#(They would only tolerate it because the bed is cozy)

[muse-inn]

It's International Cat Day! Go and adopt a lonely cat at your local shelter today! Attention, the pictured cat is extremely naughty. Will bite a lot.

[tonycries]

Hope They Catch Us - G.S.

Synopsis. When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhíbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cúmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k

A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.

Lights, Camera, Drama: Gojo Satoru and Leading Lady’s Off-Screen Feud to SINK Box Office Darling?

“They’ll Kill Each Other!” Insider Source Spills All on the Royal Rivalry Between Hollywood’s Hottest Bachelor and Bachelorette.

Enemies of The Century or Publicity Stunt? Recent Cast Outings Sets Fans Speculating!

---

You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywood’s bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius. 

Well, usually. 

“I…shit- I’m in love with you.” 

Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isn’t saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie. 

Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star. 

And to add insult to injury, this wasn’t just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him. 

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasn’t as tempting as it was, you think he would’ve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-

“CUT!” 

That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.

“Something wrong?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.

“It just doesn’t feel real.” The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. “The spark, it doesn't feel real.”

“What?” you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little café they rented out too tight, Gojo’s fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft. 

“C’mon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.” the other man gestures wearily at the café, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. “So why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?”

“Ooo kinky~”

It’s the first time Gojo’s spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the director’s suspicions. 

“That.” you give him a pointed stare. “That is probably why.”

And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. “Lighten up. You’ve told us, n’ in the next take I’ll fix it. Easy peasy.”

If only it was that “easy peasy”. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “It’s not just me, even the public is worried whether your ‘feud’ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-” he jabs a finger your way. “-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-” whirling now to Gojo. “-better act like you’ve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrow’s sex scene-”

Ah, right. The sex scene. 

How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You could’ve almost laughed at the universe’s absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadn’t been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojo’s pretty mouth. 

“We’ll ace it, you just watch.” 

You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojo’s, sending him a look that says “behave”, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, “Or- I’ll ace it.”

God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course. 

“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?” the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you can’t even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojo’s mouth. 

“Well, you could say…” he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. “I’m irresistible like that.”

Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You can’t help but breathe out shrilly, “You fucking-”

“My apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.”

You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this. 

Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an “emergency interview”. 

It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadn’t exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to “Look like you’re gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.”

Rip the clothes off each other, huh?

With the way things were going, you couldn’t be surprised if you ripped him a new-

“C’mon, sweetheart~” Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. “Y’know I was just having a little fun with that ol’ man.”

He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance. 

“Fun?” you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.“Do you even realize the mess you could’ve made?”

“Easy there, m’not insured for these pecs just yet.” Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you don’t think too hard about it, because he’s plowing on, “Besides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.”

Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.

“A little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that we’re gonna fuck this up.” you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.

But oh you shouldn’t have done that - because he’s so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, “Do you?” Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, “Do you think we’ll fuck it up?”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. “...No.”

“Exactly. We’re good then.” he winks. 

“No. We’re not fucking ‘good’.” you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why they cast you.” 

“My good looks? My charisma? The way I’m the-” he trails off with a sigh at your glare. “Well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.”

“At least I can act and-.”

He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. “Me too!” 

This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you. 

“Nuh uh.” 

“Yuh uh.” 

“Then why are you so stiff when acting like you’re in love with me?”

Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, “B-because- well-” And if you didn’t know any better you’d say that was a light blush dusting his ears.

Only for a split-second, though, because he’s grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than you’d ever seen him. “Fine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?”

And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, “I’ll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.”

Gojo’s gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. “Then we’ll do it. Ace the scene.”

Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didn’t want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, “How?”

“Method acting, silly.” he rolls his eyes, as if he wasn’t implying something that wasn’t seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. “Think of it as running lines.”

If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it. 

“You-” you gulp, so hot all over. “You better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-”

At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen. 

“Feisty,” he muses. “But how can I shut the fuck up when they’re second-guessing the two best actors in the game?” 

“The best? Me, maybe.” you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when you’re so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. “But not you.”

“Well, only way to find out is with tomorrow’s scene, right, sweetheart?” 

He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, don’t pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.

Fighting to keep your words steady, “There’s nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We don’t need any…‘method acting’.”

Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. “Then why…” His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. “...can’t you let go of me, sweetheart?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you, you really don’t give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted so…sweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly he’s pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, “Sooo, is that a ‘yes’ to running lines?”

“Ugh, shut up.” your lips ghost his. “And just fucking kiss me.”

And, well, Gojo doesn’t have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again. 

Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.

You hadn’t filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didn’t expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-

“Sh-shit, Goj-” 

“Call me ‘Satoru’ when we’re fucking.” he cuts you off. “Or, my bad. When we’re ‘running lines’.” 

Shameless. Though, you guess you weren’t any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. “You talk too much, Toru.” you hiss, muffled against his lips. 

Oh that cute lil’ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoru’s cock, you were so unfair. 

“You little minx.” Like a little punishment, he’s biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Hmm, I doubt it.”

And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And you’re so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.

“Patience.” you huff out a laugh at Satoru’s disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. “Jus’ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?”

“Record it?”

“Record it.”

“Record it, hmmm?” he’s whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. “So you’re sayin’ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallin’ apart f’me.” Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, “N’ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene they’ve ever seen.”

“Y-yes?” you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Unless-”

“Fine by me.”

The fabric hits the floor before you even realize what’s happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off. 

“You probably broke-” 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone. 

“It was expensive.”

With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. “Five new ones.” Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs. 

“Ready?” he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.

Well, it’s just for rehearsal, right? Right? 

“Do it.” you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. “For my Oscars?”

“For my Oscars. N’the camera’s gonna know.”

And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.

Which is probably why you’re letting out such a pretty gasp, ‘S-Satoru, I want-“

“What?” And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as they’d go on the couch. “This?”

He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.” Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. “You don’t know how you drive me mad.”

Rip! 

He’s so fucking starved that he’s just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him. 

“You’re a tease.”

“And you’re fucking addictive. Look how fuckin’ wet you are. For who, huh?” he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips. 

“S’for you-” you whine, “All for you, Satoru.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

And that’s all that needs to be said before he’s burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasn’t enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed. 

Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue. 

Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoru’s too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs. 

“Fuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- you’re like this, Toru.” you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds. 

Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more. 

And suddenly Satoru’s pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt. 

“Ah! Hngh- Satoru-” you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lil’ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldn’t decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit. 

“Mhm?” he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal.  Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “Ya like this?” Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- “Like when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?”

“Ngh- love it- s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoru’s tongue. 

And oh Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. “Tell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how you’ll come around my tongue.”

Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. “F-fuck off.”

“Mhmmm, n’ this is why I’m the better actor..”

Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.

“Yeah- feel s’good.” you whimper, “Wanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-”

And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoru’s heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your character’s lines. Of course.

Well, two can play that game.

“Yeah?” he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. “Can’t believe I waited s’fucking long. Y’know how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts f’me?”

Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.

So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. “Found it.”

And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoru’s name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didn’t even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. “Go on darling. scream my name. Show off f’the camera like you do best.”

“Sh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-” you’ve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lil’ moans, definitely not with the way he’s dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping. 

“Go on. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoru’s name as you cum all over his face. 

And it’s not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one you’ve had in a while. So hard that you don’t even realize you’re arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him. 

And he doesn’t stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more often…

“S-Satoru.” you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you can’t - he won’t let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him. 

“Nope.” he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. “C’mon now, sweetheart, you were s’pposed to say my character’s name. S’how the scene goes.”

Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same. 

“Well…” you huff, voice shot. “According to the script you were supposed to stuff that-” pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, “-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.”

With a chuckle, he rises slowly. “Touché.” Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. “But I don’t think I’d last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywood’s biggest It Boys but you can’t handle a lil’ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly. 

Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit. 

One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.

And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-

“Now now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.” Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. “Look at me.”

And oh you can’t not look at him. 

Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt. 

“Satoru…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck you’d take his sheer size.

“Sweetheart?”

“I remember he didn’t do a lot of waiting in the script.”

And God were you right - but Satoru doesn’t think he could’ve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you weren’t. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasn’t stuffed inside your pretty cunt. 

“Mhm.” he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- “You’re right.”

And then it’s like something snaps.

Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“Sh-shit, s’fuckin’ tight-” he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. “You gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.”

You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You weren’t even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that you’ve seen it, you think you’ll imagine it for many lonely nights to come. 

“Hey, now. Don’t get camera-shy just yet.” Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. “After all, this is only the best- part-”

Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really can’t help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, “Or- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.”

Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right. 

Because immediately, you’re blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, “Bring it on, you B-list wonder.”

That’s all that has to be said before he’s finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lil’ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls. 

“T-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckin’ big. M’gonna break mpf-” his lips claim yours. Partially because it’s been way too long since he’s kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth. 

So he lets his hips do the talking instead. 

Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.

“Sounds so beautiful, sweetheart.” rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure he’d leave marks. “No camera in the world can pick up how fuckin’ perfect ya are. Can’t ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lil’ heart eyes.” Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, “Shit do ya even know you’re doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms n’-” Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. “Fuck you all over again.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over- 

And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier. 

Close - too close. 

So, so desperate and debauched.

“C’mon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.” 

“Ngh- f-fuck you.”

“Oh? Who’s fucking who now?” he’s laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? You’ll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling. 

“God, m’addicted to you, my girl.”

“That’s not- ah- in the script, Toru.” you hiss. Close. 

“I know. And neither is that.” he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. “Does it have to be?”

“Th-that doesn’t ngh- make sense.” you gasp into his open mouth. 

“Doesn’t have to.”

Maybe it’s the way Satoru’s panting those words against your lips. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips. 

Because before you know it, you’re cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether you’d make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoru’s names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice. 

“Ah- this is gonna have me fallin’, huh?” And then he’s letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum. 

What? 

It’s so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you can’t even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoru’s whispering out sweet- lines from the script?

“Fuckin’ beautiful underneath me. Always was.” Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. “Always will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.” So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.

And then Satoru’s lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. “Such a vision f’me.”

Those weren’t from the script either.

Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.

It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru might’ve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.

The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. “Uh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera n’ see where to impro-”

He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didn’t fool you - not one bit. So without a word, you’re tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.

“Y’know,” he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. “I have one area of suggestion and it might just be that you’re too good at ‘running lines’.”

“...Good enough to win those five Oscars?”

“No.”

“Then guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?”

Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you don’t hate Gojo Satoru after all.

Not anymore, at least. 

---

The Enemies-To-Lovers Trope of The Century?! Hollywood’s Biggest Rivals Sport Matching Hickeys (And Smiles) On-Set of Upcoming Film.

Oops! Gojo Satoru's Phone Wallpaper Accidentally Exposed: Surprise, Surprise It’s His Leading Lady! More on Page 6.

“No Comment. Though, I Have Moved Trailers. Twice.” Anonymous Manager Speaks on Latest Movie Rumors.

Director Is All Smiles As He Raves About Upcoming Romance Movie. “Hell, If I Didn’t Know Any Better I’d Say They Were Really-”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[whorediaries-09]

I’ve been thinking alotttt about rivals! Remy where him and r have been hooking up but the r starts gaining feelings for rem and distants herself but rem is just like “what the hell?” And then they like admit their feelings when rem corners her one day curious😩

i'm sorry this took so long, but i hope you like this!!

friends;

pairing- remus lupin x reader warning(s)- cigarettes, alludes to sex, hurt/comfort. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- academic rivals to lovers is so precious to me you don't understand.

little train

' girl, I'm not with it, I'm way too far gone i'm not ready, eyes heavy now,'

'i can't believe i've to work with your pathetic ass,' he rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. your eyes wandered over to the burn marks on them, probably from all the joints he smoked. you could hear his friends laughing behind his back. even peter, the quietest and the most tolerable of the lot, was laughing. you scowled, tilting your head to meet his eyes,

'i don't remember you saying that last night. you said i've a perfect ass. maybe you have a problem of short term memory loss?' in an instant, you saw his cheeks reddening and eyes widening comically when he registered your words. his hand slapped upon your mouth, trying to shut you up.

he received a flying paper ball on his head. he turned his head around to find sirius waving his index finger at him

'not in class, moony.' he said, as peter tried not to laugh. he was measuring the ingredients written on the blackboard.

'hello my lovely students!' slughorn's overly cheery voice rang throughout the classroom. the class sang him a dull good morning. it was winter after all, most of the students wanted nothing but to snuggle up in bed within the folds of their cozy blankets drinking hot chocolate. the only energetic person was sirius, and he sang,

'good morning sluggy!' slughorn knitted his eyebrows together at the nickname but didn't say anything.

'good morning, mr. black. i see you've preferred to follow the rules for once and sit on the desk assigned to you.' sirius shrugged his shoulders, batting his eyelashes.

'you and i, we're the best matchmakers, mr. slughorn. we're a team,' what he meant, the saints knew. perhaps that would be taking a step too far, because by the slight smirk on slughorn's face, he knew what sirius meant.

'mr. black, i prefer the student and professor dynamics between us better,' he replied, scratching his eyebrow with his fingernail. sirius groaned mockingly.

'okay class, settle down. we're making amortentia today.' raising your hand, you questioned,

'the love potion?'

'yes, exactly the love potion. of course no magic is as powerful to be able to imitate real love. however, it does create a powerful infatuation, with the person who gave it to the drinker. the scent varies based on what the person likes. it's a very complicated potion to make, but anyone who makes the perf-'

his speech was interrupted by a famished lily evans who was as red as her hair and a grinning james potter. her tie was loose, dangling off her collar and his hair was ruffled. lily's usually nicely ironed uniform was full of wrinkles.

'oh wow! head boy and head girl late to class!' slughorn scowled. by the look on his face, however, he was regretting his choice to let the ever infatuated james potter and the stubborn lily evans sit together.

'just sit down the both of you!' he scolded and they entered the classroom, lily's bag almost spilling parchment and ink bottles. slughorn coughed and continued,

'so as i was saying, who ever makes the perfect love potion gets-' he put his hand into his pocket, pulling out a little bottle full of a clear liquid. '-this. can anyone tell me what this is?'

'felix felicis.' sirius said. further words conversation wasn't recorded by your mind when remus bent down, whispering in your ear,

'do you think they hooked up?' you eyes widened as you looked at him. your eyes unconsciously travelled down to his chapped lips. the taste still remained on your tongue.

'do you like- actually think before speaking? james potter and lily evans hooking up! lily would rather die, he hates the guy.' remus shrugged his shoulder, a small smirk on his lips.

'i mean, look at us, we hate each other but the other day you wouldn't let me stop eating you out-'

'oh please shut up! just get the fucking ingredients!' he smiled, as you try to hide your face with you hair, suddenly very intrigued by your book.

'okay madam,' he said, mock saluting.

*-

after a lot of banter and distractions you ended up with a potion which only looked seconds away from an explosion. there was certainly no 'mother of pearl' sheen or any rising steam in a characteristic spiral. even pearl dust couldn't save the disaster of a potion.

'oh god why did i have to work with you!' you gripped your hair with your fingers, almost pulling them off as you sat down on the chair, chewing on your lip.

'my grades will go down!' you snapped. he turned around, a wince on his face.

'so will mine. this shit is team work and if your grades go down, so will mine.' he stated. you rolled your eyes as he sat down beside you, his palm on your shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.

'i shouldn't be comforting my academic rival but guess if you low, i go lower.' your ears perked up at the term. 'academic rival.' he didn't even consider you a friend. that's all you were to him, an academic rival, a benchmark to cross, a quick fuck when he was tired. you gulped slowly. suddenly, your throat felt very dry. you stared into his eyes, trying to decipher something, but trust god to give remus lupin the most dead eyes known to mankind.

'ohhh! we have a winner!' slughorn's voice pulled you from your thoughts. your head snapped to the source of commotion, expecting to find lily to be the winner- but it was sirius.

'mr. black, this felix felicis is yours,' he threw a charming grin to all the flushed young ladies and lads as his fingers wrapped around the little bottle. most of the girls and boys almost swooned at his antics, and some could be found a few seconds from fainting when he winked.

'get it padfoot!' james cheered. lily disapprovingly hit james' head with her book. james scowled.

'i want everybody to come and tell me what they smell in here. let's start with mr. black,' he smiled, staring at the eager faces of the young ladies and lads who surrounded him as if he was a trophy.

'i smell petrol, rain and my favorite tea. i can also smell..uh cherry flavored shampoo, and my cologne.' it was nothing very interesting. neither of them used cherry shampoo. and it wasn't just a flying rumor that sirius black rode a motorcycle.

'ah, good, good.' slughorn praised, patting his back. his eyes wandered about in the room before they stopped at your direction.

'okay yes, now you,' he said, instructing you to smell the potion. internally you called him an old cow. externally you smiled, a little more than actually required, and too fake to be a real smile. no comments were passed when you walked up to the front of the classroom, smelling the potion.

'ah- so i smell parchment, ink, coffee, vanilla....cigarettes and dark chocolate.' you stumbled upon your words when you found remus looking at you intently. you tried to ignore the burning gaze and how the blood rushed into your cheeks. slughorn coughed slightly,

'okay, now next student!' he clapped his hands together, trying to cut through the sudden tension in the room. you moved away from the smoking cauldron, walking towards your chair. sitting down, you pondered.

cigarettes? damn you, you hated cigarettes! you'd been reluctant to try one for the first time, but trust remus to roll you the perfect blunt and manipulate you to try it in the best way possible. you remembered coughing up the smoke onto his face.

dark chocolate? sure you enjoyed it here and there but it wasn't certainly something you loved. you wanted to rip out your hair.

the realization had been lingering upon your head from the last few weeks, but you didn't want to act upon it. a lot of people mistake lust for love. you were a teenager high on hormones, hooking up with remus lupin, your biggest academic rival- of course you were bound to mistake lust for life.

perhaps the heated kisses within the shadows of dark nights, the way his hands lingered upon your body, making you feel alive as he touched you down to your core, the heat crawling under your skin, dizzying your mind, the way he begged to touch you, to feel you meant more than just lust. perhaps it was closeted love. but it didn't mean good news. having a crush was fine, but falling for remus john lupin was bad news. it meant heartbreak, a new rumor for the nosy students of hogwarts.

so you did the best thing that came in your mind to maintain your feelings and keep your heart in control. it wouldn't be very effective, considering remus was your partner in potions for the year, but you'd try your best. no hooking up, just necessary conversations. all you had to do was ignore him. the less you saw him, the better.

*-

remus looked up to your face, his sweaty strands of hair sticking onto his forehead. his calloused hands gripped your waist as he thrust his hips upwards. you bent down, brushing his lips against yours. you held down his hands, pinning them above his head. he tried to crane his neck to kiss your lips, but you didn't allow him holding his hands tighter.

slowly, torturously slow you started rotating your hips. he arched his back, moaning your name, his fingers trying to grasp the fabric of the head board.

'god, you feel so fucking good,' he moaned. you smirked, your tongue swiping over your teeth.

'i know,'

suddenly, his face started to distort, and he started laughing at you. weird, that is not how you remembered that night. he was jerking you, before everything went hazy and your vision started blackening and you saw a tunnel of light. you tried to grasp onto the light, escaping the booming sound of his laughter.

it was a fucking dream. you rubbed your eyes, pushing your face into the pillow, silencing your scream, so as to not wake up the others. you hated how pathetic it made you feel. how did it happen?

within the spills of ink on parchment paper and a constant comparison, how could have your feelings changed like this. perhaps you thought of him too much. you were supposed to ignore him. in the typical sense you were, but your mind or heart wasn't ready to go.

you were standing on the edge of a fucking knife, wondering if remus lupin even considered you to be a friend. you hated yourself for falling for him. it wasn't supposed to be more than sex, a quick relief from the constant shambles of your lives, yet here you were, in the middle of the night thinking of the one you were supposed to hate.

slipping your feet into the cozy bunny slippers, you grabbed your thickest jumper. you couldn't sleep, so you might as well take a walk. james and lily were on duty, but you were sure they weren't being as responsible as they were supposed to be.

*-

it was cold. the snow that settled on the grounds was thick and milky white. the cold wind bit your skin, prickling it with goosebumps. you felt a lump in your throat thicken, and your eyes burn. you felt your heart drop. you blamed yourself for the situation you were in. it was your fault, utterly. you weren't supposed to fall for him.

even the stars couldn't calm you down with their serene rays. you dropped your head into your palms, letting the tears fall down your cheeks, sobbing silently.

'talking a walk alone at night now are we?' a voice quietly creeped up behind your back. you wiped your cheeks quickly, mentally preparing yourself to being caught by a prefect and getting your house points deducted. when you turned around, however, you were met with the amber eyes of the one you'd been thinking about. your tongue was tied in knots as you watched him drop james' invisibility cloak on the floor and walk towards you. you backed away, until your back hit the wall and there was nowhere to go.

'r-remus-' he raised an eyebrow, capturing you against the wall, his hand pressed against the wall. he leaned down, his finger crawling under your jaw and tilting your head to meet his burning amber like gaze.

'have you been crying?' he asked. you stared at him, tongue twisted in knots. but you knew it was no use lying to him. he could read you like a book.

'yes,' you nodded. he tilted an eyebrow.

'why?'

'why does it fucking matter remus? leave me alone- i'm not even your fucking friend.'

'then what are we? you've been ignoring me for the past few days, and now you're running away when i've finally got you alone.'

'nice try, lupin. you don't give a shit, so just let me go.'

'oh so you're going to decide whether i give a shit about you or not? what if i tell you i do?'

'you won't mean it.'

'i will. i've never lied to you,' he said. there was a bitter sadness in his eyes. you could see the darkness in his gaze, and even if he naturally had dead eyes, you could see a tiny ray of warmth in his gaze.

'please.' he said, letting you go. 'just tell me what's wrong. tell me what i've done. tell me how i can fix it. just...please don't ignore me.' he begged. slowly gulping, you pondered whether it was the correct moment to speak out your heart. perhaps it wasn't, but he could right through the lies. and while you had a lot of explanations hidden in your head, you could only whisper one line,

'i'm in love with you, remus,' he stared at you intently, letting your words hang before he could act upon them. you expected screaming, cussing...laughter. you didn't expect a soft gaze as he smiled at you. he slipped his finger under you jaw, tilting your head.

'i don't think you ignore the one's you're in love with,' you screwed your eyes shut, biting your lip. the blood warmly travelled to your cheeks,

'you don't feel the same, i was scared.'

'and how exactly do you know that?' you opened your eyes, to find him staring at you in utter glee.

'i've been yours before you touched me. all it took was spilled ink on my essay, sweetheart.'

********************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

[cuubism]

been wanting to write a sort of grey-ace character first time for a while now, so here it is with dream and hob from the silly cafe universe. tackling grey-asexuality can be a tricky prospect as it has the possibility of falling into a "you just haven't met the right person yet" asexual erasure stereotype, but uninformed black and white judgements will exist in the world anyway regardless of whether we explore shades of grey. so here it is anyway, grey-ace dream. [rated E]

~~

Dream thought he would wait, be more patient, but it only took a few dates before he was following Hob home. Perhaps that already counted as waiting. He never knew what the timeline of these things was "supposed" to be.

But he knew he liked being with Hob. He liked when Hob held his hand, or hugged him. He discovered that Hob could easily tolerate his silent spells, often so annoying to others, by filling them with his own chatter. It was soothing to listen to him talk. He discovered that as easygoing as he usually seemed, Hob could be quite intense, too. On their third date, someone had hit on Dream rather aggressively at a bar—an unusual occurrence he'd had no idea how to react to—and Hob had told them not quite politely to shove off. This had made Dream feel all sorts of things.

Perhaps that was why he went home with Hob after their next date. He expected they would just fall into bed, wasn't that how these things usually went, at least in stories? But instead Hob cooked him dinner. And Dream learned that Hob was an excellent cook; truly, it seemed, his only weakness was coffee. Which called into question why he worked at a cafe of all places, but Dream wasn't about to complain when it was what had brought them together.

Hob fed him dinner, and a glass of very good wine, thus proving that his sommelier abilities were also up to par, and Dream might have been planning the rest of their lives in his mind. It was fine if Hob couldn’t make coffee, Dream could make the coffee, if only Hob would keep making dinner for him, and letting him stay in his cozy apartment, and holding his hand on top of the table.

He watched Hob’s hands as he poured more wine. Hob had very nice hands; Dream knew what they felt like, now, holding his, and cradling his jaw, and carding through his hair as they kissed. Hob’s shirt looked very soft, and clung appealingly to his shoulders. Dream found his gaze drawn to Hob’s forearms, where he’d rolled up his sleeves.

It was hard to focus on the conversation, but he managed. Afterwards they wound up on the couch, sitting just close enough to be touching, and Dream was not sure what he was supposed to do. He had figured Hob had brought them back to his home because he wanted to have sex. That was a common expectation, was it not? Dream was not very good at predicting these things. Perhaps he was meant to initiate?

This was often the point where his past attempts at dating had gone sideways. Trying to intuit what he was meant to do usually did not go well for Dream. Normally whatever he did was, somehow, wrong.

“Dream?”

Dream shook himself back to the present. Hob was looking at him, head tilted, a slanted smile on his face. “You looked like you were thinking about something very deeply,” Hob said, a question in it.

He had draped his arm across the back of the couch behind Dream’s shoulders, and started trailing his fingertips up and down the back of Dream’s neck. It made Dream’s skin prickle pleasantly. Perhaps… it didn’t matter what he was ‘meant’ to do? And only whether he wanted to do it?

He was not sure he had ever truly wanted to before. Not the way that he did with Hob.

He leaned into Hob’s side, into the circle of his hold, and kissed him.

Hob made a low sound of surprise, but kissed him back, wrapping his arm around Dream’s shoulders to pull him closer. As always, it was so lovely to kiss him. There was something comforting about it, which Dream had never felt when kissing before, and more than that, it sparked something in him. That feeling, it was new. When Hob kissed him, when Hob ran a hand through his hair, when Hob pulled him close with a hand around his waist—it made something in him go hot, something he hadn’t felt before. And... he wanted. Even if it was new, and unfamiliar.

He took a deep breath, and slid into Hob’s lap.

Hob took a sharp breath and braced him by the hips. Dream settled into his lap, resting his hands on Hob’s shoulders, a little shiver running through him. It was good, though, it felt good. He didn’t know exactly where it was going to go, but he wanted to find out.

“Well, hi, darling,” said Hob, a pleased smile growing on his face. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You are horrible,” Dream told him, and Hob’s smile only deepened.

“You like me, though,” he said, ducking his head almost bashfully, and Dream kissed him, right above one eyebrow, overcome with fondness for him.

“I do,” he said. So much. So much that he felt things that were unruly and strange—but he wanted to feel them.

He tipped Hob’s face back up, thumbs hooked under his jaw, and kissed him. Hob hummed happily, sinking into the kiss. He slipped his hands under Dream’s shirt, fingertips pressing into his bare back, and Dream shuddered.

“Did you want to move things into the bedroom?” Hob murmured, lips brushing Dream’s. “Is that what that meant?”

Dream nodded, breathless, and then Hob was wrapping his arms around his thighs and picking him up. Dream squeaked as Hob stood up, holding on tight to the back of Hob’s neck, and Hob grinned at him. “You seemed to like it when I caught you.”

Dream had. Dream very much had. And he liked it now, Hob’s strong arms under his thighs, and how tightly they were pressed together. He felt all warm inside, like his body might set itself on fire in a flurry of a thousand sparks, and it was… scary. He hadn’t felt that way before, but he didn’t want it to stop. He wanted more.

“I did. I. Had wondered before if you would be able to pick me up,” he admitted, blushing, and Hob’s smile turned mischievous.

“Oh, yeah? I can do a lot more than that, love.”

“Like what?”

So Hob carried him into the bedroom. It didn’t seem very difficult for him, which made Dream’s stomach flip. When they reached his room, Hob tossed him on the bed. Dream landed with a gasp in the pillows.

“Like that,” Hob said, grinning. He tugged Dream’s shoes and socks off, and then his own, and Dream made grabby hands at him. Hob crawled up the bed after him, settling between his legs. His weight over Dream made him shiver pleasantly. He ran his hands up and down Hob’s arms, over his shirt, surprised by how much he truly wanted to touch him. And to have Hob touch him.

Hob kissed him deeply, then gazed down at him, his gaze heavy. Dream swallowed, throat dry. Hob stroked Dream’s hair. “You’re so pretty, you know.”

“Thank you,” said Dream, and Hob laughed. He kissed the corner of Dream’s mouth, then his cheek, little pecking kisses. He played with the hem of Dream’s shirt.

“Can I take your shirt off?”

Dream nodded, breathless, and Hob sat up enough that he could pull Dream’s shirt up and off over his head. He trailed his hands down Dream’s chest, over his stomach. Dream followed his touch, everything else fading to the background. He wished Hob would touch him all over. What a strange, scary, delightful feeling.

He tugged on Hob’s shirt, and Hob let him pull it off over his head. His chest was broad, and far hairier than Dream’s, and Dream stared, then laid his hands on Hob’s body, mesmerized.

“This is very flattering,” Hob said, humor in his voice, as Dream kept touching him. “What do you want, darling? Because I’d love to get my mouth on you.”

Dream’s attention was suddenly wrenched away from his examination of Hob’s chest by the fact that he was painfully hard. That Hob’s voice and words alone could do that—he hadn’t thought it was possible.

“Okay,” he said, voice tight.

Hob unbuttoned his jeans, and Dream lifted his hips so he could pull them off. Dream felt very exposed then, but Hob’s gaze on him was kind, and hot, as he looked Dream up and down. Dream reached for the waistband of Hob’s jeans—it suddenly felt very important that Hob be naked, too, if Dream was going to be. “Can you—?”

“Of course.” Hob slipped out of his own jeans, then sat before Dream on the bed again, only in his boxers, their legs brushing. Dream studied him, the strength of his thighs, of his hands, the weight of his arousal in his underwear. He had never gone this far with someone, wanted to go this far. He felt like he might combust. This was all so new, but he trusted Hob. He wanted to see where it would go.

Hob ran his hands up Dream’s legs, from his ankles, over his knees, up his thighs, thumbs brushing the crease where his thigh met his hip, and Dream shuddered, feeling heavy and warm and so very aware of everything around him. Hob was like a beacon, everything about him drew Dream’s eye, his presence so strong that everything in Dream wanted to go to him. Touch him, kiss him, lean on him, have Hob touch him. It was an overwhelming fire within him, consuming all sense.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hob said, voice a low rumble that Dream felt in his belly. “Tell me what you like, sweetheart?”

“I—” Dream didn’t know. He had rarely wanted any of it enough to consider it. He knew that he wanted Hob to touch him, but not much more detail than that.

“Wait, have you ever…?” Hob asked, suddenly unsure of himself, pulling his hands back. Dream did not want him to take his hands back, and briefly considered lying, saying, of course, of course I have, who hasn’t? But he didn’t want to lie to Hob. He shook his head.

“Shit.” Guilt settled on Hob’s features. He had nothing to feel bad for, nothing, Dream thought. “I didn’t mean to assume.”

“It is alright.” Dream huffed a laugh, but there was little humor in it. “It is a reasonable assumption, at our age, is it not?”

“Still. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

His mouth twisted in disappointment, and Dream took his hands, placed them back on his own legs. “You didn’t. I want to. If you’ll forgive my inexperience.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Dream.” Hob stroked his thumbs lightly over Dream’s legs, more a soothing motion now. “Nothing. You want to?”

“I do,” Dream said, still a bit shaken by the realization. “I never have because… I never wanted anybody. Not the way that I want you.”

“Oh.” Hob’s lips tipped back up into a half-smile. “Never fell for anybody else, then?”

“Mean,” Dream grumbled, and Hob laughed.

“That’s okay.” He seemed to be coming around to the situation now; he leaned forward again so he was almost in Dream’s lap, and murmured against his cheek, “Just means I get to make sure your first time is just as good as you deserve.”

“You are very sure of yourself,” Dream said, but curled his fingers around Hob’s hips, holding him close.

“I know what I’m good at,” Hob said.

“In that case I should probably inform you that you are terrible at making coffee,” Dream said, and Hob laughed, the sound loud so close to Dream’s ear. It made him smile.

“Wow,” Hob said. “I know, okay? I’m not usually in charge of it. Normally I just bake.”

Dream pulled back just far enough to see his face. “You… are not?”

Hob gave him a bashful smile. “Just wanted the chance to see you. Would have missed you if I was working in back.”

Dream stared at him, astonished—and touched, too. “I demand recompense for all the horrific coffee you forced me to consume.”

“It can be arranged,” Hob said. And kissed Dream again, his lips soft but sure. Knowing that Hob had been specifically engineering things to be able to see him, just as Dream had— it only made him like Hob more.

“Will you touch me?” he asked, and Hob groaned.

“Think I might die if I don’t.”

He eased Dream back to lie down against the pillows, then pulled off his underwear. Dream was breathing hard again now, lying naked under Hob’s hungry gaze. He hoped he wouldn’t faint, but it felt like a distinct possibility. At least Hob had proven that he wasn’t bothered by that, once before.

“I still want to get my mouth on you,” Hob murmured. “Is that okay?”

“Please.” Dream liked Hob’s mouth. He wanted Hob’s mouth on him. Had he ever felt that way before? He didn’t think so. But he imagined Hob taking him in his mouth and he wanted.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Hob said. “Since you walked into the cafe that first time, can you believe it? Sorry. Hope that doesn’t creep you out.”

The thought of Hob imagining this while talking to him over the counter only made Dream feel hotter inside. “I like when you think about me.”

“And I like thinking about you.” He kissed the tip of Dream’s cock, and Dream gasped. “And being with you even more.”

He took Dream in his mouth then, and Dream lost all ability to respond to him. Hob’s mouth was so much. All-encompassing wet heat, the flat pressure of his tongue, and then Hob bobbed his head and took him deeper and Dream moaned, startling himself with the sound. He flailed, and found Hob’s hair, holding onto it for balance, and Hob hummed his approval.

Hob felt so good. Dream did not know how he was supposed to survive it. Perhaps Hob wouldn’t mind if he didn’t. Perhaps he’d take it as a compliment. Dream felt much like how he had right before he’d fainted on Hob at the cafe, a rush of pleasant lightness at the thought that Hob was paying attention to him and wanting him, but he didn’t faint this time. He just fell into the pleasure of Hob’s touch.

He lost himself for a while, to Hob’s tongue, the pressure of his lips, his skillful pacing that kept Dream struggling to find where the edge was. He felt he was supposed to be participating more actively but he could not gather himself together enough to do more than play with Hob’s hair, to touch his jaw and throat and slick lips as if in a dream. He felt out of control, and Dream normally hated feeling out of control, but Hob felt so good that it was worth it.

“Hob,” he cried, as Hob dragged his tongue over him in a way he’d clearly learned would get a particular reaction. Dream’s hips twitched up, thrust automatically into Hob’s waiting mouth, and he rushed to apologize—but Hob moaned. The rumble of his voice was too much for Dream, who already felt held on a razor’s edge of control. The weight that had been building and building in his belly and thighs snapped in a rush and he came in Hob’s mouth, cock bumping the back of his throat. Flushed and overheated, he tugged on his own hair. It cut through the bright overwhelm of being touched.

Breathing hard, he looked down at Hob, who pulled off him slowly, and then swallowed. Dream swallowed, too, a shaky echo of the motion, and pet Hob’s hair, twining the long strands between his fingers.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I did not warn you.”

Hob slanted a smile at him. “It’s okay. I knew what I was getting into giving a blowjob to someone who’d never done it before. Besides—” he kissed the crook of Dream’s hip, tongue darting out to wet the skin “—I wanted to taste you.”

Hob was too much for him. He made Dream feel so overwhelmed, but in a good way, such a good way. Hob crawled up Dream’s body to kiss him, arms bracketing Dream’s head, and Dream let the heat of Hob's mouth, and the pleasant wake of orgasm wash over him.

"Good?" Hob murmured, and Dream nodded. Good, yes, so good. He pulled Hob closer so all of Hob’s body was pressed to his, Hob’s weight over him. There was so much skin like this, so much heat, Hob’s hair brushing his stomach and the strong planes of his back under Dream’s hands. Hob groaned as his erection ground into the crook of Dream’s hip, and Dream needed, suddenly needed to see him come, too. He wanted to see Hob fall apart. He wanted to be the one who made it happen.

He tugged on Hob’s boxers, and Hob budged up enough that together they were able to get them off. Then Dream pulled him back in, wrapped a leg around the back of Hob’s thigh, chasing skin touch. Hob kissed his throat, grinding his cock against Dream’s sharp hipbone, the flat muscles of his belly. An image flashed through Dream’s mind of Hob moving like that but in him and he was startled by how fiercely he wanted it.

It was joyful, too, to hold Hob close to him and feel his pleasure. Hob did not have to be inside him for Dream to feel that he had never been so close to another person before. It was fascinating and beautiful, the mess of Hob’s lips on his skin, the glide of precome, the moving warmth of Hob’s body.

He reached between them and took Hob in hand. Hob stuttered at the touch, then groaned. “Fuck, your hands.”

“Have you been thinking about them?” Dream asked. A thrill ran through him as Hob nodded. Dream would not have expected himself to want to, to be able to try to stoke Hob’s pleasure through words, this was all so new, but— “Did you imagine me touching you like this?” He twisted his grip around Hob, and Hob shuddered. “My hand wrapped around your cock?”

It did not feel awkward as Dream would have expected. Unlike with the stressful repartee of public conversation, he only had to focus on Hob’s reactions, and how he could use his words to turn Hob’s imagination, like he did with his stories. Hob was not even looking at him as he spoke, but he was focusing on him, Dream could tell.

He let Hob thrust into his hand, encouraging him on with his leg still wrapped around the back of his thigh, dragged his other hand through Hob’s hair, and murmured, “Did you know that I rarely fantasize about anyone, but once I met you I could not stop thinking about you touching me?”

“Dream.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he praised—Hob was, he was beautiful to Dream, he was an explanation of something Dream had always wanted to understand—and Hob whined. Dream caressed the back of his neck, down his spine. “I want to see you come.”

And Hob did, gasping against Dream’s throat and spilling into his hand. It thrilled Dream more than his own pleasure, to feel Hob come for him. Hob’s desire for him, and how he responded to Dream’s voice.

“Fuck, Dream.” Hob’s weight was heavy on him now, his breath hot against Dream’s throat. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Nor I,” Dream admitted, and Hob chuckled.

“You’ll be a monster now that you’ve got started,” he said. They lay there like that for a few heartbeats, catching their breath, Dream running his fingers through Hob's hair. Then Hob pushed himself up on his elbows to look at him, hair falling into his eyes, a fond look on his face. “So. First time. Did you enjoy yourself?”

It was harder to speak again with Hob looking directly at him, but Hob’s look on him was kind, so Dream persisted. “I did,” he said, and Hob’s smile deepened, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “And it is not so often that I enjoy something that is new to me.”

Hob kissed him lightly on the lips. “I'm so glad, love. That's what I wanted for you.”

He pet Dream’s hair. The touch felt so nice. “I…” Dream started, because he did have something more he wanted to say to Hob, hard though it sometimes was to speak. Hob looked at him expectantly, waiting. “I did not know what it meant to want this— or to want someone until I wanted you,” Dream admitted. “And… it was not something that I needed. But now that I have it, I do want it, and I want to explore more. With you.”

Hob’s smile softened. "Seeing you enjoy yourself was better than I could have hoped for. Happiness is so gorgeous on you. So don't hesitate to tell me what you're thinking of." He kissed Dream’s cheek, and by the corner of his eye. “There’s a lot I want to explore with you."

There was a low burn of heat in his words, and Dream’s body prickled in expectation. So strange, the way that he responded to Hob, without intention or control, and it was so much stronger now that he knew what Hob’s hands, and mouth, on him felt like. There was so much to discover. He thought of what he had imagined, Hob moving within him, but didn't speak that desire yet. He did not think he was yet ready to bring that from imagination to reality. But someday.

Hob fetched a damp towel to clean them up, then pulled Dream close to him again. It was very warm, like that, their legs tangled, Dream’s head pillowed on Hob’s arm. He had never lain in bed naked with another person before. He found that he liked it. At least with Hob.

“Thank you,” he said, lips pressed to Hob’s shoulder.

“Hm?”

“I do not… often know what I am doing, in these situations,” Dream said. “But I never feel like I am doing it wrong, when I am with you.”

Hob kissed the top of his head. “You’re not doing it wrong,” he said. “You’re perfect.”

“That is objectively untrue, but thank you.”

Hob laughed, and held him close, arms wrapped around him. Dream felt encompassed, grounded. It was a good feeling. Hob was a good feeling. One that Dream certainly intended to hold onto.

He tucked his head in against Hob’s chest, and, smiling, let the dreams he had been spinning at dinner, of Hob cooking for him, of staying, fill his mind again. Only now, there were a few other things included in those dreams, too.

[elliesmainhoe]

Motivation

Boxer!Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have a day off work and go visit Ellie at training.

Contents: Fluff, kissing, use of 'baby, angel, doll, good girl and sugar', Ellie is handsy.

My Masterlist

You woke up at ten, laid around untill eleven. And you found yourself extremely bored. You didn't like work. Because well, no one likes work.

You only tolerated it due to you having something to occupy your time with. Ironically, you were a physical therapist, you rehabilitated athletes who had injured themselves.

The pros of your job: you met interesting people, heard interesting stories and did your duty to put some good back into the world.

Cons however, was that you were overworked and you barely got to spend time with your girlfriend.

Ellie made enough money, that if you wanted, you could never work another day again. However you hated the idea of being dependant on someone so you chose to keep tirelessly working.

But regardless, you had a day free of any obligations and could do whatever you wanted for 24 blissful hours.

You finally dragged yourself out of bed, shuffling towards the large floor to ceiling window in yours and Ellie's shared penthouse apartment. You drew the material to one side, squinting as bright light flickers into the room.

You threw on a simple outfit, a cozy, cream coloured sweater, flared blue jeans and simple black converse. You rubbed in various serums and products into your skin until you deemed yourself presentable enough and walked downstairs.

You reached the large, modern open plan kitchen, grabbing various ingredients you knew Ellie would enjoy. A spiced aroma drifted throughout the large space as your meal slowly came together. You put it in an insulated lunch box to keep the food warm, put it in your bag and left yours and Ellie's home.

You arrived at the large gym at exactly 12:25, 5 minutes until Ellie's lunch break. You entered the large 3 story building the first floor was a basic public gym, weights, cardio and other various machines.

The second floor was filled with punching bags, and a large flighting ring stood in the floors centre. This floor was for novice to advanced training.

The third floor was private. Ellie rented the top floor, using it as a private studio. Only her people (coaches, spar partners, specialists) had access, well plus you of course.

Having ridden the elevator to the top, you entered a small foyer. A large blacked out door that was locked stood tall. You rustled through your bag fishing out the key card and swiping it against the pad. The red light switched to green with a beep and the doors slid open.

You looked at the familiar room, glancing around trying to locate your girlfriend. You spotted her holding a plank on the floor. Beads of sweat dripped down her flexed arms. Her hair was tied up out of her face, a few strands loose and dangling.

You slowly approached her, trying to be stealthy.

"Baby, I know your there." She says before looking up at you.

"Damn, caught red handed, huh?"

"uhuh." She agrees, "I know the rhythm of your footsteps doll, I am impossible to speak up on." She says breaking her plank.

"You do know that justs makes me want to sneak up on you more, right?" She doesn't reply, only smirking at you while she got up from the floor.

Ellie leans towards you and kisses your forehead. "What has caused you to grace me with your presence?" She quips, walking towards a bench and picking up a small towel and wiping down her forehead.

"I cooked you homemade lunch..." You reply, taking out the insulated lunch box, still warm to the touch.

"oh my sweet, selfless, angel" she cooes sarcastically. "Oh shut up" you roll your eyes. "Not completely selfless, I want some too."

She chuckles "yeah of course baby," she says "c'mere" she winks at you and pats next to her on the bench. You shuffle over, handing her the warm meal.

You two banter and laugh, sharing food and kissing.

"Wish you could be here all the time with me, doll." She mutters through a bite of pasta. "Y'know, you could just work for me, be my personal nurse and all that."

"I don't know, I'll have to think about it Ells."

"Yeah, course sugar. Can't just ask you to quit your job and expect you to immediately say yes." She hummed, finishing off her last bite of pasta.

She closed the lunchbox lid, grabbing your bag and slipping it back in. "Hey, wanna help me work out?"

"I don't know Ells, I don't really think I can help with that. Your workouts are... intense."

She laughs "Don't worry doll, you don't have to do anything, just need you for a bit of motivation"

"okayyy... What do you want me to do?"

"Right lay down on the floor" You send her a look and she laughs in return "just do it baby, yeah good girl, okay, yeah flat on the floor."

She slowly climbs on top of you her arms on either side of your head, palms facing the floor. She moves her self into a plank position again.

She begins to do a push up, halfway her face meets yours. She collides her lips with yours briefly, but she pushes back up before you could fully enjoy it.

"Now. that. is. rude" you laugh at her, words between kisses.

"count for me" she asks, you can only nod in reply

She continues to do this, over and over again, it's torture.

"100" you finally say. She pushes down again but this time her lips linger for longer, her tongue entwining with yours. Her hands behind to wander, grabbing and pinching at your skin under your sweater. You could feel her smile when you gasped at the feeling.

"Hey." She says, her voice low and gravely. "I think I can scrap training this afternoon... Let's go home" she whispers into your ear. You could only muster a nod in reply.

----------

My first proper request!!!! I genuinely have no idea if you get what I mean about the press up kisses. It's so difficult to explain it 😭.

PT 2

NOT PROOFREAD

[chiefbeifongcanrailme]

For the Touches ask game 13. Linking hands during sex please

Surprisingly, this was the only ask I received in regards to this series of prompts. Thanks for indulging me :)

I might have been listening to Bed Chem while writing this- just so you know what to expect👀

He had never seen Lin so still- she was calm, composed and grounded in peace, she was rarely known to experience. He lowered himself on top of her and planted a soft kiss under her ear.

"You're awfully gentle tonight."

When he pushed himself up, he looked into those lustful green eyes. For a woman who scarcely smiled, her playful smirk was truly something to marvel at.

"I want to enjoy you enjoying me," Zolt replied, kissing her neck this time.

Lin's arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him back on her body. "Someone's full of themselves."

Zolt chuckled. "At least one of us should be full of me."

"You're disgusting, you know that?"

"You're disgusting," he countered. "I meant that as- you know, you being hungry for me- like you're never going to be full of me because you can't have enough of- Lin!"

She laughed heartily, knowing that her fingers running up and down his torso was throwing him off. "You're so flustered today!"

"It's your fault," he mumbled.

His grumbles died against her lips when she kissed him. Her body was writhing under his- he wanted to spend more time on it too- if only her face wasn't so captivating.

"So, are we going to..." she began, raising an innocuous eyebrow suggestively.

"Well, I didn't get you naked for nothing, did I?"

Forgoing her distracting lips, and eyes, and sharp tongue, Zolt positioned himself to enter her. She closed her eyes, and he realized that there was no feeling, sexual or otherwise, that he would shut his eyes to experience if it meant missing the look on her face.

Lin moaned as she guided his lips down to her neck.

"I have a... request," he grunted out.

Lin's eyes widened- her face contorted to her no-nonsense visage and deadpanned, "You're not putting it in my ass."

Zolt huffed out a laugh. "I want to hold your hand."

She looked confused and surprised, but obliged anyway, awkwardly waving and surrendering her hand in front of him.

He laughed again as their fingers entwined. Zolt lowered his head and kissed her cheek. "Thanks, love."

Love? Since when was she love? Lin was known to tolerate baby from time to time or go by Linny despite her many protests, but love? Never.

He squeezed her hand to pull her out of her thoughts. Ever the dominant, Zolt had found a new way to control her. He kissed her cheek softly before trailing down her neck and continued thrusting into her. Lin easily gave in and enjoyed herself instead of worrying about semantics.

Later that night, Lin awoke to a parched mouth. Zolt's arm weighed her down in the mattress- making her all the more cozy and unwilling to quench her thirst. Besides, she knew if she so much as even stirred for something like water, Zolt would probably bring the whole ocean into this little hotel room.

So she lay there, thinking about about labels and what it was about linking hands together that overturned their routine fucking to making love. How they went from making out before a delicate first kiss, or sleeping together in the same bed until dawn before ever going out on a date to a fancy restaurant.

This backslide was new, but very welcome.

A few minutes later, Zolt let out a slight snore, and shifted in his sleep. He pulled her closer to his body, and Lin gladly went with the motion, resting her head on his shoulder. Shuffling under the blanket, Lin felt around for his hand and grabbed it.

When she thought about what it really meant, she decided she'd play it off as some kind of fetish.

Touches Ask Game

[goldberrg]

here I am

summery : The sweet growl of the Camaro engine, Scorpions in the radio and a downpour outside the window.

Just a couple of hours ago, the gray of a stormy day was only behind a thick layer of glass of the tutor's cozy house — the ease of the atmosphere was accompanied by the measured ticking of the wall clock, the teacher's mumbling and the slightly nasty whisper of a pen wandering on paper. The dull walks of the wind outside the walls of the house, the raindrops lazily spreading over the windows — everything was tolerable, even lullingly pleasant, until the long-distance highway and the sidewalk banks were covered with small, impulsive rain rushing into the break, like a marathon running, and puddles splashed underfoot.

The evening, already coming early, unpredictably driving the sun away from its usual place, stealthily crept up, covering the purple sky with a gloomy bluish blanket. Heavy rain clouds poured generously over the road and therefore the gray asphalt lost its paint, but at the same time it shone fabulously, either because of the rarely winking lanterns, or because of a tiny piece of the moon peeking out of a crack between the mourning fir trees and the untouched sky. The dancing lights of the moonlight raced forward, especially trembling when the trampling of your soaked sneakers seemed to break a twitchy line on the water, interrupting the harmony of the rain noise with squelching. Sighing heavily, you quickened your pace, keeping the hope that the road to the house would somehow shorten, but the nose tingling from the cold and the fingers of your hands, noticeably pink at the seeds, similar to a cherry seed, said otherwise.

Walking towards the wind, you feel its cold, nimble stripes creep under your clothes, paw your neck and even reach your back, which makes you shiver with shoulders, clutching the bag to my chest. Because of the pounding hooves of the autumn rain and your own heavy breathing, you barely catch the flirtations of tree branches rubbing against each other, turning black from their own shadow and the gloom of the evening.

But suddenly you stopped in horror. Behind you, the screeching of a car was clearly heard, then the flickering of low headlights outlined your image on the road.. it seemed that something terrible was happening, knocking you off balance, but as soon as the sharp wings of the car approached, everything fell into place. The terrible screeching sound was replaced by a sweet combination of the gentle purring of the engine and the multiple tapping of drops on the metal roof. The music escaping from the case subsided for a moment, as if allowing you to hear the door open. Retreating a step, you duck, immediately recoiling a couple more steps, plunging into confusion.

— Come on, I'll give you a ride. — Billy, reaching from the driver's seat to the door, opened it in front of you, giving you a moonlight smile. — Or should I leave you? — large pupils, dark as night, with a questioning glimmer, as if stolen from plush toys, stared at you, and the guy who snorted with his nose, noticing your restraint, begins to hurry.

Barely opening your mouth, you awkwardly get into the car. You slam the door and immediately rest your palms on the console of the car — a slight jitters envelops your whole body, you light up on Billy, but immediately close my eyes, patiently waiting for the water to quickly drain from your face. It turns out that the evening was quiet. Everything, though worried about the rain, was already getting ready for bed, where gray darkness was already waiting for them. And only the car raced smoothly along the road — the growl of the engine was so sweet, the long guitar solo tearing from the radio was just as awkward, because the peculiar silence created was more disgusting than the hair sticking to the skin. In your own breathing, still trembling from walking fast, you hear tension, your hands do not come off the console, my feet are pressed into the floor and you, afraid to make the car seat even wetter, do not even lean back against it. Swallowing a lump of air in your throat, you look at Billy again, calmly holding one hand on the steering wheel, and the other, affectionately holding a smoldering cigarette with two fingers, at his raised lips. Acrid smoke, as if not knowing where to go, then hides behind the aisles of the car, then dimly glowing rises in shreds to the roof.

— Thank you very much. — adjusting your glasses, which have transferred all your weight to the tip of your nose, you mutter hesitantly, glancing at the guy. — Well, for giving me a ride.

— Nothing serious. — the words, like smoke, exhale easily and serenely. The eyelids rise heavily, which makes the face outlined with curly hair become languid, and the freely falling moonlight makes the contented lines creeping from the eyes and cheeks darker.

You don't know exactly how many more monotonous kinds of greenery flew before your eyes, before your soul was warmed by a warmer and friendlier light from the windows of familiar houses — as if getting out of a gloomy world, you find yourself in a fairy tale, which in its own way makes your heart tremble. However, the repeated grinding of the wheels told you that it was time to get out, which is why the excitement almost escapes from your mouth, getting stuck in your throat.

— How can I thank you? — the question sounded quiet, but it doesn't matter, because the guy was ahead of all your thoughts, leaning close to you. You were stunned. Your face burned furiously, turned purple brighter than any expensive fabric, and large drops of sweat, mixing with absolutely fresh rainwater, made your face shine brighter than the eyes that darted to the side, to the other, but in a moment stopped on Billy's face.

— And I asked you not to ask stupid questions. — feeling on your neck how the guy sighs heavily with his nose, you bite your lip, involuntarily stretching your hand between us, it seems, touching the guy's thigh — jeans slide pleasantly, it's worth holding your palm over them. Slow kisses, as if it were planned, bloom on the neck, causing a pleasant tickling, both on the skin and deep inside. A sly laugh is clearly heard in your ears, which makes goosebumps run excitedly through your hands, you arch in your back, yielding closer to the guy, when suddenly he comes off. Only a shameful moment passes, in order for Billy, with a grin in his eyes, to make the music louder and, sweetly opening his lips, whispered. — You blushed a lot, are you already so shy?

The curve of one thick eyebrow indicated that it was not worth giving an answer, but something in his chest anyway.. exploded like a firecracker that almost tore off your fingers. You flinch, squinting and fighting to look away. Too ashamed, too hot, a state on the verge of a little panic, which quickly gives way to numbness — tickling, even frosty, the guy's hand slides along your neck, rises higher, gently stroking the skin and, reaching your chin, trembling innocently, raises his head a little higher. After swallowing, you whisper softly but legibly, touching the guy's broad chest with my fingers.

— You see, it's out of habit.

Just a couple of seconds, stretching like a pitch heated by the sun, allowed you to see your own reflection in your eyes, wet because of the moon and lampposts. You, guided by my gaze and fingers holding your chin, barely reached for the face opposite — at that moment indecision enveloped you in a gloomy fog and you closed your eyes, as if gathering my courage. A wonderful moment and Billy's lips confidently covered yours, slightly swollen, maybe cracked somewhere. In such proximity, you clearly felt a tart residue from cigarette smoke and a burning tingling on the tip of your tongue due to mint candy. It was difficult to respond to the kiss, the desire was too strong just to feel how Billy, having inhaled the pungent smell of everything that can be associated with him, crumples my lips with his sticky lips. The guy's hands walk around the body — affectionate strokes on the back turn into nimbly rising higher, to the head, where the fingers are already burrowing into wet hair, gently sipping them, which leaves your sweet moan in the kiss. You felt like you were in a stream of something fresh and bitter-in an inimitable stream that spread like honey, passing through you, but as if unreal, flowing outside the brain, in the pounding of hearts, rare raindrops on the glass, in the song "Scorpions" rumbling in your ears.

[shytastemakerthing]

Zohakuten and baby sister reader. Like reader like a toddler and this is modern au. Headcanons of Zohakuten being a big brother

Hello and thank you so much for your request! Honestly, I love the idea of baby sister with these boys because you just know she will just be spoiled like no tomorrow! Requests are open!

Enjoy!

Tw: None

Prompt: Modern AU Zohakuten with toddler sister

Right off the bat, you are instantly his favorite sibling. He tolerates his older brothers for the most part and holds a sense of respect for Sekido as he takes it upon himself to lead the remaining siblings who were within the home, but you? Oh the moment that he saw you, he just knew that he would never let anything happen to you.

Zohakuten remembers the day you were born as if it was yesterday. At the time, it had been kept as a secret whether you were a boy or a girl. He would say that he didn't really care, but the moment that it hit him that he has a baby sister? He knew just how the others felt when it came to keeping him safe as the youngest of the family. Now that you are the youngest, he feels the same protectiveness.

He has taken to calling you 'Cherry', as around the time you were born, was the same time when the beautiful Cherry Blossoms were beginning to bloom all around.

Everyday as you grew older, he was there. Zoha was there the moment you started crawling, the moment you took your first steps, and when you said your first word, 'oha'. Yeah, everyone in the family knew you were trying to say Zohakuten's name. It would seem you were just as stuck on him as he was on you. (Yes, he cried when he heard this, don't let the 'dust in his eyes' fool you for a second)

Once you reached your toddler years, you were very easily 'Little Miss Independent'. You were capable of things that others your age were just learning how to do. While Zohakuten didn't mind this independent stage, it also reminded him that you were growing up and he had to let that sink in for a good long moment.

Out of all of your brothers, he would be your favorite. Aside from him being one of the younger siblings, just like you, as the baby, he was the one you saw around the most. The quads were usually busy with college work so they weren't around a whole ton, but you had Zohakuten.

He remembers the first day he dropped you off at preschool, how your little hands clung to his arm, a bit nervous to leave him behind, but with that smile that was only reserved for you, you knew you would be okay.

And when he picked you up? Everyone wanted him as their big brother now. (I am thinking he is about high school age at this point, about 16 or so), but he comes along with that red wagon you love with little wood dragons that he painted on the side, and you were instantly running towards him, going on and on about your day (I swear, little kids will tell you everything). He would pick you up and place you inside the wagon with your backpack and his own, before beginning the journey home.

But his absolute favorite moment is when you're getting ready for bed. You had taken a liking to some of his old childhood clothing, so you're dressed in an old pair of pajamas when he was about your age as you brush your teeth, him making sure that they are all clean and shiny, before he walks you to bed. Technically, you stand on his feet and he does this dinosaur stomp down the hallway that never fails to make you laugh. Before, he would never see himself doing such a thing, but now? He would do anything to see the smile on his baby sister's face.

Once you've made it to your room, he will tuck you in your bed, bundled up in the blankets as he reads you your favorite bedtime story, one about very strong swordsmen fighting against evil. A little above your reading level, but you just love how he enacts the story.

By the time he has finished, he sees your little sleeping face, warm and cozy, and in that moment, he just smiles again, making sure you're covered, that your nightlight is on, before a small kiss is placed to your forehead, and he leaves the room.

The quads know his behavior towards you, and while Karaku and Urogi certainly tease him about it, they're just happy to see him interacting with you and just how much you look up to him.

Overall, he would be such a good big brother to you and he would make sure that nothing bad would ever happen to you.

[espressorry]

better together

it’s not always easy & sometimes live can be deceiving; i’ll tell you one thing - it’s always better when we’re together :)

this is pure fluff and a combination of the things i imagine when i listen to better together & banana pancakes by jack johnson :) enjoy!

...................................................

She was awoken, first, by the light streaming in lightly through her bedroom curtains. She hesitated to open her eyes, not quite wanting to shake off the sleep induced haze quite yet. Blindly, she reached out for the warmth of her boyfriend next to her, but was met with only remnants of his body heat.

As Y/N became more and more awake, she could hear rumblings in the kitchen - dishes being moved around, sizzling from the stove, a soft “shit!” as Harry likely burnt his hand on something. 

Chuckling to herself, she turned her head into her pillow and stretched out her sleep-stiff limbs. This was her favorite way to spend a morning - sleepy smiles shared over good food and warm coffee, soft hugs in between bouts of conversation, and the overall comfort in being with your person on a Saturday morning with nowhere else to be. 

Slowly, she got out of bed and shrugged on a cozy sweatshirt of Harry’s and her sleep shorts, discarded hazily the night before. As she made her way into the kitchen, she was met with a shirtless Harry just in his joggers, back turned to her as he cooked something on the stove. She approached him quietly and snaked her hands around his waist, nuzzling her head in between his shoulder blades.

He flinched as he felt her hands come around him, “Your hands are ice cold,” he chuckled, and was met with her rubbing those same freezing hands up and down his stomach to tease him further. “Good morning, my love.”

She grumbled noncommittally into his back, wrapping her arms tighter around him to savor his warmth.

“Well, good morning to you too, then,” he added, pausing his cooking to wrap his hands around her wrists, interlacing her fingers with his. He turned around so he could look at her face, eyes looking up at him with love and adoration, despite the sleep clouding them. 

“Good morning,” she responded with a soft smile, reserved only for him - the only person she would tolerate before a cup of coffee in the morning. “I love you.” An unspoken rule between them, always throwing in ‘I love you’s’ at all hours of the day, not just as an obligation when leaving or ending a phone call.

“I love you too, baby. Coffee?” He asked, turning back around before she could even respond, wordlessly grabbing her favorite mug out of his kitchen cabinet and filling it from the pot of freshly brewed coffee.  

“You are the best,” she voiced as she accepted the warm mug of coffee from his hands, both hands wrapping around it to steal all the warmth she could. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Banana pancakes,” Harry responded - her favorite, made with mashed, ripe, bananas and dark chocolate chips. He turned back to the stove to flip the small pancakes over to brown the other side. “They’re almost done, there’s a small stack keeping warm in the oven you can help yourself to.”

She was frozen for a second - even after months of being with Harry, it was still these moments that shocked her the most. The joy that came from having a partner who wanted to learn your favorite foods so they could cook them, unprompted, or would be unable to resist buying something because they thought of you - these were the things that she cherished the most in life. She had never felt so loved. 

She set her mug down to wrap her arms back around her boyfriend, feeling her love for him swell up in her chest so much that she had to voice it - even without words. “Thank you,” she murmured into his back, pressing soft kisses along his shoulders. 

Though the world could be dark and depressing sometimes, she hoped she would always have these slow Sunday mornings with him in their small little bubble - nothing to do, no other place they’d rather be.

[gary-mu]

Hi 😊 I hope you take anon requests. Could you please write was is like to have a lazy Sunday with Katana Man? Thank you so much 🙏🙏🙏

Oh, anon you just did my day. Thank you for requesting Katana Man 🧡💜💚 You don´t even now how much I love that idiot

Sorry for making you wait so long, anon. I hope you enjoy it :)

-HC- Lazy Sunday with Katana Man

Warning/Tags: g/n reader, domestic fluff. It gets spicy at the end ;)

*No beta read

He's a busy man. Always traveling for business... and some other matters he hasn't dared to tell you yet for fear you'd run away.

That's why it's not unusual to be weeks before you see each other again or even have a cozy lazy Sunday. But when it does happen, Katana is always eager to compensate for the time you've spent apart.

He usually would come back late at night when you're already asleep and take a long shower before joining you in bed. He wouldn't dare to bother you with the smell of death he always wears after every "business meeting."

If his week has exceeded his stress tolerance limit, which happens all too often, it's your turn to be the big spoon. Your warm body against his back makes him feel safe, and he'd drift off instantly.

Katana always wakes up first, and he hates it. When he sleeps with you, his dreams are usually calm and wholesome. He would dream of having dinner with you and his late granddad or of Denji's dead body lying at his feet... Nothing but sweet dreams.

When you finally open your eyes, he'd greet you with that rare soft smile he only displays for you. You would pull him for a welcoming kiss and sigh softly when his lips meet yours.

"Shower together and then breakfast?" You would suggest while stroking his back, and he just can't refuse.

Taking the lead to the bathroom, you would begin to undress, making sure his eyes are on you the whole time.

When Katana joins you in the shower, he'd be covering his erection with his hands and avoiding your gaze. He looks so desperate you almost give up and help him with the issue at hand, but he will have to wait a little longer because you're starving.

"We'll take care of that later," you would assure him with a wink and a playful kiss on his cheek. He may be a vicious Yakuza but blushes like a schoolboy whenever you discuss or do anything remotely sexual, and you love it.

Once the two of you are clean and dressed in comfy clothes, it's finally time to make breakfast.

Cooking with Katanana, it's like preparing a five-course meal with a toddler as an assistant. Trust me, It can't be extremely frustrating.

The man is totally clueless about cooking and other household chores. But you can't expect much from someone who's never even boiled an egg by himself because somebody else always did it for him.

Yet Katana's willing to learn and improve only to make you happy, and that's a start. Besides, he'll compensate later by helping you get rid of all that tension you're carrying... and damn! He's good at it.

While eating at the table, you'd tell him all the ups and downs of your week, and he would listen patiently. The man would stroke your hand when you're about to cry or offer to kill whoever gets on your nerves when you grit your teeth with anger.

His advice might be useless most of the time, but he gets extra points for caring.

Katana wishes he could give you a sincere answer when you ask him how his week was, but telling you he died a couple of times a was brought back to life using blood might not be something you'd like to hear. Instead, he chooses to complain about the incompetence of his subordinates.

"Wanna watch a movie?" You would suggest standing up to leave the dirty dishes in the sink before straddling him. "Or maybe you have something else in mind..." you'd add with a subtle roll of your hips against his crotch.

"S-something else," he would whisper before burying his head in the crook of your neck to hide his blush. No matter how much he tries, he never manages to "keep it cool" when you tease him.

You would begin to move your hips, slow and steady, feeling him grow hard beneath you and smile at the desperate faint noises he'd make.

Hesitant lips would ghost over your skin, and his hands would move to your hips.

Your fingers would massage his scalp, his neck, then his shoulders. He would melt into your touch, moaning against the sensitive skin of your neck.

The moment your lips meet, a rush of lust will overcome you. Katana would pick you up and take you to the bedroom, unable to wait any longer. You've missed each other so much and in so many ways that it isn't long until you're making love for the first time in what feels like an eternity. The next day you'll have to deal with angry neighbors complaining about the noise, but it doesn't matter now.

You would spend the rest of the day alternating between sweet love-making and fucking each other's brains out.

Exhausted but happy, you would eventually fall asleep in each other's arms. Katana would be resting his head on your chest and wearing a peaceful smile on his face.

When he's with you, he forgets the mean, cruel, and insufferable snob he is with everyone else. With you, everything is always perfect.

[revnah1406]

Hello ;u; I’m on mobile and the app won’t let me copy and paste the written question, so I only have the numbers- hopes that’s ok!

5, 7 and 8 for any OTP you have, I’m curious to learn about which one you choose! 💖 ok I go now- have a lovely day 🥹

Hey love!! I hope you have a lovely day too!! 🧡✨

Let's do Sparrow X Amara ☀️🌕🥰🧡(I still don't have anything for David X Alice😭)

5. Describe their cozy nights:

Aaaahh a perfect cozy night for these two would probably, be a winter friday night, when the weekend has just started and it's too cold to go outside. The snow of the Swiss Alps covering the roof and windows of the house. When they are both snuggled on the couch, Amara reading a book and Sparrow just laying on her lap like a weighted blanket, probably sleeping and melting under Amara's sweet touch, her fingers tracing small circles on Sparrow's hair and back. I'm sure their dog and cat would join them in that little love nest to escape the cold and cuddle under the blanket with them. A cozy night in a comfortable silence just broken by the crackling sound of the fireplace and a calm jazz music coming from the vinyl record player.

7. Would they build a pillow fort just because?

Oh hell yeah! Probably Sparrow's idea, just to cheer Amara up after a tiring day of work. Just let their inner child have some fun after being an adult all day. A pillow fort full of blankets, snacks, a big girlfriend to cuddle and a good movie. But probably they'd end up in a pillow fight just because Sparrow started to tease Amara hahaha!

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?

Oh it's very different for each other!

If Amara gets sick, Sparrow has to force her to stay in bed. Amara is the kind of woman that says "it's just a small fever, I still can work". So Sparrow has to make sure that Amara rests and doesn't run away.

Sparrow: "Why aren't you in bed?"

Amara: "I just wanted to help you with the laundry."

Sparrow: "The only way you could help me right now is you staying under the sheets and sleeping all day."

Sparrow would heal Amara with a lot of good, warm and cozy food. To provide the energy and calories that she needs (because being sick burns a lot of energy). Breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed or on the couch. Sparrow wouldn't hesitate to go to the pharmacy and buy the necessary medicines as soon as possible. Back massages for the muscle ache and cold baths for the fever. Sparrow would have her full attention on Amara 24/7. Amara usually likes to take care of herself in her own way but she really appreciates Sparrow's attention and care.

When Sparrow is sick... That's a whole other story... She has a high pain tolerance, she will still work if she has bullet wounds, cuts, or ever broken ribs. But a fever? It's the end of the world for her. She would act like a medieval kid that is dying of black plague or something. She would get stuck in bed, wrapping the sheets around her body like a cocoon.

Sparrow: I don't think I'll see the sun light again...

Amara: Han, sweetie... It's just a small fever.

Sparrow: tell my parents I love them, and I love you too...

Amara: You're not going to die...

Sparrow: I feel like it.

Amara: You're exaggerating.

So yeah, the strong and unstoppable Hannah "Sparrow" Clayton, turns into a drama queen that needs attention 24/7. Amara would take care of Sparrow, like Sparrow would do with her. Good food, blankets, cuddles and a lot of reassurance that she's not going to die, hahahaha.

And that's all!! Thank you so much for the ask love!!! love ya!

MWAH 🧡

[cellythefloshie]

ＩＭＡＧＩＮＥ: Trying Not to Get Caught with Ross Colton *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ honey magnolia edition ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Celly's 300 Follower Appreciation Requested by @comphy-and-cozy

-who would have thought sleeping with Ross was exactly what you needed to be able to tolerate his presence

-and not only were you just tolerating it when you sat down at dinner together

-or had to sit a little too close during a family car ride

-you wanted to be spending your time together

-which was easy to do when you were stuck in the same house for the summer

-the tough part was trying not to make the change in your behaviours too obvious

-for years you hated each other

-finally getting along would beg too many questions

-and so you tread carefully as you moved into the living room where Ross was seating on the couch flipping through Netflix

-“what are you gonna watch?”

-“don’t know yet.”

-“that one looks good”

-and he scoffed, his bright eyes raising to meet yours 

-they were soft and didn’t match the annoyance he was trying to have perceived

-“sit down then-”

-you lay out on the couch beside him with your feet closest to him as you reached for one of the throw blankets

-the two of you settled in, the movie playing out on the screen while you heard his mother working on dishes in the kitchen

-Ross was quick to complain before the movie could really start

-“your feet are practically in my lap, sit up”

-he complained, and you sat up with a pout

-but his touch kept you from straying too far

-your eyes left the screen and looked at him as he tugged at your arm

-he drew you in close a trouble-making smile on his face

-“what are you doing?” you whispered

-“com’ere” he encouraged and drew you closer so that your head was resting on his shoulder

-“your mom-”

-“if you hear her coming, just pretend you’re asleep” 

-Ross slipped his hand beneath the blanket you had wrapped yourself in and tossed you a pillow to strategically cuddle over your frame

-it was the perfect cover for his hand as it slipped down the front of your sleep shorts and into your panties

-you took in a sharp inhale as your eyes went wide

-“Ross-”

-he hushed you

-“relax, unless you want my mom to know where my hand is…”

-you gave him a stern glance as you bit down on your lower lip in restraint

-you did your best not to move too much as his fingers stroked over the plain of your pelvis and dipped down

-but you did angle your hips just enough to help his hand with the awkward angle 

-you couldn’t risk anyone seeing the subtle movement of his arm

-Ross did his best to provide any of his movements and to disgust just where his hand had ended up by assuring that he was for the most part concealed by the blanket as well

-it was with that security that his hand began to move against you with confidence

-he had quickly learned what you liked

-and he enjoyed just how quickly he could have your reeling for him

-the added challenge of going unnoticed by his mother in the next room would only make it more difficult for you

-you would have to force composure

-you couldn’t make a sound

-and you couldn’t make a mess of the couch either

-it was a cruel thing to do to you really

-but it wasn’t purely self-indulgent

-as soon as his fingers could feel you becoming wet from his touch he began to struggle

-he could already feel his cock growing hard

-it earned a low “fuck” from his own lips as she leaned in to mutter his words into your hair 

-“i’m going to fuck you so good after they go to bed-”

-his final word was broken as he heard the shuffling of feet in the kitchen

-“you need anything before I head up for the night?”

-it was the voice of his mother

-sometimes she was too damn sweet for her own good

-because she walked straight into the living room and stood alongside the couch and down at you and Ross

-and you didn’t move an inch

-you weren’t even sure if you were breathing you had stilled so quickly

-petrified was the only way you could describe what you were feeling

-as Ross had delved his fingers deep inside you one final time before he stilled

-his fingers stayed there, deep in your cunt

-soaked in your arousal

-as you lay up against him pretending to have fallen asleep

-and she must had believed it

-because she didn’t seem to pry for more

-nor was she concerned

-you could only hear the smile in her voice as he spoke, “it’s so nice that the two of you are finally trying to get along”

-you felt Ross shrug and his head tilted carefully to one side as he gave off a nonchalant nod

-“i mean, i guess she’s alright”

-you did your best not to scowl

-and instead moved the only thing you could that his mother would not notice

-you flexed your cunt around his fingers

-and he made sure you know he felt it by hooking his fingers and dragging his fingertips over that spot that could so quickly make you unravel 

-“you headed up to bed?”

-“yeah, dad too,” his mom told him and you could hear her leaning over the arm of the couch to place a kiss on the top of his head

-“grab the lights?” Ross requested simply

-and then she walked away, her footsteps fading in the distance as she turned off the lights and left the main floor in darkness

-the two of you sat silent and still in the room for a long time

-your eyes opening up just enough to watch the movie

-all the while his fingers were still teasing the walls of your cunt

-“you think they’re asleep yet?” you whispered after what felt like ages

-“no way to know for sure…”

-Ross glanced back towards the stairs

-there was no glow from the bathroom at the top of the stairs

-and the house was quiet save for the credits of the movie 

-Ross reached for the remote with his free hand and turned off the tv to leave you both in complete darkness

-it brought a level of secrecy to the room

-one that gave you both the reassurance it shouldn’t

-with everyone else in bed, you shouldn’t get caught

-“you’re still soaked…”

-he told you carefully, his fingers returning to their slow pump once more

-it left you pushing the blanket aside and reaching for the drawstring of your shorts

-they were well soaked through and you were quick to dispose of them on the floor

-your panties were quick to follow 

-you kicked them aside before Ross was easing you back to lay out on the couch

-he pushed open your legs with ease and relished in the sight of you

-he pumped his fingers inside you deliberately, assuring to hit just the right spot that left you throwing your head back into the couch cushion

-your lips parted in a silent moan

-and while the sight of your pleasure was obscured by the darkness it left him grinning wide

-leaning in, he came to hover over you

-watching as your features melted with pleasure at his hand

-Ross didn’t stop until he felt your arousal dripping down his hands and the walls of your cunt flexing around his fingers

-and while he didn’t get to fuck you

-it would have been too much of a risk

-he was satisfied

-Ross withdraw his fingers, licking them clean before he reached down for your panties and sleep shorts

-he helped ease them back onto your weak legs before tossing the blanket back on top of you

-you looked up at him confused

-you should be making your way up to bed, and instead, Ross was making himself comfortable

-you raised a brow at him slowly, your head cocking to the side

-he opened his arm to you and welcomed you in as you came to rest your head against his chest

-he held you in his arms, his cheek pressed into the crown of your head and he became lost in the scent that was uniquely you

-“if my dad catches us here in the morning…”

-“it was a really boring movie, and you were already alseep,” he claimed

-and his lips coming down to kiss your hair carefully

-together you fell asleep on the sofa

-and come morning the sunlight would creep through the curtains and you too would wake together before his mother and your father could catch you

-and it wouldn’t be the last time you and Ross would take the risk

-the two of you liked to put yourselves in compromising positions…

[dutifullyshamelessearthquake]

For today's Sicktember prompt, "Wear your coat, you'll catch a cold," I was originally going to post a Cyno-centric one shot. Except I got a little too carried away writing it, and after asking you guys what you think, I decided to postpone the fic until after Sicktember, and turn it into a multi-chapter instead of simply a one shot!

While that means I don't have anything to post today, I have been working at the fic, so I thought it only fitting to share a small sneak peek of how it's been coming along. I'm having so much fun writing this, I hope you guys enjoy!

An hour later, both of them were sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, which had been lit and was casting a warm yellow glow across the cabin. Their damp clothes from earlier were hung up to dry, now dressed in thick, warm sleepwear. Cyno was huddled into the corner of the couch, with Tighnari curled up against him, his head resting against Cyno's chest, while he gently played with his hair. They were wrapped in one of the thick blankets from the bed.

Cyno was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. The busy day was quickly catching up to him, exhaustion settling deep in his bones. He rested his cheek against the couch, still running his fingers through Tighnari's soft hair. Tighnari himself seemed to be exhausted, eyes half-lidded as he watched the flames crackling in the fireplace. Occasionally he would sigh contentedly, snuggling up more tightly against Cyno.

Maybe he had started to drift off, because Cyno found himself being pulled back to reality by Tighnari's voice.

"...going to bed, I'm getting really sleepy. This day was just too long."

"What was that?" Cyno asked, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. "I think I was dozing off."

"I said we should probably start thinking about going to bed." Tighnari said with a tired chuckle. "I know it's still early, but I'm really tired."

"Me too." Cyno leaned over, resting his cheek against the top of Tighnari's head. He could smell the shampoo he usually used. "I'm beat."

"We're probably a little jetlagged as well." Tighnari had to stop talking, yawning. "Did you sleep much on the plane? I slept when I could."

"Not much, it was hard to fall asleep." A white lie, because Cyno knew Tighnari would lecture him if he knew Cyno hadn't slept a wink for the entire flight. It wasn't like he didn't try, but he could not get comfortable for the life of him. He was always amazed by how easily Tighnari slept on long flights.

"Mm." Tighnari's hand had found Cyno's beneath the blanket, squeezing it gently. "Bed?"

"Yeah, lets do that."

Cyno didn't get up immediately, still trying to gather the energy to do so. Tighnari stiffly got up, stretching out his arms a few times and yawning again, before beginning to put out the fire in the fireplace. Cyno finally pulled himself to his feet as well, walking over to the kitchen to get himself a last glass of water before bed. His throat felt so unnaturally dry for some reason, was that another result of the cold air? Cyno was beginning to realise he did not enjoy the cold very much, he'd much rather deal with heat. Which was funny, considering Tighnari had no tolerance to heat whatsoever. They sure balanced each other out in that regard.

At least it was warm inside the cabin. With the heat turned on, as well as the fireplace that had been burning for the last hour, it was cozy and warm. Still cold enough that Cyno was looking forward to curling up beneath the blankets, tightly huddled against Tighnari, but warm enough to he comfortable.

[ashipiko]

Pre 2, gen 2 3 8, love 3

LOVING THIS EMOTE RENNY TY for blessing my eyes 🫶

tho it is now ashace hour so. 😳

LOTS OF STUFF UNDER CUT!!! INCLUDES ART

ASK GAME HERE!

PRE-2.) What was their first impression of each other?

“Pfft. Ashi was soooo boring at first— Always ‘Don’t mess around!’ or ‘Riddle’ll have your head for that!’”

“…Was she wrong? Uhhhhh… Anyways!”

Ace found Ashi too similar to Riddle for him 😭😭 which TBH was an exaggeration

he found that she was a party pooper because she would always warn him before he did something stupid, but she was really fun to tease which made up for it <33

“Ace was a meanie, TBH. Like fun, yeah, but kinda annoying too! Though I gotta give it to him, I respect the guts to speak up to his dormhead like that.”

Ashi found Ace annoying too, and unreasonably mean 😔 but she was able to tolerate him, plus he was her only friend (apart from Grim) in the beginning 🫶 She also admired his ability of standing up for himself and others when he recognized something wack

GEN-2.) Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

“A date? Ahh, now that I think about it, I don’t think we really had a FR one? I think our hangouts eventually faded into dates… Besties to lovers, amirite? Haha!”

LIKE ASHI SAID the line between besties and S/O is INCREDIBLY thin between them 😭😭 so they never really had an official first date, but it was probs going out to get tarts or just hanging out in their secret garden at heartslabyul <3

GEN-3.) What was their first kiss like?

“Shhh! Listen, Ashi doesn’t know about this, but… Our first was technically before we started dating. She was fine with it! ...I’m pretty sure? Who the hell even sleeps while leaning on their ‘friend’ like that, huh?! It was bound to happen! W-Well actually, it wasn’t even a real kiss, just on the forehead— Gah! Whatever!”

Ace and Ashi’s first kiss (a kiss on the forehead) happened during Book 5, in the practice room <3 Everyone had gone out in the period where Deuce and Epel left, leaving the two of them alone 😳😳During this while they were doodling in Ashi’s notebook together, she happened to fall asleep on Ace and he just kinda. sat there like 😳

He claims that, “The vibe got a hold of me and then next thing I knew, I tucked her hair behind her ear and freaking!!! KISSED HER ON THE FOREHEAD.” another person claims to have walked in on Ashi waking up and Ace screaming <3

GEN-8.) Who gets jealous easier?

“Ha! You seriously think the guys at NRC have a chance at stealing my girl? Pfft, cmon. They’re all ugly losers! They got no shot! Unlike me~”

ACE 100% LIKE obvs ashi has her jelly moments BUT? she’s a charming pretty and charismatic girl in an all boys highschool of course she’s gon get people crushing on her 24/7 😭😭

not to mention Ashi is Ace’s partner in crime, rival, bestie and girl so he has a LOT to lose w her 😔 def the type to side eye and put his arm around her in attempt to drag her away

LOVE-3.) How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

“Cuddling with Ace is super cozy, actually! It’s always so fun and warm, it never gets old— Eh, is my face heating up?”

SLEEPOVERS EVERY WEEK W THESE TWO (unless it’s a busy week or someone’s overblotted again 😔) I think it just naturally happens whenever they’re both on a couch/bed and watching a movie or playing games together <3 so pretty often for cuddling I’d say

PDA THO..... I think ace would do it purely to flex that “HA I GET BITCHES” and Ashi would also participate despite getting HELLA flustered 😭😭 pre-relationship they already were pretty close physically but when dating they hold hands a LOT more often (like all the time) and just lean into eachother a lot 😳 plus the smoochies

it may happen on accident w/o them acknowledging that it’s PDA tho 😭😭

[princessasmosprincess]

Lisette Beaufort

I wanted to introduce my OC Lisette. She pops up a couple of times in Charmed, I'm Sure as a side character. The first picture is from 1909 (I did my best) and the second is modern times.

Lisette is a witch and a former high society socialite and heiress. She originally summoned Kallios to help her get out of her engagement to her fiancé whom she didn’t love (he sucked, he only wanted her for her money and how many babies she could give him). She refused to give Kallios her soul in return for their pact, leaving him to figure out some other sort of payment. Along the way she and Kallios fell in love, and she married him and moved to the Devildom where she was able to pursue her dream as a fashion designer. She currently owns and runs Majolish and Devil Style magazine, and has done so for the past 100 years. She's a partier and is good friends with Asmo and Mammon (Mams says she's the only witch he can tolerate, probably because she pays him and not the other way around). She’s not exactly immortal, but her skill in magic combined with her bond with Kallios froze her at the age of 30 and extended her life. She is gifted in divination (mostly through tarot) and she receives prophetic dreams but she can’t control what she sees or when they happen. Kallios's death devastated her and she was only able to get through it because of her dear friends, she cherishes each and every one deeply but she hasn't ever loved anyone else the way she did Kallios.

For her character design I wanted her to be almost "perfect" but just off. She's slim and tall, and always fits the fashionable silhouette. But her hair is light, which wasn't the popular hair color when she was younger, and she has unique amber eyes some might find off putting.

I answered some Get to Know My OC questions too:

1. She likes champagne and overly sweet, fruity cocktails. For non alcoholic drinks, Coca Cola is very nostalgic to her, something that hasn’t changed that much in all the years she’s been alive. She also likes tea.

2. Favorite flavor: Sweet, mostly.

3. Favorite food: She likes food in general so she doesn’t have one set favorite but if you asked her she’d probably say chocolate ice cream.

4. Dinner is her favorite because it’s the best time to dine with her beloved and friends, and after dinner comes dessert.

5. Once again, she’s not too picky about food but she doesn’t like meat that’s too bloody or fish that’s overcooked or too fishy.

6. At first she had difficulty tolerating spicy foods but living in the Devildom for over 100 years has raised her tolerance.

7. Favorite animal: Birds, specifically parrots. Kallios gifted her a hell cockatoo that she named Adonis.

8. She wears a nightgown to bed, usually something silky.

9. She sleeps on her back but sometimes she’ll sleep on her side, clutching a pillow (she really misses sleeping next to Kallios).

10. She’s more of a night owl because she loves to party but once she’s woken up in the morning she becomes alert rather quickly.

11. She’s usually an average sleeper, but on nights she gets prophetic dreams, she sleeps heavy.

12. She likes to sew on rainy days, there’s just something so cozy about the sound of the rain mixed with the clicking of the sewing machine.

13. She loves the smell of white florals and vanilla, also fresh herbs

14. What does she smell like: In the past she would have worn Jicky by Guerlain. Now she still keeps it very classic, she wears Chanel No. 5.

15. If she had the time she would take a leisurely bath every day.

16. Her cooking skills are pretty decent. Not gourmet but she can follow a recipe. She loved cooking together with her husband, it was quality time for them.

17. She loves fall, the weather is perfect.

18. Halloween, but she also loves Jill’s day because that was the first time she visited the Devildom.

19. She prefers making gifts for her loved ones. Usually it’s in the form of clothing she designed just for them, with love in every stitch.

20. She’s 5’7/170 cm

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Tw, Parental abuse, threats of murder, threatened violence against women, sexism, A boy being told to toughen up deal, being called names

Looking for support and validation (💛📼 sorry for the emojis i want to be able to find this post once it gets answered, don't know if this counts as symbols and is against the rules, im so sorry)

My dad (45) talks about how to could kill me at any moment anytime i (15M) am annoying to him. He's been doing it since i was a child, getting in my face and screaming about how he would brutally kill me if he could. Now that i'm a little older i try to make jokes like "you wouldn't i'm just so cool and awesome, i can't be killed" but he goes on about how "i could. i could. i can. i will kill you."

I feel like this is pennies compared to other people and their parents but i can't take it anymore. I'm tired of threats and hands on me and him getting in my face and the yelling and blowing up over little things like my nails or clothes or whatever. There's a stigma for boys and abuse, and it feels really isolating... I've heard all the "toughen up" and "man up" and "be stronger" and "you're being weak" and i'm really lonely

I know so many more women are victimized and oppressed and scrutinized and abused and hurt than men and i really don't want to take away from that, but i don't know what to do. I'm so tired and stressed and scared and lonely. Like i'm the only boy out here who is being yelled at and crying about it, i can't help but feel like im being weak for crying. He keeps talking about how men are so much better than women and can take them down and hurt them and i hate it.

he wont let me have a heater in my room, winter is coming soon and my room has shitty ventilation and insulation because i'm above the garage. He said no to the heater because my room is messy (bits of laundry and wrappers here and there, i think it's pretty clean and stuff) and therefore i'm a disgusting pig and going to burn the house down and should have thought about that before i asked. I'm so cold, my body is freezing, i can feel the coldness of my hands as i type this. Every winter is colder and colder these days. I'm thinking if buying a heater secretly tho! maybe i'll feel a little less sad if i can sleep warm and cozy...

thanks for reading, sorry this went into a tangent, i tried to tw everything at the top but i don't know if i did it all right, i'm sorry. Thank you again, thank you so much. I feel a little better now that i typed all this out. I should go to bed now, nightnight, have a good day, thank you.

Hi anon,

It sounds like you've experienced these threats so many times that you've become desensitized to them and have normalized them to the extent that you feel this experience is equivalent to "pennies" compared to others. But threats on your life should be taken seriously, regardless of who says it, how many times it's been said, or even your gender identity. You're right that the culture around boys and men is to be "tough" but that shouldn't mean tolerating abuse. You're not decentering misogynistic abuse by highlighting toxic masculinity. Your dad sounds like an incel.

Hearing about the heater situation is even more concerning because it's starting to sound like neglect as well as child endangerment. I recommend that you reach out to a crisis resource such as 741741 or 988. You can also take a look at this spreadsheet with other crisis resources, as some of those include crisis resources specifically for men or minors. If anyone has any additional suggestions or comments, please feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun