#// throwing himself into fights against gods

[sibsteria]

Our lady of sorrows…

Mikey Way x Fem!Reader, Secret!xReader

part two

Warnings/Content: angst, fluff, mentions of abuse, not proofread too much, I think this part is rather lazy with writing so I apologise, part three out soon!

Summary: forgot to mention, this is around 1998-2004 I didn’t wanna put a specific year so I can include a variety of things :) I also don’t want to include things such as Gerard’s alcoholism and drug addiction, personal troubles the boys had, etc. as this is meant to be fiction for fun, any troubles within the story with be fictional and apart of my story. Maybe just maybe Y/n’s ex boyfriend is name dropped in this? Can her and Mikey figure this whole thing out?

1 | 2

The air that followed was a sting to your skin, a million thoughts a minute, racing against one another. The next step is lost, he remains buried deep inside you, thick swallows and breaths slowing to shallow.

“I’ll uhm-I’m gonna go clean up a little. You wanna take a shower or something?” He slides out and it’s such a bearing feeling, empty, as if he had pulled out the air in your lungs. You fail to notice his hopeful eyes casting down at you when he stood, he was never one with words.

Stupid. Stupid! You are so fucking stupid, Mikey, God. Say something to her….his inner monologue harassing him, desperate to open up his heart.

Yet.

He stood there, mouth dry, head heavy. He was silent, nothing was coming out- something had ripped his voice right from him.

Frustrated and angry at himself, he leaves, a dusty towel from the floor protecting his nudity as he leaves for the bathroom.

Was that it…? Was this a one time thing? Not that you wanted to put that pressure on him but there were no words of comfort or confirmation. Tears bite at your waterline, fighting to escape, no. That’s just embarrassing. The disdain in your heart would never last long- even if your feelings got hurt- your love for him would return right back to how it always was. You couldn’t stop loving him, dreaming of this moment in the past, it was a sure shock to you.

Mikey is fighting with himself in the bathroom, close to tears himself, that’s just embarrassing. Why didn’t he say anything? He knew you were looking at him, watching, waiting for him. Now you probably sat there, confused and most definitely upset. He didn’t want you to think this was nothing because it wasn’t to him, but he just couldn’t say it.

Your throat clenched, you felt like throwing up, and you were sure you weren’t just pulling green.

You had to make a choice, endure this night next to him, lay in darkness. Or do you leave?

He probably wanted you to go, not sparing you a word or a glance, that’s why he’s been gone so long. Just waiting for you to leave.

You begrudgingly make your choice, wiping yourself off with some tissues you found on his nightstand, grabbing your bag and clothes. Thanking above that you still had his shirt on, you slowly crept out, tiptoeing through the silent house. Barefoot at the too of the basement stairs, you knew Gee wouldn’t mind the intrusion, but what’s your reason?

Hey Gee, I fucked your younger brother and can’t bear the awkwardness and heartbreak?

No, that would be for Frankie, later.

You could think about it whilst you tried to sleep, Gee wouldn’t notice you come in.

Still fighting tears, you had manage to creep down into his room, a perfect space for you to slide into bed next to him.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Okay, he could explain when he came back, right? He would apologise and hold you close, all out of any possible excuse he could use. Yes, that’s the plan.

Partly confident, he left the bathroom, using silent breathing exercises to amp himself up.

He pushed open the door, still hearing the stereo playing, he started to speak.

“Y/n- listen…I-“ His breath catches, you weren’t there?

He swallows his heart down his throat, the thought of you leaving had made it launch up. Was he that bad? Oh god, was it him saying nothing? Had he ruined a sure, good thing he could have had?

Had you left the house, completely?

Biting his lip, he didn’t know what to do, did you have your phone today?

He decided nothing could go wrong if he sent you a message.

Where R U? U Ok? We need 2 talk

He hits send, praying for a reply, it wouldn’t be your fault if you had left it in your house but he hoped that wasn’t the case.

Laying in the dimly lit basement, you hear a chime from your bag, you couldn’t sleep anyways.

You sit up, leaning over the side of the bed, swimming your hand in your bag until you felt something that resembled your phone.

You read the message, oh, he was definitely going to break your heart. We need to talk? This was for sure a one time thing.

You sighed quietly, debating a reply.

Talk tmr, nite

You bit your lip and hit send, you really needed to get some sleep.

Yeah, he deserved that response, he thought in his head. He hoped you were safe, he was sure he would have heard the front door if you left?

He better get some sleep, too.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You slept decently despite the fact of all that happened, the comfort that Gee could give, even in a non response state, was a great aid to an ailment.

You were shaken awake, met with questions, as expected.

“Hey, sugar? You awake, yet?” Gee shook your arm.

“Yes, I’m god damn awake.” You groan with a mumble and then giggle as he tickles your nose with a strand of your hair.

“What’ya doing here? Thought you were with Mikes last night?” He questioned, not necessarily suspicious of anything at all.

“Snored too much, couldn’t sleep, y’know.” Impeccable acting from you, this wasn’t exactly a lie, he was like a foghorn most nights. This had happened a couple of times, you’d smack him on the arm a couple times before dipping to sleep with Gerard. A believable stunt you thought of late last night.

“Ah, well, guess I’m the lucky one, my future partner will praise me for my lack of snoring.” He beamed, he totally believed what you said.

“Future partner, my ass. You and Frank will live in a dirty apartment with fourteen cats at fifty.” He knocked his shoulder, before yawning.

He hummed in agreement.

“Well, you will be there with us, I see no romance in your life, missy.” He got you there.

“So true it stings.” You half smiled.

“Whatever happened to your old boyfriend? The one from Chi-“ You cut him off at the mention of your ex, the only other person you could say you had been in love with and probably still in love with. You told Gee about him, and just how amazing that relationship had been, gushing and mourning the loss of a great partner. Of course he was the one you had lost your virginity to, both of you together and unsure, learning with each other and it was perfect.

And the worst part was it wasn’t a terrible breakup, it wasn’t your fault you were forced to move state, it wasn’t your fault you broke your cell phone when you got here- losing his number forever. You remember that night more than you wished to.

And the day you left.

You both cried, hugging, refusing to let each other go on moving day, he promised you would always be the last good thing about that part of town. He was your everything. He was sweet and kind, absolutely adorable. God, you did miss him. But there was no way you would see him again, he probably thought you’d stopped talking to him on purpose- that you didn’t want to see him again. Didn’t love him.

That was way off, but there was no chance he would ever come looking for you after that.

“He definitely doesn’t want to see me.” Forlorn and defeated you lean on Gee’s shoulder.

“We could get married at forty? If we are still miserable souls not having found our match?” He sighs.

“Sounds like a plan, we would have to adopt Frank, of course.”

“Oh, it goes without saying.”

You had been indefinitely cheered up as a couple of hours went by. You had to get up and get ready eventually, the boys were coming round for band practise, and then later you were gonna go into this underground dive bar that Frank and you had been to a couple of times before bringing the guys- and they let in under 21s, letting you guys play there a lot of times, too. You secretly thanked yourself for developing a wardrobe box of sorts in Gee’s room, your best clothing piled inside.

You decided to take off Mikey’s shirt, putting on some comfy clean clothes, you had no idea who out of all of you each piece belonged to but it didn’t matter.

Seeing Mikey was playing on your mind, were you ready to face that mess?

You had no choice, you couldn’t let Gee know anything was up, so you had to.

Trailing after your best friend up the stairs, you peek into the living room, Mikey already sat on the couch- zoning out to the TV.

“Mornin’” Gee greets his brother, his ears perking up, immediately looking to see if you were there. His heart stops when he sees you, god, you looked so beautiful- even after everything last night.

“Hi, Y/n.” He waves, trying his chances.

“H-hey.” You avoid his eyes, darting off to the kitchen to get a glass of water, even treating yourself to some ice.

He fucked up, you couldn’t even look at him.

“I’m gonna’ go out and get some snacks later, want anything?” Mikes turned to his brother.

Gerard mumbles a loose list of items, the usual snack run.

You walk back into the room, standing and sipping your glass, well aware of the tension between Mikey and you. You were almost sweating because of how thick the air is, painful.

“Got it. Y/n, will you come with? Could use a hand or two?” Your eyes widen for a moment, you look between him and Gee. Well, fuck, you can’t say no can you?

“Sure, give me a moment to fix my hair.” You still can’t look at him, running to the closest mirror to tie it up with a hair tie you had found, preparing for the worst.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The walk to the store was silent for a while, neither of you had the guts to speak, until Mikey decides to break it.

He grabs your wrist, ever so gently.

“Y/n. Can we talk?” He doesn’t let go of your wrist, you finally meet his eyes after avoiding it for so long.

“I guess.” You act distant prepared for heartbreak.

“Listen. I know I didn’t say anything last night and I am not gonna’ stand here and make excuses, you don’t deserve that from me. I really don’t know what happened, it’s like I couldn’t speak, nothing would come out. I am so unbelievably sorry if I made you feel like shit, that was not what I wanted, at all.” He wasn’t done but he felt like continuing to ramble an apology would do him worse off, he wanted this to be a conversation.

“Okay…thank you for that. I wasn’t the best either. I left because I thought you didn’t wanna see me, I thought you were waiting for me to leave. Like, when you said nothing and just left, I thought that was it. I guess I just want to know what your feelings are?” You open up, you don’t have the energy to do any less for Mikey.

His feelings? He didn’t even know what they were. He knew he had feelings for you, strong ones. But the definition? No clue at all.

“M-my feelings? Uhm-“ You took a deep breath, here it comes, “I really don’t know, I wish I did. I have feelings for you…I do, really. I just don’t know where we take this from here? I don’t do relationships, I never have, I don’t know where to start, but I know I want you, somehow.” That wasn’t too bad. “I think you are so beautiful and obviously I see you as one of my best friends-“ He is starting to lose you with that.

“Think of it this way. Do you want to date me? Do you want to fuck me? Anything like that springing to mind?” He winces at the word fuck.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Think about it and get back to me. Could I do one last thing?” You don’t know what possesses you, or where you found the courage for this, but it’s better now than never. You would give him something to think about.

“Sure…anything.” Mikey fixes his glasses, as you take a step closer to him.

“Can I kiss you?” Your heart stammers, if this is goodbye to it all, then you want one last kiss.

Mikey doesn’t reply with words, he just nods, his ears turning pink.

You swallow your nerves, cupping his face before bringing him down to meet your lips with his, somehow all your nerves melted away.

The sensation of him kissing you makes you lighter than air, you hope this isn’t goodbye and that he has the sense to love you.

Mikey starts kissing back harder but you pull away, if he wants to kiss you again, he knows the decisions he has to make.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Band practise was in full swing, switching from written originals to winged pieces from Iron Maiden, to just pure chaotic screaming and noise.

You stood in for the drummer most practises, unable to find one that would stay for long, you didn’t want the spotlight in your life but that didn’t mean you would let your friends fail. If you had to be the drummer indefinitely, you would, for them.

“Can we take a break? I am dying for a cigarette….” Frank huffs, stretching out his back.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll take ten.” Gee waves him off, leaving the room, presumably to wet his windpipes after some decent screaming.

“You are so locked in, Y/n, this is a sick as fuck practise, today.” Frank compliments, mumbling half through his cigarette as he lights it.

“Why thank you, Frankenstein, trying my best as always.” You got the hang of perfecting a drumstick spin, adding one to the end of your sentence letting it spin between your fingers.

I wonder what had you so drum happy today? Small, stolen glances during your haphazard set between you and Mikey had you blushing, easily hidden by the violent act of drumming making you red in the face. Could that be why? The awkwardness had slowly melted away during the day, just leaving a sense of nervousness.

You decide you had to eat something, having gone without all day. You grab what you could guess was a blueberry muffin from the counter, that would do.

You sit on the couch, Frank across from you on a chair and Mikey sat on the floor near the drum kit.

There’s a weird look on Frank’s face, one you can’t quite make sense of, you raise your eyebrow at him.

“Enjoying your muffin?” He stifles a giggle, what in the world was he playing at?

“Yes…why?” You question, slowly.

“That’s not important- What does that muffin taste like?” He hums, tilting his head.

“Um….blueberry?” You roll your eyes, weirdo.

“And?” He bites his lip.

“And what? Blueberry, that’s it.” You stop eating, confused at what he was playing at.

“And…” He drags out his word, raising his eyebrows at you, it dawns on you. Not again.

“DID YOU FUCKING LICK THIS?” You scream, jaw dropping.

“Like a LOLLIPOP!” He cackles, dodging the muffin that flew at him, you grunt, tackling him off the chair.

“You little freak- swear I’m gonna-“ Mikey silently chuckles, covering his mouth in the corner as you attempt to smack him in the head, tousling on the floor.

“Hey! Knock it off!” Ray runs in, having followed Gee, he snatches his guitar off the floor as it is dangerously close to getting kicked.

“Thank you, Ray. She’s, crazy!” Frank is heaving, still dodging your hits

“Sorry, Ray, he licked my fucking food, again.” You growl.

“Oh, never mind, please yourself then.” Ray shrugs.

“Ha!” You scream down Frank’s ear.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You stare at yourself in the mirror, was this too much? Not enough?

You had actually done something with your hair, it sat in perfect, teased curls, having used an ancient curling iron Gerard had found.

A dress you had been saving for a special occasion, hugs you perfectly- a lovely mix between grunge and gorgeous. Some would say ruined- you would say improved by fishnets and your docs- comfort over classy. Picking up Frank’s old leather jacket, that he had bought to be a baggy item, was just as baggy on you. You let the jackets shoulder slide down resting on your upper arm, like a shawl or sorts.

You took more time on your makeup, going a little more out than you normally would, even you could admit shyly to yourself you looked kinda good. Heavy eyeliner, all smoked out and big, not like the usual under eye- it makes you wanna put this effort in again. You finish it off with a black lip, not the usual red-purple that stained your lips for days. You fix your piercings that were a little crooked, putting some cooler earrings in too.

You do a final look, dusting off your clothes and spraying some sweet perfume to mask the smell of the Way’s.

You hear the door to Gerard’s bedroom creak open, you turn your head to find Ray.

“Oh, sorry Y/n-“ He smiles when he sees you. “You look really beautiful, y’know.” He nods toward you. You laugh a little.

“I think for once I can say I do look a little pretty today.”

“I don’t mean just now either, you are beautiful, and I know you don’t see it.” Your heart tugs itself, trust Ray to make everything feel better.

“Thank you, means a lot to me, Toro.” You avoid his eyes to avoid crying and ruining your makeup.

“I think you are missing something, though.” You raise your brow at him.

“What might that be.”

Ray looks around the room, a bouquet of artificial black roses stood in a vase, he immediately goes up to them. Picking one up, he finds some scissors and cuts the stem close to the head so just the flower head and a bit of stem is left. He grabs a few of your bobby pins he found near your makeup before pinning it into your hair.

“Now it’s all together.” He fixes a few fly-away hairs, like a dad or a brother would on prom night.

“It looks perfect, why didn’t I think of that?”

“Make sure to turn some heads.”

“I will.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“I heard there’s a new band playing tonight, their turn in the hot seat.” Frank muses, all of you stood around in the Way living room, still waiting on Mikey.

“I love it when a new band comes along, like seeing how they play and what drum techniques different people use.” You shrug.

“Well, they aren’t better than us, that’s guaranteed, which is why we have a half an hour set after them.” Frank tells his little secret and all of your groan a little.

“C’mon, I thought we were getting fucked up tonight? You remember what happened last time we were hammered.” You cringe at the memory of Frank falling into your drums and ruining the whole performance after breaking the snare.

“We are going to control ourselves, have a couple of drinks, and thennnnnn- afterwards we can let hell loose?” He proposes, like it was his plan all along.

“Fine.” You smile, the rest of the band in agreement. You can start to hear Mikey’s footsteps coming closer and closer to the room, you do a quick pat down when no one was looking making sure there was nothing stuck on you.

He uses the entrance behind you, announcing himself.

Mikey’s world turns in slow motion as you turn around, meeting his eyes, you looked more breathtaking than ever.

He wished it was his jacket you were wearing, not Frank’s, but he doesn’t want to rush this.

“Don’t she look drop dead gorgeous?” Gerard hums to Mikey, all he can do is nod and stare, pushing back his thoughts and wants- the ones screaming kiss her.

For now, he would have to behave himself.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ray never drank too much anyway, a glass or two for night and due to Frank putting you down for a performance you decided to bring the van to use your own instruments- all except your drums- that was too much effort- so Ray would be the casually designated driver.

The drive there was fun, cigarette smoke slipping through the open windows whilst hard rock and the occasional ballad (definitely not Frank’s mix) blared through the speakers.

You saw the entertainment sign as you neared.

Tonight at ‘Puzzles’:

Introducing-

Fall Out Boy !

(appearances from My Chemical Romance)

Cool name, but not as cool as yours, you had thought. Your exes band didn’t even have a name when you had left them, it wouldn’t be them, surely. Although the thought always played on your mind- one day would they find their way here?

You parked round the back like always, opting to leave your stuff in the van.

You walked into the bar and everything was in full swing, just how it always was, The dirty floor, the sound of smashing bottles from behind the bar, the music playing heavy through the speakers and an abundance of drunken laughter.

The band wasn’t on yet, you hadn’t missed the opportunity to judge them, deciding to grab a drink you yanked Frank by the hand to join you.

“Hey, Y/n! Frank, what’s up, man!” The bartender bro bumps Frank before giving you a friendly wink and a smile.

“Hey, Ted, bud.” You wave, he automatically points to the cheapest bottles beer and you both nod in amusement.

Your coins clink together as you lay them down on the bar, paying for yours and Frank’s, he would get the next one anyways.

“Thanks, hun.” Frank cheers’ you, before you both bring the bottles to your lips, chugging half.

The rest of the guys join you shortly after, creating a messy semi circle near the bar.

“I know we said go easy but…shots?” Gerard’s eyes sparkle mischievously, you all cave immediately.

“I’m in.” Mikey.

“Fine, you’re paying.” Frank.

“I can’t say no.” You.

“I’ll just take a beer.” Ray, smart.

The shots are poured and you all clink them and table tap them before knocking them back.

You put your shot glasses back on the table before someone taps on your shoulder.

It couldn’t be the guys as you’re facing them, and you don’t really know anyone else so who would that be?

You spin around with a confused look on your face, your eyes widening as you see who tapped you.

“Pete! What the hell, man, What are you doing here?” You are pulled in for a hug, god, you missed him- your old best friend. Did he bring him? Was Pete on his own?

The guys give you a confused look, you wave them with your hand- you would explain later.

“Hey, Y/n- actually, we are play-“ He was cut off by the stage microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen! New here tonight and ready to play for you all- I want you to give a wild, Jersey, welcome to Fall Out Boy!” The new band is called to the stage. The crowd murmurs a little giving a cheer.

“We are here to play!” Pete beams, gauging your reaction. Your face drops, you can’t swallow, he can’t be here on his own. That must mean-

“See you after the set, Y/n. Somehow I just knew you would be here.” Pete bids you goodbye, heading to the stage.

You watch as they all pick up their instruments.

You run to stand in between Gee and Mikey.

“He’s here.” You whisper in Gee’s ear, he gives you wide eyes, knowing exactly who you mean.

First there’s Andy, heading to the drums- you remember when he first let you on his kit- you fell in love with them. He gave you pointers and helped you fuel your love for them more throughout the years.

Joe, sweet old Joe. The laughter filled afternoons, where you sat around trying to throw candy in each other’s mouths.

Pete, your old best friend, the tears shared and times you spent together never seemed to leave your mind.

And then…

Patrick.

He looks good, so good. You hadn’t seen him since moving day, the day you left Illinois.

Damn it.

You watch with awe, as he shyly introduces themselves again, picking up his guitar. You can’t draw your eyes away from him.

You don’t notice how Mikey looks at you, do you know this band?

“Uhm, so there’s someone here in Jersey, who I- we lost a long time ago- a lot of these songs we wrote about her. I hope to see her whilst I’m here. This is- Grand Theft Autumn!” Could he be talking about you?

Before Patrick starts singing, Pete whispers in his ear and his eyes widen. He must know your here now.

The pressure is on.

“Where is your boy, tonight? I hope he is a gentleman.”

“Maybe he won’t find out what I know.”

He sounds amazing as ever, you can’t help but smile.

“You were the last good thing about this of town.”

You gasp as he sings with full chest, the last thing he ever said to you before you left Chicago.

Tears brim your eyes, he must think about you too.

The band is in full motion, Patrick’s eyes searching the crowd, you know he is looking for you. Are you ready to face him? After all these years?

You realise shortly you will have to play in front of him, show him what your band is made of.

What about Mikey?

You start the ponder the unresolved feelings, snatched away from you in Chicago. The new blooming feelings in Jersey.

You can’t stop staring at Patrick, the way the stage lights hit his face, all your feelings swarming inside the hive that is your stomach.

“I need another round.” You mumble in Frank’s ear, he grabs you and pushes you up to the bar ordering four more beers, two for you and two for him.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but something is clearly fucking with you.” Frank half smiles, paying for the drinks.

“I fear the truth would break you, my love.” You laugh, feigning a sadness.

“Try me.” He ponders at you, you debate to tell him the situation.

On one hand, Frank would never tell anyone if you told him to stay quiet. On the other hand- ah, screw it.

“I fucked Mikey-“ Frank’s mouth drops open, like you just shot a dog in front of him, “mm not done, babe. My ex is up there and I am for sure still in love with him-“ Frank just stares, wide eyed, “and I’m in love with Mikey.”

“What the fuck.”

“I know-“

“You fucked Mikey?”

“Yeah, last night and-“

“Dude!”

“What!”

“I always thought it would be Gerard.”

“Shut up, you did not.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“He is like a damn brother to me!”

“Yeah, now he is.” Frank snorts, dodging a smack from you as you giggle at him.

“Rude!”

“So what’s the deal with your ex? The band actually play pretty good so, before I praise them on their skills I’d like to know if I should punch anyone or not?”

“I haven’t spoke. to Patrick for like, three years. I broke my phone when I got to Jersey and it had all my numbers in. Thought he’d be angry and forget about me, turns out, half their set is about me. He might still be angry at me- for thinking I just stopped talking to him. Oh, god, do you think he is here to yell at me?” You hold your temple, stressing out.

“Hey, hey. If he yells at you- you know I’ll- actually you don’t need to know what I’ll do.” He chuckles, giving you a side hug.

“Thanks, Frankie. You’re the best.” He smiles with his tongue between his teeth.

“You know, I’d ask you for more details on Mikey but I think that’s a conversation for later as he is comingrightthiswaybyeeeee!” He rushes out the last few words before sneaking off.

“Hey…” You turn around, Frank already lost to the crowd.

“Hi, Mikes.”

There is a nervous pause.

“You know the band?” He comes right out with it.

“Yeah…the bassist, Pete was my best friend and…yeah I knew them in Chicago- they didn’t even have a name then.” You decide to spare the information about Patrick.

“Cool, so…you and this Pete guy…it wasn’t him who you-“ You cut him off.

“Oh! No, no…Pete is- was just a friend.” You smile forlornly, remembering the friendship of the past. Maybe now you could get back in touch?

“Okay, good. I’m..not much of a fighter.” He laughs and gestures to himself.

“Aw, no, come on. I’m sure you could pull a punch.” You punch his shoulder, so gently, he only moves an inch.

“Let’s hope I never find out.” You look into Mikey’s eyes and feel a certain guilt.

A guilt that you still love Patrick.

A guilt that he doesn’t know anything.

A guilt that you love him.

“Mikey, I-“ You are cut off by a pair of lips on yours.

He pulls you insanely close, cradling your head in his, it’s passionate- more than any other kiss you’ve shared. He pulls away, shocked at himself.

“I am so sorry, you just looked so gorgeous in the light and- I have had a few drinks- I am so sorry.” He apologises, rambling on.

You look up to the stage discreetly, their last song ends and they start to exit the stage, you lose all the members in the crowd.

You panic. He deserves to know the truth.

“Mikey don’t be sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you- I just-“ You groan, trying to think of a way to explain, “I just want you to be sure of your feelings. I’m not someone that enjoys being fucked around with. Which is why you should know-“

“Y/n.”. A familiar voice behind you makes your stomach drop.

“Know what?” Mikey grabs your hand, pleading with you to tell him what’s wrong.

“I can’t believe it’s you.” You turn around, there he is, sure as day.

“Pat-“ Before you can speak, he pulls you into a hug and suddenly you’re eight years old again- meeting Patrick for the first time.

He smells the same, you feel a tear roll down your cheek, losing it as it falls onto his jacket.

“Your brother told me everything, back home. How your dad had told him you broke your phone and lost all your numbers- and I just knew you never stopped talking to me- I knew it.”

Your brother, being old enough to stay in Chicago, had one phone call with your dad when you moved, you mentioned about a broken phone- the only nice thing he had ever done was replace it. And that was only so he could now where you were at the press of a button- you wouldn’t dare reject his calls.

You missed your brother so much, but he knew you would have called if you could.

He must have told your brother- who told Patrick, who must have told the boys.

Who-

“Nice to meet one of Y/n’s friends from Illinois.” Mikey nods at him, Patrick looks at him confused.

“Friend? Did you not-“ Patrick turns to you, but before you can say anything, Mikey is kidnapped by Gerard and Ray- forcing him to come help them get their instruments.

“You looked like you could use a little help.” Frank whispers in your ear, before motioning that your set is on soon.

“Thank you.” You whisper back.

“What’s going on, Y/n? Did you not tell anyone about us?” Patrick doesn’t seem upset, just confused.

“I did…I promise. I just…I missed you too much to cope at all, I just couldn’t talk about it. I thought I’d never see you again.” You look at him, defeated- overwhelmed by everything all at once.

“I missed you, too. More than anything.” He grabs your hand, your heart flutters. You look a little different to how he remembers you, well, you are a lot different now. He still thinks you are drop dead gorgeous, more so even.

“I um, I gotta go prepare for my band to play. But here-“ You grab the pen hanging out of his jacket top pocket before scribbling your new number on his hand, “If we don’t get a chance, we will talk soon?” You smile.

“Yeah, yeah, of course, we are here for a couple weeks- Joe’s visiting his aunt a couple of towns over, so- I’ll be here. Wait- you’re My Chemical Romance?” His eyes shine, he’s never seen you play like you do now, you can’t wait.

“You know what- seems like I am.” You giggle before downing your beer and waving goodbye, running to the van parked out back to get your sticks, opting to use the house drums already on stage.

Your heart hangs heavy with all of tonight.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“And now welcome to the stage- a favourite here at Puzzles, you know them, you love them. They got a new album out in a couple of months- it’s My Chemical Romance!” Marshall, the announcer for most nights, gives you a high five as you all step out. You had decided to play a a few songs from your only album- I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love.

Of course the new one was in the making, and how things were looking seems you would be the drummer indefinitely. You often helped with the writing process, giving you a deep understanding to each lyric and beat.

Gerard amps up the crowd and you try to spot the boys in the audience, you do, you can see them by the bar.

Pete noticed you looking and gave you a wave, nudging Patrick, who gave you a shy wave too. Andy gives you a thumbs up, and Joe just smiles, nodding over.

“We decided tonight, we’re gonna start with a little something called Headfirst for Halos-“ Gerard motions over to me and I start my cue.

“1, 2, 3-“ You blur into the microphone next to you and as soon as your sticks hit the set- you know this is gonna be a good show.

Every song makes you sweat even more, your swinging your hair around, trying to keep it from sticking to your forehead. Frank’s nearly hit Mikey in the head five times and has already licked Gerard, Ray is stood- grounded- head banging like usual and definitely with more grace than you.

You guys finish off with the song that meant the most to you, Demolition Lovers. Having wrote a lot of the lyrics about Mikey- you felt a special connection to this one specifically- it was the band’s lovechild which basically gave you all (mostly Gee) the idea of the next album.

As Gerard sings, you can’t help but find Mikey with your eyes, he usually stand on his side of the stage, moving a klmetre or two but this time- he walks closer. He’s now playing at you- putting his heart into his bass

“I’m trying, I’m trying.”

“To let you know how much you mean”

“As days fade and nights grow”

“And we grow cold”

You start the cry a little, the lyrics you wrote, you feel it in your soul.

The song ends and you can’t do anything but sit there, the hot lights shining down on you.

“Our CD’s are behind the bar as usual if anyone would like one, we have been My Chemical Romance, thank you so much!” Gerard screams down the mic, you look at Mikey, he offers out his hand.

You take it, letting him pull you off stage with the guys, as you walk out the bitter cold air is pleasure against your skin- hot like metal.

Everyone starts putting their equipment back into the van.

“Cigarette?” Frank quips, having his own today he offers out the box.

“Deadly.” You breathe, taking one out, using Frank’s cigarette to light it as you forgot your bag at home.

“How about you just…be our drummer? You’re already the best out there, you never let us down. I know you don’t like spotlight and all but you write songs the way we do and we need you-“

“I’ll do it.” You laugh.

“Really?” Frank’s hopeful eyes shining at you, they had asked a few times with you always declining.

“Yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Guys! She’s in!” Frank screams, all of a sudden you are surrounded by sweaty, stinking males putting their paws all over you as they hug you.

“Finally!” Gerard kisses your forehead.

You just hope your whole boy situation doesn’t break up the band.

“You need me, what can I say?” You pretend to play it off cool.

What a night you are in for.

[moved-to-thanatologie]

every time someone on this hellsite says emmrich lacks courage i sharpen my nails to even more of a point.

[dirt-str1der]

Love characterising nishikiyama as a booze hound drug hound meth addict high every day body mass 75% alcohol hands constantly shaking literally spacing out while driving fifty over the speed limit using elderly folk as speedbumps one hand on the wheel and one hand free to do more drugs and coming into work while functionally deaf and blind and he is still leagues more competent at his job than kiryu

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Yakuza

When your brother gets himself deep into debt, one yakuza is surprisingly willing to help you get him out. Word Count: 4.3k

When your brother asks you to visit him in Tokyo, something about his voice makes your big sister instincts buzz.

He's great at putting on a show, but there's a twinge of nervousness to him that you've seldom heard before.

You spend your first week in the city with your hackles raised, trying and failing to figure out what he's hiding from you. And you might never have figured it out.

But then he showed up.

Yandere! Yakuza who kicks open your brother's door at three in the morning, a cigarette in one hand and a baseball bat in the other.

You scramble out of bed, convinced you're about to be murdered. And it's only your brother's hand hastily slapped over your mouth that keeps you from screaming bloody murder.

"Relax, I know these guys."

Despite his words, your brother doesn't look relaxed at all. His eyes dart around the room and he balls his fists into his jeans. It's a habit he hasn't broken since childhood and before you know it, you're stepping between him and a dangerously scarred yakuza.

Your Japanese is beyond rudimentary and your course didn't exactly cover how to have conversations with members of an organised crime family, but you tilt your chin back and try to keep your voice steady.

"Naze anata ga koko ni iru no ka? [why are you here?]"

Yandere! Yakuza who shamelessly leers at your tiny summer pyjamas. He pulls at his cigarette and when he speaks, his English is heavy with an accent.

"Came to collect what he owes us."

Of all the possible answers he could have given you, that was one you don't expect in the slightest. You turn to your brother and the way he avoids your eyes is answer enough. God, how could he be so stupid? Didn't you teach him better?

Yandere! Yakuza who came prepared to smash furniture and rough up a stubborn debtor suddenly finds himself at the mercy of your glare. You're at least a foot or two shorter than him and somehow it feels like he's the one being overpowered.

"How much does he owe?"

"Sis really I can-"

Yandere! Yakuza who scoffs and names a number much, much larger than you expected. It takes every ounce of will power not to scream at your brother right then and there. How could he get himself into such a mess? He's barely been here more than six months!

Yandere! Yakuza who watches the emotions flicker across your face and has to admire the way you fight them back. The only sign of your fear is a slight tremble in your hand.

"How much do you need tonight?"

The amount he names is just about everything you have in savings. You bite your lip. One look at him tells you everything you need to know. This isn't some small time crook. The pin on his suit jacket is clear as day, even to a foreigner like you.

You pull your coat over your pyjamas and grab your handbag.

"Let's go then."

When you step out into the hall, you're met with two other Yakuza. How didn't you notice them?

You meet their eyes, trying your absolute hardest to seem unruffled. Predators get violent when they sense fear, right? So don't like them catch that smell on you, no matter how fast your heart is racing.

The night air nips at your skin as you head to the nearest ATM.

"Sis it isn't that bad, I swear -"

"We'll talk about it later, ok?"

Yandere! Yakuza who walks close behind you. You can catch the smell of his cologne - something woody and pleasantly sharp.

When you slip your card into the ATM, he leans against the wall next to you and pulls out another cigarette. He watches you while he lights it, the flame throwing his cheekbones into sharp relief.

"You got a boyfriend?"

You're genuinely surprised. Your relationship status isn't exactly on your list of things dangerous criminals should be concerned about.

"No. I don't."

He let's the smoke curl up between his teeth.

"Good. Pretty girl like you shouldn't bother with relationships."

"Why not?"

The ATM spits out your cash before he can answer.

He doesn't take the money immediately. Instead, he let's his eyes roam down your body, like he can still see what's underneath your bulky coat.

"You're never gonna pay it off at this rate."

"You're offering me advice? Didn't think that was part of your job."

"Sōde wa arimasen [it isn't]. But what kind of man would I be if I didn't help you out?"

He digs in his inner pocket and you catch a glimpse of the gun holstered under his jacket.

He pulls out a business card and scribbles something at the back of it.

"He hasn't told you, but we've got his passport. He can't leave until he's settled what he owes."

You suck in a sharp breath at that. How much worse could this situation get?

He holds out the card. "Come work for us and maybe we can work out a better deal, yeah?"

You scoff. "Does that deal involve selling my organs?"

He smiles a little at that. "Īe - no. It's easy work. Come by tomorrow and see for yourself."

You look down at the card and the hand offering it. His tattoos peak out of his sleeve, blue-black and twisting in patterns you can't recognise. Better to not offend a gangster, right?

You take the card.

"Iiko [good girl]."

He turns to go, his baseball bat slung over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow hanī [honey]."

He's barely out of sight before you're grabbing your brother's ear and dragging him back to the apartment.

You spend the rest of the night talking to - or more accurately, interrogating - your brother.

"Gambling? What the hell where you thinking?"

"I was drunk, okay?"

You hiss and rub at your temples. And the worst part? The yakuza was right. You can't pay it off. Not without a very well paying job.

His card glares at you from the kitchen table. An easy job, huh?

The address on the card leads you to a hostess club in the middle of the Red Light District.

He isn't going to kidnap you in the middle of the day in the middle of the city, right? Slightly comforted, you make your way into the club.

It's cool and dark, lit by colorful lamps more than anything. You show the card to the bartender and a few minutes later your yakuza is sitting across from you and ordering you both drinks.

Yandere! Yakuza who wears a suit in the slouched, lazy way of a school delinquent. Shirt unbuttoned so you can see the edge his tattoos and the gold chain gleaming at his neck.

He gestures at the bar and the room around you, his cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. "The Family owns this place. And my kyodai manages it."

He studies you while he smokes, eyes dipping to your chest and lingering. "You can work as a hostess here. Make good money and we'll take a cut of it to pay off what your brother owes."

You take a sip of your drink to avoid answering him. The sake leaves a tingle on your lips.

"But I'm not exactly fluent in Japanese. How am I supposed to entertain customers?"

He grins wolfishly at you. "Just wear something tight and you won't have to talk at all."

"Perv," you mutter into your drink.

On the surface, you can't see anything wrong with his offer. It makes perfect sense - the club gets a new girl they barely have to pay and your brother's creditors don't need to keep tracking him down.

But he's a yakuza and you'd be a fool to trust him.

"Fine. I'll work here, try my hardest to learn Japanese and sell drinks."

You hold his gaze. "But I'm gone the second I think you're being shady. Got it?"

Yandere! Yakuza who smiles like he's won the lottery. "Wakatta [got it]."

When you show up later that evening, he's your first customer. He orders you a bottle of champagne and keeps topping up your glass without ever touching his own.

A few drinks in you manage to finally loosen up enough to hold a conversation. He asks you endless questions - about your childhood, your hobbies, the movies you've been watching.

But in return, he dodges any question you throw at him. "Don't ask about my family." "My childhood was boring. You don't want to hear about it." "Hobbies? Does puss-"

"No."

"Then no."

He's surprisingly fun to talk to. And when he gets a call and has to leave you, there's a pang of disappointment that you can't quite mask.

He grins and flicks your forehead. "Don't miss me too much."

When you pick up the bill, you realise he left you a hefty tip. You stare at it and then at his retreating back. Just what is his angle?

Yandere! Yakuza who's back the next day and the one after that. He sprawls in the booth like a spoiled prince, his arms thrown across the headrest and his legs spread.

"Let me teach you Japanese."

You perk up. A native teacher would be so much easier to learn from compared to the dense textbooks you've tried using.

"Repeat after me. Onegaishimasu. It means 'please'."

You try and imitate his intonation. He walks you through a few more common phrases with moderate success.

"Need to work on your accent, but that was decent. Ready to try something longer? Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne [I think you're very handsome]."

"Anato wa...wa totemo hansam... hansamudesu ne."

He smirks at you over the rim of his glass. He seems immensely pleased.

"What does it mean?"

"Just another way to... greet someone. Kinda tricky though, so you should just use it on me."

He spends the rest of the day explaining kanji and grammar. You take notes on the back of a receipt and promise to rewrite them when you get home.

Your shift is practically over when he finally stands to leave.

"Say goodbye like I taught you."

"Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne."

He grins at you again, his voice a bit sweeter when he replies. "Anata mo totemo kireidesu ne [you're pretty too]."

You tilt your head, struggling to understand. You don't recognise the phrase, but he's gone before you can ask what it means.

Yandere! Yakuza who requests you almost everyday. Until the house mother snaps at him to give it a rest, there are other clients who want to talk to you.

He scoffs and throws back his drink, Adam's apple bobbing like he's swallowing down his anger too.

"If they want to talk to her so bad, they should get here earlier. Watashitachiha kono basho o shoyū shite imasu [we own this place]. So go and get me my girl."

When you finally make it to his table, he's back to being all smiles. The only person who notices his jealousy is the house mother and she's far too busy to mention it.

"My head is killing me. Give me a massage please?"

He flops down into your lap before you can say no.

You sigh and run your fingers through his hair, trying to remember where the pressure points are.

Yandere! Yakuza who practically purrs at your touch. When you lift a hand away to take a sip of your water, he barely waits for you to swallow before he's dragging it back.

There's something very strange about having a deadly gangster in your lap. With his eyes closed, you can almost forget just how much he scared you when you first met. Can forget how he still scares you.

He opens his eyes and catches you studying him. He reaches up and catches your hand as you draw away from him. His touch is gentle, softer than you would expect from looking at him.

"Go on a date with me."

You aren't sure if it's an offer or a command. There's something so intimate about the way he looks at you, the club lights carving hollows into his cheeks, eyes dark and sweet.

And God help you, he's so close. Only the thin fabric of your stockings between his skin and yours.

"Okay."

His lips quirk into a half smile, boyishly handsome.

"Good. You'll like it."

By the next evening, you're already regretting your decision. What kind of idiot goes on a date with a yakuza? You blame the alcohol and the closeness of his body and your stupid, stupid hormones for getting you into this.

But when he picks you up, you find yourself smiling. He actually knocks on the apartment door this time and you open it with the full intention of teasing him.

"My brother's landlord-"

Your words die in your throat. You always knew he was handsome but the man waiting for you takes your breath away.

His hair is slicked away from his face and a sparkling cross dangles from one ear. His lazy suits are gone, replaced with a suit that's pressed and tailored. Hell, even his shirt is buttoned up properly.

He looks good. Dangerously good.

He takes you in, eyes lingering at your curves. You swallow and try not to blush. You do your hair and makeup everyday for the club and he's seen you in this dress before, but he looks at you like it's all new to him, like he wants to drink in every inch of you.

You somehow manage to find your voice and it has none of its usual bite. "You look good. Really good."

He smoothes a hand over his hair self consciously. "Arigatō. Shall we go?"

He offers you his arm and you take it, your heart thundering. He opens the car door for you and helps you in like a proper gentleman. You catch a whiff of his cologne - the same woodsy scent from the night you met.

He takes you to a skyscraper restaurant and sits down right next to the window. The city is a sparkling sprawl at your feet.

"I didn't think you'd be into a place like this," you say.

"What? You think I don't got class?" He grins and points his fork at you, "I've got the best damn taste in this whole city."

"Explains why you asked me out then."

"Obviously." He leans forward. "Only the best for my girl, yeah?"

"I'm your girl? Since when?"

"Since..." He makes a show of checking his watch. "Since the night I met you. You just didn't know it yet."

Ah, now that's one way to make a girl fall for you. And despite your better sense, you feel yourself falling.

You can still taste the lingering sweetness of dessert when he walks you back to his car. His leans against the car door and loops his arms around your waist.

"You had fun tonight?"

"Yes. More than I expected honestly."

He pulls you closer to him, softly enough that you can step back at any point. You don't.

"Gonna give me a kiss to say thank you? It's a very important part of our culture."

You clasp your hands together behind his neck.

"You liar."

He grins that boyish half smile of his. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

He doesn't feel like a gangster or a creditor or a customer. In that moment he feels like just a man - someone strong and handsome that you desperately want to kiss.

Your gaze flickers down to his lips and then back to his eyes. You pull gently at his neck and his head dips lower. You stay like that for a moment, lips almost touching. Too nervous to make the final move.

His hands move to cradle your waist and he closes the gap between you.

You pull him closer, your hands slipping from his neck to his jaw. His stubble scrapes your palm and makes your whole body tingle. He tastes of wine and sugar.

When you finally pull away, you draw your thumb across his lower lip. His eyes are half lidded and when he moves, it's with a sluggish reluctance. Like he doesn't want to let go of you.

He keeps one hand on your waist and draws out a stack of cash with the other. When he speaks, his voice is husky.

"How much for tonight?"

"What?"

His draws his hand up your waist to rest against your sternum. Like he wants to dig his hand into your heart.

"How much to take you home?"

A bucket of cold water would have been less shocking. You pull away from him, your mind racing.

God, why are you such an idiot? Of course he only wants to fuck you. He's just a thug, what did you expect?

And worse, you feel like a small part of your heart is breaking. Why be so sweet to you, why go out of his way to spend time with you, if all he wants is a one night stand?

"Are you serious?"

"Obviously. How much do you charge?"

You act without thinking and slap him right across his face.

The sound of it is terribly sharp in the open quite of the parking lot. It leaves your palm stinging. You freeze, terrified of what you've just done.

He doesn't move, his head turned to the side from the force of your slap. Slowly, he touches his fingers to his cheek. His expression is unreadable.

Oh, you're so dead. You just hit a yakuza. A guy who probably breaks faces everyday, who has who knows how many felonies to his name.

Your first instinct is to apologise, say you weren't thinking and that you're so so sorry. You lift your chin and squash down that part of you.

"I'm not for sale."

The quiet stretches out, tense and dangerous. He turns away and opens the car door for you. He doesn't meet your eyes.

"I understand now. Gomen'nasai [I'm sorry]."

The drive home is terribly quiet. You keep expecting him to lash out - hit you or humiliate you for daring to slap him like that.

He doesn't. He just keeps eyes on the road.

When you reach your building, he follows you to the door and rests his hand on the frame above your head. You can feel him behind you, close enough for his breath to tickle the back of your neck.

"I can't buy you."

"No."

"But I want you."

You pull in a shuddering breath. "Earn it."

You shut the door without turning back.

He doesn't show up at the club for the next week. At first you're on edge - what if he gets you fired? Or worse, does something to your brother?

But your boss doesn't mention anything and your brother keeps coming home in one piece. Slowly, you relax. Tell yourself that he's done with you now that you won't give him what he wants. You try and ignore the way it hurts.

When he does finally show up, he's dangerously tipsy. He yanks you out of your booth in the middle of a date and leaves the house mother to bow and apologise to the customer.

You try not to make a scene as he pulls you along behind him. But you look about desperately for any of the other yakuza. Where the hell are they when you need them?

Finally, he drops you in a booth in the corner of the club and collapses across from you. His hair is messier than you've ever seen it and there's a feverish wildness in the way he looks at you.

"Fine. I'm here. Let me earn your love."

You rub your arm and scowl at him. "Your idea of winning me over is to leave a huge bruise on my arm?"

He runs his hands through his hair. "Hell, I don't know. I've never had to win a girl over before."

"Yeah right. I've seen the girls you go out with. There's no shortage of women in your life."

He looks you in the eye. "Bought and paid for." He gestures at the table and at you. "Not like this. Not like you."

That gives you pause. It makes sense. Gangsters don't exactly have the time to go on Sunday morning brunch dates or meet the family.

"So why not just pay someone else?"

You don't say it out loud but the rest of your question is clear. Why me?

"I...I don't want to. Setsumei suru no wa totemo muzukashīdesu [It's so hard to explain]. But I don't want anyone else."

A confession from a yakuza was not at all on your list on fun and lighthearted tourist activities. You're not entirely sure how to deal with it.

Your sense is screaming at you to be smart. And when is dating a criminal ever smart? You're supposed to get yourself and your brother away from the underworld, not get roped deeper in. And what happens if you want to break up? When has a man with a gun and too many scars ever taken a heartbreak well?

And yet...

You want him. Stupidly, against all sense, you want to be with him. He's dangerous. He probably only wants to fuck you. He has too much power over your life. He might never let you leave him.

And still you want him.

You take a deep breath. "Come over tonight and I'll cook you something. And if my cooking doesn't change your mind then... then we can talk about it."

He smiles at you and the wild look in his eye seems to finally dim.

"Anata ga watashi o oidasou to shite mo dekinakatta [Baby, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried]."

You weren't lying when you said you were a terrible cook. When he finally arrives, the rice is somehow both burnt and slightly undercooked and your curry is severely under-salted.

You scrunch your nose when you take a bite. "This is awful."

"You cooked it." He takes another bite. "And I hate to say it, but I've had worse."

You push your bowl away and mutter, "I didn't think rice could be so complicated. I followed the instructions and everything."

He takes another bite. "I can make decent rice. And udon."

"So between the two of us, there's only one good cook? Shameful."

He adds some salt to his bowl. "Neither of us ever has the time to cook anyway, so I don't know why you're surprised."

You shake your head and watch him. He's halfway through your abysmal culinary concoction and somehow not green in the face.

"You never talk about yourself," you tell him.

He avoids your eyes. "I'm not that interesting."

"But I am?"

"Yes." There's a quiet fierceness to his answer that makes your heart stutter.

"Tell me a secret about yourself."

It's his turn to study you. "A secret."

"That's what I said."

He considers you for a long moment before reaching up and undoing his shirt buttons. He turns his back to you and let's his shirt fall away.

You gasp. His tattoo covers his entire back. It's every bit as intricate as you suspected - there's lotus flowers between his shoulder blades and a spider inked below his ribcage.

But it's the snake that takes up most of the space. It curls and unwinds across his back, every scale painstakingly inked. It's hissing mouth rests on his shoulder blade, opposite his heart.

He flinches when you touch him, but doesn't ask you to stop. You run your fingertips up his back, tracing the snakes coiling body.

"It's incredible."

He doesn't answer you. Eventually your fingers come to rest on his neck.

He reaches back and takes hold of your wrist. He draws it forward and tilts his head to press a kiss against your pulse. You wonder if he can feel the way your heart jumps when he touches you.

"Do you want to know the real secret? I go home at night and lie awake thinking about you."

You lean forward and rest your forehead against his bare back. "What do you think about?"

He inhales sharply. "Your voice... your lips... your body."

You laugh a little and your warm breath on his skin makes him shiver. "You're shameless."

"Mattaku hajishirazuna [totally shameless]."

You tilt his head towards you and kiss his cheek.

You can feel him smile against your lips. When you pull away, he turns to you and cups your jaw.

Your Japanese has gotten better, but you don't understand what he whispers before he kisses you.

"Watashi Kazu anata ni koiwoshiteiru, soshite watashi wa tomaranai [I'm falling in love with you and I can't stop]."

He presses his lips against yours, so much hungrier this time. His hand slips from your cheek to the nape of your neck to pull you closer to him.

"My girl, my pretty girl. Hanaretakute mo hanare rarenakatta [I couldn't let you go even if I wanted to]."

He presses hot kisses against your throat. His grip on your neck almost painfully tight.

"Hitsuyōniōjite, anata no kyōdai ni wa nan-nen mo shakkin o showa seru koto ni narudeshou [gonna keep your brother in debt for years if I have to]."

The rest of his sentence is little more than a growl. "Nanrakano hōhō de anata ni watashi o aishite morau tsumoridesu [gonna make you love me back one way or another]."

The one downside of courting a yakuza is not understanding everything he says. But maybe it's safer that way.

[somnoir]

My father's secretary

Danny Fenton did not expect to be secretary material but after 7 years of being a hero and having Jazz as his elder sister, he was damn good at it. He needed a job, he knew that, and Wayne Enterprises was willing to hire a 21 year old taking online college classes for aerospace engineering.

And he was fucking thankful for that cause Mr. Wayne was pretty neat and bought him good food and coffee whenever he looked out of it. Half his family were already in Gotham with only his parents in Amity. They were finally reformed and now their research finally advocated for the rights of ghosts and spread awareness on their culture. Good for them.

Jazz and Dante were in Arkham working as a psychologist and guard. Elle was still in school, enrolled into Gotham Academy once Vlad insisted on paying her tuition. To be fair, he was paying for Danny's tuition too.

But back to his secretary duties. His boss was Bruce Wayne, yes, but he did often work with the man's son and the current CEO. Tim was nice and had the same caffeine addiction as him. (Jazz highly discouraged this friendship in case they both made a monstrosity of coffee and energy drinks.)

But Mr. Wayne was the best. He was rather clumsy and a bit airheaded but he was the best fucking boss he could ever ask for. The man's paternal instincts were on point and Danny was almost intimidated when the man started handing him extra cash whenever Danny came to the office looking more tired than usual. When that failed, Mr. Wayne resorted to giving him more material things.

Now, he doesn't want to take advantage of this ridiculously kind man with a lack of self preservation (God, was this what Jazz felt about him?). But Mr. Wayne had given him this amazing coffee maker and then proceeded to give Danny the best toaster ever. And Danny has always been known to resolutely be against Billionaires adopting him. But Mr. Wayne?

Danny had honed his back talking skills to perfection to talk down arrogant elites that kept demanding for his boss. He mastered his customer service voice and that condescending look he saw the receptionists give people like they were tantruming toddlers. Danny was ready to fight for that man (Vlad was choking somewhere as the Fentons worriedly look at him).

Jason has heard about Danny Fenton a couple of times. Tim, Dick, and Bruce had mentioned him a lot. Bruce's new secretary that looked like he'd woken up from a coma and was comparable to a grumpy cat on his best days. He's seen the guy a couple times, noticed how he was almost as tall as Jason. Honestly, he kinda looked like a twig (but then that was because of Danny's suit that he made sure didn't completely fit him).

Seriously. Danny was willing to fucking fight anyone and everyone for Bruce Wayne.

The guy was strange. Very strange. Especially when the pits seemed to either become frantic or calm whenever he was around. It depended on the situation really, but mostly the pits grew calmer around Fenton. Like a cat that finally saw its favorite person. It was so weird.

He was drawn to Fenton, sometimes finding himself walking towards the man before he snaps out of it.

It's on this day where Danny was by Bruce's side, a stylus and tablet in hand. He was furiously tapping away at his phone, cursing under his breath about bothersome and stuck up cialiteses.

"Jason!" Bruce happily greets, "Don't mind Danny for a bit. He's telling of some investors for trying to meddle with the company. Tim is too sleep deprived to handle it."

"Where is Tim?"

"Danny threatened to throw the company's coffee maker out the window if he doesn't take a nap." Bruce chuckles, glancing fondly at his fiesty secretary. "Danny?"

"Give me a minute, Mr. Wayne. Some people are trying to squeeze into your schedule when I specifically told them that they can't." Danny says, clearly irritated but looks at Bruce with an apologetic gaze. "No—Mr. Luthor, neither Mr. Drake nor Mr. Wayne are available on that day—"

And it dissolved into Danny telling of what Jason assumes was Lex Luthor to stop his attempts. In other words, corporate for Fuck off.

"He's good, isn't he?" Jason humms as he follows Bruce down the hall, glancing at the tired employees that looked utterly exhausted and horrifically motivated. "Looks like adoption bait."

"Unfortunately, Danny is a very much against Billionaires adopting him. His godfather is one and has attempted multiple times." Bruce sighs, feigning a sorrowful look as he sends Danny a small pout. "What did you do when he tried the fifth time again?"

"I blew up his car, Mr. Wayne." Danny nonchalantly says, "But that only made him want to adopt me more."

Jason blinks, baffled before he's laughing at the utter absurdity of the situation.

"That sounds similar to—"

Gunshots tore through the air as people immediately screamed. At the entrance of the building was the Joker in all his insanity, guns blazing. Jason froze, sucking in a deep breath as he took one step back. They weren't in costume, they weren't the Red Hood and Batman in that moment.

"Nightwing, Robin, and Spoiler are on their way." Oracle says through the comms but that doesn't comfort him in the slightest.

It's chaos in moments and people are ducking their heads to avoid the bullets. Jason and Bruce look right at each other, taking cover as bullets ruin the walls and furniture. But Bruce is dragged from his spot, pulled towards the Joker who laughs maniacally as he pressed a gun against Bruce's head.

"Mr. Wayne!" Many people yell as they all stared in horror as the Joker threatens Gotham's beloved prince.

Jason immediately remembers an explosion and a crowbar.

(Reminder, Danny Fenton was very much ready to go to war for Bruce Wayne).

A tablet and a stylus was suddenly shoved into his arms. Jason blinks, turning to Danny who tugs at his tie and rummages through the counter for something. The Joker sees this, clearly irritated.

"You! Eyes on me!" The Joker practically demands, hysterical that not everyone was paying attention.

Danny apparently doesn't give a damn before looking the Joker straight in the eye.

"Eyes in me." Danny repeats.

A second later something was thrown and a cutter was cutting through the Joker's eye.

Jason gaped at the seemingly harmless secretary, unable to comprehend that this man had just thrown a fucking cutter into the Joker's eye.

Bruce is set free.

Everyone is frozen in place.

Everyone watched as Bruce Wayne's tired and overworked secretary beats the shit out of the Joker, saying something about how he wasn't going to lose a good boss.

No one particularly knows what to do once Danny pulls out the cutter with the Jokers blood and... Fucking shit, was that his eyeball?!

Dick and Damian arrived at some point, also too shocked to do anything. When Danny was done and satisfied, with the Joker still alive, groaning and whimpering from the pain that Danny inflicted.

As if he hadn't almost killed the Joker, Danny turns to them with a tired smile.

"Mr. Wayne, I implore you not to die. I can't lose the best boss that I've had." He plainly says and takes the tablet and stylus back from Jason.

Jason thinks he might just marry this feral man.

Yeah.

Yeah, he was definitely going to marry Danny Fenton.

Part 2 | Masterpost

[osaemu]

JJK MEN: BABY, CAN YOU CALL ME BACK?

✩ ‧ ˚. [ GOJO, TOJI, GETO ] your boyfriend's gone for work, and you gotta convince him to come back home over the phone... NSFW

contents: fem!reader. phone sex, voice kink, video taking, dick pics, blah blah blah. you can probably guess the rest. not proofread + mostly written while i was half-asleep. 2.3k words.

★ ━ SATORU GOJO

“baby, i miss you,” satoru mumbles, voice soft and sleepy from the other end of the phone. you hear the sound of sheets rustling against his phone’s microphone as he rolls over, groaning softly. “i can’t wait to come home to you.”

you plop down on your bed and turn your phone on speaker as you rest your back against the headboard, stifling a yawn before you reply. “me too… it’s so lonely without you here.”

“i know,” satoru says, and even though it’s not a video call, you’re absolutely certain he’s grinning like the cocky idiot he is. “tell me ‘bout your day, sweetheart. wanna know what you’ve been doing without me.”

you roll your eyes and smile, checking your nails as you reply. “nothing much, it’s kinda boring without you here.”

“tell me more,” satoru murmurs, and he thinks that he’s so lucky you two aren’t on a facetime call, because his hand is slipping down to the waistband of his pants and he’s tugging them off, releasing his already-hardened dick. “i wanna know everything.”

you don’t think much of the way satoru’s breathing has gotten noticeably choppier as you ramble about the little things that’ve happened in your day so far—after all, how could you know that he’s stroking himself to the sound of your voice?

“so, yeah, that’s basically everything,” you finish, exhaling softly. the moment you stop talking, you hear the soft groans that satoru’s been fighting to hide the whole time, and suddenly, it clicks. “wait, satoru, have you been fucking yourself the whole ti—”

“maybe,” your boyfriend replies instantly, pausing and taking a long, unsteady breath before he continues, “wanna join me?” you don’t reply immediately, but soon, his voice turns pleading. “c’mon, baby, missin’ you so much… lemme hear you, sweet girl. help your boyfriend out, pleeea—” 

“okay, okay,” you give in, reaching down and tugging off your shorts. a second later, your panties are discarded as well, and your fingers start to circle your clit at the sound of satoru’s voice.

“mm, you touching yourself, baby?” satoru breathes, hand still wrapped around his dick. you hum in agreement, and the hand holding your phone grows tighter the faster your circles get. satoru clicks his tongue after a couple seconds, and adds, “don’t hold back, i wanna hear you.”

“okay,” you mumble, missing his familiar touch now more than ever. “i miss you so much, ‘toru,” you whisper, voice already a little shaky from your own fingers. but it still isn’t enough to push you over the edge—you both know that only satoru has the skill to do that.

“i know you do,” satoru teases, an amused lilt in his voice. “bet those pretty hands of yours couldn’t make ya cum half as fast as i could, yeah?”

he’s right, but it doesn’t stop you from trying—god, you wish your boyfriend were here and inside of you, but for now, his voice is all that you have. “baby, these past couple days, all i could—fuck, all i could think about was that pretty pussy of yours,” satoru chokes out, hand moving up and down the length of his dick faster. “so tight f’me, all just for me,” he mumbles, throwing his head back and gritting his teeth.

“s-satoru, i need you,” you mewl out, legs starting to tremble just at the thought of him. “need your dick inside of me, plea—”

“can’t do that, princess,” satoru sighs, groaning at the sound of your desperate request. “wish i could, though.. but we gotta wait for a couple days, fuck.”

you stop rubbing your clit and instead slip two fingers inside your cunt, wrist shaking at you pump your fingers up and down at his request. “s’ not as good as you, ‘toru,” you whine, hips unconsciously rocking against your hand. “come home soon, please, can’t wait for that long—”

satoru laughs breathily and moans shamelessly into his phone, mumbling something about work or a mission or something—but you don’t really catch the details, too occupied with fucking yourself to the thought of your boyfriend. “so impatient, aren’t ya?” satoru exhales, thrusting into his own fist and fantasizing about your warm, tight cunt instead. “fuck, baby, miss you and your cunt so fuckin’ bad—”

“then come home, ‘toru,” you plead, hardly able to choke out your words coherently. “please, satoru, i need you here—”

your boyfriend cuts you off with a series of porn-worthy groans, mixing in your name wherever he can as he cums into his hand. it’s not satisfying, and it doesn’t feel half as good as it would if he were fucking your pussy instead. so, after a couple seconds, he mumbles, “whatever you say, princess, i’ll be there by tomorrow.” 

★ ━ TOJI FUSHIGURO

“you’re an asshole,” you mutter into your phone. toji only scoffs in reply, a disbelieving edge to his voice. “toji, listen to me—”

“i’m listenin’, princess,” toji grumbles. “yeah, i know i said i’d be home by tonight, but somethin’ came up. s’ not my fault i’m surrounded by idiots.” and he makes no effort of hiding his disdain at your stubbornness—some things were just out of his control, including how long it took for most of his missions to get completed.

“don’t call me that,” you snap, climbing into your bed and pulling a pillow onto your lap. toji sighs, and it’s a long, lengthy exhale that surely has to be exaggerated. “fuck you, toji, you promised you’d be home by tonight.” 

your boyfriend laughs incredulously into his phone, chortling for a good twenty seconds before he replies, “i don’t remember promising anything, n’ what do ya need me home for anyways? what’s so fuckin’ important, huh?”

well, there’s no way you’re telling him the real reason you want him home so badly—he’d just laugh at you and your desperation for him. but honestly, after going for more than a week without his dick, you’re really fucking close to telling him that. instead, you reply, “maybe i just miss my boyfriend.”

“more like you just want dick, don’t ya, pretty?”

toji sees right through your pitiful lies—he always does. you don’t respond for a long while, and your boyfriend fills up the silence by laughing again. “shoulda just said so. i missed fuckin’ that tight cunt of yours too, idiot.”

“so will you come home now?”

“mm, you gotta convince me.”

“how?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face. 

“show me jus’ how much you miss me, and maybe i’ll consider comin’ back early if you can prove it to me,” toji says, and you can hear the smile in his voice as your screen lights up with a request to facetime. 

you accept, and a second later, your boyfriend’s face fills up your screen. his dark eyes are squinted from the sudden light, but the corners of his lips curl upwards when he sees you. “hey, princess.”

“hey, asshole.”

“you want to get fucked tomorrow night or not?” he drawls, a lazy smile playing on his face when that shuts you up. “now c’mon, let’s see that pussy. open wide f’me.”

you mutter something about him being the worst boyfriend ever before you tug down the waistband of your panties, exposing your neglected, puffy cunt. your clothes are quickly discarded somewhere, allowing you to angle your phone downwards and show toji what he’s missing.

“oh, fuckin’ hell,” toji mutters, navy eyes fixed on your cunt as you slip two fingers inside and start pumping them in and out of your hole. the dim lighting of your room bounces off the slick already coating your cunt, making it look wetter than ever to toji—and you can practically see the longing in his eyes as he watches you fuck yourself.

“please, toji,” you mumble, spreading your legs even wider to show off your pussy to him. “miss you so much, please—fuck, please come home,” you plead, doing your best to put on a show for him. at this point, you’re so touch starved that you’d do anything to get him back—anything to satisfy you, since your own fingers can’t even give you half the pleasure toji can.

“so desperate, aren’t ya?” toji tuts, eying you with interest. “tch, pathetic…”

you whine in response to his words, hips rolling against your own hand as you futilely try to convince your head that it’s a dick in between your legs and not your own fingers. “fuck, toji, i’ll do anythin—”

“anything?” he instantly cuts you off, cocking an eyebrow as if he’s intrigued. you nod desperately, almost willing to do anything and everything for him if it meant he could fill up the empty spot in between your thighs. “you promise?”

“y-yeah, anything,” you whimper, throwing your head back as your hand starts to grow sore. 

toji hums in approval, and a moment later, he replies, “alright then. i’ll head back tomorrow mornin’, but you’re getting fucked for the whole night after. n’ i don’t wanna hear any of that ‘toji, it’s too much!’ bullshit, m’kay?” he snaps, mimicking your voice by raising his pitch two octaves. 

“okay, i promise,” you choke out, and the second the words leave your lips, toji hangs up.

asshole.

★ ━ SUGURU GETO

“suguru, i miss you,” you mumble into your phone, burying your face into the blankets wrapped around your shoulders. usually, it’s rare for you to feel cold within your bedroom—suguru’s presence seems to make everything warmer. but right now, he’s not here, and even your own room feels barren without his comforting aura. “it’s so empty here without you…” 

“is it, now?” suguru replies coyly from the other end of the call. he’s at some sort of meeting right now, but apparently, he’s on his break—which is good, because you imagine that it might be a little embarrassing for him to take this call if he were in the middle of the meeting. “i miss you too, baby. you and that pretty pussy of yours, heh.”

“sugu—”

your boyfriend interrupts you with a soft, teasing laugh, lowering his voice when he adds, “do you want to know what i’d do to you if i was with you right now?”

you swallow back the “yes” you so desperately want to say, instead whispering, “aren’t you in public?”

“nah, i’m in the bathroom right now,” suguru clarifies. “now c’mon, answer the question.”

“...yeah,” you admit. it’s been over a week since you last had any sort of sexual contact with suguru—you’ll take what you can get.

your boyfriend laughs again, sultry voice pouring out your phone’s speakers and straight into your throbbing cunt when he starts describing—in great detail—the things he would do to you if he was on top of you right now.

“...and then, i would flip you over and fuck you face-down ass-up for hours,” suguru adds casually, enjoying the sounds of your muffled moans—you’re trying so hard to hide them, but little do you know that it’s only too obvious to suguru. 

two of your fingers are circling your clit as suguru speaks, and your own hand is clasped over your mouth as you struggle to hide the effects of suguru’s voice on you—and he just keeps talking.

“yeah, and when i finally let you cum all over my dick, i’d just keep going,” suguru cooes, tempted to pull down his pants and take care of his own boner right then and there. but unlike you, your boyfriend has some ounce of resilience, and as he checks the time on his phone, he realizes that he has to get back to his meeting soon anyways.

“suguru—” you moan, unable to stifle your little whimpers any longer. “wan’ you so bad, please—”

“silly girl, what do you mean, you want me so bad?” suguru says amusedly. “i’m already yours, aren’t i?”

“you know what i mean,” you huff, rocking your hips against your fingers in an attempt to force yourself to cum. but unfortunately, ever since you started fucking with suguru, your own fingers aren’t good enough—even if you could hypothetically make yourself orgasm, it wouldn’t give you even a fraction of the pleasure your boyfriend could. “please, sugu, i wanna see you.”

and just like that, any remaining self-restraint suguru has snaps—the sound of you begging is enough to make him do anything in the world.

suguru hastily unzips his pants, releasing his dripping dick. he runs his thumb over the leaking tip, smearing the pre-cum all over its head. “fuck, baby, i’m at work right now,” he mutters into his phone, rolling his eyes affectionately when he hears you giggle. “one pic. then i’m going back to my meeting.”

“m’kay!” you agree, pulling the phone away from your ear and turning it on speaker as you eagerly wait for the pictures to send.

suguru holds up his phone and snaps a picture of his dick resting in his palm, stroking it with that hand and sending you the image with the other. “alright, sweetheart, gotta get back to work,” suguru sighs, unable to get his boner to settle down—he figures the only way it’ll happen is if he ends the call, which he really needs to do.

“aw, do you have to?”

“yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he mutters, removing the phone from his ear to end the call.

“wait, what’re you sending me—oh, fuck, you’re the worst,” suguru groans when he clicks the notification and sees a video of what you’re doing to yourself right now—it’s a five second video of you pumping your fingers in and out of your puffy cunt to his voice, and there goes his resolve to stay at work.

“i fuckin’ hate you, baby… see you in a couple hours.”

[froggibus]

MORE WADE AND LOGAN PLSSSSS CAN WE GET THEM (POLY) DATING A SHORT READER HCS??? TYYYY

Short! S/O - Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson

Pairing: Logan Howlett x short! gn! reader x Wade Wilson

Genre: fluff

CW: poly relationship, teasing, short jokes, Logan picks us up, protective boys, size diff

| Ryan Reynolds & Hugh Jackman are both 6’2 so I am gonna go off of that (i know Logan is short in the comics but just let me dream pls :,) |

YES YES OF COURSE!!! there’s almost nothing I love more than writing a short/small reader cause I myself am not short :,) but it’s nice to pretend. god both of them are so tall I just wanna stand between them & feel safe ^^ thank you so much for the req!!

they’re such bullies i’m so sorry

expect a TON of short jokes (mostly Wade) 

and expect them to parry anything you say with “you’re short” (mostly Logan)

you will always be their arm rest, you have no say in it

standing in line? Logan’s leaning his arm on your shoulder. 

at a party? Wade’s propping himself up on the top of your head 

Logan LOVES how short you are too and manhandles you at any opportunity 

if you’re being a brat, he won’t hesitate to remind you that he is bigger than you

whether that’s him throwing you over his shoulder or just standing real close to you so you can see the height difference up close & personal 

as soon as Wade sees Logan in, he can’t help himself—he’ll slide up on your other side and smush you between the two of them 

they’re such teases they’ll talk about you like you’re not completely stuck between them

“nice weather we’re having, hey?”

“oh yeah, real nice bub”

they’ll keep chatting until you’re whining and pushing against them to just get out 

Wade LOVES putting things on shelves too high for you to reach just so he can watch you struggle 

and Logan the absolute menace will lean against the wall with his arms crossed and watch you hop to reach your phone charger 

they’ll sit there and watch you struggle until you turn on them with sad eyes and suddenly they’re racing to get it down for you 

these mfs are so protective they will not leave your side whenever you go to parties/the bar

one of them is glued to you 24/7 (even when they’re not physically with you, they’re watching you too) 

and anyone in the general area (07) knows not to fuck with you

on especially hard days, your size is just what they need 

coming home from fighting crazy strong villains & mutants to their cute short s/o? nothing better in the whole world

masterlist

if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way!! likes, comments & rbs are always appreciated ^^

[astralleywright]

i have made the "orym read theory" joke like three times today alone but. i think it would genuinely be very helpful for him to develop an overarching philosophy through which to understand the world and the structure of power, because the simplistic "nice guy" approach to morality has utterly failed him in this moment.

[writersdrug]

waitress reader’s reaction to bartender Ghost getting hit on by someone they think is more attractive?

Oh, she would be so so jealous.

You're wiping down your table, standing on your tippy-toes to reach the middle of the high-top, when you spot the receipt tucked in between the sugars and the pepper. Another successful, big tip, and you're tucking your rag into your server apron and jogging across the floor to share your victory with Simon - when you spot her.

She's sitting at the bar; perfect, blonde waves of her hair cascading down her upper back. She's stylish, wearing a green, corduroy jacket and skinny jeans, wedges on her perfectly manicured feet. Her ankles are crossed politely on the edge of the barstool, her back is arched with perfect posture, and you just know her boobs are a ten out of ten, even though you're facing her back. She's definetly taller than you, you can see that while she's sitting down.

You're so jealous you're probably steaming - and the worst part about it is Ghost. He's not giving her the gruff, unbothered attitude he usually gives everyone at the bar - far from it. He's leaning back against the liquor shelf, eyes crinkled in what you can only assume is a flirtatious smile, hands gripping the counter to flex those goddam Greek-god muscles. He listens to her as she prattles on, laughing at everything and anything he has to say (he just asked if she needed more napkins. Why the fuck is that so funny?!)

Truthfully, he's over this chick. He's the same as you, playing up his charm to keep those tips rolling in - but this girl is exhausting. Always laughing, kinda daft, talks like she's the only woman on the planet... his muscles are tense as he fights the urge to throw his rag at her, he's grimacing behind his mask, teeth clenching to hold back an annoyed groan and god does she ever shut the fuck up-

He notices you, standing in the middle of the restaurant floor, pen tucked into your hair, with flyaways sprouting from your scalp like fireworks, chin slightly jutted out in a pout. Your hands are balled into fists at your sides - you're choking your notepad to death, and you have the nastiest, most adorable look on your face that Simon's ever had the pleasure of seeing.

He scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. "Doin' alright, luv?"

You blink at him, and he has to hold back a snort. The girl turns around to you - great. She's hot, too.

"Oh- hey..." she grabs her ramekin from her dish and holds it out to you. "Is there more ketchup?"

You glare at her for a few moments, not bothering to hide your distaste for her. Simon's about to get it himself, but you snatch the ramekin from her and storm past the kitchen door with a "lemme see."

Ghost furrows his brow at your irate behavior. He wonders if one of the customers gave you a hard time; he politely excuses himself from the woman (thank fuck, she's getting exhausting) and goes to check on you in the kitchen.

"-ye need a feckin' wot now?!"

"I need you to fill a ramekin with half ketchup and half tobasco!"

"Ye got hot sauce oan all th' bloody tables!"

"I need you to do it!"

Ghost chuckles to himself, putting the pieces together. He isn't blind - he recognizes that green-eyed monster anywhere, lord knows he's felt it too. Makes his chest ouff up a bit, seeing you get all ruffled and grumpy over him. It also makes him feel a bit better about fussing over you, when his patrons try to win you over. Guess we both have double standards.

You walk back out, smiling at the woman and handing her the ramekin back. "You got the last of the ketchup! Enjoy!" And, with a cheeky grin, you walk back off to tend to your tables.

She looks at Simon and he shrugs. "Looks like ya got lucky."

[katz-chow]

sorry sex with simon

warnings: pnv, fem!reader, fluffy, edging/denial, msub, fsoftdom

simon doesn't know how to apologize besides throwing himself into your mercy. he loves you and can't think of any other way to express to you how never means to hurt you, how everything he does is to make sure you're comfortable and taken care of.

even after this stupid little argument that he had with you, he didn't even know why he was fighting. he just realized too late when he saw tears form in your eyes and your feet stomping off into your shared bedroom.

so here is his penance, his apology: giving you soft kisses on your shoulder as his arms hold you up over his cock.you whine and groan as his cock slips in and out of your dripping pussy. he didn't want to hurt you and he didn't want to make you feel any more discomfort so he, in turn, used more lube than he normally would. the sounds of skin slapping skin normally would have made you blush in embarrassment and cause you to curl up into him. this time around, you couldn't care less, the way he's making you feel was a clear juxtaposition to how to feel just an hour before.

you feel his breath, heavy and hot in the crook of your neck, you pussy pulses around him and over your moans, he gives you one in return. his tongue licks and sucks on your shoulder gently, "m' sorry baby...shouldn't have said that..."

you whine and wrap your arms around his neck and his back, your tits pressed against his chest, "can we...ah- can we not..." you suck in a breath, "do this right now, si? when you're in me?"

he mumbles something you can't process or hear as one of his arms unravels and goes to rub tight circles around your clit. your back arches into his touch and a loud groan of his name rings out.

"wanna show you...how sorry i am.." he pants as his dick throbs inside of you, so so close to cumming, fill you up in his sticky release. the snap of his hip dials down into a roll. he hums as he feels your body start to tense up as the tension builds in your lower stomach.

crescent indents form in his back as your nails dig in from the pleasure he's able to give you, the amount of bliss 10x as strong from the lack of such a euphoric feeling you've been feeling. his thumb rubs your aching clit just a bit harder and your groans turned into a cacophony of whimpers and high pitched squeals as your orgasm runs through you.

simon feels your body tensing up in his arms, and damn does his cock feel it too. the way your cushiony walls pulsate and clamp dowm on him, god he was hard, it was unbearable. he wanted to cum so fucking badly, been wanting to put a load in you for half an hour now but he won't let himself. he said he was showing you how sorry he was, and that's exactly what he's doing.

your breathing steadies itself and you curl up closer to him, resting your face onto the top of his head, smelling in his yours shampoo. your whines become hiccups as your high dies down, overwhelmed and tired.

"i'm sorry lovie..." he begins, his hand slipping out from between your legs and his hips start to roll his cock in and out of your raw pussy. you groaned and tense up at the overstimulation, clinging onto him.

he turns off his brain as you help him, pulling your hips up and down. he lets out a breathy moan and holds you closer, snapping his throbbing cock inyo your harder, faster. his lips on your neck as he prays to you a mantra.

"m'sorry..so sorry, lovie..." simon's close he can feel it, he just needs two words from you, that's it. he needs you to let him cum, god-seeing you sad is punishment enough, mixed with the pain of his tight balls and overly sensitive cock makes him a brainless mush.

he couldn't take it anymore as he pounds into you, mumbling messily into your ear, your scent overwhelming him- you overwhelming him. "m'sorry m'sorry...so sorry. m'sorry sorrysorrysorry...."

"it's okay, si...it's okay." god, that's all he needs as his prayers to you were answered, his mantra stops with a restrained moan, quickly turning into whimpers like a hurt puppy as you feel his thick cum fill you, dripping down his shaft.

his arms loosen the grip he has on you and you slide down his dick just a bit and he bites into your shoulder, the friction making him overwhelmed. the two of you sit like that for a bit, leaning on each other to stay upright. you don't even think simon had anything to think about.

"you okay?" you ask him, grounding him from his headless space that he had slipped to, dependent on you for everything.

you feel him nod and his arms lift you up, pulling out of you. he gives you a gentle kiss on your lips and your hands find his cheeks, wiping away his tears. "m' really sorry.."

"i know, baby...i know.." you assure him and he lays back onto the headboard.

simon riley would gladly give up his whole being for you, and luckily for him, you'll always accept it, holding him together until he stitch himself up again.

master list | letter box | main directory

stop by the letter box!

[babyleostuff]

passenger princess(es)

𝜗𝜚 fluff, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 idol!seungcheol x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 wc: 894

・ ❥ ・ there is nothing that could stop cheol from taking care of his passenger princess(es)

„hey baby, can you pass me the water bottle?” seungcheol let go of the wheel, so he could grab the bottle from you, not tearing his eyes from the road for a second. 

cheol was a great driver, excellent even in his humble opinion - he has never gotten a ticket in his life, and people told him on multiple occasions how safe they felt with him behind the wheel. he was also very much aware of how hot he looked driving, something he often used against you. with the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up (which accentuated his yummy biceps even more), the expensive watch around his wrist and, for dessert, his other hand resting on your thigh - you had no other way out than to totally thirst over your unfairly sexy boyfriend.

there were times when you found yourself staring at him with no shame, he was that hot. not that seungcheol cared, if he did he wouldn’t flex his biceps on purpose while grabbing the wheel. 

but while he was (obviously) very careful while driving, it seemed that his protective instincts kicked in on a higher level when you were sitting next to him. 

that’s why when you didn’t answer him, or gave him the bottle, he made sure to grab the wheel with both of his hands before throwing a glance at you. 

„my love, did you h-,” words stuck in his throat when he saw your closed eyes and your head resting against the window. cheol knew that sooner or later you would fall asleep anyway, no matter how hard you insisted on not sleeping. “i want to keep you company,” you pouted angrily, and grabbed the AUX, “don’t want you to feel lonely.” it was on the tip of cheol's tongue that there was no chance he would feel lonely, even if you were sleeping. not to mention your little white fluff ball in the backseat that always kept him company. 

„you see, told you mommy would fall asleep,” he laughed, looking at your precious baby in the rearview mirror. kkuma seemed to have the best time looking at the passing cars, barking at some of them, and wagging her tail at others. 

seungcheol sighed with a smile, as he grabbed your hand that was resting on your tummy. „ah, what am i going to do with you, my silly girls.” 

to be honest - he couldn't have been more content. you spent the whole day together on the beach, with kkuma running into the waves (she ended up looking like a wet mop), eating food from the seaside food stalls, walking along the shore, and finally ending the day with a swim together. days off were the best. 

suddenly, his daydream was cut short when he felt you shiver. cheol wouldn’t have been that worried (you sometimes got those shivers in your sleep, which he always found really cute), but you grabbed his hand tighter, as if you were searching for more body heat. he frowned as he ran his hand over your arm, feeling the goosebumps on your skin. 

„why didn’t you just tell me you were cold,” he muttered, half annoyed, and half worried. your hair was still wet, and your clothes damp after you put them over your swimsuit, so if the AC was too low you could get sick - something seungcheol wouldn’t let happen, even if it meant he’d have to fight the illness himself. 

fortunately, there was a gas station a few kilometers away.

he parked right next to a small field of grass so he could also let kkuma out for a moment, and opened the trunk in search of a blanket he could cover you with. cheol also found his sweater and decided that two layers wouldn’t hurt. 

to avoid any neck or back cramps, seungcheol gently repositioned you in your seat so as not to wake you up, but still let you sleep peacefully without straining any muscles. technically he could just turn the heating on, but he just let you freeze for the past god knows how many minutes - he had to bundle you up. „my pretty girl,” he stroked your cheek, leaning in to kiss your nose, before covering you with the sweater. 

„c-cheollie?” you suddenly mumbled, and raised your hand to rub your eyes. your boyfriend couldn’t help but laugh at your slightly confused expression.  

„i pulled over, baby,” he said softly. „you were sleeping and you were clearly freezing, which by the way, please let me know next time if you're cold, so i stopped to cover you up.” 

you looked at him with big, sleepy eyes like you were still trying to figure out which planet you were on - you were clearly still too tired to understand. „’s okay, go back to sleep.” 

some people were afraid of sleeping in cars, after all, there were so many situations that could lead to a catastrophe - what if the driver fell asleep or did not notice the approaching vehicle? 

but you were not scared at all, not in the slightest. if you had to pick one person on earth that made you feel the safest, you’d pick choi seungcheol without a hesitation. in a car or not - you knew he’d protect you no matter what. 

that's why, without thinking, you nodded and closed your eyes, falling back asleep.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot 

[kurooh]

— SPELLBOUND ! . . geto suguru

⊹₊˚. while he’s out on a mission, suguru absorbs a special cursed spirit.

☆☆ 18+ content (mdni), fem! reader, unprotected sex, creampies, breeding, squirting, 1 face slap, slight exhibitionism, reader works in an office, NOT proofread..

all he can do is run faster through the hallways of your workplace, heels hitting the floor rather roughly as suguru increases his pace. dark hair that’s usually bound in a neat bun and resting against his shoulders is currently tousled, sticking to his sweaty face. god, he’d been pulling his hair so much he made himself look like he’d lost a fight with a leaf blower.

security had initially been after him when he raced through the turnstiles in the lobby, but he’d been faster as he made it onto the elevator. ordinarily, suguru would’ve felt badly for causing such a scene, but this couldn’t be helped.

he’d been out on a mission, tracking a special grade cursed spirit in the depths of the city. according to some intel garnered through extensive monitoring of the area, he’d come to learn that this cursed spirit wasn’t just any cursed spirit…

this was some kind of humanoid curse that couldn’t be wrangled by local sorcerers and had even slipped up some sent over from jujutsu high. naturally, suguru had to get ahold of the curse and add it to his collection of special grades. now, he’d heard a few embarrassed testimonies about the curse’s technique impacting bodies and minds for a day or so.

suguru hadn’t expected the fight for submission to go as fast as it did, and he certainly didn’t expect the sudden surge of lust throughout his whole body the second he choked it down. unlike most other curses, this one was hot on his tongue and tasting of spice and sweetness.

suguru’s chest heaves as his feet skid to a stop on the carpet, right in front of your office door. without even bothering to knock, he throws the door open, effectively startling you.

“ah! suguru? what the hell are you doing here? i thought you were busy tracking—”

you take him in, eyes wandering over his broad frame. suguru’s a mess, face flushed and sweaty; his hair’s unruly and looks as though it was ripped from its bun in some kind of panic. looking closely at his eyes, you notice a lilac glow encircling his pupils, coloring over his usually brown irises.

“sugu?” you ask softly, taking a step closer. “hey, what happened? you look terrible, is everything okay?”

he groans loudly in response, hips banging against your desk as he slams his hands down on some papers.

“lock the door,” suguru musters, hanging his head as he tries to decide how to explain this mess to you. he hadn’t been affected after absorbing a curse since he was just a first year at jujutsu high, throwing up all over gojo after his new rainbow dragon wouldn’t settle down in his belly.

“will you tell me what’s going on, damn it?”

suguru whirls around, clothing looser than it had been before you’d turned to lock your office door. “i-it’s the fucking curse i was after! right after i absorbed it, i started feeling like this.”

“meaning?”

“i’m sure this sounds insane, but it was an aphrodisiacal kind of curse.. so essentially, my body and mind are aroused to a level beyond my control.” the silent implication behind suguru’s words has excitement and anticipation swirling throughout your body, cumulating between your thighs and dampening your panties.

with one look shared between the two of you and a quiet exhale, you rush forward and melt into him, his arms strong and chest sturdy against your smaller frame. dark strands brush against your cheeks as he tips his head forward to take the lead in a hot kiss.

rather quickly, his tongue is passing between your lips as his teeth clash against your own in a desperate attempt for more of you. more of your taste, made up from the sticky sweetness of your lipgloss and mixed notes of your afternoon coffee.

suguru reverses your positions easily, and suddenly you can feel how fucking thick he is through a few layers of clothing. you twist your hips, attempting to hump on his clothes cock, and he pulls your hand from his, guiding it to the bulge.

he’s struggling with your nimble fingers touching his cock just right, the sudden urge to cum rising inside him.

“ughhh, shit..”

quickly, suguru adjusts you; the small of your back hits the edge of the desk before your ass is scraping against it as he pushes you on top.

“off,” is all he commands as he drags his casual shirt and pants off, eyeing your neatly pressed pants and almost fully buttoned blouse. in this state, he’s doing his utmost to hold back for you — god, he would’ve ripped all your clothes off long ago.

“okay if i’m rough, sweetheart?”

your needy little ‘please’ along with your office slacks hitting the floor has him leaning you back onto the desk, papers flying in every direction.

although he always likes to drag out the foreplay and prep, suguru doesn’t waste any fucking time as he spreads your thighs and spits on your clit before diving right in to devour you.

“a-ah, shit!” you exclaim, voice pitched and shaking almost immediately. “sugu, lick my clit harder.. yes, just like that!”

large hands pressing down hard on your squirming thighs keeps you in place from moving anywhere but towards him and your orgasm. a mixture of your slick and his spit dribbles down his chin, catching the light as he leans up for a brief breath.

“oh—! feels amazing, sugu, ‘m gonna cum soon!”

weakly, you raise your head to observe the way he’s ravaging you, hungry for no one except you. your tits bounce as your body twitches, falling over the cups of your bra and almost through the half undone blouse.

you sit upwards, and he lets you go so you can wrap your thighs around his head. soon the blouse falls to the ground, discarded, and your bra follows suit.

“s-suguru, ‘m gonna— ‘m gonna cum!”

you bite down hard on your fingers as he lifts you and drags you up and down his face, slurping every last drop of your taste. he groans faintly as he licks your inner thighs clean, despite the fact that he’ll be making them messy again pretty soon.

“on your belly, sweet thing.” suguru punctuates his words with a smarting slap to your ass cheek when you turn over, and he picks up your panties from the floor. the lace is sticky with the mess you’d made getting so horny when he’d been kissing you.

he balls them up and shoves them into your open mouth, then circles the desk so as to position himself behind you. suguru can’t help but groan as he finally takes off his boxers, letting his cock rest on your ass before he moves any further. without wasting much time outside of your cunt, he spits on his cock and lubes it up.

he’s hot and heavy, then thick and absolutely throbbing as he nudges his sticky tip forward and between your slippery folds.

“fuck—! ughhh, shit, sweetheart,” he feels as though a bucket of water has been splashed on him, the heat and wetness of your cunt addicting as it envelops his cock fully.

you whine a little from the stretch, bouncing your ass on him as you try to adjust completely. with a hand planted firmly on the wood of the desk and the other pressing into the plush skin of your hip, suguru advances forward, driving his hips into you mercilessly.

“suguru!” a near scream of pleasure almost rips from you, but thank god he’d gagged you with those panties.

“shhh, you need to stay quiet, sweetheart,” he chokes out, the lilac glow in his eyes growing brighter right before they roll back into his head. “y-you’re real tight, baby, ‘nd you’re taking me so fucking well, shit.”

suguru is literally drilling you into the desk, but it’s still not enough for him. he only moves faster and harder, leaning his body over yours to nip at your jaw, nudging your burning cheek with his nose.

“i’ve been waiting to use your pussy like this since i got cursed,” he grunts, satisfied at the way your eyes roll back into your head at his words.

with each drag of his cock against your sensitive walls, you reach your orgasm quickly. your body twists beneath his as you sob, clenching on him and all over.

however, a rare pressure coils in your pelvis; tight and hot and ready to come out, all over him.

“sugu, ‘m gonna cum.. fuck, i-i think i’m gonna—”

your voice raises, words spoken fast and sounding just a little panicked. after all, it’s not like you squirt that often with suguru, and especially not on your work desk in your workplace with your coworkers walking the halls.

what if you got your papers and stationary all wet like this, by being nasty?

“go ahead ‘n make a mess, sweet thing,” his voice rumbles in his chest behind you, low and exuding hunger. “all over me, yeah?”

“a-are you sure?” you gasp, liquid already starting to drip from your pussy; you can barely feel it since he’s fucking it away.

displeased, suguru raises his hand and lightly slaps your cheek, just enough to sting but burn.

“of course i’m sure,” he grunts, eyes meeting yours as you tearfully turn back to look at him. “give it to me.”

just his words have your eyes rolling back as you cum on command — puffy cunt clenching as liquid sprays onto his pelvis and balls. he lets go too, pulling out and jerking his cock onto your pussy.

“fuckkk, sweetheart..”

suguru’s eyes, still glowing, fall shut as his cock shoots cum all over your quivering pussy; your cum mixes with his and starts to run off your clit, and you lean up to start cleaning yourself.

a strong hand presses right into the middle of the back and pushes you down immediately.

“sugu, we have to clean up, what’re you—”

“don’t play dumb,” he sighs, impatient as he rubs his tip in the mess covering your pussy before pushing back in.

you let out a choked gasp, which is unheard over the sounds of sticky skin smacking against skin. he removes his hand from your back and spreads your asscheeks, giving himself a nice view of your rear.

“one orgasm won’t relieve the curse, sweetheart.”

it doesn’t take much for you to melt, losing all your resolve as he fucks you into the desk with little mercy. your face’s pressed into the wood as tears pour down your cheeks, lips parted by sounds you couldn’t even think about holding back.

“i-it’s gonna happen again,” you mewl, unable to sit up or move much as you squirt on him yet again. the spray soaks some papers, and his pelvis, drops of liquid sparkling in dark hairs.

thoroughly fucked out and unable to count how many times you’ve cum, you wail his name, only one thing in your head.

“put a baby in me, suguru. fill me up, please.”

“oh yeah? that’s what you want?” tears of overstimulation build in his eyes but he just can’t stop fucking you. the position, view, sounds, feelings, place, all of it — he doesn’t want to stop.

“fill me up,” you cry again, pushing yourself closer to him.

“i’d much rather see your face as i stuff you full, baby,” and with that he’s pulling out of you, as painful as it is, and flipping you over with ease.

drool runs down your chin as you blink up at him blearily, not one single thought behind your teary eyes. your face crumbles as he pushes inside you, back arching off the desk.

“my baby’s been fucked dumb,” suguru laughs, glancing at your bouncing tits and rock hard nipples. “look at me when i cum, hm?”

you force your eyes open, noticing the tears in his own. he looks beyond amazing — face flushed, eyes squinted as his orgasm rushes up, long dark locks a mess behind him.

“i’ll put a baby in you,” he grunts, tone sounding just the slightest bit competitive.

inside you, suguru thickens and throbs before he loudly chokes out a groan and finally cums inside you. the warmth of his cum inside you has you squirting again, the slightest bit of liquid running down the base of his aching cock.

“think that’s enough, suguru?” you gasp, leaning your head back, body entirely limp.

he pulls out, hissing softly at the loss of your warmth. cum floods out of you, staining your skin as some drips to the floor.

“i could always eat you out..” he offers, grinning slyly.

“suguru, you just—”

a hasty knock on the door has you sitting straight up, limbs aching from being pressed into the desk as much as they were. suguru’s eyes widen, as do yours, as reality hits the two of you like a goddamn truck.

you recognize your boss when she calls your name, and a few of your coworkers’ voices. “is everything alright? we’ve been hearing continuous thudding outside of your office. the office has just been locked down, since some random ran in past security.”

you smack suguru’s shoulder, face contorting.

he shrugs dramatically before grabbing some tissues to wipe up your thighs, himself, and the sprayed liquid covering the wood of your desk.

“ma’am, we will be coming into your office. this is necessary security protocol.”

[liiixsturniolos]

"Think you can take it?"

matt sturniolo x reader & chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smut, unprotected, p in v, threesome, oral (male receiving).

¿ what happens when you Matt and Chris get a little too bored, but both of them want you.. you'll have to compromise and fuck 'em both at the same time.

You were sitting in the living room with your friends, Chris and Matt. Watching a movie you've seen before. Nick was out at a space camp meeting, and you all sat there bored without him.

You sit relaxed in the middle of the couch, with Matt on one side and Chris on the other.

The room is uncomfortably silent. Chris and Matt are looking back and forth at you.

"God, I'm so bored." You sigh.

Chris' hand slides up your thigh, "Ya' look so fuckin' good in those shorts.." he whispers

Blood rushes to your face, forcing your cheeks to turn a rosy-red,

Matts eyes focus on your face. He's analysing every expression, watching the way you blush and Chris' hand creeping further and further up your thigh.

You catch Matts eye, and he gives you a jealous glare and aggressively grabs your other thigh. They fight for your attention, like children, it was pathetic, if only they knew you wanted them both.

Chris leans in, pulls up your chin, and kisses you for what feels like hours, fluttering your eyes open and closed as he wraps his lips around yours.

Then he let's go, and turns to look at you, until Matt grabs you, kisses you harder, more intense, his lips pressing down on your mouth, his hands slipping under your top,

Minutes later, you're all undressed, Matt is sitting on the edge of the couch, pants down, and you're sliding off his underwear.

You dont know how you ended up like this, but you knew you didn't want to stop.

“Can you be a good girl and suck my cock?" Matt says, innocently, with the tilt of his head,

“Go on, let him fuck ya' mouth ma'," Chris tells you as he slowly slides into you from behind.

You attach your mouth around Matts head, and he lets you get used to his dick in your mouth before thrusting his hips forward, his tip hitting the back of your throat violently,

"Can I?" Chris whispers slyly in your ear, you whisper back an approval, and he started fucking you fast, and deep, you tried to keep your mouth around Matt but it dropped open,

"Mmm..-fuck!" You cry out as Chris pounds himself into you, hitting your spot, He presses his chest against your back, "Ya' gotta' keep helpin' Matt out to, or ill stop" he mumbles, you agree to this, taking Matts dick back into your mouth happily.

“Shes soaked." Chris chuckles. Rubbing against your clit perfectly, "come for me," he groans in your ear,

Your legs start to shake, and you let out a loud moan with your mouth still wrapped around Matt and come around Chris' dick. Chris comes at the same time, his cum spilling out of you,

But he continues to thrust himself into you, and you let out soft sighs and whimpers as he does, focusing now on sucking Matt off, you run your tongue around him, putting pressure on his cock, flicking your tongue across him, taking him in further of your throat.

"Fuck-ugh..fuck." Matt moans out as he comes into your mouth, throwing his head back in pleasure.

You give him a proud look before using your fingers to wipe away some of his cum that had dripped out of your mouth...

hope you liked this shittt ;)!! Interact if you did, likes, re-blogs and I LOVE comments from anyone. <3

taglist: @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @1-d0nt-w4nn4-b3-m3-4nym0r3 @pvssychicken @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @matts-myloverboy @sturniolo-fann @emely9274

#s

[lowkeyrobin]

Hawk x sensitive!reader where even after he becomes all "tough" and "badass" he's still gentle with reader. I just need fluff and everything is so sickly sweet like I want my teeth to rot.

- ♠️

(again i forgot which one it was)

YES OMG ☹️☹️☹️☹️ ; I'm screaming and crying were gonna fight wtf ; thank u for requesting some cobra kai stuff love u bae ; also sorry ab this cause I had no idea what to do here

HAWK MOSKOWITZ ; the one i love

summary ; while hawk is off becoming mean and badass, he's still nice to you, knowing you're kind of sensitive, and he doesn't want to lose his s/o

warnings ; language, talk of physical violence

track ; dedicated to the one i love, the mamas & the papas

word count ; 849

masterlist

Eli, these past few months, had changed. A lot. You didn't know whether you liked it or not either. He wasn't even Eli anymore, he was Hawk.

He'd taken on karate, got a new haircut, and completely changed his demeanor and personality. You couldn't lie, he looked cool, especially while showing off his moves, but what wasn't cool was him getting into unnecessary drama.

You'd seen some things online, though you tend not to stick around for any of it. You were caught up by Eli himself, considering you did online school. The bullying from Sam LaRusso and her friends had gotten too bad long ago, forcing you to hide away for the rest of your high school career.

You considered this transition good for Eli, as he was turning a new page in his story. He was able to defend himself, he was confident, and he wasn't being bullied anymore. But, at the same time, he was unrecognizable.

It wasn't in a bad way, not yet, at least. But this "Hawk" guy, wasn't your boyfriend, Eli. You fell into the arms of Eli Moskowitz, not Hawk.

Thankfully, he knew how to retain his relationship. Thank God his standards didn't raise, nor did his ego, as he changed.

You were slightly sensitive, you'd say, kind of emotional, mentally thin, maybe.

You had a bad day, though. That's all that mattered in this second.

You were trying to deep clean your room because it was nasty, and you were already mad. Nothing was working how you wanted it to. Your grades were dropping because you were becoming depressed and unmotivated, and you just wanted to see your boyfriend again. But of course, he'd been busy with karate and working out.

You yell out of pure frustration as you throw a pillow across the room toward your door before crashing onto your bed.

"Ow"

You quickly look up to see Eli standing in your doorway, having been hit by that pillow.

"Fuck, sorry" You mumble, proceeding to hide your face in another pillow that lays on your bed.

He slowly and cautiously steps in your room, picking up the thrown cushion. "What's wrong?"

"...Bad day"

He frowns, "What's wrong?"

You look up at him, spiky hair immediately catching your attention. "Can you wash out the gel before talking to me? You're intimidating looking like a badass"

He chuckles with a nod, "Yeah, I'll be right back"

You couldn't stand the mohawk. It intimidated you, like you were gonna be the next victim of his karate moves. He understood as you'd been honest about it long ago, and would often wash out his hair in the sink and use a towel to then dry his hair.

Now, his roots were dark brown, while the midsection to ends were bright blue. You'd helped him dye it, the reasoning why the bathroom sink was just barely stained with blue in the bowl.

He re-enters the room, his hair now damp, but un-styled. He sits on the bed beside you, allowing you to sit in silence with a pillow pressed against your face.

You slowly pull it away, looking up at him. You flop your back onto your mattress, staring at the ceiling.

"What's up?" He asks, his eyes gazing upon your tired and stressed expression.

You shrug, sitting up. "I hate online school, I have essentially no friends or hobbies, my proctors are shoving thirty assignments on me while I'm depressed and I need to do a million fucking other things-"

He quickly pulls you into a hug, silencing you. You accept his hug, arms draped around his shoulders as you rest your head on one of his shoulders. He does the same for you, his arms slung around your torso instead.

You groan, hiding your face from the light.

He lightly rubs your back, just trying to show you some comfort.

He speaks up after a solid minute of silence, letting you calm yourself down. "Do you want to get into karate? Or at least meet my friends? A lot of them would really like to meet you"

You shrug, unsure.

"It's okay if you don't want to"

You shrug again, your words mumbled from between his shoulder. "What if they don't like me cause I'm not like them?"

He smiles, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "Trust me, they're not gonna make fun of you or not like you in any way unless you give them a reason. And that in itself is pretty much impossible"

You nod, "Thanks"

"Is there any way I can help with your school stuff? What needs done? What can I do for you?"

"Calm down, Eli. I'll be fine. It's just when there's a lot on my mind, I stress out for no reason I guess. Like, I know everything'll be okay but... I dunno" You shrug, pulling away from his arms. "But thank you"

He nods, laying down on the bed beside you. "You tired? I am"

You nod with a smile, pulling him close to cuddle with him.

"Agh- your grip is insane!"

"Sorry"

[ardenzia777]

Polites and Ares: A Chance Encounter

Painting of Ares and Polites for the Bloodstar AU; Polites having just been fighting to Protect Odysseus, and Ares, even though he is technically the god for their opposition, is watching over Polites; both in respect, and interest.

Ares has a thing for warriors who give their absolute all for something or someone. Warriors who will cross the line for their need and cause. Ares watches over Polites, and secretly gives him his blessings.

Depending on how this whole war thing goes, Ares might snatch Polites for himself.

Some fun notes!! Ares has armor sure, but he prefers to show off his battle scars. each one is proof of a battle he survived, and a lesson for himself to do better. Ares is a very reserved person, because he knows all his actions are used against him. He's a quiet man who doesn't speak much, however he says MANY things in his head, and will often deny himself when he subconsciously likes someone. Often times Aphrodite has to force him to realize he has feelings for someone or something, and then he goes baby mode because he's incredibly emotionally immature. Though that's because Athena would always use his emotions against him so he learned to box them up and hide them from even himself. Some of you might be thinking "but Ardy, what about Poseidon?" Oh yeah, Ares told Poseidon he doesn't care that Poseidon claims Polites as his. He's blessing Polites regardless and as far as he is concerned, Polites is his and Aphrodite's and he's just sharing him with Poseidon, and if Poseidon has an issue with that, he can throw hands on land (cause Ares would NEVER fight Poseidon by the Ocean) To those wondering, yes Ares does end up catching feelings for Polites, however he pretends they aren't real and assumes that he just really respects Polites, and Aphrodite clocks the fact he has feelings and she forces him to confront them and realize he likes him (Aphrodite loves it when Ares falls for someone cause she likes to watch ewe and also likes to play match maker) But all that will be drawn later ewe for now, I'M BAAAAACK!!!

[poisonf0rest]

Did someone say zayne with a praise kink? AKA another sneak peak into overcumming writer's block ch 3

Merry Christmas

You're so used to having Zayne above you, between your legs, teasing you senseless as his fingers or tongue bring you to the edge over and over again.

And now, here he is. Spread out, and all yours to ravage.

The realization alone has you throbbing, prior orgasm all but forgotten as you feel the want burn between your thighs again.

God, if only he could see how wet you were already.

How could he not, with the way your hips were rocking against his still-clothed thigh, searching for the friction he wouldn’t give?

And yet, despite your impatience, your eyes never leave Zayne, watching the way his muscles flex as he resists the urge to move, ever obedient for you.

"Good boy," you purr, meaning only to tease him further, but instead of the faux glare or snarky comment you were expecting, you instead watch Zayne tense beneath you, his cock jumping against your palm. Your eyebrows raise, a breathless giggle betraying your intentions as you lean in closer to Zayne, hand still stroking painfully slow. 

"Oh? Do you like that, baby? Being told just how perfect you are for me?”

You're not sure what's more arousing, the fact that Zayne is practically coming undone at your words, or the fact that he hasn't denied a thing.

God, his body feels hot. The mere praise has a gorgeous pink blush racing down his chest, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he looks down between the two of you, to where you’re still teasing the weeping slit of his dick. 

And so he just lets go. 

Zayne shudders, his hand reaching out to grasp your wrist, and for a moment you think he's going to put a stop to your power trip. But his hand only comes up to guide yours, urging you to pump his cock a bit faster, stoping to put more pressure against the base, and you can't help but smirk knowing he must be truly desperate if he's already rushing you to jerk him off properly. 

"My, my, doctor. I suppose I’m not the only one who’s been holding back.” You click your tongue, a teasing edge to your voice. "Were you really so desperate to feel me around your cock, hmm?"

Hazel eyes narrow at the pure filth behind your words, but you see the furrow between his brows, the way Zayne’s throat bobs as he throws his head back with a choked groan. “You truly are horrible.” He hesitates, hands clenching against the sheets before they fly up to your waist, gently bucking his hips into your awaiting palm. “Ah- please.”

You hum, lazily sinking to your stomach so your bare chest presses against his still-clothed thighs. With each stroke you can feel his muscles twitch beneath you, the way his jaw clenches and unclenches, the way his hand guides yours, tightening and loosening, urging you to go faster, harder.

Your mouth waters, and the urge to taste him is far too tempting to resist. 

Plus, you’ve had enough with denying yourself, and more than enough of Zayne denying himself as well. 

So right as Zayne’s head rolls back against the pillows you rock forward, licking a slow stripe up his dick, between the gap of your fingers where they grip his base, moaning against him at the taste.

Zayne hisses, hand immediately tangling in your hair, his grip tighter than before, rough enough that it has you wrenched away with a breathless whine. 

"Ah, ah, pretty boy, let me take care of you, yeah?" You fight to come back to him, smiling as Zayne’s grip immediately loosened, and you kiss his tip in thanks. Rubbing teasing circles into his thighs, your thumbs then move up, tracing his v-line, addicted to the way his muscles tense under your nails and to the red lines that follow. 

“Look at how- fuck- howexcited you are for me. Sopretty.” You lean forward, pressing wet, messy kisses just below his navel and all around his already sticky thighs, heady and coated in leaking pre-cum. "I'm going to make this so, so good for you, baby.” Another bite, and you drag you nails down his thigh as you watch his eyes roll back in time.

Zayne all but sobs at that. Every carefully restrained grunt and huff breaking completely at the praise, a low moan grinding through his teeth as if still being help back. Not that you’d let him. Not anymore.

“Mhm that’s it, you’re doing so well,” you say, smiling at the way his cock twitches, violently leaking. “So pretty, so perfect just for me.”

With one last kiss on Zayne’s neck, your hands steadies itself against his abdomen before you kiss the tip of his cock, and then greedily suck the head of his cock into your mouth. 

Zayne tenses, a choked noise ripping from his throat, and the sound sends a thrill down your spine. You press further, tongue flattening along the underside of his shaft, and fuck he’s so thick you nearly choke, forgetting to breathe in through your nose as the lack of oxygen gets to you embarrassingly fast. 

Fuck, if only you had some more time to properly adjust, you'd force him in your throat without a doubt.

But you’re already edging yourself with every slow grind of your clit against Zayne’s thigh, and you can feel his desperation with every slow bob of your head, letting his cock hit the back of your throat, the tip pressing further. 

Zayne gasps, a low moan leaving him as his hand twitches against the sheets, knuckles turning white as he involuntarily bucks up, urging you to take him deeper as his hips snap up to thrust further into your hot mouth. 

But then he makes the fatal mistake of looking down at you, locking eyes with your teary gaze as you maintain eye contact before swallowing him back down, crying as he catches the slight bulge in your throat. 

And fuck, the way his low moan echos across your room, thrumming against your skull before one hand instantly fists into your hair, large enough to cup the back of your neck entirely as Zayne forces you down, deeper, urging you take him into your throat as he thrusts himself further into your hot mouth. And fuck, maybe it’s the praise, because you make him want to be greedywith the way you were gagging and choking around him.

The mere feeling of you gagging around his length, the way your moans come out muffled and wet with drool and his slick, like a messy kiss to his cock, has his hips stuttering deeper, arching up into your body until Zayne can practically feel the spark of his orgasm behind his eyes. 

But no, that won't do.

After all, you won’t be satisfied until he’s finally fucking himself inside you tonight. He can’t cum anywhere else. You won’t let him.

And right when you feel his cock go rigid, you pull off. 

Heaving, you shakily prop yourself back onto your elbows, Zayne's length still glistening with saliva between your bodies, twitching violently and leaking all across his abdomen and your chest from its angry red tip. 

“S’pretty, Zayne.”

© poisoN 2024

this will be likely be edited before the final chapter is published, but I did falsely promise the chapter last week... so consider this my informal apology~

Super cute banners I’m testing out by @/cafekitsune