#I thought i would do scribbles mostly

[cubur]

Maybe Sasuke and Naruto holding hands?

Here〜

[cjgladback]

My mom requested fridge art from her daughters. And I'd already sketched one siren a bit after first seeing that one post, but that composition definitely will require the layers afforded by digital painting. So behold! A fire engine and its siren. Not too shabby for both my yellow and red markers giving up the ghost while I wasn't paying attention the last few years.

(This is the first time I've really seen how Tumblr size compression can murder a gif, but it wasn't at all helpful at the 540px width so click for quality.)

I did color in the wipers I'd forgotten and make the emblem on the door slightly more legible while editing my phone pic.

Image descriptions under the cut:

[ID: First image is a colorful drawing of a fire engine seen in three-quarters profile, driving toward camera left. On the roof of the truck's cab is a rough rock formation with a large mermaid lying on it, her tail draped down between the cab and trailer of the truck, her left arm pressing against the rocks, and her head held high while she speaks into a megaphone in her right hand. Her hair streams behind her toward a spiky word bubble with a zigzagged electronic tail that reads, "Get out th'way!" in all-caps. The headlights and amber light bar above the truck windshield are all on and the pavement and traffic lines below are represented with horizontal slashes of marker. The drawing is inked with even, thin black lines (a micron pen size 02) and colored with varied hatching with non-blending markers. On close inspection, the emblem on the fire engine's door reads "escucha las sirenas" in all-caps, Spanish for both "listen to the sirens" and "listen to the mermaids."

Second image is a gif of phone camera pictures showing six stages of the fire engine siren process and the final digital edit. First pencil sketch; second all but the lettering inked; third all but the lettering pencil marks erased; fourth inked word bubble with more emphatic italicized lettering; fifth the beginning layers of marker where the artist took a break with some yellow-orange, light red-orange, light blue, and periwinkle mostly over the truck cab; sixth the fully colored phone picture; and finally the edited shot with the white of the page and vibrancy of the colors restored as well as a coloring in the space around the door emblem with a brighter red for readable contrast. End ID]

[yonch]

it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting

info;

♡ fandoms; The Boy, House of Wax, Halloween, Hannibal, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, slashers (general), DBD

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Vincent Sinclair, Micheal Myers, Hannibal Lecter, Thomas Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; mentions of blood/violence

The most random array of characters. All 5 are my bfs tho. Also this is written very very informally because it was originally just for myself lol.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire//

> approximateplotofthe movie. jpeg

> honestly you mind your own business once you realize it’s a doll but assume there’s cameras so mostly behave

> you find yourself naturally coddling his doll like a real child when you’re bored, speaking to him constantly

> even though you’re not doing much to upset him, weird things do start happening around the house

> he mostly wants attention

> you leave a note one day

> “dear brahm’s ghost; i’m sorry if i’m not doing a good job as a nanny. i’m really trying my best. I hope we can be friends”

> he scribbles a smiley face on it and you’re a little freaked out / excited

> when he finally shows himself you’re really stunned. but it makes more sense than a genuine ghost

> you’re in such shock that you just. keep going with the evening and make dinner.

> but even once you come to your senses, you end up more sad than scared

> “…they left you all alone. I’m so sorry.”

> he gives you puppy eyes

> “…I won’t do that to you. I promise. I’m staying.”

> he’s even more in love with you than he first thought. even if you’re going to make him shower six times before bed.

> to his chagrin you don’t help him bathe

> but you do kiss him goodnight

Vincent Sinclair//

> bo brings you to him

> at first he’s making some big deal, “special delivery” and all that

> you’re cute

> really cute

> and bo clearly knew you’re the kind of person vincent would like

> but he’s still got a job to do

> damn it

> “h-hey- wait- i can help you—?”

> that makes him hesitate

> “i’m an artist too. i can help with the sculptures. “

> …

>“i’ll be good. promise.”

> he didn’t need much more convincing than that

> bo is surprised he kept you but makes damn sure you’re not escaping

> but you don’t even try because you just feel so deeply for vincent, and he’s so gentle

> you weren’t lying about being an artist so you’re genuinely helpful

> he falls madly in love when you help him resculpt his mask

Micheal Myers //

> Meet because you wrote letters to him

> Not to interview him or as an obsessive fan

> At first out of curiosity, then as a sort of way to vent, because he never responds

> But as it turns out your letters are the only ones he keeps or even opens at this point

> So his psychologist wants you to meet him to see if you can get him to open up- of course there’s a cash incentive

> He doesn’t say a word from the other side of the glass.

> Obviously.

> But you treat it like a normal visit to a friend and just chat mindlessly a while

> And you’re so much tinier and cuter in person

> He wants to stab you so much

> But realizes that if he killed you, he might miss you

> Ew that’s a scary thought

> Still wants to make you scream tho uwu

> He escapes

> Because he’s Micheal Myers that’s what he does

> After his spree he finds himself in your house, bloodsoaked and honestly not all that sure what he’ll do when he sees you

> You don’t even scream, just give a tiny ‘eep’

> “…Micheal?”

> He regrips his knife so he can get it over with. You’ll just tattle

> “Oh gosh- you’re soaked from the rain. And all that blood-let’s get you a shower? I can get you some fresh clothes too,”

> He’s staring down at you in disbelief

> “…what? You thought I’d try and call the cops? I like talking to you.”

> There’s something very wrong with you

> It’s kind of hot

> He puts him knife away and follows you

Hannibal Lecter//

> you’re his patient lol

> at first he doesn’t have much interest in you outside of work

> but god, you’d be such a perfect subject to manipulate with that little authority figure problem you have

> and even though you’re young

> you do recognize some of the finer things in life

> mostly his artwork and cooking. you’re really good at inadvertently stroking his ego

> he starts diving into darker subjects in therapy

> you’re a bit of a morbid person under the sunshine-y exterior

> perfect

> he’s still chipping away at something big you’re keeping from him

> he could do some digging online and through your files but where’s the fun in that

> he gets you tipsy and then starts with the psycho babble

> you finally crack

> you killed some guy that was stalking you years ago

> god that’s hot

> you liked it, at least a little bit

> even hotter

> you licked the blood off your hands and it tasted good

> he’s in love ; good luck leaving

Thomas Hewitt //

> car trouble! it’s always car trouble

> honestly when you rock up to the gas station alone Luda Mae is thinking that it’s a shame the fridge at home is already full

> but you’re the sweetest little customer

> “your name is really pretty ma’am. ever since i was little i decided if i had a daughter, her name would be Audrey Mae”

> new plan, she’s playing matchmaker

> there’s just something about you that’s so gentle

> and mildly off-putting, like the rest of the family

> she brings you out to the farm to see if they have the car parts you need

> and to stay the night, if you really need to

> you run smack dab into Thomas in his old half mask walking in- even Luda expects you to recoil at the least

> instead you turn a bit pink

> “oh gosh- I’m so so sorry sir-“

> Thomas stares at you

> You just shyly introduce yourself, talking enough for both of you

> Luda Mae is already planning the wedding

> “That’s my youngest Tommy- why don’t you show em around? Alright baby?”

> Thomas is a bit hesitant but you’re so little and cute and smell so good—

> He’s already obsessed oops

[saerins]

°୨୧ INEVICABLY, UNDENIABLY

+ gojo satoru x f!reader | wc 3.3k | content: fluff, modern au, friends to roommates to lovers, timeskip thing; from high school -> adulthood, alcohol, implied sex, children, marriage, gojo is mostly clingy and annoying and we love him for it, the years and age correspond to his actual birthdate, take this as my birthday fic for him <3

summary: despite seemingly having it all, gojo satoru’s goal has always been the same all these years you’ve known him—all he wants in life is you, and only you. during his birthday this year, gojo counts his blessings.

2006; seventeen.

the day you agreed to be satoru’s partner in homeroom class is the day you signed away your sanity. not because satoru’s hard to get along with or that he’s rude or slacks off, but because it’s hard not to fall for a boy with such pretty eyes and even prettier lips who likes to say the most beautiful things.

getting to know satoru is like taking a deep in the clearest, coldest ocean after an entire lifetime of being dipped in molten lava. he’s annoying, refreshing and eye-opening all in one.

satoru shows promise in the first lesson, doing fairly well at cooking and sowing, although afterwards he just falls off because you end up having to teach him how to properly use alcohol in his cooking so he doesn’t burn himself or that you’d end up patching his fingers up since he accidentally pokes himself a lot more than the average human would.

still, it’s not his fault he isn’t naturally talented in the home economics department. he is in sports, you find out, after a few months of being in the same class as him.

“hey, y/n.” he’s leaning back on his chair, depending on its hind two legs for support. it’s become his habit during class to bother you whenever the teachers aren’t in.

you were assigned the seat diagonally behind him, and it’s become a habit for you to ignore him—mostly because most of the time, it’s nonsense that falls out of those lips, especially after you’d gotten close. it’s his sign of affection, you realise.

“hey y/n, i’m being serious this time, i need to talk to you,” satoru whines, pouting and sighing in that over dramatic way that only he can.

that’s also not the first time he’s tricked you into acknowledging him so all you do is look at him, a smile appearing that you failed to suppress, and bring a finger to your lips, signalling for him to hush.

unperturbed, satoru smirks and gets to scribbling on a piece of paper, folding it (annoyingly and quickly) into a swan before handing it to you. he winks at you, and you’re immediately driven not to give him satisfaction by reading it. instead, you bow slightly and stuff it in your pencil case, making satoru pout again and giving yourself the sweet taste of victory.

the rest of your sophomore year in high school, you find yourself growing closer to satoru, an unfamiliar feeling growing inside of you. you find that you like knowing what makes him tick, and even the way he says your name, or even watching him ace every kind of sport and then having him blow a teasing kiss to you after each win.

“y/n, i’m so jealous of you, how’d you manage to get gojo satoru of all people?” one of your classmates whine, swooning endlessly over him.

you only laugh it off, deigning to think too much of it.

it’s weird; he’s most of the schoolgirls’ crushes, but you’ve never considered him to be yours. maybe it’s just a fleeting feeling that will go away with the test of time.

yeah, that should be all that is.

2007; eighteen.

“why not? we’re practically going to the same college.”

with time, you thought that maybe satoru would become a little more sane. like how growing into adults, you slowly shed the ridiculous dreams you had as a child. but he’s not, if not—he’s even more insane.

“we haven’t got the results yet, satoru.”

“i’m pretty sure we’ll get in though.”

“and what’s your basis for that?”

“i’m never wrong about these.”

as always, satoru lives in his own little bubble and you can’t help but to sigh. in his head, both of you will get into that same college you applied for and he has it all planned out: “we get into college, sign up for whatever classes, and then rent an apartment together—genius right?”

that was satoru just moments ago, elbows leaned over the grocery cart as he grins at you, beaming like a dog waiting for their owner’s approval. now he’s still doing the same, except you’ve flicked him on the forehead before turning your attention to the aisles because apparently, he says he hates the food at home and would rather have what you’re cooking.

he’s made it his life mission to invade your meals over the weekend, squeezing himself into your family, bonding with your sibling and your parents and only then did you realise what you forgot in the first place: satoru is one of the most charming people to ever walk the earth. your siblings constantly ask about the next time he’s coming over, and your parents are just waiting for you to announce that he’s your boyfriend—which he’s not, but he sure likes to make it seem that way.

another thing you notice about satoru thanks to your now-weekly grocery runs: he likes to wander around way too much, and complains afterwards when he finds you after losing you.

“y/n!”

it’s like routine by now; the way satoru rushes over to you, putting his arm around your shoulder and sticking his cheek against yours, telling you how he almost died because he thought he lost you—like the drama queen he is. by now, all you can offer him is a ruffle of his hair before you carry on like normal, as though your heart isn’t beating right out of your chest from that simple proximity.

because satoru, despite his generally icy look, is always warm; his body heat, his cheeks, the way he looks into your eyes all the time, even his fingertips when they brush against you.

you think he’s especially warm when he falls asleep beside you after watching a late night movie, his head nuzzled in your neck, hands somehow rested over your own. your favourite thing about the friendship, though, try as you might to deny it, is how satoru’s hands always find yours when he walks you home, fingers lacing around your own as if it’s second nature.

ever since then, these routines have become a staple, and perhaps even does your growing feelings. the inexplicable one.

2008; nineteen.

satoru was right.

both of you did get into the same university, and the same course, with different minors so at least there’s some differences. so of course, satoru did not let the shared apartment idea go. though, of course, thanks to your initial hesitance on the matter, the only available apartment is a 4-bedroom, entirely too big and hence you’d convinced satoru to just rent the other bedrooms out for extra change.

and no, satoru does not need extra change because his family’s loaded (which you realised you didn’t even know before this) but at least this would allow you to not dwell on whatever you’re feeling too much. university is going to be stressful enough without the added consideration of your possible feelings towards satoru.

then enters geto suguru—your new roommate who, thankfully, steals enough of satoru’s attention so you have some breathing room. turns out, they’re like two peas in a pod. but while you and satoru major in business, suguru majors in psych. so that still means satoru’s around just you most of the time.

some routines change; like how movie nights are shared amongst the three of you in the living room instead of just you and satoru in your room. or how during grocery runs satoru still runs up to you when he finds you again except this time, an exasperated suguru is beside you sighing at him, always a “how do you stand this guy?” rolling off his tongue. the most surprising one for you might be how meals include suguru now and satoru’s the one who does the cooking now, and funnily enough, he’s absolutely great at it. no ounce of hesitation as he flips the pancakes, or stirs the fried rice—no whining about how it’s too hard because he’ll get burns on his fingertips and has to ask you to tend to his wounds.

but some change in a different way. they leave no room for someone else, like how satoru always finds your hands to hold on to, keeping you within a reach too close to pass as just friends but both of you refusing to label it anything else anyways. it leaves no room for other people to butt in and whisk either of you away.

and for now, at least, both of you are okay with just that.

2009; twenty.

participating in different activities and clubs inevitably mean that you and satoru wouldn’t be attached at the hip most of the time. and of course, while that leads to satoru becoming even clingier when you’re both home (not that you’re complaining when it’s nice to feel wanted from the very guy you’re completely not having a crush on), both of you are in separate social circles.

satoru occasionally has his friends over, the ones you don’t really know that well. the one where you can only remember names like haibara because he’s extra friendly and yuki because she’s one of the prettiest people you’d ever seen and nori because she’s a mix of the two. you’re nice, and cordial to all of them, although you can’t really say the same for satoru.

occasionally you and suguru invite your friends over, because nicely enough, you both have the same interests. it’s mostly shoko and nanami, a med student and law student respectively, but both of which satoru loves to annoy to no end. lucky for you, shoko is strangely naturally tolerant of his antics and nanami shrugs it off as white noise.

“y/n, surely you’d rather spend time with me rather than that blondie?” satoru always asks, pouting as he looks at you over his shoulder during breakfast—a constant whenever you have plans that involve nanami.

it’s kind of cute.

“mmm, that’s a secret,” you’d always tell him, knowing that satoru’s pouts won’t last all day anyway. it’ll relegate to an excited grin whenever you’re back after that.

you’d never really had to face your feelings, then, until all of you gather one night, before the holidays officially start. you should’ve known that something would be different this time, especially when there’s alcohol involved. naturally, in the circle you sit in, satoru asks people to scoot over, purposely sitting beside you, as close as he can, close enough that your arms and knees practically brush.

it’s just for a simple game of truth or dare, and it’s innocent enough until someone asks nanami and he says truth, and his truth is that out of everyone he knows, he’d most likely date you. beside you, while everyone else is whooping at the declaration, satoru clicks his tongue in annoyance, though he says nothing about it. and you’re not really emphatic about it until someone dares nori to kiss the guy she wants to date the most and she kisses satoru, deep and slow, in front of you, haibara letting slip that she’s had a crush on satoru for a while now.

satoru’s five shots in and tipsy and he was imagining that was you and maybe that’s why it lasted for five seconds before he pulls away.

and when it comes to satoru?

as though noticing his dilemma, suguru gives an amused smile as he states his dare, “kiss the girl you most wanna marry.”

he doesn’t waste a single second in pulling you close and kissing you, his alcohol-tainted lips pressing against yours, daring tongue teasingly prying open your lips, chuckling as he feels you kiss him back.

“not most,” satoru corrects right as the both of you pull away, his forehead still pressed against yours and both of your half-lidded pair of eyes still staring at each other.

“what?” you’re almost breathless, forgetting that everyone else is watching.

“the only girl i wanna marry.” and you think he’s never looked more handsome, genuine smile plastered on his face and pretty blue eyes threatening to pull you in.

while everyone moves on, satoru doesn’t—he keeps you there with him, telling you for the first time in four years since he’s known you, “i love you.”

the next week, after you get home for the holidays, the first time being away from satoru in a while, you manage to find your old pencil case, the folded paper swan satoru folded for you all those years ago still inside, somehow forgotten.

curious, you finally open it, finding his message enclosed inside, bringing a smile to your face.

i’m gonna marry you one day.

2010; twenty-one.

dating satoru is like finding a new hobby that you’re effortlessly good at.

despite living under the same roof, instead of finding out the ugly, you find the good in each other. even with suguru in the mix, you all live harmoniously like you have been since the start. except now, satoru likes to sleep in your room, both of you fooling around and occasionally forcing suguru to tell you to pipe down.

satoru is still full of surprises, sometimes pulling up with his car as though both of you don’t sleep under the same roof, telling you that he planned a date and to dress nice. he buys you flowers even if you’re not particularly fancy of them and surprises you by buying things that simply reminded him of you.

dating satoru is like finding out that the right person for you will always think of you and your feelings, no matter the circumstance. the way he makes sure to tell you if he has to hang around nori, or the way he asks if you need anything when he passes by the grocery store alone, or going so far as to memorise your cycle so he knows exactly what to show up back home with.

by the time it’s your one-year anniversary and his birthday comes and you ask him what he wants, all he can answer is “you” and for the first time, you can tell he isn’t trying to be annoying or cheeky or flirty—satoru is surprisingly simple and his answer always has been and somehow always will be just you.

2013; twenty-four.

you still remember the day satoru got down on one knee, his handsome smile even more radiant under the golden hour glow, those still-beautiful blue eyes gleaming even from beneath his bangs.

just an intimate proposal with your closest friends, both shoko and suguru helping to distract you in order to create a successful surprise, while nanami and haibara helped with the decorations and photography.

thanks to them, you’re laughing now, at your wedding reception, looking at all the ways you nearly found them out that day, exactly one year ago, in the form of pictures. and thanks to the best man’s toast, you find out that suguru’s always known about satoru’s feelings, and just how deep his emotions for you ran.

“i won’t forget how much he whined about y/n getting close to nanami. that was probably the one time his whining got so out of control that i wanted to stuff a pillow over his face,” suguru divulges, garnering laughs around the hall, including from you, as your new husband pouts and squeezes your hand.

thanks to that, nanami finds the need to disclose during his speech, “i have never intended to date nor had such thoughts about y/n. my truth during that game of truth or dare was simply the result of a process of elimination—” and haibara cuts him off to give a more fitting speech, fits of laughter all across the room.

that day, you steal glances at satoru, wondering how you got so lucky to be with someone who loves you so much and continuously proves so with every passing day.

“satoru?” you call to him softly that night, as you both find yourselves completely bare in the bedroom of your new apartment, one to yourselves.

his piercing blue eyes flick up to meet yours, relishing how it feels like inside of you, every time as though it’s the first. “yeah?” it’s breathy, because he’s about to lose himself.

“i love you, satoru, and only you, forever and ever,” you tell him, finally knowing that in this life, it will always be gojo satoru for you, and that it’s the same for him too.

he only chuckles, pulling you close, “forever me and you, baby, only us.”

2023; present day.

“wow, more than ten years, i think i need to give you a trophy for that, y/n.”

satoru groans, rolling his eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

beside him, suguru laughs at shoko’s comment. this time, the six of you find yourselves at a round table in a seafood restaurant during satoru’s birthday, talking about how it’s you and satoru’s tenth year together too.

“i’m not too much, am i?” satoru teasingly asks you, although you only shrug in amusement before drinking your glass of water as an excuse not to answer.

you’ve always been like that, but it’s part of what satoru likes about you. scratch that, he’s loved every part of you since he met you. it’s like it was meant to be; or so he likes to think. there’s an undeniable pull that always lulls him back to you. to satoru, there’s never been question that you’re the only one for him, maybe that’s why it’s so clear-cut.

“you’re just so head over heels for me, huh?” you ask him, a smug grin on your face, the conversational context something he’s missing since he’s been zoning out in his thoughts.

since the first time he saw you, he’s been drawn to you every second of every day. maybe that’s why he did all those stupid stuff like pretending not to be able to cook and ‘accidentally’ burning himself to get you to tend to him, or purposely pricking himself with the needle and asking you to put a plaster over it just to feel you close. even those times at the supermarket when he purposely loses you so he can find you again and see your helpless smile and feel the way you rub his head affectionately afterwards.

maybe it’s stupid too, how he had to silently admit he knows how to cook all too well because he didn’t want suguru to taste your cooking when he first moved in. it was something satoru felt he wanted to himself, something he wanted to keep between him and his future wife. or how a wordless stare between him and suguru during that game of truth or dare was all suguru needed to know that satoru wanted to make you his at that very second, afraid that kiss between him and nori would make you hesitant.

he shouldn’t have underestimated you though, because you know him better than most people do. there were never any pointless arguments or unrecoverable friction.

as they sing happy birthday annoyingly loud like best friends do, chanting for him to make a wish—his hands find yours again as they always did, he can honestly say that there’s no other way he’d rather live his life. you’re made for him and he has you and the little mini yous at home so really, there’s nothing that he has to wish for.

except, maybe, one thing, if he could be selfish.

in this life, and every other life, he’ll want to be with you and only you, forever.

[folklvrsworld]

between the books ♡

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, kissing, swearing/cussing, slightly spying

summary: reader is doing assignments in the library when she feels a pair of eyes watching her, harry decided to distract her and get her mind off of school for a hot minute

song: collide - justin skye, tyga

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

Being a sixth year doesn't mean you can relax. Yes, we do have a lot more free time, but those free times are mostly used for doing homework, which the professors gave a lot, or studying for N.E.W.T. exams that we will have to do in our seventh year.

I was in the library, scribbling down answers for my defence against the dark arts homework, while constantly switching books. The library wasn't empty that day, but it wasn't full either. As I was writing, I felt like someone was watching me. I looked around, but no one was looking at my direction.

I shrugged it off and continued on what I was doing. I finally finished my homework and I closed the books, before putting them back in the right shelves. As I was returning the last book, I felt a presence behind me and before I could turn around, I felt someone kiss my neck.

"Harry..." I giggled quitely while turning around to see the raven haired boy standing in front of me.

"Took you long enough to notice me." he grinned and pecked my lips slowly.

I kissed him back and pulled away with a raised eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"I've been watching you for the past ten minutes, I thought you would notice me, but you were very focused on your homework." he chuckled, kissing me again.

"I knew I felt someone was watching me." I said in between kisses, "Now we really shouldn't make out here, I have homework to do."

He groaned, "Oh come on, it's time for you to have a little break. What d'you say?" he smiled while running his hands up and down my waist.

I gulped and stared at him in the eyes, he wasn't wrong, I do need a little break. I've been doing homework for the past three hours, my fingers were tired from writing, my brain was tired from thinking, I needed a distraction.

"Fine.." I finally said, earning a big grin from him before he pinned me to the bookshelf and kissed my neck, "W-Wait...Here?!"

He pulled away and shrugged, "Why not? If you're comfortable with it, of course."

I reminded myself that we were on the back of the library, the section where no one really comes to, so if we were to do it here, it would be somewhat safe. We just have to be quiet.

"Okay...We have to be quiet though."

He chuckled, "You mean you have to be quiet, princess." he smirked as his hand started to go under my skirt, "Let me take care of you, yeah? I know you're tired, you don't have to do anything."

His words gave me butterflies on my stomach. Sex with him was always either gentle and sweet, rough and kinky, or lusty and passionate. Him being cute and gentle was always my favorite one.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and stroked the back of his neck before leaning in to kiss him, as our lips collided and moved in sync, his hand made its way to my underwear. He stroked my clit through the fabric making me gasp and  have goosebumps from head to toe.

"Shh, relax. I'll be gentle." he muttered through the kiss as he felt the wetness on the underwear, he fiddled with the fabric at first, before slowly taking it off of me.

When it was off, he kept it in his pocket and started to trail his thumb over my clit. I shuddered at his touch and he did it over and over again, "Can you tell me what you want, princess?"

I nearly come undone hearing his words, but I managed to look him in the eyes while saying, "Touch me...Please, Harry..."

He smiled and pecked my lips before slowly entering a finger in, while still caressing my clit with his thumb. I held back a moan as I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip.

"Merlin, you're so wet." he groaned quitely as he went in and out with his finger, and not long after, he added a second finger.

I threw my head back to the bookshelf and couldn't help but let out a little gasp, he started moving faster and faster, it was getting really hard to hold back my moans. When he added a third finger, he knew I was about to moan, because he slammed his lips onto mine.

"F-Fuck..." I moaned quitely through the kiss, his fingers moving in and out frantically, I pulled away and gasped for air.

Suddenly, I felt the knot in my stomach forming, my body was starting to shake, I was close. Harry seemed to realize as he stopped for a second to rest his fingers before going in and out in a frantic pace, his thumb stroking my clit.

"Come for me, baby." he said while unbuttoning my shirt and squeezing my boobs gently.

Not wasting another moment, I bit back a moan as I felt my body completely let go. I let out little whimpers of pleasure as my body jerk and shake a little from the force of the orgasm. When I've relaxed, he gently pulled his fingers out and licked them clean.

"Good girl." he smiled at me and kissed me, letting me taste myself on his tongue, "Do you want more or was that enough for you, my love?"

I panted heavily, still recovering from the orgasm, and looked at him and his bulge. I knew I would have to really fight myself to not moan if we go further, but my body needed him. Badly.

"You deserve some too, Harry. Not just me." I smiled while fumbling with his pants, he raised an eyebrow before smirking lightly.

He understood what I wanted so he quickly took of his pants and underwear, while I completely took off my shirt, leaving me only in my skirt and bra. He picked me up and made me straddle him before taking one of my boobs into his mouth.

I moaned quitely as I tug his hair and let out a sigh of pleasure. He continued sucking on my breast while playing with the other one, before pulling away and looking at me in the eyes, "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met, Y/N."

My body instantly was filled with euphoria hearing that, my cheeks went red as I smiled at him and kissed him. He kissed me back with tongue as he gave his dick a few strokes before gently and slowly entering me.

"O-Oh, fuck...." I pulled away from the kiss and moaned, with our foreheads still touching.

He breathed heavily and continued to thrust himself deeper. When he's fully in me, he paused for a second to take a deep breath, before slowly moving in and out.

"H-Harry..." I rested my hand on his shoulder and clawed his back, we were only getting started and we were already such a moaning mess.

"Y-You feel so good, Merlin..." he moaned, squeezing my ass as he continued his rapid movement.

We were looking into each other's eyes as he moved in and out of me. Both of us sweating and breathing heavily, euphoria and pleasure feeling both our bodies. It wasn't until we heard someone talking that we knew someone was in the shelf next to ours.

"No, that's not the one I'm looking for. Maybe it's in the next shelf."

I widened my eyes and mouthed to Harry, "We're the next shelf!"

He was about to pull out of me but before he could do anything, another voice was heard, "Wait, here it is. Nevermind, we don't have to go to the other shelf, Celia. I got it."

We both took a deep breath of relief and waited for them to leave, when they did, he looked at me and smirked, "Now, where were we?" he started moving in and out of me again. 

Not so long after, he thrusted deep inside me, hitting my g-spot. I had to bury my face on the crook of his neck to hold myself from screaming out of pleasure. I was in absolute bliss. His thrust became faster and harder by the second.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck baby..." I whimpered into his neck, my body jerking from the force of his thrust.

He stroked my back reassuringly and eagerly kissed my neck to calm me down, "Shh, I know, sweetheart. I know."

He started hitting my g-spot over and over again, my body was jerking and shaking from the amount of pleasure I was getting. Little gasps and moans coming out of my mouth, as I feel the knot on my stomach forming again.

"I-I'm close, Harry..." I gasped and my legs tightened the grip on his waist.

He nodded his head and groaned, while pulling away from my neck after successfully making a hickey there, "Me too. Oh fucking hell, love.."

His movement suddenly became fast and hard, he was trying to reach both of our orgasms. My mouth was hung open in a silent scream, he was gasping for air and watching me slowly come building up to my release.

"Beautiful. So fucking beautiful."

With his words, I come undone. I tried my best to moan quitely, as my body convulsed and my thighs shake. I saw stars and I couldn't feel anything else except for pleasure. I never wanted it to end. I was having uncontrollable spams. It was the hardest orgasm I've ever had.

A second after my release, he had his. He buried his face into my chest as he groaned and released inside me. I felt his hot liquid filling me up, making me shudder and jerk slightly. As we were both coming down from our high, he stroked my stomach gently to calm me down, and I stroked his hair.

When we both have relaxed, we looked at each other and couldn't help but smile. He pulled out of me slowly and set me down on my feet, I trembled but I quickly leaned against the shelf so I don't fall down.

"Did you enjoy it, my love?" he said out of breath, while moving a strand of hair from my face.

I nodded my head vigorously and chuckled, "Every second of it, darling." I smiled, "God, I really needed that. Homework has been stressing me out lately."

He smiled and kissed my forehead, "I noticed, princess." he took out my underwear from his pocket and gave it to me, "We should dress up before anyone sees us."

We quickly tidied ourselves up. We made ourselves look like we did not just fuck the shit out of each other as much as we could. I fixed him a bit and he did the same for me, before we both walk away from the shelf hand in hand.

I quickly gathered my stuff that was still on the table before walking out of the library with him, "That was one of the craziest things I've ever done."

He chuckled and shrugged, "Hey, everyone does crazy things from time to time. But you didn't regret it, did you?" he said as he put a bit of my hair at the front, to hide my hickey.

I smiled up at him and shook my head, "Not one bit, Harry."

[sant-riley]

Yeah but like what if one day Gaz walked into a room and saw Y/N FNAF lore dumping to Ghost

[Infodumping the boys]

(Mostly Platonic tf141 x gen neutral! reader, hints at Ghost bc it’s me and I’m biased.)

Summary: Teddy aka You, decide to gather the gang and tell them about five nights at Freddy’s before the movie comes out.

Word count: 800 ish

Warnings: Possibly of for the boys (idrc tho lmao), Teddy is this readers callsign, reader is implied to be at least early 20’s, I can’t think of anything else tbh but lmk if this does need something tagged!

It wasn't uncommon for you to infodump your teammates, they're all older than you and have significantly less screen time than you (it ties into being older). Most of the information you give them is something they take as fact, this is no different.

Gaz of all people knows your interests best, you two being the closest in age means you both realistically grew up with the internet and its most popular series.

The last thing he expected walking into one of the many meeting rooms on base, was you at the front of the room, your laptop hooked up to the projector and Price and Soap sitting down, dutifully listening with varying degrees of attention.

Price is to your left, staring down at mission documents that no doubt need to be turned in by tomorrow. A glass of some liquor next to his stack, a cigar box that's propped open right by it as well.

To anyone else, it would seem like Price isn't listening and he's just here to keep you from bothering him to come but Gaz can see the Captain's eye flick up every so often, his eyes softening when his gaze falls on yours, listening for a few beats, a miniscule upturn of his lips until he's looking back down again, grabbing a pen to make a correction.

Soap on the other hand is sitting next to Cap, a hand resting under his chin, the other flipping around a pen in his hands. He's nodding and asking questions as you flick through. Below him is a notebook that seems to have scribbled in it, if Gaz walked in further he could see little drawings of Monty Gator and Soap himself, a Venn diagram with a large red writing saying "Mohawk!!"

Ghost being there probably should be a shock but it isn't. The man is known to follow you around like a shadow, he humors you arguably the most out of the four men, letting you drag him to and from places with minimal complaint. He bets Ghost is gonna be the one to take you to the five nights at Freddys movie premiere.

Simon's dressed down to just his hoodie and his balaclava mask, attentively watching you as you speak passionately about each character and their role in the series. his dark eyes flicking around to stare at the drawings you inserted so everyone could see what the animatronics and others looked like.

You would've thought this was a mission debrief with how focused he was on your words.

Gaz lets out a fake cough, announcing himself to the room and he watches as your eyes immediately latch onto him, he ignores how his heart skips a beat when he sees the crinkles of your eyes, seeing you shoot a glowing smile his way.

You always look at him like that but he never tires of it.

"Gaz! Finally, you're here!"

Rushing over to him, you grab at his hand, quickly intertwining fingers, and start dragging him to the seat next to Ghost. He sits down with a huff, amusement swimming around his eyes. You move to go back to the front of the room, gleefully rocking on the balls of your feet as you look at them.

"What's all this about?" He questions, after getting nods in acknowledgment from the other 3 men in the room.

"Teddy here is tellin' us about five nights at…Frankies?"

"It's Freddy's, Johnny." You roll your eyes playfully.

"No shot you're making Ghost and Cap listen to this."

"I'm not making them do anything, they're here of their own free will, thank you very much." Sticking out your tongue, moving to click to the next slide.

"Is that true Cap?"

"It's background noise," John murmurs with a shrug, taking a swig out of his glass. He leans back in his seat, seemingly taking a momentary break as he looks around at the table.

"Got nothin' better else to do," Simon answers easily, looking at Gaz from the corner of his eye.

"You ain't gonna ask me, Garrick?"

"Nah, you of all people would enjoy it."

"What's tha-"

"Boys! Shut it! We're getting to the good part!" You clap your hands together and Soap immediately cuts himself off, looking back at you.

With all the boys' eyes on you, you clear your throat and push a button, there, from when Gaz remembers, is Michael Afton in all his purple nasty body glory.

"Fucks wrong with him? Why does he look like that?" Simon remarks, an eyebrow shooting up.

"I'm so glad you asked, you know actually the more I think about it, You and Michael actually have a lot in common.”

"How so?"

"Asshole dad, the oldest brother, daddy issues, I can keep going if you want."

Ghost just grunts in acknowledgment, raising a hand to his head and rubbing at his temples.

Price chokes on his liquor, coughing as it goes down the wrong pipe.

Soap audibly drops an "oh."

And Gaz just stares, truth be told, yeah. Yeah, he can see the resemblance.

[peachdues]

Bundle of Joy

Part 1/2 of a secret-pregnancy drabble between Sanemi and the Reader, who is the Lunar Hashira (not the same one from TWAHM). Protective/soft Sanemi, but the other Hashira don't know he's the daddy.

CW: suggestive/smut, blood, pregnancy, difficult labor. Sanemi is a dick to everyone but is so soft for Y/N.

You can find Part Two here and the prequel one-shot here

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Pregnant, Kocho had said, you’re pregnant.

She had sat there for a moment, too stunned to say anything right away. Her eyes flitted between the gentle look on the Insect Hashira’s face and the results of the blood work clutched in her hand.

Pregnant.

In retrospect, Y/N knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. Sanemi was a passionate lover, and she loved being the object of his passion, in both the bedroom and in those quiet, stolen moments shared at one another’s estates, away from prying eyes.

And sometimes, there were less-than-quiet moments where a certain someone had begged Sanemi to stay inside and give it to me, baby, please!

Okay, Y/N conceded, maybe those moments occurred more than sometimes (far more), and Sanemi had only been too happy to oblige her.

And so Y/N was pregnant.

“Well, that’s a surprise!” Y/N said with a soft chuckle, absent mindedly placing a hand over her flat stomach.

Kocho watched Y/N for a moment. “Y/N,” Y/N was surprised to hear Kocho refer to her by her first name, even more so when Kocho moved to place a hand over hers. “you are more than free to keep the child that comes from this pregnancy, or…” Kocho furrowed her eyebrows, struggling to phrase the information delicately, “we have things here that would terminate the pregnancy early. It would be painless.” She promised.

Y/N blinked in surprise. The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind, but the thought of not letting the the child in her belly grow… no, she couldn’t do that.

“Thank you, Shinobu, truly,” Y/N squeezed her hand lightly. “But I wish to see this through.”

Kocho nodded, withdrawing her hand to reach for a stack of papers stacked besides her on the small exam table. “Well in that case, I will need to inform the Master right away. You can still perform some missions for now, but nothing too strenuous. The first few months of pregnancy are quite tricky.” Shinobu began scribbling down a message, but paused mid-word.

“Y/N… is the father… involved?”

Ah. That problem.

It wasn’t so much a problem for her and Sanemi as it was for everyone else. When they had finally given in to the simmering desire between them while training more than a year earlier, neither of them had intended for it to continue. But one time had not been nearly enough, and suddenly, Y/N had found herself craving his voice, his touch, and his lips, and he, hers. It had not taken long for them to realize how ridiculously, stupidly in love they were.

But they had both agreed to not tell the other Hashira — or anyone — about their affair. The decision mostly stemmed from practicality; the Master, while he did not oppose relationships amongst the Hashira, did have a practice of not pairing them up together once their relationship was made public. The Master believed, ultimately, it was too risky, as both would seek to protect the other, potentially to the detriment of civilians and other slayers alike.

It was a rational justification, but it did little to stifle the electricity which cackled between the two Pillars. It held little weight against the stony will of Sanemi Shinuzagawa.

Sanemi had been the first one to crack during an intense sparring session. He had caught Y/N off guard after she had dodged an attack, using the wind to pitch himself into her blind spot and sweep her shapely legs from beneath her.

But Y/N had never been one to go down without a fight, so she had wound the Wind Pillar’s haori around her fist mid-fall, and successfully brought him right down with her.

On top of her.

Sanemi had fallen with a grunt, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he realized Y/N had still managed to out-maneuver him, even after he had bested her. His full weight upon her, he had stared at her with a bewildered look in his eyes, breathing hard out of his nose as he struggled to collect himself.

His eyes flitted down once to Y/N’s fist, still wrapped in his haori, before they had lifted back up to her mouth, settling on that stupid, shit-eating smirk she had.

There had been no thoughts in Sanemi’s head as he crashed his mouth against hers in a flurry of lips and teeth.

Y/N had been frozen for half a second before she snapped back into herself and hauled him closer, meeting each demanding swipe of his tongue stroke for stroke.

Within minutes both of of the Pillars’ clothing had been reduced to shreds, and Sanemi’s head had found a home between Y/N’s legs. It had taken embarrassingly little effort on his part to bring her over the edge not once, but twice.

And when he finally flipped her on all fours and rammed his proud length into her desperate core, Y/N had come apart again, half-sobbing his surname as pleasure mixed with pain from overstimulation.

“You know my fuckin’ name. Use it.” He had snarled in between the ruthless snapping of his hips against her.

That night, Shinazugawa had made sure Y/N could only say one word:

Sanemi. Sanemi. Sanemi.

And when it was finally over, and the two had collapsed next to each other on the dirt ground of his training ring, spent and satisfied, Sanemi had told the sweaty Lunar Pillar that she was to report to his Mansion for training sessions forthwith.

Nightly training sessions.

Because one taste had ignited an inferno of desire between the two of them that could not be snuffed out. It could only be tamed when Y/N’s fingers buried themselves in his hair as his own tight grip on her hips and thighs left marks on her skin, his hips setting a relentless and savage pace as he rutted into her, wanton and needy. A fire that could only be soothed when Sanemi sent her hurtling over the edge of her pleasure and found himself free-falling after her, spilling himself inside her warmth until she was filled with nothing but him.

It had not been long before the emotional passion followed their more carnal desires. Y/N had known she was in deep when she had confessed to him her deepest fears of not living past the age of her elder brother and falling to demons the same way he had. She knew he felt the same way when, in the middle of the night, having been startled awake from some unseen terrors in his mind, he stopped leaving the futon they shared to sit out on the engawa stare up at the moon, instead seeking the comfort of her embrace, burying his nose into her hair as he willed his heartbeat to slow.

And so, for more than a year, the two Hashira had kept up the charade of being disinterested co-workers in public, concealing their endless passion, adoration, and concern for one another that they held in private. It appeared that none of the other Pillars were any the wiser.

The only difficulty now would be in how to tell him the news.

She would tell him, of course, the moment she returned to his estate in the dead of night, when she knew the other Hashira would be sleeping or out on patrol, far away from the grounds of Sanemi’s manor. Y/N would tell him, and then they would decide how to move forward, together.

Sanemi, who was so strong, so capable, was also so, so protective. He knew that Y/N was more than capable of handling herself on missions, but too much personal tragedy had scarred him and he found himself unable to leave her completely alone. Even if she had been assigned to complete what was technically a solo mission, Sanemi was always within a few miles to rush to her aid, should she need it. And Y/N was the same way with him. A true team, who could and would figure out how to deal with any obstacle.

But until then…

Y/N smiled, attempting to reassure Shinobu. “I’ll take care of it. Thank you, Shinobu, truly.”

Shinobu pursed her lips, debating whether to push her friend further on the matter. It wasn’t her place to pry, true, but she couldn’t help but worry.

While Shinobu knew Y/N could handle herself— very well — she also knew how it was to be a woman in society. Men were relentless in their pursuit of forcing women to do things against their will; their destructive creativity knew no bounds.

But Shinobu also knew that pushing any woman in such a situation could make her clam up, could make her resist help — or even treatment. So, Shinobu resolved to keep quiet for now, but to keep a close eye on Y/N throughout her pregnancy.

Had she known at the time of the Insect Pillar’s concerns, Y/N would have fallen off of Shinobu’s examination table in a fit of hysterics. The idea that Sanemi, Mr. Made-Madea-Piss-Himself-for-Harassing-a-Young-Slayer, would ever do anything she hadn’t wanted him to do was laughable — as if he didn’t have her begging and pleading for him to do more to her every night.

But Y/N didn’t know, and so she left the Butterfly Mansion without another word. Shinobu sent off her crow to the Master with the Lunar Pillar’s news, pulling Aoi aside to instruct her to monitor the pregnant woman throughout the upcoming months for anything amiss — bruises, unexplained injuries, general skittishness — and to report it immediately to her.

Shinobu may not have known the circumstances of Y/N’s pregnancy, but she did know she would not let harm come to her or her growing child.

———————

Sanemi had wept like a baby when Y/N told him that night.

The man who looked as though he were stone hewn by the wind itself fell to his knees and cried like Y/N had never seen before. He pressed his forehead against the flat expanse of her stomach, raining soft kisses across her abdomen as he held his love close.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he whispered, between the pressing of his lips against her skin while she ran her fingers through his windswept hair, “Thank you for this gift.”

After Sanemi wiped his eyes, he made sure to spend the rest of the night showing Y/N exactly how grateful he was, though with a newfound gentleness. Sanemi typically took her roughly in a way that had Y/N’s eyes rolling back into her head, begging desperately for more. That night, however, he had treated her with such softness and love that it nearly shattered her heart. He had spent the entirety of the night holding her tightly against him, her name falling like a prayer from his lips while he gently rocked into her, whispering how beautiful she was and would look as she grew his child.

The next morning was not as beautiful.

“You’re retiring.” He said sternly as he poured her tea first, then his.

“No, I’m not,” Y/N retorted evenly, “Kocho said I could take low-risk missions until my next appointment with her, and that she would reassess her recommendation then.”

Sanemi stopped pouring his tea, setting the pot down a touch too hard. “Y/N. The first few months of pregnancy are when the mother is the most at risk for losing the child. I will not have you putting yourself in situations where that is a very real possibility.” He reached for her hand, closed in a fist on the table. “I…” he struggled to find his words. “I watched my mother… lose a few pregnancies at the hands of my father,” he spat the last word, but when he looked up at her, his eyes were tender; pleading. “I do not want to see you suffer through the pain that she did.”

Y/N softened at that revelation. She had known about Sanemi’s painful childhood, but the news about his mother’s lost pregnancies was new.

But this was different. She was a Hashira, not a housewife.

“This is… our thing, right now, isn’t it?” Y/N asked lightly, holding her steaming cup of jasmine tea between her hands, relishing in its comforting warmth. Sanemi said nothing but nodded, as he waited for her to continue.

“I’m not ready to share us with the world just yet."

Sanemi’s lips tightened, and his eyes fell to the floor. “Are you…unhappy with this news? He asked quietly. “Do you… feel ashamed… of…” His voice trailed off, but Y/N heard what he was asking all the same.

Ashamed of me?

Y/N’s head snapped up, and within a flash she was on her knees before him, clasping his large hand between her smaller ones. Sanemi kept his eyes resolutely on the floor rather than meet her piercing gaze, and Y/N tightened her grip.

“I need you to look at me when I tell you this,” she tugged lightly on his hand. Slowly, his eyes lifted from the floor and rested on her face, and Y/N’s heart clenched at the softness she saw reflected in his lilac gaze.

“I love you.” Y/N said simply, a small smile tugging on the corner of her pretty mouth. “I love you and I love our child. I thank the stars every day for you.” Sanemi’s breath caught in his chest at her words, and his hand returned her squeeze.

“But as you said, the first few months of pregnancy are difficult. I don’t want this news out before we’re ready to share it, especially in case of,-“ Y/N shut her eyes briefly, trying to shake away the encroaching panic she felt at the idea of losing the child growing in her womb. “In case something happens.” She managed.

“But if I retire now, there will be questions that I’m not ready to answer.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes, feeling slightly guilty about the show she was about to put on. “But I need you to trust Shinobu’s medical opinion on this. To trust me.” Y/N pleaded, bringing his callused hand to her lips, brushing soft kisses over his scarred knuckles. “I need you to trust that I know my limits.”

Sanemi Shinazugawa would never admit it, but he was a sucker for Y/N’s pretty face. A bat of her eyelashes and a nuzzle of her face into his hand brought him to his knees in an instant.

“No dangerous missions. Minor demons only. Cleanup. That’s it.” Sanemi proposed, his voice gruff.

Y/N knew, of course, that Sanemi would still find a way to shadow her whenever she would be sent on a mission close enough to his location, and to be honest, she couldn’t blame him. After all, it was his child she carried. But he was willing to compromise — to try — for her.

So Y/N smiled. “Deal.”

———————————-

Pregnancy had generally been uneventful.

Shinobu had insisted at the start of Y/N’s second trimester that she abstain from future slaying missions (much to her chagrin and Sanemi’s joy), but she encouraged Y/N to continue training under the supervision of the girls at the Butterfly Mansion in order to maintain her abilities.

Of course, once missions were off the table, Y/N knew she had to come clean to the other Hashira.

Almost clean.

She had told them the essentials — she was with child and she was keeping it. Y/N and Sanemi had already agreed not to share that he was the child’s father, again out of concern that once the child had been delivered, the two would never again be permitted to share missions together.

To the other Pillars’ credit, no one pushed her for paternity details. Y/N suspected that Shinobu had shared her hypothesis with them, that the father at best was uninvolved, at worst, might attempt to do harm to her if he knew.

Sanemi said nothing in his own defense, and even talked Y/N down from screaming at the lot of them on his behalf. He informed her that as a result of Shinobu, the other Hashira had formed a little pact to protect both Y/N and her (their) unborn child at all costs.

Sanemi found great relief in this, given that he was still being sent on missions. The promise among the other Pillars meant someone was watching over Y/N at all times, should she ever need assistance. And, because he had also agreed to partake in this pact, Sanemi was guaranteed alone time with Y/N at her estate, without the added pressure of sneaking around the other Pillars. Thus, he had been content to sit back and keep the knowledge that she carried his child close to his chest.

And Sanemi had been so attentive to Y/N throughout the months of her pregnancy. He constantly worried about her comfort and sought to make pregnancy as easy as possible. He awoke at all hours of the night to fix something that would satisfy her insane cravings. He would arrive home from missions and kiss her so sweetly, Y/N thought her heart would burst, before pressing his ear against the growing swell of her belly to listen to his child’s small heartbeat and lavish Y/N with kisses and soft praises. In the later months of her pregnancy, he would be sure to rotate Y/N’s sleeping form throughout the night to ensure she wouldn’t wake up in pain or discomfort.

And throughout it all, he maintained his passionate physical love for her, though more gently so as not to risk hurting Y/N or their child. But he worshipped her body with such fervor that it often reduced Y/N to tears.

When Sanemi was away, the other Hashira took turns keeping Y/N company, and each Pillar took on a special role for her. Uzui and his wives showered her with new clothes, fitted to accommodate her growing belly, and the wives lauded her with compliments. Mitsuri had become her meal-time buddy, the two of them nearly eating their way through the entire pantry stock of both their mansions in a single evening.

And so, pregnancy itself, had been easy.

Labor, when it arrived, was an entirely different matter.

Labor hurt.

Y/N had known something was wrong the moment her water had burst, having barely registered the wetness that slipped down her legs due to the agony that followed, leaving Y/N feeling as though she was being ripped open from the inside.

Y/N’s ears rang with a scream she had not realized was her own until she felt her throat burn. Her knees buckled, and she would have hit the ground had Uzui and Rengoku not materialized out of thin air, having noticed her from across the courtyard outside of her estate. The pair stood on either side, working to catch her before her knees could bite into the rocks below.

“We need to get her to Kocho, right away,” Uzui said to Rengoku. “I can run ahead and let the Butterfly Mansion know we’re coming. Can you get her there?” The Sound Hashira asked Rengoku, who nodded.

“Come, Y/L/N, I’ll take care of you,” Rengoku said warmly, lifting her up into his arms before taking off at a break-neck speed. Y/N clutched the front of his robes, hissing as another wave of excruciating pain washed through her.

“Sorry- ah— Rengoku, I might tear your uniform.” Y/N said through gritted teeth, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead.

Regoku’s deep laugh rumbled from his chest. “No worries, Y/L/N! I have plenty of uniforms. He glanced down at his friend, a comforting smile tugging on his lips, “You do what you need to do to help manage the pain.” He added kindly.

Y/N held onto the Flame Pillar’s robes for dear life, as she tried to keep herself from crying out, head falling against her friend’s chest. Above them, a raven circled once, twice, before heading east, its wings beating frantically.

The Butterfly Mansion had just come into sight when the unmistakable scent of iron hit Y/N’s nose. She tried to sit up in Rengoku’s arms to look over the large swell of her stomach, panic beginning to spread through her chest. Before she could confirm the source of the smell, Y/N collapsed back into Rengoku’s arms.

“Is-is that-?” Y/N trembled, her voice unusually high.

Rengoku’s nostrils flared slightly as he too, took notice of the scent. He only had to tilt his head slightly to the side to see below Y/N’s pregnant belly, his expression grim.

“Kyojuro,” Y/N whimpered, her grip on the front of his uniform slackening.

Rengoku turned his gaze back to Y/N’s, his expression soft and comforting as a kind smile chased away whatever shadow had been there.

“You are doing so well, Y/L/N! Truly! You will deliver this child in no time.” He said warmly, the hand holding her against him squeezing reassuringly.

Y/N may have been in blinding pain, but she did not fail to notice how the Flame Pillar clutched her tighter to him, his pace quickening as he sped towards the Butterfly Mansion.

Rengoku had all but leapt the last length of their journey, swiftly landing at the entrance to Kocho’s residence. The Insect Pillar was already waiting outside for them, alongside Uzui and a small team of Butterfly Mansion girls who were prepared to open doors and clear hallways for them.

“Come with me,” Shinobu ordered the moment Rengoku’s feet touched the ground, her eyes scanning over Y/N’s ashen face. Shinobu’s gaze snagged at the bloodstain spreading across the lower middle of the light cotton kimono Y/N wore.

Wordlessly, the small group of Hashira swept through the halls of the Butterfly House, escorted by Shinobu’s staff. The Insect Pillar drew up short outside of a small room in the back of the main hallway, urgently motioning Rengoku through the doorway.

“Uzui, grab Y/N’s legs. Rengoku, move your arms to support under her ribs,” Shinobu ordered the two men as she dunked her hands in a bucket of cold, soapy water, quickly scrubbing at her skin. “You both need to work together to lower her onto the birthing bed.” Shinobu pointedly looked to the small, white futon that lay in the middle of the wooden floor, its blankets already pulled back in anticipation of the pregnant woman now panting in Rengoku’s arms.

The pain in her lower belly was unbearable, and Y/N could not stop herself from crying out as she felt the two male Pillars gently readjust her so they could lower her as Shinobu ordered. Hot tears clung to her eyelashes as she gasped out, breathing becoming difficult through the haze of the pain.

Shinobu, having finished cleaning her hands, moved to kneel at Y/N’s feet. The Insect Pillar adjusted the futon’s cotton blanket to cover Y/N from the waist-down before gently spreading her legs and propping them up on either side of her.

“Y/N,” Shinobu said firmly, rolling up the bottom of the futon blanket to Y/N’s knees so she could examine her friend. “Y/N, you need to get your breathing under control. Your distress is affecting your body’s ability to heal, and it will harm the child.”

Y/N whimpered, a tear rolling down her cheek. Eyes closing, Y/N took a shuddering breath, willing her heart to slow its wild thumping in her chest and her body to relax. She managed for all of two breaths before another wave of pain rocked through her, causing her to cry out.

“Dammit,” Shinobu swore, as a fresh wave of blood spilled from between Y/N’s legs, staining her trembling thighs crimson. Both Uzui and Rengoku stood back behind Y/N’s head, their eyes wide as the smell of blood hit them.

Shinobu wracked her brain, trying to think of something, anything, that would help her friend calm down enough to get her breathing under control, to get her body to stop fighting her labor.

“Y/N, does the father know? Does he know the child is coming?” Shinobu blurted, as she tried to wipe away the blood that was rapidly pooling beneath Y/N’s center.

It had taken a moment for Shinobu’s words to fully register in Y/N’s mind. Her heart stuttered as she remembered that Sanemi was on a mission, at least half a day’s journey from the Butterfly Mansion.

Y/N’s eyes filled with fresh tears not from the endless pain, but from the realization that Sanemi might not make it here in time, might not make it before she…

“He’s t-too far.” Y/N half-sobbed, back bowing off the futon as her body seized with the strain of labor, her eyes squeezing shut as she tried to breathe through the contraction.

Uzui stepped forward from his spot against the back wall. “Nothing is too far for me, Y/N” he said gently, “tell me where he is, and I can get him here in a flash.”

Shinobu nodded, patting Y/N’s knee comfortingly. “Where is he, Y/N? Does he live in a village nearby?”

Y/N shook her head furiously, her mouth opening to respond, but only a choked sob came out.

Shinobu pressed. “Y/N, you must tell Uzui his name, or else he won’t be able to bring him back.” Shinobu motioned for one of the Butterfly Mansion’s young girls to bring over a damp towel to dab at Y/N’s burning forehead. 

“Who is the child’s father, Y/N?” Shinobu repeated.

“It’s — fuck,” she hissed, her stomach feeling as if it were about to split open. “S-SANEMI.” She called out, body curling off the futon before collapsing against it once more, feeling exhaustion settling in over her bones, threatening to take over her consciousness.

The room was silent — dead silent — for a moment. Shinobu looked up to the two Male Pillars, her jaw slackened and her eyes wide, her shock mirroring that of both her comrades.

It had taken each Pillar another moment to re-correct themselves. Shinobu locked eyes with Aoi, a similar stunned look on her face, and silently ordered her to take up her position at Y/N’s feet. Once Aoi had knelt, Shinobu rose, and the other two Hashira swiftly exited the room, the former pulling the door to the birthing room behind her shut.

“No fucking way Shinazugawa is the father,” Uzui had hissed the moment the birthing room door had latched, his magenta eyes wild. “I can’t believe someone like Y/N would willingly have a child with that snarky little bitch.”

“You are not suggesting that Shinazugawa may have forced himself on Y/N, are you Tengen?” Rengoku asked quietly.

Uzui shook his head, scoffing slightly. “No. But I do think it's weird that she kept it a secret until the last possible second,” Uzui ran a hand through his hair, anxiously. “And he never said a damn word about it either. Maybe something happened that shouldn’t have. Maybe he feels ashamed.”

Rengoku eyed Shinobu, whose mouth had been pulled into a deep frown, her eyes fixed on the wall behind the Sound Pillar in deep thought. “Kocho? What should we do?” 

Shinobu also did not believe Shinazugawa would ever force himself upon a woman, but she could not deny the unease she felt at the revelation that Y/N had concealed the identity of the child’s father. “Go get Shinazugawa, Rengoku.” She said softly, “Uzui, you stay here. Shinazugawa is fast enough on his own. I want you here to guard the door.”

Rengoku looked quizzically at his tiny friend, but she said nothing more and so he hid the pair farewell and took off into the night.

“Guard?” Uzui asked, puzzled.

Shinobu pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closing as a dull ache bloomed through her skull. “Unless and until Y/N asks for him, I want him kept out. I don’t imagine he would be a very calming presence.” Shinobu grimaced. “Frankly, I don’t have the patience to handle him right now. I need to keep her calm.”

Uzui nodded, moving only to send a crow for the Water Hashira to come assist. He leaned casually against the frame of the door once Shinobu had closed it back behind her, shaking his head lightly. Really, Y/N? He chastised, internally, Shinazugawa?

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Keep an eye out for Part 2 if you want to see Sanemi be both feral and the softest boy.

[haetrack]

spur of the moment (ldh) | pt. 2

please read part 1 before reading to better understand the story!

haechan x afab!reader

wc: 10k (...)

warnings: MDNI, fluff and (mostly) smut, dirty thoughts, inexperienced!haechan, a first hangout, reader finds fleshlight, handjob, handjob with a fleshlight, mention of a dildo, ruined orgasm, slight nipple play, dirty talk, they are both very shameless and perverts, fingering, unprotected sex (NOOO!!!), no clear dynamics but they both talk so much, they like it a lot

a/n: happy new years everyone! first fic of the year will be part two! thank u all so much for the support on the first part! i enjoyed writing this and i hope u guys like it as much as i do… please let me know what u guys think!!

the next day, haechan debates on whether or not he wants to go to class.

it doesn’t help that you came out in his dream, squirming under him and asking to be filled up by his cock. it’s nothing he hasn’t experienced (he’s not a pervert, he swears), but after last night, it all feels new to him. the thought of being so close to you and not being able to do anything about it makes him feel a little crazy. then again, he can always just ask you to hang out.

it’s really not that easy, he thinks. you’re kinda way out of his league and he wonders if you even remember his name. you seem to talk to a select few in your shared class, which makes haechan wonder why you chose to talk to him that specific morning. it wasn’t serious or anything, but he wishes he would have seemed a little cooler. curse his only-shy-on-first-meetings self.

today is slightly different though, when he enters the classroom five minutes before, he doesn’t see you in your normal spot, laptop out and your journal filled with handwritten notes in front of you. he scans the room to realize that you’re not even there. he feels relieved yet disappointed as he takes his seat. he swears that he had enough confidence to talk to you today, but it turns out he won’t be able to live it out.

once he settles with that thought, a minute before the class starts, the door slams open and you rush in. realizing that your seat has been taken by someone else, you look for any empty seats. there’s only one close to the front.

while haechan lazily scrolls through his phone, he realizes someone is rushing down his row, stopping right at the empty seat next to him. he looks up to see you smiling down at him, “can i sit here, haechan?”

his whole body goes rigid, mouth slightly open as he stares at you for a moment too long. you look away at his intense eye contact, to which he notices and quickly motions for you to sit down. you thank him quietly, moving fast to get yourself set up. while you’re setting up, you accidentally bump your arm against his, causing his breath to hitch. you take it as slight annoyance, “sorry haechan!” you send an easy smile towards him, but that only reminds him of last night.

he can’t focus throughout the lecture. you’re sitting right next to him, minding your business, all while dirty thoughts of you and him replay in his mind. he wonders if you would reach over and whisper in his ear, begging to let you touch him during class. the back of his neck feels hot, and he tries to stop the blush that threatens to form on his cheeks. he would rather die than get horny in class.

he takes a few deep breaths, trying to focus on his professor droning on about utilitarianism. he takes a peek over at you scribbling down notes. you have a slight frown on your face coming from how hard you’re focusing on writing down notes. your focus breaks when you feel a pair of eyes on you, and you turn to look at haechan. he immediately turns to typing his notes on his laptop, and you can see how his skin has turned a pretty shade of pink on his cheeks.

you’ve had your eyes on him since you asked him how his morning was. you found it cute how he stuttered when you asked, trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with you. later that night, you tried to search him on instagram, and lo and behold, there he was, a private account with 90 followers to his name. you decided to hold off from talking to him, seeing if he would ever make a move on you.

now that you can visibly see how nervous he is just by you sitting next to him, you know you have to do something about it. you can’t wait until class ends. 

when class ends, haechan tries to see how fast he can make his escape. completely ignoring how he stood in front of his mirror this morning planning what he wanted to say to you, he wonders if he could just slip past you. he shoves his laptop into his backpack and tries to beeline out the door as soon as his professor ends class. 

before he can make it out though, a hand grabs his arm, and he turns to look down at you. a sickly sweet smile adorned on your face as you ask, “what are you going to do after class, haechan?”

it’s as if you could see right through him, his actions from last night plastered on his face as he answers you, “um, i was probably going to go back to my apartment to look over today's notes…” a complete lie, he was going to go back to his apartment to think about his utter failure today. maybe even get off to the thought of you again, how nice it felt to have you so close, how you basically touched him today, how sweet your smile was.

“that’s perfect actually! i wanted to ask if you wanted to go over the lecture together. you seemed a little distracted today,” you let out a small laugh, seeing how different his demeanor was while you were next to him. he wanted to look cool in front of you, but instead you saw how shy he was. he was so loud with his friends, but with new people, especially with someone like you, he couldn’t help being like this.

“yeah, that’s- i can do that with you,” he’s not really looking at you, and when he gets up, he tries not to invade your personal space. you remove your hand from him and he wishes he could grab it back. he wishes he could intertwine his hand with yours and show everyone that you’re his. but for now, he follows you out of class like a lost puppy. 

“i would invite you over to my place,” he stops in his tracks and you look back at him, “but i have a roommate there right now.” he feels a little disappointed. he would’ve liked to see your room, be surrounded by your smell, to have you so close to him. then again, he’s not sure if he’d be able to hold back. as soon as you’d come close to him in your private space, he’d probably get hard on the spot.

he rushes to at least hold open the door for you, and you cock your head to the side and ask, “what about you? would it be okay to go to your place?”

you’re both standing there in the hallway of your class’s building. he thinks about it, he really tries to think of it. theres pros and cons to you being in his apartment. pros: you’d be there, and in the comfort of his own space, he’d feel a bit more confident. cons: you’d be there, he’s not sure how he’d feel about you being in the area where he just fucked a fleshlight thinking of you.

he messes with his fingers and bites the inside of his cheek, thinking about what he should do. he lets out a small breath and quietly says, “you can come over. i live by myself, so we can study there.”

you grin at his words, happy that you were able to persuade him. you’ve seen him talk to his friends, always leading the conversation, always making them laugh. so to see him rendered like this makes you wonder what he’s hiding. you can tell he likes you, but there’s something under his embarrassment, something he would never tell anyone. you'll find out today one way or another.

“did you come walking here? because i did,” you ask.

“no, i get here by car…” his sentence trails off and you give him a questioning look. his mouth opens and closes before he says, “would you like me to drive you?”

you laugh at him, your shoulder bumping into him, making him flinch a little. “i would love that.”

a shy smile appears on his face and you can’t help but smile back at him. he leads you to his car while you try to make small talk with him. you ask how the class has been for him, ask if living alone is nice, ask about his hobbies. he answers in short sentences, frustrated with himself for not being able to match your energy. he knows he can carry conversation, his own friends telling him he needs to learn how to shut up, but he just can’t do it now. he’s too concerned with his own thoughts.

he wonders if people are looking at the two of you heading to the parking lot. he wonders if you both look like a couple, talking like you both have known each other for a long time. haechan knows he wouldn’t normally be seen with someone like you, someone who seems too good for him. if he would tell his friends who he’s with right now, he’s sure that they’d call him a liar.

none of that really matters though, not when you’re walking side by side with him, your comforting personality putting him at ease. he’s sure that as long as he gets more chances to talk to you, he’d be able to comfortably talk to you. he feels good with you here, but it’s hard to ignore the little twinge of guilt at the back of his head. he tries to pretend he wasn’t furiously masturbating to the thought of you the night before, but it’s hard to ignore.

he unlocks his car and invites you in, and you happily call shotgun even if no one else is around. even though he’s nervous, he tries to start the conversation first, “you can put on music if you want, it’s not too far of a drive anyways.” 

“i think i’m good, i’d rather talk to you more than anything,” you say with a sly smile. he feels a small blush form on his face. he can tell you notice it too when you chuckle at him, he covers his face with his hands. while you’re laughing at him, you put your hand down on his thigh. he immediately sits straight up, probably- no, definitely, red all over. he starts the car as fast as he can to try to stop thinking about how warm your hand was on his thigh.

it’s only twenty minutes, he thinks, twenty minutes of being trapped in a small space with you. you just touched him, and now it feels hard for him to breathe in his own car. the thought of fucking you in the backseat of his car creeps into his mind, and he feels relieved that you can’t secretly read his mind. you would both rush to the back, your hot touch all over as you fervently grind down onto him.

he can feel his dick begin stirring in his sweats, and he remembers you are quite literally sitting right there next to him. he’s scared to look at you, scared you’ve found out that he’s kind of a freak when it comes to you. but when he looks, he’s greeted by the simple sight of you staring out the window, your cheek resting on your hand. it puts him at ease, makes him want to reach over to your other hand and hold onto it.

he realizes he likes seeing this version of you. you look so calm, free from the stress of lecture, relaxed by the view of the pretty scenery around you. he smiles at you, admiring you from afar, despite the close distance you two share. he lets go of the breath he was holding, wills his away semi-hardon, and clears his throat. “can i ask why you wanted to talk to me today?”

“i’m not really sure either,” you answer honestly, “i’ve talked to a few people in class but none of them interest me as much as you do.” haechan isn't really sure what you mean yet, so he waits for you to continue. before you do though, you move out of the position you’ve been in, arms stretching in front of you. what seems so innocent deems quite differently for haechan. he sees how your boobs are pushed together, a small moan slipping out of your lips. he has to look away for a moment.

“i think it has to do with the fact that i know how much you stare at me.” you answer, shifting your body to face him.

he immediately spills out apologies, “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable! you just happen to sit in front of me so- i didn't-”

it’s your turn to apologize, “no! i didn’t say i didn’t like it,” his head whips to look at you for a moment, “it’s just, you never came up to me, never said hi, just stared.” he feels his face heat up, realizing he wasn’t as discreet as he thought he was. all the time he spent daydreaming about you in class never went unnoticed, he simply was too lost in his fantasies to realize you were staring right back. “i always wondered what you were thinking, for a second i even thought you hated me.”

he shakes his head, one that feels like it’s saying that he could never hate you. “what’s your major?” he questions.

“psychology.” you smirk and he immediately nods, knowing fully well you can probably read him like an open book. you laugh hard at this, and haechan realizes how much he likes hearing you laugh, hearing how you’re laughing at his jokes. he realizes he’s getting in too deep when he doesn’t just have these sexual thoughts about you, but also thoughts of just being around you feel like they’re enough.

“we’re almost there, just a few more minutes,” haechan says, and he kind of wants you both to stay like this in the comfort of his car. he’s used to it now, talking to you in this small bubble. he feels a little less shy, a little more like the man he thought he was last night.

“that’s good,” a yawn cuts you off, “i was getting a little tired of being in here.”

“getting bored of me that fast?” he teases, happy with how he’s opening up.

you softly laugh, “no, it’s just that i fell asleep kinda late last night. kept thinking about this essay i don’t know how to start.”

he hums at that, “no, i get it. i was up late last night, too.” and as soon as he says it, he regrets it. there’s a small chance you might ask him what he was doing, but there’s also a big chance you might just agree and move on. he hopes, he prays that you could just talk about that essay-

“what were you up to so late?” you ask, no harm behind your words.

he feels hot at the back of his neck, his grip tightens on the wheel as he tries to come up with an answer. well, he knows what the answer is, fucking a fleshlight to the thought of you, but he can’t exactly say that. “well- there was- no, still is-” he takes a breath before speaking again, “there’s a special event for this game i play online. i was stuck at my desk all day,” he nervously laughs, trying to deflect his own thoughts. 

you brush past his words, seemingly convinced, “you’ll have to teach me how to play sometime.”

he nods, smiling due to the image in his head. buying another gaming chair, seated right next to you as you clumsily press down on the keys on his keyboard. he’ll groan in frustration with you when you die, he’ll laugh when you absolutely miss a shot, he'll celebrate your first win. he’ll plant a messy kiss to your cheek as you thank him for teaching you. he’ll do it all.

he lets you know which is his apartment complex, “it’s not anything crazy, but it’s done what it needs to do.”

“i’m sure it’s fine, probably better than how my roommate leaves the apartment looking,” you joke, and he wonders if you’d say yes if he asked you to move in one day. of course, he knows this is literally the first day he's talked to you, but he can’t keep these feelings from floating around in his head. 

he parks his car and you both head inside. it’s relatively silent, save for the small gasp you let out at how the inside looks nice. once you make it to the elevator, he presses the seventh floor button. he didn’t really think about it before, but he realizes how nice you smell. if you were already dating, he’d hold you in a backhug, pressing his nose to your neck, inhaling your scent as the elevator rolls up. but for now, all he can do is rock back and forth on his heels as he waits for the elevator doors to open, freeing his mind from your scent.

you both safely make it to his apartment and he fishes out his keys from his jacket pocket. he unlocks the door, holding it open for you as you thank him and step inside. he flicks on the light switch and you stand there, taking in his apartment.

it’s simple enough for a man in college. it reflects how you see him, and you can’t help the grin that forms on your face, “this is just like you, haechan.”

he’s a little nervous, hands slightly sweaty seeing you in his apartment, “good or bad?”

“good! it also smells nice in here.”

your comment surprises him a little. he doesn’t really use any candles or sprays, which sounds gross, but he also doesn’t leave his place messy. he doesn’t like artificial scents, too much for his nose and gives him small headaches. as far as he’s concerned, what you’re smelling is purely him. this realization makes his heart beat a little faster, the back of his neck becoming hot.

“thank you,” a genuine smile crosses his face, and you beam back at him, “you can put your stuff here, we can study here in the living room.” 

you move to sit in front of the small coffee table next to his couch. you look nice in his place, like you’ve always been there. you unload your items, looking up to him and patting the spot right next to you. “i’m gonna go to my room really quick, i just need to check on something.”

you playfully tell him to hurry and he salutes you, trotting to his room. he quietly locks the door and assesses the state of his room. it’s not horribly messy, so he leaves it be. his conscious tells him to go to the restroom and freshen up a little. he looks at himself in the mirror, his face reflecting back at him. he remembers last night, in this exact spot, wishing you were there with him as he got off to you. except now, you’re here, and he feels a little guilty.

he moves to wash his hands and splatters some water in his face. he huffs, then messes with his hair, trying to make it look a little better for you. when he feels ready, he walks out of the restroom, and takes one last peek into his room. though he was begging for your touch last night, he’s content just with your presence here, happy that you decided on your own that you wanted to be here with him. 

when haechan meets you back in his living room, it feels natural. he softly calls out your name and you turn around, a smile already plastered on your face. he smiles back, moving to the spot right next to you. it’s nerve wracking being so close to you, but for your sake, he pushes his nerves back as far as he can. 

for the next hour, you both sit there talking about what was discussed during the lecture. it turns out he did in fact miss quite a lot of notes, having to sheepishly copy down the ones you’ve written. you lightly scold him for not paying attention, and he can’t help let his mind wander to how you might scold him during sex.

he also can’t help but just be a little distracted. nodding along to your words while his eyes trail down to your lips. how your thigh is pressed snugly against his. how your hands brush over his while you explain your notes to him. he’s not sure if you’re doing this on purpose, but his deprived mind can’t help but hope. haechan is enamored with you, he wishes he could kiss you right here, pull you onto his lap and just enjoy how close you are to him.

after a few more minutes, you stretch just as you did in the car, which makes haechan clear his throat. “fifteen minute break, haechan,” you remind him while fighting back a yawn.

“do you want anything to eat or drink? i just realized i never even offered you anything when you came in,” haechan frowns, causing you to giggle from your end. you stand up from your place and stretch your arms up, causing the bottom of your top to ride up, exposing your midriff. his breath gets caught in his throat as he just stares, all the way until your soft skin is hidden once more.

“i think i’m good for now,” the way you’re looking at him makes him feel like he was caught staring, “but maybe just the restroom?”

“yeah, um, it’s connected to my bedroom so i’ll just… show you the way.” his hands are getting sweaty again. he tries to hide how guilty he feels, and if you were to put your palm to his cheek, you would feel how warm he was.

he leads you to his bedroom while you trail behind him. you smile to yourself with how nice he’s being with all this, showing you how much he likes you. you’re about to see his room, something that could be considered private for a lot of people. you put your focus back to him, staring at how broad he looks from the back. if only he could turn around and see how badly you want him too.

he opens the door for you, and you gasp out in amazement, pulling a shy giggle out of haechan. you don’t miss how shaky his hand is when he reaches for the door handle, “the restroom is over here, i can wait back in the living room if you’d like.”

“no, it’s fine! wait for me out here so you can give me a room tour when i’m done,” you say before closing the door. as soon as it’s closed, he starts freaking out. he’s room looks fine, but it just… doesn’t feel fine? he’s so scared that there might be something out of place, even if he knows it looks fine. he calms himself down and moves to sit down on his gaming chair. while he waits for you, he practices what he wants to say while giving you a mini tour of his room.

once you come out, you spot him lounging on his chair. he looks so good when he’s in his natural state, different from the haechan you’re used to seeing in class. when he meets your eyes, he looks a little nervous, but puts on a more confident demeanor.

“are you ready for this?” he asks, and you nod excitedly at his words, “so there’s my bed, my gaming setup, closet, dresser, and tv. boom. done.”

you laugh hard at him, “there’s no way!”

he’s laughing alongside next you, body leaning into you without even knowing, “i did what you asked! it’s not my fault i’m a simple man with simple needs.” 

“so like, no explanation or anything? just an ‘i live here’ kinda vibe?” 

“exactly, this is pure vibes. nothing more and nothing less.” your body presses against his side while you’re laughing, and he just lets it happen. he’s glad that he’s beginning to be more comfortable around you. he lets you walk around a bit, let’s you hover over his desk, too scared to touch anything on it. 

“show me the game you were talking about! i can’t believe you let me take away some of your precious gaming time by coming over.” you say, motioning for him to sit down on his chair again.

he obliges, sitting down on his chair and turns on his computer. “i’d only do that for special occasions, so… i had to do it this time, too.” he doesn’t look at you when he says it, but you can tell he’s embarrassed by his own words, his ears turning red.

once the game boots up, he lets you know about the basics of overwatch and its seasonal events. he swears that he’s good at the game and that you would end up a pro player if you let him teach you. even though he’s explaining all this to you, you don’t really get all the terms he’s saying. you’re just happy that he’s letting you in on his hobbies. 

while he’s going through the tutorial for you, your attention turns back to his room. it feels like him, very simple decoration and a gray-scale color scheme fill his room. you can tell he spends most of his time at his desk, more decorated and colorful than any other part of his room. when you scan his room one last time, you spot a picture frame on his nightstand. you quietly slip away from his lecturing of the game.

haechan doesn’t realize it, but at some point, you moved away from him. it isn’t until he hears a loud woah! and a small thump, to which he turns around and spots you by his bed, holding onto the edge of it to hold your balance. he feels his heart thump in his chest, you being too close to his bed for comfort.

“you okay?” haechan asks, trying to hide how shaky his voice is.

“i’m good, just tripped on something trying to see what was on your nightstand.” and while you're crouched on the floor trying to calm yourself, you see what you tripped on. a corner of a box. you didn’t mean to intrude, but you subconsciously pull it out from under his bed. inside it contained something you never thought you would see. you stand back up, still looking down at the content of the box. 

something doesn’t feel right to haechan. you’re staring down still, a shocked look all over your face. this doesn’t feel right at all. he haphazardly stands up, not sure if he should move towards you or not. “what’s wrong?”

“haechan…” you say his name, your voice coming out a lot quieter and breathier than you mean it to.

he takes a step forward before he sees you reach down, your back now towards him. he says your name quietly and your face turns towards him. “haechan… can i ask you what this is?”

you’re holding his fleshlight. his fleshlight. the fleshlight he quite literally used to cum with last night to the thought of you. he feels dizzy, suddenly unable to breathe. how did you even find that? he swears he hid it back under his bed last night. are you going to hate him? will you think he’s the most disgusting person on the planet?

his thoughts are silenced by your voice, “do you use it, haechan?” you fully face him now, your face devoid of any emotion.

“i don’t- i don’t know what…” he could cry, really. he’s shaking, too scared to form a proper sentence. this feels like the ultimate karma, the person of his desire finding out his secret. you don’t even know what he’s done to it, you don’t know he fucked it with the thought of you in his mind. you creep closer to him, until he falls back into his chair to move away from you. 

you move to stand in front of him, looking down at how he cowers under you. “did it feel good, haechan?” 

“w-what?” his voice is light, breath too heavy. 

“did it feel good fucking it, haechan?” you slowly lower yourself onto his thighs, and he goes rigid under you. he’s not sure how to feel right now, he’s scared but you’re sitting on top of him, waiting patiently for his answer. you know you won’t get it like this though, not when he’s frozen with you on top of him.

“tell me you don’t want this and i’ll stop,” your eyes scan his face for any hesitation, and he stares back at you with a dazed look in his eyes. before you know it, he lurches forward and closes the space between you with a kiss. he tries to deepen it, but before any of this can escalate, you say, “not like this, tell me with your words how much you want this.”

“want this,” he tries to lean forward again but you stop him, “want this so bad- want you so bad.” 

you smile, “good answer.”

you lean forward to kiss him, and he feels how close you are to sitting on top of his bulge. he realizes that this is very real, and instead of just fantasizing about it, he can pull you closer, let your warmth sit right on top of his dick as he kisses you. he uses this opportunity to deepen it. he tilts his head a bit more, tongue tracing the inside of your mouth. it’s a bit messy, but you can’t help but like that about haechan.

you’re quick to let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth, his shy demeanor taken over by his desperation. all while this is happening, he begins to move your hips for you, rocking you slowly back and forth onto his dick. a small groan leaves his mouth for the first time today, and you smile sweetly into the kiss. your hands also begin to move, one moving to the side of his neck and the other moving up to his hair.

you can tell he’s running out of breath pretty fast, and when you feel him move away to breathe, you tug lightly onto his hair. what you get is a breathy whine and his hips rutting up into yours. you gasp in surprise, and haechan loves the sound too much to where he excitedly tries to kiss you again. he misses, kissing the corner of your mouth as you giggle at him. he’s not even embarrassed, whatever you enjoy, he’ll like too.

a few minutes pass like this and his hands are still around your hips. they squeeze and push you around, but he doesn’t move them from that spot. you take your hands to the tops of his and move them up so that they’re under your shirt. he pulls his mouth away from you to stare back at you, wordlessly asking if he can touch some more. you nod, and you move to pull off your shirt.

he stares. he’s not shy with it, either. his eyes are fixated on the curves of your body, your chest that's covered by the bra you’re wearing. you’re really everything he dreamt of and more, he thinks. he has no control of his body anymore, so when he moves to settle in the crook of your neck while his hands try to touch as much of you as possible, he doesn’t try to stop it. 

he inhales your scent sharply, presses his nose down onto your neck in order to savor how good you smell. his hands continue moving before they stop underneath the cup of your bra. you whisper for him to take it off, his shaky hands moving to your back. he’s a little confused with how it works, never once having to take it off himself. he keeps trying though, and you think his persistence is cute.

your hands move to your back to help him out, unclasping your bra and letting it slowly slide off of you. haechan takes this in, drinking up the sight of your bare chest. his hands rest at your sides, his body turning against him at the sight of your skin. you laugh at him before pressing a kiss to the pulse point on his wrist, encouraging him to continue. he does, he lets all the pent up frustration from your boobs take over, placing his hands over them, groping lightly.

you arch your back into his touch, moaning out his name. he looks up at you, gauging your reaction when he rolls your nipples in his fingers. he feels you grind down hard onto him, hands moving up onto his biceps and nails digging in. it hurts him a little, but it blends into a light pleasure. you look a mess on top of him, moaning into his ear how good it feels. he’s panting lightly, you being almost too overwhelming for him to handle.

he realizes the dull pain from your nails on his biceps is gone, and his feels your cold fingertips trail under his shirt. his stomach twitches at the feeling, his movement on your chest halting for just a moment. he continues though, moaning out a, “keep touching me. like it so much.”

so you continue. your hands touch over the soft skin of his stomach, feeling the light hairs trailing down to his cock. you feel his pretty waist, having a small grip on it to help placate you. your hands move up to his chest, and you look up at him with puppy eyes, asking if you could slide it off. he nods quickly and removes his shirt for you, letting you have free access to do whatever you want. 

you moan out softly at the sight of his pretty skin. he continues his ministrations on you, and you just stare at his body. you’re almost tempted to just fall completely on him, letting him do whatever he’d want with you. but you still have half a mind, and you look back to his chest. you run your nails along the expanse of the newly exposed skin, his muscles twitching under the feeling. your hands move back up, and the urge to hear him whimper is too high.

haechan thinks he’s on cloud 9 right now, happily rocking into you and touching your chest like he always imagined he would. it’s not until he feels a pinch to his nipples that he lets out a loud whimper followed by your name, hips roughly bucking up into you. you stare at him, getting the exact reaction that you wanted. his arms move to cover his face, and he lets out a weak more, please, much to your excitement. 

your fingers move back to his nipples and he realizes how much he loves this. he’s never done this to himself, nor did it happen the one time he had sex. he lets you work on him, he can tell how much you’re enjoying his reactions. choked back moans and high-pitched whimpers fill the air, his hips mindlessly rutting up into you. he just lets you do whatever you want, and the thought of this fills you with excitement. 

you can feel how hard he is under you. he humps slowly onto you, letting you feel every inch of his cock. it feels good, and if it weren’t for how concentrated you were on his chest, you would’ve already been begging for him to fuck you. the thing is, you can begin to feel him twitch under you. you can tell he’s close, moans of your name and him asking you to continue is all you can hear. you begin rolling your hips onto him again, adding more stimulation on more parts of his body. 

his hands move over to grip your ass, grinding you quickly down on him. he’s moaning straight to your ear, incoherent sentences mumbled out, and as much as you want to cum like this, there’s something else you’d like to do. you let him get close to cumming, you let him dig his blunt nails into you, you let him whimper your name into your ear. right when he’s about to cum, you pull away from him completely. 

“do you trust me?” you ask, pretty smile planted on your face.

haechan can barely hear you, his orgasm being ripped away from him. in one moment, he had your warm body all over him, and in another, it was all taken away. his ears are slightly ringing and his dick is twitch heavily in his sweats, his body aching to be with yours again.

you can tell he didn’t hear what you said, so you put your finger under his chin to make him look straight at you. you repeat your question and he agrees quickly, desperation clearly taken over. you sit on the corner of his bed, asking him to come and sit with you. when he does, laying on his back while sitting up on his elbows, you position yourself to where you’re laying between both of his legs. he looks down at you expectantly, eyes filled with lust and a twinge of love.

you smile sweetly, and you pull out what you were hiding behind your back. his fleshlight.

he groans, almost telling you to put it away in embarrassment. it’s cute that he’s rendered like this because of a toy. you shush him, calming his nerves. “i just wanna make you feel good,” your hand trails up his thigh, dangerously close to his hard cock, “you said you trust me, right?”

seeing you like this, like he’s seen in all his fantasizing and dreaming, he can’t say no to you. not when you’re looking at him so nicely, a soft pout formed on your lips. he wants to reach down and kiss you, but his curiosity wins. what are you going to do?

his question is answered when you rub your hand over his clothed dick, earning you a soft whimper. you know he’s worked up, no use in continuing teasing him when he’s probably on the verge of cumming. you ask if you can take his sweats off, and he immediately moves to take them off for you. he leaves his boxers on, and you can see how hard he is and how he strains against them. you can’t stop the smirk that forms on your face.

he’s breathing heavily and all you’ve done so far are some light touches. he can feel himself leaking when he takes off his sweats, and when he looks down, there’s an embarrassing wet patch of precum on the front of his boxers. he’s thankful you don’t comment on it, but what he doesn’t expect is for you to lean forward and lick at the patch. he moans out, your tongue pushing the fabric roughly against his tip. 

your hand moves to grip his base all while you begin to suckle on his tip. the stimulation is too much, too suddenly, and he bucks his hips into your face. you smile up at him, your eyes seemingly calling him cute. as much as he wants to shove his cock in your mouth already, he lets you take your time, relishing in how long he’s wanted you like this. you can have him for as long as you want, he thinks, he has all the time in the world with you now.

you eventually pull off his boxers, but you move a bit away from him. he gives you a confused look, but your smile puts all his worries away. he’s given you all his trust, letting you do what you want freely. he only freaks out a little when you pull out his fleshlight, a small smile forming on your face when you say, “gonna ask you some questions, i’ll help you feel good if you answer me.”

he nods slowly, and you reach down and squeeze him one last time. before you start, you ask if there’s any lube and he quickly reaches into his nightstand’s drawer to hand it to you. you have to hide back your laugh at how desperate he is as you squeeze lube into the fleshlight. he looks nervous, but it all fades away when you slide the slick fleshlight over his cock.

his tip is at the entrance of the toy when you ask, “why do you have this?”

“d-didn’t buy it. my friend bought it for me on my birthday…”

“your friend must’ve known you were a pervert, hm?” you say as you push the toy slowly down on his length, eliciting a long groan out of him. letting him sit with the feeling.

you ask another question, “you use it, right?” and before he can deny the claim, you interrupt him, “do you think about me when you do?”

the blush on his face darkens and trails down to his neck. his eyes shut, too embarrassed to answer the question that’s already apparent. to his surprise, you begin to move the toy quickly onto him, catching him off guard. his hips stutter forward as his arm reaches to stop your movements. his body is contrasting his own mind, and all you can do is silently laugh. 

“better question,” you say as you continue your attack on him, “have you had sex before?” 

his eyes open to look back down at you, eyes pleading with you to save him from embarrassment. you just shake your head, slowing down your movements to a stop. whines fill the room as he tries to move on his own. you move to pin his hips down, stopping his movements. “answer my questions or i’ll leave so you can cum on your own again.”

a small moan leaves his mouth as he tilts his head back. he refocuses on you, mouth opening, but nothing comes out. you slowly twist the toy at the base of his cock, your other hand moving to fondle his balls. you can tell he’s fighting back from moving without you telling him to, so he tries to let go of all his embarrassment before he speaks again. “i’ve… only had sex once. in freshman year.”

with delight, you begin moving the fleshlight slowly on him again, encouraging him to continue. “i’ve… thought of you.”

he mumbles the last words, and even though you could hear what he said, you ask him to repeat himself clearly. “t-thought of you, fucked my fleshlight thinking of you.”

his words send shivers down your spine, and you resume the quick movements of the toy back onto his dick. he thanks you without question, and in return, you move to press small, wet kisses to the inside of his thighs. his hips fuck up into the toy as you continue your kisses, haechan feeling overwhelmed by your proximity. he’s been so good, so you decide to reward him with some of your own information.

“how would you feel knowing i fucked myself with a toy, too? imagining it was you fucking my tight pussy?” a choked out moan leaves his lips as he begins moving quickly against the toy. “wished you could’ve heard me moaning your name, wished it was you fucking me instead.”

at this point, you’re just holding the toy in place for him. squeezing it around his dick, his hips shoving into it, wishing it was you. he’s close to cumming, he can feel it, his dick throbbing, heart hammering in his chest. he’s about to start begging for you to let him cum, but before he can, you say, “guess that makes us both perverts, huh? i like you just as much as you like me.”

he cums on the spot. you quickly pull the toy off of him, the sight of his cum shooting all over his chest, whimpers of your name mixed with frustration fill the air. you just lay there, laughing at him while he tries to save his ruined orgasm. you pry his hands off of himself and he just shuts his eyes, trying to catch his breath. your tongue reaches out to clean the leftover cum on his tip, and he yelps at the sensation, so you move up to clean the cum off of his chest.

once you finish, you reach up to softly kiss him. it contrasts your previous movements, and he’s stuck thinking about how you said you like him. he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, scared that you didn’t really mean what you said. he lets you kiss him, hands at your waist, lips pressing softly together.

he pushes you onto your back, laying your head softly onto his pillow. he stares at you openly, clad in just your panties. his mouth runs dry, he never thought he’d get to see you like this in his room, looking only at him. his shaky hands reach forward, one resting at your waist while the other reaches for the top of your panties, waiting for you to say he can pull them down. 

you let him, and he does. he really wishes he could shove them in his drawer, keeping it as a memory of this day, using them when thinking of you. he pushes them aside and looks down at you. your legs spread open for him to see. it’s your turn to feel a little shy, the guy who always stares at you in class now staring at your most intimate parts.

“show me how… show me how to touch you…” haechan whispers out to you, and you bite back a smile.

“was fucking someone else not enough? fucking a fleshlight wasn’t enough either?” you retort, and haechan shakes his head in embarrassment, but you can feel his dick twitch against your thigh in interest at your words. you do what he asked, one hand slithering down to your aching pussy.

he watches closely as your fingers circle around the little nub, watching as your hips twitch a little at the stimulation. “it feels best when you rub me here,” a small moan escapes your lips and you feel him subconsciously rub his dick into your thigh. 

when you feel yourself becoming sufficiently wet, you move your fingers to your entrance, teasing your twitching hole. “you’re gonna put your fingers in here, in and out of me. bet they’d feel so nice.”

he nods along dazedly, and you move to grab his fingers to replace yours. “go ahead, haechan.”

it’s so warm, so wet. he can’t believe he thought the fleshlight was good enough, not when you exist. when he pushes two fingers in, you slightly clench around his fingers and he has to hold back a moan. he can’t believe you’re letting him do this, and he looks down at you, your face scrunched in pleasure.

he scissors his fingers inside you like he does with his fleshlight. he’s not too inexperienced, learning a bit from porn and his fleshlight. it just feels so different, different than how his toy feels and how porn makes it out to be. fingering you feels better than the only time he’s had sex, all because it’s you. you’re under him, telling him how good his fingers feel, letting him do what he feels is right, like how it was always supposed to be.

he arches his fingers and sees your immediate reaction. you tell him to keep moving and he complies quickly. your moans are distracting him, and he realizes that he’s pathetically humping your thigh. he wouldn’t mind cumming again, not when it would be with you.

clearing him out of his hazy thoughts, you ask him for more, you need more. he knows what you need. like a habit from his fleshlight, his other hand reaches down, thumb beginning to circle at your clit. you let out a whimper of his name, and he rubs his thumb against you faster. you feel so good around his fingers, clenching harshly, while he ruts against you languidly.

you feel too close to cumming. that damn fleshlight, you think, gave him too much practice. you feel like jelly, mind almost numb from how good he’s doing. you moan out to tell him just how good he’s doing, and he whimpers at your praise. you can feel something wet against your thigh, and you look down to see him mindlessly humping you. you don’t want to cum like this, you need him to be inside you. 

“s-stop! please, haechan,” you whine out, tapping at his wrist to get his attention.

he immediately removes himself from you, concern painted all over his face. “are you okay?” he’s a little breathless himself, “did i do something wrong?”

“n-nothing wrong, just wanna cum on your cock instead.”

at your words, he lurches forward to kiss you, slotting himself between your legs. he kisses you hard, excited at the prospect of being inside you. if his fingers in you felt that good, then he can’t imagine how it would feel for you to be wrapped around his pulsing cock.

he tries to ignore how he can feel his dick rubbing against your core, your slick making a mess between the both of you. when his tip hits your clit, you both moan out in unison. he’s getting impatient, but at the same time, he doesn’t want this to end. he doesn’t know if this will happen again, doesn’t know if he’ll ever see you again after this.

“please, haechan. need you so bad. need to feel you in me, been waiting for so long.”

“y-yeah? made me wait for you, wanted you so bad. didn’t know you wanted me as much as i wanted you,” he says softly to you, and you realize he’s gotten more comfortable talking to you. when he’s not whimpering out to you, he’s able to talk back. you like seeing him like this, how he’d be with his friends, how he’d be with you.

“you’re acting like you made any big moves when all you did was stare at me and fuck a fake pussy,” you deadpan. he scoffs, but you can see the way his cheeks turn red again. when he twitches against you, you look up to gauge his reaction. you can tell he’s holding back, eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed.

“condom?” he asks.

you shake your head softly, “wanna feel all of you.” you hear him let out a shaky exhale, your words flooding his brain.

you softly call his name, “are you ready?”

he nods, sitting back onto his knees, looking down at the sight of the both of you. when he doesn’t immediately move, you ask, “is there something wrong, haechan? we don’t need to do this if you don’t want to-”

“no!” shocked at how loud he was, he quickly apologizes. “it’s not that i don’t want to! it’s just… i don’t want to seem so desperate…”

you reach up to place your hand on his cheek, thumbing at the moles scattered across it. he nuzzles into your touch, placing a quick kiss to your thumb. you speak up, “you don’t realize how bad i want this. like i said, there are too many times i’ve cum thinking about you.”

you move to line him up at your entrance, haechan taken aback at your forwardness. he moves on top of you, holding up his body over yours. you nod at him, telling him that you’re ready. before he does, you reassure him, “so many times i’ve thought of you on top of me like this, now i finally get to see it.”

feeling slightly embarrassed at your words, he slowly pushes in. a loud whimper escapes him, body immediately falling apart at your warmth. his arms give out, his body falling onto yours. his head falls to the crook of your neck, and you can feel his warm breath hit your already hot skin. his hands move to grip onto your sides, and you feel like he might leave faint bruises. the real thing is so much better than what he wished for last night.

you’re no better though. your hands move to his back for support, nails digging harshly into his skin. your head pushes back into the pillow, mouth spilling out whines and whimpers. you can feel how deep he is in you, how he’s twitching inside of you. if you had known he was this good, you would’ve just talked to him first. “please m-move, haechan.”

he can hear you, but it doesn’t register in his head. you clench around him to gain his attention, to which you get a dazed look in response. “need you to move, please, wanna feel you.”

when he realizes what you want, he slowly pushes himself up, hesitantly swiveling his hips against you. he lets out a small whimper, but he knows you need this just as much as he needs you. he tries to set a pace, but you can tell he’s not properly in the right headspace to make calculated movements. he’s letting his body do what it wants, and you moan out at the sight of how desperate he looks.

he continues fucking you, hips thrusting and stuttering when he feels you clench around him. you want to hear him though, you need him to talk to you. “haechan-” a whimper cuts you off, “please tell me, tell me what you’re thinking…”

he does hear you this time, and he has to suck in a large breath. his hips continue, and he tries to make out proper sentences, but he knows it won’t come out right. “feels so good- better than i could’ve ever imagined-”

“better than your fleshlight?”

“s-so much better. can feel how you’re sucking me in, can feel how wet you are.” he’s babbling, you can only catch onto some of the words he’s saying. he’s stuck between wanting to look at where you two are connected and how your face contorts in pleasure. “please let me cum in you, thought of it so much.”

“yeah? thought of filling up my pussy with your cum?” he nods at your words, punctuated with short, better timed thrusts that hit that spot inside you, your nails dragging down his back. he moans out at the feeling, and you realize he just might like a little pain.

“couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect you would f-feel around me, couldn’t help but think how i needed to show you how much i like you,” he’s moving faster now, turned on by how you’re affected by his thoughts, “always came so fast in my fleshlight at the thought.”

you’re whimpering out at his words, so sure that he’s pussy drunk that he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying. you take it all in though, relishing in how much he was really holding back when he was with you earlier.

“fucked my fleshlight just last night thinking about you,” you gasp out at this, and he feels how you clench around him, hips stuttering against you. “i didn’t even mean to, just needed you so bad.”

you pull him down to a kiss. it’s so messy, tongues meshing against each other while drool slips past both of your lips. your hands move to his hair, now wavy with how sweaty he’s gotten. you tug at it when you feel him hit that spot again. he pushes himself deep inside, hips stilling against you at the feeling, “gonna cum soon, need to cum soon, please-”

“make me cum, too. please, wanna cum with you so bad, haechan.”

he has to forcibly stop himself from cumming from hearing your voice. a shaky hand moves from your side down to your clit, thumb shakily pressing against you. you clench harshly, and he can’t stop the small thrust that presses him against you deeper. he wants to keep moving, but he knows if he thrusts a few more times, he’ll cum without a second thought. “so wet, don’ even need to do anything to help me move.”

you moan, your own hips moving up to fit more of him inside you. you don’t care how desperate you look, fully knowing haechan probably likes the look. he subconsciously moves against you, can’t fight against how good you feel. “close! ‘m so close, haechan! please, cum in me, baby!”

at the petname, haechan starts his movements again, roughly thrusting into you. he’s not thinking about it, hips slamming against yours, the only thought being cumming in your tight pussy. you feel the same, heat all over your body as you practically begin screaming for him.

“gonna give you everything. g-gonna show everyone that you're mine, how i’m yours. won’t let anyone take you away from me.” you whimper out, the knot in your stomach becoming untangled as you let your orgasm wash over you. you clench against him, walls repeatedly tightening around his cock. he can only continue so much before he cums too, warmth filling up your insides.

he’s collapsed on top of you again, hands making it to your boobs, gripping on for support. he tweaks your nipples, helping you ride out your orgasm while he fights through his. he’s so sure he’s pathetically whimpering and moaning out mixtures of your name and how good it feels, but he could care less. he’s focused on how tight you feel, how you’re milking his cock, neediness still apparent after you’ve cum.

when he slows down, he has to move away from you, your twitching pussy overstimulating him too much. what he’s more concerned about though is the aftermath. in a daze, he slowly pulls out of you. he feels the creaminess of his cum around his dick as he pulls out, watching how it slowly spills out of you. like something that looks so practiced, he moves his fingers to gather his cum, slowly pushing it inside of you as you softly moan out.

he feels the soft clench of your pussy, and his dick twitches in response. you hum, taking him out of his daze. he looks up at you, then back down at his fingers, realizing what he’s doing. “s-sorry. just… wanted to see… what would happen,” he mutters at the end, not really knowing what to say. 

he tries not to feel awkward. he really tries. it dawns on him that you both really spoke for the first time today, and now he just finished having sex with you. it’s not that he regrets it, but he’s scared, scared that he might’ve just messed up a possible relationship with you. he scratches the back of his head, too preoccupied with his thoughts. 

“aren’t you gonna lay back down with me?” you ask, a playful but tired smile on your face. 

once he realizes what you said, it all dawns down on him. it doesn’t always have to be so complicated. sometimes, all he needs is a little direction. he sees you laying down on his bed, and it just feels so right. crawling in next to you in bed, covering you both under his sheets feels normal. shy smiles being exchanged to one another as you cuddle into him, it feels like you both have done this before.

it’s okay if it doesn’t feel so timely, he thinks. he has all the time in the world for you now to properly fall in love with you.

taglist: @vqlentinez @froggyforyoongi @snflwrhaerecs4u @jenodreamer @hanyujinshoe @haechankisser @liliansun @jadethevampress @emothugsworld

[jareaul0ver]

Opposites Attract

Summary: You and Nika share a class and sit next to each other. Shes always teasing you, saying you're nerdy, while you always tease her, calling her a stereotypical jock.

wc: 1.6k warnings: none really, mostly fluff, a bit of enemies to lovers if you squint pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader

im trying this in a bit of a different style bc i feel like it fits the best! lmk if you guys like it or not

"What a nerd." "Nerd? At least I'm not a meathead."

When you first got paired with Nika for your class seating assignments, you were less than thrilled. Being with the class jock was not something you were looking forward to. You assumed she was all looks and brawn, no brain.

She felt the exact same way. She couldn't believe that she was stuck with some loser nerd. At least she'd have you to rely on for projects when basketball kept her too busy, and left her too exhausted to do anything but collapse in her bed.

You were working on your first project together, and you decided to meet up in the library. When Nika finally arrived, you had your laptop out and your nose in a book. She, on the other hand, was sweaty and exhausted from practice.

"Sorry I'm late. Coach had us run at the end of practice." She plopped her bag into the chair next to her and sat down.

"Mm, alright." You mumbled, keeping focus on the project.

She stared at you for a moment before sighing. "Are you gonna end up doing this whole thing all yourself?"

You tore your eyes away from your screen and stopped typing to look at her. "Not if you show up on time tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes. "Can't help it if practice runs late."

You scoffed. "You could've texted me, we could've rescheduled."

"Whatever." She muttered as she pulled her laptop out of her bag and opened it up to the document you were busy typing away at. Her eyes widened when she saw almost a whole page finished already. "You've done this much in the twenty minutes I wasn't here?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Jesus, what a nerd."

You deadpanned. "Nerd? At least I'm not a meathead."

She took a deep breath and shook her head before forcing herself to focus on the project, the two of you being civil for your rest of the time in the library.

"Nerd." "Meathead." "Dork." "Jock."

You smiled at Nika as she sat down next to you. She flashed a bright smile at you. "Hey, nerd."

Your eyes rolled playfully. "Hey, meathead."

Your class started and the professor taught her lesson. Nika thought it would be better to mess with you than pay attention, though. She scribbled something messily on a sticky note and stuck it right onto your notes page.

You sighed and read it. 'wanna hang out later?'

She glanced at you with a hopeful smile as you quickly wrote something back, passing it back over to her. 'can't. studying and homework for other classes :('

Nika drew a frowny face and passed it back to you. You smiled a little at it, and resumed taking notes. But she wasn't finished.

She pulled out another sticky note and wrote on it again, passing it back over to you. 'pleaseeeee? i know you wanna'

A long sigh escaped your lips as you wrote an answer and gave it back to her. 'i have too much to do tonight, sorry. and pay attention before you flunk out'

She smiled and whispered to you. "I'm not gonna flunk out, I've got my favorite dork to help me."

You shook your head. "I'm not a dork, first of all. Second, you're such a stereotypical jock, always asking the smart kid in class for help."

A quite laugh escaped her lips. It sounded like a melody to your ears.

Your professor didn't find it as endearing as you did, however. "Girls, focus." Her eyes landed on the two of you before she turned back around.

The two of you giggled together quietly.

Later than night, you were doing exactly what you told Nika you would be. A mountain of papers and books surrounded you on the floor. You had flashcards laid out everywhere. You were drowning in work, and you were ready for a break, but you only had to study for one more class.

Fortunately a break soon arrived when you heard knocking on your door. You stood up with a groan and walked over, the hair in your ponytail practically falling out, bags under your eyes from the countless hours of work you've done today.

You opened the door and Nika was standing there, a plastic takeout bag in her hand. "Thought you'd need a break tonight, I brought food."

You stared at her for a moment before smiling and pulling her inside. "You are a godsend, Nika Muhl." You grabbed the bag from her hand and set it on your desk.

Nika stood behind you, looking at all your studying materials sprawled on the floor. "Jesus, how long have you been doing this for?"

"Uh, a few hours. Nothing too bad."

"A few hours? Without a break?" She scoffed.

You turned around and looked at her. "How did you know I haven't taken a break?"

She grinned at you as she took in your appearance. "By just looking at you." You were disheveled and simply looked exhausted.

"Wow, rude." You feigned offense and placed your hand on your chest.

She laughed softly and took a step towards you. "But seriously, you need a break. You're gonna wear yourself out." She brushed a lose strand of hair out of your face.

"Guess all that studying together paid off, hm?" "Guess so. Maybe hanging with a nerd isn't that bad."

It was finals week and you had been working your ass off. Late night after late night of studying with Nika had you both prepared for your exam.

Per Nika's rules, you had to take a mandatory fifteen minute break every forty-five minutes. She refused to let you overwork yourself, and for once, you agreed. You could tell she was exhausted too. She was balancing academics and her playoff games, on top of hours long practices.

You had also implemented a reward system. While doing flashcards, for every three questions one of you got right, you got to ask the other person a question. That was when you found out Nika was gay.

"That's three, I get to ask you something now." You stared at her as you sat across from her on the floor of her dorm.

"Go for it." She smiled at you.

You thought for a moment. You had already asked her about Croatia, her teammates and friends, but not anything romantically. "Ooh, I got one. Do you have a boyfriend? Or are your eyes on any guy in particular?"

She stared at you for a moment before laughing. Your brows furrowed. "What? Why are you laughing?"

"It's just funny." She took a deep breath. "How you looked at me and thought I was straight."

Your lips parted. "You're..?" She nodded. "Oh." You squeaked quietly, your face heating up. "I-I didn't mean to assume, I just figured... y'know."

"I don't think I do."

You sighed. "I just assumed you only liked guys, I dunno."

"Well I don't." She smiled. "Only like guys, that is."

"Right." You smiled a little back at her, your gazes lingering on the others for a moment too long to be considered only friendly. You cleared your throat and looked down at the notecard in your hand. "Back to studying."

She didn't look away from you. She couldn't pull her eyes away from you.

It was the day that exam test scores were going to be released. You sat anxiously in the lecture hall, in your regular seat next to Nika. Your leg was bobbing up and down as the professor explained that only two students exceled with her exam, and you prayed that one of them was you.

Nika had her eyes on you, analyzing everything you were doing. She noticed the bobbing of your leg, but also the tight grip you held on your phone, and the way your bottom lip was caught between your teeth.

"Hey." She said quietly as she reached out, placing her hand on your knee to help calm you down. Your gaze darted up to meet hers, and her expression was soft. "I promise that you did amazing."

You swallowed nervously. "But what if I didn't? What if I totally bombed it and-"

She gently squeezed your leg. "You didn't bomb it. I know you didn't. Take a deep breath." You did. You inhaled deeply and closed your eyes as you let it out. "There you go."

She wrapped her arm around your shoulder and you relaxed a bit at her touch. You leaned your head against her, closing your eyes, and hoping for the best.

The professor called everyone down one by one, handed them the paper with their grade, and dismissed them from the class to look at it. Nika had already been called, and when you were, it took you a second to snap back into reality.

You went down and collected your paper, then quickly left the room. You rounded a corner and saw no one around you, unsure of where Nika disappeared to.

You took a deep breath before opening the paper and looking at your grade. You had gotten a 98, the highest grade in the class. You let out the breath you were holding and leaned your head back. "Thank god." You said quietly.

"Everything okay?" Nika's voice came from behind you.

You spun around with a smile on your face. "I got a 98!"

She smiled at you before moving forward and wrapping her arms around you, pulling you into a hug. "Holy shit! I got a 93!" You hugged her back and smiled brightly against her neck.

You pulled back to look at her, and in a wave of emotions, crashed your lips against hers. She froze for a second before reciprocating the kiss, causing you to stumble backwards a bit.

The both of you giggled and your rested your foreheads against each other's. "Guess all that studying together paid off, hm?" You grinned.

"Guess so." She pecked your lips. "Maybe hanging with a nerd isn't that bad."

i really hope you guys like this one!! i loved writing this sm that i wrote it practically within the same sitting on the same day that I got the request. thank you anon for sending this in!!

[time-slink]

a bunch of art i’m like mostly sure i haven’t shown before, and some thoughts on it under the cut vvv

recently i’ve been drawing both less (in general) and less (for any audience), and it’s given me a little bit of perspective; i’ve been posting my art online since i was ~10! and i’ve very carefully maintained all throughout my boundary between ‘art i draw for me’ and ‘art i post’, because i knew intellectually that All my art being seen by tens of thousands of people on twitter when i was 13 or so would lead to. complications.

—but i’m not sure i ever really though about the why, and it’s kinda hitting me now that it lead to me thinking most of my art just had too much of me in it to show to anybody? all the internet artists i’ve ever looked up to curate what they post too, of course, and i think that lodged itself in my brain as ‘there is something fundamentally messier about you, your creative progress, everything’ somewhere along the way (because i saw some of what other people drew and All of what i drew, it only made sense).

anyways, in the service of transparency, here is some art i drew (sometime in the past few years i’ve had this blog) for myself, or got frustrated with, or deemed too messy to show to people— because there are other artists following me, and maybe it can give you perspective too. with the acknowledgment that this doesnt even scratch the surface, and that i’ve drawn uglier things that you can imagine, not on purpose, and gotten incredibly frustrated with it all, just like i’m sure you all do

(im also posting these because i’ve gotten invested in other things and it feels like a little bit of a waste to not share the things i liked about being here— i’m honestly not sure if i’ll post art on this blog again? i’ve really enjoyed just scribbling and showing it to my dearest friends, a lot more than i think i’ve ever enjoyed posting to a wider but unknown audience)

[pers1st]

i can't handle change - leah williamson x reader

part two of let down

pairing: leah williamson x barça!reader

warnings: bit angsty

You had expected your first day, merely a day after arriving in the city, to be full of football. Barcelona did media duties occasionally, for sure. But you had expected to throw yourself into training immediately here, mostly in an attempt to conceal your emotions and at least act as though you wanted to give everything for this club. In truth, you wanted to give everything for yourself. You wanted to keep yourself a candidate for the national team, you wanted to keep yourself a candidate for Barcelona once they were ready to sign you back, you wanted to play, partially, out of spite as well. Anger was one of the emotions in your mess of a mind, and although you knew that it was no use, you wanted to show Jona the mistake he had made.

What you hadn't expected was the absolutely overwhelming amount of cameras, catching every inch of you they could. London Colney, otherwise known as the Arsenal training centre, was nice, but it was different from what you were used. The corridors were small and you feared they'd squish you if you stared at the white walls for a second too long. The friendly woman from the entrance, who's name you had missed due to her heavily accented English, had led you all the way to Jonas' office on the first floor, and the man was gauging at you with a grin you couldn't quite place. You shifted uncomfortably.

"So, let's put pen to paper!", he clapped his hands as he gently motioned to the seat next to him after having shaken your sweaty hand.

"Yes", you croaked as you sat down, taking the pen with the Arsenal logo into your shaky grip. The smile on your lips was fake as ever as you scribbled your name onto the dotted line. You fooled them again when holding up your shirt for the cameras. And again as you sat in front of the social media's team, answering all of their questions.

Your move surprised everyone in the Women's Football Community, can you tell us what exactly made you choose Arsenal?

Of course. I think Arsenal are very good with the fans, and they play really good football. I'm really excited to maybe play at the Emirates, and yeah I think anyone can see they are a real family so that's why I'm happy to be a part of it.

They payed the most. That was the answer you would've given, had anyone actually wanted to hear the truth from you. But people didn't want the truth. People wanted you to love Arsenal. And although it pained you, you had to admit that so far, it wasn't that bad.

Leah gave you a tour of her home that was now yours too, and the training grounds were nice. The gym was nice. The changing room was nice. The cafeteria was nice. You couldn't hate the club as much as you had when you hadn't seen it yet - hadn't been a part of it.

"So, do you like it here?"

You thought for a second that you would choke on your food when Wally asked you this, completely blindsiding you as you sat with her, Leah, Laia and Teyah in the dining hall, letting most of their conversation slip past you. Their English was difficult for you, not because you hadn't learned (or, attempted to learn) them language, but because you'd never heard it as much as you did here. The words were starting to become a constant, distant noise somewhere in the back of your mind, but as Wally looked at you expectantly and the others turned towards you, you knew that this wasn't something you could escape.

"Yeah, sure", you smiled. "It's nice here."

"Your contract is two years, right?"

You nodded. "Sí."

Two years. Two long years of being away from Alexia, except for Spanish camps. Two long years of being away from your parents, your actual teammates, your actual home. The thought didn't scare you as much as it used to.

"So, two years and then you'll go back?", Leah nudged you playfully, sipping her water as she smirked.

You shrugged. "We should see."

Over the next few days, you got to know the team, and London, even better. Leah spent every minute she could with you, always partnering with you during training and offering to show you her favorite cafés and places in the city when you weren't kicking balls around, inviting you over to her flat for a movie night or taking you to the little Spanish market she'd found halfway across the city. You appreciated her company, knowing that she was trying to make this transition as comfortable for you as possible. She didn't succeed completely, as you still felt homesick whenever she spared you a minute to call Alexia, or when you checked Barça's social media to see all of your teammates together, seemingly not even missing you.

Logically, you knew that they did. Barça was a family, and Alexia told you everyday that the girls were asking about you. Many of them texted you as well, informing you that they would try and find a livestream of your cup game against Reading, in which you would likely make your debut for your new club. Still, seeing them without you felt like someone was shooting daggers through your chest, piercing the skin and leaving you to bleed. You wanted to be there. You should be there. They had taken that opportunity away from you, ripping it out of your hands and tearing it apart like a piece of paper.

Anger and longing rose within you interchangeably, and if you didn't know any better, you would've believed you were simply going through a breakup like any other. But you forced yourself to push through the first week as hard as you could, keeping conversations with Alexia short in order to not be pulled back into memories and instead attempt to enjoy the present.

You were glad when Laia told you about her birthday party just a few days before your first match. The team had planned to go to Laia's favorite Spanish restaurant, and as you were a part of the team now as well, Kim had extended the reservation for another person. That was how you had found yourself, dressed in a tight black dress with a pullover on top, in Leah's car, allowing yourself to accept her offer to share a ride, trying to ignore the ringing phone in your hands.

Your ringtone cut off the soft country music playing in the background, which you had told Leah many times you would not enjoy. When the ringing finally stopped, you breathed a sigh of relief. Just for it to start again mere seconds later.

"Maybe you should answer that", Leah huffed, her eyes focused on the road but a soft smile on her lips. You shrugged.

"It's Alexia."

"You're ignoring the Alexia Putellas?" Leah's expression turned into a shocked one at once, but you could only chuckle.

"You're feeding her ego. She's just- my best friend, you know?", you attempted to explain how Ale's success had never driven a wedge between the two of you, not only because many believed you were equally good at football, but because Alexia was likely the most down-to-earth person you knew. Of course, the woman knew how good she was. Everyone did. But she'd never let it change her.

"Isn't that just more of a reason to not ignore her?"

You shrugged again.

"I dunno. Don't want to talk to her."

Leah's eyebrows furrowed as you finally reached your destination and she put the car into park. Your phone began ringing again. This time, you declined her call, texting her quickly that you couldn't talk right now.

"Why?"

You shrugged again. It seemed like all you knew to do, but as you looked at the way Leah's expression didn't relent in the slightest, you knew that it wouldn't work anymore. Maybe it was good to talk to Leah. Maybe she would understand.

"It just reminds me of home, you know. I miss it", you croaked, suddenly overwhelmed with longing once more. You wanted nothing more than to be in your apartment again, to drive to the Barcelona training grounds in your blue and red shirt, to join Mapi's banter, you even missed being yelled at by Irene and Marta.

"Are we really that bad?", Leah attempted to joke, a hand of hers flying out to gently land on your knee. Your breath hitched at the sudden contact, your eyes leaving hers to stare at her fingers on your skin.

“No”, you huffed. “Not at all, that’s the problem.”

Sitting in the car with Leah, nothing but the annoying country music in the background, for a second felt like a breath of fresh air. For just a second, you could focus on the warmth of her skin, on the air refresher dangling from her rearview mirror, on the eyes that she lay on you gently, on the softness of it all.

“Should we go?”, you broke the silence, knowing that Laia would not be happy if you were late. It was past ten already, and you softly smiled at the knowledge that some Spanish habits never truly left. It felt comforting to eat this late, as stupid as it sounded. It reminded you of the countless team dinners you’d had with Barça. You didn’t allow yourself, once again, to dwell on the fond memories as you pushed your door open without awaiting Leah’s answer, her hand retrieving from its position as she followed you into the restaurant, a bottle of Spanish wine in your hands. You had brought as much as you had been allowed to bring, and you figured passing Laia one singular bottle couldn’t hurt too much.

The restaurant held a nice atmosphere, one that immediately pulled you in as the bell jingled above your head. Most of the girls were already sitting at the table reserved for you, who all turned as they waved at you happily, grins plastered on their faces. Laia caught your eye first - she was wearing a little plastic crown, grinning like a kid on Christmas as she rose from her seat, hurrying to welcome you and Leah, who seemed to be the last ones to have arrived.

"¡Feliç aniversari!", you hugged Laia shortly, rubbing your hand across her back before pushing the bottle into her hands.

"Merci", she smiled as she accepted it, taking Leah into a short hug as well before you made your way towards the only seats available. The warmth of Leah's body next to yours, the familiar food and music playing softly in the background almost made you forget about the guilt in your stomach. You weren't supposed to enjoy all of this half as much as you did.

Seemingly as a distraction, though you figured you subconsciously wanted to remind yourself of what was your actual home, you opened Instagram. A video of Aitana singing the Barça chant, laughing into the camera with golden confetti around her shoulders, made you halt. You scrolled. You saw the trophy.

Shit - that was what Alexia had been calling you about. Of course. It came back to you flying - the supercopa final was today. How could you have forgotten? It was all you had been looking forward to ever since the winter break had ended. Yet you were so far away from it all, the match had slipped between your fingers, and you were left with nothing but the reminder that Barcelona functioned just as well without you, that they had simply moved on, while you were stuck here - in a Spanish restaurant, with your "friends", trying to remind yourself that if you tried hard enough, this could feel like home.

With a screech, you pushed your chair back and wobbled out of your seat uncomfortably.

"Just need the bathroom", you excused yourself in response to Leah's surprised expression, before marching through the restaurant and leaving all of the girls behind.

The bathroom was empty, luckily, and you let the tears flow at once. How had you been so stupid? How had you thought that, even for a minute, you would be okay so far away from your home, watching your teammates do all the things you wanted to do with them, while seemingly not missing you at all?

It didn't make any sense to you- Barcelona could win every trophy they wanted, while you were stuck in London, not even sure whether they would want you back after your contract was over. Were you delusional? Were you ever going to return to Barcelona?

Just as your brain started spinning further, and you had to steady yourself on the sink, knuckles turning white from how hard you wanted to keep yourself grounded, the door to the bathroom swung open. You didn't need to look up to know who it was - her body was right behind you, and she smelled of vanilla, just like her car did.

Leah. It was Leah who had entered the bathroom. Leah who was frantically trying to get you to talk to her, all the while you were choking on your sobs. Leah, who had tried her best to make you somewhat comfortable in the club she loved so much. How were you supposed to look her in the eye?

[soaqrudyz]

i am of the firm belief that neither ghost or gaz cared very much for soap when he first joined the 141

gaz had never met him before, all he knew was the guy was just a little bit of a prick. he was incredibly talented, gaz would give him that, and he’d never been outwardly rude to anyone that gaz had heard of, but oftentimes his confidence bled into something just short of arrogance, soap always seemed to be the one ranting and raving about his achievements when everyone else spoke of their mistakes. in layman’s terms: he was full of himself in a way that would surely get him killed.

ghost; however, had met him before. they’d worked together some three times before price recruited soap. ghost knew of his skill, knew that sunny disposition got quieter at night when soap thought he was alone, knew soap would thrive with them; but god, if ghost could shove his thumbs into those all-seeing, all-knowing crystal eyes he’d do so in a heartbeat. he hated the way they seemed to burn straight through the heavy material of his mask, how they could look into his own eyes and hold infinite knowledge of his broken psyche by the time they flick to some other uninteresting member of his former squadron. it was horror, to be understood so wholly.

but then gaz got hurt, four days of medically induced coma hurt, and when he jerked awake at, if the clock on the shitty hospital tv was to be believed, 2 in the morning there was soap. he looked disheveled: hair a tangled mess, dark circles only worsened by the shadows of the mostly unlit room, and covered in scattered butterfly sutures. his head was leaned on his bicep, slumped over the lowered tray connected to gaz’s bed.

under his head were the blood and tear stained pages of his open journal, a gorgeous portrait of gaz sketched onto the yellowed sheets with sleep deprived rantings in the margins on how soap could have saved him if he’d just been quicker. gaz slips it out from under him, only feeling a tiny bit like an ass for flipping through the leather bound soul of his comrade, but soap had stolen his favorite shirt so it stood to reason he should take something back. the entire 141 is scribbled on in the pages, buried between bomb schematics and scenic landscapes and soap’s scrawled insecurities. something shifts as he soaks in the words, months of feeling like an outsider and desperate tries to be as good as his teammates.

it’s different, gaz thinks as he flips back to his own face, being in the mind of john mactavish.

but then ghost is walking past price’s office and soap bursts out, pushing past him with flushed cheeks and hurried apologies, practically sprinting in the direction of his shared room. ghost, loathe to admit it, was worried, afraid that the first real human connection aside from garrick he’d had in years was going to ripped from him before he’d even started putting time into it. he didn’t want to lose something good, not again, so he follows him, rushes to catch him before he slams the door in ghost’s face.

soap’s shoving clothes into his duffle when ghost slips inside his room, noticeably holding back tears as he rambles to himself. for a minute ghost is stuck, unused to such blatantly shown emotion, but then he takes a step, sets a gentle hand on soap’s shoulder and asks what’s going on, heart thudding against his ribcage.

“my ma..” soap croakes, and heavy sobs break up whatever else he was going to say. he doesn’t have to, ghost knows, probably better than anyone else.he does the first thing that comes to mind: he drags soap into his chest, wraps his whole body around him like he can protect soap from the hurt. the sergeant doesn’t deserve to feel that hollowness in his chest. soap crashes into him like a wave to the shore, balling his hands into ghost’s hoodie and hiding his face in ghost’s collarbones. ghost had never been one for physical closeness, but there was something different about being in johnny’s arms.

there was an obvious difference in their demeanor toward him in the weeks to come, but neither really cared about how it happened, just that it did, and now they can seek each other’s warm, pink tinted gaze when soap makes a fool of himself.

[wing-ed-thing]

Late Night Study Session (Trafalgar Law x Reader)

Synopsis: You've been studying day and night all week. You can't help but goof off a little.

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, College AU, Suggestive Language

Notes: I didn't think it'd be here but it's here

“Are you an appendix? Because I have a gut feeling I should take you out.”

”Jesus Christ.”

You thought you just about broke him, your hysterical laugh turning into a wheeze as Law buried his face in his hands. You sat in the study room together. Just about the size of a large closet, the walls of the room were covered in whiteboards. A table, now littered with your laptops and hand-written papers, sat in the center with a large, fancy power strip. 

Law’s coffee sat amongst the empty take-out containers. The caffeinated drinks you had imbibed only contributed to the chaotic table. A warm light glowed overhead, glaring at Law’s scribbles on the whiteboard walls. It glowed a bit brighter than the light panels on the ceiling outside, the motion-activated sensors having dimmed when the new, expensive science building vacated long ago. 

You and Law had your last final together, which unfortunately fell on the last day of finals before move-out. A more advanced anatomy class, your test would encompass all the material you had covered since week one. Of course, this didn’t include the online modules that weren’t covered in class but would also be on the test. Even more, unfortunately, your final exam would make up forty percent of your overall grade. 

Quizzes, notes, and study guides from previous tests sat in a haphazard order across the table, over your empty seats, and pinned to the whiteboards like a detective’s evidence board. Pen ink smudged across the crinkled pages, and a patch of eraser dust lived on the table no matter how many times you tried to brush it away.

You were sure you were the only ones occupying a study room at the hour it was. You had practically been living out of it for the past week in preparation for finals. 

“Are you a heart surgeon? Because I get tachycardia whenever I see you.”

”It’s probably that abomination you’ve been sipping on all night.” Law gestured to one in your small army of drinks. You conjured up a concoction that contained just too much caffeine and sugar. “That stuff will kill you someday.” 

“If it gets me a passing grade, I’ll take ten,” you sighed, perusing a stapled packet of printed questions. You stopped at a page in the middle of the thick collection, taking a moment to think. “You can fill my… caudate nucleus with dopamine anytime.” 

You grinned, looking up at Law, whose already hooded gaze appeared even more narrow. His hand ran across his face, massaging the skin around his eyes. 

“You’ve officially lost it.”

”I lost it a few hours ago; let’s be real.” 

Law paid you little mind, shuffling around his notes before rearranging them in reverse order. For as rapidly as his eyes glanced over them, you knew Law was at his limit. There were only so many times you could look at the same collection of letters scrambled together before your brain fried, and frankly, you and Law had likely overstayed your time in the study room trying to push yourselves. 

You just weren’t afraid to know when it was time to give up.

”Are you a femur? Because you’re… you’re the largest bone in the human body.”

”That one doesn’t even make sense,” Law mumbled, still not entirely focusing on his notes despite his unmoving gaze. “The brachial plexus is formed by the anterior rami of the spinal nerves C5 to T1,” Law recited, a bit of forced certainty laced in his voice. 

“Yeah,” you hummed, playing with a pen and an empty coffee cup. 

“And the median nerve innervates the flexor muscles and the thenar muscles in the hand,” Law spoke definitively, crossing off a point of your massive study guide.

”And?”

Law glanced up at you.

”What do you mean ‘and’?” 

“Forearm. It’s mostly the median nerve you’re gonna lose points if you don’t also mention—”

“Ulnar. Fuck.”

Law threw his packet on the table. He hadn’t been this sloppy when you started that afternoon. But since you took a break to eat dinner— you were sure dinners with you in the study room were the only full meals Law had since the finals crunch began— studying had been futile. 

You had about eighty percent of the material sort of under your belt, but even that was shaky, considering the doomed format of your exams. No one in your class (or any of the other sections) received a passing grade during the midterm, and you were more than sure that even the study guide was a rough basis for what would actually be on the exam. 

“Maybe it’s about time we’ve turned in for the night,” you said quietly. 

Law had thrown his head back as he slumped over the table. A hand covered his eyes. His chest heaved a deep breath. 

The final was a lot of material, almost an impossible amount. You were on your own when it came to studying— the study guide (if you could even call it that)— was a miracle in and of itself. 

You knew that no matter how much you studied, you were bound to come across some curveball question about some obscure minutia you read about once. But Law, on the other hand, Mr. 52/100 on the midterm himself, was as stressed as ever. It didn’t matter that 52 was the highest score across all three sections; he was absolutely beside himself.

“Maybe,” he affirmed. Law would never tell you outright if you were right, even as he began to gather his things. 

You also began gathering your things, discarding your trash in the can, and sweeping your written notes unceremoniously back into plopped binders in your backpack. You finished moments before Law and waited by the door.

The bags under his eyes were more severe than usual, and he carried himself like his body was heavy. Law slouched a bit under the weight of his backpack but ultimately joined you at the door, grabbing it from your grasp to head out together.

You weren’t entirely sure why Law insisted on your study sessions to begin with. As serious and studious as he was, you were sure he had some rigorous study strategy he’d want to do alone. But ultimately, Law insisted that you study together and hardly gave you a choice in the matter. Given how much he talked to himself, you assumed he just wanted a warm body to bounce things off of. 

“Are you an ulnar nerve? Because you’ve got me feeling all the right sensations in my hands and my heart.” You placed your hands over the left side of your chest as you made your way out of the building. 

As you anticipated, the halls were quiet, and your voice bounced off the tiles. The motion-activated lights took a moment to flicker as the two of you passed. The sky outside the windows you walked by was pitch black, and the paths were illuminated only by the campus street lights. 

Law shook his head as the most subtle snort of amusement left his nose. His mouth scrunched together to contain his subtle laugh, but the motion was just enough to brighten his demeanor. The energy around you rose like a breath of fresh air had just wafted through. 

“You’re terrible at those,” Law said, holding the door for you as you stepped outside. 

The night air was cool when you left the building, being just chilly enough to prickle your skin. The streetlights lit up a fair amount of campus, illuminating your path back to the dorms. The door to the science building shut behind you, officially locking you out of the building. 

“Like you could do any better!” you laughed, clutching your backpack straps as you stepped out in front of Law. You pivoted on your heel, only to notice he hadn’t moved. You met his dark eyes with a crinkle of your forehead. 

Your face fell in confusion, which only mounted as Law took two wide strides to close the gap between you. Without warning, his hand found the underside of your face, cupping it firmly to tilt toward his. His other hand was shoved in the pocket of his coat. Your breath hitched as he leaned in.

“Wanna exchange genetic material?”

“Law!” you gasped, nearly shrieking his name in surprise, as your first instinct was to roughly shove him away as heat rose under your skin. You stumbled a few steps down the path, trying desperately to hide the embarrassing expression that graced your face. And when you did turn back to look at him— in sheer astonishment— Law was proudly wearing a pursed-lipped smirk.

“You’re the one who challenged me,” Law hummed with an amused bounce of his brows. He followed as you began in the direction of the dorms. 

“I’d hardly call that an anatomy-themed pickup line!” you exclaimed, your voice a pitch higher than usual. Law reached for your sleeve, a shine in his eyes as he slowed your pace. You kept backing up down the path, playfully tugging him along. Law rolled his eyes.

“Is too. You’re just embarrassed that I made you all flustered—”

“You’re just embarrassed that I trounce you at anatomy-themed pickup lines!”

You hardly finished your sentence before Law used the grip on your hand to his advantage, twirling you around into his arms, backpack and all. The movement felt bulky and heavy to you, but Law kept control over your movements, once again trapping you in proximity.

You lost your voice in your throat as you stared into his dark irises. They appeared even darker in the dim lighting, like the glinting gaze of a leopard as nocturnal bugs chirped around you. He raised a brow, his face swiveling cockily as he delivered his line.

“You wanna learn some real anatomy?” 

“Get outta here!” 

You pressed your palm to his forehead, playfully shoving his head back as Law relinquished you as you covered your hand with your face. Law grabbed your sleeve again, moving in front of you to tug you back to the dorms. 

Maybe he won that round after all, but you’d never tell him that. 

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

"I was pretty sure you'd sleep in and forget to meet me this morning" “Wouldn't have forgotten if I was sleeping with you" “But look at this.. Jesus.. look at this outfit" vibes

[slayedpoet]

some random Joost headcanons

i've had a few over the past months so i've decided to compile them into a list, but then the list grew exponentially so i thought that maybe i could share ☺️; they are mostly tooth rotting domestic fluff, with some hints here and there, but nothing too explicit.

(pardon any possible grammar or syntax errors)

[ALSO WARNING RPF UNDER THE CUT for anyone who gets too worked up by it, or the thought of it, please stay fucking clear, thank you bye 😌]

‌he ‌doesn't know how to cook but he's willing to learn if you know how to, though expect it to get messy, like flour on your or his cheeks; he also might try and "eat" the raw batter, which would earn him a few slaps on his hands.

BONUS: finding him sitting on the floor checking cakes and biscuits baking in the oven

he’s a golden retriever mixed with a great dane

like a big dog that is not aware of his size (affectionate)

he’d ‌plop down on you while you’re laying on the couch, and loves laying his head on your chest so he can hear your heartbeat; you’d put a hand on his scalp and he'd be out like lightning. you'd hear light snoring and he'd have the most peaceful smile plastered all over his face

‌does it even when you're in bed

‌super cuddly, straight up koala style, big or small spoon it doesn't matter as long as he gets his cuddles

‌he'll crack the worst jokes EVER, you're laughing though 😏

‌uses his height to his advantage some times

‌you'd be laying in bed late at night trying to sleep and he'd start speaking in different ways like he sometimes does, the noise box strikes again, and you’d end up laughing with tears in your eyes, "you love me anyway though liefde"

if you go to the beach then prepare to get ABSOLUTELY FUCKING drenched, dog in action again; knows he has to put sunscreen on but he’ll give you hell for it, running around like a toddler and you’d have to force him to sit under the umbrella to put him on him; when you are on your towel drying and tanning he'd just come back from the water and shake himself on top of you like a dog, drenching you, or simply laying on top of you while wet

‌pebbling, and it goes both ways

you love exchanging clothes, specially before he goes on tour: like t-shirts and hoodies; you sometimes like to hide one of your shirts in his suitcase as a surprise

if he has to leave early in the morning for tour he’ll leave little scribbled messages on post-its all over the place for when you wake up

‌pillow fort for movie nights (but even random nights); although he's too tall for it, but if he sits he fits

‌soft™ and warm

absolutely loves ‌scratches, specially behind his ears

BONUS: if you keep it up for enough time he might actually purr

sometimes when he kisses you on the cheek ends up licking all over it

randomly bites your upper arm mid conversation

‌if you try shutting him up by putting a hand on his mouth he'll either bite it, spit on it or lick it

‌loves staring at you (not in a creepy way), just watch you as you do random, domestic stuff, but don't catch him please or he'll blush a nice shade of pink

‌when laying in bed together he sometimes lets his intrusive thoughts win and blows raspberries on your tummy, you’ll try getting him off of you, but he has a strong grip over your midriff so there’s no escaping him (if you to do the same to him he'll screech so loud)

tickling competition that ends with both of you on the ground with short breaths and happy tears streaming down your faces

oh so you’re ‌eating dessert and accidentally have cream around your mouth? he’ll lick it up no worries

‌something something oral fixation ok...

‌a literal menace™ and obnoxious (affectionate)

once he slapped your ‌butt playfully and you ended up running around the whole house chasing him to retaliate

‌he’s very clingy while drunk, cheeks soft pink and slurring dutch words

‌overly excited guy, if you’ve been apart for some time he’d greet you by lifting you up and spinning you around

‌writes you letters and sends you postcards while he’s out on tour, and adds little doodles all around

you’re definitely ‌getting woken up by some different music every day, although it's rare that he wakes up before you (it's the most random stuff ever too)

‌once you catch him doodling you, IT'S THE CUTEST THING EVER, god he's as red as a tomato cause he tried to hide it from you, but then you asked him so nicely and he crumbled so easily

he’s a ‌blushing mess if praised

‌leans into your touch a lot cause he’s a bit touch starved (just a bit yeah…)

‌can, and will, get himself out of situations thanks to his insane puppy eyes

‌tries teaching you Dutch in the most random ways

‌loves LOVES to hear you laugh/make you laugh, so he'll go jester mode some times, specially if you're feeling down and need to be cheered up

‌will go feral if he sees you wearing any of his albino stuff

‌fan of the good old calls, he insists specially during tour or if you've happened to be long distance

CONS: sometimes he calls at ungodly hours, but you'll listen anyway

‌dorkiest of all

‌takes his glasses off when at home, which leads to him having to squint every once in a while, at you and at things; which is like THE CUTEST THING EVER

‌sometimes you get home and he's laying on the sofa with his dogs on top of him in a cuddle pile

‌LISTEN LISTEN MUSEUM DATES he'd be sooo down for it

‌you take Polaroids of each other, some are cute, some well…less 😏

‌cheesy motherfucker named joost klein, specially during the most inopportune moments (more so during THOSE moments), so you’d slap him and roll your eyes at him while blushing and he’d grin like a cat who's got the cream

sleeps on his stomach, probably starfish so he occupies a good ¾ of the bed cause he’s so tall and lanky, and you’ll have no option but to adjust

(btw i forgot one thing: if any of you lovely writers wants to take any of these and put them in fics, go ahead 🙏🥹)

[megumishotgf]

pov: megumi has a crush on you

summary: more megumi headcanons i fear… ya’ll like my texts way more so this is definitely written for me.

warnings: reference to catcalling? other than that sfw + gender non-specified!!

masterlist

reserved! megumi who takes his time getting to know you. he studies all your qualities and aspects personality as if one day he’ll be quizzed on your features. megumi admires your ambition and drive but most of all your tenderness and selflessness. he’s drawn to people with good and expressive hearts. people who like to help others and perform nice gestures just because they can.

attentive! megumi who focuses diligently when you’re speaking, concentrating on every single trivial detail, even those that slip absent-mindedly past your lips without much thought. he listens to you ramble on and on about your interests yet it never bores him (and he gets bored of people alright). speaks so softly with you in a tone that surprises everyone around you (mainly nobara and yuji who have never seen him so interested in another human before… he’s always this soft to animals, though).

nerdy! megumi who prefers reading non-fiction but will pick up your favourite fantasy novels just because he wants to feel close to you. seeing your eyes light up when he mentions the titles to you makes his heart swell. highlights his favourite quotes and annotates in between pages. he’ll share them with you, gaze fixated on you as your eyes scan over all of this thoughtful comments. you feel such genuine happiness knowing he has gone so far to do this for you.

sappy! megumi who picks up one of your romance suggestions next, finding himself relating to the hopelessly enamoured protagonist. again, he annotates his copies and scribbles exclamation marks when he comes across passages that resonate with his growing feelings for you. doesn’t show you these ones, of course. at least not yet.

shy! gumi who admires your kindness from afar. all the little things you go out of your way to do just to help someone else. when you assist yuuji in the kitchen with his high-protein meals or paint nobara’s nails with great precision. when you’re the first to offer your seat up for an elderly woman on the metro or when you bounce out of your seat to help your teachers carrying piles of school documents.

observant! megumi who notices all of your little habits. the kind of things that make you feel so loved and cared for when he mentions them back to you. those things that no one else really noticed even if you badly wanted it to be seen.

love-sick! megumi would configures multiple playlists about you. one playlist containing all your favourite tracks and another with all those that you recommended to him directly. the type to listen to ‘i wanna be yours’ and fall asleep to thoughts of being with you. so many random romantic playlists often come up on his spotify profile. one time he made you a physical mixtape. yes, it was mostly just love songs… you swore it was just a coincidence. mostly.

insecure! megumi who constantly thinks he could never be good enough for you. dismisses your concern when you notice him distancing himself (because somehow you can distinguish between this and his usual quietness) but can never fully push you away. feels his heartbeat accelerate when you offer him physical comfort (with less reluctance than with anyone else). hugs from you are so comforting.

touch-starved! megumi who craves your physical affection all the time and it gets very noticeable. his arms instinctively circle around your waist whenever you greet him, rushing over for a hug. at first it was always you initiating the affection, but it’s starting to feel so natural reciprocating it. your hand will subtly slip into his when you are walking around central tokyo together or you’ll cling onto his side for comfort and warmth. he worries that you’ll be able to hear his obnoxiously loud heartbeat when you do so, but nothing could make him pull away.

annoyed! megumi who glares at his friends when they tease him about your physical affection (or when they hear your nicknames for him). but at least they have the decency to wait until you’ve left, he thinks. i give them one more week, yuuji says to nobara as megumi walks away in the same direction you just went.

if looks could kill… nobody would want to experience angry! megumi. even yuuji and nobara started to feel unsettled seeing him like that after some old loser started to catcall you. you had barely registered what was called out to you before he fearfully disappeared around the corner.

kind! megumi who opens his arms for you when he sees you’re upset. sometimes struggles with verbal comfort, but he remembers how nice it is to be hugged by you, so surely this should help. it does help - and he feels his heart swell when you thank him for being there for you.

even more nervous! megumi who finally musters the courage to confess his feelings for you. rehearses the speech in his head (and surprisingly to yuuji) tens of times only to be left astounded after you make the confession first. finally kissing you felt like the sun rising after months of darkness.

megumi who has infinite amounts of layers!! getting to know him is truly a magical experience. ultimate green flag he is perfect end of discussion!!

haven’t published anything in so long… hey ya’ll. how is everyone doing. pls send requests i am out of ideas!!