#I'll have a different answer when something better comes along

[respectthepetty]

Because when a color demon is summoned by @negrowhat and @mggsttn's post, I show up!

Top 5 - Color-Coded Storytelling in BLs

Y'all already know what number one is, but let's pretend you don't. Instead follow me on this journey into BLs that gave the best color-coded storytelling. In order to be considered for this list:

The story had to integrate the colors into multiple aspects of the series: wardrobe, lighting, accessories, setting, etc.

The colors had to be meaningful to the plot.

The narrative did not explicitly state what the colors meant.

The color coding had to be consistent and featured in each episode.

The series has to be finished.

So let's begin!

Honorable Mention: Oh No! Here Comes Trouble

This isn't a BL (yet it's queer, so anyone who says it isn't can argue with the ghosts), but that damn red thread of fate had me and Yiyong messed up all season! The appearance of the color red in the series was less of an alarm, and more of a signal that every single moment was connected. All those single red threads that Yiyong and his unlikely crime-solving buddies weaved each episode came together at the last minute not only to solve the crime, but to stitch Yiyong together and bring him back from the edge of death because the true message of the show about fate and dying was how connection is what makes life worth living.

#5 - Moonlight Chicken

Director Aof and Cinematographer Rath never miss, but this particular story being told in this series through the symbolism and lighting depicting moon vs. sun, coldness vs. warmth, dislike vs. love, and so much more was phenomenal. Watch the scene of Li Meng holding a crying Heart in Heart's cold, blue, dark room then witness the two kissing in Li Meng's warm, orange-ish, bright living room or watch the hatred and blue melting off of Alan as he begins to find love again and you'll understand that the color coding in this show wasn't just a simple red versus blue dynamic. This was the work of PROFESSIONALS. This color coding was like tiramisu made by the best Italian chef; it had layers and was effing delicious!

#4 - My Beautiful Man

This show did several visual devices oh-so-well. We got Hira always being lower than Kiyoi. We got the duck. We got Hira capturing Kiyoi with his camera instead of being present with him. We got traditional colors but with that Japanese twist. And all of the elements worked together to give us an elite visual story. Hira was blue. Kiyoi was white. Hira was the loyal and reserved servant. Kiyoi was a god. Yet this was the point of contention between the two. Kiyoi wasn't a heavenly being. He was a human boy devoid of love. He wanted Hira to love him, not worship him. He wanted Hira to stand with him, not lower himself. He wanted Hira to live with him, not through him. So we saw Kiyoi struggle with his color when he didn't feel stable in their relationship, but once Hira made it clear that he loved Kiyoi, Kiyoi never shined brighter.

#3 - My Love Mix-Up

Nobody does colors like Japan. It color codes its ties. It leans into the religious aspect of the light versus dark color scheme. It invents new ways to color-code and is always evolving . . . like Aoki's orange color did in this series. Our disaster bisexual started the series with a muted color and as he discovered he liked a boy and not the girl he originally was crushing on, his color started to emerge. At first it was a soft yellow, but by the end, it was a vibrant orange. Ida was a solid blue, so watching Aoki's feeling deepen for him was electric each time the blue lighting lingered on his face until it overwhelmed him. Oh, and that color exchange is the best that has ever been done!

#2 - Semantic Error

This show tricked us. Jae Young played us the way he played Sang Woo, yet Jae Young's true colors were revealed as the boys spent more time with each other because isn't that the entire point of color coding? Seeing people's true colors without having to be told? Jae Young started off as red solely because quiet and introverted Blue Boy Sang Woo HATED red. That was it! That was the entire reason Jae Young became red. He just wanted to piss off Sang Woo. But as the boys worked together and Jae Young's personality shown through, Sang Woo realized Jae Young wasn't the devil he made him out to be and was actually a pretty chill Green Guy who he wanted to hug longer than two weeks.

#1 - Big Dragon

The only reason 82% of the crowd decided to watch this show was because of the visual above. Let that sink in. This one visual piqued y'alls interest enough to watch a show about a guy drugging someone to have sex with him and blackmail him with the tape of it so he could *looks at notes* get the girl? A girl?! And the guy who was drugged, almost sexually assaulted, and blackmailed was *checks notes again* HE WAS IN TO IT?!

Y'all hated this show. I loved it. Y'all think it was ridiculous. I love it. Y'all are rolling your eyes right now. I will always love it because it understood the assignment! I can't keep repeating the same points over and over, but here I go again:

Everything was color coded!

And it all supported the story. It never distracted from the story. It never became its own story. It was laced into the story. It did exactly what visual rhetoric is supposed to - show don't tell.

And it showed me when Yai opened his heart to Mangkorn.

And how Mangkorn's love transformed Yai.

It showed me that Yai's sister was his only source of light living in that isolated house.

It showed me the warmth Yai felt from Mangkorn's mom.

And it showed me that no matter how much he protested, Yai was deep in love.

And to think it all started here.

And ended up here.

That's the power of color coding and remarkable visuals.

It makes you see the beauty is in the details.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be. 

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant. 

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace. 

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you. 

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?” 

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry 

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read. 

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once. 

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now. 

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time. 

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door. 

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie. 

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches. 

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door. 

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes. 

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”

[luveline]

spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below

please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression? 

You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?" 

He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong." 

"Something looks wrong." 

You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice. 

"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile." 

He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy." 

"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?" 

"Gabs?" he asks. 

"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it." 

You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met. 

"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?" 

"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange. 

"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air. 

"Am I being weird?" he asks.

"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?" 

"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk." 

"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?" 

You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too. 

"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?" 

"I'm okay. I just feel strange." 

"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card." 

Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far. 

"Hm?" you hum in question. 

Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?" 

The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting. 

"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms. 

Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.

It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing. 

"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.

He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.

"Was it scary?" 

"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair. 

"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?" 

"Yeah, he did." 

"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?" 

"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you." 

You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you." 

You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you. 

You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years. 

"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?" 

"She's in her room. Call her." 

You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner. 

"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove. 

You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared. 

"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!" 

"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her. 

He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him. 

"Woah, careful." 

"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late." 

"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long." 

Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.  

"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers. 

"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back. 

Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back. 

"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home." 

"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says. 

You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital. 

"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella. 

She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!" 

"Well, come and sit. What mug?" 

Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.

"You're having some too, right?" he asks you. 

"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot." 

Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness. 

She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?" 

Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot. 

"What?" he asks.

"You're not doing the thing." 

"The thing?" 

You frown. 

"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses." 

He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia. 

He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after. 

Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!" 

"Blow in her ear," you mouth. 

He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm. 

When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it. 

You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?" 

"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks. 

"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke." 

"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low. 

"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel. 

"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up." 

You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?" 

Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks. 

"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure. 

His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry." 

"For what?" You blink. 

"I don't know." 

You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?" 

He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off. 

"You're really something special," he says quietly. 

"How so?" 

His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you." 

"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features. 

"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time. 

You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love. 

"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?" 

"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad." 

"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.  

"I must have some good luck," he says. 

His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness. 

You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to. 

"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–" 

Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time. 

It's not a bad kiss. 

You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin. 

The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him. 

"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers. 

He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time. 

"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear." 

"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included." 

He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?" 

You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

a few words. l Joel Miller

Summary: words he didn't want you to hear

Warnings:  angst, unpleasant conversation, they move away from each other

A/N: nothing special. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

Tommy looked at his brother as if he was seeing him for the first time in his life. He hadn't expected this and was slowly regretting that he had shown up at the stables with a few bottles of beer that evening.

"You can't be fucking serious." he finally said.

The man who was sitting on a haystack by the wall seemed exhausted. His brown eyes were fixed on the horse in the opposite stall, the bottle in his big hands still full of beer.

"You slept with her?" Joel looked at him surprised. "What? Simple question. Did you sleep with her or not?"

Joel shook his head. "No."

"But you wish you did."

He looked down, but he couldn't lie to someone who knew him so well. Of course he thought about it. Most often when he was alone in the dark bedroom. Memories of every kiss, tender touch, moments when he held you in his arms - all of these haunted him like ghosts.

He was furious because he wanted more. He wanted to be alive again, to feel again. But should he?

"Joel, you've known each other for years, you live together. Why are you messing with her head if you don't want anything to do with her?"

"It's not like that, Tommy..." his voice was tired, barely audible. "Everything's different with her."

"So why don't you want to give it a chance?" Tommy took a sip of beer. "I don't get it. If you want to be with her, then be. Tell her how you feel and..."

"I'm too old for this!" Joel snapped. "She deserves better, and I can't give it to her."

"Bullshit!" Tommy muttered.

There was silence for a moment. The distant noises of the city settling in for the night drifted through the open stable door. Tommy sat down next to his brother, resting his arms on his knees.

"She's a really nice girl," he said. "I see how she looks at you, cares about you and Ellie. Do you really want to break her heart like that?"

"She's tough."

"Yes, she is."

"Are you going out?"

You were just putting a thermos with a hot drink and a couple of sandwiches into your backpack, you didn't even look up when Joel went down to the kitchen in the morning.

"Yeah. I'm going on patrol." you answered.

Joel frowned. "Our turn is tomorrow."

"I swapped with Paul. He'll go with you. You two get along."

An unpleasant shiver ran down his spine, his heart sped up. The backpack was almost ready, and you didn't seem in the mood for long conversations.

"I'd rather go with you." he grumbled, coming closer and clenching his hands on the back of the chair.

"A change will do you good. It'll do us good too."

"Have you talked to Tommy about this?"

You slung your backpack over your shoulder and looked him in the eye for the first time. He saw something strange in that look. A mixture of sadness, anger, and some kind of severity. You hadn't looked at him like that before.

"You'll probably talk to him yourself, right?" you said "I think..." your voice broke for a moment, but you quickly got back on track. "I think when I get back I'll ask Maria to find me another place to live."

"W-What? Why?"

"We both know why."

You adjusted your backpack and left the house. The world you had built had just collapsed.

"What the fuck was I supposed to do?"

"You could have not let her go!"

"She's an adult, Joel! She came last night, said she had already talked to Paul. I couldn't say no to her." Tommy put the crate in the storage room and looked at Joel.

He could see that his brother was furious and distraught. You usually went on patrols together, Joel didn't like you going out alone. Although he knew you would manage, he didn't fully trust others. Now he had completely lost control over anything.

Tommy looked at him with pity. "I think she must have heard us yesterday. Maria saw her in town, she was upset. Then she showed up at our place. I didn't ask, it's none of my business."

"You could have stopped her." Joel repeated quietly.

"And you could have kept her with you. But you chose not to."

He could.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist

[undead-supernova]

Bullshit! / Masterlist / 18+

part 1 / part 3

Playlist

pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

plot: eddie runs into you unexpectedly and you think it's time to have that date a little early

contains: eddie lacking confidence, confident!reader, get to know Eddie and the reader a little better, making out, kids this is a bit more than pg-13 I'll tell you that much without spoiling it

note: sorry guys, I'm not done with this. maybe far from it. they have a dynamic unlike any other and I'm here for it.

wc: 4k

The library was maybe the last place Eddie wanted to be at one in the afternoon on a Tuesday. It was always overcrowded, riddled with students running around with coffee from the adjoining Starbucks. 

But Eddie needed a new book, having told himself that rereading The Hobbit the third time this semester was…unnecessary. Plus, his English professor told him that “we can only enact change ourselves.” 

Maybe it was a sign. Because as Eddie passed the large glass windows, he saw you sitting at one of the booths.

You looked different from every Saturday night. No makeup, hardly any jewelry except for a thin gold necklace and several rings. An oversized sweatshirt and, from his vantage point, you were wearing a pleated skirt. He even noticed that your high-top Converse were placed next to you, mismatched patterned socks adorning your feet. 

And, fuck, Eddie couldn’t help the excitement rising inside him. It should’ve embarrassed him when he started jogging towards the front door, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. All he could think about was the sound of your voice and your eyes and your touch and your kiss.

He slowed his pace as he walked past the printers and computers and found your head down in some textbook, blissfully unaware.

“Working hard or hardly working?” he asked.

And when you looked up and smiled, he could’ve sworn his heart swelled and burst like a goddamn balloon.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” you exclaimed, jumping up to give him a hug. “What the fuck are you doing here!”

It was only for a few seconds, but he couldn’t resist breathing in your intoxicating perfume and memorizing the feel of you. The curve of your back, the soft fabric of your sweatshirt scratching against his calloused fingertips.

And as you sat back down, he realized quickly why your mere touch was so alluring. It was a reminder that Saturday had been real and, on this grueling Tuesday, you still cared about his existence. You still noticed him.

“I was coming to look for something new to read,” he answered, trying to figure out what to do with his hands and failing. “What about you?”

Eddie couldn’t decipher your now raised eyebrow, watching as you lifted your pointer finger. “Sit down,” you nearly demanded, eyes flickering from him to the booth. His heart hammered in his chest as he complied, eyeing your finger following his movements. 

It was despicable how easy it was for you to get him to do whatever you wanted. Even just fucking sitting down. But he loved it. Every. Fucking. Second.

“I was in the stacks looking at the archives,” you explained. “But everyone in my class took them already.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Such bitches.”

“How rude,” Eddie said, all teasing with an amused smile.

He could tell you liked it, biting your lip slightly before playing along. “I know, it’s offensive.”

There was something he noticed in your expression, placing your lip back between your teeth as you scanned him up and down. Eddie was unable to keep a smile off his face, overwhelmed by the attention you gave him. Like he was a meal, but something to be savored rather than merely devoured.

He couldn’t help it when he returned the sentiment, glancing down at your skirt that was riding further and further up your thighs. It wasn’t the time to think about you like that, spread wide for him as he got on all fours. Having you barking commands at him to do it properly, rewarding him with endless praise once you deemed it good enough.

Your thighs parted just a bit more, head tilting to the side as you gave him a smirk. As if you knew exactly where his thoughts were and wanted him to keep going. And, wow, were you two really just eye-fucking each other in the library?

“Want some coffee?” he asked, trying to distract himself. Practically flinching, pulling himself back from the table. “I was gonna head to Starbucks afterwards.”

The sexual tension broke at the question and he watched as you fiddled with your pen. But you didn’t flounder like he did. He wondered if you ever could. 

“Yeah, I’d love to. I have to finish something up but—”

“Oh, I’ll go by myself,” he offered.

“You sure?” you asked, clearly surprised.

“Yeah, no biggie,” he assured you, standing up.

Expression turning a bit sheepish, you said, “I will warn you… My order is complicated.”

He shrugged. “Hit me.”

And the order wasn’t complicated, per se. Eddie just wanted to know how the hell had you come up with a “dirty iced chai with oat milk and two pumps of cinnamon dolce”. Regardless, Eddie tucked that into his Notes app for later. If there was a later.

After grabbing himself a large black coffee and the concoction you'd asked for, he made his way back over to you. Rounding the corner, he noticed the way you moved back and forth between a book and your laptop, sighing and mumbling something to yourself. But as if you could sense him, you turned and watched him approach, a smile appearing on your lips.

“Oh, a Venti, huh?” you teased, making grabbing motions at him anyways.

He shrugged, sitting back down. “You deserve it.”

“You know what? You’re right.” You took it from his hand, taking a long sip. “I hate Starbucks coffee,” you said, licking your lips. “It’s awful. But this is the best thing on the menu, so thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Eddie hoped you couldn’t see him blush. "I hate it, too. It's just the only thing we got." 

“God, I know. Also, I can Venmo you or—"

“Absolutely not,” he interrupted, waving you away. 

“Okay,” you conceded, not bothering to argue further. Just took another sip and sat back. Glanced out the window before back at him. “Wanna go on that date today?”

“Today?” he asked, nearly gobsmacked.

Nervousness ran along his limbs, not fully prepared to be with you. Alone. Just the two of you. It’d taken him hours to go to bed after dropping you off the other night. Any time he thought he was done masturbating, it just came with another round. Like a goddamn creep.

“Why not?”

“Aren’t you doing research?” he asked, feeling his face grow hot.

And if you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it.

“Oh my god, I would rather die than look at this shit any longer. I’ve been here since eight.” You paused before throwing a hand over your face. “Unless you’re busy. Sorry I didn’t ask first.”

“No, no. I’m free,” he lied, deciding at that moment to skip his class. He’d catch up on Algebra with his tutor—it’s not like he paid attention anyways. That damn tutor was the only reason he understood a fraction of it. Pun absolutely intended. 

And he swore you nearly jumped up, grabbing your shoes and shoving them on before packing up your backpack, the weight of it starting to look daunting. Book after book, plus your laptop and pencil case and…

Without thought, Eddie grabbed it for you, slinging it over his shoulder. Fuck, it was heavy. “Here, I got it.”

You stared up at him, clearly shocked. “Oh, you sure?”

But Eddie gave you a smile and gestured towards the window with his head. “Yeah, come on. I’ll drive.”

By all accounts, Eddie was actually…sweet. It was nearly sickening how sweet he could be, carrying your backpack for you and opening the car door (despite it being a stalker van). Asking what music you liked to listen to—everything, was the answer. And you didn’t just like every genre, you loved it— Fiddling with the air conditioning and telling you to change it if you get too hot or too cold. Asking if his music was too loud, asking how you were doing now, away from your books.

You were starting to find him ridiculously intriguing, unsure how to take his kindness. It wasn’t a bad thing by any means. You just…weren’t used to a man being so considerate of your feelings. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t think you deserved it—that was obvious every time a man got a little too close for comfort and you had to humiliate them. 

But there was just something that felt new about Eddie. When he’d approached you at the party, you sized him up like every other guy shooting their shot. But he caught your eye immediately when he stumbled over his words. And when a jolt seized your veins at that first touch on his arm, you knew you were hooked. 

You’d gone to bed that night with a smile on your face, softly licking along your lips to savor the lingering taste of Eddie’s mouth. It was tinged with beer, something you used to hate. Something you now loved, thoughts echoing one word:

New.

Eddie helped you out of the car once he’d parked, even insisting that you let him get it for you. It made you feel quite warm in the face, surprised by his assertion. Made you feel like a lady, something you hadn’t ever felt at the hands of a man.

As you moved through the museum, you were quiet, whispering now and then about certain art styles and their importance during their corresponding time periods. And you were glad that Eddie wasn’t a douchebag about noise level inside a museum.

He never interrupted, never poked fun at your intelligence. He’d even asked more questions, all hushed and contained, some even you didn’t know the answer to. Pocketing them for later to ask your professors. 

But Eddie rarely gave up any information about himself, leaving you to tap his foot with yours and ask him questions. Every time, his face got hot and he murmured responses with a shrug, as if he didn’t think it was anything special. 

How was it not? He was still undecided, having dreams of working on video games and helping direct the narratives in new and innovative ways to engage with the player more. You didn’t know much about video games, but you still listened. Still gave him the attention he’d given you. It wasn’t even hard—he was so animated once he got into something he was passionate about. It was endearing, actually.

You ended up sitting down on one of the benches together, staring at an abstract painting by an artist you’d never heard of. 

“Do you like abstract?” you asked him, whispering despite the empty room.

Eddie shrugged, eyes trained on the swirling colors. “I think so? I mean, it’s cool to look at. I just don’t really know what I’m looking for. Or what I’m looking at, for that matter.”

That brought a smile to your face. His statement wasn’t judgmental or dismissive. It was…pensive. Contemplative. 

“I think of it like music,” you said. “The different colors and movements are like different instruments. They’re all separate but they come together to make something magical.”

For emphasis, you leaned in closer to him, your face and shoulder fully pressed against him. Raised your arm to point at the sharp flicks of red hurling towards the top right of the canvas. You could’ve sworn you heard Eddie suck in a breath, having to suppress a smirk at the effect you had over him. 

“That’s like a trumpet, bright and loud. Furious in nature but soaring off the page.” Then you pointed toward the royal blue splatters, more round than some of the other scattered pigments. “And this is like, oh, I don’t know. I guess, a trombone. Low and sultry. Rounded. Keeping everything together.”

Eddie turned his head, your noses nearly touching. You couldn’t help the shiver running down your neck at the tickling sensation you got from his hair. A smile you hadn’t seen before enveloped his face as you made eye contact.

“So, you’re saying it’s like jazz.”

A breathy laugh left your lips, finding yourself intimidated by his pointed gaze. By the way you could study the rich brown in his eyes, all bright and energized despite his calm demeanor. The stubble rising from his pores, all scratchy and wicked. 

“Well, uh,” you murmured, surprised by your inability to form words. “It doesn’t have to be, but, um, I guess this one made me think of jazz. The way it kinda…” your voice trailed off as he seemingly leaned in further, his scent like smoke fogging your senses. “It’s not so rigid. It’s improv. It’s, um…”

“Varied?” he offered, his smile growing. “Unique?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Eddie let out a hum. “I think I get it now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s beautiful.”

For once, you had to look away, back at the painting to try and control your breathing. There were flashes of things you wanted to do, both tender and wildly too inappropriate for the setting. Things you wanted beyond physicality, beyond the limits you’d always set for yourself.

And as if he could hear the pounding of your heart, his fingertips touched yours. Slowly weaved his fingers through the spaces left open. Took a piece of your heart with him.

Eddie might not be exactly forward with his actions, but he knew what he wanted. All you could do was squeeze his hand and hope that one day you’d get to see him in full bloom. 

“Why do you do that thing?” you asked.

Eddie glanced over at you, one hand on the steering wheel. The other fiddled with a hole in his pants, needing something to grasp onto. His heart rate just started to slow down, giving him a chance to breathe. 

There was just something about you that drove him mad.

“What thing?”

“Act like you’re not interesting.”

Sheepishly, Eddie shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know. I guess it’s ‘cause you’re way more interesting than me.”

“Bullshit,” you said sternly, a scoff leaving your lips.

“What!” he exclaimed, looking over at you again. “It’s true.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “You highly underestimate yourself.”

Eddie snorted. “I’m a stereotype.”

“Bullshit,” you repeated, starting to sound genuinely frustrated. “Who the hell told you that?”

He didn’t know where to start. 

Being a loser wasn’t a big deal for him in high school. Grew up with his father’s reputation preceding him. Got through it the best he could with some awesome friends along the way. Finally graduated high school and raised his GPA enough to come here. It was simple. In his mind, he was simple.

But spending the latter half of summer, the one he dared never to speak of, without his friends and then coming here without anyone else… Well, he struggled to find anyone willing to be his friend. He tried. Really, he did. But it never came to fruition.

And what was more embarrassing than joining a D&D club before being told he didn’t belong within the first hour? Him, the DM of Hawkins, hell, Indiana, being told he didn’t belong. That he didn’t play right. That he just didn’t fit.

He spent so much time alone. It was starting to make him miss Hawkins, the nostalgia starting to kick in. Hawkins, the place he loathed. The place he wanted nothing to do with. 

He was a nineteen-year-old Freshman with no friends and an undecided future.  

His silence must’ve lasted longer than he thought because you pointed at the nearly empty Walmart parking lot and asked, “Actually, would you pull in for a sec?”

“Yeah, of course,” he responded, heading towards the very back row, far from any remaining cars. Giving the two of you privacy just in case you started to yell at him for being a loser or something. He didn’t know. You were just so unpredictable.

But once he parked, you were unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing his chin. Squished the bottom of his cheeks in one hand as you pulled his face closer to yours. He must’ve stopped breathing, hands slipping from the steering wheel.

“You better start listening to me, Eddie,” you breathed, all low and sensual, moving your lips to barely graze his bottom lip. “I really don’t like you talking about yourself like that.”

Eddie could feel sweat collecting beneath his bangs as you continued your torture, raking your fingernails down his throat before wrapping your hand around it. He gasped, earning a small smile out of you.

“I don’t waste my time with boring people, as conceited as that sounds,” you continued, the left corner of your mouth lifting. Eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips, eyelashes fluttering with each micromovement. “But I never claimed to be the nicest person, did I?” Eddie still wouldn’t speak. He didn’t know if he could without moaning. “You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve met. And the nicest, which is probably more than I deserve. You’ve seen the way I treat other men.”

“They deserved it,” he whispered, feeling his cock twitch when your grip tightened. “Every one of them.”

“Yeah, they did,” you replied, raising the pitch of your voice. Like you were taunting him. “But you’re different, aren’t you?”

“I-I am?”

“You’re sweet,” you breathed, giving slow kisses to his cheeks. Giggling when you noticed the blood rushing into them so rapidly. “And you’re a real nice guy, you know that?”

“I, uh, I try to be,” he stumbled as you moved your lips past his jaw and against his ear. Went limp at the feeling of you biting the lobe, fanning your breath over it.

“You do such an excellent job,” you whispered. “So nice and kind and funny. You really get me going, Eddie. I didn’t think I’d be so affected by you.”

When you pulled back to face him, you chuckled. He couldn’t blame you. His eyes must’ve been popping out of his head, mouth agape at your pretty words. What was even more fucked up was how genuine you sounded, like you weren’t just saying these things to say them. You meant it.

“I thought about you a lot this weekend,” you said breathily, removing your hand from his neck to start coiling his hair around your finger.

“Me?”

“You,” you said with a nod.

He licked his lips. “W-what about me?”

“About how interesting you are. And not to get too vulgar,” you said with a giggle, all teasing and devilish. “But I couldn’t help but think about taking your cock down my throat.” Another giggle as you tapped your fingers along his collarbone. “Thought about what it looks like, if it’s half as pretty as you.”

Eddie couldn’t stop the way his cock strained against his jeans, the neverending praise overwhelming him. “T-thank you,” he responded, unable to suppress the whine that he’d tried to contain when your other hand began palming him over his jeans. 

“You, um,” he tried to continue, taking a deep breath through his nose to keep his composure. “I-if you want, you can. Anytime. Any time.” 

“It’d be so easy like this, you know,” you nearly purred. “To ride you, to leave you a blubbering mess and thanking me for taking care of you. I think you’d really, really like that.”

“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he groaned, fingers now reaching out to white-knuckle the steering wheel. 

“Am I wrong?”

A tiny scoff left his lips as you nearly massaged his cock, knowing that if you didn’t stop soon, he was going to burst. “You already know the answer to that.”

“I want to hear it, Eddie.” You nipped his neck, causing him to jump a little. But you wouldn’t stop, whispering filthy words as you continued to mark him. “I want to hear you tell me how good it would feel for me to suck you dry.” He continued to nod, each word sending him further into the deep end. “Before getting you hard again, just ‘cause I can, and getting on top so I can milk you with my pussy.” He moaned at your vulgarity. “Which is dripping, by the way.”

Without any warning, Eddie was cumming, an explosive rush that had him twitching and jerking. Panting and dry mouthed. You didn’t remove your hand, merely chuckling and rubbing him through his jeans until he was able to breathe normally again.

Before Eddie could get the chance to apologize for his behavior, you were pulling him in with an agonizingly slow kiss, your fingers damp from the cum seeping through his jeans. 

You tugged at his lower lip with your teeth before letting out a hum. Gazed up into his puppy dog eyes and said, “Good boy.”

After a few moments of Eddie being able to think clearly again, you found your eyes wandering around his console before settling on a pack of cigarettes. 

“You smoke?” you asked, plucking them from the cupholder and shaking the box in front of his face.

He nodded, seemingly quiet despite what transpired. “Want one?”

“Absolutely,” you responded, quick to take two out and hand one over. Watched him roll the windows down. Even went so far as to light both cigarettes for you like a gentleman. 

You knew he was still coming down from that high. It wasn’t like you could judge when the wetness collecting between your thighs was probably staining the carseat. It took everything in you not to beg him to take you right then and there. But you were a lady (of sorts) and as a lady, you were content with saving yourself for another day.

Besides, it was nice to see him so calm now. Like a weight had been lifted, if only for a moment. It was still a moment.

“Post-nut clarity cigarette,” you joked, taking a slow drag and glancing out at the afternoon sun. 

“Was that…not embarrassing?”

That was when you realized what was happening.

“Are you kidding me? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you said truthfully. 

“I’m sure it’s totally hot,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Ah, yes. You supposed it was embarrassing for a guy to have creamed his pants without so much as a kiss. But that didn’t bother you at all. You knew it would be different once you were alone, edging him until he was begging you for more. Nothing would make you happier.

You ignored him. “You know, if you want us to go any further, you’re gonna have to earn it,” you said plainly, checking over your nails to make sure the paint hadn’t chipped too bad.  

“How?”

“Once you learn to be nice to yourself.” You shrugged before glancing back over at his wide-eyed expression. “I know there’s something more to you than what you think of yourself. I saw it at the party and I’m seeing it now. You just have to see that, Eddie. That’s really all there is to it.”

Eddie’s lips seemed to form a pout before he took a few hearty puffs, the smoke billowing around you. Looked around. Looked down at his lap. Looked back up at you. Mumbled, “So I can’t, like, go down on you right now?”

A laugh surged out of you so quickly that you started coughing. You waved him away when his concern sounded, ending up laughing harder before you could contain yourself.

“As much as I’d love to give you the privilege of eating me out right now, I think it’s best to wait until you’ve shown some improvement.”

“So there’s a chance?” he asked. 

You leaned back in towards his face, opening his mouth with your thumb. Taking another drag, you put your lips to his and blew the smoke into his mouth. Felt him breathe it in before letting it out through his nose. 

You smirked. “If you’re desperate for a piece of me, you could always lap up what I left behind on your car seat.”

He groaned, taking a deep breath while rolling his eyes. “God, you’re a fucking menace.”

“Honey, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

as per usual, thanks to @strangergraphics for letting me use her dividers and looking over my work hehehe

[thebisexualdogdad]

Smutober day 21: Lena Luthor x Male!reader - Devious

You stopped by L-corp with the intention of bringing your girlfriend lunch but instead you ended up making out with her on the couch in her office.

“Love, I have an important meeting I can't be late for,” Lena says, reluctantly pulling away from your embrace.

“Is it a virtual meeting?” You ask not ready to leave her just yet.

“Yes, with investors from all over the country and it starts in five minutes,” she tells you, getting up from the couch and flattening out her hair along with checking her lipstick in the mirror to make sure she looked presentable.

“You know I love to watch you work, I'll sit here quietly you'll forget I'm even here,” you say innocently.

Part of Lena knew you were up to something but as she was sitting at her desk and logging onto the meeting she didn't really have time to investigate.

You sit on the couch, listening as she says her hellos to everyone on the call.

She begins her presentation and at first you do as you said you would and stay silent but after a few minutes you slowly get up, walking towards Lena who glances up at you but suddenly you're crawling under her desk.

Lena gulps when she feels your hands running up and down her legs which are exposed thanks to the dress she is wearing.

She tries to collect herself but then your planting gentle kisses up her calves and to her thighs.

“Are you alright Ms. Luthor?” Someone on the call asks.

“Yes I'm alright,” she nods, continuing her speech.

You pull her dress up and spread her legs apart, gently kissing her clit through her underwear, her hips uncontrollably buck into your touch.

She's already a little wet from your previous makeout session and you can taste her arousal seeping through the material of her underwear as you lay your tongue flat against her.

Her grip on her mouse is tight, accidently clicking to fast forward to the next slide.

“My apologies, let's go back for a moment,” she says, literally biting her tongue when you pull her underwear to the side.

Her thighs try to clench around your head so you have to hold them spread open as you lick different patterns across her pussy.

The investors are asking her questions about the new tech product she's pitching them and she's doing her best to answer them in full coherent sentences.

When you push the hood back to swirl your tongue around her clit directly she inadvertently knocks a notepad off her desk.

“Oh my, I guess I’m feeling a little under the weather today,” Lena chuckles awkwardly.

“Would you like to reschedule the rest of the presentation Ms Luthor?” someone asks.

“No no, we are over half way done we should see this through,” she says partially talking about the presentation but more importantly talking about her impending orgasm.

She tries to subtly throw her leg over your shoulder, giving you even better access to her.

Your tongue plunges inside her, Lena doing her best going forward with her pitch.

Her wetness coats your chin, your nose nudging her clit bringing her so close to her release.

Her pussy is pulsing around your tongue and you know she's about to cum but you've also heard this presentation multiple times as you were her practice audience so you know she's reaching its climax.

She digs her nails into her desk in frustration when your tongue disappears, taunting her by kissing her pussy, Lena nudging you with her knee to get you back to what you were doing.

You continue to tease her by making long slow strokes with your tongue but it's not enough to bring her over the edge.

Soon you hear a sentence you recognize as one of her closing statements so you dive back in, licking her in a fast steady way you know drives her wild.

She quickly wraps up the meeting, saying her goodbyes and slamming her laptop shut, letting out the guttural moan she had been holding in for the last hour.

Lena doesn't hold back, moaning so loudly as she cums on your tongue.

“Oh how devious,” she scolds, coming down from her high.

“I thought you could use a little motivation,” you smirk, looking up at her and locking eyes as you wipe away her cum off your mouth with the back of your hand.

“I am so getting you back for this,” she smiles.

[jasscheeks]

haikyuu; the pretty setters

how would they react if you spent the whole day together, then had to go home?

pairings: oikawa, suga, kenma, kageyama, akaashi, atsumu x f!reader

kenma’s part is my favorite omg <3

warnings: ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP, small mentions of seggs in akaashi’s, they all think the two of you should just move in tgt, slight begging and sulking

masterlist | ao3

pretty spiker edition.

OIKAWA knows what time it is, and he sees you glancing at the clock. he hates to see you leave because that means no more cuddles and no late-night talks when the both of you can't go to sleep. he knows it'll be a while before you visit again, and he just can't go without you. at this point, you should just move in with him. he physically cannot be without you for prolonged periods, plus, it would make his day a hundred times better coming home to you.

so as you're walking towards the door after giving him his goodbye kiss, he pulls you in from your waist, making you skid to a stop. "can't you stay for a little longer? i'll get really lonely if you leave," he whined, his chin pressed onto your shoulder as he held you tight against his chest.

"tooru, you know i can't," you try to pry him off of you but he's as tough as a rock, "you have practice, ugh, i have...school—tooru, do you really have to hold me this tight?" you tried to squeeze yourself from his grip, but he truly wasn't budging.

"you'll leave if i don't!" he insisted, but even then you found yourself still walking towards his door as he followed you along. “just a few more minutes, no one more second, please (y/n)!” he was trying his damned hardest to keep you in one place.

but seeing as you weren’t giving up, he loosened his grip on you, letting you open his front door. even as you turned to give him one more kiss goodbye he was still blabbering about you staying over. and expect an “i miss you” or “did you make it home safely?” text when you get home.

SUGAWARA is sulky about it, dramatic even. he's trying all he can to convince you to stay, from bribing you with all the food he can afford, his hugs and kisses, to smothering you against his body. but you're adamant about going home, even as you still lay in his arms.

"you hate me," he whined, as he shifted his weight on top of you. "my girlfriend hates me..." he may have had a few drinks that night, that'll explain his unusual clinginess. but even without the alcohol, this is more or less how he acts when you're leaving.

"i have a class in the morning, you know this," he groaned more hearing such a serious answer, it not containing the words he wanted to hear. "and i don't hate you, suga," you ended with a peck to his lips before pulling his comforter down so you could slip out.

he whined once more, quickly pulling the covers back over the two of you. "then i'll go with you, i'll even take notes for you," he slurred before snuggling back into your neck. his strong arms tugged you back against him, confining you against the soft sheets beneath you and this cage of his. "i'll be the best note-taker there is..."

as soon as he settled himself in with his face buried deep into your neck, you knew you weren't going to be moving around any time soon.

KAGEYAMA wants to tell you he hates when you have to leave. but as he watched you slip your socks back on from the comfort of his bed, he was at war with himself. debating if he should express that to you, he was scared he'd come off as clingy, that you'd still leave even if he said it.

as a fairly new couple, he was still adjusting to speaking up when something was on his mind. he knows he'll see you tomorrow, but he can't help but want to spend more time with you today.

he knew you both had different things to do in the morning, but who says you couldn't get ready for them together? "do you have everything?" he asked, as you stopped next to his nightstand. as soon as you looked at him he was hoping you'd drop everything to stay just by the look he was giving you. "i can bring whatever you leave with me."

but instead, you smiled his way before stepping towards him. instinctively, he was leaning into your palm, hand grazing over your waist receiving the sweet kiss you place on his forehead. "i'd like that, thank you so much, tobio," you chuckled at his robotic 'your welcome,' that followed. soon he was leading you towards his front door, praying to himself that you'd change your mind as you passed all his furniture.

but seeing as you turned to kiss him goodbye, you were set on leaving. so as he was hesitating unlocking the door, he turned to your confused face asking so quietly, "do you think you can spend the night instead?"

and much to his surprise, you giggled out a response, "i thought you'd never ask.”

KENMA is confused when you suddenly lift from his lap and step over his legs. he can hear you shuffling behind him, causing him to pause whatever game he's playing to turn his chair to face you. he watches as you search his room for something, "is something wrong, am i too loud?" he asked.

you pause, your bag in hand now, "oh no, it's not that," you smile at his concern. "it's almost seven babe, i need to start heading back home."

just hearing you say that makes him even more confused. he tilts his head just slightly, something he doesn't realize he does, "home?" he repeats, his eyes looking around the room and spotting all the little things that belonged to you scattered about.

you'd been staying with him for a little over a week, and he was starting to think you were staying for good. the two of you always joked that you'd end up staying here for so long, you'd forget that you even have your own apartment. even when you went out on errands, you’d return to his house like you lived there, kissing him hello and continuing onto the kitchen to cook something for the both of you. his apartment was your second home, and he secretly wanted it to be your permanent home.

so reluctantly he walked you to the door, sad hands wrapping around your warm frame to engulf you in a hug before he kissed you goodbye, something he hadn’t done in a while. "i love you," the two of you murmured to each other, those three words somehow making it even harder to part. and as he sat back in his gaming chair, not an hour went by that he began to miss the feeling of you in his arms. he missed your lips pressing against his every so often and your quiet snores when you fell asleep on him. he made it a point to bring up moving in together next time you're over.

AKAASHI’s fast asleep tuckered out from loving on you for hours on end. you’re close to curling back up against him and just going back to sleep, but you catch a glimpse of his alarm. it read 11:28 PM, meaning you needed to get back home.

but his arms wrap around you even tighter, pulling you even closer to his chest when he feels you moving.

“where are you going?” he asked, snuggling farther into your neck. his voice is raspy, low enough to make you stop moving. he presses his bare chest into your back as he takes in a whiff of your scent, sending chills down your back. half of you wanted to just sink back into his warmth, finding his strong arms way more comfortable than your bed back at home

you trailed your fingers over his hands, his skin soft and smooth. “keiji,” you coo, your voice sounding so sultry and soft. “it’s late, babe, i need to get back home i have work in the morning,” he hummed hearing your reply. but instead of letting go, he just cuddled deeper into you, his lips absentmindedly pressing into your bare shoulder.

he sat there, breathing so softly that you thought he had slipped back to sleep. but instead, he hummed once more, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. “i don’t want you out when it’s dark, love,” he murmured in that deep sleepy voice of his before he was cuddling back into you. “i can take you back to your apartment in the morning.”

hearing his voice was enough to have you settled back into his arms, dozing off just as fast as you did before. but best know in the morning he was asking how moving in together sounded to you.

ATSUMU is in a mood when you suddenly get up from the comfort of his arms. he had just taken you on a date, and the two of you spent the whole day together going out to food stands and shops. but he couldn’t just leave it at that, no he wanted to spend the entire day and night with you.

so he had brought you back to his apartment, as he planned to keep the date going with a movie and possibly something more… but you didn’t catch his drift.

“(y/n), you’re breaking my heart right now.” he whined, sulking from the couch as you gathered your things. “you’ll be leaving your boyfriend with a broken heart, you know.”

you rolled your eyes at the comedic cadence in his voice. this was one of his things, one of his little moods that reoccurred every time you made a move to leave, “‘tsumu, we spent the whole day together! let me go home in peace just once, please?” you pleaded with him, but somehow that just made it worse.

“aren’t i your home? aren’t i your peace, babe?” he asked, putting a playfully, sassy lilt to his voice before he crossed his arms over his chest.

“oh my god, ‘tsumu…” you groan as you place a hand over your eyes, as he continues to sulk in the other direction. you sigh as you trudge yourself back to his dramatic self. you kneel on the couch, placing your hands on his cheeks, “you’ll see me later on tomorrow, i promise.” quickly you pecked his puckered lips, and he can feel himself slowly softening his glare just for you.

he was quick to break his sulking just to wrap his arms around you, pulling you down into his lap, your gleeful squealing filling his ears. “why can’t we just buy a place together already?”

after that, atsumu came back into the living room toting his laptop, so the two of you could look at apartments together until late into the night.

for all the people who read my suna ff, a part three is on the way i promise 😭

but thank you so much for reading!

masterlist

[verycoolusername1]

So American

Summary: Your boyfriend Nico had made time to see one of your concerts and you made sure to make it one to remember.

Nico Hischier x Singer!reader

Genre: Fluff!!

Warning: Contains romantic themes and mostly my terrible writing.

A/N: I LOVE THIS SONG so so much, and I hope I did Nico justice - this is my first time writing him, so I hope I did well! And I'm sorry for making them pop girlies, it's for the sake of this fic(and I'm extremely sorry for writing them all badly - I'm still learning. Once hockey season starts, I'll try to watch some games(if my attention span allows it))😭

And if you catch my stranger things and Dandelions(song by Ruth B) reference, I thrown in there, then I'll love you a lot.

If there are any grammatical errors, please let me know.

Hope you enjoy!!

To say you were nervous was an understatement. You have done performances before. You were on tour, after all. But something was different, your boyfriend Nico was here. And you didn't want to mess up, not even the slightest bit.

You tried to steady your breathing, and that was when the man of the hour appeared right in front of you. He greeted you instantly with a hug and a kiss on your temple, not wanting to anger your manager if he ruined your makeup even a tiny bit.

"Hi baby." He mumbled in your ear. "You look beautiful."

You chuckled in the hug and looked at him. A huge smile was plastered on his face. "Thanks, honey." You smiled. "It's nothing special."

"Nothing special?" Nico laughed. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen, Aphrodite could not compare."

"Nico." You dragged his name. "Stop it."

"No way!" Nico shook his head. "Not until you believe it."

"Nico, don't," you warned him. He looked back at you with a not so sorry look. He instantly started ticking your sides, making you laugh. "Babe stop!"

"I'll stop once you believe me." Nico looked at you with a stern look.

You continued to laugh even more before finally giving in to his demands. "Alright, I believe you." You panted. Nico planted his hands at your waist as if by memory.

"You're gonna do amazing." He whispered in your ear.

You smiled softly before asking. "Who else is here?"

"Just Luke, Jack, and Dougie. Everyone else is knocked out." He answered. "Jack wanted to come backstage with me. I told him no."

"And why did you do that, Mr. Hischeir?" You said playfully.

"Well, soon-to-be Y/N Hischeir, I wanted to see my partner before anyone else could." He answered honestly and in a serious tone.

You laid your head in his chest to ignore the giddy feeling you would get whenever he called you 'his partner.' Your stomach was doing flips, and he knew it. Before you could come up with a reply, your manager called your name telling you it was time. You gave Nico a warm smile, one that he had grown to adore as he dropped his hands from your waist.

"I'll see you later." You promised.

"Can't wait." He smiles as he makes his way back to the vip section.

You appeared on stage minutes later with a huge smile on your face. Your fans cheered loudly as they saw you and sang along to all the songs, making you laugh at how good they were. "I swear you guys are better at remembering my lyrics than me." You had joked.

The fans cheered in response, and you took a quick glance at the vip section, something you have been doing all night. When you caught Nico's eyes, he gave you a wave, and you smiled in response. Fans noticed this interaction began to cheer even louder. They haven't seen you this happy in a long time. But that all changed when you met Nico, now all you can ever really do is smile.

"Alright, uh, I know this is sudden, but I wanna try something." You picked up your guitar. "The next song is something that I wrote but never released." Your fans cheered in surprise of about to be hearing an unreleased song. "I like to think I wrote it too soon, and then I just forgot about it." You laughed.

"But tonight there is someone I really wanna dedicate this song to. I mean, I wrote it about you!" Your fans laughed as you shook your head with them.

"But yeah, you're special to me, and I love I have for you will only expand and as one in lyrics 'I see forever in your eyes' and that's completely true. I love you, and I know you know that, but I'll always be telling you that. Sometimes, you're like a poem I wish I wrote. Weird comparison, I know sue me!" You chuckled to yourself and made eye contact with Nico, who mouthed the three words back to you.

"Sorry for rambling. uh, this song is called 'So American', and I hope you like it." You began to play the familiar melody on your guitar and put your mouth near the microphone. "Drivin' on the right side road, he says I'm pretty wearing his clothes."

Your fans erupted with cheer as they realized it was a love song.

"He's like a poem I wish I wrote, I wish I wrote." You looked at Nico, smiling big as you sang your way into the chorus.

The fans cheered even louder, all having smiles on their faces.

"And he laughs at all my jokes, and he says I'm so american," You sang. "Oh, god, it's just not fair to him to make me feel this much."

Nico looked at you like you hung the moon with a huge smile on his face, a smile that he had recently gotten from you. Jack had only noticed a week ago when he said a bad(like really bad) joke, and the two of you held identical smiles while Nico pushed him in annoyance.

"They said they're gonna marry you, dude." Luke pushed Nico's shoulder playfully while Nico's face began to flush.

You began to sing the second verse which Nico didn't like as much. He could never find you annoying or rude, his fellow teammates laughed at his reaction.

"Dude, relax. They're just in love." Jack teased.

"I really love my bed, but man, it's hard to sleep when he's with me." You began to jump up and down. "When he's with me!"

You sang the chorus as Nico looked at you in adoration, and of course, his teammates singing the lyrics terribly wrong but tried their best even if they didn't know the song till a couple of minutes ago.

Dougie sang off key(like very off key). "I have no idea where he goes, and he says I'm so american."

Nico gave him a look, and he immediately shut his mouth. Jack tried to stifle his laugh but failed, Luke joining him as you sang the bridge.

"But ain't it love? Cause I'm in love." You smiled big as you sang the chorus one last time.

The crowd screamed at the top of their lungs as you sung the last bit of the song, you strung on your guitar more than what needed. Before officially ending the song and the concert.

"Thanks, New Jersey. You guys were so loud tonight, I love you all. Good night!" You yelled, the fans cheered and clapped in response.

You ran backstage, and after they took your mic pack off of you. You quickly went to your dressing room and changed into some comfortable clothes, removed your makeup, and undid your hair. Minutes later, there was knock at the door alongside hushed whispers.

"Come in!" You called. The door opened, revealing Nico and the guys. "Hey guys,"

Jack ran to you, shoving Nico aside and giving you a big hug. "You were amazing! Like the dancing, the songs, the puns, and the new song. It was so amazing!" He gushed.

"Thanks, Jack," you hugged him. "Seems like somebody missed me." You looked at Nico with a stern look.

"Of course I did, I was gonna come backstage, but then Nico was all like," Jack cleared his throat before doing the impression. "No, Jack, go back. You'll see them after the show, I get to see them first because I'm their -"

"Alright, I think they get it." Nico cut him off abruptly.

"Somebody's jealous." Dougie snickered.

"You sure it ain't you?" Luke asked.

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" Dougie looked at him with a questioning glare.

"Isn't it time you died?" Luke retorted. "You already hit 30."

"Alright, you two cut it out." You told them.

"Yeah, guys, cut it out." Jack rolls his eyes.

"Jack." Nico warned.

"Okay, bye, guys! It was nice seeing you Y/N." Jack pushed the two other adults out of the room, despite their protests of only seeing you for five minutes.

"I think we're alone now-" You were cut off by Nico caressing your face and kissing you with the most upmost passion. Nico then pulled you in a hug and held you tight perhaps even tighter than Jack.

"I love you so so much." Nico muttered in your ear.

"I love you too." You broke the hug to look at him.

"The song was so beautiful I mean wow." Nico gushed. "I honestly have no words."

"My eyes must be deceiving me, did I just make new jersey devils captain Nico Hischier speechless?" You taunted.

"Shut up." Nico kissed you again, with even more love than before.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

age gap reader please!!

Bruce watched you stir your coffee and smiled a little. He wasn't sure what you were reading this morning while you waited for him, but whatever it was you were deep into it.

And it was cute. There was a satisfaction to this- whatever this was. It felt different than some of his other relationships. Maybe it was because you were independent and used to being on your own. Or because you liked being low-key about it. Maybe it was just because you were... you. From the moment he met you there was a feeling; a warmth, and it had only intensified over time.

"Good morning, Princess," he hummed, helping himself to coffee and kissing your head.

"Good morning, Brucie," you answer, marking your spot in your book. "Did you sleep enough? You looked so tired-"

"I'm fine," he assured you, surveying your breakfast order. Noting that you'd been paying attention to his favorites because a lot of them were there. "You took good care of me-"

"You did all the work as I recall," you answer, feeling heated when he smirks at you.

Bruce took your free hand and kissed it, "It's not work when it comes to you," he assured you. "I think I felt better the moment I got here."

"Sweet talker," you pout.

He grinned and pulled you into his lap, "You should be sweet talked. And praised. And complimented. Every chance I get," he purred, kissing you softly. "You're beautiful. Exquisite, in fact."

"Brucie?"

"Hmm?" he answered, stroking your thigh.

"How are you this charming every morning? Five minutes ago you were dead asleep."

He chuckled, "I'm very motivated," he explained. "I don't get lazy mornings with you often enough. And I laid there for a few minutes, mostly wondering what you were reading."

"Nothing important," you tell him, kissing his cheek. But he doesn't miss that your smile falters and look away.

He cuddled you closer and stroked along your back, "What's wrong, Princess?" He reached over to pick up the book. It's thick. Heavy. And it seems like a sort of cliff notes version of history. And it makes him blink for a second. "That's a lot for a Saturday morning," he hummed.

"I just- studio school suck," you murmur. "And I get really tired of feeling stupid. So I just- mostly it's audiobooks. But-"

"Hey," Bruce said softly, tilting your chin up, "You're not stupid, baby. There's things you don't know because the adults in your life failed you. NOT because there's something wrong with you." He rubbed his thumbs along your cheeks lovingly and kissed your nose. "Read whatever you want. Learn whatever you want."

"I'm sorry, I just-"

"Don't be sorry," he said, laughing quietly. "Remember, I dropped out of school to party. You've been working since you were a baby. I'm not judging you for trying to know something. I respect it, a lot." He kissed you again and smiled, "And I think Audiobooks are a great idea."

"It's just nice on flights," you murmur.

"I'll have to try it out," he said smiling. "Who knows, maybe I can actually find a book that I like."

[ghostlychief]

Scary Dog Privilege

Pairing: one shot; Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Wc: 1,100+

Warnings: none; just some guy being annoying; fluff

Summary: Ghost being protective when you go to a bar

A/N: Ok, this idea for this drabble came about when i had a scary incident happen to me on public transportation. In the moment, i was thinking how nice would it be to have a large scary looking dog with me bc men always find a way to make you feel uncomfortable and scared. It really sucks that we have to turn towards other men to "protect" us because men don't take no for an answer or simply will just not leave us alone. But this is fantasy land, so I'll allow it this time.

Anyways, here is a short drabble lmao. Hope you enjoy! <3

-Lee

--

To say that Ghost had a staring problem, was a little inaccurate. It’s not like he was on one of the most skilled, and covert teams in existence or anything. He was trained to have a good eye, and follow his target with precision. It just so happened that whenever you two went out, you became his target, and stole away all his attention.

One way you liked to rewind after a mission was to go out drinking with your friends, or occasionally, squad 141. This was how you coped, let loose, hell, forget about all the terrible shit you saw on a daily basis. And seeing that Ghost was your boyfriend, he usually (always) tagged along with you when you went out.

Why did he come with you every time?

One might say he also wanted to blow off some steam, and what better way than alcohol? And for you, what better way than dancing, and being carefree with your friends?

Others might say that he couldn’t let you out of his sight. He was very conscious of his surroundings, and also the surroundings of everyone around him. Whenever you were in the same room as him, he always had his eye on you, following you, and knew your position within his proximity.

When you were out, whether it be at a bar, restaurant, store, he always slightly blocked you from the view in any doorway, always standing closest to it. Somewhat shielding you with his body.

He would slightly walk in front of you, hand stretched behind him to grasp yours when you were walking on the sidewalk. And of course, he always walked on the side closest to the cars, you were always in the inside of the sidewalk.

If by some chance you weren’t, he would wrap an arm around your shoulder and gently move you over; so now he was on the outside. He kept his arm around you though.

In restaurants, he always sat in the seat where he could see the whole room, and the entrance. You didn’t notice this at first, but on one of your dates when you initially starting dating, he sat in the booth seat. You joked and said, “Oh, usually that’s my spot.”

He didn’t get your reference and simply stated, “What? This is the spot where I can analyze the whole room in case something happens.”

You let him have the booth.

It was no different when you went out. His brooding stare and massive height and size deterred any man who even had the thought to approach you. And on top of that he was always sporting his black, half skull balaclava, which added on to the intimidation he exuded. Great for you, you think. The last thing you wanted to deal with was a random man.

Needless to say, you hated dealing with men while out. Especially drunk, pushy men. And there was always at least one during these occasions.

Tonight, everything was going smoothly, and just as planned, like your usual nights out. You were dancing, and having a good time with your friends, Ghost was somewhere in the near distance, and you didn’t have to look at him to know that his eyes were already on you. You might have thrown in a couple extra moves while dancing.

You seemed so carefree in this moment. All your troubles wiped clean from your face, your body relieving any tension it held. You moved to the beat of the music, drink in your hand. You were drunk by now, the full effects of alcohol finally hitting you.

Suddenly, you felt a hand grasp your waist. At first you thought it was your boyfriend, and you turned around smiling, but only to be met with a much shorter man, with no skull balaclava covering his face.

Immediately your lips turned down, and eyebrows furrowed. Your body flinched at the unfamiliar contact. Leaning away from the man, you waited to see what he wanted.

“Wanna dance?” His lips upturned as he asked this, and his grimy hand was still grasping your waist, and even started to move downward.

Bold move, you think.

“No, I’m good.” At your response, his friendly (more so creepy) smile vanished form his face and his brows started to furrow, signaling to you he was offended, shocked that you would ever reject him.

He started badgering you, trying to get you to dance, and you grew more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

“C’mon, just one dance.”

“What’s the harm?”

He also kept trying to touch you. Something you didn’t appreciate at all, and he wasn’t listening to your no’s.

All of a sudden you feel your body being tugged backwards until you hit a firm chest. Recognizing the smell of your boyfriend, you immediately relaxed into his embrace and place your hand on Ghost’s forearm that was holding you.

“She’s with me, fuck off.” Ghost’s rough voice cuts through the air.

The man’s face pales as he fully takes in Ghost’s presence. He lifts up his arms as if surrendering, then swiftly left, tail in between his legs.

Once he was out of sight, Ghost turned you around and brought up a hand to gently cup your face, tilting it upwards so you could look at him. His thumb rubbed back and forth on your jaw, soothing you.

“Are you alright?” His voice much softer than when telling off that man.

You sigh, “Yeah. Thank you, baby.”

You grant him a sweet smile and then wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

--

On your walk home, you’re holding Ghost’s hand, swinging your conjoined hands back and forth. Absentmindedly, you say, “You know, you kind of give off scary dog privilege.”

Ghost knows that you’re drunk right now, and he looks down at you to already find you beaming up at him.

“And what do you mean by ‘scary dog privilege’, hm?”

You start gesticulating with your other hand, “You know, if you own a big scary dog like a German shepherd, Rottweiler, Akita, etc., men are less likely to approach you or harass you; i.e., scary dog privilege.”

You hear him hum in acknowledgement and he squeezes your hand.

You bring you other hand up and rest it on his bicep, and lay your head against his shoulder, basically leaning on him as you continue to walk down the street.

“So, what kind of dog am I then?”

“Hmm. Definitely a Cane Corso. They’re known for being noble, intelligent, loyal and strong. All the things you are; but they are also low key the sweetest on the inside. Also like you.”

You feel him let out a brief laugh and he squeezes your hand again.

“Mm, thank you sweetheart.”

You smile against his shoulder and continue walking with him all the way home, the creepy man from before long forgotten.

--

masterlist

[devourable]

☾ the monster

sfw | tws : teratophilia, yandere behavior/thoughts, kidnapping?

yandere monster x gn reader! only pronoun for reader used is 'you'

the last of my male yanderes from the poll,, finally <3 tysm to my friend for helping me w this :,) this one goes out to all my monster lovers out there (aka me). his name isn't used in this fic but hes named mykolas!

also!! after this fic i'll be going on a short hiatus! i have to work a lot this week and won't have time/energy to write or draw. but i will still respond to messages and will answer asks when i return (or during the down time i do have if i can). i'll see you all soon! <3

the beast was lonely. he always had been, and figured he always would be.

he learned long ago that he wasn't something that people cared for. every attempt to interact with civilization was met with fear and vitriol, harsh reminders that he wasn't allowed to enjoy the company of others. every strange happening, every fool that went missing, every incident that the townsfolk couldn't explain was always blamed on him.

even the sign outside of his forest said it ; "keep away! the beast of rochshire wood lurks!". no one would dare to step foot in his domain.

so the day he discovered you in his woods, things changed.

what were you doing there, he wondered? you looked so content, so unafraid to be in his forest as you traveled from bush to bush, picking berries and uprooting a few edible plants to tuck them away in the basket you were carrying. did you not see the signs? weren’t you afraid?

despite his questions about your presence there, something drew the beast to you. he didn't feel the urge to hide himself away like he usually would when a human stumbled into his home. you… he felt you were different. you must’ve been unlike the others if you could just come along so casually like this.

the foliage he stood in rustled as he slowly approached you. somehow, you didn’t notice or feel his eyes on you despite how intensely he was observing you and continued with your activities at first. it wasn't until a stick loudly snapped under his step thay your head snapped in his direction.

your eyes widened as you locked them with the glowing white gaze of the hulking beast before you. he was massive! so big that the large antlers atop his head brushed against the branches above him. and the pitch black fur that the... thing was covered in did nothing but make it almost seem like an amorphous mass of muscle. he was unlike anything you'd ever seen before.

you wanted to be scared. you wanted to scream and run away, get out of the forest and return to the safety of your home. the rumors, the signs — they were all true! they weren't a joke like you assumed! but despite your brain screaming at you to get out of there, you just didn't. you were frozen in place, unable to move or even react as the creature slowly leaned down to you and...

sniffed you?

the strange chuffing sound caught you off guard, baffling you out of your frozen state. you blinked a few times and realized — it was definitely sniffing you. and it pulled away right after, taking a step or two back.

the monster was so desperate to not look like a threat to you. you were so lovely, you seemed so sweet, and you smelled nice! he didn't want to scare you away! with a sort of chirping noise, he laid his head to the ground in a bid to show you that he was harmless.

curiosity got the better of you. possibly against your better judgement, you took a step toward the beast. he lifted his head slightly as you slowly pressed your hand to what you could only assume was the creature's forehead. and sure enough, this earned a small trill from him.

you couldn't help the small laugh falling from your lips, which promptly got his massive tail wagging. you weren't scared! you were touching him! and it wasn't to hurt him! his heart was pounding so much that he practically vibrated with excitement. he sat back — unintentionally startling you, but thankfully not driving you away.

you tilted your head, slowly, to the left. the creature did the same, its massive antlers brushing against the branches over its head. you tilted your head to the right, and it followed suit. you raised a hand and sheepishly waved to the creature, and to your surprise, it waved back!

that was all he need to fall completely head over heels for you.

you were oblivious to his adoration for you, but you definitely weren't hating your time with him. he wasn't nearly as bad as the village made him out to be! so you didn't notice the time flying by as the monster herded you deeper into the forest (away from the way out), guiding you to the bushes with the best berries and the biggest patches of edible foliage. he seemed so happy to have company, it was so easy to convince yourself to stay longer.

every time you tried to go into a direction he didn't want you going in, he'd pick you up and set you back down in the way he wanted you to go. and you let him. you didn't have very much of a choice in the matter, but it was okay! so what if the sun was starting to set? he was filling your basket — you wouldn't have to shop for days after this. and every time you made even the slightest suggestion of having to go, he gave you those big, glowing puppy eyes that you just couldn't disappoint.

just a few more minutes and you'd leave, you told yourself. you said it even after your basket and pockets were well beyond their capacity. you said it when the shadows started growing and the sky grew even darker. you said it until the moon was overhead, and the path out of the forest was too obscured for you to find it again...

when you looked at the beast again, he offered you his hand. and again, possibly against your better judgement, you took it.

it was dangerous to be alone in the forest, didn't you know? but there was nothing to worry about. the monster would make sure nothing — no one — took you from the safety of his presence.

you weren't safe anywhere that wasn't by his side.

please reblog to support me!

[irisintheafterglow]

hey how do we feel about neighbor!bakugo on your first night in a new apartment complex

it was so much colder than you expected.

you already knew you needed to put in a work ticket to fix your ac unit because it seemed to be stuck at the lowest setting (and you weren't in the mood for such a high utility bill). for the time being, bundled up in your comfiest sweater, you finish unpacking the last of your things. the shower curtain is strung, the pots and pans are stored, and the sun is nearly gone by the time you arrange the last throw pillow in front of your headboard.

polaroid pictures of your friends dot your walls, reminders of home that should fill you with something other than sorrow. it was a different type of ache every time you moved back for school; you wanted simultaneously for everything to freeze in time so you wouldn't miss anything, but also for them to live and send you all the memories you weren't experiencing. yet here you were again, in a very cold, very echoey studio that seems too loud when you shut the kitchen cabinet and place a can of soup on the counter.

there's a knock at the door before you turn the knob to light a burner on the stove.

"hey." when you first open the door, you're bombarded with the smell of something incredible, savory and buttery with the slightest smokiness. it drifts down the hallway and you catch a door propped open with a case of plastic water bottles out of the corner of your eye. when you register the guy in front of you, you have to rewire your brain when it short-circuits. "i'm bakugo in 2281. if you smell smoke, don't call anyone. i just messed up trying to cook." he's the first person you've met that can make scowling look so handsome as he runs a hand through unruly blonde hair. you finally realize that you hadn't uttered a word since opening your door and you can imagine the jolt as your senses return to your body.

"i think it smells incredible, actually," you offer and he shrugs, a muscled shoulder lifting underneath a simple black tank. well, that is a...lovely view. "are you pan-frying something?"

"i'm not; my roommate is. i usually do the cooking, but he insisted when i accidentally burnt our shit on high heat."

"happens to the best of us," you agree sympathetically. "is it just the two of you in that unit?"

"nah, we've got two more with us too." a small smirk fights its way onto your face as he looks less-than-pleased with his living arrangements. "unfortunately."

"seems like you get along great with them," you tease lightly and he scoffs, rolling his eyes lightheartedly. "did you guys move in today too?"

"took seven fuckin' hours, but yeah. eventually." he answers and you snort, feeling a little more at ease and leaning against the doorframe. "you?"

"i just finished unpacking my things. i was about to make dinner when you knocked." you swear you watch his eyes, scarlet red, shoot down and over your body, but the interest is gone as soon as it appears. "well," you begin a little awkwardly, not really sure what else to say. "i hope whatever your roomie makes is delicious, and thank you for letting me know about the smoke. better luck next time, i guess."

"yeah." bakugo shifts uneasily on his feet, like he was trying to say something that wasn't coming out.

"i guess i'll see you around--"

"yo, bakugo! we have a problem!" before you shut the door, you glance down the hall in the direction of the amazing smell and see who you could only assume was bakugo's roommate sticking his face out of the front door. his hair was fiery red and held back by a simple sweatband, also red. bakugo swears under his breath and gives you an apologetic grimace. "oh, hello!" the red-head addresses you with a blindingly bright grin that reaches his ears, which don't seem to be working as he shouts loud enough to get your whole floor a noise complaint. "i'm kirishima! are you our new neighbor?"

"what the fuck happened, shitty hair? and stop fucking yelling!"

"no, we don't have watermelon!" kirishima shouts back incorrectly. bakugo drags his hand down his face with a groan.

"that's not what i asked, dumbass!"

"just fyi, denki didn't tell me he put one packet in until after i put my packet in, so we accidentally made, like, ten servings of food," kirishima yells.

"this is what happens when you dumbasses do the cooking," bakugo barks in response. a crashing THUD! and the distant sound of loud hip-hop leak from their unit and you can't help smiling a little bit. for all their chaos, it was a little endearing. it felt like light was seeping into your stale apartment and you suddenly felt the urge to keep the door ajar so long as they kept theirs the same. "do we have any room in the fridge?"

"you think a broom is a bitch?" kirishima mistakenly mishears again and you stifle a giggle into your hand. "look, we don't have room in the fridge for leftovers since sero bought 2 cases of energy drinks!"

"i am going to stuff all three of them in a box and ship them to a different continent," he mutters and you finally burst out laughing. his eyes flicker over to you and narrow slightly, an idea precipitating in his brain. "you say you didn't eat dinner yet?"

"that can of soup is my dinner." you gesture over your shoulder to the sad little can in the dull light of your apartment. "why?"

"you wanna come over? promise they're not shitheads that wanna poison you. they're just dumbasses that don't know how to cook," he explains, a light shade of pink growing on his ears. "we can leave the door open, too, so you can bolt if you feel uncomfortable or whatever. up to you." he rubs the back of his neck with his palm, exhibiting every possible indicator of embarrassment.

"are you cooking dessert too?"

"no," he replies. "but i can make a mean ice cream sundae. it'll be damn good since i'm the one making it."

"then i don't need anymore convincing. want me to bring my own plate?"

"no need, we have extras." the sound of shattering ceramics followed by screams of horror say otherwise. "on second thought, maybe you should bring your own plate."

"no worries. i'll be over in a second. save me a chair?"

"'course. thanks for helping us and our mess."

"i should be thanking you. stay here a sec," you say quickly before grabbing a plate faster than the speed of sound. before bakugo can inhale again, you're throwing open the door again with a plastic plate and a container in hand. "any chance you've seen that new action-drama on netflix?" you ask as he walks you over to his unit. with every step, the impending chaos nears, and you find yourself grateful for it.

"the guys've been meaning to watch it, i think. i didn't really care but i'll watch it with you, if you want."

"oh, i've already seen it. three times," you admit sheepishly and don't think too much on his suggestion of watching it with you. "i just need someone to talk about the franchise with, and--"

"you the new neighbor? kirishima's almost done cooking, so we should have food out in a sec." another head pokes out from the doorway as you're about to step through. "i'm sero, the hottest one in the house."

"yeah, maybe for blind people!" the final roommate calls from far inside the apartment.

"you can't be in conversations when you're taking a shit, denki!" sero shouts back and invites you inside. "ignore him. he has many, many problems."

"as do all of the people in this damn house," kirishima says in passing as he sets a pan of food on the kitchen table.

"you better have washed your hands, fuckin' weirdo," bakugo threatens when the last roommate appears from the hallway. "sorry about them. we've been friends since high school and i can't get rid of 'em," he whispers to you.

"aw, c'mon. you know you love us or you wouldn't be living with us," denki sings.

"like i had any choice when you asswipes forged my signature on the lease."

"we didn't forge it, we just took creative liberties since you were on patrol..."

when the roommates are finally done arguing, you introduce yourself and, with one last amused look toward bakugo, sit down for dinner.

and for the first time in what felt like days, you felt warm.

---

despite it being less than a hundred feet down the hallway, all four of your new friends insist on walking you to your front door. three of them conveniently dismiss themselves once they've said their goodbyes, leaving you with a very-flushed bakugo fumbling over his words as he asks if you want to come over again sometime.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[byechristopher]

⠀

I hate you, too [pt.2].

– CHRIS STURNIOLO SMUT & ANGST.

PART ONE.

Author's note: HI, I finally wrote it. I originally made a poll but, the answer was pretty clear so, here it is. It was requested, by the way! I'll reply to the message because I forgot to put it here, thanks for the request, dear. Side note, I was listening to Never Lose Me – Flo Mili (during the smut part, obvi). Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: filthy smut, super super long, didn't proofread, rough smut, car sex, angst. That's pretty much it. Minors dni. Thank you.

It's been a week since the party I attended, the one where I encountered him.

My mind has been consumed by reflections on that night, so much that I haven't been able to do anything else other than that, except for work. While I assume he might not have dwelled on it, I can't help but wonder if he thinks about me – about the way we touched, the way I looked at him when he prepared to leave. When I didn't want him to leave.

I shake my head, realizing I can't continue this self-inflicted struggle. Accepting the ongoing intimacy with my ex was challenging enough, let alone having feelings that linger inside me, still to this day. I almost gave in that day, when I saw something in his eyes, something that said he still cared about me – mending my dress, that sweet kiss, his declaration of hatred, a reminder of our past. That we once hated each other and that's why we weren't together anymore. Or so we thought.

Deciding that just sitting here, mopping around and feeling sorry for myself isn't going to help at all, I get up determined to go outside and have some fun. No house parties, no hosts, no Chris, no nothing.

My friends are already up for it (and I love them for it), because it only takes ten minutes for them to come over so we can get all dolled up together. It's a few minutes past midnight and we're finally ready (okay, we did have a few pre-drinks then and there), so we immediately call a cab. We reach our destination just a few minutes later and after greeting the girl that was at the entrance of the club, she lets us in and we get lost in the crowd.

You know how it goes; flashing lights everywhere, people kissing and drinking, almost pitch black all around. Looks like clubs aren't that different from house parties after all. A group of friends offers to buy us drinks, and who are we to say no (there's no way we're dancing with any of them, but it's fine) – we're already having the time of our lives, we're drinking, we look amazing, everything seems possible.

Except for the impossible.

Because there's no fucking way Chris happens to be in this same club; I completely lose the ground beneath my feet. I want to turn my back to him, I really do. But at the same time I want him to see me again. I want to see him again.

My friends notice where I'm looking and they know better than to say anything – so they just leave me be. Chris notices me as well and everything stops. Not again. I hope he doesn't come here but deep down I'm praying he does.

"Never had a bitch like me in your life.."

What is it with me, Chris and songs that we both used to like (and have sex while listening to them)? He's looking at me, and I can feel his intense gaze once again. As he drinks something, for a moment, I wish I could see this sight up close, look how his tongue touches the glass. Fucking hell.

Me and my girlfriends sway to the music, letting every beat ignite a playful dance between us. As we keep each other close, the music wraps around us, and for a moment I forget about him. Lost in the rhythm, we surrender to the dance, singing along.

He's here. Well fuck.

He grabs me by the waist and pulls me closer to him – I can't help but roll my eyes, turning around to look into his blue ones, holding my own drink close to me.

"How dare you interrupt my dance?" I yell in his ear so he can hear and he smiles.

"I stayed to watch you for a bit before I approached and interrupted your dance. You were just too irresistible, damn." as usual, he has a big smirk on his face and I just want to slap it off his face.

His arm stays on my waist and I can't find the strength to push it away – his hand roams around my naked back thanks to my dress, not that I'm complaining. He leans in to wrap his lips around my straw, tasting my drink while looking at me.

"Tastes much better with that lipstick you're wearing.." he teases and licks his lips, "..bet you love it even more when it's around my dick." his gaze darkens and my legs shake a little.

"What a shame you'll never see it on you ever again." I give him a sarcastic smile and push him gently with one hand.

"You sure about that?" his lips are touching my ear and again, I hate myself for letting him have such an effect on me.

"Yes. I don't like sharing my lipsticks." I raise a challenging eyebrow, indirectly asking him if he's been fucking anyone else besides me – because if that's the case, I feel like I will completely lose myself.

"Mhmm.. you're already thinking about other girls sucking my dick?" he tilts his head with an innocent-like look on his face, "..jealous about it?" his thumb rubs my bottom lip and his smile returns.

My blood is boiling to say the least, but I know him way better than to show that. So instead, I smile, "I don't have time to think about your dick, baby. Someone else makes sure I don't." take that.

No one. Absolutely no one can make me stop thinking about him in general but I had to say something. Otherwise I might just start crying.

Something shifts in his eyes and I internally high-five myself for achieving to make him jealous once again. He leaves. What? He literally just lets me go and goes back to where his friend group is, turns his back on me and everything. Well, shit.

I'm more than jealous but I want him way more than our egoistic bullshit; I'm shameless, I want him.

I move swiftly through the crowd, desperately trying to find him before i change my mind – and I do find him. He doesn't really expect to see me there but he does and he smiles. I quickly wrap my fingers around his wrist this time, dragging him with me like he did in that house party the previous week. Safely, I lead us out of the club, making sure to not answer any of his questions.

Once he realises that I'm not speaking to him until we reach the car, he stops talking and simply follows me. We finally get into the car and I start the engine.

"Do you realise how crazy that was?" he finally says, he really didn't expect me to just do that.

"I thought you liked crazy." I smirk this time and he huffs, licking his lips and leaning back against the passenger seat, making himself comfortable.

Once I make sure we're somewhere where no one will be able to see us, I immediately stop the car, lock it and I practically jump on him, straddling his thighs. His hands immediately grab my hips, his mouth hungry, searching for my lips and his eyes even hungrier.

"You drive me fucking crazy." he almost growls as he quickly rides up my dress, exposing the rest of my thighs and panties.

I undo his shirt with shaky fingers, leaving it on but making sure I have access to his naked body. I almost attack his skin with hungry kisses and love bites as he keeps himself occupied with my butt, kneading and smacking the skin every now and then.

I wrap my lips around his nipple and now my lipstick is long gone – his moans fill the car, fogging up the windows as I continue sucking on his sensitive nipple. He pushes my panties to the side from behind, his finger traveling from my ass to my pussy, rubbing the entrance and collecting all of the juices. I can't help but moan against his skin. With his free hand, he grabs a fistful of my hair, tugging at it to make my head fall back – with my neck now exposed, he finds the opportunity to attack it with his kisses and bites. In the meantime, I unbuckle his belt, moaning every time his teeth sink into my sensitive skin.

His finger keeps teasing my wet entrance, but his other hand finally lets go of my hair and I immediately lean in to kiss his lips hungrily. As I sit up as much as I can, I push his pants down with a bit of his help, doing the same with his boxers as I start rubbing his cock.

"You must be very loyal to that other guy, hm?" he chuckles and wraps his hand around my throat.

"Your other girlfriends haven't been able to satisfy you, it seems. You're about to cum already..." I click my tongue, completely avoiding what he said to me, "..either that, or you're still obsessed with me.." I whisper, grinding down on his dick as he keeps grabbing me by the throat, "do you think they'd like that?"

He chuckles, moaning as soon as he feels the warmth and the wetness of my pussy, "do you think your little bitch will like it when he sees the marks I left for him?" he whispers, tightening the grip around my throat.

I groan, realising my neck must be all bruised up already. This fucking asshole.

Grabbing his dick again, I lower myself down on it as we both moan in unison – he immediately hugs me, his warm fingers digging into the skin of my back as I start to finally move.

"Fucking hell.." he whispers, his face buried in my neck as his hands cup my ass cheeks, guiding me up and down on his cock.

"Fuck.. Chris.." I moan loudly, one hand around him and the other one pressing against the car window, leaving a mark behind.

"Baby.. like that.." he mutters and I can feel myself clenching around him as soon as he calls me that.

He takes my breasts in his hands, squeezing them gently and kissing them with every chance he gets. I can feel him throbbing and I know it is almost time.

He immediately licks his fingers and presses them on my clit, making me stop my movements and tremble, my eyes roll to the back of my head.

"Don't stop. Keep going." he orders and I do exactly that. My burning thighs don't make it easy, especially in his goddamn car, but I don't care. As soon as I start moving up and down his dick again, his fingers start moving.

"Chris.. Chris, please.." I moan, gasping every time he picks up the pace. My breasts bounce with every movement, both of my hands now are on his shoulders supporting myself as I feel myself getting closer and closer.

"I wanna feel it, cum on me." he moans and his touch on my clit becomes as gentle as it can, and that's when I lose it. Once I come down from my high, he pulls out and cums all over my belly, almost shouting my name as he squeezes his eyes shut and grips my hips so hard that I'm sure it'll leave bruises behind.

It takes a while for me to start breathing normal again – and at the same time, I was afraid of what was going to happen when all of this stopped. But for now, I am trying to live in the moment as much as I can; he holds me in his arms tightly, I can feel his heartbeat and his breath tickling my hair, and I can swear I feel his fingertips caressing my back, drawing invisible circles on the skin.

I almost want to cry as he holds me close, I am so overwhelmed with emotions I didn't know I still had in me, that my hands start shaking.

"There's no one else. Only you." I whisper against his shoulder, my cheek pressed against it.

He takes a moment to respond, but he eventually does, "no other lipsticks for me either. Only yours." he whispers back.

This is what happens all the time ever since we parted ways – I call him, we have sex. He sees me outside, we have sex. We are ruthless, merciless, ready to tear each other apart without thinking of the consequences. So when we're finished, and all the hatred and lust is gone, what's left is two vulnerable, broken hearts and a love for each other that once existed.

I don't know how to react at his words. I feel relieved but I also feel angry, I feel hurt. Everything all at once.

"Come on." he says and makes me lean back against the dashboard. He grabs some baby wipes he keeps in his car and starts cleaning up my belly, my thighs, everywhere. He cleans himself up as well and throws them away in the little bin inside the car. He fixes my panties and my dress as well (as much as he can).

He tries to make me get up, but I stay in place. He looks at me but I don't move an inch, "can I ask you something?" I muster up the courage to ask.

"What is it?" he sighs, he knows something heavy is coming.

"Why are you so cold all the time?" he furrows his eyebrows at my question, and he looks like he is about to say a million reasons why what I just asked was stupid, "..so cold, playing it cool all the time, as if nothing happened." I say and I almost regret it.

"Are you fucking serious? What did you expect? You broke up with me, yet you still wanna have sex with me. Do you want me to be all lovey-dovey with you?" he narrows his eyes and I bite the inside of my cheek.

He's correct – what did I really expect? I vividly recall the day I ended our relationship; he was devastated, it was like something shifted within us since then. I was devastated, too. But the decision to break up felt necessary and inevitable. Our hectic schedules kept us apart for days on end. And being the jealous toxic assholes that we both are, this never ended well; it drove me nuts, I had to end it. However, ending the relationship doesn't mean my love for him ceased; on the contrary, I'll never stop loving him. And as for the sex.. well, it's pretty self-explanatory; he's the only one who knows what I like and what I don't. His touch is the only thing I knew for years. And that was the only way I could be close to him. I might've regretted that decision. Might've.

"No. But I would at least expect you to be respectful towards me, we were together for so long." I look down at my trembling fingers, there's pain in my voice.

"Yeah, well, do you know what else would be respectful? You, owning up to the decision you fucking made for the both of us." he's staring into my eyes, "when you break up with someone, especially when you've been with them for a long ass time, you don't go back to them. No matter what the situation is. That's what's respectful. But can you handle that?"

I don't know what to say. And I hate the fact that he's right – I know I fucked up.

"I don't think I can handle that, no." I say truthfully, my voice feels small and now I feel small too, in front of him.

"Yeah, well, that's your fucking problem now." he leans back against the passenger seat and clears his throat.

"Why do you come back?" I whisper, fearing the answer.

"You said it yourself that day. It's the only way to have you at the moment. And I'm taking it." now there's pain in his voice, "but do you realise how toxic that is? That's draining us way more than our schedule did." he runs his fingers through his hair and looks out of the window.

"So what are we supposed to do?" I ask. I feel so dumb.

"As I said. Own up to your decision. I never wanted to break up with you, which is why I never did. You should be the one who stops any contact between us. Not me. If I could, I would, trust me on this one." there's an emptiness in his eyes that I can not quite comprehend what it means. It doesn't let me see through him like I usually do.

"Chris.. damn it, I can't." I whisper, tears fill up my eyes but he's not having any of it.

"No, fuck off. You're fucking selfish." he's getting angry now, the vein in his neck is popping out, hands turning into fists and his knuckles turning white.

Fuck. It seems like everything I say is wrong. I want to just scream and cry and run away.

"I am not selfish, Chris. I am stupid.." I can't stop the tears that fill up my eyes, "..I never wanted to end things with you, I promise. I thought that.. that was the only way for us to calm the fuck down.. we were jealous, and crazy, and toxic." I let my hands fall on his lap.

"And what we're doing now is not toxic? How do you think I feel coming back to you after you broke up with me, just so we can fuck and tell each other we hate each other?" his jaw is clenched and his eyes are turning lighter. He's about to cry.

"I am sorry, Chris. I cannot imagine that, no.. I just.. I made a mistake.. and I am deeply sorry. I am paying for it as well.. this whole time, I really thought you just didn't care.. otherwise I would've made a move way sooner." I explain as much as I can, I am fully crying now.

He's holding back as much as he can – he collects me in his arms for yet another comforting hug when he notices I practically can't breathe, "first of all, breathe for me, okay? I need you to be calm so we can solve this." he rubs my back soothingly and my heart almost jumps out of my chest, because that's exactly who I fell in love with. That's the Chris I knew.

He does make me calm down way faster than I thought. I wipe away my tears and collect a single tear that left his eye as well.

"I love you. I always will." I whisper, cupping his cheeks.

"You know I love you too." his voice is very low, "I cannot stop loving you."

"Do you want to try again?" I whisper timidly, "I will try my best to make you trust me again." I say and I mean it.

"Pretty girl.." he mumbles, grabbing my chin gently, caressing it, "..you better try your hardest, hm?" he whispers and I nod like a little kid, "I promise to make more time for us, we deserve it. You deserve it."

⠀

⠀

⠀

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 794: The culmination race

Pag 1

1: “There are people who you don't meet often, but when you do meet them you get along really well”

2: I heard that from a classmate a long time ago

And I thought “there's no way that there are people like that”

4: There's some strange people

5: It's funny, if they asked me now

Pag 2

1: I'd answer “of course there are”!!

Pag 3

1: “One of them lives in Chiba”, I'd say!!

2: One day, that guy was collapsed on Hakone and I helped him

3: Unexpectedly, he also rode a bike

4: We met again at CSP

5: Like me

6: he's a climber

Pag 4

1: We rarely meet

but when we do meet

2: We laugh

Pag 5

1: at the same silly things

2: Sakamichi-kun!! It's you!!

Pag 6

1: They passed the 1km left point!!

Manami and Mountain King!

Just a few minutes until they reach the mountain line!!

Soon!

Goo Hakogaku!!

Take it, Chiba!!

Pag 7

1: They're still neck and neck!!

Amazing, neither of them is yielding!!

It's a race of willpower!!

2: Until the mountain line

3: 800m left!!

4: My hands

5: are becoming numb

6: But I'll keep doing my best!!

Pag 8

2: Wh-wh-what do I do

My heart is pounding in my chest....

3: They're arriving!!

Huh!? They're arriving!? Wait, my heart isn't ready

Not yet

Not yet!? Not yet!!

4: Why am I so nervous....

Even though I'm not the one running

Pag 9

1: Even though the one who's running and having a hard time is Sangaku...

2: I'll drink this lemon tea the old lady at the ryokan gave me, and I'll calm down

3: Ohh, you're going to cheer at the Inter High?

Oh, and you come from Kanagawa!?

Yes, well

That's amazing

4: It's delicious

5: But

6: I'm stuck on one thing

7: Was it really a good thing that I came here to cheer?

Pag 10

1: One month ago

2: Kanagawa Prefecture, Hakone Academy

3: Ah

4: Class rep

5: Huh? From above!?

Huh, where is this voice coming from!?

The boys' toilets

Ah!?

Pag 11

1: Wait a moment, there's something I wanna ask you

Toi... ah!?

2: Huh!? Wait!? What!? Directly!?

Use the inside stairs... be caref....

2: Hop

Okay I get it, I get it, I'll come there

4: You know the other day... while I was running... a butterfly was flying,. And then I thought “oh, it's gone?”

And then when I went home and took off my jersey, it came out of it fluttering

What- you just came down the second floor so smoothly and started making conversation!!

Pag 12

1: Am I not amazing like a magician!?

Boys are strong...

Ah, yes yes, that's true

2: Is that all you wanted to tell me? I've been asked to go to the audiovisual room to bring these documents

3: Are you coming to the Inter High?

5: Huh

6: “Something he wanted to ask”

This year

Ah

7: “Inter High”

Pag 13

1: You came to the Inter High every year

I didn't know you liked road racing so much, Class rep

I...

2: I always thought

You even passed me a drink on the mountain last year

I thought

3: After last year's Inter High ended

4: I kept thinking about it even on the train home

5: that it was because I went to see him that Sangaku...

6: lost

Pag 14

1: I know it's unrelated... but, at the same place, screaming the same words

This year it'll be in Kyushu thought, so it's far...

2: It's small, it's a small thing, but if it gets in Sangaku's way

Hakogaku is going by plane, so it's easy

3: If he was even just a little distracted because of me and that made a small difference

(Win, Sangaku!!

Win, Sangaku!!)

4: Then I think it's better if I don't go this year

6: Because I want him to win

Pag 15

1: Ah, as expected Kyushu is too over-budget

That's not... ah... uhm

2: …. yeah, sorry

3: Well, I'll tell you the highlights

There'll be a camera, so you can watch videos

4: Watch it

The first day's mountain

“The first day's... mountain”

5: I think Sakamichi-kun will probably there too

“Sakamichi-kun”... the guy with the round glasses

6: We'll probably fight there

I think

Pag 16

1: It will be the culmination race of these three years

2: “Culmination”!!

3: “Of these three years”...!!

4: Such heavy words... this is Sangaku being serious

Culmination....!?

Pag 17

1: We have to fulfill our promise, so I'm sure Sakamichi-kun will come

2: “Sakamichi-kun”... they must be... close friends....

3: I think it'll probably end up being our best race

4: A... are you close friends!? You.. you and that Sakamichi-kun!?

5: Hahaha

Well, I guess

6: Even though we only contact each other two or three times a year

And that's being close friends!?

7: I lost against him during our first year... Hakogaku ended up losing, so I resented him

But I was blaming the wrong thing, because after all it was because of my lack of ability, wasn't it?

8: Now we often talk after races

Is... that so

9: But why don't you send more texts to each other? Is- is he really a close friend!?

Of course!!

Pag 18

1: After all we both “like hills”

Pag 19

2: Come see me if you can save money

Ye... yeah

3: Sangaku's smiling face that day was incredibly persuasive

I really wanted to see you race

4: So I came

to Kyushu!!

5: But

7: I really don't want to move forward, after all

It's enough if I can just see him a little... from behind here

Pag 20

1: What are you doing

2: Hyaa I'm sorry!!

I'm sorry for not paying attention to who was behind me! I'll just lean down a little!

Why don't you move forward?

3: Huh

4: Isn't he

5: a close friend of yours, and you used to always listen to his nonsense?

To... Toudou-san!!

[spidercomics]

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 (𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆).

pairing(s): avatar!jake x f!na'vi!reader.

summary: "all the things you want to do, just relax and i'll take care of you" ─ being the olo'eyktan's oldest daughter, you rarely take time to enjoy yourself. luckily, jake knows how to make you loosen up.

contents: established relationship, talks about missing meals, kissing, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, riding, m/f ejaculation, overstimulation (kinda).

wc: 2.59k

a/n: normally i dont like the uh, "neytiris sister" shit but, here we go ig, tried not to mention her too much, felt kinda guilty 😭😭 bear with me on this one, haven't written since april. i cant believe i wrote fucking alien sex

glossary:

"yom wutsot"; eat (your) meal/food.

"rutxe"; please.

all your life, you'd strived to be perfect. you'd be constantly disappointed in yourself if you didn't exceed expectations in every task and skill you tried to master. you were also scared of failure, one of the main issues as to why you got so much stress and anxiety when stuff didn't work out as planned, or things changed last minute. it was a big problem for you, until jake came along.

jake was carefree, one; because he came from an entirely different planet, he didn't know anyone and didn't have anyone to disappoint or impress, and two; he was just a free spirit. he lived now, he did what he wanted, and he didn't look back. jake had the mindset you'd love to have.

all you ever wanted to hear was that someone was proud of you, not how you could improve, not what you could to better next time — no, you wanted to hear that you did well, make you feel like you've accomplished something, not just gotten better at it.

jake had filled that place, reminding you often how proud he is and sometimes playing extra dumb just to somehow boost your confidence. he's cocky, but he doesn't come close to the amount of skills you have, he'll admit that much.

sitting by the fire, jake didn't listen to the conversation neytiri and tsu'tey tried to involve him in. he was grateful of them trying to make him feel included, but he also felt kinda like a burden; since he restricted them from using their native tongue around him — just so he'd understand. it was nice, but unnecessary in this case when he didn't pay attention to them anyway.

he was eyeing the clusters of families and friends around the fire, but he didn't see you. you weren't there.

jake knew there was an annual feast coming up, and knowing you, it had to be perfect. you were probably working your ass of planning it somewhere, and here he was, enjoying a meal and talking to his friends.

selfish.

you heard someone walking into your tent, jake had a certain scent, and along with the way he always dragged his heavy feet around, you had heard him coming. knowing it was jake, you didn't make a move to acknowledge him.

"y/n?"

the sigh you let out before answering almost made him nervous, "ma jake."

he loved how you said his name.

"i brought you dinner."

"i have already ate." he hated how you didn't even turn around to answer him, too occupied with weaving finishing touches to decorative cloths.

"don't lie," walking up to you, jake lazily set down the bowl on a nearby surface, crouching down and resting his hands on your shoulders, "you need to take a break, you've been sitting here since morning."

"it needs to be perfect jake, the feast is tomorrow and mother keeps telling me how this is a big celebration of me completing the passage."

"everything will look perfect, don't be so harsh on yourself," jake reached over to grab the bowl of food before sitting in front of you, now in your line of sight. you didn't look up tho, not until he handed you the food and it smelled so good your insides started making an embarrassingly loud noise, "yom wutsot."

this made you look up. jake didn't use na'vi more than necessary, but whenever he did, he sure got your attention. you wanted him to speak it more, it would help him learn it better too. you grabbed the bowl, and jake let a small, smug smile grace his face in celebration.

jake let you eat without talking your ear off (as he usually would), and instead letting himself observe the beautiful patterns you've chosen to weave. he didn't understand why you were being so hard on yourself, as if the work wouldn't be appreciated no matter how it looked. maybe not by your parents to a full, but by the people. you were a role model for everyone already, you didn't have to prove yourself anymore.

watching you stand up and moving across the tent to leave the bowl, he had been on his feet not long after — reaching for your empty hands. he engulfed your smaller ones in his own, and using the grip to start swaying with you. you let out a small laugh, before leaning your head in his neck and enjoying the solid warmth he gave you. skin on skin, jake closed his eyes, feeling your hands now laying flat against his upper back, pushing him impossibly closer. one of his hands wrapped around your waist, starting to control your swaying, and the other grabbing the back of your neck, occasionally moving your hair through his fingers.

your breathing fell in rhythm with his own, feeling the slight brush of air against the nape of his neck. your heartbeat had slowed considerably, the complete warmth and comfortable hold of jake calming you down from the stressed out state he found you in. jake's heart, on the other hand, had picked up. your fingers tracing his back sent chills up his spine, in the best way possible, and he would never get enough of how easy you made him melt into a mess.

jake was sure that you could throw a dagger into his chest and his heart would still be whole, beating for you, until his death. you hadn't mated yet, and with the frequent attacks from the rda, jake wanted it over with — to connect before it was too late, wanting to feel your souls connecting like they were meant to, atleast once.

your hands traced around his torso, palms against his chest before straightening yourself, your hands around his shoulders, swaying with him. jake was holding your waist, leaving small kisses on the top of your hair, he leaned his head down to connect his forehead against yours. he felt your tail rubbing his leg slightly, a little shocked when it circled his thigh to pull him closer, forcing your lips to meet in a kiss. jakes hands dropped lower, grabbing your hips in his hold and enjoying the slight purring bouncing around your chest when he rubbed his hands on the seam of your cloth, moving his lips fiercely against your own.

jake would do anything for you to de-stress, and if this is what it took, he wouldn't complain.

one of his hands trailed lower, a simple grip on the back of your thigh. when you playfully swatted his hand with your tail he let out a deep chuckle, seperating your lips with a smirk on his lips.

"lay down for me." it wasn't a question, and you didn't think for a second before detaching yourself from jake, laying down on the rugs and blankets displayed across the tent.

jake watched how you sat up, untying your top piece and tossing it away to the side for later. you leaned down on your forearms, legs bent, feet planted against the ground. jakes ears started immediately twitching, tail swaying excitedly. it was so easy to rile him up.

jake got down on his knees, placing soft kisses along your legs, getting closer and closer to the place you desired him the most. he took his time, if it was for his own pleasure or for the sake of teasing, you didn't know. he nipped at your soft thighs, enjoy the way your mouth dropped open, soft mewls escaping when he left small hickeys on the inside of them, claiming you, even if it was somewhere he wished no one would see them except him.

his hands found themselves untying the second piece covering you, admiring the way your cunt looked so smooth, so wet. so wet, it had him twitching under his own loincloth, he couldn't wait to devour you. it wasn't the first time he'd done this, but he still felt so giddy each time, even if what you were doing was nothing close to innocent. he wanted to be the one undressing you forever, the one to worship your body, the ground you walked on.

jake traced two fingers along your core, experimentally dipping a finger inside and feeling the way you clenched at the intrusion of his finger. he kept pushing it in, coming to a hilt and listening to your small, inaudible mumbles. he pulled it out, toying with your slit as your chest heaved slightly, heartbeat racing significantly.

"ma jake, rutxe," jake pushed a finger in, pulling it out again, and redoing the same motions. his thrusts became steady, and brought you immense pleasure. his thumb traced along your cunt, landing on your clit, rubbing slow circles around it.

it was a sight for sore eyes, your wet cunt, only for him to cherish, twitching and clenching around his fingers, sucking him in for more. you had him absolutely entranced. he would stay in this position forever if he could.

"jake, please, can you just— oh," his tongue replaced his eager thumb, licking a stripe up your slit, collecting your arousal. his thrust had picked up, adding a finger, he watched your back arch up a bit, your eyes closed from the new added pressure against your already slick walls.

jake payed close attention to the soft sighs and mewls you let out, adjusting his fingers to reach even deeper. jake felt his chin covered in your essence, and he wondered if any other man had found themselves lucky enough to be in his position. a man could only dream to find themselves between your thighs like jake is, tasting every piece of you, cherishing your body with more love than his heart could withhold.

his fingers found the spot inside of you that made your hand desperately grasp at his soft hair, the shorter strands getting caught between your fingers, pushing him closer to your heat. he let out a satisfied groan, enjoying the way you pulled on his dark locks, fingers digging into his scalp.

the thrusts of his fingers were calculated and steady. a slowly increasing pace, with a force that made your body shiver, and a hand laying hard on you hip, sure to leave a purple mark in the morning. every prod and drag had a coil tightening in the pit of your stomach, a fire growing inside of you. the soft pleas and sighs, along with the wet squelch from his constant thrusts had his dick twitching. he was so hard, he started considering rubbing himself against the rug for the slightest pleasure.

the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm washed over you. the long-awaited feeling that had you absolutely seeing stars. as cliche as it was. a hand wrapped around your wrist that was in his hair, a soft kiss was placed against your palm and then you felt the man that had spent minutes between your thighs grabbing you, pulling you up and out of your hazy state to sit in his lap.

your mouth dropped open from the overwhelming feeling of his bulge against your bare sex. quickly detaching yourself, sitting up on your knees to calm yourself down before taking it any further. jakes hand rubbed against your head, fingers tracing from the top of your head down to your neck, waiting for your body to relax.

"you good?"

"mhm, felt so good jake, you're so good," jake didn't know if you would even remember this conversation, but it still left him a little flustered. your praise always had that effect on him, his ears falling flat. jake felt your hands reaching behind him to untie the cloth covering him from you, his eyes falling shut when your smaller hand touched the tip of his dick, "so pretty."

your eyes were casted downwards, your words merely a muttering to yourself. regardless of him hearing it or not, it was true, and it left his eyes falling shut from just the smallest pressure on the slit of his tip. leaning against him, you rubbed yourself on his dick, his hands had find solace on your hips, your knees constricting against his own. your head was leaning back, jake's forehead laying on top of your chest, eyes closed in pure pleasure.

his cock bumped against your clit, leaving your mouth open in silent moans, jake striving to keep doing the same movements over and over again. you wondered how something could feel so intimate and wonderful, without even connecting queues. your hands held the sides of his throat, fingers splayed across his jaw. keeping his head bent down between your breasts, a few kisses left on your soft skin.

"can i...?" you looked down at where jake was preparing to line himself up with your slick entrance, an eager nod from you left him pushing inside slowly, a groan leaving him when your tight walls sucked him in more and more, deeper and deeper, "so tight, so good for me... oh fuck— such a good girl, taking me so well."

you barely heard the last part, his voice breaking into small pants when you moved yourself up and down on him, the back of your thighs slamming down on his with every drop of your body.

"don't hold back on me baby, i wanna hear you," with his encouragement, you let yourself be a little louder, still aware of the people around the camp, outside of the tent. jake didn't seem embarrassed at all, rather proud of having you instead, glad to let as many people as possible know that he's the only one who can have you this way. you were his. with or without the bond.

beginning to set an alright pace for yourself, you let yourself relax further into his hold, feeling every shift of him against you — inside you. the way he grabbed your hips, ragged breaths fanning across your bare chest, small kisses being placed across your breasts and nipples, rough from the night air nipping away at your damp bodies.

jakes hand found its way back between your legs, his thumb rubbing slowly against your clit, bringing the pleasure to new heights. your mewls got louder, your tail wagging behind you in sharp twists, ears flat. he knew you were close, he'd seen the sweet sight before him too many times. he glanced up at your pretty face, forehead glistening from the overhead lights, sweaty from the long session of pleasures. jake hadn't even noticed his own orgasm coming, too distracted by the way your eyes closed shut, mouth open in the sweetest form of intimacy. he wanted to hold you in his arms forever.

"ma jake," your hand drifted to grab the back of his head, soft hair back between your fingers, bringing him back to the scene, the image of his dreams playing out in front of him. you were so close, desperately wanting the man who was all around you, in you, to be with you at the finishing line, "come with me jake, please, need you jake," how could he possibly resist you? resist your pleas?

"i got you, let go for me." he held you close, thumb circling your clit with more pressure as you writhed on his lap, body falling limp against him, face tucked into his neck. the way you clenched around him had him coming seconds after yourself. hand petting your hair, words of affection all around you as his other hand traced along your spine.

he couldn't wait to have you like this forever. officially.

© 2023, spidercomics - all rights reserved.

[keitorin3]

So I had a Thought,

There have been stories where Merlin waits for Arthur for hundreds of years until something or other, he has enough and timetravels back to see him again or something along those lines.

This is literally always on our minds after Season 5.

And then there is the alternative, those fics (which I personally love and want more of) where Merlin actually manages to save Arthur but dies instead.

Here is where I'm getting at. I don't know if it's because he doesn't have a cryptic lizard to spout prophecys, or druids who worships a legend, but Arthur who survives never lasts long.

Like I know we in the Fandom always say that without Merlin, Arthur would not survive long, but it boggles my mind how true it can be. It's not that Arthur doesn't have faith if he does hear some magical being telling him that Merlin would return.

It's just where Merlin who has powers, he feels useless to change anything. Where as Arthur, he is powerless, but hopeful and stubborn to the very end. He has the power of a King, it's not enough to change the weather or summon fire, but in those days it's to have power over people, to only say it and others would follow.

Magical Being: When the time is right, you're Warlock shall return to you, my King.

Arthur: Not good enough, I want him now.

Magical Being: That's not how this works...

Arthur: Then clearly you don't know Merlin or me very well. If my Merlin doesn't come to me when I want him, I find him and drag him back kicking and quiping by the ear! Now, either you help me revive him or I'll take up arms with the next magical for a better answer. *Channels his inner Pendragon*

Magical Being: ... *Sweats in slight fear* Right, I'll look into it.

Arthur: Good.

I especially love ones where Arthur learns or somehow inherits Merlin's magic and uses it to find Merlin in a different world or timeline or time travels back.

Arthur is noble and just, but with Merlin he is a selfish dragon who wants his friend *cough*husband*cough* back.

Anyway to conclude my thought, Merlin could wait years for his King until his breaking point. But Arthur would be relentless to have his Servant, his best friend, (his world) back.

Uther tried to get rid of magic, to get rid of Merlin. Arthur will bring Magic back.

Arthur will have Merlin back and by his side (*Whispers* Forever~!)