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myosotisa · 9 months

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Take a Seat: Extended Edition - s.h.

ǁ summary: What exactly did you think was going to happen when you let King Steve into your bedroom? (Now with full smut!)

ǁ tags: smut. not plot just dirt. mean!dom Steve with demeaning praise, pinching, dirty talk, fingering f receiving, implied size kink (i know his dick is big), protected p in v, spanking. dubcon photo taken at the end. afab!reader, no y/n, nicknames are sweetheart, baby, good girl, dirty slut. King Steve is the King Tease. And a perv. not a happy ending but not a bad ending? about what you'd expect, really.

ǁ a/n: the girlies ask and i answer. tagged everyone who interacted with the first blurb at the bottom. the first 900 words are the same. never ask me for anything ever again /s

ǁ word count: 4k

"Hey sweetheart?"

You barely look up from where you're pouring over the textbook on your desk. "Hmm?"

There's a small shuffle from your friend Steve adjusting on your bed, most likely to face you. "Can I ask you something?"

Glancing back at him with your eyebrows drawn together, you catch a glimpse of his impish smile that he's attempted to make look sweet before you return to your book. "Sure?"

"Can I fuck you into your mattress?"

The world spins from how fast you twist toward him, hand gripping the back of your chair tightly as all the blood rushes to your head. "Excuse me?!"

A lazy smile tilts his mouth, eyes shining with mischief as he repeats with slow pauses for effect, "Can I… fuck you… into your mattress?"

Your jaw drops, mouth opening and closing like a fish as you struggle to force out words. "I heard you the first time, I was just giving you a chance to say something else."

"Come on," he leans back onto his palms, thighs spreading with his socks firmly on the floor. The traitorous part of your brain he's awakened looks at the space between his thighs, at the empty seat of his denim covered lap and thinks that's a perfect spot for me. "Like you've never thought about it?"

"I…" Eyes drying from staring at him in shock, you manually force a few blinks as you swallow hard. "This feels like a trick question."

"I bet you have," he says in a sigh, adjusting on the bed with what seems like a very intentional thrust of his hips upward. He adjusts to hold most of his weight on one hand, the other making a little walk up toward where your blanket meets your pillow. "I bet you've laid right here on these sheets… Hand tucked into your pretty little panties and whimpered my name."

The visual has your gut twisting, warmth spreading from between your thighs and outwards. Your face is burning hot as your eyes flick from his hand to his face to his lap and back again. "I don't – I don't understand what's happening right now."

Steve has never, ever shown any interest in you. While you've only been friends for a little while, he was known for his conquests around school. Everyone knew how they went. When he approached you, entirely friendly, asking for a study partner, you'd known it didn't fit his pattern. This wasn't how he came onto the other girls at school.

"What's not to get?" He asks teasingly, the tips of his thick fingers hooking on the top of your blanket just to shift it down a few inches. "It'd be fun."

And while the visual part of your brain talks directly to the throb of feeling in your clit explaining just how fun it would be, your thinking brain is still fighting tooth and nail against something you hadn't considered a possibility anymore.

"Why are you doing this, Steve?" I'm not your type, your mind tacks on. This feels like some kind of cruel joke, it warns.

"Because, baby," he's shifting again, upper body pressing forward as he rests either palm on his spread knees, "I like to play with my food before I eat it."

Brain coming to a grinding halt from its anxious frenzy, all that remains is a cycling repeat of his statement and the reactionary shiver it sent down your spine. “Your… food?”

This seems to make him huff a laugh, shaking his head. For such a smart girl, it made his dick twitch in his pants at how easy it is to throw you off balance, how quick you're going dumb for him. “Yes, sweetheart. Now are you going to let me keep playing? Or should I leave you alone with that wet spot that’s already on your panties?”

Your head ducks down in alarm, thinking you’re exposed to him in some way, only to see your pants still perfectly in place. When you look back up to retort, the cheeky grin on his face informs you that your reaction told him everything he needed to know. “You– I’m not!”

Taking a deep breath, shoulders rising and then falling lower than they were before as you try to release some of the sudden tension in your body. "How would we even...?"

The sudden shyness, your nervous hesitation, makes his cock throb again, one of his hands instinctively pressing down on the growing tent in his tight jeans. It nearly makes him groan at how heavily your eyes track the movement before quickly looking away with an almost inaudible squeak. “Don’t worry your big brain about it. Just come over here and let me show you.”

The way you stare at him for just a little too long, looking like a deer in headlights, makes him think maybe he came about this the wrong way. Maybe you’ll bolt like a scared rabbit. But then you silently push yourself to stand and take a few hesitant steps toward him, not quite entering the space between his spread thighs.

That Harrington charm comes through his encouraging smile, his voice a cooing murmur when he says, “Good girl.” Your thighs press together subconsciously and he delights in the new reaction. “Now take a seat,” he insists with a pat to the inside of one of his thighs. “I’ve got a spot right here with your name on it.”

It is with less grace than you had hoped when you bring your knees to either side of his hips, sitting down closer to his knees and lightly placing your hands on his shoulders. Keeping a small distance between your chests, a bit of safety. He tsks softly, tongue clicking behind his teeth as he shakes his head like he's disappointed.

Burning hot palms land on your waist and yank you forward without warning – pulling you flush against him, tits to chest and the continuously hardening bump in his lap pressing against you. You gasp at the sudden movement and the press of something solid between your legs, hands turning to a death grip on his shoulders. "There, that's better. Isn't that better?"

The way he asks is condescending and you hate that it just makes you drip more onto your underwear. Feeling like your tongue is caught in your mouth, you answer with a nod. His eyes narrow slightly right before he gives you a sharp pinch on your side, his other hand holding you in place when you instinctually try to jerk away from it. "Words, sweetheart. Need to hear you."

"Yes!" The answer comes out embarrassingly quickly, making your face grow even hotter and his grin grow even bigger. "Yes, that's better."

"Good," his voice drops in pitch as his hands skate down from your waist to your knees, just to start to slowly drag up your covered thighs. What I wouldn't give to be in a skirt right now. "Where was I?" Fingers press firmly into your skin, a shiver rocking you as your thighs try to twitch together, unable to in his lap.

"Oh, right," if you didn't know any better, you'd say his smile is malicious. "I was playing with my new toy."

New toy. Another shudder rolls down your spine as your clit starts to throb between your legs. You shouldn't be turned on by this, you should be telling him off, kicking him out. But it's like his eyes and words have you hypnotized – completely pliable in his big hands. Ready and wanting to do whatever he might ask of you.

And he knows it too. Is relishing in it, even. How he lets his tongue sneak out to lick at his lower lip and then you're staring at his mouth, not even aware of it. How your eyes are wide as saucers when he starts to lean in, closer and closer, until the tip of his strong nose nudges yours.

Your breath catches in your chest, holding and holding as you wait, eyes begging. He just smiles again, eyelids heavy as he nudges your nose one more time with his before veering off without warning and pressing his plush lips to your jaw. Once, twice, and down until he reaches a spot below your ear and nips with his teeth to hear you gasp again.

Just like the other girls told you. King Steve doesn't kiss on the mouth.

"So sensitive, baby." He parts his lips in a wet kiss along your jugular, sucking softly before pulling off – blowing cool air across the wet skin to make you tremble on his lap again. "Anybody ever touch you like this?"

"O–once or twice," you reply as you tip your chin up and to the left to give him more space to work with. He hums in approval and gives you a few more kisses and nips in reward.

You hadn't even realized you had started a slow roll to rub your cunt along the zipper of his jeans until his hands grip your hips to pull you down harder. A small moan tumbles out before you can stop it and he huffs a laugh against your skin.

"Now that's just precious." Blood parts in the middle – half rushing up to your face and the other half sinking down to the increasingly present throbbing below. He presses your hips down at the same time his twitch up, the hard length of him beneath denim catching on your clit deliciously, triggering another embarrassing noise. "Fuck, sweetheart. I bet I could make you cum just like this."

It is with great shame you admit to yourself that he probably could.

"But I made you a promise, didn't I?" He pulls back so he can see your dilated pupils. "What was it again?" He pretends to think while encouraging you in your drag against him, making it hard for you to answer.

"You… you asked if you could fuck me," you inhale a sharp breath at a particularly good nudge against your clit. "Into my mattress."

"That's right, good girl." A whimper sounds behind your closed lips and his face gets even more smug. "I don't remember you giving me an answer to that question, sweetheart."

"Is, uh… is me climbing into your lap not answer enough?"

Another mean pinch, to your outer thigh this time. "Don't get smart. Ask me nicely or I'll leave you wet and empty right now."

"No!" It comes out a bit panicked, not putting it past him to do just that. "Please don't go."

He hums again, a placated noise, and goes back to manipulating the flesh of your thighs while he looks at you expectantly.

"Will you…" It feels like acid on your tongue but you're growing more desperate by the minute. "Will you please fuck me?"

"Aww," he coos, smiling syrupy sweet. "That's cute, but I think you can do better than that."

Bastard.

More acid burns your throat as you swallow what remains of your pride, squeezing your eyes closed tight for a few moments as you prepare yourself. “Steve,” it comes out with a little bit of a whine, eyes opening wide and wet to look into his. “Please, will you… Will you fuck me? Want you so bad – want you to stretch me out, please.”

A sound rumbles in his chest that sounds somewhere between a groan and a growl, his hands tightening to an almost uncomfortable stretch on your thighs. “Still could be better, but I’m feeling in a giving mood.” A sharp tap to the side of your ass makes you squeak in surprise, “Up, up. On your feet.”

You do as he asks without question, climbing off his lap and back to the mercy of your nervous knees. “Strip down, then hands and knees on the bed.”

“What?!” Your arms come up to cross over your chest, already feeling exposed just by the order.

He’s pulling his shirt off, giving you an eyefull of his wide shoulders and chest as he tosses it back towards your desk. “Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart. You won’t like the consequences.”

So you rapidly strip off your clothes, leaving them in a pile on the ground below you until you’re naked as the day you were born, weight shifting from one foot to the other in an attempt to calm your nerves.

Steve’s jeans and underwear hit his ankles – long, thick cock bobbing free, heavy enough to hang down even with how hard he is. He wraps his fist around the base, only making the size of it seem more intimidating in comparison, and strokes it lazily when he catches you looking. Sounding annoyed and tipping his head toward your bed, he says, “Knees, bed, go.”

Scrambling onto the bed to his amusement, you perch yourself on your hands and knees, ass facing him with your hot, wet pussy on full display. “Now that’s a pretty picture,” his voice is low again, almost pleased as the bed dips behind you with his weight. You keep your eyes forward on your pillows, so much blood rushing to your face that it’s making you dizzy. A firm hand grips your hip at the same time a pair of fingers parts your lips – a strangled and surprised moan leaving you as you try to jerk away from the sudden stimulation, his hold on your hip keeping you against his fingers. “Surprised, baby? What, did you think I wasn’t going to touch you?”

His amused mocking has you burning with embarrassment, the fact that you can feel each cruel word directly in your clit only making you hotter. “N–no, I was hoping you w–would.”

“Hoping? Oh, you poor thing,” he coos again, thick fingers skating up and down your slit, just barely brushing your clit on each pass. “You have no idea what you’re in for, do you?”

And he pushes his middle finger inside you without warning, pressing into the knuckle as you squeak out and tense up. “Nuh-uh, gotta relax,” his hand leaves your hip to tap at your presented ass again. “Your only job right now is to sit there and take what I give you, understand?”

You nod with a whimper caught in your throat, allowing your head to hang down. Another sharp pinch on the stretch of skin between your ass and thigh, hard enough on a sensitive place to make you cry out. “I said, do you understand?”

“Yes! Yes, I u–understand. All I do is…” Something between a sigh and a moan interrupts you as he starts to drag his finger in and out of your tight heat. “Take what you give me.”

“Mmm, good girl. Gotta stretch you out. So tight – I think my cock might rip you right in half, baby.”

I wish you would, the traitorous part of your brain supplies.

Steve takes his time – paying very little attention to your needy clit as he adds a second finger and then a third. Withdrawing slightly whenever you press back for more, making sure you know that he is the one setting the pace and you do not get to change that. Three fingers knuckle deep in your tight hole is a stretch, bordering on painful, but it quickly turns to pleasure when he starts to hook his fingers down to rub against the spot inside you that has your toes curling and noises pouring out of you.

“Is this what you thought about, baby?” His voice pulls you out of it again, brain struggling to catch up and understand what he’s asking. “When you touched your pretty pussy and thought of me? Did you picture it like this?” Right now, you can’t remember, but you can’t imagine this being your fantasy, so you shake your head, thighs starting to tremble slightly.

“No, course not. Sweet thing like you probably dreamed about doing it missionary – looking into each other's eyes.” His thumb finally makes contact with your clit, your back arching and voice rising in pitch as you moan. “That what you want? Want me to make love to you?”

“N–no,” you stutter, struggling to get the words out over the way your body starts to tense, wanting to cum more than anything. “Wanted… Wanted you to fuck me, use me.”

A moan leaves him this time, shifting forward to grind his throbbing cock against your ass. “Really? You want to be my fucktoy, sweetheart? A little warm, wet fleshlight for my cock?”

The pressure in you mounts, higher and higher, almost there as you cry out, “Yes! Yes, want that, please!”

“Jesus Christ,” his fingers promptly leave you, taking you off the edge with them so abruptly it has tears coming to your eyes as you whine. You look back at him for the first time since you mounted the bed, eyebrows tipped up in pained pleasure, as you try to figure out why he stopped.

He’s propped on his knees behind you, hair ruffled like he’s been running his hands through it, eyes trained between your legs as he rolls a condom onto his painfully red cock. Feeling a burst of confidence, you lower down onto your elbows, arching your back further and presenting yourself to him more. He groans like you’re hurting him, eyes widening as he looks from your face to your swollen pussy.

“Keep doing shit like that,” he laughs out, nudging your knees further apart as he starts to run the tip of cock through your folds, “and I might have to keep you.”

Keep you, keep you, keep you, plays on a loop inside your head as he inches inside, muscles protesting against the size of him even after all the time spent stretching you out. He presses about a quarter of the way in before pausing, muttering a, “Shit,” under his breath as he paws at the curve of your ass. You try to breathe through the ache, focusing on the way he grips your flesh and not at how his cock feels like it’s tearing you up from the inside.

In a slow roll, he pulls out an inch and presses in two, being nicer and more deliberate with feeding you his length than you anticipated. You can feel your own slick dripping out each time he shifts, making a sticky mess of your inner thighs and the curly hair at the base of his cock. When he bottoms out, he pulls back a touch and pushes back in hard, another high pitched noise leaving your parted lips when he just stays there.

“You–you’re so deep, Steve, fuck…”

He laughs breathlessly, squeezing at your flesh harder. “And you’ve got a perfect pussy, baby. So tight and wet and taking me so well.” His hips grind against yours, a dirty roll that has his cock adjusting to sit even deeper. “Letting me rearrange your guts like a good girl.”

Your shame is long gone now, eyebrows tipping up in pleasure as you fist your fingers in the sheets and cry back, “Wanna be good, wanna be your good girl, Steve.”

His cock jumps inside you, making both of you groan, and he grips both of your hips hard when he starts to pull out before thrusting back in. You don’t stay surprised by his slow start for long, his pace rapidly increasing in strength and speed by the second until he's forcing your ass back against his hips with a dirty slap of skin on skin.

“This better?” He asks, breathless as he pounds into you over and over. “This what you wanted?”

“Yeah! Yes, yes,” you babble, fists twisting in the sheets as your muscles start to tense up again. “So good, so, so good.”

A sharp smack hits your ass, another cry leaving your throat as you clench down around him. “Oh fuck,” he groans, “you like that shit too?” You nod, hair mussing against the sheets as you press your ass back like you’re asking for more.

“I thought you were such a good girl, a sweet girl,” he coos. “Thought I was gonna corrupt you.” He laughs, slapping your ass hard again as your moan. “But here you are, begging to be my fleshlight and gushing around my cock when I spank you. That good girl act was to hide that you’re just a dirty little slut, huh?”

You’re lost in it, pressure mounting as you start to inch closer and closer to your previously ruined orgasm. He smacks you again, harder this time, as he orders, “Come on, can’t be that dumb on my cock yet, answer me.”

“Yes! I’m a dirty slut – just for you, just for your cock.”

He moans, louder than he has so far, and one of his hands reaches forward to your shoulders, pushing you down further into the mattress. You drop, tits and cheek pressed to the sheets as he starts to pick up his pace again. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”

You whimper, cunt clenching down as your mouth hangs open. “Fuck yes, please, want you to cum, want to cum with you, please!”

“Yeah?” He leans further over you, happy trail rubbing against your lower back as he wraps his arm around to inch toward your clit underneath. “You gonna be a good girl and milk my cock?”

His fingertips are just too far, so close but still not there, and you’re so desperate, you’re begging, “Please, pleaseplease, gonna milk your cock, want every drop, please just let me cum.”

He laughs again, voice going hoarse, as he finally makes contact with your clit. Collects some of the slick that continues to coat you both and uses it to start making sharp and dirty figure 8’s across your throbbing clit. “Come on then, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

And it’s like your body responds directly to his command – back bowing and all your muscles clenching down as the pressure in your hips releases, hot white endorphins flooding your system as you moan and thank him and tremble. He’s not far behind, the hot grip of your cunt getting even tighter and sending him over the edge as he jerkily fucks into you a few more times, ropes of cum emptying into the end of the condom and soaking the head of his cock in warmth.

You’re still panting and shaking when he pulls out with a groan, a whine leaving your throat at the sudden emptiness while your knees slide out from under you to lay flat against the bed. Limp against the sheets, sweaty and boneless, completely blissed out to the point you don’t even know or care what Steve is doing.

A sudden flash brings you back to reality, pushing up on your palms and whipping your head around to see Steve, fully dressed, and holding a polaroid camera in his hands that is now slowly printing out a picture. You feel all the blood rushing to your face again, legs pressing together stickily as you come back into how exposed you currently are. “Did you just…?”

“A little souvenir,” he promises with a smirk, pulling it out of the camera and looking over the slowly developing photograph. Where did he even get the camera? “Just for me, no one will know.”

Fucked dumb and still trying to recover, you just nod, turning over slightly and pulling your blanket with you to cover yourself slightly. You watch as he slips the polaroid into his back pocket and steps over to pluck your soiled underwear out of your discarded jeans, tucking that into his pocket too. “Thanks for a good time, sweetheart. Much better than I thought it'd be.”

Your mouth opens to ask but closes quickly. King Steve has always been a one and done guy, but he said… he might keep you. Will he actually?

Before you can decide whether you want to ask or not, he flashes you a sharp grin and says, “I’ll make sure to let you know if I’m ever in need of a fleshlight to play with.” A pointed glance up and down your barely covered form and then he winks, wiggling his fingers in a little wave and leaving you alone in your room.

Your ever traitorous brain hopes that he’ll call you again soon even though you know that he probably, really won’t.

thanks for reading! please reblog and leave a reaction if you liked it, they make my day <3

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applejuicebegood · 3 months

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All My Love - Platonic!Gaz x Teammate!Reader

Fem!Reader

Summary: Stressing over the cooking for that evening and bad memories, Y/N finds Gaz who talks them through what their feeling. A/N: Wrote this for the very sweet @midnights-song and @kaoyamamegami for their very kind words on my last fic. This one is a sorta fallow up, please enjoy! Masterlist

Cw: Descriptions of absent + alcoholic mother, mentions of PTSD-related flashbacks, elder-child syndrome Word Count: 1960

The smell of cedar smoak and garlic clung to your hands and hair. A dull ache snaked its way up the back of your knees and into your thighs. Wringing your hands with a damp tea-towel you looked over your kitchen, the results of your labour tucked away in the humming oven and boiling on the stove top. Flour and spices swirled together across every vacant surface, oil-stained pots and bowls crowded your skink, and potato skins and egg shells were crowded in a pile across from the filled compost bin you were meaning to take outside to feed to your chickens. You puffed out a long breath, resting your wrists on your hips. You had finally finished all of the cooking for tonight's supper for your teammates.

Your experience with cooking has been relegated to that of your small family. The distant memories of your aunts and grandmothers crowded in the same kitchen where you stood now, knives and peelers making quick work of the harvested meat and potatoes your farm had cultivated. It was the only thing you recalled as you struggled to discern the cramped handwriting of the recipes left behind by your family. Their jovial laughing and quick gaelic speak now distant memories carved into the cabinets and countertops. Smeared on the vintage china and cast iron skillets hung on the oak walls. If you stayed still and concentrated enough you could remember the feeling of your grandmother's rough palm on your supple cheek and her lips on your forehead. The smell of milk and wheat wafting through your senses.

You were much younger then. Your fingers easily slipping onto the knife's blade and your wrists burned from boiling pasta water. You needed to use your baby sister's step stool to stand over the cutting board properly. Your mother was too busy passed out on the couch with a bottle of whiskey slipping from her limp grasp to worry about feeding her children. You were the eldest, therefore it became your job to try and emulate the effortless dance you watched your female relatives perform every holiday season or family reunion.

Now you were quicker, easily controlling the tools in your scarred, tattooed hands. Your time in the military proved helpful in quickening your reaction speed, allowing you to cut through the squash and potatoes faster than before. You had begun the cooking process that morning, refusing the offered help from your teammates. Insisting that guests shouldn’t be expected to cook and that you could handle it. And you could, although it resulted in the ache in your thighs spreading into your lower back, causing a hushed groan to escape from your throat as you tugged at the roots of your hair.

You quickly turned at the harsh thumping of boots on the creaking wooden stairs. Drawn out of your spiralling stupor.

‘Holy.. smells fucking amazing in here lass..’ ‘Language! Johny!’ You say through clenched teeth, motioning to the living room couch where your baby sister was supposed to be sitting next to your captain. The volume of the football game on the TV turned down. Johnny winced in apology, hushing his booming voice to a whisper. ‘Sorry.. Sorry, here you go sit.. I’ll clean’

Johnny says after looking you over and taking the towel from your hands. Your team had gotten good at noticing when exhaustion or strain worked its way into each other's bodies. Your hunched shoulders and wide eyes giving away your building stress. ‘Oh Johnny no.. you don’t have too-’ ‘Yea.. yea, Go sit lassie.. After mak’in all this food I’m surprised you're still standing’ Johnny says ushering you to the living room before patting your shoulder and turning to find a starting point in the stack of dishes.

You sigh. The instinct of obeying your higher ranking sergeant hadn’t seemed to wear off yet. Walking to the couch you expected to have your little sister squeal and jump into your arms. Only to find her little body curled against your captain’s side. Her hands bunched up under her chin, the delicate skin of her eyelids shut. Price’s head rested on the back of the couch with his arms stretched out over the cushions, his mouth slightly agape. You quietly leaned down to brush your sister's forehead, as if in response she snuggled her cheek against Price’s side at your touch, not wanting to be woken up just yet. Price twitched in his sleep, pulling Emi closer against him. You kissed the side of her head, pulling the knitted blanket up over her shoulders and across your captain's lap. The warm prick of relief spread across your skin at the realization that your baby sister had grown comfortable enough to fall asleep in the circle of your captain's embrace. Hoping that she had found someone other than you to admire and emulate.

You made your way to the back porch, pulling on a leather overcoat to protect your warmth from the bite of the winter air. As you swung the glass door open, the brush of cold against your warm cheeks soothed you, your breath clouding up in front of you. You looked out onto the backyard of your farm, a few metres of blanketed gardening space trailing out to the fenced off cliff side. The clothesline pole used in the warmer months stood to the right, the cable attached to the house swinging in the swirling wind. The fence built to keep your cows and sheep and your sisters from roaming too close to the cliff edge poked out from the dull white snow. Past the drop of land, you could see the storm-grey waves churning and thrashing against each other like fighting children. Stretching further into the distance. You slowed your breathing and shut your eyes, trying to test if you could hear the water slap against the cliff side. When you were little, you would climb through the wire fencing and peer over the cliff's edge, never realizing how if you took only a few more steps death would embrace you like the waves embraced the fistfulls of grass and pebbles you would toss over the edge. Sometimes you wished you could return to that state of not even being afraid of falling from a cliff face.

‘Hey.. Y/N?’ ‘Oh! Kyle.. shit you scared me!’

The jolt of surprise at Gaz’s voice ran up your spine and over your chest. In your daze, you didn’t realize Gaz settled on the porch's couch, a book from the living room shelf open in his lap. The deck held a few mismatched outdoor chairs and a couch, crowded with old throw pillows and spear blankets. Small metal lanterns hung overhead, painted and decorated by your sisters when they were both in primary school. The dwindling candle light gently swayed over Gaz’s smooth brown skin, a warm break from the multitude of grey stretching out before you.

‘Heh sorry, here.. Sit. You look like you need a break’ Your boots scuffed against the deck floor as you settled yourself by Kyle. You tucked your legs up underneath you with a groan. The pain settling in your legs. You were still fixated on the blurred horizon line stretching beyond the haze of clouds that were beginning to roll in from the town harbour. Gaz’s presence beside you blurring like the apparent ending of the surrounding oceans. ‘Hey.. you alright?’ Gaz asked with the snap of his book shutting. ‘Yeah.. yeah of course.. Just, just thinking about.. Ya know, I mean… I-I just want things to be good for you guys’ You say, looking up at him. Folding your arms over your chest. ‘What.. What do you mean? Y/N.. things have been perfect, I honestly don’t know what else you could do to make this trip more enjoyable’ ‘I know.. I mean- I think, I don’t know Gaz.. I just worry that.. that this isn’t.. Ugh! I don’t even know what i’m saying’ You chuckle, gripping your head as you run a hand through your hair. Glancing at Gaz you notice him scratching the jagged scar on his forearm.

It was during a mission in your last deployment that an enemy soldier split his skin open with a combat knife. Your stitches were frantic and clumsy, being that you were in the back of a moving helicopter for the evac and you had to watch the consciousness drain out of your friend's face. You noticed how as the cut started to heal Gaz would scratch at the scar absently, something that annoyed you being that it would remind you that the split wouldn't be so gnarled had you been able to keep your shaking hands steady. ‘You really have no clue how to stop worrying..’

His tone was sad, grey like the ocean waters.

‘Worrying ‘bout you lot is my job.. It’s not something I can just.. Turn off’ You were frustrated, picking at the loose threads of the embroidered pattern lacing around your skirt. ‘I get that. I had that during my first break home, not being able to remember how to.. Ya know.. Be normal. To be a person and not a soldier. God, it would drive Ma mad, how I could only get up at five in the morning and.. Ya know.. The flashbacks’ You watched him as he talked, his rich brown eyes cast down at his hands. ‘There really isn’t a proper way to “be normal”, not after what you've been through, what you’ve seen. But that's not something you have to figure out on your own.. I mean hell, most of us would be dead if you weren't on this team Y/N’ ‘Ha.. I know’ ‘Exactly, what I mean is.. You've got people around you who would do anything for you. And we are probably the only ones who know what it’s like to be stuck in trying to remember who you were before deployment. It’s something we’ve all experienced, so don’t you believe for a second you should go through it by yourself.’ Gaz leaned forward, placing his hand on your knee. You instinctively took his fingers into your own, his hands cold. You forced yourself to meet his eyes, gently nodding your head. Your smile tight, trying to hold back the growing dampness in the corners of your eyes. You squeezed his hand, running your thumb over his knuckle. He squeezed your fingers back, a silent language you shared when words were too daunting to put together. You always found it shocking how this kind of comfort felt like it was being directed at someone else. Like it was a puzzle piece ripped in half, it could still fit in the piece but it appeared foreign. You weren't used to it, and how easily it appeared to flow from Gaz. In his words and in his viable willingness to help you. The unusual sensation of being understood made it hard to express your gratitude for it, Gaz knew this. Which is why you both sat there, in a shared understanding only the both of you as colleagues and friends could have. ‘You smell great by the way’

His blunt comment caused a ripple of laughter to fall from your lips, a tear drifting down the bridge of your nose. ‘You dick..’ You scoffed, leaning your head onto his shoulder, tucking your arm under his.

‘Do aingeal den sórt sin’

You mumble, directing your attention back to the grey horizon line. ‘What does that mean..?’ Gaz asks, following your gaze outwards. You respond with a simple sigh. The stress and aching dissipated for the moment, something you didn’t want to risk losing with your supposed inability to properly thank Gaz for his tenderness and care.

A/N: ‘Do aingeal den sórt sin’ translates to 'your such an angel' in Irish Gaelic

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burdening-light · 3 months

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i just found an old unfinished os fic where the main premise was that the lamplighter was going to meet up with hatsune miku and oh my god

#i think i made this when twme came out-ish but unsure #anyways i'm just glad i can write better #oneshot game #the lamplighter #plight #ling #oneshot game fanfiction #mfw the name of the game i am into is also a fanfic/dnd/whatever term #this was made on frantic fanfic by myself #i love that game btw

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sundefeaterlou · 8 months

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Denki knew he was in trouble the moment Jirou opened the door. He could practically feel her eyes on him, her lips quirked in a twisted grin that would make Bakugou proud. She strutted — strutted, and she looked good doing it, if he said so himself — over to him, her grin growing wider and wider with each step. An eternity ticked by in the once noisy classroom, all eyes on them. The class collectively held their breath as she stopped and stooped, staring through his eyes and into his very soul.

Normally, attention from Jirou was awesome. She was cool, she was cute, and she was undeniably one of his best friends. At that moment, though, she looked like she wanted to completely and utterly fuck with him. That was marginally less awesome.

Even less awesome than that? No one was saying anything.

Not even Midoriya, who was arguably the single nicest person in the class! Not even Iida, who was — late?

”Hey uh, where’s Class Prez?” Denki asked nervously, leaning as far away from the still staring Jirou as he could without tipping his chair over. He craned his head back, staring imploringly at Kirishima, who was resolutely looking beyond him at Mina like traitor.

Jirou banged her hands against the table, making him jump and sending him careening back onto Kirishima’s desk. “Don’t change the subject,” she all but snapped which - what?

”There isn’t a subject! We aren’t talking about anything!” he wailed. “Yaomomo, help!”

Jirou snarled back at him. “She can’t help you right now!”

Denki tried to flinch even further away, hoisting himself into sitting on Kirishima’s desk even as he fled in the wake of Jirou’s advance. “The hell did I do?”

Jirou finally leaned back, pouting at him, which was in equal parts funny, weird, and terrifying. ”Why didn’t you tell us you had a brother coming to school?!”

Denki stared at her. She stared back, one eyebrow cocked as if he were the absolutely insane one, not her. He’d already told his classmates he didn’t have any siblings — cousins, yeah, distantly! But his parents had decided that one of him was enough was before he’d even hit middle school. It was both the best and worst — he had had all their attention growing up! He had had all their attention growing up.

”Aw, Jirou, maybe he didn’t bring it up ‘cause his brother’s cuter?”

What the fuck Mina.

He was going to defend himself (and what a weird thing to have to defend too, he didn’t know how Midoriya dealt with the majority of the class hounding him about Dad Might) when the door burst open again, revealing Aizawa-sensei, Iida, and —

Oh. Oh, he might have a brother. Even worse than that: Mina was right.

#lou's fics #bnha fanfic #a snippet really #mfw you do a warm up and accidentally start a new fic #crossover

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energysoda · 2 years

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Me when I write FNAF fanfiction for my ib English class 🤭🤭

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andionhold · 1 year

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Me: *inhales* *exhales* deep breaths sister, deep breaths.... Me: ...

Me: ..

Me: .

Me: SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

#ao3 #this has ruined me #why #omfg #fanfiction #fanfic readers #mfw #i know im not the only one #go on then #deny it #triple dog dare you #i will not suffer alone #archive of our own #im dead

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katyspersonal · 1 year

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Also I had a dream that I was sort of an apprentice/underling of Djura and even had a small room of workshop on my own! I was creating some guns but I was working on a huge static one that'd work automatically even in my absence? It used both actual mechanics and Arcane stuff, like eyes of Kin used in it would automatically spot an enemy and determine what to shoot them with more or less, and besides normal bullets and big explosive bullets there were also parts of phantasms such as Call Beyond parasite to cause shooting of small projectiles, and lasers (I presume Kin eyes included were Amygdala's then..... rip)

I haven't finished working on that thing before alarm clock worked but dammit combining engine and Arcane was such a cool idea hahaha; I GOTTA use it somewhere

#personal #dreams #yet again i should just make side blog to share dreams in #every other night it is some cool stuff #one of the recent ones was also like #a woman named Ivy that was captain of the ship luring Gehrman to go travel with her and-#-he ended up trapped in the infinity lake not unlike Rom's trap fgjhjgghgk #holy shit her name was IVY!! like how much you wanna bet that was humanoid reflection of Flora sort of #GOs are weird #but dammit Flora cant leave him alone even in alternative timeline!#creepy fhgjfvjkkk #or like a dream from longer ago about how Mensis had 11 other members besides Damian and Micolash #so they were 13 creepy dudes which is very fitting for a cult like this #mfw I think about BB so much that my imagination is CHEATING by writing stuff on its own through dreams #...wait does that count as AI generated fanfic since I do not have free will on my dreams?#oh fucking dAMMIT

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nightvale-thoughts · 2 years

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Every day i miss Dr. Young so much.. the only thing he did wrong was slay too hard </3 ...my blorbo... my skrungly....... i'd die for him.

#sayer podcast #mfw i doom humanity by trying to 1 up this ai I've had a decade-long pissing contest with ??? hashtag whoopsie :)#need to write a 200k enemies to lovers fanfic abt him n.... u know what nvm

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mudkyps · 9 months

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#ejak post #mfw i read a fanfic and its 16/?? chapters. titled said on indifinite hiatus. last updated 3 years ago.

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clearlyclueless · 9 months

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I hate reading something and getting slapped in the face with my own name or the name if someone im not friends with anymore it just gives me such a headache 😭

#mfw the fanfic im reading says the name of my ex #im literally so sick #how do you manage to do that ITS NOT EVEN A REAL NAME

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imaginesandbandfiction · 3 months

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Triad Part 7 — Trouble in Paradise

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

A/N: MFW the silly little smut drabble series I started over winter break starts developing a plot :o

Lmaooo I should have seen this coming. Be patient with me, I'm in a creative writing MFA program so fanfic isn't my priority rn but this series is begging to be written so I'm going to follow those vibes as far as they take me, just bear with me if updates are sporadic.

Click here to be added to the taglist so you never miss an update!

Warnings: Angst, some smut

Of course, there’s a learning curve that comes with a Triad Bond. Sex is the easy part—being in a relationship with two bullheaded Illyrian males is more complicated.

Rhys tried his best not to send any of you on solo missions but, inevitably, something came up and Azriel had to go undercover in the Court of Nightmares. It’s a top-secret mission and he has to block you and Cassian out the entire time he’s there, lest someone learn the true reason for his visit.

And… it was a lot easier to be a spy without two mates waiting for him back home. His mental shields are ironclad, trapping all the frustration and sadness behind closed doors, but it seeps out in other ways. His shadows are way more vicious than they normally are and, after long days spent playing nice with Keir and his cronies, as soon as his bedroom door locks behind him, he fists his cock in quick strokes. It takes a matter of minutes for him to spill himself into the mattress with how pent-up he is.

Things aren’t much better in Velaris. Sure, you and Cas have each other, but the bond hates the dark hole where Az should be and no matter how hard you try to soothe the ache, it never goes away.

Cassian throws himself into training; on days he doesn’t have other work to do, he flies out to Windhaven and spends the day beating the shit out of anyone who dares challenge him. When he comes home late at night, you patch him up with soft, delicate touches and hold him until his tears dry up.

Sex isn’t the same without Azriel there, either. You try to hold out; it feels wrong without him, but everything boils over a week into his absence.

Cassian spent the day in Windhaven, again, and you wait up with a book and a cup of tea but it’s morning when he slams through the door drenched in blood and reeking like the mixed-together contents of a liquor cabinet.

“Cas?” You mumble, lifting your head off the couch cushion and rubbing your eyes as you push yourself into a sitting position. He stomps past you into the bedroom and you hear the water running as he fills the bath. Stifling a yawn, you push through the nausea swirling in your gut and follow him on your tiptoes.

When you push the washroom door open, you see his broad shoulders bent over the edge of the half-filled tub, bloodied and shaking with the force of his sobs.

You surge forward and fall to your knees next to him, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” you whisper, rubbing his back. His head drops to your chest and you feel his rumbling anger in your soul.

Y/N? It’s Rhys’ voice in your head, tentative and sheepish. Is he okay?

No, you snarl back, immediately feeling guilt for the harshness of your words. But Ariel is gone, Cassian is broken, and your heart is torn in two. You force yourself to be gentler as you ask: Is there something I should know?

Rhys hesitates. Devlon called me in to fetch him this morning and… it wasn’t pretty. I’ll send word to Madja and tell her you’re going to be out for a few days.

Before you can protest, he continues. I know you’ve been working overtime. You’re running yourself ragged, Y/N. You need a break just as much as he does.

Rhysand cuts off the mental connection in the middle of your indignant huff, but the gears in your mind are turning. Instead of turning to each other in Az’s absence, you’ve been burying yourselves in solitude and work. Clearly, something has to change.

You loosen the strip of leather holding Cas’s hair up and sprinkle deep purple healing magic into it as you run your fingers through his thick locks. It’s just enough to calm him down, sobs tapering off into shuddering breaths.

“Cas?” You ask when he finally stills, slumping boneless against you. “Whose blood is this?”

He tilts his head back, guilt filling in every line on his face, and your heart clenches. No wonder Rhys offered to talk to Madja for you; he probably needed her to fix whatever damage Cassian’s misplaced anger had caused.

“‘M sorry,” Cas whispers, burying his face in your neck again. “I didn’t mean to, I just…”

“Shhh,” you shushed him, curling one arm to cradle his head. “I know you didn’t, baby. Rhys does too. This is new territory for all of us, and there were bound to be some kinks to work out.” Cas nods against you and you squeeze him as tight as you can, channeling love and healing magic through the bond. Behind you, the tub is full of steamy hot water, so you wave your hand to get rid of Cas’s clothes and help him into the bath.

When he’s settled, you shed your nightgown and get in with him. He rests his head against the side of the tub and lets you run a bar of soap over the planes of his muscles, healing bruises and scrapes as you find them.

"Thank you," he whispers once you’ve finished. He reaches one hand out and pulls you against his chest without opening his eyes.

The bond settles as much as it can without a third anchor to tether itself to. You lay there, basking in the soft glow of your mingling magic, until suddenly Cassian stands up, pushing you off him.

“Sorry,” he grunts when you fall forward, splashing into the water. “I just…” You follow his gesturing hand down the V of his hips and the problem stares out at you—long, thick, and hard. “I dunno, it feels wrong without Az.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, torn between the mouth-watering sight of him on display, just inches from your face, and the guilt bubbling up inside you. In the end, the bond makes the decision for you, practically shoving you forward to pull Cas’s cock in between your lips.

His protests are dead on arrival; you don’t even hear them, too focused on pouring all your pent-up sexual frustration out onto him.

After just a few minutes, his hips are bucking wildly and he forces himself to pull back. You look up at him with wide eyes and saliva dripping down your chin, and he growls, tugging you out of the tub so he can shove you against the wall. He drops to his knees and drapes one of your legs over his shoulder, devouring you like a man starved.

With no patience left for teasing, he fucks you with his tongue, plunging deep into your core until you’re writhing against him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, tumbles out of your head and into his as the pleasure builds and builds.

That's it, baby, he sends back down the bond, digging into your sweet spot with one of his fingers. Let go for me.

Your body follows his command, the tightly wound coil inside of you snapping as soon as you have permission. He grins against you as you fuck his face, riding out your high.

As soon as he pulls away, he’s got his hands under your ass, hauling you up into his arms as he presses his cock into your slick folds. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively as your head drops back against the wall.

It’s quick and dirty. Without Azriel there to force you to slow down and savor each other, you’re teetering on the edge of a second orgasm before you’ve fully recovered from the first. Cassian’s thrusts grow sloppier and you feel through the bond that his release is looming.

When he ducks his head to pull one of your nipples between his teeth, both of you lose the last of your self-control. Cas drives his hips into you and fills you up, tipping you over the cliff. You clench your walls around him as your release comes gushing out.

Meanwhile, in one of the training rooms under the mountain, a wave of something washes over Az as he’s running through drills against a training dummy with Truth Teller. At first, he thinks it’s nausea and regrets not stopping by the kitchens to grab a bite earlier, but the ache is too low to be coming from his stomach.

When he reaches one gloved hand to palm himself through his leathers, he’s shocked to find his cock solid and straining against the fabric. He thanks the Mother that he’s training alone today and makes quick work of it.

Three weeks into Az’s mission, Mor heads under the mountain to check on him under the guise of visiting her father. She enters the dining room and immediately realizes that something is wrong. There’s a woman sitting to Kier’s right, and Az is on her other side. His shadows nip at Mor’s toes like she’s the enemy as she takes her seat on her father’s left.

He refuses to speak to her, but when they make eye contact during dessert, his eyes are dark and stormy, filled with shadows of their own.

When she retires to her room later that night, she reports back to Rhys who orders her to pull Az out as soon as she can.

Despite the fact that they haven’t slept together in decades, it’s easy to slip back into old habits. The next morning at breakfast, she lays it on thick. By dinner time, her father merely waves them off when she requests the Shadowsinger for her own personal reasons.

“Go on then,” he grunts, rolling his eyes. “I’ll let the High Lord know when I require your presence next.”

As soon as they’ve both gathered their belongings, Mor winnows them away. When his feet touch solid ground, Az shoves her away with a snarl. His shadows surge forward to cushion her back and prevent her from falling; even blinded by his anger, he doesn't want to hurt her.

“What the fuck,” he growls. “I wasn’t done!”

“I have orders to pull you out of there. Rhys thinks you’ve gone in too deep.” Az growls like a feral animal being forced into a cage.

“Rhysand needs me in there now more than ever. Something’s happening, Mor. Something big, and I was working my way in, I—“

Mor cuts him off, holding a hand up to silence him.

“You think I don’t know that? Whether I like it or not, that’s my father. I know something’s up, but Rhys needs you in there, Azriel. And you’re not you right now. You’re cold and ruthless, not thinking clearly after too much time away from your mates.”

Az deflates and drops onto the sofa behind him. It’s the worn old leather one in Rhys’s mother’s cottage, in Windhaven. Mor sits down next to him, rubbing a hand across his shoulders, careful to avoid brushing against his wings which are rigid and full of tension.

“It’s not your sole responsibility to save the world, Az. You’re an excellent spy, but you’re more than that, too. Don’t let the tunnel vision take over.”

Az drops his head into his hands, letting out all of the air in his lungs with one deep sigh. He knows she’s right, that the bond should be a strength and not a weakness, but he’s terrified that something will happen to his mates. He couldn’t risk it, not when he was down there.

But that wasn’t his decision to make alone. The more he fought against the bond, the more it fought back, rattling his brain and tugging at every one of his senses. The effort to keep it bottled up drained his energy until all he could see was the mission, his purpose. Gathering information about the woman, Amarantha, became the most important thing in his life.

So he feels like a bit of an asshole when he turns up on your doorstep with his rucksack slung over one shoulder and only a faint shimmer of the bond left flickering inside his chest. It’s not enough to keep him tethered to the two of you, so he has no idea how you're feeling, but he forces himself to knock on the door, anyway.

“Hi,” you whisper, letting your arm drop from the doorknob to your side. On your end, the bond bursts into bright golden flames that shoot down, making a beeline for Azriel.

It tugs at Cas’s side, too, and then his head pops up behind your shoulder.

“Hi,” he says, flashing the dopiest grin that Azriel has ever seen.

Taglist: @wallacewillow0773638 @hnyclover

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yuunemi · 1 year

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Miss Me, Miss Me, Now You Gotta Kiss Me

FEATURING : L365 Men (EITM, MLFK, SITS, KBTBB, SCM, KOP, BUM, MFW, LLFTX) + CoD Men

GENRE : CRACK FLUFF

C/W : FEM!MC AND MENTION OF THE WORD K!LL

LIBRARIAN'S NOTE/S : an entry for the Voltage Fandom Content Creation Challenge hosted by @voltagefandomproject. I sincerely apologize for posting very late. this is written in 2nd pov and I apologize in advance for grammatical errors and if some characterizations are off since all insights are based on ms1 stories, snippets, and other fanfics/thoughts from others. if other LIs are not here then that means I am too uncertain about their personality. other than that, enjoyy~~

NOTES & REBLOGS ARE ALWAYS VERY MUCH APPRECIATED ^^

SCENARIO

Wherein MC impulsively sings “Miss me, miss me, now you gotta ki—” once he returned home after a long trip but you stop yourself from finishing it upon realizing what the next words were. Your face flushed red from the embarrassment. (This can also apply if you just start singing it out in the blue).

HIS REACTION!

1. He will tease you and say "Now I gotta what?" He knows full well what the next words are, and he will not stop teasing you about it, not until you say the next words

Miyabi, KYOGA, Ayato Hidaka, Ichiya Misono, KYOHEI RIKUDOH, Nagito Aoshima, Eisuke Ichinomiya, Ota Kisaki, MITSUNARI BABA, Leon, Teorus, ICHYTHYS, Tauxolouve, Yosuke Sagara, SHUN RANDOH, Yuma Akagi, TAKAMASA SAEKI, FENN LUXURE, Roy Invidia, and Jasper Lane

No doubt that they would tease you to death, you missed him and he knows it

It is an ego boost for them

I put Leon in both 1 and 2 knowing that he would possibly do it in that order, like you say it > he kisses you > he says number 2

Saeki might even go "Awww, my honey missed meee~~"

I personally think that Fenn would be the biggest tease among everyone. He finds it so amusing that he'll laugh and he won't even try to hide it.

Roy and Jasper will feign cluelessness while teasing you into saying it

2. Much like number one but instead of waiting for you to say it, he will just kiss you and then say "If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask" bro will be smirking at you

Shinra, HIROKI ENIWA, IORI ENJO, Kota Igarashi, EISUKE ICHINOMIYA, Mamoru Kishi, Leon, Scorpio, PARTHENO, Kiyohito Shirakami, Yamato Kougami, and GUY AVARI

I put Eisuke in both numbers knowing that it is possible because I feel like he would do 1 and 2 in that order

Shinra, Kota, and Kiyohito might even blush about it, especially Shinra who would act cocky about it all the while he is blushing

You know Hiroki's princely-like pose where he raises his head with a subtle smirk, that's what he would look like while saying it

Okay, Kota is not the type to smirk but like do his expression where he puts his hand over his face and blush

3. He knows what the next words are, he is amused. He found it cute and kissed you

Chikage, SAMON, MAKOTO MORIMACHI, Ryo Chibana, Soryu Oh, HUEDHAUT, Dui, KARNO, Zyglavis, Taki Kozaki, Takao Maruyama, Kenshi Inagaki, Toa Qelsum, TINO VALENTINE, and Lou

Samon, Makoto, and Karno would probably even pat your head after giving you the kiss

You know the soft doting look that Makoto has, yes that's what he would look like

Tino might even blush about it and I think that he probably chose to stay quiet so as to not embarrass you any further because he is considerate like that

Huedhaut and Lou would definitely chuckle at your behavior

4. "Yeah? Now I gotta what?" He is genuinely clueless, so you gotta tell him and finish the sentence if you really want that kiss

Chikage, Yukinojo, Takamune Kitami, RIKU MORIMACHI, Takashi Ninagawa, Soryu Oh, Rhion Hatter, AIGONORUS, Yonghua, REN SHIBASAKI, LYNT AKEDIA, Toa Qelsum, and Grayson Hotz

Chikage, Soryu, and Toa are literally so similar because of how cool and distant they are. Moreover, knowing these three, I feel like they are in between 3 and 4 because those three are also like so smart, no shot, they are unaware, but they're quite dense sometimes so-

Riku, Aigonorus, and Lynt are quite the airheads so you literally have to spell it out to them, but I wouldn't put it past Riku to feign cluelessness just to tease you

In the case, that Soryu is in a good and he knows what the next words are but you aren't saying them then he will probably say, "You might wanna say it unless you want me to misunderstand and think I want to kill you." but we all know that he wouldn't do that because he even refuses to point a gun at a woman. He is respectful and principled like that

Nah cause even though half of these men are smart-asses, you sometimes just have to spell it out because of how absorbed they can get from their passions; like Takamune with soccer, Takashi with music, etc.

5. Another one who is genuinely clueless but will still kiss you nonetheless because they missed you too

Yukinojo, Rhion Hatter, KRIOFF, and RIO VOLERI

Okay, so I put Yukinojo here as well cause I really feel like he might be clueless but whether he'd push you to say it or not is something I'm not sure cause he does not seem to be the forceful type either and would be the type to think/reason "If you wanted to tell me, you would, but if you didn't then you must have your reasons".

For Rhion, same reason as Yukinojo, but I think he also leans more toward the curious type. Depending on the topic, he might press for answers, but he doesn't seem that pushy either.

Krioff is a gentleman, and I don't think he would push you to say it either unless he senses something amiss or bad about it.

Rio would definitely let out a hearty laugh since he sees you lightly blushing. He'll say, "Hahaha! Whatever that is, you're right, I missed you." or somewhere along those lines before kissing you.

6. "Ha? You're only saying that because you're the one who misses me." He missed you but won't admit it

RIN YAKUMO, TAKUTO HIRUKAWA, AND KNIGHT

Okay, hear me out, I put this specifically for them because of how Tsundere they can get. (Again, this is all according to what I've observed from them, and I haven't read Knight's route yet, but he literally gives me Tsun-Tsun vibes).

There is no way that those two are not blushing while or after saying that

Mention that he is blushing, and he will blush twice as much

!! DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE ELSE !! THIS IS THE PROPERTY OF YUUNEMI !! IT DOESN’T CLAIM TO OWN THE CHARACTERS THAT BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS !!

#voltage fandom ccc #voltage love 365 #court of darkness #enchanted in the moonlight #my last first kiss #scandal in the spotlight #kissed by the baddest bidder #star crossed myth #kings of paradise #butler until midnight #my forged wedding #love letter from thief x #I PRESSED CTRL Z WITHOUT KNOWING IT WOULD UNDO THE WHOLE THING TT I HAD TO REDO MY MASSIVE PROGRESS PLEASE TT #NAH CAUSE I GOT SO USED TO PRESSING CTRL Z EVERYTIME I HAD TO UNDO SOMETHING AND I DIDNT KNOW DOING IT ON TUMBLR UNDOS EVERYTHING 😭😭😭😭#my favoritism isn't totally showing haha-#anyhoww if there are any criticizementss please be gentle with mee :"DD

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