#AND EXTRA: MY CRAMPS ARE GONNA FUCKING KILL ME

[percyweasleyapologist]

BIO HW FOR ANYONE WHOSE WILLING TO HELP

I swear I usually wouldn't do this but I cannot for the life of me figure these out and I can't let my grade drop any further

erm yeahhh

this may also be so easy but my bio teacher is shit and I literally have to teach myself everything <3

and tysm to anyone whose willing to help!! I will forever love you istg

[chryblossomjjk]

midnight mistakes | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING: m/18+

⇢ WC: 2.5k

⇢ WARNINGS: v brief sm*t, v slight angst, oc is sick rip, pregnancy scare putting their relationship to the test eep!!!, brief mentions of abortion (reader considers it)

⇢ SUMMARY: a midnight romp with jungkook leads to tears on your cheeks and a pregnancy test in your hand

⇢ NOTES: i miss writing sm so here's a lil drabble of our otp :') school has been v overwhelming lately and it makes me so sad that i don't have as much time to write on here anymore. hopefully, things will calm down soon. for now, enjoy this crumb!! i love you all, let me know what you think!! if you haven't read the series yet, pls read that before this if u want to!! this wasn't beta'd so i apologize for any grammar issues or typos rip

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

The sequence of events that landed you in this situation; having a teary, heaving breakdown in front of your bathroom mirror, was absolutely ridiculous, to say the least.

“I’m gonna kill someone,” you squeak, breathless from the endless stream of sneezes ripping through you. The glow of the alarm clock on your nightstand reads 1 a.m. as you reach for a tissue. Violently blowing your nose does little to ease its congestion. With a shaky sigh, you crumple the sodden napkin and toss it into the bin beside your bed; overthrown by contents alike. The wet ball hits the paper mountain before rolling onto your pretty pink area rug.

You shiver, how fucking disgusting. 

A stressful week of labs and quizzes has tanked your immune system, making you susceptible to all the little germs and illnesses that strike when the brisk winter air transitions into the pollen-laced breeze of spring. The antibiotics you were prescribed did little to help your runny nose and sore throat. Pausing the anime playing on your phone, you open your messages. 

dumbo love you, get some rest please xx

So much for getting rest. You weren’t expecting a text back. Jungkook had offered to spend the night, but you encouraged him to go. It was his last semester after all. Still, you were pouty and needy, wanting nothing more than to snuggle into his arms and let the swirls of his delicate fingers on your back lull you to sleep. Instead, here you were, confined to your bed, watching Naruto solo as Jungkook, Tae, and Mina lived it up; taking shots until they were belligerent. 

A distinguishable knock rattles the door before you can press play again.

“What are you doing here?” 

Jungkook stands in your doorway, oversized black tee hanging over his equally oversized green cargo pants. His cute little mullet falls in sweaty loops around his face. “Still feelin’ like shit?” He coos, cringing at your disheveled appearance and the croak in your voice. Ignoring your question, he holds up the various items in his big hands. “I picked up a few things; cough drops—not the cherry kind ‘cause those are fucking nasty,” you laugh at the side note, “—extra spicy ramen and hot sauce to clear out your sinuses.”

Your peer at the array of remedies with wide eyes. Their ability to cure your flu symptoms is questionable. You don’t even have a way of boiling water to make said ramen in your cramped dorm, but the sentiment has your chest swelling with something other than a violent cough for the first time in days. Abruptly, you pull him into a tight embrace. 

“Ah, I see,” he laughs, wrapping an arm around the small of your back and walking you back into the room, kicking the door closed behind him. “My Bambi missed me.”

“I did,” you nuzzle into him further, “but you shouldn’t be here… you should be having fun with your friends.”

“Nah, fuck ‘em,” he retorts playfully, putting the quote-unquote medicine down and then plopping onto the bed, taking you with him. “Besides, what kind of shit boyfriend ditches their sick girlfriend to go to a party anyways?”

“The kind that should be enjoying his last semester,” you frown. 

“I am, though. I enjoy spending time with you more than anything else.”

As he lays under you, black tresses splayed against your white comforter like a misshapen halo, you feel so incredibly lucky. Gently, you run your fingers through his choppy bangs, pushing them out of his doe eyes. “Have you been drinking?” 

“Not really, just a couple shots of Fireball and a few beers.” That much alcohol would have knocked you on your lightweight ass, but after years of beer pong and keg stands, Jungkook’s tolerance was damn near Kage level. It took a lot more than that to get him drunk. “I kinda…” he averts your gaze, something he does when he’s sad or guilty. “I felt really bad so I left.”

“Jungkook, I told you it was okay.”

“I know,” he nods, sliding a warm palm under your shirt, rubbing his thumb against your skin in soothing lines. “But I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” Using your fingertip, you brush an eyelash off the apple of his cheek. “Thank you… for coming back for me.”

“Of course, Bambi.” He leans up and presses a deep kiss to your dehydrated lips.

“Kook, stop,” you mumble, craning your neck back. “You’re gonna get sick.”

“I don’t care.”

It doesn’t take much convincing. If Jungkook doesn’t care, why should you? 

What follows is a battle of warm tongues and the needy clash of his bunny teeth against yours. Tender touches coax your Sailor Moon pajama set to the floor with the promise of Jungkook’s delicious love. Before you know it, you’re sinking down onto his hard length, fingers digging into his shoulders as he slouches against your headboard.

“Take it all,” he whispers, jaw slacking as he tilts his head down, getting a clear view of your wet cunt swallowing the remaining few inches. A slick film coats the two fingers he used to hold himself up for you as your lip pillow around the base. “Yeah, just like that.” His face contorts in pleasure, overcome by your warm, slippery walls after a week of illness-induced celibacy. “Feels good, huh baby? Tell me how good my dick makes you feel.”

He wants praise and dirty talk, but the tickle in your nose makes you pause, bracing yourself as a slew of sneezes pours out of you. Eight sneezes to be exact. Jungkook’s high-pitched cackle is drowned out by a shriek as you cup your hand over your leaking nostrils. “EW!”

“Shut up, it’s fine!” He grabs a tissue from the nearly empty box. “Lemme see,” he mumbles, pulling your hand down and wiping it clean, then doing the same to your face afterward and tossing the kleenex in your glittery pink trash bin. 

“I’m sorry,” you peep, completely mortified.

“Don’t worry.” The crooked bunny grin eases your nerves. “That was fire, actually. You clenched around me so tight.”

You squint at him and then bury your head into the crook of his neck. You make love to each other; slow and gentle. At one point, Jungkook locks his tattooed fingers in between yours, pecking your bare shoulder as lazy drags of your hips bring you both to writhing climaxes. And he looks so beautiful when he climaxes, gnawing at his lip piercing, skin dewy from sweat and the moonlight shining through the blinds. 

At that moment, you felt nothing but love and pure ecstasy. 

Isn’t it funny how pleasures of the past can create complete devastation in the present?

Clutching the edge of the porcelain sink, you stare down at the pink box of pregnancy tests. There’s tear stains on your cheeks. A pain in your lungs from all the sobbing. You wish Jungkook had been a shit boyfriend that night. You’d give anything to take it all back. 

Like a sixth sense, there’s a distinguishable knock at the door. 

“Hey, I-” he stops short, brows furrowing as his dark pupils scan your face. “Have you been crying?”

“What do you think?” You shouldn’t snap at him, but the waves of anxiety washing over you make you highly sensitive. Truthfully, you weren’t going to tell Jungkook any of this. His showing up had put an awful wrench in your plans. Well, unless the test came back positive. Then, you’d be forced to tell him. You clamp your hand over your mouth, the thought making you sick to your stomach. 

“__, take a deep breath. Sit down.” You do and he follows suit. “What's going on?”  

“I-” you gulp, swallowing back a whine, struggling to form a coherent sentence. There’s no escape, you have to confess. “I think I might be pregnant.”

There’s an eerie silence once the words hit the air, lingering over you both like a dark, dreary cloud. It takes Jungkook a moment to internalize the weight of the situation, but you can tell when the thunder strikes. The pink tinge in his cheeks fades to a stark, sickly white as he inhales shakily. “Fuck-” Leaning his elbows against his knees, he digs the heels of his palms into his eyes, shielding them. “I thought you were on the pill.” 

“I am, but I was taking antibiotics last week and I read that they can make birth control less effective- and I’ve been having symptoms lately.” It all comes out in a jumbled mess like word vomit. He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t move. And it scares you. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.” Despite his posture, his tone is still and calm. “I just… don’t know what to say. It’s a lot to take in.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as the floodgates finally burst. You were still in the swell of your STEM program. Jungkook is just about to graduate with a Bachelor’s in photography. Both of your lives would come to a screeching halt if the worst were true. You weren’t ready for a baby, not in the slightest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, don’t-.” Finally, Jungkook sits up, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side. The other arm repeats as he rests his chin on top of your head, rocking your shaking frame back and forth for comfort. “Don’t apologize, don’t cry. Why don’t you take a test before we start freaking the fuck out?”

You suppose he’s right. 

The walk to the bathroom is a blur. Suddenly, you’re on the toilet with that evil stick in hand. Jungkook is sitting on the floor with his eyes closed, knees bent and head leaned back against the wood of the cabinet. Normally, you’re extremely pee-shy. It literally will not come out. Under these circumstances, you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“You pee so softly,” Jungkook says through an airy laugh. “I pee really hard- and fast. Like-” he makes a little whooshing noise with his mouth, “like a hose.” 

“Baby, please,” you huff, setting the test aside and pulling your sweats up. You know he’s trying to ease your nerves, but this is one situation where his lighthearted jokes and comments ceased to make you smile. “This is serious.”

“Trust me, I know.” Spreading his legs, he pats the carpet between them. “C’mere.” As soon as you hit the ground he’s embracing you, trailing kisses all over your exposed skin. “What now?”

“Now,” you sigh, setting a timer on your phone for three minutes, “we wait.”

“You know… it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if it’s positive.”

“It would be absolutely awful, Jungkook.” It’s a sweet sentiment but you know he’s lying, right through his bunny teeth. Late-night conversations in bed about the future ring in your head. ‘Honestly, I don’t think I want kids,’ Jungkook had hummed in the middle of My Neighbor Totoro, ‘ever.’ Generally, you felt the same way, but the memory is terrifying in this context; sitting on the bathroom floor with him, waiting for an answer that could contradict all of your plans and possibly crumble the entire foundation of your relationship.

“Who am I kidding?” He chuckles humorlessly. “You’re right, it would be fucking awful.”

Nervously, you toy with the silver rings on his inked fingers. “What if it’s positive, Jungkook?”

“Let’s just wait until we get the results.”

“But what if it’s positive?” You twist in his arms, showing him your glassy eyes and deep frown. Showing him that his answer, regardless of what the test says, was very important to you. 

He blinks at you, lips opening and then closing promptly as he mulls over his words. “If it is… then we’ll take care of it.”

There’s a dual meaning to the sentiment that makes you chew on your bottom lip, eyes flickering up to the white ceiling to stop yourself from crying. Take care of it as in going through with it? Or take care of it as in… the other option? Honestly, the latter would be your first choice, and you’re sure it’s his as well. But for whatever reason, the fact that he assumed it makes your heart ache. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means whatever you want it to mean.” Gently, he smooths a hand over your trembling thighs before they frantically search for yours. “Just… whatever you want to do… whatever you want, I’ll support it… I’m here.”

A breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in releases in relief. You feel stupid for even questioning him. After all these months of unconditional love, you should know better. Bringing your locked hands up, you kiss his fingertips. The smile it brings out of him is just as soft as your touch. “I love you so much.”

“I love y-.”

He’s cut off by the blaring ring of your timer.

“Please, can you look?” You mumble, shaking your head and covering your eyes. “I can’t do it.”

You feel his torso twist against your back as he reaches for the test on your countertop. The time between him grabbing it and the dreaded answer feels like an eternity.

“Negative.” 

“Thank fuck!” You groan, doing a complete 180 and wrapping your arms around his neck in celebration. You haven’t felt this type of excitement since you were a child, waking up on Christmas morning and seeing colorful presents under the tree.

“What made you think you were pregnant in the first place?”

You hesitate to respond. In retrospect, it’s not as valid of a reason as you originally thought. “I’ve been feeling sick in the morning.”

Pulling back, Jungkook deadpans you. “Bambi, no shit. You’ve been sick all week.”

“I know but,” you pout, twirling a ringlet at the nape of his neck, “google said I could be pregnant…”

“You’re so fucking lucky you’re cute,” he laughs, holding you flush to him and nipping your cheek playfully. “You’ve got to be the most dramatic person I’ve ever met in my life.” You know he’s joking, but the comment makes your expression drop a bit. “But that’s part of the reason I love you so much. I’m never bored with you.”

Once again, you truly don’t know how you got so lucky. 

“Alright,” he huffs, using all of his strength to haul you up into the air and walk you back to your bedroom. Instinctually and habitually, you wrap your legs around his cinched waist. “We finished Avatar last time, so what’re we watching tonight?”

You click your tongue in contemplation. “Naruto.”

“Naruto? Bambi, isn’t Naruto like- a billion episodes long?”

When he tosses you down onto the mattress, you pout and bat your long lashes at him, pulling out all the provenly successful manipulation tactics. “Please?”

“Fine,” he grumbles, plopping down beside you. “But don’t be mad if I knock out.”

And like clockwork, Jungkook dozes off in the middle of the second episode, but that’s okay, because despite how horrible the pregnancy scare was, it truly solidified Jungkook’s presence in your life. You have all the time in the world to watch hours and hours of subpar filler episodes, and you’ll do it happily as long as you’re with him.

© chryblossomjjk 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost]

[webslingingslasher]

this is frat!peter i’m crying

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cvm-mBPp8Jd/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

NO STOPPP WHY DO I WANNA WRITE THIS:::

ok so u see this trend right, and yeah, you’re gonna test the fuck out of peter so for the first time ever (since that one scare) you’re excited for your period. the second you get it- ITS TIME TO FUCK W HIM

you played it up all afternoon saying how you feel yucky because of cramps and your head hurts and he’s all ‘my baby :( come cuddle’ after a few hours you roll away for the bathroom and wait a few minutes and very timidly open the door.

‘petey?’

‘trouble?’

you stay silent- he looks up and sees you staring at your socks. you look ashamed.

‘what’s wrong?’

you nibble on your lip, ‘im on my period’

‘i’m aware, feeling extra crampy? wanna shower sex it up?’

-you almost toss the plan to the side. almost-

you shake your head, ‘something bad happened’

peter’s first thought was a leak, he throws his blankets back and looks over the sheets.

‘no, you’re all clear.’

‘um, i was trying to change my tampon.’

‘gross.’

‘and…. i can’t.’

peter catches on, he slowly rises from bed and throws a shirt on.

‘no biggie, text me what kind you use. i’ll go grab em.’

he’s too kind. you stop him.

‘no!’

your ‘panic’ stops him.

‘why, you want pads?’

‘no, i …’ you mumble the words, it makes him step closer, he pulls at your hand.

‘what’s that, mumbles?’

you look up to see his reaction, ‘it’s… stuck in me.’

his eyes flash down to your pajama shorts.

‘what’s stuck in you?’

‘my tampon.’

peter’s eyes shoot back down.

‘how… how does that happen? i don’t… what do you mean stuck?’

‘like- i can’t reach it. it’s up there.’

peter acts like he’s pulling a rope above him.

‘isn’t there like… one of these.’

you shake your head, ‘i mean it, peter. way up there.’ you look away when you ask, ‘will you help?’

peter stares at your crotch. ‘like… you want me to go fishing in there?’

‘i can’t reach it!’

‘i…’ he wants to say how gross it is, but he’d be joking and you seem embarrassed to even ask. plus, it’s not like you have anyone else to ask. he knows that area in and out, if anyone could do it quickly it’d be him.

your face falls when he walks away, you thought he’d be down for it. it’s just a joke but now you know he wouldn’t actually do it, it makes you feel hurt.

it’s like he can sense your upset.

‘i’m not leaving you, im getting the towel.’

the towel.

may got him a set of dark red towels to match with his frat, and one night when peter seemed a little desperate, you shut him down with a sorry pout.

‘shark week. trust me, with these cramps, it kills me to say no.’

it insulted peter you think that’d stop him. he hadn’t had period sex before that but he can imagine it’s the same just a little wetter, and he assumes you’d be extremely sensitive so…

he brings a red towel out and raises his eyebrows.

‘i’m down if you’re down.’

and since then, it’s the towel. it stays in the closet until it’s needed, then you wash it and return in.

a smile breaks over your face, he’s jumping into action.

‘no! you don’t have to! i was just testing you.’

peter’s closet door slowly shuts, ‘so, no stuck tampon?’

‘no, i just wanted to see if you would do it.’

‘oh. well, should i put the towel away?’

you step out from the bathroom doorway to look at him, you share a glance that says the same thing. peter tosses the towel to the bed while you answer.

‘no.’

[berrypass-de-murdler]

97. Bungalow Moral Character

This is the last episode I have pre-written, the last three are gonna have to be brand-new yippee!

I have given the blog an aesthetic makeover for extra murdlecore vibes, along with a brand new episode directory which like the design list will be updated constantly. Convenient list so you (or more likely I) can access all the episodes easily without scrolling through the archive

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!

So Logi and Tino head to the bungalows - residency for the Hollywood stars. Logico trips over a body in the middle of the path, and four heads peek out from their hidey-houses. Blaxton, Silverton, Abalone, and Uncle Midnight.

ABALONE: A-LIST ABALONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY! LOGICO: Um, YOU were arrested, and YOU don’t even work! U.MIDNIGHT: Haiiiiiii. Hehehehe [snort] LOGICO: Who is this body? ABALONE: Ohhh… looks like an extra. BLAXTON: If this keeps up, someone’s going to end up murdering Background Marengo! SILVERTON: Who the fuck is Background Marengo? LOGICO: OKAY, EVERYONE SPOKE, IT’S INVESTIGATION TIME. IRRATINO: What about me? LOGICO: FUUUUUU

The good news is, the bungalows are conveniently labeled 1, 2, 3, and 7, so the investigation can go ‘in order’.

(Kidding. The last one’s 4, idiot./silly)

The first bungalow is called 1, and is housing Silverton the Legend. It’s cramped, miserable, and full of stains. How did the A-List Actor end up here?

SILVERTON: Oh, Logico… it’s been horrible! People don’t respect my status anymore, even though I’m playing you in the film! My money is dying so rapidly! LOGICO: Sounds like a good reason to murder. I’ll put you on the list.

Up next, the second one looks more like an actual apartment. Uncle Midnight is hugging onto a refrigerator.

IRRATINO: [gaaaaaspppppppppp!!!!!] [sparkling eyes] LOGICO: What the fuck in the fuckingham are you gawking at? U.MIDNIGHT: T-BAGS!!!

He and Irratino reunite like old buds.

LOGICO: EWWWWWWW! YOU KNOW HIM?? “T-BAGS”?!? IRRATINO: Yeah, man! I’m allowed to know other people!  U.MIDNIGHT: Man, I’ve been preaching to the goddesses to find that face again. How you been my goat lord. IRRATINO: Kickin’! LOGICO: YOU DON’T TALK LIKE THAT!!

While Unkie can’t give MUCH information due to his mental state, he does admit that aside from spending time with his ‘IRL fam’, he has also wanted to get an award of his own. Logico checks that down and shudders.

In the LUXURIOUS Champion’s Room, also known as 3, Abalone is actively taking a shower. There’s a curtain at least, but no door to the bathroom whatsoever, so the boys have to barge in for the interrogation.

ABALONE: Abalo-NEYY, abalo-nEYYY, abalo-NEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYY!!!! LOGICO: SHUT UP!!! ABALONE: Oh my god, don’t you ever sing in the shower??

There are notably two showerheads, one on each end of the shower, gushing water into both her front and rear. She also gargles musically.

ABALONE: I think Silverton’s cabin is so ancient, he has a TYPEWRITER in there instead of a laptop!

Finally, the mysterious Bungalow 4, in which no one has ever been. It’s apparently so expensive, literally no one can afford it. 

It’s empty, and Hack Blaxton’s in there.

BLAXTON: I just want REVENGE!! LOGICO: On your brother? BLAXTON: What? No. On Argyle! He took my money! LOGICO: Your brother literally tried to kill you, but, okay.

He eliminates Blaxton as a suspect, because why would he kill this extra if he’s mad at Argyle? But that’s not much info. 

IRRATINO: I’ll do everyone’s horoscope. 

He does. And he realizes an important detail.

IRRATINO: Uncle Midnight was by a fridge.

Logico stands silently. LOGICO: …Irratino. IRRATINO: What? :D  LOGICO: I FUCKING SAW THAT WITH MY OWN EYE. IRRATINO: …Oh.

It’s up to Logi-Power to save the day instead. Who was the killer? (Here’s a hint: she’s done with her shower.)

ABALONE: Nobody here READS!

The three other boys shuffle around sheepishly.

ABALONE: So nobody should mind that I’ve stolen a book from the dead person! LOGICO: Well, it isn’t the theft we mind, so much as the MURDER? ABALONE: Oh please! He was an EXTRA! Nobody will miss him! It’s IN THE NAME!

Short King is not paying attention, because he sees a familiar silhouette in the distance.

IRRATINO: What? Who is it? What’s going on? LOGICO: The one that got away. IRRATINO: Oh. OH. Oh god. Well, this is… uh… (ahem) LOGICO: Got away with MURDER, Irratino, it’s DAME OBSIDIAN! IRRATINO: Oh. Oh! That’s great! [waves with a massive grin]

Obsidian struts over.

LOGICO: Oh no. Oh no no. What are you doing.

Sid holds up a key.

LOGICO: What is it. OBSIDIAN: [sly smile] A key.

She leaves, and the men follow. At least, that’s how she would write it.

The end!

Catgico

So normal about smushy potatoes labeled as detectives

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[karofsky]

PJ got his appetite back! I have to change his diet going forward to be pancreatitis-preventative and making sure he's extra hydrated, but what a fucking week. Last night was the first night I'd slept in my bed for a week rather than being cramped on a cot in my office. Both Finn and PJ were happy to snuggle, and I finally slept more than 2.5 hours. I have to clean my office at some point today because it just became a Cat Medical Quarantine warzone which might kill me, but I'm happy things are good for now.

Still gonna be off so I can catch up on work and messaging people back over the weekend, but woof. Hoping March is kind to me, because the last few months have Certainly Not Been

[dailyautophagy]

I still can’t believe I lived over 30 years without knowing that you were supposed to wash rice

before you cook it like I didn’t cook rice ever tho I learned when I started to cook rice because I wanted to do it correctly and the soup girl on TikTok that I am a fan of is fucking real good at making rice and she was like wash your fucking rice so of course I (now and forever more) will wash my fucking rice, but I didn’t know it was a thing

That wasn’t covered in home ec

And I use a fork to do it because I always think my hands are dirty and they’re gonna get fucking extra dirt on the rice, but it’s crazy that this is how you make rice water that you would like put in your hair and thought that this would be the same rice water as the rice water I purchased in a spray bottle from Walmart once upon a time for like probably $10 so It’s just real upsetting that we buy things that we don’t need all the time all the fucking time and then we’re like well. Why can’t we afford anything? We think we need other things evidently

Oh, and about the rice washing, you gotta do it twice or three times because if you wash once and you’re literally just stir the rice in the water and watch the water become murky as shit it’s crazy

Why do we wash the rice? I don’t really know. Are these stages that are making the watermark am I just removing some excess starches from this rice? What am I doing like this? Can’t actually just be dirt on the rice because… because I don’t want to be lol

Yeah, definitely wash this shit more than one time and if you want when you’re done, save the fucking rice, water runoff, and poured into your hair as shower water

There was a guy on TikTok that I mean he’s not past tense. He’s still there, but I am not a fan anymore because he is a liberal despite looking like a lumberjack. I’m pretty sure people know who this person is just by that description so fuck that guy very disappointed in him I always was a little iffy about him and i thought it was because of his hair lip scar and my being shallow or whatever but i think he just gave libtard vibes that i was ignoring due to his wood chopping lol

If you think abortion rights protect women you are wrong. I’m prochoice but do not act like it’s for our benefit that we are allowed to kill babies lol if my sister got raped I’d take her to get plan b nd then to our favorite restaurant to plan the murder and body disposal of the rapist, and if the plan b doesn’t work I’ll take her to a clinic or whatever she wants. It’s not a hard question to answer unless you’re a fucking people pleasing faggot.

It’s a good thing. My human is still 40 fucking minutes away because I am not done making any of the dinners in my belly hurts, but it is not because of period. Cramps it is because I ate the majority of a gluten-free chocolate brownie cake thing yesterday and I think I didn’t poop it out this morning like I don’t know what’s going on not a great choice for me. I want to go sit on the potty but I gotta finish this rice

so about the rice lol

After you wash the shit out of it to the point where like you mix it in cold water and it is not murky anymore then this is a cup of rice. We’re speaking about a cup of rice and then I do 1 and 3/4 cup of water and 2 tablespoons of olive oil and I salt it a decent amount and then I bring it to a boil and boil it for a minute specifically 1 minute lol and then I put the heat on the low and then cover it tightly and then I leave it like that for like 10 minutes and then I shut the heat off and I leave it until I remember that it exists

This is just a pot and a stove and rice cooker no bags of rice that you put in the microwave because you don’t eat those they have seed oils in them

Meal prep rice immediately and look up cardiac berri berri happening in like China because I’m pretty sure that is not what we want Hold on

Yeah, no I had to run downstairs because oh in the words of Austin Powers or fat bastard

I had a turtle head poking out

Holy shit, not ideal

When I did people to people in middle school, we went to Yellowstone National Park and there was a girl who was religious and she would say shit is not holy anytime I said holy shit. Which is pretty freaking hilarious to me still

This poop is so terrible. I feel like I might throw up about it.

Which is a problem no one else seems to have. I’m the only one that sometimes when they’re pooping also has to throw up despite not having a booze in me and not having a baby in me and not having any reason for this to happen other than I suck.

I mean, I’ve googled it so I’m not concerned too much but I am always very much aware when I didn’t consume enough fiber … one would think I’d make that a priority

Plus, according to Barbara, the main OK so I’m done pooping already by the way, but the main thing about macros you know how you think of it as protein and fat and carbs don’t think of it as protein and fat and carbs think of it as protein and fat and fiber that’s what your body wants and needs. Your body does not need carbs at all, I can have them and it knows what to do with them. It just does not need them.

I know it sounds like I might be advocating for the carnivore diet, but I am not lol but even Barbara was like you have to respect Dr. Adkins because his science was correct

So I like that about her lol and when one of her students tells her like the authors she’s quoting are infidels she’s like yeah, but their science is correct. She wasn’t always an Adventist. And I don’t think her children are. But she’d still be in a rainforest if not for the church so for that even I give thanks to god for saving her lol even though she knows it was her own decision to leave that saved her, she wouldn’t have been able to without the church. Six kids are hard to relocate lol

I have never respected a woman more, truly. I’m amazed she still travels to speak. It’s grossly expensive and I’ve heard it all before and you can’t like actually 1-on-1 talk to her anyway so there’d be no point.

Now we wait

Rice that sits longer tastes better lol but like an hour tops and then eat that shit cause it really does start to grow mold overnight lol

I’m not positive about that actually whatever tho

HE IS HERE

okay bye lol

[bluemoonshadow561]

On the Way, Part 1

"My stomach hurts," August whined, curling in on himself and pressing his forehead against the window of his brother’s Mercury Milan.

"I think I know what you might have," Roman said, speaking for the first time since throwing a tantrum over having to sit in the back, exaggerating how little leg room he had — that he needs to stretch because he’s an athlete, he gets cramped, he’s taller than August, waaahhhhh.

"What?" August asked.

"Being a little bitch disease." The way Roman delivered his idiotic go-to insult with such genuine satisfaction and contempt made my lips twitch into a smirk. I turned away so he wouldn’t see.

"Fuck you," August spat, flashing his middle finger as he shifted again in the passenger seat. I glanced over at him, catching a glimpse of his face before he let it droop down, curling in on himself. His usual sun kissed skin was pale tinged with green. I had the air on full blast, but beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead. I was preparing myself for when he’d inevitably puke, trying to make plans for how to handle the situation.

"You’ve got the bag I gave you?"

"Yeah. I’m not gonna throw up on Shelly."

"When are we stop-"

BANG! A bomb went off. That was my first thought. Then I thought we were in a wreck but we were still moving, erratically, swerving. A car laid on their horn. My instincts kicked in, and I hit the breaks, moving the wheel until we stopped on the shoulder.

"What the fuck?" Roman screamed.

"A tire blew out," I breathed, my heart pounding in my throat, my mind racing with the horror of almost killing myself and my brothers.

"Jesus," August whispered.

"Everyone okay?" I asked, but Roman was already getting out of the car. I opened my door and followed him out.

"Holy shit…" Roman remarked.

"God damn it," I sighed, trying to breathe through the anger boiling within me.

August opened the door and fell out onto the ground on his knees, groaning and clutching his stomach.

"What are we gonna do now?" Roman asked. "Can you fix it?"

"No," I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I have to call Triple A."

When I got off the phone, August was lying on the ground in fetal position, breathing rapidly and whimpering softly. I crouched next to him and laid my hand on his shoulder.

"You good?"

"I-"

He suddenly retched and lunged forward, vomiting onto the ground. I grimaced as I watched him heave and gag for the next ten or so minutes before finally wiping his mouth on his sleeve and standing up unsteadily to kick dirt and gravel over the puddle.

He stumbled, hunched over, back to the car and leaned heavily on the door, one arm wrapped around his middle, the other gripping the roof for support. He was swaying and his legs were trembling.

"Are you alright?" I asked. "Roman, get him a water."

"I don’t feel good."

I placed the back of my hand against his forehead, like Mom had done for me, like I had done for August and Roman on days when we came home from school and it was just the three of us until the dark hours of the morning. I cooked chicken noodle soup, coaxed thermometers under their tongues, grabbed extra blankets, wiped their noses, and read them stories until they fell asleep.

August’s skin was burning hot. I opened the door and sat him back down in the seat.

"Here." Roman handed him a bottle of water from the cooler. August struggled to twist the cap off with shaking and sweaty fingers. After Roman did it for him, he took one sip. He really did not look well.

"How long until the Triple A people get here ?" Roman asked.

"I don’t know."

"Should we call Mom?"

"She’s just gonna scream," August said through gritted teeth. "And she’ll scream when we’re late."

"Yeah…"

"Ow!" August cried out suddenly.

"What?" I asked.

"My stomach…" He doubled over, gasping. "…hurts...so fucking much."

"Where does it hurt?" I asked, crouching down to meet him at eye level. I wasn’t a doctor. There was nothing I could determine from knowing where the pain was. I knew vaguely that appendicitis caused a pain on your right side. That was about the extent of my knowledge.

"I don’t know," he said. "All over?"

——End of Part 1——

[frozenprincessshay]

Kirishima Period Comfort

Summary: Your uterus is attacking you and your loving boyfriend, Kirishima, just wants to help.

Tags: Fluff, Period Comfort, Cuddles.

Training finally ended. You clutch your stomach as the cramps in your stomach attempt to kill you. Bakugou had not for a second taken it easy on you. You usually appreciate the equality Bakugou was born and raised with, but today you really wished he was an anti-feminist. You stumble into the dorms, passing a forming group of random 1A students in the common room. “Hey, Pebble.”, you heard your cheerful boyfriend call from the sofa. You swallow, you loved Kirishima but today, you really just wanted to be on your own. “Come sit with us.” He continued. You muscle up a smile, “No, thanks. I’m just kinda tired from training, so I’m gonna go to my room.” “O-okay.” Kirishima replied, looking a little worried. You didn’t like that; you didn’t want him to worry about you. You stand as straight as you could and smile widely. As Bakugou walks by, you elbow him, “I’m gonna beat your ass next time though.” Bakugou balled his fists and waved them at you, “You wanna fucking go, Extra.” “Oh, I’ll definitely beat you up. Tomorrow.” You wink at Kirishima, noticing his worried expression dissipate into a friendly smile to his best friend and girlfriend. Satisfied, you walk to the elevator, ready to curl up in a ball of blankets and discomfort.

As soon as you leave, Ejiro’s smile drops and he looks longingly after you. Mina, who was next to him noticed, “Hey, what’s up with you?” Ejiro looks at her, forcing an unconvincing smile, “It’s nothing.” To which Mina replies with a deadpan expression and an unheard, “Really?” Ejiro sighed, defeated, “It’s just that- she’s been different since yesterday. Kinda distant. Do you think I did something wrong?” “What? No. She adores you.” Mina says with the surety that Ejiro just didn’t have right now. He asked in a small voice, “Then why is she acting like that?” Jiro, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation asked, “What’s today’s date?” Ochaco replied with the date. “Oh,” she smiles knowingly, “The red demon as arrived.” Asui inquired, “How do you know, kirro?” “Cause she gets hers before I get mine.” Mina laughed, “Aw, poor her.” Ejiro looked between the girl confused, “Sorry, what?” Everyone looked a little surprised. “You don’t know?” Yao-momo asked. Ejiro shook his head in puzzlement. Mina replied with a horrified expression, “She’s your girlfriend, Kiri. You have to know these things.” Ejiro was slowly losing his patience, “Know what, Mina?” Jiro not a fan of this drawn-out useless conversation, “She’s on her period, Kirishima.” “Oh,” Ejiro vaguely remembered the mention of periods in sex ed. He knew that meant a woman would be bleeding for a certain amount of time, but that still didn’t understand why you were avoiding him. “But why is she being distant with me? I don’t care that she’d on her period.” Mina sighed, “Kiri. The poor thing’s probably in pain.” “In pain?!” Ejiro asked, fully alert now, “Why is she in pain?” “The cramps, Kirishima, pure torture.” Jiro replied. Ochaco piped in, “Yeah, and if I know your girlfriend, she hates taking pain medication.” Yao-momo confirmed, “Yes, that’s true. I did offer her once but she declined.” Ejiro knew that well enough. Whenever you got injured, you’d never admit to being any degree of serious. You’d always attempt to deal with it without seeing Recovery Girl. You and Ejiro hadn’t been dating very long, probably a little over a month, but he wished you had told him that you were suffering. Ejiro pouted, feeling helpless in this situation where he really wanted to help, “Then what should I do?” The girls pitied the well-meaning boyfriend. Mina said, “Okay, Kiri, this is what you have to do.”

You’d been trying to sleep for what felt like hours. But the cramps in your stomach refused to let you find any semblance of peace. You’d alternated between kicking the blanket of you, to pulling it to you neck, only to kick it back down again. You’d tossed and turned in an attempt to find a comfortable position but every one seemed to back your pain worse. You were on the verge of tears. You one hand on your lower stomach to try and bring some warmth to sooth your cramps, but it was next to useless. In the midst of changing position again, you hear a knock on the door. You ignore it in the hope that whoever it was would think you’re sleeping. However, the handle rattled and inside walked your boyfriend, Kirishima. You groaned internally, but externally you said as nicely as you could in your state, “Eji, I really can’t talk right now can you please-” “The girls told me you’re on your period.” Ejiro cut in. You groan externally now, “Is it that obvious?” “Apparently, Jiro’s period is right after yours…?” You exhale, “Right.” His expression saddened, “You could have told me you were in pain.” You look away from him, “It’s not really a big deal. I can handle it.” “I’m your boyfriend, I’m supposed to know this stuff.” He parrots Mina’s words. Your eyes flick to his and you feel guilty. The worry he’d been feeling was obvious in his scrunched eyebrows and worry etched into his facial features. “I’m sorry.” You say. He smiled. Kirishima Ejiro everyone, always so quick to forgive. “Well, I got you some stuff.” Ejiro held up a plastic packet enthusiastically before placing it on the bed to reveal its contents. “The girl’s told me you don’t like taking medication for it so I didn’t get that,” he sounded dubious about not getting the medication but nevertheless continued, “I got you the chocolate cake that you love. And burgers from McDonalds along with that iced coffee you like and-” You chuckle, so much thought must have gone into what he was buying and not everyone would go out of their way to buy their girlfriend’s favorites, “How did I get so lucky with the best boyfriend ever?” Ejiro’s face almost blended in with his hair, “I wouldn’t go that far.” “I would,” you say, then looking at all the stuff he bought, “Eji, I’m sorry but I can’t possible eat all this right now. I really just want to sleep, please.” Ejiro nods, understandingly, putting the packet down. “That’s okay. We can eat it when you wake up.” He notices your hand on your stomach and frowns, “Does it hurt a lot?” You shake your head, and lie, “Nah, I’m good.” “Then why do you have your hand on your stomach?” You huff a laugh, “You got me there. I don’t have a heating pad, so I’m trying to sooth the cramps with the warmth of my hand.” “Is it working?” “Um…” “What if I put my hand?” before you say anything Ejiro places his hand just a little down of yours so half of his hand lay on yours and the other on your stomach. You were about to protest but his hand was just so much warmer than yours. You pull your hand away from his. The warmth of his palm slowly calmed the worst of your cramps. Your eyes close from the little bit of peace and you place your hand over his pushing down gently. “Ejiro, would it be okay if we stayed like this? Just so I can sleep. You can leave after that; it just feels so nice.” Ejiro didn’t even hesitate. He says, with a toothy grin, “Of course, anything to help my Baby Shark.” You scoot a little to the edge of the bed to make room for Ejiro to shift onto it. You relax for the first time that day when Ejiro and you were comfortable situated next to each other. With your eyes already closing you say, “Thank you, Ejiro.” He kisses the side of your head, being careful not to move his hand at all, “Goodnight, Pebble.” You fall into blissful sleep, so grateful for a caring boyfriend like Ejiro.

When morning came, you shift in your bed and were a little surprised to bump into something heavy. You looked up to find Ejiro still here. You wondered distantly if he had stayed deliberately or had just fallen asleep here. Either way, you were happy to wake up surrounded by his warmth and comfort.

[astaroth1357]

I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)

So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭

MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits

Lucifer 

It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty… 

Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…

MC: “Good morning, love.”

Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…

They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...

MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression*  “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”

The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.

MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”

Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.

MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”

Mammon

Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!

He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-

MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”

First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….

Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.

MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”

Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.

Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”

MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”

Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.

Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”

MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”

Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.

Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”

MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”

Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”

Leviathan 

Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…

When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…

When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???

When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!

Levi: ……….

MC: ………….

MC: …. “I can explain.”

Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”

MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”

Levi: “You think??”

Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was  literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too… 

MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”

Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”

MC: “Okay...?”

MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”

Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...

Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*

Levi: “Uh… just one more?”

Satan

When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit?? 

When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat… 

I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?

After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!

Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”

When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…

They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.

MC: … Page 47.

They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.

Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏

Asmodeus 

Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...

Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!

Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)

Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.

What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!

Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”

MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”

They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.

MC: “… Or just at me?”

Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.

Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭

MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”

Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘

And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...

Beelzebub 

Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...

What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup…. 

Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.

MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”

Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.

The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…) 

MC: “Congratulations!!!”

They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.

Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”

MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”

The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.

MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”

As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??

Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”

MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”

MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*

MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”

They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…

Let’s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏

Belphegor 

Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...

But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.

MC: “Beeelllppphie….”

The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Belphie: “What now...?”

MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”

What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!

Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”

MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”

They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.

Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”

His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...

While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.

MC: *grins* “Mine now!”

They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.

Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏

The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.

MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”

Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”

MC: “Belphie!!!” 😫

They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!

[mypoisonedvine]

the martyrdom of st. valentine (and other romantic stories) || dark!Bucky & dark!(stepbrother?)Steve x reader

summary: you wanted to surprise your boyfriend on valentine's day, but he and your foster brother have a surprise of their own.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut (heavy dubcon to the point of pretty much noncon), kinda stepcest (as per summary, steve is the reader's foster brother), bondage, a lil touch of degradation

2/14 to-do list

get waxed

get Steve out of the apartment

pick up chocolate-covered strawberries from bakery on 6th

blindfold and handcuff myself to the bed

be waiting for Bucky naked when he gets here

You sighed as you looked down at the paper, crossing the first and third items off the list. The second was going to be a bit harder, unfortunately; your foster brother had a habit of hanging around and cramping your style as much as he could manage. He felt like a real brother in that way… okay, maybe he felt like a real brother in most ways, a consequence of knowing him for most of your life, but he was definitely not your real brother. You remembered that each time you caught yourself staring too long when he was shirtless, or returning from the gym all veiny and glistening with sweat.

But you also remembered that he was still the closest thing to a real brother you'd ever had, and you scolded yourself internally for ever acting differently.

It didn’t matter now— you had Bucky, and he was the most amazing guy you’d ever met.  No, Steve was definitely not happy that introducing his best friend to his sister led to a relationship forming, but he couldn’t stop either of you in spite of his efforts to keep you apart.

Bucky had once expressed his suspicions that it was at least in part due to jealousy, if subliminal.  But you denied it unilaterally— he’s basically my brother, you told him, though it was more of a reminder to yourself than anything.

Perverted concerns about Steve’s motivations aside, Bucky was a great guy.  A bit of a sweet-talker for sure, and not exactly known for his ability to keep a long-term, serious relationship, but he was adamant that you had changed that and for once you were beginning to believe him.  You’d said from the beginning that you didn’t need this to be the proverbial ‘it’ for either of you but that you didn’t do hook-ups— especially with your brother’s friends, and extra especially with your brother’s closest and longest friend.  It only took a brief speech and two shots to convince you, now six months later and you were still going strong.

Days like this made you so happy you’d given in to his advances.  But they also made you regret giving in to Steve’s idea to be roommates in college.

“Stevie!” you yelped as he walked in, stuffing the to-do list into your backpocket.  “Just the man I wanted to see.”

“I doubt that,” he scoffed.  “It’s Valentine’s Day, I bet you want to see Bucky.  He’s coming over, right?  And you want me to fuck off so my best friend can go to town on my sister?”

You frowned, crossing your arms.  “I wanted to see you because I have a gift for you.”

“... you do?”  His eyebrow raised and you hoped your smirk looked just as smug as it felt.

“So do you want your gift or do you want to be an asshole?”

“Do I have to pick just one?” he joked.

“Just come over here,” you instructed, waving him closer.  He seemed hesitant, but eventually did as you’d asked.  From your other back pocket you pulled out two tickets.

“Rangers, center ice,” you beamed.  “For you and a date.”

“And this isn’t just an excuse to get me out of the house?”

“No, it’s a thank you for being such a great brother.”

“So, if I wanted to take Bucky…” he trailed off, already calling your bluff as you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, that’s just sad.  There’s no reason you can’t find a girl to take— god knows Bucky hasn’t spent a Valentine’s Day alone since the fucking eighth grade.  And you’re just as cute as he is!”

“Well, if you could alert the rest of the female population to that, that would be great,” he scoffed, “but until then I’ll take the tickets,” he decided as he took them from your hand.  “A Rangers game might be the only thing distracting enough to keep me from thinking about what you and Buck are gonna do while I’m gone.”

You were hoping for a little more enthusiasm considering how much the tickets had cost you, but at least he was going to go and give you the apartment to yourself for the evening.  “You’re welcome, by the way.”

After stripping and sprinkling rose petals on the comforter, you'd actually found a YouTube tutorial on how to blindfold and handcuff oneself, and it was a little odd that enough people had this problem to merit its existence but it was still very helpful: turns out the secret is to blindfold yourself first but keep it folded up with one eye able to see until you do the handcuffs, then use your arm to slide the blindfold down into place.

It was tricky, and a little bit extra awkward while naked, but you figured it out and smiled proudly to yourself as you completed your last task on your to-do list.

Now, for likely the most difficult task of all: waiting in darkness and silence for Bucky to arrive.

Apparently it is, in fact, possible to be slightly bored yet titillated.  The thought of what Bucky would do to you when he got here was exciting, but it only made you crave his presence more which enhanced your quiet loneliness.  It wasn't like you could read a book or listen to music to kill the time, so you settled for humming to yourself as you waited.

Don't go changing, to try and please me, something something before, hmmm

I just want someone that I can talk to, I want you just the way you are...

But that grew tiresome quickly and you resorted instead to planning exacty how angry you would be if Bucky was late when you were waiting for him in such a compromising and inconvenient state.  For a moment you imagined he'd really gone to the Rangers game with Steve and became briefly livid over a hypothetical situation.

The crackling roar of Bucky's motorcycle outside was distant but undeniable, making you smile in anticipation.  You worried for a moment that you might have locked the top lock of the front door by instinct, but thankfully Bucky and to make it inside alright since next thing you knew, your bedroom door was opening.

The rattle of the doorknob made your breath catch; you opened your legs slowly in time with the quiet creak of the hinges.  “I’ve been waiting for you…” you purred.

“Hi there, babydoll,” Bucky’s voice answered back huskily.

The heavy steps of his boots made it clear he hadn't taken his shoes off at the door, a habit that had driven you crazy since he was your annoying brother's also-annoying best friend.  Was this the real reason he'd chained you up, so he could freely irritate you?  What next, was he gonna put a cold drink on your nightstand without a coaster?

"You really went all out for me, sweetheart," he noticed, his voice closer than you'd expected; it was fun to not know exactly where he would be, it made you squirm under the gaze you couldn't see but could somehow feel.

How weight joining yours on the bed was a good sign to his location though, along with his hands sliding up your legs.

“Look at this pretty pussy,” he cooed pridefully as he dove in suddenly and licked a thick stripe through your folds.

“Fuck,” you shivered, tugging on your handcuffs unintentionally.

“Feel good, babygirl?” he pressed, chuckling when you nodded.  “You want more?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

He didn’t get back to it right away, the weight on the bed shifting slightly, and it made you fear that he planned to make you beg more before eating you out— but finally his lips returned to you as his tongue explored your sex.

“Oh god,” you moaned, your back arching of its own volition.  It was a little different than he normally did this— less confident and measured, more cautious yet hungry.  Typically he teased you a lot more, knowing exactly the spots that drove you wild and intentionally leaving them understimulated until you begged him to let you come, but now as soon as he found them he was targeting them— perhaps a rare show of mercy from the guy who was normally happy to leave you on edge for hours.

You could feel his moans vibrating into you when he slid his tongue inside and against your channel; it instantly made your back arch as the handcuffs quietly clinked above your head.

He stopped just a little too soon, pulling your hips up until the back of your legs were resting on the front of his.  Being manhandled by him turned you on enough to make you bite your lip.

"Fuck, put your cock in me, wanna feel you," you moaned your plea as you heard the rustling of clothes; your mouth watered when you imagined Bucky stripping, with that insane body of his.

His thick head glided over your entrance and you were preparing to beg some more when he suddenly pushed in, giving you what you wanted so much faster than normal.  Not that you were complaining!

He was also much quieter than normal, which you were actually willing to complain about but didn't.

"Oh god," you groaned at the feeling of him stretching you open, gasping when his cock brushed right over your spot— it made your body jolt each time he pulled back and hit it again.

"Feels good, huh?" Bucky asked and you nodded happily.

"So good," you whimpered.

"I wasn't asking you."

Before you could question it, Bucky’s calloused fingers pulled up your blindfold— but it was Steve’s face above you, Steve’s body on top of yours… and, much to your horror, Steve’s cock inside you.

“What the fuck?!” you yelped, trying to squirm away as you tugged at the cuffs but failing completely.

“Fuck,” Steve winced, “you get really tight when you struggle like that.”

“Don’t act so surprised, babygirl,” Bucky cooed playfully as you turned to stare at his devilish grin.  “You wanted this… you just didn’t want to admit it to yourself.  And Stevie here always wanted this, too, and aren’t you so glad he told me?”

You shuddered as Steve continued thrusting, pushing his cock so deep it made you feel a little nauseous.  "Steve, you've gotta stop," you begged.   "If you love me, you'll stop."

"That's the thing: I love you too much to stop."

He moved faster, paying no mind to your confused whimpers, holding your hips tight as his head fell back slightly which brandished his thick neck and bobbing Adam's apple.

"There's no point in pretending," Bucky reminded you coldly, watching the whole thing with crossed arms and an expression that almost looked… bemused?  "You already showed us how much you love it, so don't waste your time acting so disgusted now."

You regretted more than anything saying that it felt good, literally asking him to fuck you before you really understood what you were asking for: you thought it was Bucky, yes, but that didn't mean it was an act.  It did feel good, and that must've been obvious to everyone since you were so wet already.  You could hear it each time he pushed all the way in, that telltale squelching noise that was somehow disgusting and hot all at once.

Steve wasn't so quiet now that he didn't have to be.  "God, you feel so good," he whispered, grabbing the backs of your knees and pushing your legs up.  It forced his cock even deeper and you choked on your own suppressed moan.

You heard Bucky opening his belt, and turned your head to see him pull out and stroke his cock while he watched Steve fuck you.  It was hard to imagine what he was getting out of this; he never seemed like the sharing type, if anything he sometimes became too possessive.  But clearly there was a lot about him and Steve that you didn't understand.

"Play with her tits," Bucky instructed, voice a bit deeper as he pleasured himself, "makes her come so fast."

Steve dropped your legs to rest on his shoulders so his hands were free to grope your chest, thick fingers twisting and tugging your nipples.  Annoyingly, Bucky knew his way around your body well by now, and so it was difficult to pretend that Steve's touches weren't sending shocks of pleasure right down your spine and to your core.

You had been biting on your lip so hard to stay quiet that you feared you would break the skin, until Bucky leaned down and gave you a little slap on the cheek— not very hard, but enough to make you gasp which in turn released the moan you'd been holding back.

"There it is, honey, don't be quiet for my benefit," Bucky encouraged.  "It's okay to like it, I'm not gonna be jealous."

As if that was your concern; angering your boyfriend by enjoying being fucked by your foster brother.  

"You really overestimate my interest in your— fuck— in your feelings," you panted as you glared up at Bucky where he was grinning down at you with a look that almost indicated pride.

"You're gonna come, aren't you?" he asked, ignoring your resistance entirely.  Whatever chance you had at pretending he was wrong was lost when, just for a moment, your eyes widened at his question.  "Yeah, thought so.  I can tell by that dumb look on your face.  I'm close too, babydoll, betcha wanna taste it…"

His free hand roughly held your jaw open as he stroked himself desperately, his weak groan coinciding with the moment you felt his hot seed spray into your open mouth, his taste familiar despite the entirely surreal circumstances.

It was purely coincidence that you came in that moment, your walls bearing down on Steve while you tried to stay silent so you wouldn't choke on Bucky's spend.

"Fuck, that's it, gonna fill this pretty mouth— god yes, you'd better swallow it all," he sighed as come painted your tongue and the inside of your cheek.  Maybe it was more than normal or maybe it was just that he was tightening his hand around the head of his cock to get every drop in your mouth, but either way it was enough to give you quite a mouthful to swallow, which you did without much question due to force of habit.

"M’close too," Steve warned as Bucky stepped back, "I'm gonna come."

“No, Steve, not inside,” you whimpered, hearing the way your voice had weakened after your orgasm, “you can’t…”

“I can,” he disagreed, “Bucky said so.”

Once again, Bucky's will was more important than your own, and your desperate pulling at the handcuffs was only another reminder of the way you'd guided yourself into his trap.

"Don't," you stammered one more time, but it was hard to focus when he was filling you exactly how you needed, when his thick hands gripping your waist felt just as perfect as you'd secretly imagined so many times… 

Denial is a powerful drug, but so is two orgasms in a row.

"Fuck!" you yelped as you felt a gush of warmth drip from your entrance, even further wetness spurring on Steve's fast and brutal thrusts into you.

"Knew you'd love it," Steve mumbled, growling slightly as he slammed into you.  "Knew you'd take it so well, make a pretty mess all over my cock— fuck I can't wait anymore, gotta fill you up, oh my god... gotta give you my load, honey, you want it?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "Steve, yes, come in me…"

He didn't need much more encouragement than that, groaning loudly as you felt his cock flex and pulse against your walls, his release overwhelmingly hot inside you.

You sighed in time with Steve as he finally stilled, and it was hard to know where to look when Steve and Bucky were both staring down at you.  “What happens now?” you found yourself asking, not so much a literal question about the next task but more about what the three of you were going to do with all the unfortunate truths that had come to light in less than half an hour.

“What happens now is I take my turn,” Bucky informed you sternly, pushing Steve aside.  “Did you really think I wasn’t gonna fuck my girlfriend on Valentine’s Day?”

[mintmatcha]

I want giggly cuddly sex with tadashi 🥺 where there’s no power dynamic just us two having a good time and wanting to make the other feel good :((

I combined these two little ditties into a fic!!! I hope you don’t mind!!!

CW: established relationship, praise, sex, fluff/smut. 

yamaguchi x reader 

(reader has a vagina- no pronouns or gendered language used)

first time

It's one of the pitfalls of a new relationship; everything the other person does is endearing. 

"I'm just saying, it's weird that the fourth movie is so good!" Yamaguchi digs his hand into the bowl on your lap, picking through the entire bowl to scrape at the popcorn kernels. He tosses the bits into his mouth and chews thoughtfully, cracking through each kernel loudly, before pausing to suck the excess salt off of his fingers. 

God, if anyone else did that, you'd probably be disgusted, or at the very least annoyed, but there's something about Yamaguchi that makes it unbearably endearing. Maybe it's the little shoulder dance he does every time he takes a bite. Maybe it's the way your heart skips a beat when his tongue swipes over his knuckle, catching a bit butter. "Name another series that has a good fourth movie. You can't. Scream 4 is one of a kind." 

He does it again, crunching through the kernels happily, tongue peeking out once again to wipe across his fingertips.

God, you wished he would lick you like that. 

"Tadashi, you're gonna break a tooth." you chide, even as you sink further into his lap. There was plenty of space on the couch, but you had somehow migrated to his lap sometime during the previous movie. The arm around your shoulder tightens, pulling you into a kiss on the cheek. It's greasy with butter residue, but somehow it still makes your heart flutter. 

Fuck. Only 3 months into the relationship and you were wrapped around his finger, watching movies that you didn’t have any interest in. Any little annoyance was forgotten as soon as he flashed you that freckled smile. Every little nuance you discovered made you fall deeper into .... like.

Not love. Like. You weren't ready to admit to the 'love' word quite yet, but it was getting closer. You had been 'in like' with Yamaguchi since shortly after he moved into the cubicle next to yours.  Maybe it had been the way he always remembered to grab you an extra sugar packet for your coffee, or the way he laughed at whatever podcast he was listening to that day, or the way he silently procrastinated at the end of the day so you could walk to bus together: whatever it was that won you over didn’t matter, what did matter was that Yamaguchi made you feel happier than anyone else.  It felt natural to be with him, to be held by him, to be ‘liked’ by him.

...Your only complaint was the pacing. One of the best and worst things about the two of you was that you were both polite, constantly dancing around unsaid boundaries, trying overly hard to respect each other, avoiding any situation that could possibly make the other one uncomfortable. Which meant your physical relationship was nothing more than the occasional kiss.

Honestly, you were beginning to think he didn't want to. His hands never wandered, his texts never turned dirty, and you certainly never initiated anything. It felt like there was never an opportunity to start anything; even now, sitting on his lap while wearing a sweatshirt he had left at your apartment weeks ago, it felt wrong to interrupt a wholesome moment.

Not that you didn't want to. God. You wanted to.

"You know,  I don't think anyone's ever worn my hoodie before." he comments, eyes never leaving the television. He’s enthralled with this stupid movie, even though he had seen it 'dozens of times.'

"Really? I’ve been wearing it as a shirt. " you grab at the fabric, "Do you want me to take it off? "

"Yeah, sure." he responds blankly, attention still glued to the movie. Then, he seemingly realizes what he said, face immediately erupting into a furious blush. He's quick to separate for you, almost spilling the entire bowl on the ground. You mirror him, unsure if you should laugh at his panic or cringe. "No! Do not take your shirt off! I do not want that!" 

"Tadashi. Calm down." You laugh, even as disappointment settles in the back of your throat. Does... does he really not want to see you undressed? Is this why you guys having had sex yet? Did he just see you as a friend? For his comfort and not your own, you inch farther away, back against the opposite arm as him. "It's fine, I get it."

"No, I-" he takes a moment to settle himself, "You look phenomenal with my hoodie on, I just, I don't want you to take your shirt off unless you want to, because it’s totally something I want. I think about it-" he pauses mid sentence, ears burning so red that his freckles seem to disappear, " I mean, if- I'm not like that- if you're not ready- that's not why I invited you over. I'm not expecting anything." 

He gives a nervous chuckle, widening the distance between the two of you more. You let his words sit, only the sound of the movie in the air. 

"So." you begin slowly. "You think about me without a shirt on?"

“I mean, of course.” He is acutely aware of the edge of the couch, his body teetering at the brink, but he bares it. "Can I tell you something? You can't laugh at me. Or think I'm a pervert." 

"I can't promise that. Are you, like.... sniffing my underwear or something?" you joke, a grin sneaking across your face.

He snorts and shakes his head almost violently. 

"Okay, no! Now the real thing doesn't sound as pervy." he adjusts only slightly, his shoulders unbunching themselves. Most of the tension in the air has melted away. That's what was so great about Yamaguchi; even when things turned awkward, they quickly returned to normal. "Do you remember that time Yakki split that water all over you?"

You roll your eyes at the memory. "Of course."

"And you had that little white blouse on?" he swallows, "My productivity at work dropped about 50% that day. It was so bad that the boss scolded me." 

"Yeah, because you were too busy worrying about me catching a cold!" you say, "You even gave me your jacket!" 

"No, I gave you my jacket because your shirt was see-through.” he admits, “My productivity dropped because all I could think about was how I wanted to take you and that little see-through shirt into the storage closet."  

Oh God. This is it. This is the opportunity. 

You lean forward with a tilt of your head, the gapping neck of the shirt falling forward past your collarbone. His eyes are glued to the neckline, tracing over the hint of skin, silently begging for more. You tuck your knees up under you and begin to crawl, only half convinced that this is sexy.  The closer you get, the more he can see down your shirt. His breath hitches slightly at the sight, but he doesn't dare to look away.

"Oh? What were you thinking about doing to me in that storage closet?" Yamaguchi lets his legs fall apart and, hesitantly, you place a hand between his knees, fingertips grazing the grey cotton of his sweatpants. The band of his bright red underwear peeks out from under his shirt and, without thinking, you trace over it with a pad of your finger. At the touch, he leans forward, lips tickling the shell of your ear as he speaks. Your heart is thrumming in your eardrum, so hard you can barely hear what he's saying. 

"First, I would have ripped that wet little shirt off, button by button." he chuckles, reaching to tuck a tendril of hair behind your ear. Your pussy clenches at the low rumble of his voice, so hard you feel like your stomach is cramping. "Then, I-"

A scream cuts through the room. The both of you jump forward into each other, knocking your skull against his jaw. Almost in unison, you both reel back: you clutching your ear, him clutching his lip.  The bowl spills across your laps, scattering popcorn all over the couch and floor as you both frantically search for the source of the noise. The dramatic music of the movie drums through you as some damsel in distress is running across the screen, screaming for help.

One beat. Two beats. 

Then, you laugh. It's one from the belly, that makes your gut ache from effort. You're trying to reach for Yamaguchi, make sure he's okay, but your eyes are watering, and your whole body shaking.  He's giggling too, still covering his lip. 

"The movie scared me!" you explain through tears. He nods in agreement, gesturing to the mess across his lap, including a huge butter stain across his crotch. It's not a funny moment, not when both of you are aching, but an intangible something has you both snorting and sobbing through giggles. The moment is way too long, way past the point of any humor, but Yamaguchi's snickering feeds into yours. 

Finally,  Yamaguchi manages to collect himself, scrunching his lips into a straight line. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards and you dissolve into giggles once again.

"I want to fuck you so bad right now." he breathes. His directness surprises you. "But not on top of the popcorn." 

You pull a deep breath, trying to center yourself. "We could move?"

"My roommate is going to kill me when he comes home to this mess." he says, but he stands anyway. You follow and his hand finds the small of your back, pulling you into him softly. He presses a kiss against your lips, warm and gentle, and then pulls back with a grimace. 

"I think you bruised me.” he touches his lower lip gingerly, as if testing it. 

“I’m sorry, we don’t-” he silences you with another kiss and now you can feel the swollen corner of his mouth, gritted slightly with salt. He clutches on to your top as he steps backwards, dragging you along with him so the kiss doesn’t break. Each step is rocky and unsure (you barely miss colliding into the wall) but you stay embraced, your hands clutching into his dark locks, partially to keep your balance as blindly follow. His hands trace up under your shirt, thumbs digging into the soft of your hips, pulling you flush against him, forcing you deeper and deeper into him until-

“Oh, shit.” he breaks away suddenly, pushing you back slightly. “I- my room- I need you to stay here.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“My room’s a mess, I really didn’t expect that you would- that we-” he shakes his head. “Gimme 30 seconds- please. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

You don’t object as he scuttles away, clicking the door firmly closed behind him. You can hear the muffled sounds of drawers slamming and objects being tossed about as you wait. It feels like you have been standing there, starting at the generic art hanging in the hall, for ages. It’s much longer than 30 seconds, but not quite the eternity it feels like.

The door creaks open and your favorite freckled face peeks out.  “Hi.” 

“Hi.” you repeat. Somehow, every amount of tension had returned in the scant amount of time you had been apart. Both of you knew what you wanted to do, but, the knowledge seemed heavy. It was an explored territory, sleeping with someone new. No matter what your past relationships were, each new experience with a new person (especially a new person you CARE about) brought its own pitfalls and challenges. It seems so serious, so scary, until you tear your eyes away from the floor and actually look your boyfriend in the eyes.

"Did you just brush your teeth?" you reach out and brush a little bit of white foam from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. He leans into your palm with a smile.

"I didn't want to taste like popcorn." he says and you can't help but laugh as he leads you into the room. It’s his brand of organized chaos; there’s clothes peeking out from the closet, miscellaneous knick knacks on the nightstand (including a still foamy toothbrush) and half hung posters across the walls. . You break away to sit on the bed, tracing over the pattern of the bedspread. 

“I like this.” you comment, “Very nice.” 

He nods, frozen in the doorway. Slowly, he reaches up to the lightswitch and flicks the light off. The darkness feels heavy with anticipation and worry as he pads around to the other side of the bed. He feels it too, you decide, as you watch his adam’s apple bob in the low light, this insane mixture of pressure and excitement.

For Yamaguchi, it’s the thoughts that usually plague his mind at night that grate away his confidence. The dreams of your skin between his fingers, your taste on his lips, are so close to reality, but he can't bring himself to make the first move. Even in the low light, he can see the curve of your waist, slowly contracting with every exhale. His own breathing matches your pace and, for some odd reason, that realization makes his chest burn with longing.

"I'm not expecting anything. If you don't want to." he reiterates as he lies down. How pathetic, he thinks. He really wasn't expecting anything, but, god, was he thinking about it. He'd been thinking about it since the first time he had seen you from across the If he could just reach out, just grab your collar and pull you to him, he could finally-

"Tadashi." his skin jumps at the sound of your voice and the sound of you shuffling, laying across the mattress. It's enough to knock him out of his thoughts and back into reality. He swallows back the tightness in his throat as he inches closer to you, his knees brushing against yours. He feels the gravity of the mattress shift as you shuffle closer and closer, until you're within inches of him.  You're almost face to face now, close enough that he can feel the way your breathing picks up as his hand finds your shoulder. You hum at the contact; he's warm. Even through the thick cotton, his skin is unusually hot against you. 

"You're like a little space heater." you whisper. Yamaguchi blinks, thinking, before his lips peel into a smile.

"Is that a good thing?" He doesn't wait for an answer.  He squeezes gently and you let him pull you forward, nose pressed against nose, hip against hip. His own shoulders shake with a silent laugh and you can't help but join him. It's something about the novelty of the situation, the joy in doing something new, breaking an unspoken boundary, that makes you laugh. You both dissolve into giggles, shifting closer and closer until you're laughing in each other's arms, fully pressed against each other. Even through your sweatpants you can feel the suggestion of his cock pressed against you, heavy against his thigh.

" ’Dashi." you whisper into the thin space between you. 

"I- Yeah?" he lets out a shaking breath. You take his hand and guide it to your chest, his fingers immediately cupping the flesh, massaging the flesh with a surprisingly steady touch. The way he sucks in air, fast, surprised, and hungry, sends heat pooling to your core.

"There's no popcorn here." you joke, "If you wanna fuck me." 

It's enough to break through his anxiety and he's against you again, this time with no laughter to keep your lips apart. His mouth finds yours, hungrily catching your lower lip between his teeth, tugging it ever so slowly. The sharpness makes you gasp and he uses the opportunity to kiss you deeper, tongue against yours. He tastes like his brand of toothpaste- soft and sweet mint. It's unexpectedly hungry, unexpectedly rough. 

The kiss doesn't break as he rolls over on to you, pressing your back into the down of his bed. His heart is already racing, battering against his ribs, as he continues tugging and teasing your breast, but he can't find it in himself to slow down. His free hand pushes up the hem of your shirt (his hoodie) to expose your chest. The kiss ends as he pulls away, forcing the short in-between your teeth, holding it up to give him free reign of your body. His head dips to join his hand, breath hot against your nipple. The cloth muffles your moan, but not enough to hide it from your lover.

He pauses, mouth open and tongue lulled out of his mouth, gazing up at you through his eyelashes. "Is this okay?" he's not touching you, but you can feel the low vibrations of his whisper against your skin.

"Yes, please." you whine through the sweatshirt, wrapping your hands into his hair. "Please, Please."

His tongue traces over your nipple delicately before he pulls back,  just far enough to watch it pebble under his touch.  He returns to work, clamping down and sucking, leaving the dull pain of a blossoming bruise behind. Your hips rut up into nothing, looking for any sort of friction.

He continues like this, leaving scattered marks across your skin as he worships you. Yamaguchi seems so content, just learning the scape of your body, but the building tension in your core is wearing thin.

Trailing touches down his body, you slipped your hands under the band of his sweatpants, gripping him through his boxers. Yamaguchi breaks, resting his forehead against your collar bone with a swallowed groan, as your fingers trace around the crown of his cock. Unwilling, he bucks into your light touch, dragging his length through your grasp. You tighten your fingers as he continues fucking himself against your palm, his own hands drifting to grasp your hips, pushing down your shorts just a fingers-length. Finger pads traced against the newly exposed skin, dipping lower and lower until tracing over the lace of your underwear.

"Wow." he breathes, lifting his head up to press a kiss against your chin. "Lift your hips for me, beautiful." 

You comply, letting him peel off your shorts and underwear in one pull. The cool night air made you shiver, but his warm hands soon returned to explore the newly exposed skin. 

"Oh, you're so..." his hand dips in between your legs, dragging a digit through your folds. The sound of your slick against his fingers makes his cock pulse in your grasp. He leaves his thought unfinished as he starts circling your clit with a steady touch. The pressure sends you keening, hips rolling into his touch eagerly, but he remains steady, patient.

He's building you up embarrassingly fast, leaving you sweaty and panting under his touch. Just as your legs start shaking, your body right on the brink, he withdraws. His tongue darts out to wipe away your fluids from his hand and he groans at the taste, eyes fluttering. 

"I'm sorry, beautiful. You can't  cum until I'm inside you." he whispers, sitting up to peel off his shirt. Clusters of freckles dapple his shoulders and it's all you can watch as he scrambles away to the nightstand drawer.  He returns a moment later, eager tearing through the tin foil packet with his teeth.

"Tadashi! Be careful!" you scold as you throw the blankets aside.

"It's not ripped!" he says, grabbing the bunched up shorts from the crook of your knee and tugging it completely off, dragging you a couple inches down the mattress with them. He tosses them aside as he pulls off his own; even though you just had your hand around it, the sight of his cock makes you anxious. It's thick, much thicker than you anticipated, and around leaking, a bead of precum catching at little light in the room.

As he begins rolling the condom on, you peel off your top and Yamaguchi's mouth falls open, eyes darting around the entirety of your body.

"Holy. You-" he sighs happily. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen." He surges forward, pressing you down into the mattress once again. His mouth is against yours, swallowing your whines. His hands are at the small of you back again. but now it's about but pure. He's forcefully angling your hips back and forth against his cock, dragging your clit against his spongy head and spreading your wetness against the plastic film. 

"I can't believe I get to fuck you." he says in between kisses. Yamaguchi continues to fuck your folds, his calm pace finally losing it's rhythm. "I can't believe I get to play with this perfect pussy. Can't wait to see you cum around my cock." With a trembling hand, he reaches down and presses his tip against your entrance, hesitating before sinking just the head inside you. The pop of his cockhead entering your cunt makes both of you gasp in unison- and another wave of giggles over takes the both of you.  As he dips down onto his elbows, eyes screwed shut, he doesn't make a move for a long moment, the only sound in the room is his steady breathing.

"I'm sorry, I'm just-." he presses a kiss against your neck, another laugh bubbling up, "You just- ah, you're so pretty. I can't believe this is real." 

Your hand catches his jaw, pulling his face up into yours. Your thumb traces over his cheek, tracing over the subtle dimpling of his pock marks. The freckles scattered across his cheeks, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes as he smiles- he's the beautiful one here. At your touch, he pushes further into you, steadily feeding your tight whole inch by inch, watching the way your mouth gapes and twists at the pressure. Once he's fully seated in you, he pauses, watching your chest move with each breath. 

"Dashi," you whine, hooking your ankles together around his waist, "You're so thick." 

"I know, you're doing such a good job." he presses a kiss against your forehead as he begins rolling his hips against you. Each thrust is rough, your hips angled up for him to sink his full length into you. "Keep being good for me, baby." 

With an unexpected strength, he tugs you closer, lifting your hips off the bed. Each stroke is steady, pumping his entire length in and out of you at a tantalizingly slow pace. His name falls out of your mouth like a prayer, begging for more, but he doesn’t oblige. It stays sinfully slow, building you up in a controlled burn. Each kiss, highlighted by the mingling of your hot breaths, is further raking the coals. 

“Is my pretty baby gonna cum for me? Look how great you’re taking me.” he groans.  He’s praising you blindly now, neither of you sure of exactly what he’s saying, all of his attention focused on grinding into you.

Your back arches further, and you’re seeing stars as he fucks you just right. You can barely keep your vision focused on him, those grey eyes clouded with concentration Your orgasm knocks the breath out of your lungs and you come undone with a strangled laugh, fisting the sheets desperately. The way you clench down around him makes his hips finally stutter, a hiss escaping his gritted teeth. Your chest is filled with a flurry of emotions as you sling your arms around his shoulders, unable to wipe away the goofy grin in your face. 

A few more snaps of his hips has him melting into you as he cums. He tucks his head under your jaw with a hum, dropping you on to the mattress. His hands find their way back to your chest, giving you a final squeeze.

"Fuck." he whispers into the soft of your neck as he withdraws. He's quick to peel off the condom and tie to off, discarding it off the side of the bed. Yamaguchi rolls onto his back, holding his arms open expectantly. "You're so hot when you laugh, you know that?" 

Curling into his arms, finding some sort of gross comfort in his sweaty warmth, you can't help but suppress another giggle.

"Hey, be careful. Keep laughing and we'll have to do that again." he grips your jaw, tilting your face towards him to capture you in a kiss. "Don't test me; I'll fuck you so hard you'll need a standing desk on Monday."

"Oh yeah?" you tease, your hand tracing down his chest, connecting his freckles. "Prove it."

"Oh, I will, come here-"

The distant sound of a door slamming catches your attention. "Yamaguchi, what the fuck?" a familiar voice echoes through the apartment. 

Yamaguchi shoots up, frantically searching for his pants in the sheets. "Fuck, I forgot about the popcorn!"

[one-sad-human]

•Savior• Axl Rose

Pairing: Axl Rose x Reader

Requested: Yes! By an anon

Theme: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Language, stalking

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: —

You stretch your back and put you arms over your head, groaning at the satisfying crack. It's been a long day at the diner, you had picked up extra time to afford rent. Your shift had just ended, thankfully.

It's midnight, so the place had been pretty quiet and boring aside from the occasional drunk wanting a coffee to sober up before heading home.

"See you tomorrow," you say, smiling and waving at your coworker.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you home? My shift ends in an hour, you can just chill in the back," she asks, not wanting you to walk home alone. She had a car, and usually drove you home when you both left at the same time.

"No, thanks, I just want to get home as soon as possible. I really don't want to have to wait another hour," you say. The soft cozy bed in your apartment is calling your name, waiting another hour to get to it seems foolish. You walk out the front door, glancing around.

You didn't like walking home at night. Every shadow spooked you and you're a paranoid mess— but that's all, just paranoid. So when the hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you felt like someone was following you, you brushed it off.

It's late, there's just a chill in the air. And if there was someone behind you, it's probably just someone walking the same direction as you. You took a quick glance behind you anyway, catching a look at what appears to be a tall man in a dark coat with a hood.

You pick up your steps, round corners quickly to try to lose him. He persists, but stays pretty far away. When you spot a phone booth, you don't hesitate to step into it and close the door. You fish out a quarter and stick it into the slot with trembling hands.

You clutch the phone like a lifeline, pressing the numbers to Axl Rose, your best friend and fiercest protector. You know he won't hesitate to jump in his car and come and get you.

"Hello?" He asks, his normally deep voice sounded even deeper, maybe from sleep, but you didn't think too much of it.

"Axl! It's me, can you please pick me up? I'm outside of that 7-11 we always go to and there's this guy following me home and—"

"I'll be right there, stay in the phone booth, alright? Five minutes I'll be there," he says quickly. He picks up on how scared and desperate you are, and he knows you would've kept taking. You quickly hang up and watch as the man approaches.

He has a stagger to his step, but nonetheless, he quickly gains up on you. You do as Axl says and stay in the cramped phone booth.

"Hey, sweetheart, what're you doin' out so late? Huh?" He asks, his voice is slurred. "Not gonna answer?"

"Could you just leave me alone? I just called my boyfriend and he'll kick your ass when he gets here. So just leave me alone," your say, voice wavering unsteadily. He laughs, a hiccup interrupting.

"You don't sound too confident about that, honey. Why don't you come out before I make you." A sleek black car pulls up before he can continue, the fiery redhead jumping out and making his way to you.

"Step the fuck away before I kill you, you hear me?" Axl threatens, his voice dark and intimidating. You quickly run out of the phone booth, hiding behind Axl. He puts him arm out, holding you close to him. "I said 'do you hear me?'"

"I hear ya, I hear ya," the man says, putting his arms up in surrender. He smiles bitterly, like Axl is an inconvenience before slinking away to hide in the shadows of a nearby alleyway. Axl pulls you against him, your head resting against his chest.

"Are you ok? He didn't hurt you, right?" He asks, all malice previously lacing his words completely gone. You shake your head, too shook up to say words. "Come on."

Axl leads you to his car, shutting the door behind you before getting in the drivers seat. He watching your with inspecting eyes, making sure you're alright.

"I told you to call me when you work late, you know I don't mind driving you home." You sigh.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to be a bother."

"You're never a bother," he says sincerely and takes your hand in his. He squeezes it and rubs his thumb over your knuckles.

"Would you mind staying over tonight? I really don't want to be alone," you ask him. “He freaked me out.”

"I wasn't planning on leaving you alone."

The rest of the car ride is quiet, except from the quiet hum of the radio. Axl keeps your hand in his, acting as an anchor to keep you from spiraling into the thoughts of what could have been if Axl hadn't shown up.

Once he pulls into your driveway, he leads you inside your apartment. He walks to the closet where you keep your spare blankets, ready to spend the night on your couch like he always does when he stays over.

     "Can you stay in my bed tonight?" You ask, your face hot from embarrassment. He smiles.

     "Of course." You let out a sigh of relief and smile back. Truth be told, you always had a crush on your best friend. Honesty, you'd say it was farther from a crush— you're completely in love with him. Your heart skips a beat at the thought of sharing the bed with him.

     A couple minutes later and you find yourself cuddled up to him in your bed. Axl slept over countless times, once or twice ending up in your bed when you and him were too drunk to fix up the couch, but it was never as intimate as this.

     "Thank you for staying over, and saving me. I don't know what I would've done without you." You shudder, Axl must've felt it because he pulls you closer.

     "Don't think about it, and you don't have to thank me, either. I'd do anything for you, Y/N, really."

     "I really appreciate it," you say, biting your lip to conceal the huge grin from Axl being so open with you. He usually played the part of the cool— yet hotheaded— rockstar. He didn't often let himself be so soft and honest about his feelings.

     "I don't think you get what I'm trying to say," he says. You lace your brows together in confusion, lifting your head from his chest to look him in the eyes.

     "What do you mean?" He runs a hand over his face.

     "Fuck— I mean I love you! I love you, Y/N. Always have, ever since I met you and you almost decked me in the face for touching your ass," Axl says with a laugh thinking back to the first time you met at the same diner you worked at today. You smile at the memory.

     He had gotten handsy and flirty while you were taking his order and you were done with it. You had reeled back and almost got him, luckily he ducked last second. It's weird to think how two years later and you were laying in bed with him while he's pouring his heart out.

     "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" You ask, breathlessly.

     "I didn't want to lose you, I didn't know if you felt the same," he answers truthfully, vulnerability making his voice shake. "Do you feel the same?"

     You kiss him, your hand resting on his chest while his hand instinctively flys to your hair. You pull away a while later, your lips red and face flushed and hot to the touch.

     "Yeah, I love you, too." He doesn't hesitate to kiss you again, and again, and well into the night.

[sluttbuttsstuff]

Not to spam you but…

Yandere la squada and a darling that’s a little pant-y mess on the occasion that she masturbates and knows a member of the team is home, but upon thinking she’s alone (unaware of her stalker) is masturbating REALLY FUCKING LOUD 🥺 👉👈 sorry if it’s too filthy but this thought will not let me know peace

I do NOT know how to write short pieces; sorry, but that's just not the kind of writer i am. That being said, i had a lot of fun with this, so thanks for the request!

WARNINGS: afab femme reader, Not sfw, dub/con, but reader strongly implied to be okay with everything, voyeurism, sex toys, fingering, blow jobs, intercourse, etc.

Why is it so hard to get some alone time?!...okay, when you’re living with 9 other men, it shouldn’t really come as a surprise to you, but STILL! Well, at least you were able to release some tension, late at night when everyone was too asleep to barge into your room to ask you for something, but you had to stay quiet. God forbid anyone hear the noises you make, so you had to get yourself off quickly and efficiently, without getting to really enjoy yourself. So when this week’s meeting left you free for a day at the base ALONE (even Risotto himself had to be out for a mission, which was rare) you intended to take advantage of it to the fullest.

First: You sang all your favorite songs at the top of your lungs, without fear of anyone hearing you go out of key, or judging you for your taste in music. Then, You took an extra long shower AND bubble bath, effectively using up all the hot water and pampering your skin and hair-which you never had time to when you had to share the bathroom with all the other members. You ate a ton of junk food and ordered delivery all for yourself, and watched all the shows and movies you didn't have the time to before because Formaggio would watch sports games all day.

Finally, you figured now was as good a time as any to....”relax your body”. You were so excited, it had been so long since you’d taken the time to really explore your body while you rubbed one out. You got undresses, rubbing your smooth, moisturized legs together while you turned on one of your favorite pornos on your laptop. You mimicked the motions onscreen, rubbing your neck, your chest, stomach, and finally the lower lips of your pussy. You were already warm and tingling with anticipation, and it didn’t take long for you to get into it. You let yourself moan freely, not saying anything in particular as you clenched around your fingers, lubing yourself up for your toys that were waiting to be used again.

Eventually, the porn ended, but you were just getting started, rocking yourself on your favorite dildo, circling a vibe around your clit and pinching your nipples. It was intense but slow, pleasure raising and declining like gentle hills you rode out. Still, you held off your orgasm for as long as possible, you were having so much fun you didn’t want it to end. You were so invested in the pleasure you were feeling, the rest of the world went away, you didn't even notice the crash of your laptop off the bed.

You were close now, like it or not, so you pushed your body faster and harder than you had in ages, despite the cramps in your wrist and hips. You couldn’t stop your body now, wailing out, tears streaming down your face as you begged yourself for release. Almost there, almost-!!!!

Formaggio: Of course Formaggio was able to finish his hit early- he’s good at his job and doesn’t like carrying things out needlessly! Besides, his favorite team’s playing tonight, he has to hurry home before Prosciutto claims the TV again for an old movie marathon, ughhh. He calls out to you when he arrives home, since he knows you were off this week, but didn’t hear you greet him. You must now have heard him, either, or you wouldn’t be making noises like that. Formaggio cackles to himself-of course you’re getting off, he does the same when he gets the day off too. He likes to do something more exciting than usual though, like leave his door open, or do it in someone else’s room. Yours, for example.

Stifling his own laughter, he uses his stealth skills to sneak into your room. You’re so out of it, you don’t even notice when he opens the door, or your overturned laptop at the foot of your bed. It’s pretty hot, actually, you’re usually more tight-lipped than this, refusing his advances and keeping to yourself when not at work. He likes this side of you a lot more; hair messy, gleaming with sweat, and moaning like a porn star. Yeah baby, let it all out! Formaggio knows he probably shouldn’t, that you’ll kill him afterwards, but Formaggio isn’t exactly a good guy per se so he forces himself on you and grabs the dildo from your hands. You gasp and make an odd, half-choking noise, shocked at Formaggio’s presence and trying to stop moaning in front of him while he fucks you on your toy at double speed.

“Yo, y/n, had a good day today without the guys around? IT’s about to be a lot better, now that I'm here~ why don’t you let me have a turn making you feel good? I’m sure you’re tired from doing this all yourself.” Formaggio teases you, as you struggle to find the words and hide the noises. Finally, you roll your eyes and give up; if Formaggio really wants to help you out so badly, then you’re gonna put him to work. The two of you end up fucking for the rest of the aftenoon and evening, until Proscuitto bangs on your door to keep it down, and even then you have another round or two while giggling.

The two of you are exhausted, but sated, afterwards, and you convince Formaggio to make a run to the fridge to pull out your leftovers, on the condition you share them with him. You spend the rest of the night eating in bed, watching Formaggio’s beloved game on your laptop, and falling asleep. It's an almost perfect end to your day, except for the fact that Formaggio snores louder than a chainsaw.

Illusio: unfortunately, this is not the first time Illusio’s heard (or seen) you masturbate, try as you might to hide it. With a stand like his, you know he not only has the means, but desire to snoop on others. Hell, half the time he doesn’t even mean to spy on others, he just forgets about other’s privacy when he’s in his mirror world. This is, however, the first time you’ve been so vocal, presumably because everyone’s supposed to be out right now. Poor girl, it must be hard to take care of your needs when you’ve got to stare at him all day. He’d be pretty flustered too, with his long chocolate locks and well-toned muscles. Illusio pities you, so he decides he’ll give you the help you clearly need. Jumping from the mirror in the hallway to the one in your bedroom (See? You don’t even cover it up, of course you want him to ravish you!) he watches and listens for a minute at the raunchy display before him. Despite you clearly doing this for quite awhile, judging from the sheen of sweat and heavy breathing, your movements were steady and rhythmic, almost like you’d been edging yourself for a long time. How cute. You must have wanted him to finish the job for you. You’re being very loud however, which Illusio likes, but you’re not saying what he wants to hear. So, he slinks over to you like a ghost, and puts his hand over your mouth to stop you from screaming.

“As much as I love coming home to hear you pleasuring yourself, I think we can do a little better than this. And also-” He kisses the side of your shocked face, “If you’re going to scream something, scream my name.” He picks up where you left off, edging you again and again until you’re so desperate that you beg him to fuck you, and say all the pretty words he wants you to. He fucks you so good you squirt when you come, and makes you come again after he finishes inside of you. It takes you a minute or two to recover, but when you do, and Illusio is bragging about what he did to you, you chase him out of your room with a pillow for being an annoying cocky bastard.

Prosciutto:

Hmmm, well, this is a bit awkward. He knows what the noises mean the minute he first hears them, but isn’t sure how to approach this without embarrassing both of them. If it had been one of the other men, he’d have just slammed their door until they shut up so he didn’t have to listen to their tug session, but Prosciutto prided himself on being a gentleman, and didn’t want to embarrass a lady if he didn’t have to.

He waited about 5 or so minutes, hoping you would wrap up, but when you only got louder and louder he decided enough was enough. After all, god forbid one of the other men hear you-like Illusio or Formaggio. So, steeling himself, he coughed loudly and knocked on your door. You must not have heard him, as your moaning didn’t stop, you were clearly enjoying yourself too much to notice or care about the other men in the base.

Prosciutto huffed, almost offended. Is this what he gets for trying to be polite? Jerking off loudly like a common whore where anyone could walk into you? He tried the doorknob, and was almost disappointed you were careless enough to leave it unlocked. Really, this was all your fault, so when your noises of pleasure turned to shock and embarrassment, he merely chided you for your carelessness, forcing his tongue into your mouth to shut you up while he took over. He took control and instructed you how to properly touch yourself, as well as jerk him off in appreciation for the self-love lesson. He decides to leave it there for the night, as motivation for a reward the next time you’re home alone. So you better work hard on your next missions if you want him to properly fuck you, got it?

Pesci:

Pesci was grateful Prosciutto was willing to finish up the job for him, since it meant he got to go home early. Heck, maybe he could even get a chance to watch one of his documentaries before Formaggio came home and the game started. However, he was growing increasingly concerned about the noises coming from your room. He didn’t want to pry or anything, but you sounded...almost in pain. Sometimes you worked out or did yoga though, and Pesci thought that’s what you were working on, so he decided to leave you be.

However, upon hearing a loud crash, followed by a particularly pained groan, he thought it was best to check in on you. He knocked on your door frantically, but you were unable to answer it. Oh no, maybe you’d hurt yourself so badly you couldn’t even move! Determined to help you, he opened the door, only to see you writhing on the bed, nude and in the midst of an intense self-love session.

Pesci’s mouth opened, and closed, but unlike you, he couldn’t make a sound at the sight before him. It’s true, he harbored a small crush on you, but he had hope he would see you like this under better circumstances. He wasn’t sure what to do, he knew the right thing was to close the door and pretend like this never happened, but you seemed desperately in need of help, not to mention Pesci’s pants were tented with his own sudden but no less intense arousal.

Thinking back to advice Prosciutto had given him about manning up and taking what he wanted from life, he creeps up to your still unaware body, crouching onto your bed with a squeak of the bed springs. This is enough to break you from your trance, and you jolt up, looking at Pesci in shock and embarrassment. Pesci shushes you before you can say a word, pushing a trembling, clammy finger to your lips.

“Please...Let me help you y/n,” He begs you, looking you in the eyes with more courage and bravery than you’d seen from the man since you first met him. Still wet and horny, and body growing tired, you lick his finger, earning an adorable squeak from Pesci; this is going much better than he thought it would. You pull him on top of you, and show him what to do.

What Pesci lacks in experience he makes up for in quick-learning and a massive cock with a short refractory period. You move his hands for him across your body, bringing yourself to climax finally, and return the favor with a blowjob. Pesci doesn’t last long, but he’s hard again very quickly, which you decide to use to your advantage. You ride him again and again, Pesci doing everything you tell him to, and making sure you come as many times as he does. He comes everywhere, inside you and out and on your chest, and makes quite the mess of you.

IT doesn’t stop him from pulling you into a passionate kiss and spooning when you’re both sated, mumbling his thanks and sweet compliments about you. You end up sleeping together that night, and in the morning the men tease him half to death about it, but you can tell Prosciutto's proud of him.

Melone:

Oh, he’s been WAITING for this day since you first joined the team, and now that it’s finally happening he can hardly believe it’s real. First he Manages to reactivate the babyface from today’s mission to grab his camera and record everything. Then, he grabs his chest of toys from his room to help you out. He has a hard time not just jumping in and screwing you into your mattress, but like everything in Melone’s life, he has a plan for this, and he intends to follow through with it. After getting a minute or two of just your moans recorded (just in case his “mission” is unsuccessful, at least he’ll have fap material for later, he decides to make himself known.

“You know, y/n, your arm’s are going to get worn out like that before you’re able to climax if you keep this up.” Melone chided you, sitting on your vanity stool, head in his hands like he wasn’t just watching you touch yourself. You scream, out of shock and anger this time, trying to cover yourself and yell at him to get out. Melone’s incredibly stubborn however, and the tongue of a snake, and is able to persuade you into letting him stay, be it from charm, blackmail, or perhaps tapping into your own dark desires.

He starts by merely watching you, taking pictures with his phone and directing babyface on angles to take video. He instructs you on how to touch yourself, and gives you free range on his collection of toys. It all feels good, and you are able to come, but you’re still unsatisfied, to your disappointment. As if knowing this would be the result all along, Melone plays dumb and makes YOU beg him to touch and fuck you.

Once you finally give in, though, he’s much nicer to you, and to no one’s surprise is an excellent lover. He licks your pussy until you come again, and then finger fucks you once more for good measure, before pulling out his copy of the Kama Sutra. He lets you pick out your favorite positions, as well as a few he thinks will give you the most pleasure, and you tire yourself out.

Ghiaccio:

Ghiacchio does NOT want to deal with your loud noises right now, and he ESPECIALLY doesn’t want to deal with the “problem” it’s caused him personally. He breaks your door down, fully intending to chew you out for being so….”distracting” but ironically enough, Ghiacchio freezes when he sees you. He doesn’t have the most experience with dating, especially not with women (I imagine what limited experience he has was with other passione members *cough* Melone *cough*) so seeing you fully bare in front of him is a lot.

The noises you made haven’t helped either, halfway pained and desperate, it makes Ghiaccio oddly jealous; he wants to be the one that makes you make those noises. So before you can chase him out, or cover yourself, he tackles you on the bed, sloppily kissing and touching you. He’s rough, as you could have probably guessed, but also weirdly shy and gentle? For example, he fingers you so roughly and quickly you cum squirting within minutes, but he’s looking you in the eyes the entire time and gaging your expressions/reactions. He’s got a giant blush on his face, almost like he’s ashamed of doing this, but then bites your shoulder while he spears himself inside of you with a snarl.

Good news: you are no longer the loudest one in the house, Ghiacchio progressively growling then shouting the closer he is to climax. He jackhammers you with incredible speed, and bends your body in half to suit his own purposes. It takes him a couple rounds until he’s fully sated, but then he gets really soft afterwards. He likes to spoon you from behind so you don’t see his face, but he holds you gently, rubbing your shoulders where he nipped you, and soothing your sore muscles.

Risotto:

Let’s be honest: this isn’t his first time hearing you masterbate, he’s heard everyone in the base do it at least once. Hell, he’s even walked in on Melone a dozen times, once with Ghiacchio, so that’s not the issue. What is the issue, however, is that you’re being so loud and obvious he can’t ignore it. Even putting aside his personal feelings for you (which he isn’t necessarily willing to do) it would be bad if you were keeping yourself pent up like this around the others. You could be distracted on missions and hurt yourself or mess up your hit. Or worse- you could go to the others for sexual relief.

Clearly, you needed help, and it was your capo’s responsibility to help you take care of it, and only him. He turns invisible and sneaks into your room, but he needn’t have tried so hard to be stealthy. You were clearly in your own little world, fucking yourself on your fingers, crying out over the wet squelching of your aching pussy. He touches you lightly, so lightly you barely notice, while he’s still invisible. Sure, Risotto’s more than happy to do this, and he doesn’t care if you or the others know about his feelings, but he’s still a little shy, and unsure how you’ll react.

He’s worried for nothing, however, when you unconsciously rock into his touch, palming your breasts and licking the sweat off your brow. You’re confused about the phantom touches lingering on your body and invisible force rubbing your clit, but too aroused to do anything about it. You merely relax your tired body, letting yourself be finger-fucked into climax, crying out in pleasure-pain from the large, rough hands raking orgasm after orgasm out of your body.

After Risotto’s able to finger you enough to (he hopes) sufficiently stretch you out, he repositions your limp body, fluffing pillows under your head and placing you to face his still invisible body. He rubs the head of his cock against your clit and entrance, collecting as much lubrication onto his cock as he can. At the last minute, Risotto turns himself invisible, and watches the look of surprise and embarrassment turn into red hot need as he bottoms out into your aching, tender pussy.

He doesn’t go easy on you, each thrust hitting the deepest parts of you, forcing squeals out of you every time. You wrap your arms around him, trying to take some sort of control of the situation, but Risotto doesn’t give you an inch as he fucks the daylights out of you. Your moans spur him on, having gone from non-specific mewling to begging for Risotto to go deeper, harder, “more, more, more!” Risotto likes this side of you best, completely under his control and telling him exactly what he’s doing to you.

Far too soon, you orgasm again, already sensitive from your previous orgasms. Risotto isn’t done though, and doesn’t finish for several hours. Even when the others go home, and are tempted to say something, they hear who’s name you’re calling, and think twice before interrupting their capo’s “alone time.” Finally, after finishing, You pass out almost immediately, too exhausted to even clean yourself off. So, Risotto takes care of you, cleaning up your mess, putting some comfy pjs on you, and fetching some water and painkillers (just in case).

When he walks out of your room, the Squad is silent, no one daring to say anything (Ghiacchio and Formaggio are physically restraining Melone from talking). Risotto sees no need to say anything to them either, merely gives them all an unreadable look, before smiling to himself and returning to your room. Tomorrow, he’s going to need to rearrange the schedule; you’ll need some time off to recover.

[artemisia--hq]

This prompt is from @kittensocute ‘kageyama and hinata are stuck on a ferris wheel ride’

(*ﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ

—————————————

When one thinks of amusement parks, games and rides, and generally a fun, happy time instantly comes into mind. This, however is decidedly not fun. This is a nightmare, a weaving of pure fear and terror, and Tobio swears if he ever manages to get out of here alive, he is so going to—

“Aaahh! Ahh! We’re gonna die! We’re gonna die!”

“Stop yelling, dumbass!” Tobio yells. He rubs his face with both of his palms when Hinata still wouldn’t stop screaming like a banshee. “Death is gonna be the least of your concern because I’m gonna kill you first if you don’t! Stop! Yelling!”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” Hinata cries, “and you’re yelling, too!” He serves Tobio a stink eye, or as stinky as he can possibly muster with his ashen face and trembling lips. Tobio just returns the glare a hundred-fold, and that seems to do the job of shutting the idiot up as he looks away with an obnoxious huff.

But the sudden silence only gives way for Tobio to marinate in regret, recounting every action that had led to the disaster they’re currently in.

It was supposed to be a fun day in the amusement park, and it did start out that way. The first and last time Tobio had been to one was years ago, with Kazuyo-san and Miwa for his tenth birthday. It is one of his most treasured memories that is completely unrelated to volleyball, the only time he had fun without it.

But spending it with his friends (and yes, that includes that bastard Tsukishima, however mortifying that concept is), had been admittedly fun, too. They were all together during the first hour, playing games and getting into every ride they could. But he and Hinata had been pre-occupied with one-upping each other with a shooting game and before they knew it, their friends were out of sight.

It was Hinata’s idea to ride the ferris wheel to look for them. Now they’re stuck in a cramped, glass-covered carriage for fifteen minutes.

“This is why you don’t get to have any dumbass ideas, you dumbass,” Tobio grumbles out loud.

Hinata bristles. “Wh-what?!”

“This is all your fault in the first place.”

The other boy lets out a disbelieving gasp. “You’re the one who said, ‘oh yeah. Good idea,’” he says in mock imitation of Tobio, flattening his hair as he does so.

He’s not wrong, but Tobio can’t give Hinata the satisfaction of being right, either, so he clicks his tongue and looks away.

Silence once again engulfs them.

Tobio gazes through the glass of the carriage to take his mind off of certain things that’s been circling his consciousness like incessant, annoying flies, things that shouldn’t be given permission to reside in his thoughts.

Getting stuck a hundred feet above the ground is bad enough as it is—getting stuck with the worst possible person just makes it a hundred times worse.

Tobio risks a sideway glance out on the corner of his eyes. Hinata has his arms around himself, as if he’s purposely trying to take up as little space as possible. Which is a weird concept to wrap around—as small as Hinata is, his larger than life presence could more than fill up a room, with that beaming smile and loud, cheery voice.

But Hinata is none of that presently. He looks quite pale, wide eyes darting around for every creak and squeak of the ferris wheel carriage, small hands clenching and unclenching the sleeves of his sweater. The most frustrating thing of all: he wouldn’t stop chewing his lower lip, now looking red and swollen and just so ki—

Tobio has to give himself a few mental punches in the head to wrench his attention away from it and to clear his thoughts.

See, this is why he absolutely shouldn’t be alone with this orange-haired gremlin. He gives Tobio horrendous ideas.

“K-Kageyama?”

Tobio’s body temperature drops to subzero. Fuck, was he caught staring? Was he too obvious? He should run—wait, no, fuck, he’s trap, he’s done for—

“Wh-what?” He snaps, anger immediately acting as a reflex.

Hinata flinches, then he sighs, looking down on his feet. “Never mind.”

Something twinges in Tobio’s chest. God, why is he so…taken with this stupid idiot. “What is it?” he asks, cutting down his tone, just a little.

The other boy still has his eyes cast down, squirming. “Uhm…”

“Out with it, dumbass.”

Those round brown eyes squeezes tight as Hinata blurts out, “Canyouholdmyhands?”

Tobio sputters, “Wh-what?”

“Can you hold my hands, please!” Hinata yells, extending both of his hands like an offering.

Okay, either he has completely lost his mind, or Hinata has.

He goes for the more convenient option.

“Are you crazy? No!” He whips his hands behind him, for good measure. “Why would I?”

“Because I’m scared and my hands are cold!” Hinata grouches, and for a second, he has every intent to fight and demand for it, like he always does, but then he deflates and slumps on his side of the carriage. “I-It’s fine. That was weird, anyway. Sorry.” He then proceeds to hug himself again, shrinking within his sweater.

Hinata has never looked so tiny and vulnerable.

Tobio’s mouth starts to open when the carriage suddenly sways and groans on his hinges. Hinata screams and Tobio is already lunging forward even before his mind could even process things, and his hands grabs onto cold, clammy ones, fingers intertwining tightly.

“We’re gonna die! We’re gonna die, Kageyama!”

“Sh-shut up! That was just the wind!”

“I-I don’t want to die, Kageyama!” Hinata wails, tears pricking on the corners of his blown, shaky eyes. “I-I still have to be good in volleyball! I still have to beat you!”

Tobio has never seen Hinata this distressed before, or even this legitimately terrified. He’s always been a scaredy-cat, but never like this. Tobio shuffles closer, gripping their joined hands. “No one’s going to die, so stop screaming.” He gives another reassuring squeeze, and it might be instinct or reflex, but Hinata squeezes back. “I won’t let that happen.”

Hinata sniffs. He blinks his glossy, golden eyes at Tobio “R-really?”

Tobio nods. “Yeah.” He hears some commotion from below and he presses his face on the glass. “Look, they’re doing something about it now.” He turns to face Hinata again. He could go in for a smile, but he figures that would only scare Hinata more than comfort him. “We’ll be out of here in no time, so just…think about something else.”

Hinata shakes his head frantically. “I-I can’t. There’s nothing in here that can distract me!” Then his gaze lands on their entwined hands. “Except, maybe…this.”

“Yeah, well…if that helps,” Tobio murmurs as he stares at their hands, too, before stalwartly looking away. If Hinata finds comfort in that, Tobio, on the contrary, needs a distraction of his own away from it. He settles at looking over the glistening lake dotted with tiny boats shaped like swans and turtles at the distance, but all of his nerve endings seem to concentrate on the point of contact between the, feeling each ridge and bumps of those rough, calloused hands wrapping around his own. Yet, they’re also unbelievably soft, if that makes any sense. Hinata just seems to defy all rules of the universe, from his jumps to the feel of his hands.

They are a bit sweaty, though, which is kind of gross. But Hinata being gross is not an entirely alien concept to Tobio, so whatever.

“Your hands are really warm,” Hinata says suddenly in genuine awe, as if he doesn’t mean to say them out loud.

Tobio’s hands are not the only ones getting warm—he can feel the back of his neck and his ears prickle with heat. “And really big. And your fingers are super long.” Hinata adds.

Tobio is half a mind to withdraw his hand and pocket them into safety, if only to keep them away from scrutinizing large eyes and to save himself from spontaneously combusting. But it does seem to calm Hinata, so it’s a risk he just has to endure.

He faces the other boy—the whole distract himself thing isn’t really working, anyway. “Obviously, dumbass,” he jibes, “I’m bigger than you everywhere.”

Hinata just nods, then he’s silent for a moment, before whispering, “Is this weird for you?”

“What, that I’m bigger?”

“No, stupid,” Hinata says with a roll of his eyes. “I meant, this.” He gestures at their hand, lifting them and letting it drop in the space between their knees.

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Tobio says, although he’s not really sure if he’s saying that to Hinata or himself. “You’re the one who asked for it.”

Hinata shrugs. “That’s different. I didn’t think you’d be up for it.” When Tobio doesn’t answer, Hinata sighs. “I-I mean, you normally do this kind of thing with…you know…” he trails, his pale cheeks quickly rising in color, eyes looking anywhere but at Tobio’s face.

“No, I don’t know,” Tobio says.

Amber eyes finally locking with blue ones, Hinata says in the softest voice, “You do this kind of thing with the person you like.”

“I do like you.”

It must be the work of altitude and oxygen and all the science-y stuff Tobio never paid any attention to in class because it’s the only logical explanation why his mouth decides to run off without his brain. He resists the urge to face palm himself hard enough to propel himself into the next dimension.

Hinata, understandably, stares at Tobio like he’s grown an extra head plus a tail. “You—like—what?!” he screeches, face and neck dousing in crimson red, and Tobio figures, he’s faring no better. “Y-you like me?!”

“I-I meant as a-a friend!” Tobio stammers, shouts, whatever. “As a friend and—and teammate! Dumbass!”

“I-I know that! I-It just surprised me!” Hinata shouts back, even as his face burns even deeper, redder than the sun settling behind the mountains.

Then he snickers, quickly turning into a full-on laugh.

“W-what? What’s funny?” Trying to sound demanding is hard when Tobio’s heart is lodged in his throat and with his entire body on fire.

Hinata snorts out a giggle, then he’s smiling at Tobio, radiant and flushed and—

Beautiful.

Here, trapped in a cramped, musty enclosed glass a hundred feet up in the air, Hinata—his rival, his partner, and if it isn’t obvious enough, the guy he’s been crushing on for months, looks achingly beautiful.

“Well, that makes me happy, because I like you, too!” Hinata exclaims.

Tobio has never really understood the expression ‘on cloud nine high,’ but he’s pretty sure this bursting feeling within his chest must be pretty damn close.

Then the beaming smile turns into a teasing smirk. “Even though you’re sometimes mean and violent and calls me dumbass more than my own name.”

And Tobio can’t help it, he smirks right back. “Dumbass.”

Their nonsensical argument of who likes who continues until the ferris wheel starts to turn and move again, continuing even after their feet touch the ground, as they zigzag their way among the crowd in search of their friends.

With Hinata’s hand still clutched over his.

—————————————

Thank you for indulging my request (begging) for a prompt! I have to apologize, though, this is not as good as I’d like to be, but it does help me ease out of my writing slump. I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless! ^o^

You can also read it on ao3 (with minor edits)

[teddy06writes]

To Talk To A Crush

Requested by this anon: “Dream x fem reader but make it school AU Pog? And Idk why but at least somewhere in there, can I please get sapnap with his backpack on his chest instead of his back just plowing into someone and knocking them over. Thanks!” 

{Oh my god my brain went haywire, I love this idea- the visual of of Sapnap fucking sprinting down a hallway and just jumping into a crowd of people- holy shit my guy you are on to something}

Dream x fem!reader

trigger warnings: some swearing, slight spoilers for the Great Gatsby?? other than that nothing

Premise: high school AU, a retelling of various events from meeting your friend group freshman year to now, the last time you saw your best friend before graduation

{Also the project scene was an excuse for me to relive that one time I taught myself the Charleston without realizing it}

“blep” speaking

‘blep’ singing/music

Italics = Dream’s memories/flashbacks/whatever you call that

bold = your memories/flashbacks/whatever you call that

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” 

Dream watched in horror as Sapnap went running down the hallway packed with people, his backpack still strapped across his chest and not his back, running straight toward a specific target.

George slapped his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh as Sapnap slammed into you, knocking the books from yours arms and sending you clattering to the ground. 

Wilbur laughed openly as Eret and Bad shoved him forward, “Go help her you idiot!” 

Oh, this that could not have been worse. 

He’d mentioned wanting to talk to his crush once and then along came Sapnap, ready to do just about anything to force his best friend into talking to you. 

Taking a deep breath he made his way forward, shoving Sapnap out of the way, “Are you okay? I’m sorry, my friends an idiot.”

You smiled, letting out a giggle, and his heart melted a bit as you took his hand.

~~

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” 

You barley had time to look up to see someone running at you from the juncture of hallways, a backpack on his chest as he slammed into you. 

Your things spilled everywhere, and you hit the ground, Niki’s gasp sounding loudly from somewhere behind you. 

Great, this was just great. 

All you wanted was to not be bothered in the hallways, to just blend in and not be asked if your brother really was really the greatest football player the school had seen, and yeah that wasn’t how you were being bothered now, but still this was not what you meant.

You looked up to see a group of people practically pushing a cute blonde boy down the hallway, “Are you okay? I’m sorry, my friend is an idiot.” 

You glanced over at the kid who had run into you, who was beaming proudly, allowing yourself to giggle as you took his hand. 

~~

You chuckled, taking a sip of your water, “Man that day was weird.” 

The causal reminiscing hadn’t been planned, nor were either of you providing full details, but Dream made good company, even on what seemed like it could be one of the last times you ever saw your bestfriend. 

“Yeah, I think Sapnap did a good job though,” Dream glanced over at you, “If there's any random person he could knock down and then drag into our friend group I’m glad it was you- you and Niki.” 

You looked at him for a minute, “Well I think Niki got dragged in first. I was just brought along to that one party.” 

Dream groaned, “Oh god that party was so cringe. Sapnap and George kept trying to shove me and my crush into talking. And the worst part is they were actually subtle about it!” 

“I didn’t realize that was possible.” You murmured, trying not to continue on looking at him. 

~~ “If you don’t go over there and talk to her I will literally lock you two in a closet.”

The party had been strange, cramped and awkward. 

The first high school party Dream had been too; it was some party that one of Wilbur’s older friends was hosting, and they were the only group of Freshmen there. 

That what he had thought at least, until Niki arrived, with you in tow. 

George had imideaitly tried to get Dream to talk to you, but he was still hesitant. 

It wasn’t until that threat that he finally made a move, quietly moving across the crowded room, to where you were standing with Eret, Niki and Wilbur, “Hey guys.” 

He barley noticed the way Niki shot you a glance, too drown out by Eret laughing, “Did George and Sapnap kick you out of there little group over there?” 

“Something like that.” He’d chuckled nervously, heart swelling when you smiled at him reassuringly. 

~~ “It looks like he wants to talk to you- he might like you! (y/n) if you don’t go talk to him I’ll get Eret to lock you two in a closet.” 

This party wasn’t somewhere you had originally wanted to be, but Niki had insisted that you go with her. 

It was your first high school party, one that Niki had only been invited too because Wilbur had been invited by one of his older friends, Phil. 

You were wary about talking to anyone, but Eret and Niki, the only people you really knew, but then Dream had wandered over. 

You elbowed Niki at her comment, glancing over at Dream, George and Sapnap just as Dream had turned to look at you. 

The next thing you knew he was sidling up to your group, “Hey guys.” 

Niki looked at you, eyebrows raised a little and a small grin on her face.

Eret had laughed, though more about your misfortuane than the comment he made, “Did George And Sapnap kick you out of there little group over there?” 

“Something like that.” He chuckled, and you couldn’t help but smile, already feeling a bit better about the party.

~~

“Wait- did they end up getting you to talk to her?” You asked, looking over at him. 

Dream groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face, “Uh- yeah. They- they did.”

“Who was it?” You asked, starting to laugh when he shook his head, “Come on dude your my bestfriend! You legally have to tell me!” 

“No!” He protested. 

“Why not?” 

He glared at you, “I am not telling you about some girl that I had a crush on freshman year!” 

You huffed, crossing your arms and faking a pout, “Well did you ask her to a dance or something?” 

“Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, sort of? I didn’t ask her, but we hung out some. It was that dance right before we got closer.” 

~~

‘oh oh! we’re halfway there! Oh living on a prayerr!’ 

Music blared through the gym, and Dream barley stifled a laugh as Sapnap kept trying to get George to dance with him, even as he screamed along to the lyrics. 

The entire friend group was clumped around the center of the gym, halfway mixed with the other people at the dance, though you were all certainly the most obnoxious people there. 

He looked over at you, dancing next to Niki near the edge of the group, looking amazing in the soft green dress you’d picked for the night. 

You looked over catching his eye and smiling. 

He grinned, and paused dancing long enough to point at his tie and then your dress, mouthing “We match”

You smiled, starting to look behind as the song change and both Sapnap and Quackity screamed, “It’s the cha cha fucking slide!!!”

~~

‘oh oh! we’re halfway there! oh living on a prayerr!’ 

The music throbbed through crowds of kids that filled the gym, seeming to make your head spin as Sapnap screamed to the lyrics, harrassing George while he was at it.

The kids you were now beginning to feel comfortable with enough to call them friends were all clumped in the center of the gym, dancing and singing along to the music loudly. 

You laughed, dancing along next to Niki, reveling in the way that your dress swished around your knees.

Niki bumped you, motioning to the side, and you turned, still smiling, to see Dream looking at you. 

He smiled back pointing to his green tie, and mouthing “we match”

Your smile grew, but your attention didn’t stay on him for long as the song changed and behind him someone, who you suspected with Quackity, screamed, “It’s the cha cha fucking slide!” 

~~

“oh- that was right before the group project right?” You asked, looking over at him. 

Dream chuckled, thankful you had dropped the crush thing, “Yeah, the group project from hell.” 

“It wasn’t hell! We killed that thing.” 

“You made me learn a dance to do when we presented it.” He said, looking at you critically. 

“And?” You grinned, “That was the literal only reason we got an A.” 

“And Karl recorded it and sent it to the group chat!” 

~~

“And the last set of partners will be Clay and (y/n)!” The teacher announced, “Everyone find your partners and get situated, I’ll be around with your topics shortly.” 

Dream sighed, grabbing his binder and pencil case before starting across the room toward you, sure he was glad to be spending extra time with you, but also the thought of having to be near you for so long scared him. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey yourself,” You smiled as he sat at the desk next to yours, “I’m glad I’m working with you and not someone I don’t know at all.” 

He nodded, “Me too.” 

Your teacher approached your desks, “And you’re decade is the 1920s, have fun!” 

Dream sighed, “I still don’t understand the point of a decade project.” 

“Well we’ve been reading books that are set in like, every decade from the 1860s to the 1970s, so it sort of makes sense,” You shrugged, opening your laptop, “Besides, the roaring 20s was epic.” 

“Gatsby dying wasn’t epic.” He grumbled. 

You chuckled, “Well I have an idea for extra stuff besides a bunch of slides of major events that we could do, and none of them involving being shot. You wanna come to mine on Saturday to work on it?”

He shrugged, and that's how a few days later he found himself in your basement after finishing most of the slides as you tried to convince him to learn some dance. 

“I’m not doing that!” 

“Yes you are! Our project is bland! This is how we get the grade!” 

He stared at you for a moment, “You seriously think we’re gonna fail if we don’t?” 

“Miss Mcall looked over the slides the other day. She didn’t seem impressed,” You nodded. 

Dream sighed, slowly getting up off the couch, setting his laptop aside, “Fine.” 

You grinned, “Yes!” 

~~

“And the last set of partners will be Clay and (y/n), find your partners and get situated, I’ll be around with your topics shortly.” Miss Mcall announced. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as Dream came over, sitting down, “Hey.” 

“Hey yourself. I’m glad I’m working with you and not someone I don’t know at all.” You smiled. 

He nodded, “Me too.” 

“And your decade is the 1920s!” You took the paper the teacher offered you, “Have fun!” 

“I still don’t understand the decade project.” 

You pulled out your laptop, looking to Dream, “Well we’ve been reading books that are set in like, every decade from the 1860s to the 1970s. Besides, the roaring 20s were epic.” 

His face seemed to squish, and you tried not to think of how cute he looked as he grumbled, “Well Gatsby dying wasn’t epic.” 

“Well I have an idea for some extra stuff besides a bunch of slides about major events, and none of them involve getting shot,” You chuckled, “You wanna come to mine on Saturday to work on it?” 

Dream shrugged, and that was how you found yourself in your basement a few days later, beginning him to learn the Charleston.

“I’m not doing that!” He insisted. 

“Yes you are!” You yelled, “Our project if bland! This is how we get the grade!” 

“You really think we’re gonna fail?” His stare bore into you for a moment. 

You sighed, “Miss Mcall looked over the slides the other day. She didn’t seem impressed.” 

Slowly Dream pushed the laptop to the side, standing up, “Fine.” 

You beamed, jumping up and down, “Yes!” 

~~

Dream still flushed at the thought of you trying to show him how to do the dance. 

“We did get an A.” He conceded. 

You spent the rest of the night reminiscing, until near 11 when the sudden weight of the fact that Dream would be leaving only a few days after graduation. 

“Dude- I just realized- your like leaving.” 

“Yeah, I know.” He chuckled. 

“But collage doesn’t start till the fall. And I know your not taking summer classes.” 

He smiled, “I’m just gonna drive, see where I end up. Have a summer of freedom before for more years of school and a shit ton of student debt.” 

“Man.” You mumbled, trying to comprehend what it would be like without him, “Why didn’t I think of that?” 

Dream sighed, the thought of leaving you for who knows how long eating away at him, “I dunno man.” 

~~ The next day was graduation, and you found yourself taking your place in the student section next to Niki, both of you laughing at how silly you looked in your caps and gowns before the ceremony began. 

Your graduating class wasn’t huge, maybe a hundred people or so, so it didn’t take you long to have your name called, and you headed up to the stage to collect your diploma. 

You looked out over the crowd, meeting Dream’s eyes with a smile, he was grinning, clapping loudly as both Sapnap and George seemed to make fun of him.

Dream didn’t care that his bestfriends were berating him from either side, he still looked up at you, looking as beautiful as ever, trying to commit the moment to memory as you smiled back. 

And then the moment was over and you were heading off the stage to sit back down. 

Sometime later you found yourself moving around out on the school’s lawn, taking pictures with various friends and your parents, when you heard someone call your name. 

“(y/n)!” 

You turned, grinning, “Clay!” 

He practically tackled you in a hug, “We made it baby!” 

You could hear your mom taking a picture, as you laughed, “That we did!” 

~~ It was later, that night, you were sitting in your room, trying to take in the events of the day, and the fact that your bestfriend and crush was leaving the next day when your mom called up to your room, “(y/n)! Clay’s here!” 

You rushed down the stairs, not wanting to waste any of the time that you would have to say goodbye. 

Dream was standing in the doorway, his face full of anxiety as he saw you, but he swallowed the feeling, quickly wrapping his arms around you and pressing his lips to yours. 

You froze, hesitating barley a moment before kissing back, looking at him in confusion as he pulled away, you quickly blurted, “I don’t want you to leave.” 

“I don’t want to go where your not.” He said quickly. 

He pulled you into another hug, “Come with me. I- It’s you. Your the girl I like.” 

You chuckled into his neck, “Your the boy I like.” 

He pulled back, looking you in the eyes, repeating, “Come with me?” 

You grinned, “Of course.” 

[honey-dewey]

Dye Day Disasters

Pairing: Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey/Reader

Word Count: 2,377

Warnings: None!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Dio dyes his hair black every three weeks, and he does so in his bathroom. He has it all down to a science, so he should have no problem helping you dye your hair a fun color, right? Let’s just hope this afternoon project doesn’t turn into a colorful hair fail. 

“I’m going out!”

You looked up, seeing Dio by the door, stepping into his boots. “Where to?”

Dio shrugged. “Drug store. It’s dye day.”

Almost immediately, you were up and by his side. “I’m coming.”

“You aren’t dressed,” Dio pointed out. “And why?”

“I wanna dye my hair too,” you said. “Wait here, I’ll be ready in ten.”

True to your word, you were ready in ten minutes. Dio rolled his eyes, but put his arm over your shoulders as you two walked down the street to the drug store on the corner. The summer sun was warm on your skin as you walked, and you had no idea how the hell Dio wasn’t dying in his leather coat.

“Alright,” Dio said once you were in front of the dyes in the drug store. “What color do you want?” As he spoke, he reached over you and grabbed a bottle of black dye for himself.

You shrugged, looking over the dyes. “I dunno. Will I need bleach?”

“Probably. I’ve got some at home, but grab another one just in case.”

You grabbed a bottle of bleach and continued to consider your colors. “What about this?” You pointed to a bottle of hair dye that was the color of maraschino cherries called ‘Poison’. “Danger Days red!”

Dio snorted. “Mhm. Okay Gerard. If you want our bathroom to look like a crime scene, go right ahead.”

You laughed, continuing down the line. “Beetlejuice green?”

“Yeah,” Dio said. “It’d look good on you.”

Humming, you kept looking. “I’ve made up my mind,” you announced, grabbing the ‘Iris green’ and the ‘Virgin pink’ dyes. “We can half-and-half it!”

Dio smiled. “You’ll look like a watermelon.”

“And you’ll look like a bottle of ink again when we’re done,” you pointed out, walking happily to the counter.

When you got back to the apartment, Dio popped over your windows while you dragged your office chair into the kitchen. Spinning it eagerly, you lined up the various dyes on the kitchen counter and called Dio in.

“What the fuck is this?” He asked, seeing you emptying the sink.

“Bathroom gets cramped when it’s the both of us,” you reminded him. “Plus, this chair is infinitely better than bending over the sink.” To demonstrate, you sat in the chair and tipped all the way back, fumbling with the lever on the bottom that would lock it in place. “See?”

Dio sighed, looking over the dyes. “Fine. Drag the chair back over here. I’m bleaching your hair first.”

Rolling back towards Dio, you smiled watching him take his jacket off. “Comfy?” He asked, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“Yep!”

Dio popped open the bleach and expertly mixed it in a dye bowl. He set the bowl on the counter and looked at you. “Do you like that shirt?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’ll ruin it,” Dio said. “Put this on.” He handed you an oversized Panic! at the Disco shirt with bleach and dye stains around the collar. You stripped out of your shirt and put Dio’s on, sitting back down and letting Dio put a towel across your shoulders.

“Ready?” Dio asked.

You nodded. “Do it.”

Dio smiled at your enthusiasm and slowly began to section your hair, using a surprising amount of hair clips. You relaxed into the chair, knowing you’d probably be here for a while. Scrolling aimlessly through your phone, you eventually found a playlist you’d made for Dio some time back. It was entirely the small sliver where his taste in music overlapped with yours. As soon as you hit play, Twenty One Pilots began to play, and Dio chuckled from behind you.

“Why don’t you bleach your hair?” You asked as Dio began to brush the bleach onto your hair.

“I’m going from brown to black. I don’t need to bleach it,” Dio said. “If you were going to black, we wouldn’t be bleaching your hair either.”

You had to stop yourself from nodding. “Okay. Why do you dye your hair?”

Dio paused. “You’re just full of questions today, aren’t you?”

“I’m curious, you emo fuck.”

That drew a laugh out of Dio. “Yeah yeah. I dye my hair because I like having black hair,” he said. “I tried vibrant colors years ago, but I liked having black hair the most.”

You thought about it for a minute. “Wait. If today is dye day, does that mean if we shaved your head, it would be completely brown?”

Dio stopped what he was doing and turned the chair around so you were face to face with him, his hands on the armrests trapping you in place. “Do not,” he said slowly. “We are not shaving my head.”

You nodded, eyes wide. “Okay mr. I’m in charge here. Not shaving your head. Got it.”

Satisfied, Dio turned you back around and continued to mess with your hair. You, still somewhat scared, sat very still as he worked, until he was wrapping your head in plastic wrap and pulling the towel from your shoulders. “Alright. Half an hour, but we’ll check it at twenty minutes.” And then he was gone, headed into the bathroom. You followed, regaining some of the confidence Dio had intimidated out of you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, seeing Dio take his shirt off. “I thought we were doing this in the kitchen.”

“We are,” Dio said, opening the bathroom cabinet and rummaging through it. “I’d just rather not get hair everywhere in the kitchen.” He resurfaced with a pair of scissors. “Have you never seen me do this before?”

You shook your head. “You cut your own hair?”

Dio nodded, ruffling his hair and examining himself in the mirror. “Yeah. I could do yours too, if you want.”

“Yeah no, I’ll leave that to the professionals,” you said, sitting on the edge of the bathroom counter and kicking your legs.

“I am a professional.”

You snorted. “Box dyeing and trimming your own hair doesn’t make you a professional, Dio.”

Dio shrugged one shoulder. “My sister, the oldest one, went to cosmetology school. I was her guinea pig. Eventually, I managed to graduate to the rank of her student. She taught me everything I know about all of this.”

“Huh.” You hadn’t even considered that. “Is she the one who visited last month and told you that you look like an oil spill?”

“Yeah, she is.”

You nodded. “I liked her.”

Dio finished his hair quickly, put a shirt back on, and herded you back into the kitchen to check the bleach. “Eh. We’ll wait the extra ten,” he said. “This stuff is powerful, so you’ll only need one round of bleach.”

The extra ten minutes were wasted with food. Dio sat on the counter while you spun lazily in the chair, humming to yourself and eating. When the timer went off, Dio hopped up and turned the sink on while you readjusted the chair.

“The water won’t be warm,” Dio warned you, but you just shrugged, rolling towards the sink.

Despite the warning, you flinched when the cool water hit your head, and Dio sighed. “Told you.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, and he returned the favor, giving you a flash of his tongue piercing in the process.

Somehow, you managed to relax into the water after a minute. It probably helped that Dio was slowly massaging your head, turning your body into jelly as he worked shampoo through your hair. When he was done, he wrapped your head in a towel and helped you sit up, looking you over for bleach burns. You had none, so he kissed the back of your neck and grabbed your hair dryer.

“Aren’t we gonna dye your hair?” You asked as he unwrapped the towel on your head.

“Yeah. When I finish yours,” he said, turning the hair dryer on and killing any protests you had.

Dio nearly put you to sleep with the hair dryer. It was warm, and he was running his free hand through your hair, and you were just about to fall asleep when he turned the dryer off and poked your shoulders. “Time to dye,” he said in a sinister voice, and you laughed.

“Dork.”

“Sap,” he said in return, mixing the dyes in two separate bowls. “Now’s the time to say something if you want me to cut your hair.”

You shook your head. “Just the color this time.”

Dio nodded, picking up his hair clips and putting them on the edge of his sleeve. He slowly and methodically sectioned your hair in half, clipping down the left side and leaving the right side loose. He turned away, and you heard the harsh snap of rubber gloves. The towel was around your shoulders once more, and then Dio was painting electric pink dye into your hair. He started near the back, so you couldn’t see a single thing he was doing. But you trusted him, so you let him continue, occasionally turning the chair when he asked so he could have better access to your head.

When the pink was done, the green was next. Dio unclipped the left section of hair, humming along to the unbearably adorable Train song you were playing. “Still sure about the watermelon colors?”

“Still sure,” you confirmed, holding up your phone. “Smile!”

Dio looked up and smiled, knowing this photo wouldn’t ever see the light of day. While he started to work the green into your hair, you made the photo your phone background. It was cute, and while Dio wasn’t known for being cute, you knew him differently than everyone else did.

“Green’s done,” Dio announced after a bit. “Let me just wrap it up and then you can do my hair.”

You were plenty eager to dye Dio’s hair, so you sat still as he wrapped your head up again. When he was done, you and him traded places.

“Just read the instructions carefully,” Dio said as you opened the dye. “It’s not as hard as it sounds.”

Dio was right. The instructions where simple, and you were soon pulling on a pair of gloves and putting a towel over Dio’s shoulders. You poured the black dye into the bowl and picked up the brush. “So what?” You asked, standing behind Dio. “I just paint it on?”

“You’re doing my roots, it’ll be easiest if you brush it on and then go back through with your hands,” Dio explained. “Just do what I did on your head. It’ll be hard to fuck this up.”

Nodding, you picked up the brush and began to apply the dye. It was a lot like painting, which you didn’t suck at. You, at Dio’s recommendation, did his hair in sections, the same way you had seen people straighten their hair. It was easy to gain a rhythm like this, and before you knew it, you were done. Dio took over, wrapping his head in plastic wrap and falling onto the couch. “Alright. Half an hour at the least.”

You two cuddled and watched some conspiracy theory show Dio liked, having to pause the episode about Mothman because your timer went off.

“Alright watermelon head,” Dio said, tipping the chair back and gesturing for you to sit. “Let’s get this done.”

Again, you went boneless as Dio used cold water to rinse your hair. Despite the chill that raced down your spine, his hands were experienced and helped relax you as he worked.

“Y’know,” you said softly while Dio was still working. “You could totally do this for a living. You’re good at it.”

“What, dye hair?” Dio asked.

You shrugged as best you could. “No. You could do what your sister does. For a living instead of just for you and me.”

Dio sighed. “Not my thing,” he said. “I’ll stick to doing your head and my own head, thank you very much.”

That was promptly the end of that conversation, mostly because Dio was helping you upright and turning on the hair dryer again. This time, you didn’t fall asleep, focused instead on Dio standing in front of you. His sternum was at your eye level, and you were half tempted to lift his shirt and kiss his belly. But you didn’t, mostly out of fear he’d fuck your hair up.

When he finished, you stood and he sat, tipping the chair back so you could wash his hair.

“No soap?”

“Nope.”

“Cold water?”

“Yep.”

You nodded, turning the sink on and beginning to rinse Dio’s hair. The water ran black for a while while you used your hands to massage Dio’s head, and when it finally ran clear, you turned the water off and squeezed the excess from Dio’s hair. He sat up while you messed with the dryer, turning it on and slowly beginning to dry Dio’s hair.

It took him some time to realize you’d put an attachment on the hair dryer. “Are you diffusing my hair?”

“Maybe,” you said happily, already seeing the curls Dio did his best to hide. “C’mon!” You said upon seeing the displeasure on his face. “Your curls are so pretty!”

Dio continued to pout while you dried his hair, and when you were done, he stood and stretched, shaking his head. “You did good. Wanna see?”

You nodded, pulling Dio into the bathroom and eagerly looked at yourself in the mirror. Dio looked almost no different, the black a bit more prominent and less faded than usual. But you, you looked like a whole different person. The vibrant green and pink gave you life and made you look unforgettable.

“I love it!” You said, ruffling your hair. “Oh it’s so cool!”

Dio smiled. “I’m glad you like it,” he said.

You sent photos to your friends and family while Dio cleaned up, eventually joining you back on the couch so you could finish your conspiracy theory show.

“Thank you,” you said out of the blue, watching someone who claimed to have definitely seen Mothman.

“Hm?” Dio looked down at you, the hand that was running through your hair stopping. “What?”

“Thank you,” you repeated. “For my hair.”

Dio shrugged. “Just doing my job,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Love you.”

“I love you too, you dork.”