Good Neito everyone

I am dumb. Nate

[semisutopia]

imayoshi shoichi headcanons ₊˚⊹♡

a/n: AHHHHHH this man has a CLUTCH on me my GAWD. this is college Shoichi :)

general headcanons ₊˚⊹♡

→ he is, by far, the most advanced cook out of the cast. 

→ now, don’t get me wrong, the others are great at cooking, but Shoichi has TECHNIQUES. 

→ he learned how to cook from a young age simply because he had to.

→ his mother was out of the picture almost immediately after his sister was born, and his dad is a nurse at Sasaki General, so he was left to fend for him and his sister.

→ obviously, he started off with more basic, cheap things, but he soon got invigorated by the art of cooking. he would watch cooking tutorials by fancy chefs and try to emulate the results using the tools and ingredients he had at home.

→ when his dad saw how much he loved cooking, he splurged and bought his son some more higher quality pans and utensils.

→ is SO good at picking out the best produce. please please go grocery shopping with him, he’ll get you the freshest, most ripe fruits and veggies you’ll ever eat.

→ he doesn’t have a specific “style” that he sticks to, but he favors a lot of long sleeves. mostly sweaters. 

→ there’s no reason he prefers long sleeves over having his arms exposed, he just likes feeling engulfed by his clothes.

→ don’t get me wrong, if he’s doing something or if he gets too hot, he is 100% pushing his sleeves up LIKE A WHORE.

→ he really likes matcha. he got introduced into ‘matcha culture’ because of his sister, and where she likes her matcha lattes on the sweeter side, he prefers his more earthy.

→ his music tastes are on two ends of a very long spectrum. one side, there’s music he listens to when he’s perhaps studying, perhaps cooking. things like laufey, sombr, maybe even some SEVENTEEN or mitski. and on the other end, he likes listening to nightcore songs and hard EDM stuff (angel with a shotgun’s biggest fan over here 👈).

→ he’s more of a savory > sweet guy, but he’s not really gonna say…NOT accept a pastry if offered.

→ he knows how to drive a car. their family has a pretty small, but very decent car. they like going on small trips together when they have time. 

→ speaking of this, the Imayoshi family is extremely close. they’ve gone through a lot AS A FAMILY, and they’re so protective of each other.

→ okay that’s so sappy, let’s make Shoichi look more pathetic.

→ he can’t do horror at all. him and his sister would squirm whenever their dad told them ER stories so he CANNOT do gore in any capacity.

→ THAT BEING SAID, he’s so good at taking care of people if they’re hurt or bleeding (truly his father’s son).

→ one of his favourite movies is Ponyo. in his words, “movies are a way to comfort yourself and take yourself out of the difficult reality you’re in.”

→ he also really likes Rush Hour :)

→ cats. LOVE HIM. it is unexplainable, but if there are cats ANYWHERE in the area, they’re climbing his leg the second they see him.

→ his family is quite frugal, since only his father earns for the entire family, but him and his sister are SO GOOD about everything. they never make their dad feel like he’s not taking care of them. they take what their dad gives them, and try to give it back to him tenfold.

→ can you tell i love this family :(((

→ he can spin a lot of things in his hand. like, pens, pencils, cooking utensils, etc.

→ his favourite colours are probably lilac or lavender.

relationship headcanons ₊˚⊹♡

→ is SUUUUCH a good boyfriend oh my word.

→ he’s pretty, like, perfect.

→ i honestly do not know what to say because he’s just that UGH i need him….

→ he’s super caring and patient.

→ more patience than anyone could possibly have, honestly. i think dealing with Aomine on a daily basis has desensitized him to normal people fuck-ups.

→ is he still evil? mmmmyeahhhhhhh.

→ BUT HE’S HOT SO IT’S FINE!

→ lol i joke. he actually hates being called ‘evil’ by you. he starts whining and pouting whenever you call him that. not because it actually gets to him. he knows you’re just teasing him, but he still feels pouty whenever he sees the grin on your face when you call him that. 

→ did i mention he’s a great cook? oh, i did? good.

→ the first meal he made for you was ratatouille, because that was the first ‘high-end feeling’ meal he ever made.

→ ironic for two reasons; 1) ratatouille is not actually a high-end dish. it’s actually more cheap than most French dishes, and 2) he’s never seen the movie ‘Ratatouille’ before.

→ suffice to say, you made him watch it.

→ he liked it :) (and maybe he teared up a little but SHH DON’T SAY ANYTHING)

→ he’s such a gentleman oh my god. mostly because he has a younger sister who he takes care of, but he TAKES. CARE. OF. YOU!!!!!!

→ can you tell i’m so passionate about this man….

→ he’s a ‘doll’ or ‘princess’ kinda guy.

→ and the way he says it with his Kansai dialect……KILL ME NOW. PLEASE.

→ his love languages in order of most to least: acts of service, quality time, physical touch, words of affirmation, and gift giving.

→ he looooves cooking for you. 

→ he does, however, hate cooking WITH you. nothing to do with you, trust. he just hats it when people are in his way when he’s cooking. he has his techniques and his way of doing things, and he’d much prefer that you sit at the table and look pretty while he’s cooking. maybe yap his ear off so he can chime in with an “oh, really? tell me more, hun”.

→ FAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

→ he is SUCH a sucker for kisses. 

→ doesn’t matter where. lips, neck, forehead, finger, palm, nose, head, DOESN’T MATTER HE LOVES THEM

→ i will say though, because he’s so tall, he likes giving you a gentle kiss on your cheekbone whenever he stand behind you.

→ his sister loves you :( 

→ she’s in her first year of high school, so she looks up to you quite a bit.

→ she also gangs up on his brother whenever you make fun of him.

→ and, while his father has a somewhat intimidating facade, it took only a moments observing you with his son to approve of you.

→ he knows how to braid hair because he’s who does his sister’s hair. so, if you ever ask him to braid your hair, he is sitting behind you and brushing your hair before you finish speaking.

→ HIS hair is pretty long, too, so he lets you braid his hair, too. 

→ did i mention he’s perfect? okay, good.

→ good morning, good evening, and goodnight.

all rights go to @semisutopia on tumblr. please don't copy or plagiarise my work. that's really lame of you.

a/n: @calebxia @shoichee @saenora @seizuki *makes a basketball shot* this one's for you *hits the hoop*

[seizuki]

MOVE. NEW POST ABT HIM.

[seizuki]

Let's ignore the uneven eyes.... ok...?

[valentinesxoxo]

⋆˚࿔ᯓ 𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐬!

⤷ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬.ᐟ- the boys had been unusually clingy that day, all of them gathered around you in a rare moment where everyone’s guard fell at the same time. they adored being close to you—your warmth, your presence, the way you laughed when they teased each other. somewhere in that comfortable haze, one of them leaned down and gave a gentle, playful bite to your thigh, and the others followed with equally soft, harmless nips.

the moment they realized what they’d done, they froze.

all of them immediately apologized—tripping over their own words, faces warm with embarrassment. they explained that sometimes their affection comes out in impulsive ways, especially when they’re overwhelmed by how much they care for you. it wasn’t meant to hurt you or make you uncomfortable; it was just their strange, instinctive way of showing attachment.

you reassured them you were okay, and their tension eased as they promised to always ask next time—no surprises, no impulsive bites—only affection you want and welcome.

⤷ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠.ᐟ- rudo ৴ enjin ৴ tamsy ৴ zanka ৴ corvus ৴ august ৴ gris ৴ follo ৴ fu ৴ zodyl ৴ jabber

(creds to that one girl who requested this, i accidentally deleted your prompt💔)

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ rudos surebrec (aged up!)

after a long day of beating trash beasts into dust, you and rudo were exhausted—sore, grimy, clothes torn in places—but the moment the door to your shared room clicked shut behind you, the tension drained from his shoulders.

he didn’t say anything at first. he never really had to. instead, he just pulled you toward the bed, letting himself fall onto it with a sigh before tugging you down beside him.

you barely had time to settle before he crawled into your space, pressing his forehead against your shoulder, arms sliding around your waist. rudo always cuddled like someone who’d been starved of warmth all his life—tight, quiet, precious.

you ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands fall through your hands. “today was crazy,” you started rambling, voice relaxed, “i swear those things are getting faster. and then enjin made me— well, actually, i don’t even know why he made me wait until he strikes first, but—”

you kept talking, hopping from topic to topic with no real structure. one minute about training, the next about a random bird you saw, then about how your shoelace kept coming untied.

rudo didn’t interrupt. he just listened, humming sometimes, letting your voice wash over him.

he shifted a little, head dipping lower until he rested it on your thigh. his arms tightened around your waist as if anchoring himself to you.

you kept talking—something about a snack you wanted to try later—when suddenly rudo’s grip flexed, fingers pressing into your side as he leaned down and gave your thigh a small bite.

“…rudo?” you paused, half laughing, half surprised, hand hovering above his head.vhe froze. then he slowly lifted his head, eyes wide, ears going red.

“s—sorry,” he muttered, voice lower than usual. “i didn’t— i mean, i didn’t think. it just… happened.” you laughed softly. “why’d you do it?”

rudo’s gaze darted away, jaw tightening before he finally confessed, “you… talk in this way that makes me feel calm. after everything today… i just… wanted to feel you. to know you’re here. sometimes i get this… urge.”

he swallowed hard, burying his face back against your stomach to hide how flustered he was. “not to hurt you—never that. just… to be close. biting feels… grounding.”

you gently ran your fingers through his hair again, smiling. “you can just say you wanted attention, you know.”

he groaned quietly, embarrassed. “…yeah. that too.” you tilted his chin up with your hand, meeting his eyes. “it didn’t hurt. you’re okay.”

rudo relaxed immediately, shoulders dropping as he settled back against you. he curled himself into you even tighter, mumbling against your thigh— “good… ’cause i really like being here. like this.”

you stroked his hair again, voice soft. “then stay.”

and he did—quiet, warm, content, wrapped around you as you kept talking about everything and nothing, his small bite already forgotten… except for the faint blush that lingered on his cheeks the rest of the night.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ enjin

you were both exhausted from the day, the kind of tired that sinks deep into your bones. once you made it back to your room, you didn’t even bother turning on the main light — the soft lamp by the bed was enough.

enjin didn’t say much as he tugged you down onto the mattress with him, one arm immediately curling around your waist. he always cuddled with purpose: steady, dependable, protective.

his black-painted nails traced slow, absentminded lines along your waist, following the shape of your body like he was memorizing it for the hundredth time. “you comfortable?” he asked quietly, voice low and calm against your ear.

you nodded, melting into him. “yeah. you?” “mm.” he pulled you even closer, chin brushing your forehead. “better now.”

you both lay there wrapped together, your fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin. he let out a soft breath at that, the rhythm of his touches slowing.

after a moment, he shifted, sliding down slightly so his head rested against your stomach. his hair brushed your skin as he settled, arms still snug around your waist.

you were in the middle of stroking through his hair when you felt it— a gentle little bite to your thigh.

your voice hitched. “enjin—!”

he lifted his head a little, and you saw it— the rare, soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips, the kind he only ever showed you. his shoulders actually shook with a quiet laugh, warm breath fanning against your skin.

“you okay?” he teased lightly, eyes half-lidded with amusement. you covered your face with both hands, heat rushing up your neck. “you can’t just— bite people out of nowhere!”

he rested his chin on your stomach, looking up at you with that calm, steady gaze that always seemed to cut straight through you. “you were talking,” he murmured. “and your voice was relaxing. i felt close to you. i just…”

his fingers slid up your side again, nails light against your skin. “…wanted a little more.” you swallowed, flustered and unable to stop smiling. “you could’ve just said that.”

enjin hummed. “i did.” “no, you bit me.” he let out another quiet laugh, deeper this time. “same thing.”

you smacked his shoulder lightly, but he only shifted closer, laying his head on your thigh now like it was his pillow. “i didn’t hurt you,” he said softly—almost a question, almost a reassurance.

“no,” you admitted, brushing your thumb over the curve of his ear. “just… surprised me.”

his eyes softened. “then let me stay here.”

and with his head warm against your thighs, his nails drawing gentle patterns on your waist, and that rare smile still lingering on his face, you let him.

enjin didn’t bite you again— but he didn’t stop laughing quietly to himself about your flustered reaction, either.

you were still warm from the first surprise bite, your thigh tingling where his teeth had brushed your skin. enjin, meanwhile, looked entirely too pleased with himself — his head resting comfortably on your stomach, his arms draped around your waist like he had zero intention of ever moving again.

his black-painted nails drew lazy circles on your hip, each touch slow and deliberate. “you’re still red,” he noted calmly, eyes half-lidded as he watched your face.

you groaned. “well, whose fault is that?”

he didn’t answer. instead, his lips twitched into that subtle little smile — the one that meant he was thinking something he definitely wasn’t going to tell you.

you tried to ignore it, threading your fingers into his hair again. “just relax. we’re cuddling. no more surprises.”

“…sure,” enjin said in a tone that was absolutely not reassuring.

before you could question it, he shifted just slightly — enough for you to feel his breath trail down the inside of your thigh. your heart jumped, breath catching.

“enjin— don’t—”

too late. another soft bite, even gentler than the first, but still enough to make your whole body jolt.

you slapped a hand over your mouth, a helpless noise slipping out anyway.

enjin laughed. actually laughed. a deep, quiet sound straight from his chest.

“you’re adorable,” he murmured, nuzzling the spot he’d just bitten. “i knew you’d react like that.”

you lightly smacked his shoulder. “you did that on purpose!”

he didn’t even pretend to deny it. “yes.”

“why?”

he rested his chin on your thigh, looking up at you with that maddeningly calm expression. “because you get flustered,” he said simply.

you covered your face, groaning into your hands. “you’re impossible…” “mm. but you’re still holding me,” he pointed out, slipping one arm tighter around your waist. “so i’m not too impossible.”

your heart fluttered embarrassingly hard. “don’t say things like that—”

“why not?” he asked, voice dropping to a warm murmur. “you look cute when you get shy.”

you squeaked — actually squeaked — and he let out another low laugh, clearly enjoying every second of your reaction.

but then he softened, leaning forward to kiss the spot he’d bitten, slow and gentle. “no more biting,” he whispered. “not unless you want me to.”

you peeked at him through your fingers, cheeks burning. “maybe… later,” you muttered.

enjin smiled — small, warm, and just for you. “i’ll hold you to that.” and he curled back into you, head nestled on your stomach again, one hand stroking your side as if nothing had happened.

except he was definitely hiding a smirk. and you were definitely still blushing.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ tamsy caines

tamsy had claimed his usual place stretched across your stomach, arms loosely wrapped around your waist as if he were afraid you’d drift away. his long blond hair — tied up but messy from the day — spilled over your skin while you absentmindedly ran your fingers through it, brushing the strands in slow, calming strokes.

he loved this. he loved you like this — gentle, warm, relaxed. his body molded into yours, every inhale syncing with your breathing as though your heartbeat steadied his.

but tonight… something was different.

his eyes kept sliding up toward you, lingering on your face, your mouth, your throat, and then drifting back down to where his head rested. each glance held a spark — not mischief, not playfulness — but something far more territorial, deep, and quietly needy.

“you’re staring at me again,” you murmured, nudging his cheek with your knuckles.

tamsy shrugged, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips gave him away. “can’t help it,” he said, voice low. “you’re too pretty.”

your cheeks warmed. “tamsy…”

but he wasn’t listening anymore — not really. he shifted lower, his breath brushing along your hip bone. his hands settled firmly on your sides, thumbs stroking circles against your skin as if he were preparing you, easing you into something he’d already decided on.

“what are you doing?” you asked, though your voice had already softened.

he didn’t respond with words. instead, he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to your hip. another to the tender spot just above your thigh. and then one more, dangerously close to where your breath caught in your throat.

“tamsy,” you whispered, half warning, half plea. “don’t you dare—”

a soft laugh vibrated against your skin. “oh, i’m going to.”

before you could shut your legs or squirm away, he opened his mouth and sank his teeth into your thigh — hard enough to mark, soft enough to make heat bloom under your skin instead of pain.

you gasped, hands flying to his hair. he kept you still with a firm grip on your hips, holding you steady while he made the mark exactly how he wanted it — deep, full, and impossible to hide.

when he finally pulled back, your thigh was already flushed with a darkening imprint of his teeth.

“tamsy!” you squeaked, covering the bite with your hand. “that’s— that’s huge!”

he only smiled up at you, satisfied, smug, absolutely unashamed.

“good,” he said. not teasing — serious.

you stared at him. “good?! what do you mean good?!” he rested his chin on your stomach, his fingers sliding over your marked thigh with a slow, possessive graze.

“i want everyone to see it,” he murmured. “to know you’re mine.”your breath hitched — not from the bite, but from the way he looked at you then.

soft eyes. soft voice. deadly serious.

“tamsy…” you whispered, flustered beyond belief. he lifted himself just enough to kiss your tummy, then your hip, then the edge of the bite mark he’d left.

“what?” he asked, feigning innocence. “it’s true. i don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. i want them to know you chose me.”

your heart thudded violently at his words.

he snuggled back down, head on your stomach like he hadn’t just claimed you in the most blatant way possible.

“besides,” he added, flicking your thigh playfully, “you blush like crazy when i mark you. it’s cute.”

you groaned and covered your face with your hands, heat rushing up your neck.

tamsy only laughed — low and warm — and pulled your hand away so he could lace his fingers with yours.

“too late now,” he whispered. “you’re mine… and i’m yours.”

and with that, he kissed the mark again, sealing it like a promise.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ zanka nijiku (aged up!)

paper was everywhere.

markers uncapped, coloring books spread across the floor, and you sitting cross-legged right in the middle of the chaos, looking way too proud of yourself for dragging zanka into this.

he sat beside you, legs stretched out, posture relaxed in that effortless way only he could manage. slender but toned arms resting over his knees, eyes occasionally flicking to your doodles with that calm, unreadable expression he always wore.

you nudged him with your shoulder. “color with me,” you demanded, offering him a random marker.

zanka blinked once. “…why?”

“because it’s cute,” you said simply, forcing the marker into his hand.

he sighed, but the faint curve at the corner of his mouth gave him away — he’d already lost this battle. so he sat there and dutifully colored inside the lines, matching your energy in his quiet, steady way.

eventually, you both sprawled out on the floor, taking a break. you stretched your legs out, leaning back on your hands as you rambled about absolutely nothing — colors, snacks, the shape you accidentally drew that looked like a potato.

zanka listened, as he always did, with soft, silent amusement dancing in his eyes.

then he looked at you. really looked at you. the way your shorts rode up just a bit. the way your thighs tightened when you stretched. the way you were completely unaware of the effect you had on him.

a thought flickered through his mind — a mischievous one. one he rarely acted on, but right now? he wanted to hear it. he wanted to hear that sound you always made when you were flustered.

your whine.

so before you even noticed him move, zanka shifted forward.

“zanka? what are you—” his hand slid along your thigh, steady, warm.

and then he leaned down and bit.

not hard — but firm enough to make your whole body jerk in surprise.

“z-zanka!!” you yelped, voice breaking into exactly the sound he wanted. he pulled back slowly, a calm smirk ghosting over his lips as he watched you clutch your thigh, face flushed and betrayed.

“you…” you whined, narrowing your eyes at him. “why did you do that?!”

zanka rested his elbow on his knee, chin in his hand, looking far too satisfied. “i wanted to hear you make that sound,” he said plainly, honesty as sharp as the bite.

your cheeks burned hotter. “you could’ve just asked!” another small huff of laughter escaped him — rare, soft, and genuine.

“no,” he replied, leaning back on his hands. “this was better.”

you grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. he caught it with one hand without even looking. and when you started whining again about how you were totally going to get him back, zanka’s smirk only deepened.

“go on,” he murmured. “i like it when you complain.”

it didn’t take long.

after the first bite, you scooted away from him dramatically, legs tucked up, glaring at him like he’d personally betrayed the entire foundation of your relationship.

zanka just sat there, calm as ever, marker still in hand, watching you with those steady eyes that gave nothing away—except the slight lift at the corner of his mouth that told you he was enjoying every second.

“don’t even think about doing that again,” you warned, pointing at him accusingly. “i’m not thinking about anything,” he said smoothly.

that was a lie.

you could see it in the way his gaze dipped, slow and deliberate, to your thighs. in the way his posture shifted just a little closer. in the way his fingers drummed once against the floor—restless, tempted.

“zanka,” you said, inching back even more. “i’m serious!”

he hummed. a soft, unimpressed sound. like your threat was cute, but not convincing.

“come here,” he said simply. “no.” “then i’ll come to you.”

you didn’t even have time to protest.

zanka moved with that quiet, controlled grace of his, leaning in before you could scramble away. his hands found your waist, grounding, steady, and he guided you back onto the soft pile of blankets and coloring pages beneath you.

“zanka— don’t—!”

your sentence turned into a squeak the moment his breath brushed your skin. you felt him smile against your thigh.

“i told you,” he murmured, voice low, calm, and annoyingly fond, “i like the way you sound when you whine.”

and then he bit you.

slower this time. more deliberate. teeth sinking just enough to make your whole body shiver.

“ah—! zanka!!” your hands shot to his shoulders, pushing, pulling— you weren’t even sure. all you knew was that heat spread up your neck, your breath got stuck somewhere between a scold and a laugh, and he was far too pleased with himself.

he pulled back, dark eyes lifting to meet yours. “…there it is,” he whispered, the slightest smirk tugging at his lips. “that’s the one.”

“you— you can’t just—!” you were so flustered you couldn’t finish a single sentence.

zanka reached up, thumb brushing the new mark blooming on your thigh. “i can,” he said calmly, “and i did.”

you covered your face with your hands, groaning. “you’re impossible.”

he leaned back, stretching out beside you on the floor, head resting on his arm. “and you’re dramatic,” he said. “but it’s fine.” your fingers peeked out from your face as you glared at him. “i’m not dramatic.”

he tapped your thigh—right where he bit you.

you yelped.

his smirk widened just slightly. “you are.”

“…i hate you,” you muttered.

“mm,” zanka hummed, settling comfortably beside you, “but you still come crawling back every time.”

you grumbled. he chuckled. and somehow, in the pile of coloring pages and blankets, you ended up curling into his side anyway.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ arkha corvus

the room was dim, warm, quiet — the kind of quiet that only existed when corvus let himself fully relax. you were curled into his chest, legs tangled with his, your head resting under his chin while he absentmindedly played with your hip and thigh.

after everything — the long day, the washing, the slow unwinding together — he felt heavy and warm around you, like a weighted blanket made of muscle, heat, and quiet affection.

you shifted slightly, and his hand followed the movement, sliding up and down the side of your thigh with slow, thoughtful strokes.

you didn’t notice the change at first. the way his fingers tightened. the way his breath deepened. the way his eyes followed the shape of your thigh like he was tracing every curve in his mind.

you only noticed when he spoke.

soft. low. certain.

“i want to leave a mark.”

your breath caught.

you knew corvus didn’t say things he didn’t mean. he was straightforward, steady, honest — every word weighed, considered, chosen.

you turned your head slightly. “a… mark?”

“mm.” his hand smoothed over your thigh again, thumb brushing the inside gently. “a little one. just for me.”

your face burned instantly. “w-why?” he leaned closer, lips brushing your shoulder before he answered.

“because i like knowing you’re mine,” he murmured. “and i like knowing people will see it.”

the words sent a shiver through you.

corvus wasn’t possessive in a loud way — he was possessive in a quiet, undeniable, certain way. the kind that felt like a promise, not a threat. the kind that wrapped around you like warmth instead of chains.

he shifted you carefully onto your back, moving with that patient strength he always used with you. he pulled your thigh over his hip, positioning himself between your legs, eyes never leaving yours.

“is this okay?” he asked softly, thumb rubbing small circles into your skin.

you nodded before your voice could catch. “yes…”

his gaze darkened just slightly — not hunger, not aggression, just… focus. attentive, deliberate focus entirely on you.

he lowered his head.

and kissed your thigh first.

slow. warm. like he was asking.

you felt his breath linger against your skin. felt his lips press again, firmer. felt his hand squeeze your hip, grounding you in place.

“corvus…” you whispered, breath trembling.

“i’ve got you,” he murmured.

and then slowly purposefully he bit.

his teeth sank into your thigh with perfect pressure — not sharp enough to hurt, but deep enough to make your body melt, deep enough to leave something that would bloom for hours, maybe days.

a breathy sound escaped you, and corvus exhaled against your skin, pleased, almost proud.

he held the bite for a moment before pulling back, kissing the mark he left.

his voice was quiet when he finally spoke again.

“there.” he brushed the bite gently with his thumb. “mine.”

your cheeks flushed so hard you couldn’t speak. you hid your face in your hands, and corvus chuckled — a deep, soft sound that vibrated through his chest and into you.

he lay back down and pulled you into him, one large hand returning to rest on your thigh, right over the mark he left.

“don’t hide,” he murmured into your hair. “i like seeing you flustered.”

you groaned and buried your face deeper into him, and corvus only laughed again, holding you tighter, proud of the warmth blooming under your skin.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ august stilza

you and august had been working for hours.

fabric everywhere. measuring tape dangling from his neck. pins stuck into a cushion on his wrist. half-finished cleaner uniforms draped over chairs like tired ghosts.

and august was complaining.

loudly.

“i swear if one more seam pops on me— I’M GONNA SCREAM—”

“you’re already screaming,” you muttered, stitching calmly.

“WELL I’M GONNA SCREAM LOUDER,” he snapped dramatically, throwing himself back in his chair.

eventually, the exhaustion caught up to both of you. he flopped onto the floor with a groan, arms spread wide like he’d just been slain by the workload.

“break,” he declared. “we’re taking a break. right now. i’m dying.”

you laughed and lay down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. he didn’t even hesitate — august immediately pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and tucking you into him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

the room went quiet. soft. comfortable.

you felt his chest rise and fall against you, his breath slowly evening out. his fingers idly brushed along your thigh, absentminded and warm, tracing little shapes into your skin.

and then he froze.

you didn’t notice at first. but august did. because a thought hit him like a truck.

a terrible thought. a loud thought.

a fun thought.

“…hey,” he whispered, voice suddenly mischievous. you side-eyed him. “what are you plotting?”

“NOTHING,” he lied immediately— loudly. too loudly. you narrowed your eyes, suspicious, but relaxed again.

that was your mistake. because august’s gaze was locked on your thigh.

and the next second— “wait— augus—!”

chomp.

you yelped, body jolting as he bit your thigh— not hard, but definitely enough to make you squeak in shock.

“AUGUST!!” he pulled back, grinning like he’d just won a championship belt.

“HAHA!! GOT YOU!!” he announced proudly, voice echoing through the entire workshop. you smacked his chest. “what is WRONG with you?!”

he dramatically clutched his heart. “i— i couldn’t help it!! YOU LOOKED BITEABLE!! your thighs were RIGHT THERE!! what was i supposed to do? IGNORE THEM?!”

“yes!!”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT,” he declared. you glared. he beamed. then he leaned in again, voice lowering to a playful whisper against your ear.

“besides… you made the cutest sound.” your face burned instantly, and august saw it. oh, he saw it.

“OH MY GOD— YOU’RE BLUSHING— THIS IS AMAZING— YOU’RE SO CUTE—”

“shut uuuup!” you groaned, burying your face in his chest.

august threw his head back laughing, arms wrapping tight around you as he rolled the two of you across the floor, uniforms and fabric scattering everywhere.

“worth it,” he said, loud and smug. “SO worth it.”

and when you peeked up at him again, he was still grinning like a fool— eyes warm, loud heart even warmer.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ gris rubion

it started with something stupid.

something so stupid that gris would deny it if anyone ever asked.

the two of you were supposed to be relaxing — a rare quiet evening in the living room, him seated on the couch while you lay sideways with your legs across his lap. he was flipping through a book, calm and steady as always, while you scrolled absently on your phone.

everything was peaceful.

until your foot twitched. and accidentally poked his side.

gris froze. you froze. neither of you said anything.

then it happened again.

“...was that on purpose?” gris asked, eyebrow lifting. “no!” you protested, but your voice cracked at the end.

gris was a well-built man in his early 30s — broad shoulders, strong arms, and a presence that made you feel small in all the best ways. but what he never admitted was how easily you amused him.

especially now, when your legs were stretched across him, close enough for him to feel every tiny movement.

“mm.” he hummed, unconvinced, and returned to his book.

you kicked him again. lightly. playfully.

gris slowly closed his book. you swallowed. “gris…?”

he didn’t answer.

instead, he wrapped one large hand around your ankle and dragged you closer — effortlessly, like you weighed nothing. you squeaked as your legs slid further onto his lap, your thigh ending up within his reach.

“you’re restless,” he said simply. “i’m not!” “you are.”

“gris, I—” and then he did the most unexpected thing.

his hand slid up your thigh—warm, slow, deliberate. “maybe this will keep you still,” he murmured.

before you could process what that meant, he leaned down and bit you.

right on the softest part of your thigh.

not hard— just enough pressure to make your breath catch and your whole body jolt. “g—gris!!” you squeaked, face instantly hot.

he exhaled against your skin, calm, unbothered, like he hadn’t just altered the atmosphere in the room entirely.

“mm,” he said quietly, brushing his thumb over the spot, “that worked.”

“y-you can’t just bite me because I kicked you!” “i can,” he said, tone firm but gentle. “and it stopped you.”

you glared at him, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat was pounding.

he glanced down at your thigh again, the faint mark already forming, and — annoyingly — a small smile tugged at his lips.

“you’re cute when you get flustered,” he added.

“i— that’s not fair—”

“you shouldn’t tease me then.”

you buried your face in your hands, groaning, and he rested a warm palm on your leg again, thumb rubbing slow circles right near the bite — like he wanted to remind you it was there.

gris reopened his book, casual as ever, while you melted beside him.

but every once in a while, his eyes drifted back to your thigh— and that tiny smile returned.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ follo tunito

it all started with him losing a battle against boredom.

you were minding your business on the bed, scrolling through your phone, enjoying the quiet, when follo suddenly marched into the room like a man whose life had been ruined by having nothing to do.

“i’m bored,” he declared dramatically, throwing himself onto the mattress beside you. you didn’t even look up. “hello to you too.” “no, you don’t get it.” he sprawled out like a starfish. “i’m, like, existentially bored.”

you snorted. “that sounds like a personal problem.” “it is,” he agreed, rolling onto his stomach. “fix it.”

before you could respond, he started doing that thing where he couldn’t stay still — kicking his feet, tapping the mattress, fidgeting with the blanket, poking your hip with one finger like a child begging for attention.

“what are you doing?” you asked, finally looking down at him. “dying,” he said flatly. “slowly.”

“follo, oh my god.”

he flopped again, face-first into your pillow, then dragged it to his chest and hugged it like the world’s saddest koala. after a moment, he peeked up at you with squinted eyes.

“you’re comfy,” he mumbled. “i’m literally sitting.” “exactly.”

before you could move away, he slid down the mattress with the dramatic flair of someone performing in a play only he knew about. he ended up half on your lap, half on your thigh, looking smug and very proud of himself.

“there,” he said, resting his cheek on your thigh. “much better.”

you felt him settle, arms loosely wrapping around your leg, like holding onto you anchored him. his breathing calmed. his eyelids drooped. for a moment, it was peaceful.

silence.

warmth.

soft breathing against your skin.

and then—

he smirked.

you didn’t see it, but you felt it — that shift in his mood like a spark going off behind his teeth. before you could question anything, he leaned down and bit your thigh.

not hard. but definitely enough to make you gasp and jump.

“follo!” he immediately burst into laughter, hands flying up to hold his stomach as he rolled onto his back.

“oh— oh my god— your noise— your FACE—” he laughed so hard he kicked his feet. you glared down at him, rubbing the spot he’d attacked. “you’re insane.”

still wheezing, he reached up, hooked an arm around your waist, and pulled himself back toward your thighs like a clingy cat.

“i know,” he said proudly. you sighed. “you think this is funny?” “no,” he said, then grinned, “i think it’s hilarious.”

you tried to push him off, but he clung onto your leg dramatically. “no. i live here now. this is my spot.”

“your spot?” “mmhm.” he nestled his cheek back against your thigh. “perfect pillow. warm. soft. reacts beautifully when bitten.”

“follo!”

he just smiled up at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes — the one that said he’d do it again just to hear you whine.

and honestly? he probably would.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ fu orostor (aged up!)

the evening had already melted into that soft, cozy quiet that only came after a long day. your room was dim, lit only by a warm lamp and the soft glow from the hallway. the air felt gentle, peaceful — the kind of peace fu never really got anywhere else.

he hovered by your bed at first, clutching the hem of his shirt, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“y-you’re sure i can… lay down with you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“yes, fu,” you laughed softly. “come here.”

he nodded stiffly, climbing onto the bed like a scared little rabbit. he lay down on his back first — stiff as a board — before slowly turning onto his side to face you. his eyes flicked up, meeting yours briefly before he immediately looked away, cheeks turning pink.

but then, without really thinking, he scooted closer. and closer. and closer— until his forehead bumped gently against your thigh.

he froze.

“…oh,” he squeaked. “i— sorry—” you ran your fingers through his messy hair, brushing it away from his face. “fu, it’s okay. you can relax.”

his whole body shivered. not in fear — but in the kind of relief that felt foreign to him. he cautiously rested his head against your thigh, letting out the smallest exhale, like he’d been holding his breath for years.

“it’s warm…” he mumbled, barely audible.

you kept playing with his hair, soft and steady. fu melted slowly into you like butter warming on a pan — shoulders dropping, breath evening out, lashes fluttering every time your fingers traced along his scalp.

you started talking about your day — random little things, tiny stories, silly thoughts. fu listened with a quiet kind of devotion, nodding gently, humming in agreement, eyes half-lidded from the comfort.

but every now and then… you’d catch him glancing at your thigh.

just tiny, quick, guilty little glances.

then he’d stare at the ceiling. then your face. then— back to your thigh.

you smiled quietly. “fu… what’s on your mind?”

he flinched so hard he nearly jumped off the bed. “n-nothing!! it’s nothing! i wasn’t— i didn’t—”

you raised your brow.

he froze.

“…okay it was something,” he admitted in a tiny voice, hiding half his face behind his hands. “but it’s embarrassing…”

“try me.” he curled in a little more, like a flustered shrimp, voice trembling through the smallest confession:

“i… um… wanted to… m-maybe…” he swallowed hard. “…bite you. a little.”

you blinked. he hid his face again. “i’m sorry…”

“you can,” you said gently. “if you want to.”

his whole body tensed, then relaxed, then tensed again — like his brain couldn’t decide if this was terrifying or the best moment of his life.

slowly, carefully, he lifted his head from your thigh and leaned in closer. his breath trembled as it brushed your skin.

and then— very softly, like something fragile—

he bit your thigh.

just a tiny pressure. barely anything. but full of how nervous and careful he always was with you.

the second he pulled back, his eyes went huge.

“i— i— i’m SO SORRY—!!” he yelped, sitting up straight, hands waving frantically. “i didn’t hurt you, right? i swear i didn’t mean it like— well i DID mean it— but i didn’t mean it to be bad— i—”

you cupped his cheek gently, smiling. “fu. i liked it.”

he froze like someone unplugged him. then collapsed forward, face burying into your thigh again — hiding in pure embarrassment.

“i did it because you’re warm…” he mumbled. “…and because i like being close to you… and because… um… it felt right. i’m sorry if that’s weird.”

“it’s not weird,” you whispered, stroking his hair again. “it’s cute.”

fu let out a tiny squeak — somewhere between a sigh and a whimper — and nuzzled himself closer against your leg, holding your thigh lightly with both hands like it was his anchor.

“o-okay… but um…” he peeked up at you with wide, soft eyes. “…you have to warn me if i ever do it too much. i don’t always think when i feel safe…”

you laughed, warm and gentle, as he practically melted into your lap again.

“don’t worry, fu. i’ll let you know.”

he settled, breathing slow and steady, clinging onto you like the safest place he’d ever found — cheeks still pink, but a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“okay… i trust you…” he whispered. “…so much.”

and he fell asleep like that — hugging your thigh, soft, warm, and completely smitten.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ zodyl typhon

zodyl wasn’t the type to show anger. not loudly, not outwardly.

his rage was the quiet kind — the kind that tightened his jaw, sharpened his stare, made the air feel colder around him. and tonight, he walked into his quarters with that exact storm simmering beneath his skin.

bad meeting. idiotic vandals. plans falling out of line.

he hated when things slipped from his control.

but he hated the feeling in his chest even more — that silent, hollow ache that only came when everything was too much.

when he opened the door, he found you already stretched out on his bed, resting on your side. you looked up instantly, sensing the tension that clung to him.

“zodyl?” you whispered softly.

he didn’t answer. he just shut the door behind him and crossed the room with slow, deliberate steps. his expression was unreadable — a blank mask, cold and composed… but the flicker in his eyes gave him away.

he needed you. not as a leader. not as a fighter. just… you.

you reached out a hand, inviting him closer without words.

zodyl exhaled quietly — the first sign of his guard slipping — and sat beside you on the bed. he didn’t speak, didn’t explain, didn’t ask. he simply leaned down, placing one hand beside your hip as his forehead came to rest against your thigh.

the cold man, the calculating leader… burying himself in your warmth.

you brushed your fingers through his hair, slow and careful.

his eyes fluttered shut. “rough day?” you whispered. “…yes.” the word was low, almost gravelly. “i don’t want to talk about it.”

“okay,” you murmured. “you don’t have to.”

that’s why he came to you. no pressure. no demands. just peace.

your touch kept moving through his hair, smoothing the tension out of him piece by piece. his breathing steadied. his shoulders lowered. his hand slid lightly onto your thigh, holding you there — grounding himself.

and then… without lifting his head, without warning—

he bit your thigh.

slow, firm, controlled — not painful, but undeniably deliberate.

your breath caught softly. “zodyl—”

he didn’t apologize. he didn’t look up. he didn’t even flinch.

his lips brushed over the spot afterward, an almost-kiss, before he spoke against your skin in a low, steady voice:

“i needed to feel something warm.”

another small bite — gentler this time, almost like he was testing the edge of affection. “i needed…” he paused, breath fanning against your skin, “you.”

your cheeks warmed, but your fingers kept combing through his hair, soothing him wordlessly.

zodyl shifted slightly, tracing his thumb along your thigh where his teeth had touched. he wasn’t a man of emotion, but right now, the way he held you gave him away completely.

you grounded him. you calmed him. you brought him back from the cold.

after a quiet moment, he finally lifted his head enough to look at you — eyes sharp, tired, and softened only for you.

“don’t ask me why,” he murmured. “i won’t have an answer.” you smiled faintly. “you don’t need one.”

zodyl leaned back down, resting against your thigh again — this time without anger in his body, only a quiet need for closeness he’d never admit out loud.

“…thank you,” he whispered into your skin, so soft you almost missed it.

and he stayed there, finding comfort the only way he knew how — wrapped in your warmth, teeth marks on your thigh, heart steadying in your presence.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ jabber wonger

jabber didn’t walk into the room — he burst in, like he always did, grinning wide like he was made of static and adrenaline.

“oiiiii, girl,” he drawled, voice already too loud, too excited, “you alive in here or do i gotta kick the door again?”

you were lying across your bed, flipping through a book, perfectly peaceful. that lasted about two seconds.

jabber saw you. peaceful. tilted his head like a deranged bird.

and then—

“mmh—” he dropped onto the mattress beside you like a boulder, sprawling across your legs with zero warning. “there you are.”

you sighed. “jabber— you’re heavy—”

“i KNOW!” he giggled, sounding thrilled. “that’s the point!” before you could shove him off, he rolled onto his stomach, chin propped on your thigh like it was a pillow sent from the heavens directly to him.

his grin slowly widened.

“y’know…” he hummed, poking your thigh with a gloved finger, “you shouldn’t just leave these little thighs out in the open like this. i get ideas.”

“jabber. behave.”

“oh i don’t DO that,” he laughed.

and he didn’t. not even for a second.

he dragged his fingertip down your thigh, eyes glinting with that sick excitement he lived on.

“mm, soft,” he murmured, practically purring. “don’t look at me like that. you KNOW what this does.” you stared flatly. “jabber, don’t—”

too late.

he lunged.

his hands gripped your hips like he had to anchor himself, and he sank his teeth into your thigh with all the enthusiasm of a kid biting cotton candy for the first time.

“jabber!!” you yelped, grabbing his shoulder.

he just laughed against your skin, the sound unhinged and way too pleased, lifting his head only to press another bite a little closer to your inner thigh—still gentle enough not to hurt, but definitely enough to make your breath skip.

“hahaha— oh you should SEE your face,” he cackled, licking his teeth like a psycho. “c’mon, girl, you KNOW i like when you get all twitchy like that.” you smacked his arm. “you can’t just BITE ME because you feel like it!”

“i can and i DID,” jabber said proudly. he leaned back in, nosing along your thigh, grin stretching ear to ear.

“you smell good when you’re mad,” he whispered, voice dipping into something husky and chaotic. “makes me wanna make you madder.”

“jabber—”

“mhm?”

“stop.”

he paused. blinked. then grinned wider.

“no.”

and he sank his teeth in again, slower this time, purposely teasing, holding your thigh steady with both hands like you’d run away if he let go.

“jabberrrr—!”

“mm-hmm?” he hummed against your skin, kissing the spot he just bit like he was rewarding himself.

he looked up at you, eyes wild, hair messy, grin sharp. “girl,” he said, voice low but buzzing with excitement, “you have NO idea how crazy you make me.”

another kiss. another bite. another laugh.

“and i’m not stoppin’ anytime soon.”

「©valentinesxoxo˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ 」

[tinibun]

open channel

characters. enjin. tamsy. rudo. zanka. gris. follo. tomme. semiu. cleaner!reader

desc. open channel through the chokers means no privacy, no muting, and no escape from follo and the microwave.

a / n. i almost made this a group chat fic, then remembered they have chokers. so unfortunately this is canon now. enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing and laughing at this monstrosity ♡. ( still waiting on flipping tumblr to review my tamsy fic... ).

wc. 295

static clicks on.

beep.

“…why did something just beep,” enjin asks.

silence.

then—

beep.

“…that’s a microwave,” gris says calmly.

“why do i hear a microwave,” enjin says. “who is using a microwave during comms.”

“…i am,” follo admits.

“why,” enjin asks.

“…my food was cold.”

beep.

“it just finished,” tamsy notes mildly. “so we’re good.”

the microwave door opens.

then closes.

beep.

“…why is it going again,” rudo asks.

“…still cold.”

“how,” rudo says. “it was just in there.”

“…not evenly.”

beep.

“are you standing there watching it,” tomme asks, alarmed.

“…yes.”

the microwave hums louder.

“…that hum is aggressive,” you say quietly.

“why is it humming like that,” semiu asks.

“…i changed the power level.”

“why would you do that,” enjin snaps.

“…experiment.”

the microwave stops.

silence.

everyone exhales.

then—

beep beep beep.

“oh my god,” rudo says. “it’s still going.”

“…it does that,” follo says. “when you don’t open it fast enough.”

the beeping continues.

“open it,” enjin says.

“…i’m trying.”

the beeping gets faster.

“why is it panicking,” you ask, laughing.

the door opens.

silence.

“…okay,” tamsy says. “we survived.”

a pause.

“…it’s still cold,” follo says.

no one speaks.

“…don’t,” enjin says quietly.

the door closes.

the microwave starts again.

everyone loses it at once.

"WHY—”

“STOP—”

“TURN IT OFF—”

“just eat it—”

“i can’t,” follo whines. “it’s uneven.”

another beep.

someone groans audibly.

zanka exhales into the mic. slow. approving.

enjin goes very still. “…of course.”

the microwave stops.

the door opens.

“…okay,” follo says. “i think it’s done.”

“eat it somewhere else,” rudo says immediately.

“…i’m walking away.”

footsteps. distance.

silence.

everyone waits.

then—

“…it’s too hot now,” follo says, apologetically.

enjin closes his eyes. “i’m ending the channel.”

static crackles.

“…wait—”

“no,” enjin says.

the channel cuts.

creds ― Ი𐑼

headers ⋮ @/uzmacchiato

photos ⋮ pinterest

©tinibun 2025 ― please dont repost, steal, translate, or place my works into ai ♡

[acexsmhking]

Men are so fucking stupid. Toby wouldn’t treat me like this. He’d get straight to the point and kill me

[noriette]

when you prank them with the ‘she’s busy’ message

featuring: katsuki, izuku, shoto, eijiro, denki, hitoshi, neito, dabi (toya)

this was kinda silly to make

[timotheechalametsrealgf]

BNHA BOYS REACTING TO YOU PUTING THEM ON YOUR HEAR ME OUT CAKE

feat: K. Bakugou , S. Todoroki , I. Midoriya, N.Monoma , S. Hitoshi

author note!: I haven’t seen this idea being done before so here is my take!

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

Katsuki spends at least 30 minutes on tiktok before going to sleep, so he definitely knows what a “hear me out cake” is.

Initially he laughed when he saw you holding a mini version of a Monoma on a stick “Of course only they would find him attractive” he rolled his eyes as you were explaining your thoughts to a disgusted Mina.

After the pinknets turn, you placed another figure down on the cake. This time it was one of UA top students, Katsuki Bakugou!

At that moment he felt betrayed, bamboozled and might i say offended.

“Why would i be here, i am conveniently attractive!” he shouted at himself. Did you really just assume that him being good looking is a quirky and unique idea!

He immediately called you. The minute you answered, he didn’t even give you time to question the sudden phone call, as he demanded you to take down the video. He then proceeded to yell at you for the next 20 minutes about how “selfish you were for thinking that only you found him attractive, or how he was not a “hear me out”. He then took another 10 minutes explaining how his good looks were a FACT and trying to prove his point by telling you than he benches twice your weight and so on.

At the end of the night you were forced if not HARASSED to take down the tiktok.

SHOTO TODOROKI

Shoto has no idea what a “hear me out cake” is. I doubt he would even have TikTok, so naturally he only found out about the video through Izuku’s fyp. So while the poor boy was scrolling through the app and watching the TikTok you made with Momo, Shoto was watching as well through his friends shoulder. At first he was much disinterested as he couldn’t quite understand why miniatures of his classmates were being placed on a cake by you and Momo.

His interest only piqued when you presented a mini version of him. “what does that mean?” he asked Midoriya who jumped not expected from his friend to have been watching this whole time. The shorter boy tried to explain the concept of “hear me out” but it was to no vail.

Todoroki just assumed that you thought he was ugly. So for the rest of the day he tried to move on, ignoring the sad feeling that shadowed him. His whole life people would praise him for his looks, but the one person whose opinion actually mattered to him…thought he was ugly?

Fortunately Deku was quick with explaining to you the whole situation and you didn’t waist time to confront Shoto.

His sad feelings had automatically vanished when you enlightened him that he wasn’t actually considered a “hear me out” since most people were akin to his looks, you just wanted to point out a different perspective of why you thought of him as attractive, not just because of his facial features.

IZUKU MIDORIYA

Deku was mindlessly scrolling through TikTok when he fell upon a video of you and Ochaco doing the viral “hear me out cake”trend.

The boy was watching the video with much interest, him adding on to your explanations as well. For example when you added Tigress from Kung Fu Panda and you were quick to justify that she had an attractive aura,he also pointed out on her assertiveness.

Non the less, it was safe to say that when his name fell out of your mouth as a picture of him appeared on your hand he was a blushing mess.

Sure he was aware that his shy personality could be an ick for some people, but hearing from you that he was really underrated and that you found him very cute made him malfunction.

For the next few days he couldn’t look at you without blushing. He couldn’t even speak to you without messing up a word or two, but he was more than glad to find out that you were inspired by him. That’s why be wanted to be a hero! To motivate others to try their best, even when the odds are against them.

NEITO MONOMA

Ok let’s be real, Monoma definitely enjoys brain rot and he spends a lot of time on the app. He is always up to date with trends and new slang, so he is definitely aware of what a “hear me out cake is”.

Now, Neito also believes that out of all UA students, he definitely is one of the most attractive, if not THE most!

So rest assured that when he saw you pulling out that miniature version of him and heard you say “im suprised i haven’t seen anyone else point out his looks, he is sooo pretty” he quickly fled to the comments.

He was spamming insults like crazy. Mostly attacking your spacial awareness. “labeling me as a hear me out is crazy”, “get a reality check”, “how could you do this” What offended him more was the audacity to put him on the same cake as Bakugou Katsuki.

To him, it was like you had broken an unspoken rule. So he did what any sane person would do. He made his own version of a “hear me out cake” where he pulled out a bunch of pictures of you,only you.

Kendo who thought they were filming a normal tiktok covered her mouth in astonishment not even bothering to present her picks. “My pick is Y/n because im probably the only person who likes them” he began “another unique pick of mine is Y/n, who only I find attractive” “ and here we have someone new, someone fresh: y/n ladys and gentlemen!, who unfortunately only i recognize the beauty of”

HITOSHI SHINSO

Shinso isn’t really chronically online but i’m sure he has passed by the “hear me out cake” trend. So when he saw you pulling him out of your pocket he quickly understood what you were referring to.

Surprisingly, he was glad to see a person thinking of his quirk as interesting and full of potential. He smiled softly when you said “i could only dream of having a quirk as strong as his”.

It also didn’t go unnoticed by him the way you talked about his looks. How you referred to his eye bags as attractive and his purple hair as astonishingly beautiful. He even allowed himself to chuckle when you noted on his liking of cats, even calling him a “cat dad”.

After the video ended with a few more additions in the cake he found himself searching for your socials and pressing that “message” button.

With a bit of hesitation he texted you something along the lines of “So you like my hair huh?” but it only took him a minute to regret his decision, cringing with himself. He tried to delete the message but you were already typing back.

[kinokkotsu]

Neito Monoma listened closely to the silence, each second dreadful as it goes on. He didn’t say anything. He only paid attention to the sobs you let out as you gasped for air. You mumbled out an inaudible word through the line.

“Haha..what’s with the sound? Are you crying?” He asked despite already knowing the answer.

You gasped again. “..loser, I didn’t call you to just bluntly make fun of me.”

He couldn’t resist the urge to tease you. In fact he wanted to spew words that were harsher than what he usually said. He wanted to make you cry harder and make you reflect on the truth. The truth being that he was a better option than your asshole boyfriend. He was just simply better in all aspects and this went without saying. Fantastic quirk, sharp tongue, whimsical and just knew how to handle you—wasn’t he just better?

He hummed. “Then what’s the point of calling me? You’re only embarrassing yourself. Do you know how pathetic you sound right now?”

He kept his voice cool and clear. The kind of tone that just hit when the lights are dark and the night is slipping into dawn. It sounded almost intimate.

“Pathetic?” A dry laugh escaped your lips and Neito felt goosebumps on his arms. “Am I at fault for seeking consult? Neito, he left me for his fuckass band that no one gives a shit about. He’s rarely home and he has the audacity to blame it on my patrol shifts. Fuck, it’s like the problem is me being a hero. At least I’m doing something efficient!”

He intently listened to your complaints, smiling to himself. “Right..such a supportive girlfriend he has.”

“For fuck sakes, why are you such a bastard!?”

Your voice broke and you wept into the sheets again. Cries seeped through the speakers and the blonde almost felt guilty for enjoying this. Had all the hero trainings finally made him lose his mind? He rolled to his side and blankly stared at the dark phone screen, tuning into your gasps and whispering. You sounded insane. He loved it. It just made him pissed that he wasn’t the reason you were crying about.

“[Name],” He called out, trying to snap you out of your episodes. “Should I come over?”

He was whispering. His lips were too close to the phone. You swore you could even feel the soft breathing against the speakers. He was crossing a line and he didn’t seem to be aware of the consequences of this.

But when your weeps came to an abrupt end, that was when he knew that he was truly doomed.

abandoned this account for like a year. My badd 😛 mha s8 has reunited all the burnt out fans so here I come to dine on here

REPOSTS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED

[seizuki]

Shigaraki would be that one online friend you have, and one day, he just never responds anymore. (He's gone)

[seizuki]

And you'll never know that he's gone. You probably assume that he's still out there and has moved on from the game. (Back then, you two became friends cause L.O.L)

[seizuki]

Shigaraki would be that one online friend you have, and one day, he just never responds anymore. (He's gone)

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

hello laura!! I was wondering if I could request Leo, Langis, Finral, and Marx and what kind of hugs you think they would give? (this definitely isn't because I need comfort nope)

Hiya Kit!

Of course! These four boys don't get enough love and adoration anyhow~ (And I hope that you're doing better 🥺)

Pairings: Leo x gn!reader, Langris x gn!reader , Finral x gn!reader, and Marx x gn!reader

Fic type: Headcanons

Genre: Fluff

Leopold Vermillion

Leo’s hugs are energetic, and tight. He’d squeeze like he wouldn’t have seen you in days, despite having seen you only a few hours ago.

And they’d be warm. Even in the middle of winter, you’d feel like it was a bright summer day as he holds you in his arms. Which he always does, for the hugs, no matter how tight, firm and energetic they might be, they’re never short-lived. Even if he was in a rush, it wouldn’t be ‘enough in a rush’ to not give you a lingering embrace.

Perhaps the rushed hugs would even be the tightest, because he tries to compensate for the time with the intensity. He just wants you to know that he appreciates you.

But when you’re allowed to just be, and enjoy each other’s company, he’ll curl around you. His arms will pull you close and press your head against his chest as he buries his nose into your hair. And he’ll stay there, even when he starts heating up. Because your presence is far too sweet for him. He does let go eventually, but that’s only when it starts becoming far too hot to bear, you both beginning to sweat.

Once that point is reached, he’ll squeeze you and press a kiss onto your forehead before finally letting go. But he assures you that it’s only because of warmth. And it is. Which is assured by his wish to still linger close to you with a bright smile on his face.

Langris Vaude

In public he doesn’t give hugs, or… a lot of PDA in general. What he does agree to do, is link your arm to his, walking side by side. Perhaps even hand holding, which is a less formal version of holding him by the arm.

It’s the “respectable” thing to do. To hold your head high and look as mighty as you can. That was what nobles were supposed to do, and not show affection towards your partner. No, private moments such as that were supposed to be kept just as that, private.

But. Once you’re home, in the sanctity of your own room, all the years of living a loveless life would come to show. After he has finally gotten to the point where he dares to ask for your affection, he can’t get enough of it. He’ll drink it up like his life dependent on it.

Perhaps it does. He doesn’t know, and doesn’t care to find out, because whenever he’s in your embrace, it feels like every even remotely kind thing done to him coming back to him, all at once. And he’ll hold onto you with such passion, craving, even need.

His arms will wrap around you so tightly, but never hurting. How could he? How could he hurt you, the one who loves and respects him as who he is; a person.

He’ll cling onto you, and press his head against your chest. Or your head against his. Some days it might be both. He wants to hear your heart beating for him, and he wants you to hear his heart beating for you.

Finral Roulacase

Finral likes to flirt with you, even years after you started dating. After all, it never hurts to keep it fresh. He’ll hold your hand, perhaps even wrap his arm around your shoulders, though that’s not his preferred style. Even if he does like to hold you. Hug you. Keep you close.

He would give you quick, passing hugs on the go, whenever he’s not able to stay with you for long. But those brief embraces would always be accompanied by a longing, smiling gaze that would speak of his adoration for you.

A gentle touch and a warm smile, if he’s not able to hold you even as much as a passing embrace.

His hugs, in private, would include the entire spectrum from light to tight. He’d hold you in his embrace, running his fingers through your hair, but also, when the situation calls for it, he’d hug you so tight that you would never fear slipping from him.

He would whisper sweet nothing into your ear, and assure you that he’d always be there for you. Because you’re the best thing that ever happened to him.

Marx Francois

Marx… He doesn’t get a lot of time to spend with you, and unfortunately falls into the category of “preferably no PDA”. So, his appreciation is in the faint, apologizing smiles when he has to work overtime. Which, quite frankly, you didn’t initially realize was “overtime”, given how often he stays in his office.

And if you’re asleep whenever he comes home, he doesn’t want to wake you. But he would wrap his arm around you as he lays next to you. Gently and carefully, not to disturb you.

But when he can take the time, he’s not letting go. You’ll be curled on the sofa, or an armchair, with drinks and snacks nearby, and he’ll just hold you.

He’ll run his fingers through your hair, slowly, and carefully, as if you’d break. He’d talk about everything and nothing, or then say nothing at all. It depends on the day, and your mood.

His firm embraces happen every now and then, but come in second to his caressing, lingering ones. Because those hold the most emotion, coming from him. It is, as if, he’s holding onto the most precious thing in all of Clover.

Because… he is.

[kaidas-daydreams]

HOW THE BLACK CLOVER BOYS WOULD KISS YOU

characters included: yami sukehiro, finral roulacase, william vangeance, langris vaude, nozel silva, fuegoleon vermillion

female reader

kaida'a note: a burst of inspiration came to me when i was staring a lil too long at william's lips lol

💭 YAMI - he'll kabedon you aganist the wall, his other arm will wrap around your waist with a firm grip. he'll tilt your head slightly up and kiss you agressively and he'll pull you closer to him while giving your bottom lip a slight tug.

💭 FINRAL - he's always beat red before coming in for a kiss. he puts a strand of lose hair behind your ear before cupping one of your cheeks and gently pulling you in for a short but sweet kiss.

💭 WILLIAM - he's super shy about kissing you but when he gets the courage he'll cup your face and kiss you lightly and slowly. one of his hands will wonder into your hair, playing with small strands of your hair.

💭 LANGRIS - he's always nervous before kissing you but he keeps himself cool and collected. he'll grab your hand and pull you in for a kiss, his kisses are rough and almost as if you're kissing a wall but he's learning.

💭 NOZEL - he places a hand behind the back of your head and pull you in for a rough kiss. he tightly wraps his hand within your hair, slightly tugging on it.

💭 FUEGOLEON - he brushes your hair away from your face and grabs you by the waist to have you closer to him, he tilts your head up and kisses you softly once he pulls away he continues to give you tiny pecks.

[seizuki]

HOW COME THERE ARE NOT JESTER GARANDROS X READER?!

[bowandcurtsey]

Hi! I rlly luv your writing your writing is very good .

Is your request open? Can i ask for patry (or partoli) has feeling for licht's daughter ( can i ask for yuno and langris crush on william's sister too hehe)

Ahhh the classic crushing on your boss' daughter / sister huh. HAHA (◕ᴗ◕✿) Thank you for loving my writing and sorry that you had to wait so long for your request!!

Also this would be a short one because I've written about how these boys would treat their crush before! Do read them HERE for Patry and Yuno! o(〃＾▽＾〃)o I'll make Langris one a little longer!

Patry | Yuno | Langris x f! reader

Patry

Initially Patry thought that it was just him being concerned towards Licht's own flesh and blood, seeing that he felt that he owed that man too much.

He constantly wanted to protect her, wanted the best for her and wanted to see her happy.

Until... Fana pointed it out. Why do you get special treatment for everything? Only did Patry realise it was true; he doesn't treat other members of the elf this way.

Initially he felt sinful. To fall for the great Licht's daughter. The man whom he wronged, he wasn't able to face Licht about almost destroying the human race, let alone wanting to date his daughter.. But he realised that the more he tried to suppress his feelings, the more he fell in love with you.

He was constantly teased by Rhya. (that man was relentless.) But after much encouragement from Fana and Vetto, AND a lot of time later, he got over his guilt and confessed to you.

Yuno Grinberryall

Yuno has a lot of respect for William, and naturally he would respect his sister too. Especially such a lovely and nice lady like you.

Initially it was just a mutual respect and admiration, but after awhile, he realised that you were constantly running through his mind all day. When he was not immersed in training, images of you would flash in his mind.

At first, he shook it off, thinking that he shouldn't be thinking about Wiliam's sister. In the first place, his goal was to be the wizard king, so he knew he didn't have time for any romance, much less with his admired William Vangeance's sister!

The entire thought was absurd to him. He was more frustrated whenever he thought about it and went really crazy during training times, even Bel was a little scared.

He kept to himself about this for a long, long time. He didn't know who to tell to, nor did he think that he could ever be a match for you.

Something probably happened before either of you would spit out your feelings for each other. Also, you probably have to press him for an answer before he would confess.

Langris Vaude

Dude doesn't care who's sister it was actually. But he'll die before he'd admit it to anyone. But this boy is hella soft to his favourite girl.

Of course he didn't even realise he caught feelings for you until he was already too invested.

He can be a little confusing initially, teasing you more often than the rest, but always giving you special privileges.

You're the only one that can annoy him a little more than the others without getting any snarky comments. At the most, maybe a little "tch" from him.

He's a little more protective towards you too. If anyone dared to bully you, they'll be in for it. They'll be punished by him personally.

But once he realises he does have some kinda feelings for you and then realising that you are his Captain's sister, he starts acting weirdly around William too.

William picked up his awkwardness, but he just didn't know what it was about, until the rumours started to spread to his ears.

Langris didn't care about anyone's teasing and would just tell them to 'shut up', but when William asked him about it, his entire face went beet red.

Boy would probably never confess under normal circumstances. If you asked him directly, he'd probably reply some thing like "can I not?" if he was already very sure of his feelings at that point.

When he was sure of your feelings, he would ask William before asking you out. Afterall, Langris respects William very much, even though he doesn't show it often.

-end-

[arcanestage]

Their s/o accidentally falls asleep on someone else’s shoulder while they’re around

Magna / Finral / Yami / Langris

Fem!reader

A/N: requested by @winterxisxcomingx MWAH ily bestie 😚 hope u dont mind me adding in langris, my langris brainrot has been wild lately + i wrote it for my own indulgence ahaisbwja

— ✦ Magna

Occasionally, Vanessa would take home bottles of liquor either as prizes she won in a prior drinking battle or from barkeepers that may have sales talked her into purchasing. Nevertheless she would always call for a small gathering with the members of the squad.

You were a little too excited for this month’s mini gathering so much so that you started drinking without the others.

“Someone’s eager,” Vanessa teased as she plopped down beside you. She poured herself a generous amount of liquor then clunk her glass with yours.

Keep reading

[delirious-donnaarchived]

NSFW Alphabet Headcanons [Langris Vaude]

an: lately I have become a little obsessed with Langris Vaude, a slow process considering how much I used to detest him, but here we are. Now I thirst for the haughty man. I know I am not alone in my opinions, so this is for me and others that yearn for the spatial mage.

p.s. apologies for how long this turned out, I simply could not control myself! ^^

pairing: Langris Vaude x female reader

warnings: too many to mention, nothing is super kinky but continue with ease

Masterlist

A - Aftercare

It took Langris a hot minute to work out what this actually meant. Not accustomed to the softer moments in life, he had frowned in confusion as you forced him to lay back and relax.

What was the issue?

He had more than ensured your pleasure, and he too had found his release, why would he linger on the bed when there were other things to be done?

Slowly, he found that the quiet moments after what had transpired were sweeter than candy. Lost within the sensation of your fingers brushing into his chestnut hair, the rhythmical rise and fall of your chest and the melodic tunes you would hum.

"This is aftercare then?" he asked in a timid voice so unlike his own.

"Mmm, yeah. Nice isn't it?"

He was silent for the longest moment before rolling with you to reverse your positions.

"Let me return the favour, my love," he cooes.

Langris kneads at your tense shoulders, letting his hands skim down your bare skin in utter reverence as he kisses the top of your head. He wouldn't be skipping this ever again.

B - Body Part

You'd have to fight him - playfully - to discover his answer, but if truth be told, he likes his chest.

He knows that his strength is rather unassuming to most, often being dismissed for possessing only raw magical strength and not the physical type that Asta is famed for. Yet, under his magic knight's uniform lies defined muscles and corded strength, always ready at a moment's notice.

Langris has no wish to become as bulky as Asta, he finds it rather crass as to how thick the grey-haired boy's torso has become of late, but he will continue to train to maintain the lithe definition he does have.

Other than the physical appearance of his chest, there is another, far softer reason as to why he favours this part of his body. Within said chest beats a heart that had never known love, his family might have favoured him over Finral but he was a show pony, not a loved child.

Langris didn't know what it felt to be loved or to love until he met you. It was a turbulent journey, and it was not without some tears being shed. The armour around his heart crumbled into a rusty mess when he finally realised that to love, he has to allow himself to be vulnerable from time to time.

It was worth it, you were worth it and he would be damned if he would give it up after the battle he had fought to find it.

Yes, Langris likes his chest and the heart that resides within.

As for you, it's almost an impossible decision. You are everything he ever wanted but didn't know he needed. Langris may not be the most verbal with his affection, but if pushed he'd pick your hands.

He likes how they slip into his own when you know no one else is around, fingers interlocking and a thumb stroking against his palm. He adores that your hands seek him out in the night, wrapping around his bicep as you curl into him.

Your hands express your love and affection, the softness of your touch on his skin enough to chip away the icy mask that he wears to protect himself.

C - Cum

Langris was a flustered mess the very first time you made him cum. His face was so pretty and pink as he fought to keep his gaze away from your own, his breathing rapid and his hands clenched into the white sheets beneath him.

A simple handjob and he had spurted his sticky seed in record time as if he were some mere horny teenager. You knew he was embarrassed, could sense it with how he acted now and it tugged your heart. He didn't realise how empowering it felt to be able to bring his release so easily.

Langris was startled when you dipped a finger in his creamy essence, treating it as if it were paint and his skin the canvas. You swept it over the dips of the prominent 'v' that carved out his hips and pelvis, fingerpainting to your heart's content.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he asked on a hissed breath.

Finally, you met his crystalline eyes. Smiling sweetly you placed your messy fingers into your mouth and made a show of sucking them clean. It was arousing to watch the colours deepen, the way his cock jerked and hardened once more.

"Tasting you," you admit.

Langris was far from done with you after that display and remark.

He prefers to paint your insides than decorating your body but he has been known to pull out for you to swallow his load, but only if you ask very sweetly.

His cum tastes bitter but not unpleasant, almost like extremely rich dark chocolate. As for volume, well, there is enough to make several paintings if you wish.

In return, Langris enjoyed eating you out far more than he had anticipated. The sometimes haughty noble is not immune to becoming pussy drunk, lapping at your slick centre until his mouth and chin are shiny with your essence.

His eyes glazed and unfocused when you finally managed to pull him by the hair away from your trembling cunt. The simple act of watching him licking at his lips is enough to make you keen for him. Langris wastes not a drop of what you spill, he has never tasted something so potent and intoxicating.

D - Dirty Secret

Langris will deny it to the ends of the earth, but he enjoys wearing your panties.

Shocked?

I'm not surprised, no one was more shocked than Langris himself.

He didn't pull them on through any overwhelming urge that came to his mind, it was the result of a lost bet that forced the silky shorts to adorn his beautiful hips.

Langris was confident that he would win the bet and that he would never have the indignity of wearing a female's underwear, but he had been wrong.

He was a flustered mess as he left for the day, only the two of you in the knowledge of what lay beneath his pants. You tried to suppress the giggles, knowing that he would likely throw a hissy fit if he thought you were mocking him, but he was too dang cute.

You had to admit that he looked kinda hot in your silkiest pair of black shorts. You had chosen these especially as you did not think he would take well to wearing a barely concealing thong. His bits would never remain inside!

His lightly tanned skin was accentuated by the midnight black silk, the lace trim around the legs gave an inviting allure and you almost crawled to him by the door. Desperate to unbuckle his belt and pull any the layers to find the smooth material so you could bury your face in it, but you didn't.

Langris saw the look in your eye, he remembered it all day long and slowly he started to enjoy the feel of something so decadent against his crotch. He liked it far more than he anticipated.

He won't tell you this, and you will never tell him that you cheated in your bet... how naughty!

E - Experienced

You had thought Langris to be a virgin when you got together, but it turns out that he had lost his innocence in one of the very few times he had gotten drunk. He isn't proud of it, in fact, for a long time he tried to pretend it had not happened at all. Langris didn't remember what the girl looked like, let alone her name and it prickled him.

Certainly, you had no experience to speak of, and the one drunken time for Langris didn't amount to anything. That meant that you were to experience a lot of new things together.

Langris was certainly a fast learner. Within no time at all, it felt like he had a wealth of experience under his belt and you were still floundering like a shy little flower. He took your meek embarrassment in his stride, secretly enjoying how bashful you became when he whispered naughty suggestions in your ear.

"Shall I bend you over my desk, my love? I have a free hour or two. We could see how many times I can make you cum on my fingers before you are whimpering for me to fill you up properly."

Where had your inexperienced lover gone? That boy was dead and buried. The man that replaced him was confident in his ability and assured of his technique within the blink of an eye.

Langris Vaude was certainly a prodigy in many disciplines.

F - Favourite Position

Call him old-fashioned, but what is wrong with missionary?

Langris likes that he can kiss you deeply whilst he plunders your cunt, growling as you bite at his lower lip and he ruts himself harshly in reply.

He can brace his weight on one wrist or forearm as the other pinches lazily at your stiffened nipples, lowering his mouth to suckle the peak until you are yanking on his hair.

In this position, he can feel your thighs winding around his hips and the bucking over your body meeting him stroke for stroke. You feed him that extra friction that is enough to make him want to leave pretty marks on your neck - his mark.

Langris knows when your release is close, your hands sliding to his back where your nails dig into his flesh hard enough to leave thin red streaks. That hint of pain is blissful, knowing that you are losing the battle against your animalistic instincts and he isn't far behind.

He'll shift back on the bed, moving to his knees as he drags you closer to him. Pressing your thighs against his shoulders as his cock reaches new depths and drags deliciously against your g-spot with every precise swing of his hips.

Yeah, this is his favourite position, nothing else comes quite as close as this does.

G - Goofy

I'm sorry, this is Langris Vaude we are talking about. He barely knows what the word goofy means. If you wanted this in a partner then you were with the wrong brother.

He'll listen to your pathetic attempts at jokes, smiling kindly but his eyes are weary. The man loves you more than anything in this world, but he is never going to be the type to play practical jokes or burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter. It's just not in his nature.

Having said that, he does like to tease. He isn't above tickling you until you are crying for mercy, of which, he has very little. Langris will giddily straddle your waist to hold you down and tickle your ribs, neck, stomach and every other part he can reach until you are sobbing with giggling tears.

This kind of goofy, he can get behind, but it will always be behind closed doors. He doesn't wish for others to see that he possesses this side of him.

H - Hair

Tousled golden brown hair adorns his head, soft and gently curling around the edges of his face. Langris keeps his hair well-trimmed, believing it to be unbecoming of a young man to let it get too long. His shampoo smells faintly of jasmine, you'd think it would be a little feminine but on Langris, it really compliments him - balancing out the masculine elements of his appearance and personality.

Light smatterings of hair grace his pectorals, he used to shave it off until you insisted he stop. You love running your dainty fingers through the hair, your nails grazing his nipples quite on purpose as you do. He'll growl as a warning, but whether you choose to heed the warning, is entirely dependent on your mood.

His happy trail starts not far above where his sleeping pants would rest, the hair is a little denser here and especially as it continues down to join the short curls that nestle around the base of his dick.

The carpet surely matches the drapes, the colour is exactly the same no matter which part of his body you admire with your lustful gaze. Langris keeps his private area short and well maintained, but your nose still nestles against the coarse hair when you've managed to work his cock fully down your throat.

I - Intimacy

It took some time for intimacy to be the norm in your relationship, Langris simply did not know how to offer it, having received none himself.

Much like when he discovered what aftercare meant, he slowly allowed himself to ease into the sensation of letting someone close to his heart.

The whole thing came with soul-soaring highs and achingly awful lows.

Langris had not anticipated that loving someone intimately would bring with it such terrible fears. Thoughts of losing you in some way, of being hurt or falling out of love with him haunted his dreams more than he would care to admit.

Intimacy was a double-edged sword, capable of bringing ecstasy and at the same time being able to bring him to his knees in agony. Despite this, he wouldn't give it up for anything in the world, he only wished he had found you sooner. Perhaps your good influence on him would have meant mending of relationships far sooner than had transpired.

The majority of your shared intimacy is still hidden behind closed doors but on occasion, and when Langris is feeling especially proud of you, he will openly kiss your temple. He might even indulge in trailing his fingers with yours for a moment, much to the bewilderment of his squadmates.

Your relationship is no secret, but his softer side certainly is.

J - Jerk Off

This happens very rarely. There have been only a handful of times when he has been parted from you long enough to warrant him fisting his straining cock.

If he were to find himself on such a mission where you had not seen each other in days, then it would likely be first thing in the morning that he would indulge.

Awakening to find his morning erection practically waving at him beneath the bedsheets, his skin sensitive from everything that dares to touch him and his mind replaying the lewd dreams of you from the night.

Langris grasps the base of his dick, hissing through his teeth at the initial contact, he won't last long, he knows that much. Screwing his eyes shut and chin tilting his head back to face the ceiling as he tries his best to imagine it is your hand around him. The difference in size and strength of grips should be enough to wipe away his foolish illusion but Langris is so headstrong that the image of you remains clear.

He'd much rather it was you doing this, your dainty hand pumping his length, spreading his precum over his heated flesh in between kitten licks from your naughty tongue.

Only a few strokes to this imagery are enough for him to relieve the pressure in his abdomen and balls. Completely messing up the sheets but hoping he can slip them into the laundry without question.

Langris really cannot wait to get back home to you.

K - Kink

Don't tell anyone, Langris will not be impressed if you dared disclose this information to anyone - he means it - tell no one.

Langris is a sucker for praise.

You discovered it completely by accident. Laying back in Langris's bed, thighs spread wide and pinned down by his strong hands, his face was entirely buried in your cunt.

Your fingers speared into his lush hair, gripping at the roots as you spoke in broken moans;

"Oh gods, baby. You're making me feel so good."

He stilled for a second before his sparkling eyes lifted to lock with your own. You visibly watched the pink stain deepen on his cheeks, his tongue flickered against your clit and you whimpered.

Waiting until he was back to tasting your velvet lower lips, you spoke once more and carefully watched his reaction.

"Baby, you're such a good boy. So amazing at eating me out."

He groaned in his throat, eyes rolling to white as his hips rutted against the mattress. Langris was lost to his actions, fucking himself whilst he devoured you like a man possessed.

Let's just say that you know how to pull his strings, how to gently manipulate him into giving you exactly what you want.

"Whose your handsome best boy?"

L - Location

Again, Langris is fairly traditional with his preference. He likes to make love or fuck like feral beasts, depending on his mood, in the safety of your shared bed.

The options were almost limitless, he could contort your limbs into a variety of positions or simply choose to indulge in straight vanilla sex.

However, he has become rather fond of taking you in his office. It seems so naughty and unprofessional of him, seeing you bent at the waist with your dress simply a puddle of cloth only covering your middle. Your beautiful tits pressed into the smooth oak of his desk, both your arms in his grip as he slams into your fluttering cunt.

The sound of skin slapping is lewd and delicious as he reminds you to be quiet, knowing that you will fail sooner or later and he will have to make you suck on his fingers to dull your noises.

He loses himself in the sight of his cock plunging into your welcoming warmth, his balls smacking against your clit with every precise thrust and the jiggle of your ass cheeks as the clapping noise increases with each gush of essence that crashes against his crotch.

Yeah, Langris would take in his office at every opportunity afforded to him.

M - Motivation

There are times when work has to come first, you know this well and you understand, you do, but it's so difficult when it is keeping you from the tender touch of your handsome man.

Langris can become easily absorbed into his work, often not noticing how late he has stayed locked away in his office - he locks it knowing you'll try to distract him if he doesn't. He loves you dearly, but he feels there is still a lot he needs to prove.

By the time he slumps into your bedroom, dark rings under his eyes and shoulders slouched from exhaustion, you know you'd have to work a miracle to get him in the mood.

You've planned for this, Langris finds the room bathed in the soft glow of candlelight and you are draped on the bed in your finest lingerie. Silk adorns your torso from neckline to midthigh, the golden shimmer catching beautifully in the glow.

"My love, I am so very tired," his plea is genuine and there is strain around his eyes from denying you.

"I know baby, come here. Let me take care of you."

You pat the bed and watch as he slowly undresses to leave his uniform in a trail from the door to the bed - very unlike him. He hums his appreciation as he truly looks over your enticing lingerie, wishing he wasn't so damn tired.

Isn't it amazing how reinvigorating a sensual massage, a willing ear to listen to his woes and a loving hand to caress all his favoured areas can be? Langris is swept into the care you pile on him so generously.

You know in your heart that if he really was too tired, you weren't going to force the issue, this had been a lovely evening and you had no desire to spoil it with an argument. Slipping from the bed so you can change into his shirt for the night, he catches your wrist by surprise.

"Ride me, my love," he pleads.

"We don't have to, I know you're tired..."

Langris pulls you to him, lips searing against your own before he parts your mouths.

"I have not the energy to ravish you as I'd like, but I'd love to watch you fuck yourself on my cock."

Well, you don't need asking twice...

N - No

Langris, despite seeming rather uptight to most, is fairly open to trying new things in the bedroom. He feels the safest when experiencing activities with you - his trust runs soul deep.

However, there are a few things that are a straight 'no' and those are never going to change. Namely, anything that would cause you or him harm or pain. A spank on the ass, hair pulling, nails raking into flesh or hard bites are the limit to his tolerance for pain in the bedroom. Anything beyond that is a 'no'.

The same goes for anything too risky; he might love taking you in his office but he is not about to indulge in initiating intimate relations in a place where you are likely to be discovered, that would be foolish. The very thought of someone else seeing your body in the throes of passion is enough to boil his blood and make him see red. You are his and his alone, and in the same regard, he is yours.

Langris does not share, not now and not ever.

O - Oral

Langris is a big fan, and will often put off the main event in favour of absolutely losing himself in the feel and taste of your core. He will push you well on the way to extreme overstimulation as he practically refuses to detach from your puffy clit and swollen lips.

Drinking in your whimpers much in the same way he drinks in your delicious nectar, Langris can cum entirely untouched in this situation. Driving his hips further into the yielding mattress as you squeeze the life out of his head.

The man has serious game when it comes to oral skills, perhaps having a razor-sharp tongue helped him in this regard and in honesty it doesn't much matter.

He knows exactly when to tease your clit, when to slide his velvet tongue along your slit, how firmly to press his nose against your hood and when to prod at your aching hole.

His record is one straight hour spent between your slick thighs, and he would have continued if he wasn't concerned you would pass out from dehydration.

As for receiving, it is sometimes the best part of waking up. You were his very own alarm clock, often waking before him - which was saying something considering how early he wakes - to slide between the sheets and feast on his flesh.

The first moan out of his mouth tells you he is awake, uncovering your hidden form so he can watch exactly what you are doing. Cupping his sensitive balls as you slobber all over his dick, eyes wet from the tears of forcing him further and further down your throat. Muscles constricting to the point that his hips are jerking and he's cursing under his breath.

Langris won't last much longer, the early morning erection already close to painful and demanding release. Along with the sight of your fluttering lashes and tears tracking your cheeks, it's more than enough to force his orgasm - of which you collect every drop on your tongue, showing it to him before swallowing and opening your now empty mouth.

"Fuck, you're gonna kill me at this rate, my love."

P- Pace

Much depends on his mood, either is good at the right moment. Langris also likes to switch things up mid fuck, going from slow and languid strokes that ensure he grazes every sensitive spot in your clenching cunt to fast rough thrusts that make your toes curl and your nails dig into his shoulders.

He can play you like a damn fiddle when he wants, long having learned what every reaction meant and using different techniques to keep you on your toes.

You can be lost in his loving gaze, running your fingers softly through his hair as you reach up to peck at his parted lips one second and the next he has flipped you onto your stomach and is fucking into you like he is deep in mating season.

Don't ever think you truly know what is going through his head, especially when he is intoxicated by your nearness.

Q - Quickie

Langris really enjoys a quickie, it's an excellent way to feel connected to you in the times when work and evil schemes rear their ugly head.

Those moments when you are going about simple tasks like taking off your make-up or folding your clothes neatly away, the urge to pin you against the nearest wall is often irresistible.

If you could see the fiery blue flames that dance within his eyes, it would at least give you a hint as to what is to come, but he treats you like a predator stalking prey.

Pouncing when you least suspect it. Bruising kisses pressed to your lips as he rips away the layers keeping him from your bare skin, only every removing enough to allow him the much-needed access for scratching this insufferable itch.

You love when he is like this, the primal need driving him to consume you completely. It won't take long, the pace will be brutal and there will be little to no preamble but you find these moments raw and so real.

It reinforces the confidence that needs you just as much as you need him.

R - Risk

Langris is fairly risk-averse. He doesn't see any pleasure in putting you or him in harm's way. There would be no amount of pleasure in the world that could coax him into taking such frivolous and dangerous risks.

He wants you safe at all times.

Even when it comes to birth control, he is extremely diligent. He knows your cycle, probably better than you do, and he always has protection on hand for the times you forget to take your birth control pill. He is aware you are a little scatterbrained with such matters, and although he would much prefer to fuck you raw, the condoms are there for the times you do forget.

S - Stamina

On a day off, Langris is a solid 11/10.

He could probably go from dawn until dusk with the appropriate rest breaks scattered throughout - he could not survive on simply eating out your pussy - and water, lots of it would be required for such sessions.

These days are rare, although they do occur. As much as you enjoy being swept into carnal pleasure for an entire day, you would much rather enjoy his company in less lustful ways too. He is extremely witty when in the right mood, and you love to hear his take on current affairs over lazy mornings in bed. He has even been known to read the paper to you, adding his own spin on the events of the previous day much to your quiet amusement and giggles.

On a work day then he is probably closer to 6/10. He gives it his all and will most likely have enough energy to go at least twice before flopping back on the bed with his eyes shut and his chest rapidly rising and falling.

"My love, please tell me you have had enough?"

Can anyone truly have enough of Langris Vaude?

T - Toys

Toys are not something that is prevalent, therefore not much consideration has been given to their usage in the bedroom.

Langris would likely find the idea of introducing toys into the lovemaking deeply wounding. Isn’t he enough for you? He’d huff and puff at the thought of it, full-on pouting lower lip and refusing to meet your eye.

Heaven forbid that he discovers how toys could be used to drive you to the brink of desperation. Langris would likely smirk as he presses the tiny bullet vibrator to your clit, watching your legs tremble and shake from the vibrations entering your body.

“You asked for this, my love.”

U - Unfair

Langris can be extremely unfair when the mood strikes him. There is a slight sadist streak that stems from his upbringing and he hasn’t managed to shake all of it away. He might choose to let out his frustrations by toying with the idea of turning you into a whimpering boneless mess.

He’ll become absorbed in bringing you to the very precipice of orgasm, your hips stuttering and nails scrabbling against the bedsheets, only to dial it back down. The first few times are annoying but fun, after that you are full-on crying for him to let you cum. The pressure is too great, you might implode on the bed if he doesn’t push you over that final cliff edge.

He chuckles darkly, narrating his entire process as his slender fingers dip between your folds, spreading your slick and teasing your hole with short thrusts.

“You want to cum, my love?” Langris sounds so haughty, tearing his lips away from your quivering and tortured nipples to speak.

You can only nod fervently, noises of garbled assent slipping from your lips.

“Beg me.”

And you do. Langris can suffer from a slight God complex from time to time, and this is one of them. He is so unfair but always makes up for it on the other side. Aftercare is now one of his specialities and when he has been this cruel, he spoils you rotten with his actions and affection.

V - Volume

It’s rather a surprise how verbal Langris is mid-coitus. You hadn’t pegged him for being much of a talker, but you can’t help but be turned on by the lewd whispers in your ear.

“You like that? You like my cock buried in your cunt, stretching you open?”

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve damn near lost consciousness from the utter filth that he paints with his words. He’d probably make a fantastic erotic fiction writer, not that he ever would dare such a sinful hobby - most unbecoming.

Other than his words, he grunts, groans and growls. He is not one for shying away from letting you know exactly how deeply your actions are affecting him.

Pulling him in for a kiss by yanking on his belt? He is growling like a grizzly bear before his mouth slants over yours.

Waking him with your special wake-up call? He is groaning as he watches inch by delicious inch disappear into your throat.

Straddling his lap to impale yourself on his eager cock? He is grunting as your slow descent continues until you are fully sheathing his length.

Langris is rarely silent in these heated moments, and every little word or noise fills your soul to the brim with love for your beloved man.

W - Wild Card

The closest Langris ever came to losing his damn mind and fucking you in a place where discovery would have been likely was last year at a party hosted by the Black Bulls.

His fractious relationship with his brother, Finral, is healing slowly and with your continued reassurances that you would be by his side the entire time, he agreed to attend.

You liked Finral, you could see how much effort he was putting into building the bridges between himself and Langris, as well as how sweet he was to you. He had a partner of his own, and the two of you always got along well.

The party was in full swing with more than enough crazy antics to write a book about. Langris was nursing the same drink he had been holding an hour ago whilst you might have indulged in a little more than was sensible.

Pulled to your feet by Finral’s girlfriend, you both make your way to the small area set up as a dance floor. It’s innocent at first, girly shrieking as you both jump around with Noelle and Mimosa, but it changes quickly.

The cousins flounce off to find Asta, leaving just the two of you remaining as the music changes to something with a heavier beat. One thing leads to another you find yourself entwined with the girl, hips rolling in tandem and hands ghosting down sides and over stomachs.

One look over at your man and you almost moan aloud. The brothers look feral, tension radiating around them and you are sure it is not from an argument. Their respective eyes find their partners and for a few more minutes you decide to continue the show.

Finral snaps first, quick steps towards you as he pulls his girl away to goodness knows where, leaving you alone and seeking out Langris. You find him standing in a shadowy recess, he crooks a finger and you practically run to him.

His fingers tangle in your hair, baring your throat with a harsh pull on your silken strands. His scorching mouth licks a path from your throat to your mouth, insistent lips bruising against your own and teeth nipping at your kiss swollen lips.

Your hands are pawing at his chest, inching under the tight fit of his shirt and eliminating all space between your bodies.

Langris finds the strength to stop this in its tracks before he is fucking you for all to see. He doesn’t want that, doesn’t wish to share you. The dancing with Finral’s girl was the very limit to his allowances and he hadn’t expected to be quite so affected, and it seemed his brother was much in the same boat.

Arriving home was quite the experience but it’s a secret Langris wants to keep between you two.

Ask nicely enough and the story might be told…

X - X-Ray

Oh my, you walk in on Langris exiting the shower. The towel loosely tucked around his hips happens to fall away at the very moment you close the door. What an eyeful, let’s drink in this absolute treat of a male.

Golden brown hair damp and tousled clings to his handsome face. His jaw is sharp, angular with defined cheekbones that many a girl would kill for. His aquamarine eyes lock with yours as you trail his impressive frame with a hungry gaze. His lips tilt into a knowing smirk, chin lifting in what you might think to be haughty defiance, but you know him better than that, he is teasing you for looking so brazenly.

His skin is very lightly tanned with a faint sprinkling of freckles gracing his shoulders. His torso is lithe but well-defined. Muscles packed onto his slim frame in a way that makes his strength entirely unassuming. Long slender fingers wiggle as you continue to venture down, almost dancing as if to remind you of the last time he had used the digits on your body.

His stomach dips slowly, unfazed by your tour of him and you eye his happy trail that you adore so much. He must be happy to see you, his generous cock lengthening before your eyes, as if by magic. His length is impressive, more than enough to kiss your cervix and with an especially girthy base that means you never truly get used to his size. There is always a slight burn to accommodate him fully, but you love it, love the stretch.

His legs are slim as are his hips, and although he is face on you can well imagine his cute little tush. Knew that he is likely clenching his cheeks as you bite your lip and finally pad towards him in anticipation.

What a man…

Y - Yearning

Langris is always yearning, although you might not even know it. Coming from nobility he has long since mastered the art of entirely masking his emotions behind a veil of indifference.

He might let you in on his little secret, whispering in your ear as you pass each other in the hallway. Tells you just how adorable he finds your new knee-high socks and that he can’t wait to learn how they feel next to his ears. You’ll squirm as people pass the two of you, not knowing that the vice-captain of the Golden Dawn is turning your panties damp with his words.

Then again, he might not tell you how turned on he is whenever you are near him. It’s his little secret, one that brings that smug smile to his lips. To keep it under wraps means he has to keep his hands and his thoughts to himself at least some of the time, it’s hard when he is literally aching for you. Everything below the waist feels far too tight and restrictive.

If he didn’t take his duties as seriously as he does then he would likely be found twisting the sheets with you as often as he could.

Langris always wants to be buried in your warmth, but realistically, he knows this is impossible. He’ll settle for taking you in any free moments he has.

Z - Zzz

Langris needs his sleep, he cannot function on too little of it and he has a rather strict sleep schedule that he rarely deviates from.

Before he met you, he used the extra hours in the morning for exercise, reading and catching up with paperwork. Now he is more likely to be found reading the paper to you as you snuggle against his side or fucking you absolutely senseless before he has to get ready for work.

The man does not believe in naps, they are a waste of his time and he tsks every time he finds you nestled in the sheets during the day. You best believe he is gonna spank your ass to wake you up, and he wonders if you specifically wear your cutest pink panties for this very reason.

Langris is in bed by 11pm every night. He doesn’t force you to bed at the same time, he knows you often read much later into the night but he will pout from his side of the bed if you choose to read in the chair. His eyes, already heavy from the sleep that is fast approaching, blink at you slowly. A hand slips free of the comforter to make adorable grasping motions and his bottom lip juts out.

You roll your eyes, but you know you’ll be climbing into bed with him, how could you say no to the soft vulnerable side of Langris? His head on your lap, he almost purrs his contentment moments before he is fast asleep.

“Sweet dreams handsome, I love you.”

[tofumiarchives]

❀ just what in the shapeshifter fuck is this man 😭😭😭

❀ I'm so disappointed actually... Why did the suit suddenly become skin-tight what. she's really pretty and I'm hyped because she's a fighter, but I don't think changing her body type was necessary 🥀

[seizuki]

I'm so sick of this. What the hell!? I get that it's technically a 'beauty standard', but it's a fighting manhwa. At least give some muscle 😭 PTJ also forgetting about Sophia and Euntae's girl(I forgot her name </3), they could've been the women with such a great fight in lookism.

Talking about the clothes suddenly skin tight too, gee

I'm so tired of some action manhwa.