentions clear to you and any of your potential suitors (Suck it, Lucifer). Incidentally, it also sends a message to his own potential suitors (Suck it again, Lucifer). Besides, he wishes to keep you by his side in the future, so he’d like you to get more accustomed to royal affairs. But, mostly, he just likes showing off his beloved.

Diavolo is always the first person to ask for your hand at a dance – even if he didn’t invite you to the party. He’s very formal about it - he even bows to you and kisses your hand. Mephistopheles gives you shit about making Diavolo, of all demons, bow to a human. He’s a bit jealous, and he can’t stand the idea of Diavolo lowering himself or potentially harming his reputation by looking like such a lovestruck fool. (One time, Diavolo overheard this and informed Mephisto, “Ah, but I am a lovestruck fool for MC. Why should I not appear exactly as I am? Is there something unbecoming about me, Mephistopheles?” Mephisto let that shit go real quick.)

If Diavolo sees that you are stressed, upset, having a panic attack, etc, he’ll transform into his demon form and wrap his large wings around you as he holds you until you feel better. He knows he can’t protect you from everything all the time, but in that moment, he wants you to know that he will shield you from the entire world until you feel safe. If you get claustrophobic or this makes you more uncomfortable, it will break his heart a little bit, but he’ll work with you to figure out a better solution. He’ll do anything to make you feel safe and comfortable.

Diavolo spends time planning vacations with you instead of doing work around the holidays – which results in a rather annoyed Barbatos. Consequently, Barbatos forbids you from visiting the castle until Diavolo finishes his work. Diavolo ends up exhausted all week between catching up on his work and trying to plan the perfect vacation, which only frustrates Barbatos further. Eventually, he gets his work done. Barbs can’t even get mad at you because he knows you didn’t ask Diavolo to be so reckless with his time, but if you could find a way to get Diavolo to manage his time better or delegate vacation plans, Barbatos would be grateful beyond words.

MC does not need to do anything official to “court” Diavolo on their end, but any time you get him a gift, it means more than he can express – so long as you actually give it some thought. If it’s a couple’s/matching item, he will be over the moon – gushing over it around anyone who will listen. Every once in a while, Barbatos will consider asking you to avoid giving Diavolo matching presents because if he has to hear about a little acrylic charm for two weeks again, he’s going to use a glamour to make little D. no. 2 look like him and stand in his place.

You can melt Diavolo into a blushing mess if you offer him your hand or arm and escort him anywhere – but especially if you do it when getting out of a car or on the way to a party. If you ask him to dance, even if it’s somewhere secluded, he will feel adored. Whether it’s in front of the entire student body at a RAD party or a random balcony in the Demon Lord’s castle under the moonlight or in his study because a particular song started to play while he was working, he’ll be delighted and take your hand with a chuckle.

The best thing you could do to court Diavolo would be to take his hand and ask to visit either the mausoleum or wherever his father is being kept so that you can declare your affection for Diavolo in front of his ancestors/family. If you compliment him and bring an offering of flowers for his family, he might actually cry. He will never feel more desired than at that moment. If you ask for permission to be with him (although he would be equally happy if you just inform his family that you love him and plan to stay by his side), even if his father rose from his rest or his ancestors rose from the dead to deny you, he would go against them.

#anon #ask #requests #diavolo #gn!mc #obey me headcanons #obey me #obey me diavolo #diavolo x mc #diavolo x reader

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ant1quarian · 4 months

Note

what are your avian boys’ favorite places to be kissed?? i love them so much omfg

Axes’ favourite place to be kissed is probably on his forehead. Every single time you give him a forehead kiss he gets that awed expression and it never fails to coax a content purr from him. It’s likely because the big ol’ crater in his head is scary and you kissing his forehead reminds him that you’re not scared of him.

Dusts’ favourite place to be kissed is definitely on his hands. He’ll blush if you kiss him in the other places, but if you kiss his hands he’ll practically just melt into a fluffy puddle. Usually, his wings will fluff up and he’ll have to choke down a purr. Hand kisses usually get you a smooch in return.

Red loves smooches on his scapula feathers (shoulder feathers). He takes a lot of pride in his wings, and they are very pretty, but they’re also probably the strongest part of him. He sustained a pretty bad injury to them from a while back, so specific parts of his wings are pretty sensitive to intent. Kisses to his scapula feathers are probably like the only way to make him super flustered easily.

Killer is heavily flustered by any kisses to his wings. It’s super intimate to him and will leave him with fluffed feathers– and leave you in his grip for an undetermined amount of time. Giving him wing kisses are a sacrifice– your freedom, for a flustered Killer.

Cross is flustered by literally any kiss. He simply becomes super flustered, but particularly enjoys smooches to the bottom of his jaw. It’ll earn you a quiet purr of happiness and a blush. He will also return the favour.

Milord will simply die if you kiss the scars over his socket. It flusters the ever-flying-SOUL out of him. He’ll definitely find a way to repay you for your kindness, and it’s common for him to be quite clingy for a couple hours afterwards.

Blue likes to be smooched on his cheek. It earns you a quiet “mweh-heh!”, a blush, and a smooch in return. It takes quite a lot of affection-showering before he completely melts with super fluffy wings and an expression of adoration.

Sans practically flat lines if you give him a proper kiss on his teeth. It’ll take a solid minute before he’ll react– scooping you up and snuggling into you, usually playfully peppering your face with kisses, purring all the while. Bonus points if you kiss him under the stars.

#They are all so very adorable #Asks #Sans x reader #Dust sans x reader #Horror sans x reader #Milord x Reader #Swapfell Sans x Reader #Underswap Sans x Reader #Blue x Reader #Cross Sans x Reader #Killer Sans x Reader #Underfell Sans x Reader #Avian Sanses x Reader #Avian Sans #Fluff #so much fluff

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jinwoosungs · 2 months

Text

{ 134 }

drugstore perfume.

peter parker x fem.reader

notes: post no way home.

{ gone, today | i might just see you around | it hurts but i understand | if you can't find another reason not to stay }

there was a cute guy that often stopped by your diner, exuding a type of loneliness that kept you achingly captivated.

he orders simple meals, often opting for a lighter meal consisting of a simple sandwich with a bowl of whatever the soup of the day was. with your workplace being a diner that remained opened for 24 hours, for once, you were happy that your usual shift was the graveyard shift.

without fail, he would come in around 2 to 3am, wearing a hoodie with unexplained cuts and bruises dotting his skin. and despite the minor injuries that were kept sustained against his face, it didn't do much to mar his soft and gorgeous features.

each time you would serve him, he would give you that same, sad smile. his kind eyes always appeared grateful before digging into his meal, yet it was clear that he was keeping many parts of himself hidden from you.

you had a sense that... that there was so much more to him than meets the eye.

why was it that every time he would enter the diner, he was covered in fading bruises?

why was he always alone, never once coming into the diner with a friend or family member?

and why did you have this inexplicable urge to comfort him each time he would gaze out the diner's window, his unblinking gaze staring at the cityscape with some unknown emotion you could never quite place.

you wanted to get closer to him-

to find out all the mysteries he had to offer.

and you were finally going to do something about it.

it was like you had become so accustomed to his presence, with you getting ready for work each night whilst sporting a gentle smile on your face. once your uniform was on, you step out of your apartment and began your trek towards the diner, your strides having a bit of the bounce to them.

your walk to work was uneventful (as per usual), with you clocking right at 10pm, ready to relieve your coworker of her shift as you take her place, taking on orders for the new patrons that surrounded the diner.

you kept busy, doing your best to not look at the clock as the hours ticked by, your heart practically pounding as it neared 2am. as if responding to the late hours, the amount of customers you served began to dwindle down, leaving you alone with the cook as the diner was now empty.

with a hum, you begin wiping down the tables, eyes trailing over to the clock once more, seeing that the time read 2:05 when you hear the sounds of a door opening.

you look back to see him, flashing you a sheepish smile as his brown eyes met with your welcoming gaze. he spends a few seconds admiring you, shaking his head while fighting back a blush. a cough was heard coming from him before he looks away from you.

walking with a comfortable pace, you allow yourself to stand next to him, brushing back your hair while taking out your pad and pen.

"hey peter, your bruise looks a lot better today."

you greet him by stating his first name, shivering a bit when he lets out a hum in response. those gentle vibrations heard coming from him was enough to make your knees a little weak for him.

"uh, thanks... i told you before that i can heal pretty well."

you nod and meet his gaze, your smile kind and genuine. "what can i get for you?"

"what's the soup of the day?"

"tomato bisque."

"then i'll take a grilled cheese, with some coffee, please."

"got it, peter."

you felt yourself smiling when you turn away from peter, already replaying the interaction you just had with him within your mind. he was just so sweet, and you felt your desires to get to know him growing in response.

you linger against the cooking area, waiting by the window for the cook to finish making peter's order. paul looks at you while toasting up the bread on his grill.

"what's this about? you hardly linger close to me when i'm trying to work." paul lets out a grunt before placing the cheese on top of the slices, combining them together into the perfect grilled cheese.

"i know i know, but... this guy's special to me." you admit to the cook with a whisper, a familiar heat felt against your cheeks. "so i was wondering... could you make me a sandwich, too? just so i can talk to him a bit?"

paul lets out another grunt, "don't see why not. we ain't busy or anythin' so sure. get your boy, then."

you can feel the heat spreading across your cheeks as you waited for paul to finish. within the next 10 minutes, he places both of your orders on a tray while giving you a wink. you smile brightly at him, taking the food while making your way towards peter's table.

peter looks away from his phone, setting it off to the side as you caught a glimpse of the news article he was reading.

SPIDER-MAN STRIKES AGAIN! STOPPING AN ARMED ROBBERY AT THE FIRST AMERICA BANK!!

"here's your order pete. and oh? i didn't peg you to be a fan of spider-man."

your voice was casual as you sit across from him with your own grilled cheese and tomato bisque soup. peter's blushing face and sudden gape made it clear that your question made him feel flustered when he quickly reaches out to shut off his phone, hiding the news article from you.

"ah, y-yeah, i was just curious about him, t-that's all." his voice appeared crack, but he was all too eager to change the subject when he sees you sitting across from him with the same meal.

"oh, you're eating too?"

"yes...uhm, i just wanted to keep you company, i guess?" you admit to him with a shy smile, trying to hide your shyness when biting into your own grilled cheese sandwich.

peter's eyes were seen furrowed for a brief second before his expression changes into a sweet smile. "thanks, i think i could use your company, actually."

that was all that needed to be said when peter begins to enjoy his own meal, biting into his grilled cheese dipped into the tomato bisque. he sneaks glances at you, and you could tell that he wanted to say so much more than what he was actually letting on.

you strengthen your resolve and decide to guide the conversation first. "this may not be any of my business but... i notice that you've been coming here for a while."

"mhmm." peter looks back up at you, and you notice how his rich, brown hair falls across his forehead, making your hands itch with the urge to gently brush it back.

however, you were able to fight back such urges, keeping your hands tightly balled up against your lap in response. "s-so, what i was wondering is... why are you always alone?"

you allow your question to linger within the air, sensing that it was an uncomfortable question for peter to try and answer. his hand seemed to grip tightly at the spoon, and you watch when he seemed to bend the metal in response.

your eyes go wide when peter suddenly stands from his seat, running a hand through his hair as he grabs his phone reached into his pockets to get out his wallet.

"sorry, i have to go."

he grabs a few bills from his wallet before tossing them on the table, filling you with a guilt when you look back at his half-eaten meal. "wait, peter, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to-"

"keep the change."

that was all he said before he quickly leaves the diner, making your heart turn cold as ice was felt coursing through your veins. upon hearing the commotion, paul walks out of the kitchen right as peter left. confusion was seen in the man's gaze when he looks down at the table, seeing the completely bent spoon while letting out a whistle.

"damn, did he do that?"

yet you couldn't bring yourself to answer him, simply taking both of your half-eaten meals, being filled with a guilt for potentially overstepping your boundaries with peter.

just who are you? those were the thoughts that lingered within your heart and mind, filling you with an even deeper yearning to get a better understanding of the mysterious young man who seemed to have built a wall around his very heart...

{ ... }

your shift didn't end for another hour, yet paul could sense how distracted you had become and let you off early. he tells you that the waitstaff for the morning shift was on their way and that you could go home to cool off.

"i'll let 'em know you weren't feeling too well, so you just focus on getting some rest."

you give him a grateful smile, clocking out while grabbing your belongings together. "you're the best, paul."

he lets out a rich chuckle while stating your name, "you're damn right i am. be careful going home now, okay?"

with one last nod, you give him a wave and got out of the diner, taking in the cool, early morning air as the sky steadily began to lighten in response to the incoming sun.

"hey."

a soft voice stops you from stepping forward, and you look behind you to see peter himself waiting off to the side. he wore an apologetic expression on his face, adjusting his hoodie while coming closer to you.

"mind if i walked you home?"

you shake your head eagerly at peter, "n-no, i don't mind at all."

he smiles at you, taking a stance right next to you as he kept up with your casual pace. you look back at him and smile.

"were you... waiting for me?"

"yes." peter admits with a sigh, running a hand across his hair once more, making them appear much messier than before. "i felt like an ass for how i treated you back there."

"n-no! don't be, i...i may have gone too far with such a question. a-and, i'm sorry."

"i'm sorry, too."

admittedly, your heart felt so much lighter with your respective apologies stated clearly, no longer feeling the guilt when you continue walking back to your apartment with peter by your side.

you spent several seconds in silence when his voice was heard cutting through your thoughts. "i've lost so many people, that's why you always see me alone."

your heart clenches when you could detect the unbidden sadness in his voice. "you have, peter?"

he doesn't meet your gaze, keeping his eyes against the skyline when he nods at you. the more you looked at him, the more you could see his soft brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears from beneath the sunlight.

"yeah, i have..."

you stop walking, not liking the fact that peter was suffering so much. his loneliness truly didn't seem intentional at all. wishing to change the subject for him, you sigh and lighten up your tone.

"you know, i've been curious about the bruises i see on your face sometimes..."

peter stiffens in response to your observation, but you quickly hold up your hands in response.

"i-i mean, i don't think much of it, i just thought you were into boxing, or were an mma fighter or something."

your words succeed in making peter burst out in a laugh. "what? are you serious? an mma fighter?"

"ah, you're laughing at me?!"

you join in with him, actually feeling so relieved that he had relaxed, even just a tiny bit, while talking to you. he continues to laugh, and you allow yourself to bask within the sounds of his joy.

"sorry, that's kind of flattering, but i may not be bulky enough to be an mma fighter..." peter purposely trails off, continuing to walk with you when you see a wistful smile painting at his features.

"but that isn't to say that i can't fight."

you freeze and stop walking once more, your eyes looking up at him with intrigue. peter also stops walking again, appearing like it was taking him a herculean effort to not laugh at his very moment.

"care to elaborate, pete?"

he lets out a sigh of your name before shrugging. "nah, i don't think i will. i like keeping you on your toes."

that was all he says before walking ahead of you, making you gasp as you ran towards him, telling him how mean he was being to you while he laughs, seeming to enjoy this banter with you as he continued to walk you home.

{ ... }

your mind was constantly filled with thoughts of peter, and you couldn't seem to sit still whenever your daydreams with him would take over.

after walking with you to your apartment, you traded numbers with him and end up texting him on a near daily basis. he was charming, funny, and had to be the most attractive guy you had ever met. your happiness was so infectious that your co-workers take note of the change in your attitude, seemingly happy that things were going well for you and peter.

today was your weekend off, and you decided to spend it out in the city. you texted peter once more early in the morning, but had yet to receive a reply back from him. not thinking much of peter's sudden inactivity, you went on with your day.

you thought about your plans, and wondered if you wanted to head to a café, or your local bookstore to treat yourself to something nice. and maybe, if peter ever replied back to you, you could invite him to join you with whatever activity you wished to do.

that was all that filled your mind when you waited at the stoplight for your turn to cross the street. you stopped checking the messages on your phone and placed it back within the safety of your bag. when you saw that it was safe for you to walk did you finally cross the road-

however, the screeching sounds of tires quickly approaching you makes you freeze in response.

as if time had gone into slow motion, your eyes take in the quickly approaching car, seeing a couple arguing in the front. the driver was not paying much attention to the road, still screaming at his girlfriend as your eyes take in the close proximity of the car.

within the next seconds, the woman sees you and screams, "WATCH OUT!"

yet before the car could make its grave impact into you, you felt your body being flung away as a pair of powerful arms rescues you from the speeding car.

you were hit with an intense vertigo, filling you with a dizziness as your eyes take in the passing scenery of the city. you were so close to puking-

yet within the next second, you found yourself safely planted against a rooftop.

your steps were unsteady as the same pair of powerful arms that saved you continues to wrap around you.

"hey, hey, look at me, are you okay? you're not hurt anywhere, are you?"

your blurry eyes finally look forward, seeing the familiar mask of a vigilante, taking in the spider motif seen against his skin tight suit. you could tell that he was staring at you with concern, even with the way his mask covered the entirety of his features.

the adrenaline slowly simmers down, bringing you down to your knees as you kept on trembling within spider-man's arms.

"oh my god, i was about to- i-i nearly-"

before you could even process how you were so close to dying, you felt spider-man wrap his arms around you, bringing you closer to him as you felt a pair of soft, chapped lips pressing desperately against your own.

the way his lips perfectly slot against yours was enough to make your anxieties go away. you feel the way his hands delve into your hair, pressing one last deep kiss against your lips before pulling away from you.

"ssh, don't even think about it anymore. you're here, safe and sound in my arms. just breathe... just breathe..."

spider-man continues to distract you, holding you in his arms as he walked closer to the edge of the building. his grip on you was tight when he brushes back your hair, pulling down his mask once more while giving you a chance to calm down.

when your breathing goes back to normal, becoming even while losing its hyperventilated quality did he softly ask you, "do you want me to take you home?"

you were still recovering from the shock of his kiss and your near death experience, only managing to give him a nod in response. and despite how you couldn't see his smile, you could hear it in his voice.

"you just hang on to me as tightly as you can, okay? i won't ever drop you, and all you need to do is just trust me."

you give the masked vigilante a nod. "yes, i trust you, spidey."

wrapping your arms around him, you hid your face within his neck as he used his webs to travel quickly through the city. his webs lands with an accurate precision against the buildings, yet still remained durable enough to hold his and your weight. shutting your eyes, you bask at the sensation, feeling as though you were flying from within spider-man's arms.

in just a few minutes, he lands at the front of your fire escape, unlocking your window with his skilled hands as he climbs into your apartment with you.

your eyes go wide when a sudden wave of clarity hits you, feeling spider-man go into your room when he sits on top of your bed with you, this time, his body was trembling.

"spidey-"

he ends up holding you tight, wrapping his arms around your back while hiding his face within the curve of your neck.

"i-i thought i lost you... f-fuck, i thought you were going to be gone from my life, too."

your heart begins to pound, recognizing that broken quality of his voice when you place you hand behind spider-man's head. the hero allows you to pull his face away from you, not even stopping you when you completely lift up his mask-

revealing peter to you.

you caught a glimpse of his bloodshot eyes for a brief moment when he suddenly kisses you again, allowing you to taste the saltiness of his tears as he crushes your frame closer to his body. sobs were felt raking down his form when you gently kiss him back, all while whispering gentle words of comfort to him.

you allow him to cling to you, letting his tears fall freely when you lay back against your bed with him. as he continues to cry against your neck, allowing those warm droplets to cascade down your skin, your heart became softer for him. making sure that you were holding him tightly against you, you begin to draw invisible circles around his back, waiting for peter to catch his breath.

after several minutes, you felt him pressing a kiss against your cheek, catching your attention when he frames at your face.

"sorry, for giving me a minute to... to let it all out."

he rests his forehead against yours, and you were filled with a soft affection for him, running your fingers through his hair in response.

"did you want to talk about it."

"eventually, i will." peter manages to tell you in a breathless whisper. "eventually, but not now."

you hum in agreement, falling back against your bed while still gently running your hands against his soft hair. "take all the time that you need, peter. i'll be here... i'll always be here for you."

peter lets out a sharp inhale, now strengthening his hold on you when he slowly admits to you.

"you're the reason why i came to the diner so much."

your heart nearly bursts in response to his words, making you meet his gaze once more, seeing the love he had for you shining in them.

"really?"

"yeah...really." peter smiles while brushing the back of his hand against your cheek. "when i first came to the diner, i wasn't expecting to see such a cute waitress; one that stole my heart at first glance."

he sighs and leans forward to kiss your cheek, the action feeling quite soft and sweet to you. "at first, i just wanted to protect you; to make sure that you were safe while working. but... the more i observed you, the harder i fell for you."

peter meets your gaze once more and shakes his head, "that night, when you asked me why i was so alone all the time, i wanted to come clean to you right then and there, b-but, i had to stop myself. i knew that when i finally told you, then it would need to be the full story, with me not hiding a single thing from you-"

you cut off his words with another kiss, basking in his tiny moans of your name before pulling away from him.

"you don't have to worry about telling me, peter. i won't ever leave your side, so... you have all the time in the world."

you go back to wrapping your arms around his back, letting him rest his head against your shoulder when you reassure him once more, "i won't ever leave you, and i'll be happy to listen to your story when your ready."

basking in the way his body loosens up, you allow peter to wrap his arms tightly around you, speaking with a bit of a tremor in his voice when he asks you, "do you promise?"

"i promise." with your oath lingering in the air, you press your lips against his forehead, ready to stay by his side as you smiled to yourself, feeling happy that you managed to break down his walls- slowly becoming the absolute love of his life.

{ and as these days go by | they can't change how long we've waited for | a love that's more ... a love that's more. }

a.n. - lmao, i am so sorry it took me a whole month to get a new peter parker story out. when i realized i had gained a few new readers with joy, i knew that i couldn't stop writing for peter with just that story alone. this is unedited, but it has become one of my favorite stories that i have written in a long time. 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #marvel x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #.stories

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kitasgloves · 3 months

Text

"You are in love"

event masterlist

— ♬ "And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars. And why I've spent my whole life tryin' to put it into words"

— ♬ Kuroo x Reader, timeskip, SFW, fluff, gen reader, high school friends to lovers, no beta

One look, dark room, meant just for you. Time moved too fast, you played it back. You see buttons on a coat and remember a lighthearted joke, back then it had no proof and it was not much but you saw enough. When you were younger, you had trouble making friends. You used to believe that there was something wrong with you and that nobody was willing to stay and play, for a long time you coped with that. Being alone. Until high school went up and changed everything.

You didn't originally want to go to Nekoma High, you were aiming for Fukurodani Academy or even Itachiyama Institute. But you ended up going to Nekoma which you admit you hated at first. You had the potential to be in more prestigious schools in Tokyo but at least you ended up in one of the higher class sections during your first year. In terms of academics, there was no hassle. You went through every homework, classwork, presentation, and even group activity like a breeze. However, in terms of social life, you offer nothing but silence.

You couldn't connect with anyone in your class, they were kind people but there was no one who you see willing to open up to you and vice versa. It felt like your childhood and middle school all over again, you always ended up alone. But you were fortunately wrong. It was a fateful day during lunch and you were eating alone when you spotted a shadow over your head. And you saw him, feline-like eyes and bedhead hair. He offers you an eager smile.

"Mind if I sit here with you?"

He asks and you nod. He sits across from you and pulls out his lunch. He looked taller and older than you. The way he behaved around you told you how he was comfortable with approaching strangers, and you stopped eating.

"You're Kenma's seatmate, right?"

"Oh, you mean Kozume-san?"

"Yep! He didn't go to school today, he got sick"

"You know him?"

"We're childhood best friends, we sorta tell each other everything. I'm Kuroo Tetsuro, by the way"

"[Name], [Name] [Surname]"

Kuroo seems so eager to get to know you. Your first lunch shared with Kuroo left you perplexed, you're convinced it was only a one-time occurrence. But it repeated, again, and again. For months until the entirety of your first year. You and Kuroo became friends, something you never anticipated. You two became so close that it felt natural. By the time you reached your second year, you and Kuroo were inseparable.

He convinced you to join the boys' volleyball club as manager. Kenma became the witness to all your shenanigans with his childhood best friend. Because of Kuroo, you changed. You've learned to open up to people, you've become the person you are today thanks to him. Your friendship with Kuroo got you through the hardships in high school up until graduation. The two of you remained close after he left for college and the beginning of your third year. You and Kuroo consistently kept in touch until it was your turn to leave Nekoma for college.

You haven't heard from each other ever since and you've made a new life while in college. You gained new experiences, new friends, and new challenges to overcome. Even if you and Kuroo drifted apart, there wasn't a day that you don't wonder where he is right now. By your last year in college, you began to miss him. To miss the memories you had with him in high school. Watching movies, playing video games with Kenma, volleyball practice, and having sleepovers. You had a major case of nostalgia when you went through your photos back at high school, there were polaroids of you and him on his graduation that never fail to make you tear up.

College ended as your career started. You found a good job that paid enough to sustain yourself, that's when you began trying to reconnect with Kuroo. You also found out that Kenma became a YouTuber, rising in popularity. All it took was a quick DM to his Instagram account and you got Kuroo's contact number. Apparently, he works at the Japan Volleyball Association within the Sports Promotion division. Something you knew he would definitely pursue.

It was close to midnight when you contemplated calling up his number, a million scenarios flooded your head. He could be already asleep, he probably doesn't know your number, or maybe he has already forgotten you. Your chest goes tight at the last thought. But you suck in a deep breath and dialed Kuroo's number. You held your phone against your ear and stared down at your Polaroid picture with him in your hand.

"Hello?"

You hear his voice in the line and your throat goes dry. It felt like your heart stopped beating but began racing after realizing the weight of the situation. You let out a shaky breath.

"Hi, Tetsu"

"...[Name]? Holy shit [Name] is that you?!"

He sounds so excited and it causes tears to well up in your vision. You let out a relieved chuckle knowing Kuroo hasn't forgotten about you. Immediately, you and him began talking and catching up on each other's lives. There was a brief exchange of apologies for letting the years go by without keeping in touch, but there were no grudges held and all was forgiven.

"Where is your place? I'll pick you up, let's get coffee"

"Sure"

It began snowing outside as you wrapped yourself in your warmest clothes. You waited in front of your apartment complex and saw a car pull up minutes later. The windows roll down and your heart leaps out of your chest. It was Kuroo Tetsuro, your high school best friend. He was grinning at you like he always did back then. He kept his signature bedhead hair and the only difference was he seemed to look more charming than he was during high school. You smile as he opens the door for you.

You sat in the passenger seat in quietness while smiling at each other, it truly felt like nothing had changed. Small talk and he drives. You two grab coffee at midnight. You and Kuroo stood against each other under the snow, sipping on coffee and laughing. The lampost light reflects the chain on your neck, Kuroo's eyebrows raised.

"Look up"

He says, and your shoulders brushed. It was no mistaking it. You were still wearing the necklace he gave you on your eighteenth birthday. You couldn't tell if the cold made his ears red or something else. No proof, one touch. But seeing Kuroo slide closer to you made you feel enough.

Something has changed, you couldn't point out what it was but something wasn't the same with you and Kuroo. The two of you spent a whole month making up for lost time. If it was possible, it seemed like the two of you became even closer. Perhaps closer than him and Kenma but felt way more different. You began noticing the shift in your and Kuroo's relationship one morning when you woke up at his place after spending the night before drinking. You smell burnt toast in the kitchen and it was a Sunday. You keep his shirt, and he keeps his word. And for once, you let go, of your fears and your ghosts. One step, not much. But it said enough.

You feel the change transform you and Kuroo uncontrollably. This felt nothing like high school anymore. Kuroo was getting closer and closer each time and you always let him. You've never felt so comfortable with anyone in your life. This is proved when Kuroo and you began kissing on sidewalks. You knew you'd never find someone like Kuroo in your life, so whenever you two would fight, you two would always talk.

However, everything comes into full circle one night when Kuroo wakes. He spent the night at your apartment and slept beside you. You stirred awake and you see the strange look on his face. He looks at you deep into your eyes, you gaze back with bated breath. He pauses.

"[Name], you're my best friend"

He says. And you knew what it was, he was in love. He's in love with you. So you instantly leaned against him and shared a long gentle kiss. For a long time, you felt like you two were dancing in a snow globe 'round and 'round. And now he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown. And understand why you spent your whole life trying to put it in two words. But you can hear it in the silence. You can feel it on the way home. You can see it with the lights out. You didn't see it back then but now it becomes crystal clear; you're in love, true love. You're in love with Kuroo Tetsuro.

"I think I fell in love with you the moment you gave me this necklace for my eighteenth birthday"

"Oh, really? Well, I think I fell in love with you when I sat with you for lunch back at high school for the first time"

"You're lying"

"No! Ask Kenma! I just didn't know it back then. But now, when you called me up after what felt like ages, I knew I didn't want to be in love with somebody else"

"Ew, cheeseball"

"Look at you, being so in love with me"

"As if you aren't more terribly in love with me, Tetsu"

"I wouldn't want it any other way, darling"

#— ♬ ©kitasgloves #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #Spotify

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