#also the last one exists only because i’m laughing my ass off their faces. i mean. all their inner selves are captured in these images..

[spghtrbry]

i don’t know why all of these screens are from different stagings. don’t ask me, i have no answer

[etoileee]

MY FRIST DAY IN MY PERCY JACKSON DR. ψ

au; sorry this took so long! I ended up getting sick and goddamn did I feel like a sick orphan in the 1800s. I was also debating the format I wanted to share this experience with you all.. informative or in first person, but I settled on both! I hope you all enjoy it! ❤︎

PLOT;

the storyline of it is that I'm the only child of NYX. the goddess of the night. Since she is a primordial goddess, to me it made sense that she wasn’t up to the same shinagains that the gods would be up to. for example, having demigod children like they’re being paid to, so to me, her only having one child in her entire existence is fitting.

In my dr it isn’t the prophecy of seven, it's the prophecy of ten. (I added Nico and Reyna!) and of course, me being the last member.

In the Sibilene books at camp Jupiter, they mentioned a prophecy of nine but they eventually found out it was supposed to be ten, not nine. so the prophecy of ten is what was engraved into the floor of the Jupiter temple.

by the type the prophecy is formed, everyone else in it but I was already there and had formed relationships with each other, some coming in did throw them off a bit.

‘the tenth member of the prophecy’ had become more like a legend as people wondered if there was one person left;

since every member of the prophecy but I had come together and there were more documents of there supposedly being nine instead of ten, everyone just assumed that the documents were wrong, but then I came along and was the last and final person.

FRIST SHIFT;

when I woke up I was in one of the beds in the infirmary. I didn’t script where I would wake up but I found out that the reason I was there is because when I got to Camp Half-Blood I passed out when I saw Chiron (LMAO??) but I didn’t find that out till later.

. Honestly, I'm starting to think that in the Percy Jackson universe when it rains, it RAINS. like full thunder, lightning and everything. I haven’t met Zeus but he seems very theatrical judging by the state of the weather was in when I woke up.

eventually, I got up and started walking around, I made my way out of the building and once I was outside there was this girl on her way to the infirmary to check up on me. She isn’t someone from the books but honestly, I was pretty excited to meet her (though I didn’t show it because that would’ve been weird) one of the things I was most excited about was meeting campers who weren’t in the series.

she told me her name (Madeline) and that she came to see how I was doing and if I was okay she'd take me to speak to Dionysus and Chiron because they needed to speak with me.

once I’m there I like to stand there awkwardly in front of Dionysus and Chiron, like zoned tf out staring at the wall while they stare at me probably thinking there’s not a thought behind my eyes.

a few minutes later the rest of the prophecy comes in, as they were walking in a few of them were talking and laughing, but once they saw me and the serious looks on both Chiron and Dionysus's faces they settled down.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS;

— PERCY JACKSON

the first thing I noticed was his eyes. I know that sounds cheesy as hell but truly he has really pretty eyes. In the books, he’s described as having ‘sea green’ eyes and they didn’t disappoint. I at one point ended up smiling at him. I couldn’t help it lolz but I think once I did that he seemed to relax a bit. his face softened and he smiled back at me a little bit. that’s when he let his guard down with me. Alexa play Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish!

— ANNABETH CHASE

she was looking at me very attentively. I won't lie I got nervous it felt like she was looking into my SOUL I was shaking in my boots low key. she’s beautiful though I hope I wasn’t blushing I have a sick-ass feeling I was, unfortunately. She watched me and Percy smile at each other and I think her guard went up MORE?? after the campfire me and her got the chance to talk a little bit. I think at that point she started to accept me a bit more but she was still a bit wary of me but PROGRESSSS!

— JASON GRACE

HUGE. BIG ASS GUY. gorgeous eyes as well. he and Annebeth were both very serious at the moment, but he didn’t look at me suspiciously the way Annebeth was looking at me, he looked more curious than anything. very well-mannered and respectful, charming ahh smile, I did however notice he does have a bit of a habit of pushing his glasses up his nose? like they’ll slide down and he pushes them up.. now I don’t if it’s because his glasses or too big or if its a habit but either way I counted how much times he pushed them up because I noticed, 36 TIMES.

— LEO VALDEZ

unserious mf. Of course, he was serious when he had to be but he was having a field when he found out that I was the last member of the prophecy. I and Percy were both ON ME on wanting to know more about me, and my ‘story’ if you will. he also got very excited about the fact that I’m also Mexican and now he has someone to talk shit with in Spanish. he genuinely was making me smile not to get all sappy lol. and he was flirty just as expected.

— PIPER MCLEAN

GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRLS LOVE SOUP! I was blushing again. I won't lie she’s genuinely so cool. She was also watching me very attentively but she seemed more relaxed and curious than the others. I think I and I connected well honestly. I didn’t script anything about my love life but I can see us getting closer.

— NICO DI ANGELO

I couldn’t really read his face during the meeting, he seemed both uninterested and intrigued at the same time. we made eye contact a few times and every time he didn’t look away ONCE. we did end up speaking a little bit later at the campfire, we said probably five words but I think we got along. I also think a made him smile a tiny bit, which is a win.

— RENYA RAMíREZ ARELLANO

my gay ass was so excited to meet her like I've had such a fascination with the amazons since I was a little girl, even though it looked like she was psychoanalyzing me. She and Annabeth both had their guard but the most around me. THEY WERE SUSPICIOUS. I don’t know if she likes me but IT'S OKAY.

— HAZEL LEVESQUE

She is so cute truly. she was also very friendly! She was the first one to smile at me and let her guard down. she’s also very talkative which was nice! when me and I started talking she asked me how the ride to the camp was and we bonded over our motion sickness LMAO

— FRANK ZHANG

HUGE MF #2 he is genuinely so nice and calm, it’s almost calming to be around. very soft spoken, likes to listen to others talk. at one point later in the night we were making s’mores and I was speaking with Leo so I failed to realize that my marshmallow was on fire and BURNING and he ended up taking the stick from me and blowing it out for me. thanks, frank. :(( </3

DURING THE TALK;

(my pov)

I stand there before the nine demigods,

A GOD,

and a man with fucking horse legs,

‘What the hell am I doing here?’ I think to myself. Well, I know exactly why I'm here, apparently, I'm a demigod myself, but this is not what I thought I’d be doing during this summer.

“We've brought you all here for a serious discussion,” Chiron says calmly, his hands clasped together in front of him while that other guy pours himself a glass of red wine, filling it up basically to the top.

not very classy.

I turn back to the nine other teenagers in the room, making eye contact with the tall boy with raven hair and green eyes. his gaze is unwavering against mine, his eyebrows are furrowed and the tip of his tongue sits at the corner of his mouth as his gaze zeroes in on me.

pleaselookawaypleaselookawaypleaselookaway

he doesn’t.

This interaction didn't go unnoticed by the blonde girl that stood next to him, her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed at me. her eyes attentively studying my expressions and body language. making me feel like a bug under a magnifying glass.

“you all know how we thought there being ten prophecy members was a legend, right?” Dionysus takes a sip of the red liquid in his glass, letting out a sigh of relief before putting it back down and leaning forward on the wooden table in front of him. resting his arms against it.

“We found the last one,” he says nodding towards me, like this is a normal thing that happens on a Friday night for him. “HER?” the boy wearing overalls and a tool belt says loudly pointing a finger at me.

“yeah, her,”

Dionysus takes a longer sip of his wine and I look back at the other demigods, my eyebrows furrowed together trying to understand what the hell the wine addict just told me.

prophecy of what and why the fuck am I in it?

horse legs— sorry— ‘Chiron’ notices the look on my face. “how much did your father tell you about yourself, child?” his voice is comforting, and his eyes are soft and wise. very different from the man standing up next to him.

I feel bad for calling him horse legs.

“he told me I was a demigod.. in the car,” I shrug and fix my bangs spread across my forehead. “he’s right about that,” he nods. his expression thoughtful. “what else he tell you?” Dionysus cuts in, his pointer finger circling the rim of his wine glass.

the world outside flashes something between blue and violet. the large windows letting the hue into the room. I turn my attention to the widows looking at the lighting in the sky creating different shapes, and eventually stroking far into the distance. creating a loud boom.

“damn,” I murmured to myself before looking back at everyone else, only to find them all staring at me, waiting for my answer.

“oh! Sorry— um—“ I look up trying to remember whatever the hell my dad told me in the car but my memory is fuzzy. as if it was a dream. “don’t think too hard, you fainting probably messed with your memory,” the tall blonde boy urges me, pushing his round frames up his nose with the tip of his middle finger.

I like his voice. It's nice.

“So you don’t know who your godly parent is?” Dionysus's eyes narrow on me waiting for my answer. “uh.. no, I don’t,” my gaze goes to a random spot on the floor.

”Well, we know who it is,” a wicked smirk on his lips, enjoying that he knows something I don’t, and it seems like he’s enjoying the anticipation and suspense he’s creating. “who?” the blonde girl next to ocean eyes, clearly getting tired of his act.

Dionysus drinks more of his wine in large gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. he sets the glass back down on the table and wipes his lips with the back of his hand.

“Nyx,”

the room goes silent. the name hanging in the air.

In this moment I realize I don’t know shit about greek mythology.

In the 6th grade, I did a Greek gods and goddesses program and I painted myself green because I got assigned to be Gaia and sang a song about peace. that’s about it.

“You know about greek mythology?” repair boy asks me raising his eyebrow at me, his lips tugging upwards teasingly finding my lack of knowledge amusing

“I know some things, but not a lot,” my voice quiet and I shrug. apparently, I’m a demigod who has no idea about Greek mythology. my eyes meet the emo boy’s eyes before I look away hearing Chiron's voice. “Nyx is an ancient, powerful, goddess. she’s been around longer than most gods,” I take a deep breath in and breathe out, taking all this information in.

my eyebrows pull together in confusion still not knowing what she’s the goddess of. “the goddess of the night,” Dionysus says to me simply, seeing the look of confusion and curiosity on my face.

the goddess of the night.

They continue to talk, probably about me, amongst each other as my thoughts begin to run wild making their conversation sound like fluffy background noise.

everything begins to make sense. the way I find comfort in the night, my hyper fixation on stars and the moon, the fact that my room always looks like a damn bat cave from never turning the light on.

huh.

“We don't even have a Nyx cabin,” that snaps me out of my zoned-out state. “She’ll stay in the Hermes cabin,” Dionysus says simply taking another sip of the red liquid in his glass.

“you guys will be spending a lot of time together, go get to know each other,” Chiron walks over to the door, opening it up so we can walk out.

time for icebreakers.. I guess.

[unfinishedslurs]

stobin kidnapped- no upsidedown

Robin doesn’t know why she comes out to Steve Harrington of all people. 

It could be the drugs. It could be the way he’s been pretty good-natured about her ribbing all summer. It could be the fact that they’ve bonded, painfully and irreversibly, in the last 24 hours in a way she never has with anyone else and hopefully never will. It could be that she’s almost certainly going to die in this tiny, awful basement, and Steve fucking Harrington’s shitty homophobic spiel won’t matter because they’ll be dead. 

Tammy Thompson won’t matter, either. She’ll never, ever look at Robin now. Probably won’t even think about her as she cries over Steve Harrington’s tragic fate. 

“Have you ever been in love?”

They’re pressed back to back next to the hole that serves as their toilet, even if they’re not tied together that way anymore. Something about being able to see from all angles is comforting. No surprises. 

It also means she doesn’t have to see Steve’s face when he tells her how amazing this new girl is.

“Robin?” He asks when she doesn’t respond. “You OD on me?”

“I’m alive,” she confirms. Unfortunately. 

Nope, too soon to be making jokes about wishing she were dead when there’s a high possibility she ends up dead before she gets out of here. 

Steve’s presence leaves her back, and she almost panics before she realizes he’s scooting backwards until he can meet her eye. She scoots back until her back hits the wall, and he does the same. 

“This floor’s disgusting.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ve already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” he points out. “What do you think?”

“About?”

“This girl.” Why are his eyes so big? Is it the drugs in her system making her hallucinate again? Some great, cosmic consequence for being the kind of girl who can’t fall in love with this apparently amazing guy who protected her the best he could? She feels like she’s going to vomit again.

Eventually their singing dies down, and they exist in comfortable silence for a moment. 

It’s Steve who breaks it. “You know Jonathan Byers?”

“Didn’t he punch you and steal your girl?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I lied.”

“About what?”

“Only ever having been in love with Nancy.”

She blinks at him, squinting in concentration until he shifts uncomfortably and she gasps. “No,” she says. 

“‘No’ what?”

“You were not in love with Jonathan Byers.”

“Okay, yeah, I wasn’t in love with him,” he protests, squirming. “But, like, he’s cool, right?”

“No!” She exclaims. “No, he’s not cool, Steve. I can’t believe you made fun of me for Tammy, at least she didn’t give me a concussion!” 

“I deserved that concussion,” he protests. “Besides, it was a tiny one! That was, like, nothing compared to what Billy gave me.” Or the one he probably has right now, but neither of them point that out. 

“He stole your girlfriend.”

“Why do you keep saying that? There was no stealing anything. Nancy’s a human being, with, like, agency and shit.”

“Didn’t he take naked pictures of you guys?”

“What?” He sounds alarmed. “Is that what you heard?”

“Did he not?”

“Well…”

She laughs, disbelieving. 

“He apologized!” He says. “And he’ll never do it again, and I broke his camera for it anyway, so I kind of got retribution. Maybe too much retribution. I cannot overstate how much I deserved that beat down, I was an asshole to him.”

“God, you are not helping your case at all,” she giggles. He pouts at her, until he starts giggling too, and then they’re both laughing their asses off on the shitty basement floor until they lose their breath. 

They get lucky, she’s told while they’re in the hospital for smoke inhalation and a dozen other things. They were only in that basement for 24 hours until the police (re: Dustin and Erica) found them. It felt like a lifetime. 

She gets to sign out after six hours. Steve has to stay for two days. 

The nurses have to practically boot her out the door before she’ll leave his side. 

“I’m fine, Rob,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’ve had worse.”

“I sure hope not!” The nurse exclaims as she’s checking over the monitor. “Young man, you are suffering from a Grade 3 concussion, bruised and broken ribs, smoke inhalation, multiple lacerations—“

“Jesus, okay, we get it!”

She gives him a scathing look before sweeping out of the room. Robin raises her eyebrows. “You’re fine, huh?”

The look he gives her could kill a lesser man. “Go home, Robin.”

“I’m staying the night.”

“You’re definitely not doing that.”

[icequeenbae]

You Bet Your Ass (m) | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Established Relationship, PWP, slice of life, fluff, smut

Warnings: explicit content, unprotected sex, anal (m receiving while being a drama queen about it), sex toys (picture fluffy tail butt plugs)

Word Count: ~3.6k

Summary: Baekhyun realizes that betting his ass for a petty argument with his partner was moronic. He is a man of his word though. He will follow through.

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Author’s note: Yay, it’s time to celebrate another milestone!! Thank you guys for joining me on this wild ride haha I hope you enjoy this little somethin’ bbhorny times detected lmao This would be a little different rip Baek's ass but I just wrote that on a whim in a couple of days and thought it’s great for the occasion. Let me know if you enjoyed it!

Tags: @k-vanity  @exo-writers-net @bbh-net @superm-net

Baekhyun’s eyes were rounder than the moon when he realized that he was wrong.

You were having a very out of the blue argument just the other day, and the fatal words had escaped his mouth.

‘Can you bet your ass that you’re right?’

It wasn’t even a real issue to fight about. The reason you got so fired up over nothing was alcohol, of all things. Neither one of you was willing to let it go and leave the other one having the last word, so...

Baekhyun fucked up.

‘When we confirm that I’m right, I’ll shove the fluffiest puppy dog tail butt plug up your ass and have you call me master.’

Baekhyun royally fucked up.

‘Might clamp your cute little nipples too.’

Baekhyun dug his own grave.

‘Or I will shove it up yours and have you eat your words.’ You simply rolled your eyes at him then, and to a clueless spectator it could seem like you’d forget about this petty argument by tomorrow.

But there you were the next day, standing right in front of your bed and drilling Baekhyun’s bloodless face with your eyes.

‘I told you it wasn't Bugatti. It’s number two on the list.’

Baekhyun was almost glad that you enunciated that, because he couldn’t see the screen in front of him. He stayed still for a bit, as if his soul had fled from his body, leaving him behind as a lifeless shell. His head was a vacuum, and his usually quick-witted mind was failing him at this crucial point of his existence. A few more moments passed before he slowly looked up at you, like a bashful child.

‘Heh,’ he laughed awkwardly, and you only offered him a perfunctory smile. ‘Rolls-Royce Boat Tail is more expensive? It seems like I’ve- made a mistake?’

‘You were totally wrong.’ You responded mercilessly, making him shudder.

‘Babe-’

‘Oh no. Forget it.’ You raised your palm, cutting him off. ‘I had to listen a-a-all night how ‘fun’ it’s gonna be for you to see me all fluffy-tailed and roughed up.’

‘I said no such thing!’ Baekhyun shrieked, quickly catching himself as you gave him a look. ‘Babe…’

‘Did you not?’ You huffed, crossing your arms on your chest. ‘I assume you also do not recall running your mouth about my nipples?’

Baekhyun licked his lips nervously and swallowed.

He remembered. He remembered how he initiated his own demise. Was he for real? And for such a nonsensical argument too…

Baekhyun dropped on his knees right in front of you, and you almost jumped from the sound of him crashing on the floor so dramatically.

‘Y/N-ie, I was in the wrong.’ He said, hugging your legs. ‘I’m sorry.’

When your ass is on the line, nothing would be beneath you, not even begging, right?

However, this did not faze you at all. You were so used to his antics that it only made you even more determined not to let him off the hook.

‘Oh, but Baekhyunie… What should we do? You’ve already purchased the device for the execution.’

This was the reason why Baekhyun avoided drinking as best he could. He didn’t just get himself into the most ridiculous entanglements, he also acted whimsically on his urges. Say, going to a specialized shop to buy the fluffiest looking tail butt plug and a pair of fluffy ears to match. He went as far as to tell the poor cashier that he was going to put it to very good use.

Well, he didn’t specify on whom.

‘Worry not, my love. I got some nipple clamps and a collar to complete your-’

‘Ba-abe-’ He muttered desperately into your thigh, hugging your hips even tighter. ‘Please, I can’t do it…’

‘Why is that?’ You huffed, although unable to resist the temptation to ruffle his soft blonde hair with your right hand.

‘I just can’t,’ he whined childishly, offering no reasoning.

‘It’s funny how you assumed that I was gonna do it the second we ‘confirm’ that you’re right. And now you’re a groveling mess at a mere thought, and I’m supposed to be the better man?’

Baekhyun knew you were right.

He also knew that if he whined for a bit longer, you would probably leave him be. But your words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was pretty obnoxious about this when you made the damn bet, and he was the one who initially suggested the punishment. And he was so sure he was right that he didn’t even try for a second to step into the loser’s shoes. He didn’t think it through, and now he had to stand by his word and meet his fate like a man. This was only fair to you. Maybe a little less fair to his butt.

You craned your neck forward to peek when Baekhyun became silent for too long. He did make you kinda angry earlier, you weren’t gonna lie, and you were almost determined to make him suffer for it. But he was still your partner, and you loved him. So, when you noticed that he was getting way too stressed about it, your hand moved smoothly to pet his hair calmingly.

‘Baekhyun-ah…’

‘I’ll do it.’ He said curtly.

His voice sounded small and dispirited, and it took you another second to catch his meaning.

‘Huh?’

This time, he made an effort to sound more confident.

‘I said, I’ll do it.’

~

That exchange took place last week. And he still couldn’t do it.

He made an unenthused attempt on that very day, actually. Made a huge mess on the bed, trying to utilize massage oil to get himself ready. Instead, he simply oiled up all of the sheets, and his entire body, and didn’t manage to get the butt plug anywhere near his ass. He was screeching and wailing and groaning – all that without getting it even 0.1 inch in.

You felt like watching it was worse than just doing it yourself.

‘Babe, just give up. I don’t want you to suffer like this.’

‘No. I said I’ll do it, so I will, I just need to prepare. Shall we reschedule for Saturday?’

He had probably hoped that Saturday would never arrive, but it did. And even then, he had yet to muster the courage to take on his punishment with dignity.

But it’d been an hour, and you were getting tired of watching him huffing and puffing, crying about the injustices of life and his poor asshole. He was buck naked the entire time too.

‘I’m also cold… Why is it so cold in our house? Can’t we afford heating? I should try and earn more money…’

You sighed.

‘Baekhyun, it’s not gonna work.’ You stretched your arms and legs before sitting down next to him. ‘Either quit it or let me do it for you.’

‘You? Do it for me?’ He shook his head. ‘Impossible. I’d like to preserve at least some dig-’

‘Lie flat on your belly. Right now.’ You ordered strictly.

‘Yes, ma’am.’

You smiled at his sudden obedience. He obviously trusted you to help him get it over with, but preferred to be strongarmed into doing this. To preserve some ‘dignity’.

‘Just relax, baby. You’re way too tense.’

Climbing on top of him, you poured some of that massage oil onto his bare back. You ran your palms up along his spine smoothly, and Baekhyun grunted like an old man.

‘God, you are just one giant knot.’ You muttered, putting a little more force into it.

Another muffled grunt escaped his mouth, this time sounding a bit more like a moan.

‘Here, here, grandpa. You can entrust yourself to me. Both your back and your butt.’

He grumbled into the pillow, and you could not make out his words. Instead, you went up his shoulders to knead the back of his neck. This spot was always sore, and he did not surprise you by suddenly going tense and groaning loudly before deflating into a lax mess.

‘You know what, Y/N…’ He mumbled between sighs of contentment. ‘You can fuck me in my ass right now and I won’t object.’

‘That’s the plan,’ you giggled, satisfaction washing over you just from seeing his reaction to your touch.

Of course, you knew all of his spots, both physical and emotional. It did not take you long to turn him into a whimpering puppy. The only thing missing was the tail.

‘Seriously though,’ Baekhyun spoke up hoarsely. ‘I think I’m getting hard.’

You tugged your shirt off and leaned onto his back, allowing him to feel your half-naked body.

‘Good for you,’ you purred into his ear, chuckling as he squirmed.

Hand snaking under his abdomen, you found yourself squeezing his length.

‘You’re not ‘getting hard’, baby. You are hard,’ you hummed, giving him a couple abrupt pumps before running your oily fingers over his lower stomach. ‘Let’s get you ready.’

Baekhyun whined and hugged his pillow, while you crawled towards the edge of your bed to get the discarded lube. When you shuffled closer to him again, you couldn’t resist slapping his cute round butt.

‘Ouch!’ He yelped just for the sake of it.

‘Don’t be so sensitive, sweetie,’ you mocked him lovingly.

‘You mean!’ He answered sulkily.

‘I am very nice! And I wouldn’t start a quarrel with me if I were you. My finger’s about to be shoved up your ass quite literally.’

He was whinging again, but quickly recollected himself, throwing a blue glove at your face.

‘At least use this.’

‘Are we playing doctor?’ You teased him lightheartedly.

‘Y/N, I’m gonna die. I’m literally dying.’

‘Okay, okay.’ You capitulated, putting the glove on. ‘Drama queen.’

It wasn’t like you were a pro in this either. He was the one who had put you in this position, not that you’d asked to do this. However, you did use the time in between his last attempt to pop his anal cherry and today to gather some helpful information. So, you were intending on using it to your benefit tonight.

‘You will like it more than me, that you can count on,’ you reassured him.

‘I seriously doubt it,’ he grumbled before jumping up. ‘Ah-ah-ah, what are you doing, I’m not ready!’

‘Sorry, I poured too much lube by accident,’ you smiled sheepishly. ‘Lie back down before it gets smeared all over the sheets.’

He kept complaining under his breath but obeyed.

‘Can you like… perk up your butt a little?’ You asked, trying to find a comfortable position to start.

‘No.’ He shot back unapologetically. ‘I’ll die.’

‘Why do you keep dying before anything happens?’ You reproached him. ‘You are such a pussy.’

Baekhyun turned his head around dramatically to glare at you.

‘What?’ You stared back. ‘Did I lie? Am I wrong?’

He turned back to his pillow and slightly repositioned himself, bending his right knee.

‘Good. Arch your back a little too.’ You pressed on his lower back, and he grumbled again.

‘You hate my guts, don’t you?’

‘I love you a million, baby.’ You replied with a smile, barely containing a schoolgirl giggle from locating his asshole. ‘Wow, I didn’t expect you to prepare. How neat.’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ he replied, also laughing despite his embarrassment and frustration.

You traced his butt cheek with your index finger before rubbing his anus lightly.

‘Oh shit-’ He tensed up under the pad of your finger, and cursed again.

Giving him some time to adjust to the light strokes, you kept spreading lube over his sphincter.

‘Are you still dying, hon?’ You inquired. ‘Try to relax.’

‘I can’t believe I’m doing this,’ he gurgled into the pillow he kept holding onto.

‘We can stop if you-’

‘Just get it over with! And then I can proceed and finalize my death.’

‘What an honorable man,’ you noted sarcastically. ‘If you squeeze your butt like that, I won’t be able to do anything.’

He huffed like an intimidating hedgehog, and then sighed, giving up the last of his pride.

‘Okay. Just please don’t rip my ass.’

‘Have you seen the size of this plug? You’ll live.’

As soon as he relaxed enough for you to try something, you probed at his ring of muscles again. Praising him for keeping it more or less slack, you were able to insert one digit.

He was now only communicating in breathy curses, so you added more lubrication before slipping your finger out and inserting it back in just as carefully. It took a while for Baekhyun to get used to it and stop resisting the intrusion, and you were beginning to feel more and more like a doctor performing a procedure on him.

‘You’re doing great, baby. Two fingers in.’

‘Y/N… I can’t do this…’ He muttered feverishly, and you knew he didn’t mean it.

Frankly, he looked like he was simply in denial about enjoying this. But he had no idea that you would not rest until you found the most intriguing spot. It was the only reason you had agreed to the whole thing. You were curious about what would happen if you located it and stroked over it gently.

Like so.

‘A-a-ah!’ He jolted, and squeezed your fingers almost painfully.

‘What?’ You asked, unsure about his reaction.

‘That- what was that?’ He muttered, gripping the pillow case with his fist.

‘Did it hurt?’

‘It hurts now… But not before.’

‘It wouldn’t hurt if you relax! And I think it was your prostate. Didn’t know it’s that sensitive though.’

‘My wha-’

‘Can I stroke it again?’ You asked, enthusiasm reignited in you, despite getting rather stiff from the position you had to be in.

‘No! Leave my prostate alone,’ he barked, yet perked his ass up higher.

‘Getting mixed signals here. Should I read your ‘no’ as a ‘yes please’?’

‘Y/N…’ He whined, and you circled his spot again. ‘If you do, I think- I think I’m going to-’

‘Die?’

‘Come…’

You oh-ed in surprise. Not that you didn’t do your research, but the pace of this was unexpected.

‘Not yet. There’s one little thing left.’

You slowly slipped your fingers out of him, making him groan.

Finally, the intricate sex toy was in your hand, ready to be deployed. In several modes too, but your wrought-up partner didn’t need to know just yet. Thus, you had placed an important appliance under one of the pillows earlier.

After holding it for a few moments to make it comfortably warm – Baekhyun was a whiny little bitch, after all – you spread a sufficient amount of lube on it to make sure it’d fit easily.

Baekhyun could be heard cursing again.

‘Okay, come to momma.’

He emitted a growl, which thinned out into a whine.

You sat next to him and stroked his butt cheeks. Now that you were thinking of it, he would look pretty good with a fluffy tail. You didn’t know you had it in you, but now you certainly felt aroused at the thought of pulling at it as he fucked you. Wouldn’t that be just perfect?

‘Shit, it’s cold!’ He complained as soon as you pressed the metal body of the plug to his hole.

‘You are very high-maintenance, did you know that?’ You complained right back. ‘Take it if you wanna finish tonight.’

‘Why do you hate me so mu- a-ah-’

The plug slipped into him with much less resistance than you’d anticipated, and all that was visible now was the tail.

‘How is it?’ You asked, genuinely curious. ‘Baekhyunie? How does it feel?’

He kept breathing through it for another minute, and then managed to retort.

‘Like it doesn’t belong there…’ He tried to glance at his poor ass, but gave up halfway. ‘My life is a joke…’

‘I bet it is.’

He made an effort to glare at you.

‘Get over here.’ His angelic blond hair made him appear much less menacing than he wanted to.

You stretched out next to him, but not before removing the rest of your clothes to become equally as naked.

‘Fuck.’ Baekhyun cursed, burying his face in your breasts. ‘Remind me to never argue with you again, ever…’

‘I thought you were having fun,’ you ruffled his hair a bit, while he was letting you.

‘Yah. The pain in my butt hole isn’t really aligning with my idea of fun.’

You shoved him back slightly to get him off your chest, and groped his ass. The disturbance made him flinch, although not entirely displeased.

‘How would you react if I told you that this cute fluffy thing actually has a pretty handy remote?’

The blond looked confused, but only for a second – before you gripped at the base of his ‘tail’ and angled it.

‘Ah! Fuck this shit!’ Baekhyun moan-yelled, confirming that the toy was damn near his spot.

Chuckling at this, you leaned in to kiss his bare shoulder and reached under the pillow in the search of the said appliance.

‘There it is.’ You showed Baekhyun the remote. ‘I bet this will be nice.’

You clicked once, not giving your partner a chance to say anything.

‘Oh shit-’ He jolted in your arms, and clenched his jaw. ‘Y/N…’

‘I know, baby. I won’t ramp it up much.’ You promised, pressing your index finger to one of his nipples.

The tiny bud was firm, and you could see Baekhyun shiver from the touch.

‘Should’ve clamped them in the beginning…’ You mused, gradually increasing the vibration of the toy. ‘Does this feel alright?’

Baekhyun moaned in response.

‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ you snickered.

He didn’t let you laugh for much longer though, grabbing your waist and pushing you back down. Opening your legs roughly, he got between them and instantly pressed his hard cock against your labia.

‘Fucking hell-’ He gritted out, as soon as his hips snapped forward, disturbing the plug inside him.

‘This is kinda hot, I’m not gonna lie,’ you sighed, stroking his lower back. ‘Move or I will level your ass massage up again.’

‘Fuck no, I already feel like I could come…’ Baekhyun replied quickly, slowly retracting his pelvis before swaying it into you. ‘Shit, Y/N, it just feels so weird-’

‘Weird but nice, right?’ You lowered your hand to tug on his ‘tail’ again.

‘Oh god please-’ He sighed, dropping his head on your shoulder.

You could feel him shake every time you adjusted the toy. It was definitely affecting his prostate, and the sobbing he tried to muffle by your skin only confirmed it.

‘Babe,’ he moaned, renewing his slow thrusts into you. ‘You want my death or what?’

Snickering at his words, you playfully scratched his upper back with both hands.

‘Faster.’ You replied simply, grasping the remote again.

Baekhyun focused on delivering upon your request, and you physically shuddered with him. The vibration was quite literally driving him mad, so he was soon groaning in both pain and pleasure. His speech was incoherent, and you weren’t sure how many times you had clicked the button, but you could hear – almost feel – the vibration ripping through his tight muscles and abusing his prostate.

You knew his hips were moving on their own, more out of instinct rather than intent, but it was all fine. At this point, you just wanted him to finish. The buildup left both of you a complete mess, and the craving you had in you now was more of his euphoria, not yours.

‘I’m c- babe I’m-’ He tried to speak, but the intense sensation overwhelmed him to the point of squealing.

Readily clutching the remote, you pressed the button several times to avoid overstimulating him instead of prolonging his pleasure, and he still allowed a high-pitched whine to escape. He was trembling and writhing on top of you, and you could feel the hot creamy wetness pooling at your own entrance. The visual stimulation sent you into overdrive.

‘Fuck, Baekhyun-’ You moaned, eyes closing shut as you joined your partner in the oblivion.

~

It was at least half an hour later that you were finally able to untangle yourselves from each other, and free Baekhyun’s abused asshole. Not without him grunting and grumbling the entire time, of course.

‘Shit. I won’t be fucking sitting down for a fucking week.’ Your partner complained in a tired voice, flinching as his sphincter constricted again after the plug was removed.

‘Lying down is better anyways,’ you hummed, planting an impish kiss onto his butt cheek.

Baekhyun muttered something incoherent, and you were sure there was more diffident cursing in there.

You scooted closer to him and stroked his hair lovingly. Suddenly you realized that you did not employ all the inventory you had prepared.

‘Damn, we forgot about the ears and the collar too!’ You gasped. ‘Well, you can always wear them next time…’

You shrugged, trailing off, and turned to him, anticipating his reaction.

Baekhyun’s face assumed the most scandalized expression.

‘Next time?!’

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog, it is important to me and I appreciate your feedback💜 As usual, my asks are open~

[nonotnolan]

Cursing Fate

“See, I told you there were much better host bodies than mine,” I said to myself as I walked past the tennis courts on my way into the gym.  Well, more specifically, I said it to the alien passenger inside of my body, but it was the same thing, really.  

I was on my way to my eight AM class when I noticed something moving in a nearby alleyway.  I thought maybe it would be a kitten or a raccoon, but when I knelt down to investigate, something slimy crawled up my arm and into my ear.  My hand was barely at the side of my face to try and brush it off, when suddenly I had no control over my body anymore.  He wasn’t very forthcoming with any information, but I was able to convince him to take over someone else’s body.  I’d dreamed of encountering an alien lifeform like this... I just needed to convince him that he could trust me.

“Derek is who I was planning to give you,” I said as we walked past him.  “That’s him in the green t-shirt.  I’ll slip you into his locker so that you can ambush him, and then when I’m done with class we can meet back up.”  Until today, I had been cursing fate for making my college require a PE class credit for graduation, but if it meant having one of the myriad sexy athletes who taunted my daydreams as a boyfriend, it will have all been worth it.  Especially if that sexy athlete is also an alien who needs help learning and assimilating into our culture.

“I find this an acceptable agreement,” the alien said, taking temporary control of my voice to communicate with me.  The feeling of becoming a passenger inside of my own body was still incredibly surreal, and frankly a bit nerve-wracking.  Still, better him than me.  It was hard to feel sorry for him when he’d always been such a homophobic asshole-- he had started giving me extra shit once he noticed the pride pin on my backpack.  He was a country boy through and through, and as such he had no patience for my existence.

I opened my locker, quickly shucking off my street clothes and slipping on my swimsuit.  “Derek’s locker is the one right next to mine,” I whispered, tapping it with my hand.  The alien made no response, instead taking full control of my body-- effectively freezing me in place.  It was probably for the best that I couldn’t move, because the alien decided to exit through my cock.  

It was the most orgasmic sensation I’d ever felt, and I absolutely would have let out an embarrassingly loud moan if I’d had control of my voice.  Instead, he dropped onto the bench and crawled into Derek’s locker through the seams.  I took a few moments to catch my breath, hoping no one noticed anything unusual.  Hopefully I’d been able to disguise my breathing enough to avoid anyone hear me panting for air.  I was already unpopular-- the last thing I needed was to be known as the guy who jizzes uncontrollably in the locker room.

Swim class was quite possibly the longest 50 minutes I have ever had to endure.  The class was annoying enough on a good day-- despite it being an intro class, the teacher was a complete hard-ass who graded on results, not participation.  It’s hard to enjoy the eye candy all around me when I’m having to work my ass off just for a C grade.  But today?  Knowing that my alien friend was waiting in Derek’s locker, ready to ambush him and take control of his body... the anticipation was killing me.  As much as I wanted to rush out once class ended, I knew that would raise way too much suspicion.  Better to stay behind, and let everyone else leave before me.  All the same, I found myself cursing fate for requiring so much patience from me.

“As you can see, it worked.”  I retuned to my locker only to find Derek sitting there, waiting for me.  I was glad that I had decided to linger out by the pool, because seeing Derek’s body posed so seductively gave me an instant erection that my swim trunks were incapable of hiding.  The alien laughed, and motioned me closer.  “He’s very grossed out right now, you know.  I can hear him screaming inside of his head, calling you some very cruel words just for the crime of being attracted to him.”

I couldn’t help but smile.  The thought of having control over Derek’s fate was tantalizing.  “Well, I bet it will make him even angrier to learn that I’m the reason you made your way into his locker.  And it will serve him right, the bastard.”

“It sure did.  He’s screaming right now,” he said, tapping the side of his head.  “It’s almost a shame that you can’t hear him.  When I was inside of you, I could sense the mixture of jealousy and hatred you bear toward him.  Hearing his pain might have given you closure.”  Derek rose to his feet, standing so close to me that our bodies were practically touching.

My heart was racing.  Was the alien doing this on purpose?  “Well, I can, uhhh...” I paused, taking a deep breath.  “I can think of another way I might be able to get closure.”  With that, I leaned forward and kissed Derek on the lips.  In turn, the alien grabbed the back of my head and started making out with me.

I couldn’t believe my luck!  I let myself relax, allowing the alien to penetrate my mouth with Derek’s tongue.  Only, something else entered as well, leaving Derek’s mouth and crawling down my throat.  I tried to break away, but Derek’s grip hardened, holding my head in place.  I started to dry heave as my body tried to expel the intruder, but it was too late.

“Allowing you to remain free would have been a liability, but one easily solved.”  Derek said, putting on his trademark ballcap while I once again lost control of my body.  “You have the honor of being controlled by the first offspring I’ve made on this planet.  Or did you really think I was going to let you escape, even after you had learned about the secret of my kind’s existence?”

I could do nothing as my body wiped its lips dry.  “Even more comical, sir,” it said, using my voice.  “It wanted to enter a courting relationship with you.  It hoped that you would fall in love with him while inside of your current host body.”

Derek started to laugh.  “I had wondered why it was trying to help me with the invasion.  Well, then... request denied.  But before we try to replicate and obtain more hosts, I think we should investigate this ‘sex’ ritual that humans find so important.  Follow me.”

I watched helplessly as my body followed Derek into a shower stall.  Until today, I would have given anything to hook up with Derek.  Now, however, I was cursing fate for reducing me to nothing more than a passenger inside of my own body.  I found myself looking into Derek’s eyes as his body was railing my tight hole, pondering what thoughts were going through his head.  We were both nothing more than prisoners inside of our own minds, now.  I wonder if he might ever forgive me.

[issie-https]

Valentine

Izzy Stradlin X Reader

A/n: First one shot!! Hope y’all enjoy! Also, I’m so excited to see 5sos later this year which is why I chose this song❤️ We’re also gonna pretend it existed in the 80s. Link to the song is above❤️

Word count: 800

Warnings: Fluffy Izzy🫣🤭

Main masterlist

༺✧༻

“Jeff? Where is my red dress?” I shouted to my roommate. I was meant to be getting ready for a date with a guy Axl had set me up with but, for some reason, my dress I had bought was missing. “It’s not in your closet?” He replied with a smirk evident in his voice. “Obviously not, dummy,” I rolled my eyes. “Well I guess you can’t go on that date then,” he said, coming into my room with a grin on his face. “Jeff, please. It’s not important to me but to Ax,” I whined. “How many times have I told you you don’t have to please him. Just stay home with me, we can watch cheesy movies, eat shit food that will shorten our lifespan and cuddle. Please,” he asked, looking me in the eyes. “Jeffery Dean Isbell, give me that damn dress,” I gritted my teeth at him. Yes, he’s putting up a good offer but he’s also pissing me off. “Nope, if you can find it, you can have it,” He smirked. I rolled my eyes, looked at him and made a beeline for his bedroom on the other side of the house. Just as I was about to reach the door, he caught me and slung me over his shoulder. “JEFF! PUT ME DOWN!” I shouted. “No,” he simply replied. That really is his favourite word. He carried me downstairs to the coat and shoe cupboard and shoved me in there. “You can stay locked into there until you agree to stay home with me,” he insisted. “Izz, this is imprisonment. ITS ILLEGAL!” I screamed the last bit, pounding on the door. “Do I look like I care?” He stated. “I don’t know. There’s a door in the way of your face,” I retorted. “And it’s going to stay that way and locked until your little lover boy arrives here and I tell him you’re not home. Or, you can tell him to not bother coming because you’ve changed your mind,” he rambled. “Get me the damn phone then,” I gave in.

I called my date and told him that I’m not very well and he should find someone else to take out, satisfying Izzy. “Happy, Cupid?” I sneered. “More than happy, Santa Claus,” he laughed. “How am I Santa?” I protested. “Look in the mirror,” he said. I stood up, looked at my reflection and say that I had a milk moustache and the cookie in my hand just added to it. “Oh,” I laughed, sitting back down on the sofa. We had a record playing in the back while we were playing poker -our only bets being food and truths - so far, I had won 2 rounds and Izzy had won 5. Not that I’m bad at poker!

Just as we were about to deal the cards for the next round, my favourite song on the record came on. “I love this song!” I exclaimed, jumping up from the sofa and started dancing around the living room. I spun around, jumped about and walked back over to Izzy. “Dance with me,” I said, holding my hand out to him. “No,” he simply replied. “Too bad, because I wasn’t asking,” I said, yanking him up off the sofa. I resumed dancing around and he just stared at me. I could feel his eyes watching me. “What?” I questioned. “You’re adorable,” he replied, walking over to me. He turned me to face him, placed his arms around my waist and I put my arms around his neck while we danced around together. “Jump,” he blurted. “What?” I said, confused. “Jump, I wanna hold you,” he stated simply. I jumped up and he put his arms just under my ass, holding me safely. He started spinning us around and jumping about, slightly mocking me. “Careful, you’re gonna drop me!” I laughed. “You’ll be fine,” he laughed back. I looked into his eyes and he stood still, looking back into my eyes. We both leaned in, our lips joining in a needy, passionate kiss. We both pulled away, being starved for air. “We just kissed,” I confirmed. “That we did. There’s a reason I didn’t want you to go on that date tonight, Y/n,” he said. “Because you want to kidnap me and murder me?” I joked. “Don’t be a mood killer, you little shit. But no, I wanted to ask you something,” he said. “Okay, ask away,” I smiled at him. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked, like it was the last thing he’d get to say. “I- Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, you weirdo,” I smiled. We kissed again, and again, and again. “God, I’ve waited for this,” he smiled against my lips, carrying me over to the sofa. “Me too,” I replied.

[pocketstoriesstore]

Hey there. Sorry for my choice of words, I’m from BR and I love to write, but I write in Portuguese 🤭 this time I decided to do different so here we are. I hope you like this piece of story.

More coming soon.

————————————🫀—————————————

“SOUNDS FAIR”

Part I.

You're counting the minutes to finish the activities at the bar where you've been working the last few days.

You decided to accept the job just to be able to spend some time with your best friend since you arrived in her city to visit and, to be honest, you also needed to reset your thoughts and inspirations , after working for six years with different types of art.

Maybe it's true what they say about hard work being good for the mind, because the two of you spend the hole time laughing your asses off under your hands and behind the pillars so your customers don't feel uncomfortable with your inside jokes- and whining.

You both complain more than anything, but in your case it's not always a joke.

In fact, exaggerated jokes and lamentations helps you to get rid of memories from a past that you don't want to remember so soon, at least while you can't be strong enough to face it.

But that Tuesday promised more than any of the eight days of staying at Eliz's house.

Almost eleven o’clock. You two were ready to leave work a little earlier, so you decided to spend the last minutes smoking in the back of the bar (hidden from Eliz's father, who abhorred cigarettes although he also sells them to the costumers), complaining about the loneliness of the lack of a new love in your very difficult lives of endless work.

Elizabeth:“Could it be that it was easier to be a hooker than a bartender? “

You laughed out loud at the question.

You:”At least hookers are never alone."

E: "You see: they have sex, they are never alone and they parade around much prettier than the two of us, who smell like cigarettes and beer"

y:”Elizabeth, for god's sake!"

E:”Look at our hair! We need help!"

Y: “Any help is welcome. Anything, seriously, I’ll die one of this days, you’ll see.”

While you put out your cigarette and get ready to make your way to the bar again to take your bag, a motorcycle whose model you merely know as a road passes by you slowly, but you can't see the face of the blond rider. He seemed to be looking for a place to park among so many other motorcycles.

You strain to see his face without looking like an obvious idiot, and hope he's a bar costumer.

Well, he stops where you want. He looks around, so you can see his face. What a godamn face! You feel almost angry.

For a second he seemed to glance at you, but that would be too much for your sick mind. That was too fast, did he see you? You don’t know, but you saw him.

Goal.

E:”Oh, this guy is such a dream! They say he works for the police, but he doesn't talk to anyone so I don’t know. Once I asked my father about him and his name, but he told me that he was only sure that he would like me having all this interest in keeping the family business on tracks.”

You laugh.

E: Seriously, I've already made myself look ridiculous twice trying to get his attention, spent three therapy sessions confused as to whether I felt rejected or whether he really exists.

Elizabeth talks a lot, but that time you WANTED to hear a lot.

E: He literally didn’t look me in the face. NEVER. He always orders whiskey, reads some messages on the phone, checks his watch all the time, looks around as if he’s waiting for someone, and only talks to my father and Sebastian, the waiter who replaces us when we leave earlier. He smells so good! His helmet sits at my dad's feet at the till because my dad is afraid I'm going to grab it and give it back to the owner just to try to talk to him, cause I did that once but he just said "thank you". I hate him.

You laugh even more.

Y: He hated you first, he deserves all your hate, baby. And you know what? Today I’ll give back the helmet to him. After pouring him his whiskey, of course.

E: No way! Please avenge me! I'll pay you fifty dollars if you do this! My God, I feel hysterical, I'm going to die laughing!

Y: Well, let's find out his name, too. If you want to know his age, marital status, even if he is a police officer as they say, increase the value to one hundred dollars and I’ll give it all to you.

You live her at the corner of the bar door, laughing as she watches.

You get inside the bar at the same pace you usually work at, take the bottle of whiskey and pour it into the glass while chasing him around. But you don't see him.

you feel the frustration filling your lungs, because you made huge plans in a few seconds and even less meters away. You already wanted all that so much. Why? Was all that loneliness? What a ridiculous situation.

At least you tried to keep that little heartbeat you felt a few minutes ago.

With your melted face and the eternal seconds passing you by, you felt even more anxious, quitting the hole day like you've paid your karma for betting someone's personal informations for a few dollars.

Y:” Okay, that’s why I never play games.”

You rip off your apron, swallows all the whiskey from the glass at once, lights another cigarette with the bar lighter - because even your own lighter was gone, and goes towards the door, feeling your throat still burning with whiskey.

Suddenly he comes in and your heart stops.

He puts out his cigarette, takes your lighter out of his pocket, holds it out to give it back to you and says, in the lowest and calmest voice as it’s possible, with a hint of laughter:

"A hundred dollars, huh? Sounds fair. Name’s Leon."

[ace-harrington]

I’ll Be Home For Christmas

I just decorated my house for Christmas so here a short Christmas blurb, this is also my first published piece so I didn’t go too crazy lmao

Steve Harrington x OC

No Warnings!!

“Steve.” I say poking his arm. He stays asleep. “Steve.” Once again, no response. “Steve! Wake up.”

“What?” He says groaning, hiding his face from me.

“Wake up, I want to decorate for Christmas.” I say climbing to straddle him. “Please? If you get up I’ll make you breakfast.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” He asks rolling over to face me.

“I know, I know. But it’s our first Christmas in the house and I want to make it special.” I say leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Please will you help?”

“Yeah I’ll help.” He says making me jump up,

“Great! I’ll start on breakfast.” I say jumping off the bed giving him one last kiss.

I walk to the kitchen and start mixing the pancake mix dancing to Last Christmas coming through the record player.

Halfway through the song I feel Steve’s arms wrap around me as I sway to the beat. I smile and grab his hands and unwrap them from me to dance with him.

I sing the lyrics to him softly while I dance and he watches with a soft smile.

“Ooo ooo, now I found a real love you’ll never fool me again.” I sing to him before wrapping my arms around his waist. “Y’know Christmas was real depressing when this song didn’t exist, best thing that’s happened since Elvis’ Christmas album, it also helps that George Micheal is a total babe.”

“Mmm, I’m glad you say that because I’ve been told by many people that I look like a brunette George Micheal.” He says making me laugh.

“It’s only the hair, but I totally see it.” I say running my fingers through his hair before turning back to the pancakes.

He walks away from me and grabs the orange juice from the fridge to pour us some while I plate our last pancakes and take them to our table.

We eat slowly, not rushing out the door like the day before, for Thanksgiving. When we’re done I turn on my Christmas mixtape to get to work.

“This is a lot of decorations for our small house.” Steve says when I pull the box out of the closet.

“It is a lot now but when it’s up it’s going to look amazing.” I say smiling wide.

Steve takes the outside, hanging up the simple Christmas lights and and wreath before coming back in and taking off most of his layers til he’s back in his pajamas.

An hour later, we’re finally done and our house looks like the North Pole.

“It looks really good.” Steve says wrapping his arms around my shoulders, pulling my back against his front as we admire our work.

“See? I told you it was worth it.“ I say smiling.

“You know this time next year we’ll be married?” He asks putting his lips next to my ear.

“I know. I’m excited.” I say smiling with excitement. “5 months.”

“152 days until you’re my wife.” He says kissing my cheek. “Are you nervous?”

“No, you?”

“No, all I care about is marrying you, everything else could go to shit as long as I’m your husband by the end of the day.”

“I love you.” I say turning around to kiss his lips.

“I love you too.” He says smiling. I smile when I hear Elvis coming from my cassette player. Steve wordlessly let’s go of my waist and trails his hands up my arms to grab my hands.

I smile and put one arm around his waist and one grabbing his hand as we sway to the music. Steve keeps his cheek to my temple as he hums softly to the song that’s playing aloud.

“Christmas eve will find me, where the love light gleams. I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.” He signs softly in my ear, making my eyes drift to close. I keep run my hand up and down his back, feeling the scars along his back from the years before from fighting Vecna.

“Can we stay like this for a bit?” I ask softly, not wanting to move.

“We can stay like this for as long as you want, I have nowhere to be but with you.” He says kissing my forehead.

“Good.” I say smiling softly.

[niemernuet]

😈😈 you have been visited by the brainworm demon, hope this message haunts you all day and gives you unforeseen amounts of psychic damage *muah* (<- this is both a kiss and an evil laugh, just in case it was unclear)

~~ okay but what about a justin who‘s still pissed about the world‘s selection process, now that gino dnf’d more than ever, but he‘s also too good of a friend to bring it up with gino, but the energy has to go somewhere, so he just so he just goes to daniel‘s room and acts like an ass until dani gives in and bitches back and they start wrestling a little too roughly and okay maybe dani gets hard when justin puts his hand on his throat… oops.

Silja, oh my god. Your message is like a nutella-crêpe in this shitty week, and I don't know how I can thank you 💘😘 I have also been thinkin about the weird tension that must now exist in the gs-team, and you are so right that Daniel should absolutely sacrifice himself for the greater good.

Careful, +18 under the cut. (I love you forever and always ❤️)

The door missed Daniel by a hair, and he pressed against the door to the claustrophobically small bathroom as Justin dashed past him into the room.

“Please, come in,” Daniel said, and rolled his eyes.

“I am going to KILL THEM ALL!” Justin bellowed, and whirled around. Murderous rage shone in his eyes, and his hands were balled to fists.

Daniel calmly closed the door, and walked back to his bed where his book lay abandoned. “It was bad luck,” he said, his eyes already scanning the next sentence, and laid back down on the soft mattress.

“It’s not!” Justin howled, and slammed his fists down on the rickety table under the television. “He’s been getting worse and worse in Super-G the longer the season goes, while I got better and better! Without that damn surgery, I’d have outperformed him long ago. I should have started! It was my right!”

Daniel sighed inwardly, and grabbed the bookmark from the nightstand. He knew from long lasting experience that there was nothing he could do but let Justin’s anger run its course, and had braced for the impact since Gino had missed that fateful gate after the sharp turn only a few minutes ago.

“And…what? Are you going to tell him that?”

“Of course not!” Justin yelled at him.

Daniel nodded. “Good.”

“I’m going to tell Krugi! That Austrian prick has it in for me, and I’m no longer going to…”

“No no no!” Daniel cut Justin off, and put the book on the nightstand so he could aim his undivided glare on Justin. “Absolutely not! You are not throwing away your future because Gino missed a gate.”

“It wasn’t just the one gate!” Justin snapped. “They don’t want me to succeed. They think I’m never going to be any good so they don’t even give me the chance to prove myself!”

He crossed his arms, and stared gloomily into the distance. Daniel watched him, half amused but completely fond of Justin’s stubbornness. There had been people, nobody Daniel cared about, who had asked him how he coped with Justin’s hair-trigger temper, that short fuse that could explode at the most unforeseen times. The truth was that Daniel loved it like everything else about Justin. He never held a grudge for long, and made peace as easily as he started a fight. Also, he was breathtakingly sexy in every situation but especially when he was burning with a fury that seemed to take over his whole body. Right now, that fire seemed to get dangerously low though, on the verge of being suffocated under heavy melancholy, and Daniel had to think of something to keep it burning.

“To be fair you most certainly didn’t inspire too much confidence in them after your first race.”

Justin’s eyes turned wide, and he stared at Daniel as if he had slapped him across the face. “In a discipline that I haven’t practised seriously in the last five years!” he answered, and with every word got louder until he was almost screaming. With two steps he was by Daniel’s bed, and propped his hands on the pillow of either side of his head. Daniel grinned, and it did not need more. Justin’s kiss was rough and heavy, teeth scraping over Daniel’s skin and his tongue darting wildly in Daniel’s mouth. Daniel moaned, and grinded against Justin as he clambered on the bed, and sank down on Daniel’s crotch. He pulled away from Justin, panting and laughing as Justin’s hands wandered through his hair and down his cheeks.

“First gate,” he whispered, and the growl Justin gave as an answer ran straight down to his dick while their mouths clashed together again.

“Fuck you!” Justin mumbled into Daniel’s mouth. “Let’s put you on downhill-skis.” His hand left Daniel’s cheek, searching for a way to get rid of Daniel’s shirt but only finding his throat.

And Daniel froze.

“Let’s send you down a Super-G track in front of the world,” Justin snarled, and pressed his lips on Daniel’s again before he realised that something had changed. He stared down at his boyfriend with an exasperated look, and moved his hips tentatively over Daniel’s crotch, eliciting a drawn-out moan from Daniel.

“Seriously?” Justin asked. “I’m trying to be angry here.”

Daniel panted, his whole body still tingling from the shock Justin’s rough touch had sparked. His hands wandered over the rumpled covers, along Justin’s body until he caught his hand, and guided it back to his throat, forcing Justin’s fingers to clamp down into the soft flesh.

“Don’t let me disturb you,” he croaked. Justin chuckled, and silenced Daniel’s new moan with his lips.

“Sssh!” he muttered, pressing their foreheads together. His hips kept moving over Daniel’s , pushing against his painfully hard cock over and over again, and his mouth caught every moan, every curse from Daniel’s lips as he begged for relief. “Quiet! What if people heard us?”

“Let them!” Daniel panted. “Justin…” His hips shot up, searching for relief from Justin. “Please…”

His vision blanked when Justin pushed down once more, the friction from Daniel’s pants scraping along his dick, and new jolts of electricity ran up and down his spine. He came in spurts, pinned down into the mattress by Justin until all tension had left him. The stale air of the small hotel room felt like an icy gust of wind when Justin’s hand left Daniel’s throat, and he tenderly nuzzled Daniel’s cheek while Daniel gathered his breath.

“You have no idea how hot you just looked,” Justin whispered in his ear.

Daniel raised his arms, and pulled him down into a hug. “Are you still angry?” he asked, and softly moved his hips a little bit. A soft hiss escaped him when his overstimulated dick touched against Justin’s erection.

“A little bit,” Justin confessed.

“That means we can’t stop yet,” Daniel said, and kissed him again.

[eternalbuckley]

WHEN I TELL YOU... I RAN ONCE I SAW THAT YOU POSTED THIS AHH !!!!!!

i'm- i have no words, the capter was PERFECT. literallly perfection i swear. i don't full on cry very often while reading something but this entire chapter hit a nerve and made me really emotional. it was so so good. rue, the way how you're able to write and portray emotions is so wonderful, you're really able to feel what the characters feel in these moments, it's truly art and i'm so glad that everyone, including me, is able to read your works. i'm a real sucker for angst and this chapter is just wow. i love it so much and it's absolutely my favourite one. i'm not ready for the last chapter but i just know it will be sooo good. i still have so many thoughts about it but i cannot put them into words right now because i'm still sobbing but they're all good ones!!! 🤍 i'll go and finish crying now 🥹

some reactions of me while reading:

Maybe you will grow tired of whispering his name to yourself, but you have been doing this for the past four or five hours while sitting by the edge of the lake under the clear starry sky, shivering with each cold breeze.

i'm already tearing up and it's only the start of this chapter, someone please hug me.

“C’mon, talk to me,” he urges you, handing you the bottle before he lies on the grass, staring up at the sky as he waits for you to say something, “I know my brother’s an ass.”

aegon being there for clem?? yes please 🥺

“A good guy would never let his girl be insulted in front of everyone,” he scoffs, taking another swig from his bottle, “You didn’t deserve that, sorry on behalf of everyone, Clementine.”

CLEMENTINE OHHH???

“What?” You ask, looking at him with wide eyes, totally surprised by how he knows the childhood nickname Aemond called you once, “How do you know that?” “Fuck me,” he groans, slapping his hand on his forehead, “You tellin’ me he doesn’t call you this to your face?”

OH MY GOD 😭😭

“Duh! Every fucking time!” He tells you as if he is surprised by your confusion, “Oh, man, my brother is such a dumbass. He can’t shut up about you! Every time he opens his mouth all we can hear is Clementine this Clementine that, it’s honestly so annoying! I can’t fucking stand how lovestruck he is—woah, okay, I shouldn’t—” He sits up immediately, reaching to squeeze your shoulder when he notices your eyes watering again, your arms tightening around your legs.

okay no that's it, i'm full on crying now

“What we’re not gonna do is excuse his actions,” he slaps the side of your hip with the back of his hand, “I meant what I said, he doesn’t shut up about you, but he’s also hesitant about everything! You, me, Vhagar, he can’t let himself get hurt again, even though he knows you’ll never leave him on your own record. He fears the thought of leaving you, so he left you first because it hurts him less to think he didn’t like you enough instead of you not liking him enough.”

my poor angel 😔😔😔

“Fucking hell, this guy is a twat I swear,” you laugh a little when Aegon fakes a cry, “Why can’t men be normal for a goddamn second?”

real

“I know you wanted to say give him a blow job, thank you for censoring your words,” you say, standing up before brushing the dirt off your dress, and handing Aegon his coat back. “Actually,” he holds his finger up, giving you a teasing smile, “I wanted to say that you should probably sit on his face so he won’t be able to talk.”

PLEEEEASE 😭😭😭😭

“Was she yours?” You look at him, sucking in a sharp breath when he turns around to look at you, his face red and cheek covered in dried tears, smiling sadly at you.

i'm afraid that my heart can't take this

“Don’t say that,” you swallow, frowning slightly as you reach to cup his cheek, turning his face to stare into his eye, “She’s much happier with you by her side, and I’m forever thankful for your existence.” “You’ll be much happier without me,” he rests his palm on your hand, kissing your thumb as he keeps his gaze locked onto you.

SHHH DON'T SAY SUCH THINGS SIR 😠😠 listen to your girl

“You deserve the fucking world,” he rests his forehead on yours, closing his eye as he lets himself get consumed by your touch, “I can’t give it to you. One day you’ll realize how damaged I am…”

i wish i could just give him a hug that never ends

“You mean everything to me,” he whispers, watching you stand up on shaky legs, brushing the straws off your dress as you try to keep yourself calm and collected, but the soreness in your eyes makes it harder. “And yet you didn’t say you love me back.”

i'm getting my tissues

“Babe,” Helaena notices you when you close the door behind you quietly, crossing the dining hall to pull you into a tight hug, shushing you as you let your sobs wreck your body without a care in this world, “I’m so sorry, beautiful, so so sorry.” “Hey…” Aegon appears beside you, rubbing your back while you bury your face in Hel’s neck, letting her calmness seep into your skin with each caress she leaves on your head.

i love them your honor

“We don’t even like that man! We fucking hate him in fact, so you better keep your shit away from us,” Aegon spits the words out, huffing when he sees Otto glaring at him, “Aemond was ridiculed tonight, at his own fucking birthday and all you care about is his reputation?”

we love big brothers who step up for their younger brother <3

“She’s been Helaena’s friend for so long, Father. Mind your words,” Gwayne interrupts him, crossing his arms as he keeps his eyes locked with his father. “Or what?” Otto spits the words out, his phone clutched in his hand tightly. “Or I will break your fucking neck.” You turn around as soon as you hear Aemond’s voice, clutching Helaena’s hand when he walks very slowly toward his grandfather with his hands behind his back, his head held high.

FUUUUCK YEAH THAT'S WhAT I LIKE YEEEEEEEEEeEEEEEEES

“You wouldn’t dare,” Otto replies, giving Aemond a challenging look, “You didn’t have the courage to open your eyes and see how your fiance was taking advantage of you, now you want to break my neck because I said the truth?” “No one disrespects my girlfriend, not even you,” Aemond stands in front of Otto, his glare unwavering, “She’s only two years older, doesn’t come from a rich family full of snakes, and most importantly, she cares about me. So yes, I would break your neck, because she is different from Alys and even I can see that with one eye.”

GET HIM AEMOND YES

“Hey you,” you greet him softly, watching him curiously as he takes a shaky step to the bed, slowly kneeling in front of you, taking the cream from your hands before he squeezes the tube on his palms, warming the cream before grabbing your ankle to gently apply it on the wounded skin.

always the caring man yup. where's my aemond

“I don’t need a break because I love you,” he looks up at you with the utmost adoration a human can ever possess, “I was a fucking idiot before for pushing you away, for doubting what we have, but I love you so much, my Clementine.”

MY CLEMENTINE???!!! ahhhh i just calmed down from my tears and now they're back 😩

“I saw nothing, it was all black,” he sniffles, one hand coming to rest on the back of your neck as soon as your forehead touches his, “My life doesn’t exist without you. There is no hope left for me if you are gone. I will perish and turn to ashes if I don’t get to hold you at night. I will burn by the humiliation and misery I created for myself because I believed you would leave me.”

my heart i—

“We’re okay,” you whisper, wishing to know if you will be able to hold and touch him like before, “We’ll be okay.” “We are okay,” he nods frantically, “I love you, my gorgeous girl. We’ll be okay. I won’t leave you.” “Neither will I,” you pull him into your arms, pressing his face to your neck as you sob, holding him close, breathing in his calming scent, “I won’t leave you, I will never put you through the pain you endured again.” “I won’t do that either,” he presses a kiss to your neck, brushing his nose against your earlobe, “You’re my everything, I love you.”

i'm dead, i'm not ready to say goodbye to them i—

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond's life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helena's childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who's always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: angggggst, angst, ANGST, no beta we die like Beesbury

Word count: 5k+

A/n: sooooo, thoughts pleaseeeee! I hope you like this chapter! omg we only have one chapter left from this series aaaaa🥹🥹 Comments and reblogs are appreciated<3

-> series masterlist <-

Chapter 9: don’t let me be misunderstood

Aemond.

Aemond.

Aemond.

Maybe you will grow tired of whispering his name to yourself, but you have been doing this for the past four or five hours while sitting by the edge of the lake under the clear starry sky, shivering with each cold breeze.

Aemond.

Aemond.

Aemond.

It sounds more like a prayer rather than his name. Maybe you are praying to him to take mercy on you and walk back the path he took earlier.

You rock on your bottom like a child, holding your knees to your chest as you stare at the reflection of the moonlight on the edge of the water. At this point, your head is emptier than the shadow of a cloud, and you do not know whether the shadow will darken by snow or thunderstorms.

There is little to think about, or maybe too much given how much you have been mumbling to yourself. You thought about all the little things his family said; about you, about Alys, about him — Even the mere thought of him hurts your heart, the flesh ripping slowly as if he has chained your heart tightly, squeezing it tightly.

Shuddering, you look up as the leaves rustle by the cold breeze, creating a soft sound that ripples through the air. You rub your bare arms, cursing yourself for wearing such a beautiful dress for a birthday you were pretty sure it would turn into shambles, but at least you knew Aemond would like it — you do not know if he did or not.

“Hey, loner.”

You turn around, finding Aegon making himself comfortable next to you on the grass, a bottle of whiskey in his hand as he hands you his coat.

“Go on, I’m pretty numb now,” he says, dropping the fabric around your shoulders, nudging you by his elbow, taking a long sip from the amber liquid, “What a shit show, huh?”

“Yeah,” you reply, voice hoarse and raspy with all the crying you have done earlier, sighing loudly, “Yeah.”

“C’mon, talk to me,” he urges you, handing you the bottle before he lies on the grass, staring up at the sky as he waits for you to say something, “I know my brother’s an ass.”

“No, Aegon—“ you sniffle, turning around to look at him, “He is… he is just complicated. He is a good guy—“

“A good guy would never let his girl be insulted in front of everyone,” he scoffs, taking another swig from his bottle, “You didn’t deserve that, sorry on behalf of everyone, Clementine.”

“What?” You ask, looking at him with wide eyes, totally surprised by how he knows the childhood nickname Aemond called you once, “How do you know that?”

“Fuck me,” he groans, slapping his hand on his forehead, “You tellin’ me he doesn’t call you this to your face?”

“No…?” You chuckle, resting your cheek on your knees as you smile softly at him, wiping the remaining tears away, “Does he do it a lot?”

“Duh! Every fucking time!” He tells you as if he is surprised by your confusion, “Oh, man, my brother is such a dumbass. He can’t shut up about you! Every time he opens his mouth all we can hear is Clementine this Clementine that, it’s honestly so annoying! I can’t fucking stand how lovestruck he is—woah, okay, I shouldn’t—” He sits up immediately, reaching to squeeze your shoulder when he notices your eyes watering again, your arms tightening around your legs.

“It’s not…” you take a deep breath,  letting the tears fall freely on your cheeks, “he was so lovely to me, I don’t know what happened but-but maybe I didn’t show him enough love, and reassure him—”

“You’ve got to be fucking kiddin’ me,” Aegon groans, dropping back down on the ground, “He fucked with you and you’re blaming yourself for it? Why the fuck would you do that? Are you a masochist or somethin’?”

“I’m not a fucking masochist, I just… I just love him so much! He thinks I will leave him too because everyone he’s ever loved once left him! Maybe I couldn’t show how much he meant to me, maybe I’m too weak to make sure he knows I love him and I’d rather die than let go of him.”

“Listen to me,” he urges you to lay down beside him, looking at the sky together as he continues talking, “Aemond is a really different man. He isn’t easy to love, hell, even Mum has issues with loving him—“

“That’s not making it any better, Aegon,” you glare at him, words falling from your lips coated in venom, “You’re telling me that even Alicent is hesitant to love him, and I’m supposed to just be okay with that? No wonder he chose to leave.”

“What we’re not gonna do is excuse his actions,” he slaps the side of your hip with the back of his hand, “I meant what I said, he doesn’t shut up about you, but he’s also hesitant about everything! You, me, Vhagar, he can’t let himself get hurt again, even though he knows you’ll never leave him on your own record. He fears the thought of leaving you, so he left you first because it hurts him less to think he didn’t like you enough instead of you not liking him enough.”

“It doesn’t make any sense!” You drop your hands on the grass in defeat, “He’s overthinking this! I know he’s still dealing with the thought of his snake of an ex but… but he needs to let himself feel loved!”

“He does feel loved, and those words didn’t come from his heart. They came from the dark voices in his head, I bet he couldn’t even look at you when he left,” Aegon explains, turning his head to look at your face, “I think you should go find him, I’m pretty fucking sure he’s beating himself to death for doing this to you. But remember that he is the one who needs to apologize, not you.”

“You’re right, he let them call me poor and a gold digger,” you chuckle, sitting up as you speak, “Do you know he said that our relationship was ridiculous?”

“Fucking hell, this guy is a twat I swear,” you laugh a little when Aegon fakes a cry, “Why can’t men be normal for a goddamn second?”

“You realize you’re a man too, right?”

“Yeah, and do I look normal to you?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, sitting up to give you a hug when you laugh, squeezing you into his arms before he lets go, “Give him a piece of your mind, okay? Make him regret it.”

“Fine,” you nod, trying to find enough courage to stand up and leave, but a heavy feeling grounds you, “I think… I think I’m afraid, Aegon.”

“Don’t be, he might seem intimidating but there’s nothing in his heart except the love he has for you. He’s just being a brat. Maybe slap him once or twice and he’ll be at your mercy completely.”

“I know you wanted to say give him a blow job, thank you for censoring your words,” you say, standing up before brushing the dirt off your dress, and handing Aegon his coat back.

“Actually,” he holds his finger up, giving you a teasing smile, “I wanted to say that you should probably sit on his face so he won’t be able to talk.”

“That’s your brother, you disgusting asshole,” you laugh softly, taking your heels in your hands as you walk barefoot in the path Aemond took earlier.

You remember how he would sneak away from dinners when he was a kid, running towards the empty stables with a book under his arm; it was one of the most exciting things for both of you when you searched for him all night, only to find him sitting on straws with a flashlight and his book.

Walking through the dark stables, you see only a few lights on, and your thoughts are confirmed when you slowly stand in front of the open door, finding Aemond sitting on the ground next to a seemingly sick horse, stroking its neck gently.

“They say she’ll die,” his voice comes out in a gentle tone, and for the second time tonight, your eyes fill with tears — the yearning makes your chest tighten, even if it has been only five or six hours since he left you.

You step inside the stall, cautious not to make any sounds to disturb the unconscious horse lying on the ground next to him as you slowly lower yourself next to him on the straws, your bare shoulders brushing against his arm.

“What’s wrong with her?” You ask quietly, trying to keep your tears away from streaming down your face; how can you survive when you hurt just by looking at his side profile?

“Old age,” he sighs, looking down at his lap, pressing his lips into a thin line, “It’s rare, but she’s been clinging to life for so long.”

“Was she yours?” You look at him, sucking in a sharp breath when he turns around to look at you, his face red and cheek covered in dried tears, smiling sadly at you.

“No,” he shakes his head and looks away from you, “She used to be Mum’s favorite. I remember when she would take us to different races with Uncle Gwayne, and tell us about how she was so close to becoming a champion herself with her.”

“Why couldn’t she do it?” You ask, reaching to hold his hand nervously, giving him enough time to pull away but when he doesn’t, you relax instantly.

“She got married,” his answer is curt, as if even the mere thought of his parents being together sours his mood, “Her marriage was the end of her dreams. Maybe she would be happier if she didn’t have us quite young, maybe we would be happier if we didn’t exist.”

“Don’t say that,” you swallow, frowning slightly as you reach to cup his cheek, turning his face to stare into his eye, “She’s much happier with you by her side, and I’m forever thankful for your existence.”

“You’ll be much happier without me,” he rests his palm on your hand, kissing your thumb as he keeps his gaze locked onto you.

“That’s not for you to decide,” you caress his scarred cheek, trembling a bit as you feel the warmth radiating from his skin, “I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you, when I’m kissing you, when I’m holding you.”

“You deserve the fucking world,” he rests his forehead on yours, closing his eye as he lets himself get consumed by your touch, “I can’t give it to you. One day you’ll realize how damaged I am…”

“You don’t need to give me the world, Little nerd, you are my world,” finally the tears stream down your cheeks, soaking your face as you speak, “Don’t push me away, I’m begging you—“

“I’ll only hurt you, and you’ll leave me. Losing me would do less harm than being with me—“ his voice cracks, his hand moving towards your back, rubbing and memorizing every up and down of your waist.

“No, Aemond, no,” you shake your head frantically, sobs wrecking your body as you try to tell him how you feel, “Don’t give up on us! I’m sorry I couldn’t show you how much I love you, I’m sorry if I was not enough for you. But please, please, don’t let go of me!”

“Don’t cry, I can’t-I can’t bear to see you cry. I’d rather get stabbed to death than see your beautiful face covered in tears,” he begs, leaning down to kiss your tears away, “I’m not giving up on us, I…I’m just giving us a break so we can think. I’ve never been loved like you have shown me.”

“Then why?” You scream at him, fisting his shirt to pull him even closer, your nose brushing against his, “Why did you say we were ridiculous? Why did you not stand up for me when I was being humiliated by your family? If I’ve shown how deeply I’ve loved you, why does it feel like it’s not enough?”

“It’s more than enough, my gorgeous girl,” he kisses the bridge of your nose, and you feel his tears fall on your cheek. I’ve been taking you for granted. I…I can’t even defend you against them. I was paralyzed. I wanted to vanish and never be seen again, and now I see why. I’ve failed and hurt you so much, not thinking about how me leaving you alone might make you feel.”

“I love you, Aemond,” you say, words falling from your lips in a breathless whisper, “I love you, I love you— I can’t put into words how in love I am because every time I look at you I feel like I’m suffocating with the amount of affection I hold for you! I’m not good with words, Little nerd, but…but I know that being with you would hurt much less than me moving back to Beesbury knowing we aren’t going to make it.”

“I’m not giving up on us—I…” he sighs, gathering his thoughts as best as he can before he replies, but in truth, he is just as much of a mess as you are, “I need to think.”

“I love you, and even if we don’t make it, just know that you are the happiest most memorable experience of my life,” you lean up a little, planting a gentle kiss on his lips, “Aegon told me about the Clementine thing. I didn’t know you remember.”

“How can I ever forget?” he kisses you again, his heart tightening with each peck he leaves on your lips, “You were so chatty about your silly dreams, and I can’t forget Hel’s confused face when she mumbled about you dreaming of Tangerines.”

“There’s still hope for us, right?” You ask, shaking your head and sobbing when he pulls you into his embrace, holding you against his chest tightly.

“There’ll always be hope for us,” he mutters against your hair, his fingers holding onto your shoulders as if the subtle touch would ground him and not let him drown, “I just need to think.”

“Yeah, sure,” you pull away, wiping your tears before you give him a small smile, watching as the first rays of sunshine fall on the entrance of the stables, and you take it as your cue to leave him with the hope of kissing him again, “I’ll see you inside.”

“You mean everything to me,” he whispers, watching you stand up on shaky legs, brushing the straws off your dress as you try to keep yourself calm and collected, but the soreness in your eyes makes it harder.

“And yet you didn’t say you love me back.”

You leave with one last smile, walking barefoot towards the end of the pathway, heels clinking to each other as you swing them with your hand, biting your lip to stop yourself from falling apart.

The numbness comes back. You can feel how your body gets hollower with each step you take towards the door of the building. Your feet ache, and you know there will be bruises on them in a few hours.

The voices from the inside of the building grow louder, and when you step inside the hall, you find your best friend and her brothers trying to keep their Mother sane while their uncle argues with their grandfather.

“Babe,” Helaena notices you when you close the door behind you quietly, crossing the dining hall to pull you into a tight hug, shushing you as you let your sobs wreck your body without a care in this world, “I’m so sorry, beautiful, so so sorry.”

“Hey…” Aegon appears beside you, rubbing your back while you bury your face in Hel’s neck, letting her calmness seep into your skin with each caress she leaves on your head.

“Where is Aemond?” Otto asks, his voice echoing in the hall, “He needs to get here and explain the mess he made.”

“What?” you whisper in disbelief, slowly removing yourself from Helaena as you look at him, “The mess Aemond made?”

“Father, please,” Alicent says, rubbing the skin of her neck with shaky hands, “It is not Aemond you should be angry at, nor it’s her mess.”

“We ought to be more careful than ever! Your boy has already ruined what we tried to build for so long when she decided to marry a woman nearly ten years older. After everything I have done, everything you have sacrificed, it should not be so hard to put a leash on him and make sure he doesn’t fuck around and make a fool out of us in front of Daemon!”

“What we built is gone, Father,” Alicent sighs, taking a large sip of whatever liquor is in the glass, “They have amazing lives, my children. They are happy at least, happier than me or Gwayne ever were.”

“Happiness won’t make their names pop inside their father’s will!”

“We don’t even like that man! We fucking hate him in fact, so you better keep your shit away from us,” Aegon spits the words out, huffing when he sees Otto glaring at him, “Aemond was ridiculed tonight, at his own fucking birthday and all you care about is his reputation?”

“He is the only person who can change things but now, for getting into another miserable relationship with a nobody, he has lost the chance!”

“She’s been Helaena’s friend for so long, Father. Mind your words,” Gwayne interrupts him, crossing his arms as he keeps his eyes locked with his father.

“Or what?” Otto spits the words out, his phone clutched in his hand tightly.

“Or I will break your fucking neck.”

You turn around as soon as you hear Aemond’s voice, clutching Helaena’s hand when he walks very slowly toward his grandfather with his hands behind his back, his head held high.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Otto replies, giving Aemond a challenging look, “You didn’t have the courage to open your eyes and see how your fiance was taking advantage of you, now you want to break my neck because I said the truth?”

“No one disrespects my girlfriend, not even you,” Aemond stands in front of Otto, his glare unwavering, “She’s only two years older, doesn’t come from a rich family full of snakes, and most importantly, she cares about me. So yes, I would break your neck, because she is different from Alys and even I can see that with one eye.”

“You are blinded by lust because you can’t fall in love in nearly three months after a failed marriage—”

“I swear I will strangle you to death—”

In the blink of an eye, Aemond grabs Otto’s collar, but luckily Gwayne is quick enough to reach them. You watch in terror as Alicent and Aegon try to separate Aemond from his grandfather while Gwayne holds Otto back. You can not see if Aemond is trying to hit him or not but even the idea of him getting hurt because of you makes you tear up.

“Aemond, enough!” you reach and wrap your arms around his middle, pulling him back with Aegon’s help, holding on to him tightly so he will not run off and punch Otto in the face, “Please, don’t give him another reason to lash out.”

“For fuck sake, Aemond, get a grip!” Daeron yells, and you see the sea of emotions in Aemond’s eye as he tries to fight off the anger in him.

“Me?” Aemond chuckles, running a hand over his face as he shakes his head in disbelief, “Me? I endured a night with the person who cut out my eye! I sat there and watched how they insulted someone I care about and couldn’t do anything to prevent it! I waited and took the humiliation on my birthday because I didn’t want to make someone else miserable by opening my mouth! Now you say I need to get a fucking grip? No, Daeron, it’s you, it’s all of you! You want to control my life but I won’t let you win this time.”

“It’s not about winning, Aemond—“

“We’re leaving,” he cuts off his mother’s sentence, grabbing your hand gently in his, threading his fingers through yours before he starts walking toward the door. You follow silently, squeezing his hand in reassurance as you let him guide you outside.

You walk hand in hand in tense silence as you walk towards the parking, finding the doorman running with Aemond’s car keys, handing them to him before he says a quick good morning. Aemond nods and leads you to his car, opening the door for you, and surprising you with a quick kiss on the crown of your head.

You give him a soft smile, sitting in the car and waiting for him to join you. The sunlight shines between the trees and warms your skin — grateful for the lack of roof of the car.

He starts the car, his lips pursed and a deep frown forms on his forehead as the sun shines on his face. He reaches for the dashboard and pulls his sunglasses out, putting them on before he twists the riding wheel, driving the car out of the parking lot to the main path.

You lean your head on the back of the seat watching the clouds move as Aemond speeds up. He shocks you by resting his hand on your thighs, gently caressing the bare skin through the slit of your dress.

You turn your head to look at him, noticing his stiff shoulders. He is battling for peace in his mind, you are sure. Maybe he feels guilty about how he treated you, maybe he just wants out from his family. 

He sighs, his thumb moving up and down the flesh of your thigh, enjoying the warmth you provide him with. You rest your hand on his, caressing the blue veins under his skin with the tip of your nail, skimming your finger over his knuckles gently.

You do not realize how much time has passed, but when you wake up, the Targaryen mansion comes into view, and you find Aemond pushing his sunglasses up on his head as he drives the car through the opening gates, looking stressed and confused from all the things that were said during the past few hours.

“We’re here,” he tells you softly, getting out of the car with ease before he walks and helps you out of the car as well, guiding you inside the mansion by his palm on the small of your back.

“Good morning, sir,” one of the house holders says, and Aemond nods at her, “Would you like to have breakfast here or on the balcony?”

“I’m not hungry, but she might be,” he answers stoically, turning his head to look at you, but his face softens slightly when he notices your disappointment written all over your face.

“I’d love to have breakfast on the balcony, please,” you let go of Aemond’s hand, smiling at the householder as she nods and smiles back, leaving the two of you alone to take your breakfast to the balcony.

“I need some time to think,” Aemond whispers, looking down at his shoes as he rocks on the balls of his feet, “I’m sorry I dragged you here, but I… I need to get my thoughts together, and couldn’t just leave you alone with them. I need a break.”

“It’s okay, I’m around if you need me,” you sigh, walking away from him upstairs towards where the balcony is, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Your day is dull, your mind is even worse. You had your breakfast with a bitterness you had no idea you possessed whilst you thought about Aemond, wondering what he was thinking about — probably the chaos that his family created and left the two of you dealing with the ruins of it later.

You tried to make yourself busy with doing whatever came to your mind; a long walk to the Weirwood tree and back, wandering around the mansion in hopes of finding something interesting, skipping meals, and snacking on fruit. But nothing seemed to make the gaping hole in your chest go away nor did they help with the dark thoughts that came into your head.

Now, sitting on the edge of the bed, you regret taking a long walk; Your feet are bruised and you notice a few painful blisters on the side of your feet, hissing as you apply a healing cream on the skin.

A knock brings you out of your thoughts, and before you can answer, you see Aemond pushing the door open, standing in front of you with tears stinging his eye. He has taken off his clothes from last night, now he is only in an old t-shirt with sweatpants.

“Hey you,” you greet him softly, watching him curiously as he takes a shaky step to the bed, slowly kneeling in front of you, taking the cream from your hands before he squeezes the tube on his palms, warming the cream before grabbing your ankle to gently apply it on the wounded skin.

“How did you hurt yourself?” His voice is barely above whispering as he kisses your shin, closing his eye when he hears your hisses in pain.

“I…I walked barefoot to the stables this morning,” you explain, eyes casted away from him, trying to escape from his intense gaze, “And I took a long walk a few hours ago.”

“You shouldn’t be so careless,” he rests your foot down, grabbing the other one in his warm hands as he speaks, “You need to take better of yourself or you’ll get hurt.”

“You’re doing a fine job in hurting me and taking care of me,” you scoff, rolling your eyes when his eye falls on your face.

“And I’m sorry for that.”

Your head snaps in his direction when you hear the tremble in his voice, lips parting in surprise as you look at his teary eye, his cheek pressed against your leg as he looks at you — his gaze is so intense to the point of melting you in place. 

“I…” he starts, resting his forehead on your knee, “I don’t need a break.”

“Aemond, you need some time—“

“I don’t need a break because I love you,” he looks up at you with the utmost adoration a human can ever possess, “I was a fucking idiot before for pushing you away, for doubting what we have, but I love you so much, my Clementine.”

Your lips quiver, and with a shaky hand, you reach down to cup his face, caressing his cheek as the tears fall on your fingers softly.

“I love you in a way I never thought I would,” he closes his eye, leaning his head into your palm, “I imagine my life without you in it, without your voice, without your smile, w-without you calling me that stupid nickname. Do you know what I saw?”

At this point, you are both crying, and with every word that slips past his lips you lean closer to take a good look at the desperation in his face, the longing, the love.

“I saw nothing, it was all black,” he sniffles, one hand coming to rest on the back of your neck as soon as your forehead touches his, “My life doesn’t exist without you. There is no hope left for me if you are gone. I will perish and turn to ashes if I don’t get to hold you at night. I will burn by the humiliation and misery I created for myself because I believed you would leave me.”

“Oh, my love,” you cry, pulling him up just a little so you can reach his lips easier, pressing a quick kiss, “Are you sure you’re not saying these because you feel defeated?”

“I’m sorry for directing my anger at you, I’m sorry for not voicing my love sooner. I was scared, fucking hell, I am scared because this is… this is not even near half of what I felt for anyone in my life; it’s blinding, it makes me bleed with need for you. All I’m asking is for you to accept my apology and take me back.”

“And if I don’t?” You ask, his lips hovering above yours, and you see him smile sadly, his large hand coming up to rest against your wet cheek.

“Then I will try to cope—“

“I’m not giving up on us,” you cut him off, shaking your head as you wrap your arms around his neck, “We will get through this together. We will talk, we will fight, but I won’t ever let go of you. There’ll always be hope for us.”

“I’m so fucking sorry for saying what I said,” he bites his lip to keep his composure, but his vision is blurry with unshed tears, “I’m not giving up on you, I promise.”

“I won’t either because I love you.”

“I love you,” he breathes against your lips, sealing his words with a deep quick kiss, “I love you, I love you—“

You press your lips to his, tasting his salty tears as they mix with yours, moving in sync while you explore each other's mouth after the chaos that pulled you apart.

“We’re okay,” you whisper, wishing to know if you will be able to hold and touch him like before, “We’ll be okay.”

“We are okay,” he nods frantically, “I love you, my gorgeous girl. We’ll be okay. I won’t leave you.”

“Neither will I,” you pull him into your arms, pressing his face to your neck as you sob, holding him close, breathing in his calming scent, “I won’t leave you, I will never put you through the pain you endured again.”

“I won’t do that either,” he presses a kiss to your neck, brushing his nose against your earlobe, “You’re my everything, I love you.”

[adventures-with-ana]

— Stay Quiet —

Henry Cavill (RPF) x OFC // 614 (Written in 1st person, no character description given) 18+ only, minors dni; cock warming, one use of ‘daddy’, PWP

Cock warming a man while he plays video games was either the worst idea, or the best.

Author’s Note: Under the cut because we jump right into it. Inspired by this tumblr post.

A pathetic moan escaped my lips as Henry thrust his hips up into me. I should have known better than to suggest cockwarming him while he played his games, but the idea was just too appealing to pass up. He could sit there for hours and become so absorbed in his game that the rest of the world ceased to exist. (Just ask Zack Snyder.) So I thought I would remove the possibility that he could forget about me, even for a moment.

At first it was peaceful and intimate. He'd pulled me in to straddle his hips, teasing the head of his cock through my wet folds, teasing me about how I'd fingered myself first in preparation before slipping himself into my tight heat. Pulling my hips down until my ass met his thighs and his thick cock almost pierced my cervix. I whimpered at the feeling of fullness before he kissed my temple and praised me.

"Such a good girl," he husked, his tone making me quiver around him. He grabbed his headset and my mouth dropped open in shock. He wasn't going to chat with people?! But oh, yes he was. He put the set over his head and gave me a cheeky wink. "Be a good girl and stay quiet for daddy," he whispered to me, kissing my temple again and greeting his gamer buddies to let me know that my quiet time started immediately.

Of course silence was difficult, as he kept reminding me. If he got frustrated or agitated in some way his hips would buck up into me and each time I had to find someway to contain my noises. Biting down on my lower lip, my hand, even his shoulder a time or two; but he'd caught me off guard this last time. I knew that out of the handful of friends he was currently chatting with, each and every one of them heard me.

Though in turn, I could also hear them and the newest great debate was 'what was that noise?'

"Was that the game?"

"No, that was someone's mic."

"Who's fucking mic was it?"

"I don't think anyone's fucking Mike."

"Oh shut up." That voice sounded far to offended to be anyone other than Mike himself. Poor guy.

"Well, are you?"

"No... But someone's clearly fucking someone."

"As if any of you losers have girlfriends. Someone's probably watching porn, like a pervert."

I buried my face in Henry's neck out of embarrassment and a little shame, but I still felt Henry laugh. His body jostling and forcing me to bite back another moan as his cock moved inside me.

"I'm surprised you guys even know what a woman moaning sounds like," Henry teased. The uproar was immediate and I couldn't tell one voice from another, and Henry just laughed. Laughing even harder as one guy asked him how he would know and I did not like the look in his eye after that. "I don't know," he replied, feigning ignorance. "I'm pretty sure it sounds something like this..." With that he thrust up into me again, harder than before and there was physically no way I could contain another moan.

In revenge I ran my fingers through his hair, gripping two good fistfuls of it and pulling. His answering moan was even better than my own and his friends went wild again. "Now it's fair," I told Henry as he glared at me. "You make me moan, I make you moan, and now your friends are listening to porn."

"We gotta get through this," He said, looking over my shoulder to his computer screen. "I've got a brat to punish when we're done."

[sukirichi]

— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz 

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist ! 

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,” you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

[arabellavernierwrites]

they’re your jeans / steve harrington

summary: one day reader notices her best friend steve’s ass looks especially nice, reader finds out he has been stealing her jeans. 

pairing: (fem)platonic!reader x best friend!steve (can also be read as romantic) 

warnings: talk of pant size and fit 

word count: 1,182

author’s note: hey everyone, this is my first time writing for steve, and i am planning on writing for more stranger things ! i take requests for all characters except for any of the younger kids (like erica obviously) or any of the parents. this has been edited a few times, but there might still be a mistake of two, feel free to tell me ! if you want me to write for any gn characters, please request that because i will. hope you guys like this one !

   it was the end of the work day and you and your best friend steve were getting ready to close down shop at family video. the shelves of movies were stacked high around you as you knelt on the ground, putting the last few tapes away, preparing to go home. 

   steve was turning off the computer that logged the sales, the fluorescent lighting that kept the store bright, and all of the glimmering signs that displayed the newest feature films. 

   “all i’m saying is i think that people shit on weird science too much. is it the best movie anyone has ever seen? obviously not. but, it’s funny and easy to watch. who goes into a comedy called weird science expecting it to be critically acclaimed, anyways? if anything, that’s on the people for having set their expectations too high,” steve said, finishing his small list of tasks. 

   “you should write that down and send it to the academy. they might let you on their board when award season rolls around,” you teased, standing up and dusting your hands off on your jeans. 

   “then i could really rub it in keith’s face for trying to refuse to hire me before,” he spoke ironically, clocking out. 

“robin would never forgive you if you were a member of the academy and she wasn’t. especially since she got you this job,” you both laughed simultaneously, imagining the things she would say and do if that were to be true. 

“you got the keys?” steve asked, vest in hand, ready to head out. 

you looked up from your time card at him. he was standing in front of the double doors, flipping the sign over to say closed. his back was facing your direction and you couldn't help but look down at his ass. something about it looked different today. it was bigger and more shapely than you had noticed before in his typically un-fitted pants. 

“steve, not to be weird, but your ass looks fantastic in those jeans,” you stated, nodding your head and looking his legs up and down. 

“thanks, they’re yours,” he smirked, quickly making an exit from the store. 

you stopped, eyes unmoving from the spot that steve had just stood. your jeans?

steve was wearing your jeans? you thought of where he could have found them, when he could have taken them, why he decided to try them on. 

and how did they fit his softly muscular build? 

you let out a quiet mix of a chuckle and a scoff, slightly unbelieving, and decided to forget it for the evening. you grabbed your bag and left, locking the door behind you. 

when you got home, you went straight to your room. 

you kneeled in front of your dresser, sliding one of the bottom drawers out. sure enough, there was an empty space where the jeans would typically reside. 

he really took your pants. and not only did he take your pants, he wore them all day without you noticing. how long had they been missing? was he wearing them without you around? 

you flopped down on your bed, thinking about steve in your jeans. you pictured him strolling the aisles of the supermarket, struggling to wiggle his fingers into the practically non-existent pockets of women’s jeans, pulling out his folded up list, scouring the products lined up in front of him. 

or standing in front of his mirror, blasting foreigner, shimmying into the tightly fitting fabric, doing one big jump to pull them up all the way. you could see him posing, trying on a myriad of shirts with them with the intention of building different outfits. 

if dustin knew he was wearing women’s jeans, he would never hear the end of it. 

you smiled and shook your head. 

getting up from your spot on the floor, you decided to dial the man of the hour, “hey, steve. are you doing anything fun this evening?” 

“does being at your front door in a couple of minutes count?” he questioned, his tone light. 

“hanging out with me is the most fun you could possibly have, steve harrington,” you giggled into the phone. 

“which is exactly why i’ll be there. i’ll see you in a few,” he announced. 

“yes sir,” you joked, hanging up the phone. 

before you knew it, steve was ringing the doorbell. the bells chimed throughout the house as you jogged down the stairs, not wanting to leave him waiting for long. 

opening the door, the first thing you looked to were his pants. your pants. 

“eyes up here, pretty lady,” steve teased, ruffling your hair as he walked past you through the front door. you closed it behind him, watching as he took his shoes off and led himself up to your room. 

“are you coming or what?” he called, not bothering to turn around to look at you as he climbed the stairs. 

“you’re a freak, you know that right?” you put question to, amusement swirling in your voice. you followed him, catching up and sliding your fingers into one of his belt loops. 

“if you only knew the half of it,” he stated. 

“trust me, i do,” you pulled on the belt loop, half-twirling him to face you, “are you gonna tell me how and why you decided to take these?”

he took both of your hands in his, stepping back so you could get the full view, “on saturday, you were taking a shower before getting ready to go to that party, right? you left a pair of jeans on your bed and it got me curious, so i looked in your drawer and grabbed one of your baggier pairs. i slid it under my jacket so i could take them home.” 

“and it never crossed your mind to just ask if you could try them on? you know i would have let you,” you inquired, entertained by his thought process. 

“it did cross my mind, but i like stealing from you more,” he reached down, pinching both of your sides, causing you to squeal and pull away from him. 

“jerk!” you taunted as he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. 

“i’m a jerk?” he scoffed, a grin spreading across his face. he spun you into your room, tossing you onto your bed. 

his hands reached back down to your sides, tickling you while you squirmed around. 

“a jerk that steals my clothing!” you choked out between gasps. you couldn’t help but match the smile he had on his face.

he stopped, holding you in your place, “but you still love me.”

“of course i do, it’s charity work really. you need me,” you grabbed his arms, pulling him to lay next to you. 

steve dramatically clutches your shoulders and pulls you against him, “what would i do without you?” 

“have to find someone else’s jeans to steal, apparently,” you replied, equally as dramatic. 

“well, i fit in robin’s too, so, whew,” he pretends to wipe sweat from his forehead. 

you didn’t even want to know, “you’re such a weirdo.”

“a weirdo who loves you,” steve pulls you back in tight, giving one more quick pinch to your waist.

[womensblood]

Slashers react to their S/O getting so fucking mad you accidentally break the fan and it just straight up knocks you in the head and you pass out

(Also a lot of swearing. Like… a lot. And unhealthy relationships cause these are serial killers lmao)

(Mentioned that reader is trans)

Poly!Tiffany Valentine + Chucky

Tiffany is horrified.

One second, she’s cooking in the kitchen, ignoring the sound of you and Charles having a screaming match when all of a sudden she hears something shatter, a very brief silence then a loud crack and CRASH!

There’s silence again, only for a second before she hears Charles fucking losing his mind.

She knows that’s bad, so she rushes into the living room to yell at the both of you, and then she sees you face down on the ground with a fan on top of you and she literally screams in horror.

Chucky is shitting his pants, dude.

He’s losing it.

He’s holding his stomach and fucking cackling until he falls over on the couch while you’re on the ground, most likely knocked out.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

But Chucky just does not give a shit. He can’t take it, man. He can’t even answer so she goes to your aide.

You’re awoken to the sound of Chuky’s laughter and Tiffany shaking you up. At first, you’re confused, but you’re happy to see your girlfriend, and then you realize who’s laughing and you remember everything.

“Chucky, you fucking cocksuckin’ asshole! Piece of shit! Motherfucker, I’m gonna kill you!”

“I’m gonna kick your doll ass, motherfucker! I’ll fuck you up!”

“Yeah, I’d like to see you try bitch!” And then continues laughing.

Tiffany literally has to physically hold you back from beating that little shit up.

Later though, Tiffany gets on his ass because you actually got seriously hurt.

“Uhh, how’s that my problem?” She pushes him off the counter and he falls to his death.

Jk.

But, Chucky’s an asshole. So, he’s not gonna apologize. At first.

It’s when you start to genuinely pull away from him and barely ever acknowledge his existence that he gets annoyed because he knows he fucked up, and that means he has to apologize.

Even Tiff never holds grudges this long.

So, he relents, and he fucking hates having to apologize for something he considers so fucking stupid.

But he did apologize to you, just to make Tiff feel better, and so you’d stop being mad at him because he hates dealing with both of your ‘shit’.

You punch him in the shoulder and kiss his cheek, and tell him he’s an asshole. And he’s good with that.

Billy Loomis

He started to interrupt your studies, which was annoying, and kept doing so, even after you were telling him to fuck off.

Billy starts to get more intense with his fuckery, leaning over you while you work, talking about wanting to fuck you, but you’re not really in the mood, and you know he’s only trying to annoy you—and boy was it working.

“Dude, I’ve got fucking finals in 2 days. Fuck off. I need to study.”

“Studying is for losers tho.”

You tell him in every possible way to fuck off, but he just wouldn’t budge.

“You keep botherin’ me than… you’re transphobic.”

“Guess I’m transphobic now.”

“Bitch, I’ll fuck you up.”

You hate when he does that. Usually it annoys him and he relents and gets off your back, but damn he really wants to get a reaction out of you.

Then he said something that was just the last straw.

“Come on… throw me a bone. You’re overreacting.”

“Alright, that’s it! Get the fuck out, asshole!” You throw your book, trying to aim for his head, but instead you hit right above the light switch, and the book breaks into the wall, and your fan drops right on your head and knocks you unconscious.

At first, he fucking laughs. And then he sees you’re not moving and he’s like, “oh fuck”

He genuinely freaks the fuck out man, cause he feels bad. Just a little.

He moves the fans off of you first, and tries to wake you up by slapping your face, shaking you, but you just groaned and whimpered and he freaked out even more.

He actually was going to call 9-1-1 and turned around to grab his phone and started to dial it.

And then he gets hit hard in the back of his head and it hurts like a bitch.

“What the f—”

And there you are, grinning triumphantly and then flip him off before passing out again.

You woke up in the hospital with a mild concussion and an annoyed, but slightly worried boyfriend. “Oh, hey asshole.”

“Oh, fuck you, [Y/N].”

Kano (Mortal Kombat) [I KNOW HE’S NOT A SLASHER BUT HEY HE IS H O T]

An argument is started between the 2 of you. It always starts with an argument. And it’s over something so fucking stupid. But also valid.

You 2 are sitting on the couch together while he’s drinking and he has his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you browse through the T.V channels.

“Why don’t you give us a kiss, hmm?”

You grin at him and cock your head. “Aw… why don’t you—”

Then he burps in your fucking face and it reeks like hell—and you think you feel a burn?

He laughs so hard as you pull away and wipe your face on the couch cushions, and your genuinely terrified you have worms or some shit.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOUUU?!”

That only makes him laugh harder, because he never takes anything seriously, and that only makes you angrier.

So, you punch him right in the shoulder and he mockingly coos at you.

“Awww… did I make the baby cry?”

“You cocksucker! You know what? Fuck you! I’m gonna get a drink.”

“Awww, don’t be like that, love! Yer gettin’ emotional.”

With one last fuck you, you head into the kitchen and you were going to get yourself a beer, but being reminded of his nasty ass breath makes you put it down and wash your face.

“What a fucking asshole.” You hiss, and clean your face off with a towel.

He doesn’t take many things seriously, so why are you fucking surprised?

You scream and throw the beer bottle at the wall, just as your loving boyfriend strolls in.

“Aw, Jesus. You that upset that you’re ruining perfectly good—”

The wall and ceiling crack and then the fan falls and knocks you on the ground and he doesn’t even try to not laugh.

He does realize you’re knocked out too, which only makes him laugh harder.

But, he does care about you, believe it or not.

And after a. Few seconds, he removes the fan and helps you up, carrying you to your bedroom and sighs as he elevated your head and patches you up. He’s not worried, he knows you’re going to be okay. It wasn’t that bad.

You wake up to him cleaning your forehead wound and you glare at him.

“Still mad then?”

“Yes. Asshole. That fucking stank.”

He snorts, rolling his good eye. “Alright, ya prissy fuck. I’m sorry. Better?”

Even though his voice drips with sarcasm and mock sympathy, you know he’s being sincere. You can see it in the way he looks at you. He’s never been good at being genuine. Ever. So, you sigh and gently slap the side of his face a couple of times.

“That’ll do.”

Jennifer Check & Anita “Needy” Lesniki

It’s you and Needy home for now, Jennifer’s out… eating. Needy came home early, since she’s not as insatiable as your shared girlfriend.

You had been working out new traps for your girls to try out, and honestly, you’re pretty proud. The only reason you’re helping your girls is because you know these fucks deserve it.

They go after the worst of the worst. Pedophiles. Rapists. Child abusers. Scumbags.

But now, you’re taking a long awaited break and while you’re playing a video game, you hear a door open, and it’s your lovely girlfriend Anita.

“Hey, babe. Have fun?”

“Yep.”

Her mouth and shirt is covered in blood, but she’s always thorough when cleaning up the blood. She’s back in an instant, and she gives you a kiss, blood-free.

“What is this?”

“Mortal Kombat. Murder game.”

“Fun.”

She sees your starting to get tense, and that you’re grunting and yelling at the screen, so she goes into the kitchen to get you some muscle relaxers so you don’t blow a fuse.

Even from the kitchen, she can hear you scream, and all the expletives you yell at the screen.

She grabs some sprite and takes 4 Methocarbamol, then adds 2 extra when she hears you scream, “FUUUUUUUUUCK!”

She makes it back just in time to watch you throw the remote controller and then the fan crash down on you.

Unlike Jennifer, Needy doesn’t have a problem showing empathy, and screams when it falls on you. Now she’s definitely glad she brought those muscle relaxers, cause she knows that hurt.

Demon strength™︎

She fucking throws the fan across the room.

She makes sure you’re breathing first, check if you have any serious injuries. Thankfully, you don’t, and she picks you up and makes you comfortable and is trying not to freak out any more than she is.

Needy gets a text back from Jennifer,

She texts Jennifer next, saying that you got mad and broke something and the fan fell on you, then she went back to helping you. She cleans the nasty scar on your cheek and puts a bandaid on it for safe keeping. When you wake up, she immediately gives you the pills because damn you have a killer fucking headache.

“You need to go to anger management.”

“Pfft. No…”

“…..”

“Okay, yeah…”

lol

Needy just rolls her eyes and leaves her on read.

they okay tho?

Your muscle relaxers kick in and you pass out. Needy kisses your forehead, as soon as you’re asleep.

[frogtanii]

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[4dtk]

cute lil drabble with tsukiko, gojo’s and your child. switches between ‘gojo’ and ‘satoru’. lore here ♡

“baby, daddy has to go to work!” gojo laughs when tsukiko, your daughter, latches onto his leg like a stubborn girl. all the while, she’s whining into his pants, and you make a mental note to clean her face right after because you know your husband needs reminders to wash his clothes (and also because you just hung the laundry last night, he couldn’t have recently washed it).

“no! tsukiko don’t want that! i want dada to stay!” satoru shoots you a look between ‘save me’ and ‘give me a resignation form right now’, making you giggle just a little while you watch your daughter try to give him the best pleading face she could muster.

it almost works. almost.

the sigh satoru lets out is monumental, crouching down after untangling her arms from his limb. gently, his fingers brush over the girl’s white hair that was almost identical to his, save for the way it fell over her shoulders — a little curly to match yours, and messy, too, from how much she moves during slumber.

“tsuki, hon, dada needs to go off to work. remember how i said i’m gonna inspire the next generation of sorcerers, yes?” it’s hard to hold in a laugh as tsukiko’s face contorts into one of confusion, not accepting her father’s reason even if she didn’t understand a word.

“if we make a promise, will that be better? hm?”

satoru loved promises, always proposing how he’d promise to bring you to a new dessert place that’s opened up — “i’ll bring you after my mission, ’kay?”. satoru promised how the two of you will eventually find happiness, as with other sorcerers — “i know it’s tiring, my love, it is. but it is so worth it, in the end, seeing smiles on people’s faces when you exorcise the littlest of curses.”

the longest lasting promise he’s made, though, still exists right now in the house he bought, in the ring you chastised him over because it was too expensive, in the bundle of joy that’s currently hugging him tightly. “i’ll marry you. one day, baby. i’ll get us a big house, and a pretty ring, anything. i just want you for the rest of my life.”

you’re so in your thoughts that you don’t recognise how your husband manages to successfully pry tsukiko away from him, giving her a big grin and solidifying his promise one more time by linking pinkies.

“c’mon now, up you go.” satoru huffs out as he carries the girl into his arms, bombarding her face with endless kisses accompanied by dramatic “muah’s!”. it reminds you of how he did, and still do, to you. “be good for mommy, alright?”

“and remember our promise! --- ----- -- ---.” gojo whispers the last part so that you can’t hear a thing, only offering a shrug and a sly smile when you try to eavesdrop. the last thing you remember is your lover’s lips upon yours and a confession, a smile into the kiss and a firm grab to your ass. with a giggle you push him away, bidding him goodbye as tsukiko clings to your side.

bonus:

“so what promise did you make, dear husband?” you lean into his side when you see tsukiko enjoy her mochi dessert, sighing in content when you feel his peck on your temple.

“don’t you think she said ‘i love you’ a lot to you today?” you scoff jokingly, nudging his side.

“so that was your doing? now she’s gonna say the words every time she wants something, satoru.” gojo turns to you, holding your shoulders tenderly, as he speaks, you’re reminded of his immense power and strength, yet all he does is treat you like porcelain.

his hands travel from shoulder to wrist, his hand is so comforting. “i told her to say it only when she means it. when she is fully happy with what she has. i guess she figured out she couldn’t go a day without mommy, either.”

at that, you smile, widening when he kisses your hands.

“will the flowers come soon, dada? i want to see mommy happy with allllll the love i have for her!”

satoru relishes in your puzzled expression, answering tsukiko with his eyes never leaving yours, “i won’t say, baby.”

the next morning, you awaken to a large bouquet of flowers at the door with a short letter: ‘for every time tsukiko’s told you she’s loved you, and for every time i did, too.’

your eyes doesn’t even read the sign off (well, you know it’s gojo by the handwriting) before you’re the next victim of a kiss attack from gojo. there, you stood in his arms, falling so so deep in love again that you wouldn’t even need any type of love potion. falling so fast that you’d manipulate time in whichever way you can to feel the thrill again.

“i love you.” thrill. that was what it was with satoru at first, but now you know he can love slowly, too. you have all of your life to hear those three words again and again, and just like he said — you want him for the rest of your life, too.