#and there's a lot of wiggle room because she's not in the story as much

[just-trying-my-best-everyday]

I cannot explain it but fic writers get Lan Fan so wrong all the time and I can't even blame them because a) I have gotten her wrong a bunch of times too, and b) she's insanely hard to characterize.

Does anyone have any thoughts/fic recs where her character is down cold?

[deadghosy]

HAZBIN HOTEL GANG WITH CHIBI! READER

PLATONIC HAZBIN HOTEL X READER

You are like thumb size-

Like you are an absolute cutie pootie! Even Alastor agrees, in private of course. You are like a mysterious creature that appeared in the hotel one day and said.

“This ma home now losers!”

Charlie was hypnotized by your cuteness, even vaggie oddly as she tickles you under your chin as you giggle with a squeak.

Husk lets you sit by the bar as you eat these small pieces of chips he got for you so you can have something to eat while he watches over you and cleans glasses.

Angel lets you in his chest fluff like a pocket as you snicker with a gremlin ass smile. You always bite him for the fun of it which makes him put you in air jail.

When Lucifer met you, you better believed he came and kidnapped you out the hotel every second he got.

LUCFIER

He fell in love with you the minute he had his eyes on you from charlie’s shoulder. He held you so carefully like a baby as he didn’t want you to be scared of him as you are so small and he is bigger than you.

Like I said, he definitely “kidnaps” you from the hotel so he can make you a small house. Like a doll house with small duck toys your size but he probably just makes a normal size duck car so you can drive around his palace or the hotel.

“Look at their tiny car sweetie!” He says showing Charlie a video of you driving your car with small black shades.

He definitely cries at your cuteness as he curls up in a ball as you eat peacefully in front of him as he made you your favorite meal.

He would have you in his pocket but he definitely makes small outfits for you so you can be a mini him. He would also definitely have a picture of you in his wallet.

“Oh this picture? It’s my sweet baby!” He says with a pride smile as he shows it off

CHARLIE

Just like her father she cries at your cuteness as you are just the sweetest thing ever she ever had around the hotel as you just chill in her room with razzle and dazzle.

You ride razzle and dazzle on their back as you wanted to see Charlie who is doing trust exercises. You join kinda as Charlie makes you sit on her shoulder as you wiggle your cute little bobble around.

Charlie makes sure you are groomed, feed, and socialize around the peers of the hotel. She’s glad VAGGIE likes you also which makes her even happier

Charlie kinda brings you around a lot as she doesn’t trust you alone much in the hotel as there’s a lot things that can kill you in the hotel.

“Sweetie, it’s time for bath time!” Charlie says she gets a toy bathtub with bubbles and water for you as you squeak happily.

And when you sleep with Charlie and vaggie, Charlie literally wakes up at night with red eyes concerned if you are alive or not because she is scared she might have rolled over on you.

VAGGIE

“Okay remember the rules, no leaving this room no matter what. Don’t go into the big scary man’s room. And last rule, don’t ever eat sweets. You are banned from last time.” Vaggie says before scratching you under your chin as she leaves the room. You pout with a soft squeak.

Vaggie is very overprotective of you because of your sweet and small creature frame as it’s unbelievably cute. She literally asked Lucifer once and carmilla to make you a small weapon so you can protect yourself if she can’t

You left the room one time because you were bored and missed vaggie with her girlfriend as you wanted company. You wanted to socialize as you didn’t think it was bad to talk to the other residents in the hotel. VAGGIE found out and grounded you as if you were a child!

She doesn’t want a heart attack late at night so she would consider to have you a tiny bed on the night stand beside Charlie and her bed. She doesn’t have time to worry about you getting squashed but she doesn’t want you to die as you brought happiness to the hotel.

“Good night cutie….”

ALASTOR

You use to shake at the grin Alastor had. Vaggie told you stories about Alastor as you squeak with tears in your eyes. And oddly Alastor turned away gripping his cold heart as he couldn’t stand you crying.

He turned around and picked you up softly in his hand as you sniffle. You noticed he wasn’t hurting you so you squeak rubbing your chubby cheek on your thumb.

“Please smile little one, you aren’t dressed without one!”

And at the point, Alastor know to protect you. He would bring you around with him when Charlie didn’t have time to watch you. Which he gladly did for her as he would bring you around pentagram city and even bring you to meet Rosie who absolutely adores you too.

He even has his demon minions play with you as you squeak chasing them with your stubby legs. The shadows love you too! Even Alastor shadows who would pick play with you as you squeak happily feeling the shadow by you.

“Play nice..don’t wanna get scolded by the mean one again.” He says smiling at you chasing his shadows in the living room. He is definitely talking about VAGGIE who is surely scared for you to be around Alastor.

ANGEL DUST

“OW DONT BITE MY FLUFF HON!” Angel yells digging in his chest fluff to take you out as you mistook it for cotton candy as you nom on his fluff with a derpy face. You got banned from his chest fluff for a month before you would behave yourself and not eat his chest fluff thinking it’s cotton candy.

Angel loves for you to wear pink like him as he thinks it would be cute. He would definitely act like a rich “auntie” to you as he would make you wear pink shades with him and he would ask Lucifer to make you a pink hot car.

But he definitely has those toy car remote controllers to make it seem you are actually driving but aren’t as you squeak feeling like a hot girl/boy/person

“VROOM VROOOM!” Angel says making car noises as you squeak happily at this moment as Charlie records this happily.

You sleep on Angel’s chest fluff or ride fat nuggets like a steady horses as you squeak while fat nuggets oink. Angel likes to record you acting like a cow boy as it’s just adorable moment

“You’re the best thing a spider could have cutie pie.”

HUSK

This grumpy cat actually is less grumpy with you. He views as you as a little kid. He might not know what you are it he ain’t serving you beer at all. Your body might not handle it at all.

“Sorry kid, but that’s for adults.” He says pushing your squishy and chubby body away from the beer bottle he held. You opted with a mean squeak and a “hey!” As he smirk at your mad face which is terrible cute with puffed out cheeks. But you just drink water what he gives you as he cleans glasses watching you softly as his eyes dilate before he grumbles looking away.

You and husk are seen chilling at the bar every night even if it’s after your suppose “bed time” which was annoying to you but Charlie sen how cranky you were before you even had a such called “bed time”

“Aren’t you suppose to be in bed brat?” “……no….” “I’m telling Charlie.” “NOOO!” *mad squeaks*

Husk has a habit of poking your chubby cheeks as you eat as it annoys you. Husk just smirks as you try to bite his finger which obviously fails as you are quite slow since you are eating. But if you aren’t eating, then husk better pray for his fingers as husk accidentally let his guard down and you bit the shit out of his pointer finger which make him scream with a groan holding his pointer finger as you huff.

“Fine kid…I’m sorry for annoying you. But you must admit you are annoying to me sometimes even if you don’t see it.” He says softly as he pokes your sleeping figure by his bar.

SIR PENTIOUS

“Ah I see! You like to spend time with me!” He says happily having you in his hands as the egg boiz watch you with star in their eyes at your small frame. You are adorable and such a weird little thing as the egg boiz made a rule to protect from a lot of things.

You nap with the egg boiz and the snake demon as Pentious would have you warm if you say you are cold. He also makes small cookies, well if he can even as he loves to bake for you.

Vaggie tells him how you are banned from sweeties but he secretly sneaks you some if you pout at him with your soft cute little squeak and “please.” HE CANT REIST IT!

He definitely brags about how he could’ve been an overlord but saw the light to redeem himself as he sees potential in you and himself. Well he does t even know if you are a sinner or not. But he want to know how to redeem with you beside him.

He would love watching movies with you as you are in the popcorn bucket but he always look to make sure you aren’t the next popcorn he grabs or he would throw up in disgust from himself and for you health

“You are so adorable it hurts me to see you cry…” he says patting your head as you pout with teary eyes after you accidentally hit it against a wall

[babyleostuff]

their s/o having a nightmare | hip hop unit

𐙚 seungcheol

cheol is a heavy sleeper, an earthquake could be happening and he’d sleep through it, BUT when it comes to you, it’s like he has a sixth sense that notices any shifts in your mood, even if he’s asleep. and knowing him, cheol would be worried sick seeing you so distraught, as your eyes looked frantically around the room, while you tried to reach for him in a frenzy.

something about you being scared and frightened in your sleep, in your most vulnerable state, made his heart ache so badly. his panicked state matching yours wouldn’t help a lot in calming you down, but the weight of his arms around your waist and his lips repeatedly pecking your forehead would be a whole another story. 

“s okay, you’re okay baby,” your boyfriend whispered, kissing the top of your head, as he tightened his arms that were wrapped around your waist. you thought you were quiet enough not to wake him, but it seemed that muffling your sobs with the sleeve of his hoodie you were wearing, letting the tears run slowly down your cheeks wasn’t enough to deceive cheol’s protectiveness, even in his sleep. 

“sorry for waking you up,” you murmured, your voice muffled by your hiccups and his shirt, as he cradled your head to his chest. he hushed you immediately, pecking your forehead repeatedly. “do you want to talk about it? need me to get you some water? should i get you an extra blanket? want me to turn on the lights?” he asked, his breath tickling your cheek, as he swayed you back and forth. kkuma, almost as if she could sense something was wrong, yawned and stretched, padding over to where you were sitting in her dad’s arms. 

at some point you had to start calming him down. his worried pout was endearing, but you didn’t want to keep cheol up all night, and you knew there was no way he’d go back to sleep in this state, especially because you were still shaken up by your bad dream.  

“i just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said, running his hand over your back. “just hold me like this, please?” there was no safer place for you than seungcheol’s arms, and not even a nightmare could change that.     

𐙚 wonwoo

wonwoo would wake up while you’d try to sneak out of the bed (he’s not as cuddly in his sleep as cheol or gyu are, but he always has an arm draped over your waist or tummy, so of course he’d immediately notice if you’d try to wiggle your way out of his grip). usually he’d just go back to sleep, thinking you were going to the bathroom or to get a glass of water, but you’d be shaking too much for it to be normal. wonwoo would reach for you, pulling you back to his chest, cradling the back of your head with his hand.

i believe wonwoo would be even more worried than cheol, he’d never show it as much as him, but his heart would break as he’d hold your shaking body in his arms. (i don’t know if you’ve seen that tik tok where he checks up on seungkwan after he hit him on accident or something, AND OMG THE BOBA EYES AND WORRY ON HIS FACE EIUFHEUIRFHE).  

“here, put your hand over my heart,” wonwoo gently grabbed your shaking hand, and placed it on his chest, right over his heart. “you see, that was just a bad dream, honey,” he whispered, his voice deep and soothing, still laced with sleep. “everything’s okay.”   

you nodded, resting your head in the crook of wonwoo’s neck, as you tried to match your erratic breathing with his heartbeat, while he kept petting the back of your head with one hand, and rubbing soothing circles into your hip with the other. surrounded by his arms and familiar warmth, you snuggled further into his embrace, inhaling his comforting scent that always felt like home. 

“what if i read a bit to you?” wonwoo pressed a kiss to your temple, smoothing out your bed-hair. 

“no, won, you have work tomorrow morning,” you whispered, your face still hidden in his neck. “you should go to sleep.” 

without saying anything, wonwoo placed you between his legs, as he fixed the pillows behind him, so he could rest comfortably against the headboard, and grabbed the book he was currently reading from the nightstand. “do you need an extra blanket? or maybe you want me to make you some tea?” 

you smiled, grabbing his hand that was resting against your tummy, and run your thumb over his knuckles - the same ones that were ready to fight with whatever made you so scared in your dream. “no, wonwoo, everything is perfect,” you whispered. “thank you.”

“of course,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

𐙚 mingyu  

gyu can’t physically sleep without you, you’re wrapped securely in his arms through the whole night, whether you like it or not, so he’d immediately know that something was wrong. at first, he’d be a bit confused, sleep still clouding his mind, why he couldn’t feel your body weight on his, and he’d try to reach for you pouting angrily, because how dare you to move away from him.

when he’d find you shaking and struggling to catch your breath, mingyu would be up and alert in an instant, ready to fight whoever and whatever made you so distressed. and mingyu would try to act as composed as he could, even though he’d be a worried mess on the inside. 

“baby,” you heard your boyfriend whine behind you, probably from the lack of your warmth next to him. “where ‘r you,” he sighed, lifting his head up, just to drop it onto his pillow a second later. “come back.” 

you exhaled slowly, trying to calm your breathing, because you knew mingyu - no matter how tired he was, he’d immediately notice that something was wrong. he just came back home from tour and needed a full night of sleep, you couldn’t make him worry. “i’m right here, love. go back to sleep,” you tried your best to sound as normal as you could, and hoped mingyu would be too tired to notice how your voice shook. 

“no,” he murmured, his voice muffled by his pillow. “come back here,” he reached out and made grabby hands at you with his eyes still closed. if you weren’t so shaken up because of your dream, you’d take a photo of him (which would probably become your new wallpaper), and smother his puffy cheeks in kisses. “wait a second,” he said, finally opening his eyes, sensing that something was wrong, when you didn’t snuggle back against him. 

a couple of minutes later you were all wrapped up in at least three blankets (to protect you from the monsters, mingyu’s words) and your boyfriend’s arms that securely held you against his chest. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” he mumbled, bumping his nose against yours. “you’re safe now, my baby.” 

𐙚 vernon 

when he sleeps, he sleeps like a log (vernon needs his beauty sleep), so you’d be a bit hesitant to wake him up. you knew he rarely got a full eight hours of sleep, so you didn’t want to disturb him just because of your nightmare, but at the same time you needed some comfort. you’d cuddle up to him, throwing one of your arms over his tummy, which would wake him up a bit, alarmed by the weight on his body (it wasn’t often that you cuddled while sleeping, so his sleep clouded mind noticed something was wrong).

thanks to him being so relaxed and composed, vernon would be excellent at calming you down, plus he always gets a bit clingier when seeing you so upset, so you’d fall asleep again in no time.

“ratatouille is so much better than cars, though,” vernon whispered, his lips tickling your temple, as he placed occasional pecks there. “i could watch that movie over and over again and never get bored of it.”

you giggled quietly as you listened to your boyfriend rant about something he definitely shouldn’t be talking about in the middle of the night on a random wednesday. it was all of you fault, and although vernon was quick to shut your apologies down, you still fell bad for waking him up when you knew he needed to sleep. plus, you were a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.

“nightmares suck, and there is no shame in feeling scared. i’m happy you woke me up,” he said, holding your head in his hands, so you wouldn’t escape his gaze. 

vernon knew exactly how to calm you down, he noticed early in your relationship how you became putty in his arms whenever he talked about movies. it wasn’t your fault he looked so adorable ranting about something he loved os much. rubbing your cheeks to get the dried tears off of them, you snuggled further into your boyfriend’s side, waiting for what unpopular opinion he’d state next.

“are you sure you’re okay, babe? you don’t need me to grab a glass of water for you or anything?” 

“i’m okay, seriously. just… just keep talking.” 

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @f4iryjjosh @isabellah29 @hafsah-ali @mrswonwooo @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @chillseo @bangantokchy @hrts4hanniehae @haecien

[enwoso]

SUNSHINE — alessia russo x child!reader

*same universe as grumpy. i’ve had a lot of requests asking for more of grumpy so here’s another little one!”

navigation

alessia’s day started in a way she was not expecting or wanting and a lot earlier than she would have liked.

"mummy, mummy, wake up!" you shouted jumping on top of the blonde, as alessia lay still asleep. groaning at the sudden weight falling on top of her, rubbing her eyes before opening them to see you sat beaming with a big smile on your face.

"what are you doing up so early, lovie?" she asked, the room still being dark was a clear indication it was early as she rolled over to check the time on her phone. 6:44am was the time it displayed. "it's game day!" you cheered.

since arriving at camp, you had been really excited for the game against sweden. alessia was unsure of why you were but nevertheless she didn't want to dampen your enthusiasm, so she let you be excited. she much rather deal with you being overly excited then sit grumpy all day like a moody teenager.

"lovie, it's still early. why don't you go back to sleep for a few then we can go get breakfast when everyone else wakes up." alessia suggested not really asking more hoping that you would as the last thing she wanted was to be up all day.

your smile dipped a little, "why? me not tired anymore" you spoke quietly playing with the label on your blankie.

"c'mere" your mummy cooed, pulling you into her embrace and under her covers as you snuggled into her as she began to draw tiny little circles on your back. knowing that it wouldn't be long until hopefully you were back asleep.

after wiggling around a few times, you finally settled as alessia relaxed back into the sheets of her bed hearing your breathing begin to get heavier as you fell back asleep. alessia sighing as she knew this was going to be a long day.

after a long morning of you being overly excited and a small tantrum because you had decided to get yourself ready, an england shirt and shorts with your crocs, now alessia wouldn't of minded that outfit if you were on holiday or it was actually hot but it was the middle of end of march and still very cold in england.

however you had demanded that you were a 'big girl who can dress themselves' alessia finally had won the small battle of getting you to change the shorts by telling you that you could change into them later knowing you would most likely forget and alessia would save herself from you catching a cold. it was the small win, but a win nevertheless!

you were now about half the way to wembley on the bus and you had spent most the time watching your ipad much to your mums surprise as she thought you would get bored of watching it after a while.

you'd had a few little fusses and your mum had solved this by letting you out of your seat and giving you a few seconds to wander the isle of the bus which is exactly what you were doing now by chatting beth and mary's ears off about the film you were watching.

"and she becomes a ballerina" you told to two as they both nodded along as you told the story of the film, "mummy says i can start dance lessons!" you smile getting sidetracked as the two gasp as you look at the two with a frown.

"what?" you ask innocently your head cocking to the side slighting in confusion as the two look at each other shaking their heads.

"i'll pretend i didn't hear that!" mary whispers but still loud enough that both you and beth hear her as beth hums in agreement as your eye brows furrow further.

"that i'm starting dance lessons?" you ask a small smile appearing on your face at the thought of joining them it being something you had been asking your mummy about for a few days now.

"i thought you were joining the local football team" beth asks as you shake your head, "no, dancing!" you argued back.

the two older women turn to your mummy, "less! is she actually joining dancing?" mary asks as alessia looks around to see where the sound of her name was coming from before her gaze landed on mary and beth’s head peering over the seats on the bus.

alessia nodded, "after this camp yeah, don't worry it won't last long. it was gymnastics last month" your mummy told the two, saying the last part a little quieter.

it was true, you had begged alessia to let you do gymnastics for three weeks straight and when she finally took you to a session you told her after when she asked you if you enjoyed it that you didn't want to go back because turning upside down made you tummy feel weird.

"well let's just hope she hasn't inherited your two left feet then!" mary joked, looking to you who had returned to your seat next to alessia, as the blonde rolled her eyes at the goal keepers comment knowing she couldn’t exactly argue with the statement.

as the bus pulled into wembley, your excitement levels hit another level, your mummy carrying you into the stadium a huge grin on your face you it was getting more and more closer to the start.

“mummy look there’s stina!” you pointed to the swede as she waved to you before heading to the changing room with her team. “yeah lovie she’s playing with sweden today, cause that’s where she was born!” your mummy explained as you nodded slightly.

“so like i was born in england and im english that makes stina swedenish?” you asked as mummy looks as you with a small smile, “close lovie, stina is swedish” she corrected you as you nodded before feeling someone tap you on the shoulder seeing millie and ella behind you.

“hey!” you frowned, crossing your arms over your chest - well trying to. “hey!” millie mocked you with a grin on her face as your frown deepened.

“oh don’t be all grumpy again, you’ve been little miss sunshine all day” ella commented as she poked at your side as the four of you got closer to the changing room.

“anyways who’s names on the back of ‘ere then?” ella asked pinching your england too you were wearing as alessia placed you down having reached the changing room, moving your coat to your shoulders to show ella, who sat on the bench letting your mummy begin to get ready for the match.

“my name!” you beamed as your back had ‘russo’ displayed on your back but instead of the number 23 you had four, for your age.

“i thought your name was y/n, not russo!” ella joked knowing what you meant but wanted to create a little joke to keep you entertained for a few moments to allow alessia to at least begin to get ready for the warm up.

“it is! russo my last name, like mummy silly!” you corrected ella, shaking your head as the brunette smiled.

“of course, silly me!” ella laughed as you did with her.

alessia had managed to get ready for the warm up as you sat playing with a small ball you had found back at the hotel and being with you, ella had given you a mission to try and see how many people you could nutmeg in the changing room, promising you a prize if you got a few people.

“gotcha!” you beamed, giggling a little as you rolled the ball through grace’s legs. hearing her gasp seeing the ball go through her legs making you giggle more.

“you little troublemaker!” she whispered with a smile, picking up your ball handing it back to you. “you’ve declared war now tiny!” she narrowed her eyes as you took your ball back looking for your next victim.

managing to get a few more people, including lotte, georgia and chloe before you heard mummy shouting your name.

“y/n!” mummy called you over as you ran back to her, as she sat you down on the bench in front of her. beginning the usual routine of telling you that you had to be on your best behaviour sitting on the bench, and to tell whoever you were sat with if you needed anything. you always sitting still, nodding you head along to each thing your mummy said.

"and remember you must stay with leah, okay?" your mummy reminded you, as kneeled down to your small height as she tugged your coat back onto your shoulder before finding the bottom of it and zipping it back up, to ensure that you didn't get cold while sitting in the dugout.

"yes mummy" you beamed, looking around the changing room as the rest of the girls were beginning to get ready to walk out. "are you gonna score today?" you asked, as alessia laughed a little.

"i will for you" the blonde smiled, as you cheered a little before embracing your small frame in a hug as she kissed your cheek. "good luck mummy!" you smiled, the blonde smiling too as you both pulled away from the hug.

"off you go, look, leah's waiting for you!" alessia pointed over to where leah was, standing in the doorway of the changing room. "bye!" you sung out, blowing kisses to your mum until you got to leah who scooped you up and walked you to the dug out.

you watched as your mummy walked out with the rest of the girls cheering your mummy's name as she waved at you at the end of the anthem singing, blowing you a quick kiss before she ran to her starting place on the pitch. you stood tall on the dugout seat. leah holding onto you to make sure you didn't fall.

the sound of the whistle went and leah helped you to sit back down in your seat wrapping a blanket around your legs to stop the cold london air getting to you as you helped to cheer them on.

you were no stranger to sitting with leah on the bench or in the stand when your mummy played for arsenal, the defender often watching you while your mummy played as when was not allowed to play because of a big ouchie on her knee.

you had helped leah making her knee better by putting a peppa plaster on it one day, the blonde admitting it had made it feel a lot better leaving you feeling very accomplished.

but one thing leah did like to do while the girls were playing was talk, she often helped you understand what was going on. but sometimes the blonde would begin to ramble and start with some really technical words and you think she would sometimes forget your only four and didn’t have a clue what she meant.

she often said that some of the front line, like the likes of hempo were a fox in the box but you didn’t know what she meant by that because there isn’t a fox even there nor a box which would leave you confused but you didn’t want to upset your auntie leah by not knowing what she meant as mummy had told you it not kind to upset people so you let her ramble on.

you knew that if the team your mummy was on was scoring then that was good thing and that was good enough for you.

“pass it g, that’s it! keep pushing forwards!” leah was mumbling to herself as the girls pushed towards the sweden goal, it landing in alessia’s feet as she smashed it into the back of the net not without falling on the ground.

you watched intensively your fingers in your mouth, along with leah as you were sat on her lap as she shot up with you in your arms, the two of you cheering for your mummy.

the rest of the game went a little boring for you, no team scored anymore after sweden equalised and your mummy came to sit on the bench with you during the second half of the game and before you knew it you were finally aloud on the pitch.

as mummy and her teammates walked around waving to the stranger in the stands, you running along side with your little ball again trying to see if you could nutmeg anymore people before trying to beat mary and get the ball into the back of the net.

“watch me gee, mummy” you yell, as they stop their walking around the pitch to watch you. you line up the ball and step back and run and kick it as mary moves the opposite way to the ball is going as you cheer and run to where your mum and gee were standing copying the same jump and first bump in the air that your mummy always does when she scores.

“did you see that mummy? gee?” you ask as you run up to them, your mum picking you up in the arm to two beaming with smiles and excitement just as you were.

“that was amazing tiny!” georgia cheers, holding her hand up for you to high five as you did slapping georgia’s hand.

“your getting so good at scoring lovie” your mummy complimented, kissing your forehead as you saw mary jogging over to the three of you. “that was a perfect goal tiny!” mary said ruffling your hair as you gave her a stern look resting your head on your mummy’s shoulder.

“see that was so much cooler than doing a dance lesson!” mary smiled as alessia looked over shaking her head at the goalkeeper a small laugh coming from georgia.

“mary! i’m trying to encourage her to try new things!” alessia scolded as mary shrugged her shoulders as the four of you walked back to their others.

the three began to talk but all you could heard was boring adult talk as your eyes were beginning to feel tired probably from all the running around you had done. having your blankie snuggled up to you, before alessia got to the tunnel you were asleep.

the blonde picking up your little backpack in her hand, as she walked down the tunnel with beth. “is that her down for the count?” beth asked as alessia nodded moving the hairs from your face to behind your ear.

“yep, it’s hard work being four and being and sensational footballer and dancer at the same time!” alessia joked shoving beth a little who rolled her eyes at the comment mumbling something about how you would learn to love football just like your mum.

“oh how i dread to imagine!”

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (3)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, four, five

Word Count: around 2K again.

Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times

A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)

Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.

Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.

Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.

That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.

(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.

Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.

Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.

Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?

Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.

After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.

At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.

"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."

Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.

"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.

"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."

"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.

"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.

"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.

"Take a guess"

"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"

The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.

His eyes darken, and his voice goes octanes lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."

She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.

He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.

"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."

By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.

At least until they reach Arlong Park.

Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.

Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.

A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.

She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.

Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.

The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.

Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.

Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.

It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--

And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.

"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.

‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’

And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.

Bastard.

''You better'', she whispers to herself.

[celestialtarot11]

Astrology Observations 🤍✨

Hi friends! Welcome back to another post 💅🏻 today we’ll be looking at astro observations! Please like, comment and reblog to help this blog grow ✨

Aries + Taurus pairing as friends/couple are the show stoppers. They draw attention wherever they go, there’s so much fire between them. Although Taurus is an Earth sign, Taurus does enjoy the finer things in life and passion! Aries helps to bring the heat in the connection and the two have a lot in common. Aries is headstrong, Taurus is as well. Both are self starters and independent. Both know what they want (taurus is a fixed sign) and both know what it takes to create + sustain it.

Aquarius sun experienced being the quiet one in group settings, especially if they were with people they didn’t necessarily understand or get along with. Its not that they aren’t smart, or capable of human interaction. They’re actually great at it, they just preserve their energy for better people/interactions.

Gemini’s love to story tell and embellish their stories! They love adding jokes, flare, and drama to their stories. They’re a bit like Leo-great at storytelling and communicating! Both Leo and Gemini love to entertain 🤍✨

Transits in your 4th house-family will require your attention more, and specifically the Mother could be around a lot more. Physically, emotionally and mentally even if you may not have a great connection. She may try to wiggle her way in your life during these 4th house transits. If you work with ancestors, they will be sending you dreams and messages day to day even more than usual. Expect the things that you need to liberate yourself from will come up in dreams, or day to day. Dreaming of your childhood for example can be triggering to some, whether the dream was good or bad.

Sagittarius are often quiet but have a lot to say when in a proper group setting. They think a lot of the world around them, and I notice they like to be in situations where they can mansplain 🤣 but offering advice and mediating conversations is their specialty. They’re blunt, honest, and get to the point.

Leo women often walk with a lot of respect, flare and spirit. Their head is held high.

Cancer women love going out and love staying home! They have their homebody moments too 💅🏻 cancers love a good time! And are not stuck in their shell as ya’ll may think

Cancer women may also be the type to have fairy tattoos, or tattoos that are delicate. They have tattoos that have a whimsical charm to them, even if it may be considered “dark.” There is an ethereal vibe to it!

Virgo women love planning, decorating and getting family together! Or who they consider family. They love setting the mood, setting the atmosphere, environment. They would be great party planners/wedding planners!

Pisces women may be into cars 👀

Scorpio moon women may get into nursing at some point or considered studying that!

Gemini women may love doing their own nails, and being proud of their art! They love to show off anything that expresses their skill.

Gemini Venus women want to speak different languages but may get frustrated at the effort required 😂 as a gemini venus myself yes

Capricorn moon women may enjoy having a minimalistic setup in their room, colors that are light and simple, but with a dash of darkness or vivid color! They love creating balance in their room and have an eye for intensity through detail

Leo rising commands all the attention in the room for themselves. But I’ve noticed if a Leo rising is not feeling confident in themselves, they can come across as arrogant, and self absorbed. It’s because part of them needs their own attention and space, but the native isn’t realizing that. Or the native doesn’t know how to meet their needs.

Thank you all for being here! I really appreciate it 🥹💗 Please enjoy the little observations I put together! Feel free to like comment and reblog ✨

Paid Readings 💗✨

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 11.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: the events of ch 11 in jk's pov

☆word count: 1.2k

☆a/n: this one made me sad :( hope you guys like it! I've purposefully not put the full explanation bc it hits better later in the story sooo sorry about that. also just a note that depression sucks and I hope none of you guys have to deal with it and, if you do, please know that you aren't alone <3

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook is annoyed. He’s been annoyed all day, and he really just wants to go home.

To go home to you.

“What’s got you sulking?” Jimin asks, and four pairs of eyes shoot towards Jungkook.

Indeed, they are at the restaurant for lunch, Gabrielle having joined them to eat on her lunch break from her internship. 

“Nothing,” Jungkook says, grabbing his glass of water and taking a long sip.

Taehyung frowns, yet remains silent. It’s been happening a lot frequently, and Jungkook has truly, really been annoyed by it.

“Missing OC?” Jimin teases, wiggling his eyebrows and earning a punch in the shoulder by Sera.

“Shut up,” she says as Jungkook clenches his jaw.

“Will you please fucking stop with that?” Jungkook lets out, unable to keep his ire from his voice.

Jimin’s gaze widens, and then he laughs. “Why are you getting so worked up?”

“Maybe because you’ve been a little shit about this the whole week?”

“You’re aware it’s making it seem like it’s true…”

“Stop, Jimin,” Sera intervenes, her tone stern and authoritative.

The only tone Jimin ever listens to. Indeed, Jimin stops, pouting, and he mumbles an apology. Jungkook ignores it, his gaze shifting to Taehyung, and he doesn’t miss the muscle feathering under Taehyung’s skin as he clenches his jaw.

“What?” Jungkook spits, unable to help himself.

“You fucking my sister?”

Jungkook lets out a bitter laugh, his heart clenching in his chest. “Nope. You guys need to fucking leave me alone is all.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything. This time, it’s Ariane’s turn to talk, and she does so with a pointed glare at Taehyung.

“I thought we said yesterday that we weren’t going to talk about her anymore.”

They did. Because scenes like this one have been happening the whole trip, and Jungkook really just wants to go home. The thought sticks around all day, up until they’ve had their shares of drink back at the Air Bnb, not feeling like going out.

Maybe Jungkook’s foul mood has been contributing to everyone’s lack of enthusiasm about going out, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d much rather stay at the Air Bnb, where he doesn’t have to avoid girls coming up to him trying to flirt.

Except Gabrielle. Though it’s not like that with Gabrielle, and he knows she’s a safe space. As much as someone can be without knowing about you - he reckons his only true safe space is you.

Perhaps that’s why he ends up sitting in his room with Gabrielle while the others chill in the living room. Partly to catch up, but also mostly to laugh at the absurdity of their parents wanting them to marry, as if they ever would.

“They’re crazy,” Gabrielle repeats for the hundredth time. “Complètement fou.”

Jungkook nods. “It’s nothing new. They’ve been like that since high school.”

Gabrielle chuckles, turning her head towards Jungkook. “Is your dad still an asshole?”

Jungkook winces, because he feels like his father has only been getting worse and worse with time, finding new ways to put Jungkook through hell all the time. Though the ignoring has been better than the fights and the constant insults he’d used to receive when he was younger, if he’s being honest.

“Yup. You really think someone like him could change for the better?”

Gabrielle slightly shakes her head. “Nah. People like our parents will die as shitty as they were the day they were born.”

Jungkook likes to think that his parents weren’t always like this. That, perhaps they were just corrupted by money growing up. But then again he can’t reconcile the image of his parents being kind to the one that he knows, that he’s known all his life.

So instead, he raises his beer. “Cheers to that.”

There’s a silence as Gabrielle drinks from the wine bottle she carried to the bedroom when they left the rest of the group back in the living room. Jungkook’s thoughts trail to you, and he wonders what you’re up to right now. You mentioned you were going out with your friends - are you already with them, or are you at home thinking about him like he’s thinking about you, too?

“What’s going on with Taehyung’s sister?” Gabrielle asks out of the blue.

Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlights. And though he wishes to say everything, to tell Gabrielle about what he feels for you, he knows he can’t. Not as long as you haven’t said it’s okay to talk about it.

And not when Gabrielle would likely tell Ariane, and Ariane would then tell Taehyung.

“Not you too,” Jungkook grumbles, and he hopes Gabrielle can’t spy the blush slowly dusting his cheeks, up to the tip of his ears.

“I’m just wondering!” Gabrielle says, and she lets out a small laugh before pushing a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve seen pictures, I feel like she would be your type.”

Jungkook makes a noncommittal sound as he shrugs his shoulders.

“So?” Gabrielle presses.

“So what?”

She rolls her eyes, laughing again. “Is something going on between you and her?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, preparing himself to lie to the one person that he’s never had to lie to before. “No.”

Gabrielle remains silent, the weight of her gaze on his profile heavy, and then she sighs. “Then, can I ask for your help?”

He stiffens. “What for?”

He knows what to expect - it’s the same as back when they were in high school, and she’d needed his help more than once then. Though he’d used not to mind, this time he hates it. So much so that he gets up, heading towards the door.

“Please,” Gabrielle says, stopping him with a hand on his wrist. “S’il-te-plait, Jungkook.”

“No,” he reaffirms, turning to face her. He thinks of you, thinks of the last time he kissed you, and wishes he was with you right now. “I can’t do this again.”

“Just this once,” she insists. “And then I will never ever ask that of you again.”

He thinks of the years. He thinks of Gabrielle defending him when his father insulted him during a dinner, or that time at the charity. He thinks about every night they’d fallen asleep in the same bed dreaming about a day where they wouldn’t have to worry about their family’s influence anymore. He’d thought she’d be okay now, independent as she was, but it seems she hasn’t escaped the pressure of her family yet, much like him.

“Gaby, I really can’t…” he trails off, scanning her features, hoping that she’ll understand, that she’ll know you are in his life and would never do something like that to you.

“Please,” Gaby says, her gaze begging.

He hates himself. He always has, more than he’d ever care to admit, but Jungkook hates himself too much for what he says next.

“Just this once.”

It’s like the universe was planning for this to happen anyway. Indeed, there’s laughter behind the door, and Gabrielle immediately grabs his face, pulling him down into a kiss. Jungkook closes his eyes, tells himself that you’ll understand, that he won’t lose you. 

When Gabrielle pulls away, looking just as uncomfortable as him, Jungkook whispers, “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

It’s easy, after, to pretend that the tears in his eyes are caused by Gabrielle. Even as Taehyung claps him on the shoulder as if to congratulate him, Jungkook doesn’t have to hide how much he aches from the inside out.

Gabrielle leaves, and Jungkook goes to bed right away, wishing to be able to skip time until he can see you again.

Until he can prove to himself that he hasn’t lost you.

Read chapter eleven here!

☆☆☆☆☆

:((((( i hate myself for hurting the babies so much.. please come scream at me

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[missredherring]

Trying Something New

Lucien Flores x Fat F!Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 2k

Position: Crying Out

Contents: established relationship. sexting. m!masturbation. so much kissing. cunnilingus. unprotected piv.

Summary: “Back in town tonight. Sex? Pls?”

A/N: It's here! My offering for @prolix-yuy's Bangathon '24!! I took the easy route with the plot, but idk. I have so much admiration for LJ and how she wove story and smut together in her own Bangathon. How'd she do it? Raw talent (and magic?).

I saw the position the wheel of destiny gave me and thought, "How would that work with a bigger body?" With modifications, of course!

Not beta read. All mistakes are mine.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

“Back in town tonight. Sex? Pls?”

The mug just touches your mouth when you read Lucien’s text, the steam settling on your upper lip. You wipe it away as you think it over, taking stock of how you’re feeling. His request definitely piques your interest. 

“Make sure to bring that cologne I like. The pillows don't smell like you anymore when I fuck myself into them.”

“Thank fuck. You’re so good to me, baby.”

That's all the permission he needs. The texts start coming in before you even get to work.

“Your clit is my favorite fidget toy.”

“Hands down.”

“Your pants. Haha.”

It’s early, so no one’s around to hear you snort. “How long have you been waiting to use that one?”

His reply is quick. “Got lots of time on my hands rn. Wish they were on you instead.”

Another one comes in during a meeting that could’ve been an email: “I've been dreaming about the way you feel when you thrust back into me.”

Maybe Lucien has a sixth sense for when you need a mood-boost, because the next one comes in right in the middle of a coworker asking such an inane question that it makes you worried for their mental well-being: “I’ve been dreaming about the sounds you let out when I fuck you so good, you forget to keep quiet. I need to hear them again.”

He sends you a voice memo at lunch.

Under the louder moans and panting you can pick up slick squelches, and picture each stroke of his cock that makes them. Maybe he's using spit, or lube, or even his own precum to ease the friction and make it sound just so enticing. 

It's only a minute and a half long, and ends abruptly when someone pounds on the door to tell Lucien that the ride to the airport is waiting for him. The way he curses and sighs, giving his cock one last stroke before stopping the recording, has your toes curling. You know how those curses felt when he spits them on your skin. 

Your ear is sore from how hard you press your phone into it to catch every moan. Then you remember the earphones in your bag and allow yourself to listen to it just one more time. 

The ache between your legs is simmering away nicely, and when you step into the bathroom to touch yourself a little, to tend to that ache before it boils over, you aren't surprised to see the damp spot on your underwear. It's shiny and gives away exactly where you've been rubbing against the seam of your pants for a little friction.

At least the horrible fluorescent lighting highlights the contrast of wet and dry fabric as you take a picture and send it to him with the caption: “Thinking of you.”

You force yourself to focus on work for the rest of the day, even as the wetness between your thighs keeps Lucien in the back of your mind, waiting.

When the last few minutes in your shift are ticking away you open the text thread.

“Fuck you.” 

“Promise.”

“The way you wiggle your hips to rub your clit on me just right to get yourself off. Fuck.”

“Just landed. Omw. Can't wait to see you.”

“Stretch before I get there. I want to try something new.”

Uh oh.

The scrape of a key in the lock announces his arrival as you spread out on the floor of your apartment. He comes in and drops his duffel bag at the door and you watch him look around from your place on the floor where you're stretching like he told you to.

Lucien lights up when he finds you in his scan of the room, his shoulders dropping while he shuffles his way over to you. You only have a moment to take in the way his face relaxes before he’s on his knees, draping himself over you and pushing you down on the floor with the dead weight of his body. 

The sigh he pushes out of your lungs is heavy, trapped between the hard floor and him, but as you both rearrange various body parts to get more comfortable you feel the fog of the workday lifting from you. 

The floor is cold on your back, but it’s nice after a hot day, and it helps combat Lucien’s body heat that’s starting to seep into you. 

He hums when you start to stroke through his hair. It’s a little oily, but still soft as you tangle your fingers through it.

The smell of cigarette smoke wafts up from where he’s nuzzling into your ribs, but that’s preferable to the stale airplane air that tends to cling to him after flights. 

“Thanks for all the dirty texts today. They made a shitty day better.”

He lifts his head a little to see over your chest and puts those brown eyes to work. You're sure he's getting a fantastic view of your double chins with the way you have to crane your neck to look at him, but his eyes stay on yours, his expression earnest.

”Good,” he says, “I thought I was annoying you since you didn't respond much.”

“I was busy; I'm sorry.”

The mood is relaxed but all it takes is a twitch of his mouth and a flick of his eyes down your body to change it. 

“Not too busy to send me pics of your wet panties though, huh?” He shifts to one side and runs his hands up your legs and over your stomach, playing with the hem of your pants. “I wanna see them. See if they’re still wet.” 

You roll your eyes. “I changed when I got home.”

Deft fingers pull your pants down and away, and you bask in the feeling of satisfaction at his delighted gasp when he finds out that you hadn’t replaced said wet underwear when you changed. Why would you when Lucien was on his way over?

He wastes no time: spreading you apart and lapping at you like he’s gone all day without anything to wet his tongue. Soon you’re shuddering your way through an orgasm and pulling him up for a kiss, unable to go any longer without his mouth on yours, even with your slick smeared across it.

Has he registered the move? With the way he’s sucking, your tongue and clit could be interchangeable. He doesn’t look surprised to see your face when he pulls back with a pop. 

“Remember when I said I wanted to try something new? It’s a position, no kinks. Do you still want to do it?” 

“If it involves your dick inside of me, then yes.”

The crow’s feet dig in deeper around his eyes when he grins. While you take off your remaining piece of clothing he wrestles with his until you’re both naked and you can’t look away from his bobbing dick as he crawls to you on his knees. A drop of precum falls from the tip and your tongue twitches with the need to catch it and taste him.

In front of you again, he shifts to sit on his ass and spreads his legs wide open. His big hands are all over you, gripping your wide hips and urging them forward until you’re notched together, shuddering at the heat burning between your legs. 

Lucien can’t be near you without kissing you, so he tells you his idea between peppering kisses along your plumps cheeks and the slope of your jaw. 

“I was thinking about when I fucked you with your toy last time, and you,” a nip here instead on your chin, “kept it inside when you went to clean up in the bathroom.” Another sucking kiss to your lips. “Do you remember how you rocked on the edge of the bed, just a little, before you got up?”

“No… I was more concerned with getting the least amount of cum on the sheets as possible.” 

“Mmm,” he rubs down your leg and wiggles a hand under one knee, slowly lifting it to drape over the arm still anchored to your hip. “Lean back on your hands and lift your other leg.” 

You end up supporting your weight on your hands behind you with your knees clinging to his biceps. Once your legs are secure over his arms he moves his hands up your torso, to rest just under your breasts. 

It might work; you can see where his mind connected the dots. The way your hips are angled is good, with his dick rubbing on your clit. It would be a nice grind when he’s inside you, but there’s an issue his search hasn’t factored in: your stomach. You’re almost folded in half with gravity doing you no favors in this vertical position.with your legs up  this high, your thighs are pushing your stomach up into your torso and chest. It’s a little hard to breathe, let alone move freely, and your hands are already feeling the stress of supporting your weight on the floor. 

“This isn't going to work this way.” You say, breaking the bad news quickly. Lucien frowns, all the excitement draining from him. It’s a little saddening, the way you free yourself from his hold so easily.

With a firm tug, you get him on his feet, using his hanging head to your advantage. 

“Look at me, baby. Kiss me,” you tell him.

He does, but it’s only a light press of his lips as disappointment sets in. It tips into ridiculousness when his mouth trembles a little from the force of his frown and you laugh in his face. 

“C’mon. I know you’re a better actor than that. We just have to make some adjustments.”

With his hand still in yours, you lead him to the bedroom and push him down onto the mattress, directing him to sit up near the headboard. 

The wedge pillow is fished from the closet and you chuck it to Lucien, clambering onto the bed with a bounce in your step, and everything else really. You’re excited now, and quickly get back into position. The pillow gives you more support under your hips so you don’t feel like you’re going to immediately fall backwards if you lose your grip on his shoulders, and the mattress is always more comfortable than the floor. 

When you hook your legs back over his arms you keep them lower by his elbows instead of his biceps, and the wider angle doesn’t push your thighs up straight into the rest of your body. Lifting and moving your stomach out of the way eases the pressure even more and you’re able to think about other things instead of the ability to take in a lung-full of air.

Satisfied, you look up to find Lucien watching you, the ruddy head of his cock peaking out from the clench of his fist as he touches himself. The edge of your confidence is sharpened on the lust written all over his face and you preen, rolling your shoulders and arching your back a little. The way his eyes track the movement of your breasts makes you smile.

“See something you like, handsome?” 

“Whenever I’m looking at you.”

A helpful dollop of lube makes the slide of his cock pushing in at this new angle good. 

He was right. The pleasure is building, and you realize what he was talking about now that it’s happening long enough for you to really feel it. The head brushes along your g-spot with every rock of his hips and you let your head drop back with a groan. Your hips join his in the rhythm he’s established and the meeting of bodies in the middle make you both moan, his hands gripping into the soft skin of your middle reflexively.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp out, “that’s so good, Luci.”

A low rumbling noise comes from him and he looks proud, pleased with himself. This is new. He doesn’t speed up or slam into you, seeking his own pleasure like he usually does, dragging you along for the ride. Instead he watches how your expression shifts, learns what your body likes, and applies it all with enthusiasm. 

Maybe you’re both trying something new tonight.

[bigfootsboytoy]

A lot of people love to talk about teacher!Steve and I've seen people speculate about him teaching History, or English or Gym. But hear me out...Art Teacher.

Steve Harrington, who took art as an elective in highschool thinking it would be an easy grade, but who ends up actually really enjoying it. He likes the satisfaction of making something and the methodical process of doing it. Later in life he knows he wants to work with kids, but he doesn't think he would be happy trying to teach any of the core subjects like math or English, he never cared for them much himself, and even the classes he liked he wasn't super skilled in. Then he thinks back to that art class, remembers how much he enjoyed himself, and he finds himself taking classes towards a teaching degree a few months later.

After a while, Steve finds himself with a job teaching art at a local middle school. He loves it. He loves working with the kids, even though most of them are little assholes. Apparently, that isn't unique to the party. All young kids are kind of assholes. But they're also funny, and they put thought into the projects he gives them. He always gives them a lot of wiggle-room creatively, giving assignments that focus on certain techniques like painting or working with clay, but allowing them to choose the subject matter themselves. He works alongside them, making his own little projects. He isn't VanGogh by any means, but he kind of likes that. It helps show his students that they can have fun with the art and really make something they can be proud of without worrying about it being perfect or looking like something they would see in a museum. His students adore him. They tease him and make fun of him, but at the end of the day, almost every student who takes his class ends up raving about it to their friends. Parents he meets on occasion love him too. And only partially because he looks hot as hell with his glasses and his paint-stained apron.

At the end of a project, he has everyone go around and talk about what they made. He isn't picky. They can talk about their favorite part of making it, the story behind it, why they chose certain colors, and parts they struggled with. Any little bit of extra information about the project is enough to get the points. He wasn't expecting them to rope him into it when he first started. Now, he fully expects the questions they ask whenever he shows off a project with them.

The first project is charcoal drawings, and Steve draws a weird looking bat with a crazy mouth and no eyes. He tells the class that a bunch of his family play DND, and they have really vivid imaginations. It isn't a lie.

Next they do sand-art and Steve makes a set of patterns comprised of bright, vivid colors. Oranges and pinks and greens. He tells the class it represents his best friend, who is one of his favorite people in the world. A week later he tells the class that he showed her the sand art and she declared it the ugliest thing she had ever seen, then proceeded to hang it in her room with a bright smile on her face.

During the sculpting unit, he makes a homemade mug, with little fish carved on the side. He tells the class his father-in-law collects mugs, and this one is going to be a birthday gift.

The class seemed to like sculpting, so he does a unit on wire-art. He makes a small wire guitar and a wire ring. The class ask, with shit eating grins, if he's got somebody he's planning on proposing to. He happily tells them he already proposed, this ring is just for fun, since his partner loves to wear them.

Steve's small apartment fills up over the years with tons of art projects gifted to him by his students, paintings and drawings hanging on the walls, and a whole bookshelf dedicated to the 3D work. He remembers that first part class he took sometimes, back when he was just a sad kid who's friends were all assholes, he was a bit of an asshole himself, who didn't know that horrible things existed just under his feet. He thinks back on it fondly enough, but he couldn't be happier that he isn't that kid anymore. He's pretty damn pleased being the teacher now.

[bookshelf-dust]

the hurt is good

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 2,344

warnings: swearing, smoking, reader is lonely, descriptions of billy’s abuse, mentions of neil

a/n: hi! so i decided to challenge myself with this. i’m making this a multi-part story. i’ve never done anything like this before, but so far i’m enjoying it. i’m not entirely sure where we’re headed, but i’ve got a sort of outline in my head. i’ve also decided to try something else new, and i’ve picked out some songs that you can listen to before you read to get you in the mood—but only if you want of course. this is all a really new experience for me but i have put a lot of heart into this first part. i hope that you enjoy this, really i do. also the title is from a part of hop’s letter to el. <333

before you read, listen to: wheel in the sky by journey and/or (don’t fear) the reaper by blue oyster cult

————

Sitting cross-legged on your bed, you turn the page of the book in front of you, the sound of the paper flipping an audible one.

You lift the hardback, tuck your nose into the center of the pages and give it a sniff. It might be odd to do so, yes, but to you, books are the best smelling thing in the world.

You put it back down, go back to reading.

A knock breaks you out of your fantasy literature-induced stupor.

“Honey? Okay for me to come in?” Your mother’s voice, soft and sweet.

“Sure.” Your voice is quiet when you speak, though just loud enough for her to hear.

Your bedroom door opens enough for your mother to stand just inside, her back against the frame, one hand gently resting on the knob.

You reach for your bookmark, drape it over one side of the pages and then close it.

“Hey, kiddo.” Her smile is easy. You try your best to give her one of your own, but you know it falls short.

“Wendy and I are going out to dinner tonight and then to an art show.”

Wendy was your mother’s longtime best friend, and quite the riot.

“Apparently her new girlfriend is something of an artist.” She gives a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. “Do you think you’d like to tag along?”

You uncross your legs and stretch them out: contemplating. Then you do the same to your back, which makes an obscene crackling noise—enough to make the both of you grimace.

You know how you’ll feel if you go out with your mother and her friend.

You’ll be okay for the first little while, but then there will be too many people. You’ll get nervous. You will probably say something wrong and feel the need to shut down. You will shut down. Your hands will get shaky and you’ll get upset, and by the end of the night you’ll wish you hadn’t gone at all.

You know how you’ll feel if you stay home, too.

You’ll be fine, totally fine, having avoided everything you’d face in the other situation. But you’d be guilty. Guilty because you’re young and you won’t be going out to do whatever or making friends. You’ll feel like you’re failing your mom, who just wants you to experience things.

You decide that leaving your house shouldn’t require this much stress.

“No, I don’t think so,” you finally say. “But thank you for offering.”

You watch your mother as she moves further inside your room, settling on the edge of your bed.

“Are you sure?” She sets her hands on your knees, tapping her fingers, many a ring glinting in the overhead light of your room.

“We could get frozen yogurt. You know, I really think you’ve turned Wendy into a monster after we went last time. It’s all she talks about now.”

That gets a small smile out of you, but brings an ache to your chest.

“I’m sure. Don’t get too crazy, tonight, though. And be sure to let me know about her new partner.”

“Alright. Hug or no? What’s the affectionate meter at right now?”

“A hug is fine,” you say through a quiet laugh.

She wraps her arms carefully around your shoulders, allowing you to squeeze first, that way she can gauge what you need.

“I’ll leave some money out so you can order pizza, okay?” You nod. “Also there’s a pint of the ice cream you like in the freezer.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my little honeybee.” With a final pat of your knee and a wink sent in the direction of your book, your mother sweeps out of the room, and a little while later she is out the door.

Alone in the house, you let out an exhale, before heading to the kitchen.

Opening the designated take-out-menu-drawer, you scrounge for the one belonging to a local pizza place. You go ahead and order now, knowing that it might take awhile since the place is in downtown Hawkins.

You realize, setting the phone down, that you don’t know what to do with yourself once you’ve got the chance to do whatever you please.

You retrieve your book to read on the couch until your dinner arrives, not only for a change of scenery, but because you’ll need to be out in the living room to watch an episode of your favorite show in a while anyhow.

You’ve only sat momentarily when you hear it. Hear him. When you hear his music, specifically.

Billy Hargrove lives a few doors down from you, just close enough that you can always hear when he comes home, music blaring—not that differently from the volume you play it at when alone in your car—and doors slamming.

You don’t know him personally, only from school. Only as this pretty boy who’s been in Hawkins a few months.

You know enough that you hate the way people at school look at him. Like he’s an object. Like he’s this foreign being just because he came all the way from sunny California. The way they talk about him. About his ass, or his car, or his little redhead sister.

You know he’s pretty. You’d never deny that. But he’s just like the rest of you, and it bothers you that people treat him—at least from what you’ve seen—like this all-powerful dude.

But you also know enough that you think maybe he doesn’t have the best home life, just from what you’ve seen when you’re not out—which is always.

Sometimes you see him walking up and down the street at various times during the day. Or you hear his car speed off.

Sometimes, though really only sometimes, you see him trailing his sister while she skateboards, either talking or sitting while she goes.

To you, he seems like a loner.

And maybe it’s because you’re one too that you see him that way. That you can see him that way.

————

Outside, Billy cups his hand around his cigarette. It’s seemingly out of habit, since it’s not windy out. His thumb slides along the spark wheel of his lighter once, twice before the flame catches. The tip glows red in the night.

He walks a little further, as he inhales deeply, closing his eyes and soaking it in. He kicks a rock, hard, trying to see if it’ll hit the post of the mailbox a few feet ahead of him.

He watches a pizza delivery car ride by and pull into a driveway. He hasn’t made it very far on his walk. The walk he wouldn’t be taking because it’s pretty damn cold outside.

But Neil Hargrove wasn’t aware that Max Mayfield had joined the Hawkins AV Club, and when there was no Max at home, he took it out on Billy, telling him he was an irresponsible waste of space.

It took Susan getting home with her daughter and explaining the situation for Neil to calm down.

But Billy’s back was aching from where he’d been slammed up against a doorframe, and frankly he wanted nothing more than to get out of the house.

So here he was.

A porch light flicked on as if whoever was inside had been waiting on that pizza. You had been—sitting on the couch and listening for car sounds.

When the delivery guy rings the doorbell you appear, and Billy realizes he knows you. That he goes to school with you. You’re very quiet. He also thinks your very pretty, and he’s never noticed that before.

You look very comfortable; all of your clothes seem to be too big. With the way the yellow outside light hits you, it gives your face a multitude of shadows. Billy thinks about some of the greek statues he learned about in a history class back when he lived in California. About how artists tended to sculpt women with real bodies.

Shit, he thinks. He’s probably staring at you. But you really are very pretty.

On the stoop, you take the pizza and set it on the table just inside the door and then hand the guy his money.

You decide not to be a dick and make sure that he gets out okay. When he backs out, you catch a flash of red out of the corner of your eye.

You wouldn’t be able to see him if it weren’t for the street lights. Billy is looking at you. You smile at him, and to your surprise, he smiles back.

“You okay?” You ask, hoping that your voice carries to him, because you don’t feel like shouting.

You watch him shrug and take another drag of his cigarette. The fingers on his free hand fidget with the ring he’s wearing, and you pretend not to notice.

“You?” He questions in return. Something about the sound of his voice makes you feel warm inside.

You shrug back, and he lets out a breath of a laugh, before you turn around to go inside and he continues with his walk.

You kick the door shut and lock it behind you, thinking about Billy.

That is the most extensive conversation you’ve ever had with him, aside from one a few days after he started at Hawkins High, when he didn’t know where the auditorium was, so you walked him the whole way there. You were pretty sure he’d been embarrassed to have to ask for help, but you hadn’t been bothered at all.

In fact, that exchange outside was the most conversation you’d had with anyone outside of your mother in a while.

Most days you didn’t say a word at school, keeping to yourself, trying to get homework done any chance you could so that it didn’t actually become homework. Sometimes you had to speak with a teacher though, and of course you said thank you when someone held a door—but that was it.

Quite frankly you didn’t know what to think. Part of you hoped you’d see him again. That you’d make a friend.

You hadn’t had a friend in a very long time.

————

When your mother returns home, it is with many beans to spill.

Wendy’s new partner, who you found out was named Stephanie, was, in your mother’s words, “Hot enough to go gay for.”

Your mother had also undoubtedly had some to drink while out and about.

“Also that boy from down the street? Don’t you go to school with him?”

You start fussing with a string on your sleeve. “Yeah, why?”

“Well he was brooding on his porch when Wendy retrieved me, and he’s still wandering around outside. It’s been,” she checked her watch, “three hours.”

You scratch at your nose, thinking.

“I saw him when the pizza got here.”

Your mother hums. “Well, I’m going to go shower the art gallery off of me and then probably stay up too late reading.”

“Okay.”

She smiles sweetly at you, collecting the pile of rings and other jewelry that she’d taken off and set on the counter while talking to you, and then you’re alone again.

You flatten your body over the countertop, bending at the waist and stretching so that your fingers can grip the other side.

You think about Billy out there. He was obviously going through something. And maybe it isn’t any of your business, but you hate the idea of him being alone, wallowing in self-pity. Not that you have any room to talk.

You straighten, walking carefully so as to not allow your socked feet to slip along the floor, and find yourself reaching for your coat.

Shoving your feet into a pair of shoes, you flip on the porch light once again, and make your way outside.

Across the street, Billy is resting against a low wall that has a mailbox set into it.

Looking both ways out of habit, you make your way towards him, stopping a few feet away. He looks up at you, both hands on the brick underneath him. There is a half-finished cigarette in one of his hands. You find yourself wondering how much he’d smoked since he’d been out here.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He quirks a brow at you.

“You’ve been out here a long time, you know that?”

Billy glances at his watch. “Seems so.”

“Not cold?”

“‘M fucking freezing my ass off out here.”

You try and choose your words carefully, not wanting to push too hard. “Seems like you could solve that problem if you went inside.”

“Are you worried about me or something, Y/N?”

Trying not to think about the way your name sounded leaving his mouth, you admit to your crimes.

“Yeah, actually. You were out here earlier, and my mom said she saw you when she left and when she got home. I didn’t like the idea of you being alone.”

Something in Billy’s face softens. “Yeah?”

You exhale, your breath leaving a plume of air in front of you.

“Yeah.”

“Well then I guess I better get my ass inside, huh?”

You stuff your hands into your pockets and realize what you’ve got in there.

“Here.” You pull out a little hand warmer packet an hold it out to him.

Billy laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, you think. Charming and hearty. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

————

At school Monday, you make your way to the lunch table you’ve claimed, grass squishing under your feet.

You flip open your book, shove one leg under you.

It’s only been a little while of munching on grapes and forcing yourself to concentrate before you feel a weight drop onto the bench across from you, shifting the old table a little.

You look up. Billy Hargrove looks back.

He throws his bag on the worn wood, slaps a book of his own on top of that.

You’re confused at his appearance, and he seems to sense that.

“I didn’t like the idea of you being alone.”

You feel yourself heat up, and sit on one of your hands because you also feel like you could cry.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[mothiir]

hunting lessons

In which Konrad attempts to bond with his brother.

cw: Konrad being Konrad, gore, dubcon, Sanguinius being feral and also deserving better. Blame @kit-williams

—

—

“Brother,” Konrad says, on the third day. “You need to eat.”

Sanguinius moans, pillowing his face further into his own wings: a huddle of slumping feathers and sweat-slick flesh, pallid with fever; disgustingly vulnerable, begging for a knife to the back. Fortunately for him, Konrad is here with benevolent intentions -- he has brought a gift!

The gift in question is you.

“Brother, you will heal much faster when you are no longer starving,” Konrad continues, padding across the plush carpet, dragging you by the scruff. Sanguinius makes another bleary noise. The Drukhari spear that carved across Sanguinius’s chest was poisoned, and though the assailant was swiftly dealt with by Konrad’s blades, the corruption remains. Not enough to kill — so little can kill a Primarch — but enough to cause deep discomfort both to Sanguinius (in the process of healing) and Konrad (who must watch his brother be a damn fool — which, he would wager, hurts more.)

You squeak. This at least catches Sanguinius’s attention: the Primarch lifts his head, shadows purpling his under-eyes, golden hair clinging to his cheeks.

“Konrad,” he rasps. “What is that?”

“A gift,” says Konrad. “You look like death.”

“I am fine. That looks like a human woman.”

“It is.” Konrad holds you aloft, like you’re some kind of prize fish. You have gone completely still at the sight of Sanguinius; your eyes wide with awe.

“Why have you brought me a human woman?” Sanguinius says, in that same pained rasp, like each word is a rope of thorns hauled up from his gut.

“You sound like death,” Konrad says, by way of answer, flinging you onto the bed and joining you. It’s a ridiculous item of furniture — wastefully large. It comfortably accommodates the two Primarchs, with room to spare. Konrad’s quarters are far more appropriately furnished: a smaller bed, and thus more room for his collection of flaying knives.

“Konrad --”

”You are hungry,” Konrad interrupts. “I asked who wanted to help the Angel who had saved this region from those knife-ear raiders. Several humans volunteered and I picked her out of them. She is here willingly.”

“She was — wiggling a lot,” Sanguinius says, awkwardly dragging himself into a seated position, his wings doing their best to support him. The wound looks only marginally less awful than before: a deep gash across his left pectoral; the skin at the edge blackened and putrefying; the flesh at the centre new and wet. It is healing, at least — but not fast enough.

You gasp at the sight. “My lord —“

“I did not ask for you to speak,” Konrad growls, and you immediately lapse into silence. Konrad feels a little pulse of satisfaction at the terror on your face; the stories of the Night Haunter and the Angel have spread far and wide -- you must accept the Emperor’s mercy, or you will face his justice.

“I said she was wriggling a lot for — for a volunteer —“

“She did not expect me to drag her here,” says Konrad. “She should have walked faster.”

You have the decency to look ashamed.

“…that does not explain why she is here at all.”

Why must his brother be so obtuse? Konrad is beginning to regret trying to help in the first place — perhaps Sanguinius sees some long-term benefit to his absurd suffering. Perhaps he had a vision in which he was only able to defeat a Chaos incursion because he was languishing in sweat-stained sheets, and thus was present when a daemon attempted to manifest on his bedside table. 

Urgh — what was it Fulgrim said? Count to three. One. Two. Three. And if the dark-hungry urge to maim and tear and hurt has not gone away, try again. One two three. Konrad’s fingers twitch.

“Konrad?” Sanguinius prompts.

Onetwothree. He eyes the nape of your neck, the soft flesh there, the epidermis that could just be peeled away with so little effort for the crime of -- of something, he’ll think of something -- 

“Konrad.”

Konrad tears his gaze away from you, and glowers at his brother. “You are injured. You could be better sooner, if you were obtaining the food you needed, and you are not.”

Sanguinius sighs: that deep, full-body exhalation that Konrad hates so very much, because it always precedes a lecture about why ‘civilian casualties should be minimised’ and ‘terror tactics have a place but that place is not the bedroom of a farmhand who shot Sevatar’s favourite crow’.

“Konrad — I have been dining well —“

“No, you’ve been eating the same slop we feed the Astartes. It’s not enough. I know what you actually need to eat — drink. Blood. You need blood.”

Sanguinius falls silent. Konrad resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“You know of that?” says Sanguinius.

“Of course I do — I am not the Lion. I have functioning eyes and second sight.“

Sanguinius shuffles further up now, his gaze switching to you.

“And she — does she know what you were asking of her?”

“I would do anything to help,” you say, without blinking. “You saved my planet from those monsters — you saved my friends. If I can help — if I can do anything at all —“

“Oh my child, you do not know what you are offering,” Sanguinius says. He licks his lips — so swiftly that a human would not have caught the gesture, but Konrad is not human. He brightens a little — perhaps his noble fool of a brother is not completely beyond reason.

“She does. She’s human. She’s willing and volunteering.”

“I can’t imagine many humans would say no to you, brother dear.”

Konrad growls with frustration. Sanguinius is ravenous; Konrad can smell it. And yet he holds back — shuffling away from the you until his wings are pressed against his ornate bed frame, warm lamplight suffusing his perspiration-drenched face until he practically shines. Sanguinius the mighty, Sanguinius the glorious, Sanguinius the stubborn fucking brat of a pigeon who would rather let himself rot and ferment rather than just taking care of himself. Sanguinius who has the damn nerve to show Konrad kindness, to dim the lights on his ship so his retinas do not burn from the artificial brightness, to call him brother and soothe away the gut-wrenching pain of his visions -- Sanguinius who has the nerve to make Konrad care for him --

And Sanguinius, who then will not let Konrad help. It is a new sort of pain: hopeless and strangling, the desire to help -- the ability to do so -- and then to be thwarted. 

“Would you like me to show you what to do?” Konrad sneers, his thin lips curling up to show his barbed fangs. He pulls you into his lap, gently tugging at your hair to expose your neck; that pulsing blue vein just begging to be torn into.

(He perceives the movement as gentle, because if he was not gentle he could — with very little effort — rip your head from your shoulders. You do not perceive it as gentle. You are pretty certain he has ripped out a bit of your scalp.)

“Konrad,” says Sanguinius, trying so hard to sound stern. But he has not moved to push Konrad away from you.

“Here. I’ll show you. I won’t kill her — I promise.”

Konrad licks along your jugular, his mouth puddling with saliva as you shiver. Your fear-sweat is delicious, and for a moment he forgets himself, lapping at you again -- just to feel you freeze into a statue, a fawn quivering before a wolf, hoping not to be spotted. He smiles against your neck, flicking his eyes up to Sanguinius. His brother is just as frozen as you, eyes fixed on where Konrad’s teeth dent your skin -- not breaking it, not yet -- his breath high and tight. 

“You -- you shouldn’t do this,” Sanguinius says, and Konrad knows full well that Sanguinius is not talking to Konrad, but to himself. The Angel is warring with his baser nature. 

Konrad bites down, not bothering to hide his sound of intense pleasure as your blood pours over his tongue, sweet and thick. He is careful not to chomp down too hard -- he could so easily crush your windpipe -- and so finds himself sucking at you to get the blood flowing properly. The sound of him slurping and swallowing is obscenely loud, with your whimpering inhalations only other noise in the room, because darling Sanguinius has stopped breathing entirely. 

Of course. He’s trying so hard not to smell you. Konrad pulls away, licking his chops as you -- very quietly -- start to sob. 

“Well, if you’re not hungry,” he says, shuffling you to the side, nosing at the other side of your neck. Already, the shape of his mouth is staining your flesh storm-purple, broken blood vessels standing out like little red starbursts. 

Sanguinius makes a thin, strangled sort of sound. Konrad exhales onto your skin, watching it goosepimple, then bites again — this time you cry out, whimpering as he laps at the blood spilling out, deliberately sloppy. He wants Sanguinius to smell it — he wants him to give in. His foolish noble precious brother —

“Konrad, you have to stop,” Sanguinius says, completely without rancour, his eyes fever-bright and manic. His tongue drags over his upper lip. “I can’t control myself right now —“

“You shouldn’t have to,” Konrad says. “You give so much of yourself to humanity — you sacrifice everything. Don’t you want to have something in return? Don’t you think you deserve that?”

Sanguinius wrenches his head aside, tendons standing stark in his neck. Konrad huffs frustration. 

“You stupid noble martyr pigeon bastard,” he growls. “Just eat.”

In one swift motion he gathers you up, and throws you into Sanguinius’s arms. The Primarch catches you on reflex, curling you close. The shock of movement forces him to breathe -- just a little -- and his eyes darken at once, pupils practically swallowing up his iris, until he is staring at you with a gaze as black as Konrad’s own. 

“Lord Sanguinius,” you squeak. “I -- I do want to help, I do -- “

Even now. Even now you are sweet-hearted and dedicated and grateful, peering up at Sanguinius with the face of a martyr, your throat blackened by Konrad’s teeth. Suddenly, Konrad wants to haul you back, lick the blood from your throat, coo into your ear about what a precious and rare thing your absurd selflessness is -- and then push your face into the blankets and force himself inside you, and not stop fucking you until your thighs are sticky with his seed and your blood. The pulse of arousal is so abrupt it has him reeling; the taste of your blood, the smell of your innocence, the wide-eyed earnestness of your offer. Maybe it won’t be a bad thing if his brother won’t feast on you; he can drag you out to the hall and have you there —

“The way you smell,” Sanguinius breathes, sounding dreamy — almost rapturous. “By the Emperor’s light—forgive me —“

He gathers you up to his face, cradling you in his wings. 

And then he licks up your neck. You mewl, reaching for his hair — to push him away? — no, you pull him closer, urging him on. Foolish, stupid, sweet-smelling martyr. Konrad’s teeth ache for your flesh --

Sanguinius moans. He licks your throat completely clean, dipping his head to lap at your collarbone.

The shallow wounds Konrad left are already starting to close. Sanguinius slurps around them, dragging out the last vestiges of blood, then — in a whirl of feathers — flips you both over, so he mantles you, his bulk hiding you completely from Konrad’s view.

“I am going to bite you again,” Sanguinius says, whispering into your ear. “I will be as gentle as possible, I promise. You just have to stay very very still. Can you do that for me? Yes? Good girl.”

He licks at your neck one last time, before sinking down, situating himself between your legs, hoiking up your dress to press his teeth against your thigh. Konrad can see your underwear, the faint shadow of your arousal — the growing dampness. Oh you sloppy little whore —

The first few inches would slide in with little trouble, then he would have to force himself deeper. You’d be so tight, cringing and whimpering and weeping and begging —

Sanguinius licks your thigh; you whimper, stuffing your fingers in your mouth to try and stifle the sounds. Konrad could give you something else to keep you quiet — oh how he wants to. But his brother — his idiot pigeon brother — is finally finally listening to reason, and Konrad cannot risk ruining that.

“Shhhh. It’s alright, little one, it’s alright.”

He lifts your legs higher, your ankles meeting behind his nape, making escape completely impossible.

And then he bites. You gasp, your hips moving upwards; seeking stimulation that Sanguinius does not offer. The Primarch is too busy to indulge your carnal needs; his teeth have found their mark, and each trembling beat of your heart forces a fresh spurt of blood into his mouth. He swallows greedily, his lips a tight seal around the wound, his expression at once gentling — the perpetual tension he carries vanishes, crow’s feet easing, shoulders slumping. Konrad realises that he never has seen his brother truly at rest; Sanguinius is always fighting this urge, reining in his appetite.

“There,” he says, fighting the absurd urge to stroke his brothers hair. “Isn’t that better?”

Sanguinius mumbles something against your thigh, still gulping away. Konrad’s cock twitches impatiently at the sight of your face — wild-eyed, bracketed with bruises like a burned sacrificial garland; your fingers still in your mouth, your jaw tense to stop yourself crying out.

“I can give you something to distract you from the pain,” Konrad purrs. “I can fill your throat up so there is no room for screaming.”

It has been far too long since he’s had a woman. He doesn’t like criminals — he likes the sweet, kind sort, the sort that will offer help when they have so little themselves. They taste the best, and feel the sweetest when wrapped around his cock; like a borrowed— or stolen — glimpse of something better than him.

(He lets them live after, because killing someone you’ve fucked just seems rude.)

He rearranges himself, crawling towards your face, fiddling with the fastenings of his loose leather trousers. As soon as he touches your face, hooking one thumb into the corner of your mouth to admire the stretch, Sanguinius breaks away from his feast and snarls: a bestial sound that has you whimpering and cringing, and even Konrad starts. There is no trace of the Emperor’s best and brightest son in Sanguinius’ face: only the flagrant hunger of a territorial beast.

“She’s mine,” he growls. His voice has dropped to a bass register so deep that you feel rather than hear it — it echoes in your marrow. “My meal — mine —“

“Easy, brother. I don’t want to steal your pound of flesh. I just want to borrow her tongue.”

“I want it to stay in her mouth,” Sanguinius growls.

“A fair request. I will keep it in place.”

“And her blood is mine.”

“Of course. And her cunt, if you want it.”

Sanguinius blinks, and looks between your thighs as though he had forgotten entirely about your womanhood. Maybe he had. “Her cunt? Yes. Yes. After. You’d like that, wouldn’t you darling? Can smell it on you.”

Sanguinius is half feral, acting wholly on instinct as he licks a sloppy line up your underwear, your body jack-knifing at the sudden thrill.

“Delicious,” he sighs. “I will have you after. You’ll like that, I can tell.”

As Sanguinius settles back in to feed, Konrad finally frees his cock and strokes himself to the sight of your adorable, wrenched expression. The shadow of his cock bisects your face like a cloud over the moon, and he smirks at the sheer size of it compared to you. You are tiny — and he is not, and Konrad would be mortified to realise that despite his claims to be so much worse than his siblings in this he is completely akin to them, because by all that is unholy he adores how little you are and how large he is.

“Stick your tongue out,” he orders, and you obey, lolling it out on another panting breath. It isn’t enough. He uses his finger and thumb to stretch your mouth open further — until your jaw cracks, and you whine in discomfort, and that’s what he wanted, the utter supplication of your mouth forced to gape open, in an obscene precursor to how the rest of your body will gape and flutter when they’ve finished taking turns on you.

The dreaded feeling of an impending vision swings into Konrad like a flurry of crows taking flight, and he curses his damn foresight, until the vision resolves: you are lying in the curve of Sanguinius’ wing, your throat patterned with fresh marks, your cunt already stretched and sore from earlier use. Sanguinius is lapping at your shoulder, purring in contentment, and Konrad himself is preparing to take you again. You mewl unhappily as he starts to press in, clutching at Sanguinius for support. The Angel threads his fingers through your hair, murmuring support as Konrad calls you a little whore, the perfect warm hole for him. Your belly distends around the shape of his cock and —

All at once, Konrad is back in the present. For the first time, one of his prophecies leaves him smiling, content in the knowledge that the future holds at least a little comfort. Sanguinius is back to glutting himself on your femoral artery, one of his hands resting on your abdomen as he sinks an exploratory finger into your shamefully slick cunt. His wings mantle you both, one resting across Konrad’s shoulders, as though sheltering him. 

“Keep your throat open,” he says, like you have any choice in the matter, and pushes into wet, velvet heat.

For now, at least, the worries of a darkening future are a world away. 

[bunnyley00]

Camping

pairing: fem!reader x vamp!gojo (i have no idea why just roll with it. part of a story i never finished; 5.2K words)

warnings: PWP :3, degradation, praise, lotsss of dirty talk and compliments, fingering, oral sex, marking, daddy kink, gojo loves you a lot

A game of truth or dare gone right.

Gojo led you off of the RV, the sky painted with deep reds and oranges, as well as bright yellows as the sun got lower and lower. He opened the side panel on the bottom, revealing a tent or two and some sleeping bags. “So? What d’ya say, baby?,” he smiled, and you nodded with a smile of your own, “Let’s do it.” “I knew you were mine for a reason,” he hummed, pulling out the tent and handing you the sleeping bags. It didn’t take long to set the decent sized portable home up, only taking about 10 minutes before the both of you were settled in and cozy. “I’m glad this thing has a bottom even though we have sleeping bags and a blanket,” you mused. “Yeah. I never did like the tents that were exposed on the bottom. Leaves room for too many bugs to come join us,” he mused, “Want to watch a movie?”, he asked, having grabbed his iPad before exiting the RV. You raised an eyebrow. “Does your hotspot even work out here?” He opened his mouth to say something before checking and closing it. “Nope. Dead zone,” he sighed dramatically, falling back against the blankets under him. “I thought as much,” you giggled, “What should we do then?” “Hmm,” he sat up, “Truth or Dare?” He wiggled his brows as the suggestion left his lips.

“Truth or Dare it is then, fuckboy,” you nodded with a laugh, sitting criss cross across from him. He mimicked your position, “Hey! Be nice. Truth or Dare?” “Truth,” you hummed. “Hmmm, is it true that you like wearing my clothes because you love the way I smell?”, he asked, watching as you rolled your eyes playfully and blushed. “Well, duh...stupid. We’ve been together for 6 months. Truth or dare?” “You’re the one who called me a fuckboy, I was trying to be cute for once,” he grinned, “Truth.” “Copycat. And try harder,” you teased, “What was the first thing you noticed about me when you met me?” He paused, taking a minute to think briefly. ‘Your scent.’ “Your hair,” he settled, looking up at you, “Your hair,  definitely,” he repeated softly, reaching a hand out to tuck a stray strand behind your ear, fingers grazing your jawline as it came down. You leaned into the touch, cheeks flushed as you rolled your eyes half heartedly. “Cute,” he mumbled with a chuckle, “Truth or dare?” “Dare,” you spoke up. “Ah, now she’s getting bold,” he teased, “I dare you to,” he trailed off, tapping his chin, “I dare you to let me give you a hickey,” he said, “Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” This was uncharted territory. Of course he had kissed your neck before, but he’d never actively left any marks yet, for fear of not being able to control himself. He was absolutely dying to do so. You felt your face heat up. “Alright.” 

That was all Gojo needed to hear. It would be a major test of his metal, to not extend his fangs and sink them into your supple skin and finally taste you. He moved forward, tucking his face in the crook of your neck before kissing it a bit. “Tell me when to stop.” His voice was like silk, as was the feeling of his tongue and soft lips on you. You fought the urge to whimper, just letting out a breathy sigh as he gradually began to use teeth. His mouth was gentle against you, kissing and sucking in the same spot, slowly, and frankly, knowingly working you up. He suddenly bit down a little harder than before, causing you to gasp. “G-Gojo”, you whimpered, a hand shooting up to tug his white hair a little. He couldn’t stop the groan that left his mouth after that, easing up before pulling back. The look on your face was priceless, face flushed, pupils expanded as you reached up to graze your fingers over the blossoming mark, your pretty lips parted. Fuck. It made Gojo want to pounce on you. “Don’t stare at me like that,” you murmured, looking off to the side. “Sorry, sweetheart. I can’t help it when you whimper my name like that,” he whispered. “Truth or dare?”, you asked, meeting his gaze again. “Dare,” he said immediately. “I dare you to let me find your sweet spot,” you proposed and Gojo hummed, intrigued by your boldness. “Go for it,” he smirked, watching as you crawled forward. You kissed him first, your lips slotting against his soft ones with a breathy sigh through your nose. His hands moved to rest on your hips as you pulled back, trailing your kisses down to his neck. His eyes fluttered closed as you peppered his skin with your kisses, occasionally licking and nibbling on some spots just to get a reaction out of him. 

He groaned at each small bite you delivered, taking your ministrations down his neck. His groans did nothing but turn you on, making your thighs pressing together as whimpers sounded out against his skin. “Fuck,” he suddenly moaned loudly, your mouth at the base of this neck and grazing the edge of his soft, defined collarbones. To hear the way his voice dropped, to see his body tense and watch his eyes close even tighter than before- it was enough to make you want to straddle him. You trailed your mouth lower, running your tongue over his collarbone before biting down slightly, sucking on the now light red skin. His reaction was immediate, his hand moving to weakly grab the back of your head. His other palm laid on your hip, thumb absently rubbing at the sliver of exposed skin. One of your hands was on his thigh, giving you leverage as you continued. “Fuck-, harder. Bite down harder,”  he groaned, his fingers gripping your locks. You bit down harder, using more force as you looked up at him through your pretty lashes. You didn’t pull back until there was a blooming hickey, the purple and red looking oddly pretty on his light skin. 

When he opened his eyes, his gaze met yours, swirling with arousal. As were yours, your hands clasped together in your lap. “Do you want to keep playing?,” he asked, voice slightly rougher than before. “I don’t know,” you answered back, yours breathy and airy, a stark contrast from his. “What do you want, then?”, he asked. A long moment of silence washed over you two, your gaze lingering on the floor of the tent before you looked up at him again, chewing on your bottom lip.

“You.” 

“Say it again,” he murmured, voice lower in volume. He wanted, needed to hear you say it. 

You sighed softly. “I want you, Gojo” 

“I’m sorry, who, my love?,” he purred out, tone as sweet as honey yet devilish at the same time.

“I want you, Satoru,” you nearly whined.  

“Better.” 

He moved forward then, guiding you toward him again. One hand cupped your face as his lips met yours, kissing you languidly. A small shuddering breath escaped your nose as your body drew closer, his other hand returning to your hip. You shifted as you finally got close enough, not pulling back as he pulled you in so you could straddle his lap. Your breath hitched upon feeling his cock pushing up against your ass, tensing above him. The change in your body language didn’t go unnoticed. Gojo pulled back, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “You sure you want it, sweetheart?” he murmured, “We can wait longer.” You shake your head, “No. It’s fine.” “Are you-” You shut him up with another kiss, and he took your answer happily, starting to move your hips back and forth on top of him. The sensation of your pussy rubbing against your wet panties made you moan, his length twitching against you. “So pretty,” he breathed against your lips, rolling his own hips upward. “You look so fucking good right now, grinding on top of my cock,” he groaned, running his thumb over your bottom lip, “My pretty girl, God, you’re gorgeous.” 

With each compliment, your cheeks grew hotter, his lips kissing yours again before he moved them to your neck. “I can’t wait to make you cum over and over again. Make your legs shake and hear your cute little voice moan my name,” he whispered into your ear, and you were glad you were still grinding on top of him, as the words made your clit throb and your hips squirm from his low tone. His mouth laved over your neck, his large hands still guiding you back and forth on top of him. He left copious amounts of hickeys behind, the desire to see your skin marked up almost as strong as the carnal one wanting to bite you with his fangs and leave you a moaning mess on top of him. He could feel your arousal, how potent it was in the air of the small tent. Soft lips grazed against your jawline, the hand on your face moving down to grope one of your breasts. He kneaded it in his palm, listening to your breathy moans while he nibbled and kissed at the sensitive spot. You threw your head back and he nearly lost it, your neck on display with the marks all over it making his fangs want to extend. 

“Yeah?”, he whispered, “Does that feel good, love?” You bit your lip, nodding and moaning as he pinched at your nipple. “F-Fuck, Satoru-” “That’s right, baby, keep moaning for me.” The hand on your hip slid around to your ass, squeezing it while his mouth continued its path down to your shirt collar. When he got there, he stopped, ceasing all movement with your hips despite your protesting groan of disapproval. He chuckled softly, shifting and picking you up to lay you down on your back. “Cute,” he hummed, “Patience, love. I’ll make you cum soon enough.” His hands ran down your sides, fingers hovering at the hem of your shirt. He looked up at you in question and you answered with a small nod. He lifted your shirt up then, helping him take it off and toss it to a corner of the tent. He growled softly at your choice of bra, the piece of lingerie black and lacy, a red bow in the middle of your round breasts. “Such gorgeous tits, fuck,” he breathed, kneading each one as he leaned over you, kissing and mouthing at the tops of them. Your back arched a bit, a hand running through his hair. He left his marks there as well, wanting to make his presence known all over your body. His slender fingers reached under you to unclasp it when you could take no more, your hands tugging at his shirt. “God, fuck, just look at you,” he murmured, taking in the sight.

He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding them down against the tent floor as he latched his mouth onto a nipple. He sucked on it softly, wrenching a moan from your lips. “Mmm,” he hummed, looking up at you as you writhed under him. He switched between the two, blowing cold air on them after he showed them love with his hot tongue. “T-Toru, please,” you whimpered suddenly as he slipped a knee in between your legs, teasingly rubbing it against your soaked core. He finally let up, kissing down your stomach to the hem of your shorts. He bit at the waist band, pulling them down with his teeth as he stared you down. The look in his eyes was enough to make you moan, a heavy lust dancing around in them. Tossing the garment aside, he let go of your hands to slide them down to your thighs, making you press them together. “Shit,” he groaned at the matching panties, the obvious wet spot making him bite his lip. Running his fingertips over the expanse of your thighs, he trailed more kisses to the thin fabric, slowly but surely pulling them off. You let him open your legs and the groan that came out of his mouth was loud, pupils dilating as he ran a finger down your slicked folds. “Fuck- look at this pretty little pussy,” he growled out, “Look at you, absolutely soaked, hm? Did Daddy get you this wet?” 

“Y-yes,” you moaned as he thumbed at your clit, your hips rolling down against his hand. “Yeah? Is this what you were waiting for? Hm? Me touching this gorgeous cunt?” “F-Fuck, yes-”, you managed as you threw your head back a little, his thumb moving faster. He stopped then, unable to hold back any longer as he settled his head in between your legs, breath fanning out across your pussy. He immediately placed a flat lick over your folds, and the whine that left your mouth only motivated him more. Wrapping his lips around your clit, he sucked on it, making one of your legs lift and your toes curl. He hooked his arms around both of them, putting them over his shoulders as he ate you out with more fervor. “You taste so fucking good, fuck”, he groaned, dipping his tongue into your entrance, lapping up your arousal.

“Sa-Satoru! God, fuck!,” you moaned loudly as his tongue assaulted your clit, the iron grip he had on your legs leaving you to just lay there and take it. A hand pulled at his hair, the other digging its nails into your discarded shorts next to you. You were panting, back arched and eyes shut tightly. His eyes didn’t leave your face, obsessed with the way you moaned and cried out from what he was doing to you. He slipped his tongue inside of you, moving it in and out as his hands kneaded your thighs. He felt your legs tremble and it made him chuckle. “So cute,” he groaned, “Does my cute cock slut want more? Hm, love? Does this greedy little pussy want my fingers too?” All you could do was nod, and he happily obliged, pressing in a single finger. Moving it in and out, he flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud, the two drastically different in speed. His digit moved with slow purpose, tongue rapidly working you up. “Look at you, falling apart under me- such a good fucking girl. You can’t get enough, can you, love?” No words could make it out of your parted lips, too busy moaning and whining as your lover fingered you, mouth unrelenting against your clit. When he curled it up, the resounding sound made him growl loudly. He bit his lip hard, watching as a wave of pure pleasure rolled through you. “Did Daddy find something? Hm? Is that my whore’s favorite spot? You’re weak here, aren’t you?” You moaned with a frantic nod of your head, rolling your hips down. “Do you want more, baby? Hm?”, he breathed, fighting to stay patient as his cock throbbed in his pants. “Adorable, you can’t even speak, can you? Something got your tongue, baby?”, he asked teasingly, slowly pressing another digit in. Your body practically begged for it, the single finger feeling like nothing but a tease.

Your back arched, lips perpetually open while he worked you open. He licked around your entrance with his tongue, still keeping your legs still as much as he could while your body trembled and shook from the pleasure. He slowly began to speed his digits up, sucking on your clit harder. Your orgasm was speeding toward you like a bullet train, the man’s hot tongue and long fingers bringing you to heights of pleasure you’ve never experienced. The faster he got, the higher pitched your moans became. “Oh, you’re close, aren’t you?,”  he asked even though he could feel it- feel the way you clenched down on his fingers and see the way your chest rose up and down erratically. “Are you going to cum? Huh? Gonna cum all over Daddy’s tongue and fingers? Go ahead, baby, cum for me, give it to me, love,” he panted himself, his self control getting less and less stable the more he watched you moan and writhe. Your brows were furrowed, sweat prickling along your hairline as you pulled his hair harder while he rapidly worked you up to your orgasm. Within seconds you were convulsing, moaning out broken English while Gojo groaned, lapping up the cum around his fingers while he helped you ride it out. “Fuck, that’s right, that’s my good girl- keep cumming, love. Moan my fucking name just like that”, he moaned, pulling his fingers out to replace them with his tongue. Your legs trembled hard, your world shutting down for a few seconds as you rode the wave of ecstasy. 

He was still lapping at your folds by the time you came down, and you whined loudly from overstimulation, your legs closing around his head. You gently tried to push his head away and he relented reluctantly, licking his lips as he stared down at you. No more than five seconds passed before he was kissing you again, impatient at this point. “Do you still want me? Still want my dick in this tight little pussy?”, he asked against your lips, rolling his fabric covered dick against your core. “Y-Yes”, you barely answered, nodding. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. He kissed you again before quickly sitting up to peel his shirt off, abs on full display for your eyes to take in. He took off his pants and boxers, hissing at the cool air hitting his shaft as it bounced up to slap against his skin. Precum coated his tip, rock hard from watching your body submit to him. He gripped his base, groaning as he fought to gain his composure. The sight of his dick made you whimper loudly, and you suddenly wanted, no, needed, to feel the weight of it in your mouth, needed to taste him and hear him moan, needed to make him feel the pleasure he gave you with his mouth.

Instead of voicing your desires, though, you sat up,  reaching down to stroke it yourself when he moved his hand. “Shit!”, he groaned, brows furrowing as his hips jerked. You pushed his chest back with your hand, guiding him to sit instead of hover over you. “Greedy, aren’t we?”, he groaned, relenting under your soft touch. He could tell you were determined, could see it in your eyes as you finally got him to sit and you sat, kneeling between his legs. His reassurance came in the form of a hand running through your hair, guiding your face up to his so he could kiss you gently. When you pulled back, you leaned down again, hand stroking him slowly, mimicking the hand movements you saw just moments prior. You then gave his tip a lick, making him moan softly. “Fuck,” he breathed, looking down at you, a hand still in your hair, stroking it gently. “Again, baby, lick the tip again for me,” he requested, and you obliged. His groan made your thighs press together. “Fuck, good girl,” he praised, biting back another moan as you stroked the base. When you wrapped your lips around the tip, his eyes fluttered closed, groaning as you swirled your tongue around it. He couldn’t stop his hips from jerking up as you moved your other hand to his thigh to steady yourself, his head lulling backward. You slowly got used to the feel, and after a few seconds you allowed him to guide your head down. Moaning at the thickness of his length, you slowly bobbed your head, your own eyes closed as you felt him throb against your tongue. “Just like that, sweetheart, don’t stop- fuck,” he moaned, taking in only half of his dick into your mouth. You licked him from base to tip, tracing a thick vein before taking him into your mouth again. “God, your mouth feels so good, baby,” he moaned. You slowly started to take in more and more of him, fighting not to choke on it. His hand in your hair was still gentle, not forcing you to take more than you could handle. 

So when you suddenly pushed your head down to take in all of him, and coughed a little, he was surprised, moaning loudly while his grip tightened in your hair.. You bobbed your head a bit faster then, taking him all the way in with each descent of your head. Gojo’s hand matched your pace, letting out a low, guttural groan each time his tip hit the back of your throat. His sounds only made you more eager, wanting to pull more and more out of him, your folds getting impossibly wetter. You let him move your head faster, moaning around him when he let out a loud curse at you deep throating him. “Shit!,” he growled, biting his lip as he watched you sputter and choke before lifting back up and doing it again. Whimpering, you opened your watery eyes, looking up at him while you sucked his dick. “Fucking h-hell, oh god, fuck yes, choke on it,” he moaned as you sunk back down. “Like this? Yeah? Like choking on my dick?” You moaned in response, deep throating him again. You started to stroke his base again, and he rolled his hips up before gently but quickly pulling you back. “As much as I want to cum- I don’t want to do it in your mouth,” he breathed, making you whimper as he laid you down again. 

He loomed over you, hands roaming all over your body, pinching your nipples as his mouth kissed and licked at previous marks he made. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned against your ear. “You’re all for me, aren’t you? Aren’t you, baby?” “Y-yes,Toru,” you nodded weakly. “Say it, baby. Daddy wants to hear you say it.” He kissed at your neck as he moved a hand to grip one of your ass cheeks, kneading it with a soft hum. “I-I’m yours, T-”, you were cut off then, a gasp breaking your sentence up by Gojo’s cock slowly pressing into you without warning, making sure to take his time at first. He groaned against your ear, eyes shutting tightly. He was glad you couldn’t see his eyes after they opened again, the blue in them becoming crystalline  as he fought his primal instinct to fuck you into oblivion. “Sat-Satoru-,” you breathed, your voice quivering much like your pussy as he sheathed himself inside of you. “I know, I know, baby,” he growled softly, nibbling at your ear. He didn’t want to bite you more than right here at this moment, his instincts screaming to finally claim you. “You can take it, can’t you? Be a good girl for me.” The both of you took a second to compose yourselves, moreso him than you. When you finally felt him start to relax a little, you rolled your hips with a moan, hearing him hiss above you. He took that as a sign, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. The feeling of your pussy wrapping around him made him moan, his hands balled into half-fists against the tent floor. You moaned against his ear, wrapping your arms around his neck for leverage and pulling him further down. 

His pace was languid, his thick length moving in and out of you in a torturous yet intoxicating way. All you could do was pant and moan every time he slid back in, your folds covering his dick in your arousal. “So fucking tight,” he moaned breathily, his chest rubbing against yours with each thrust. You could hear nothing besides your own heart beating and your panting as well as Gojo’s, the world not existing outside of the tent you and him currently resided in. Soon, the both of you craved more, and by the way you squirmed, he could tell. The resounding chuckle against your ear made you whine. “More?” “M-More- harder-”, you echoed desperately. “Such a needy bitch,” he groaned despite his own want for more, thrusting faster. Your moans grew a bit louder as he put more force into his movements, one of his hands moving down to grip your leg. He lifted it up, your knee at his hip level. The slight change in position made you gasp, your back arching and your head going back. Your moans of his name were broken, much like your praises of how good it felt as your boyfriend grinded inside of you. “Yeah? Is it good, love? Hm? Does my slut like Daddy’s cock?”, he panted, still fighting with his instincts while he thrusted at the steady pace. Your toes curled, nails starting to dig into his shoulder blades. The sting of your nails only heightened his pleasure, his hips jerking as he groaned loudly. He took your sloppy nod as an answer although he wasn’t looking to get one. “That’s right- fuck, harder. Scratch harder,” he moaned, starting to fuck you deeper. 

You couldn’t ignore the request if you wanted to, the deeper angle making your already potent pleasure skyrocket. You tucked your face in the crook of his neck, moaning loudly and panting as he continued to thrust into you. “F-ugh-ah! Daddy!” “Louder, baby, scream for me- I wanna hear you get even louder,” he growled as you yelped at a particularly hard thrust. You dragged your nails up his back, a hand tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. “Such a good girl, taking Daddy in so well, aren’t you?” “Y-Yes! Yes, Da-ah!-Dadd-y!” You could barely form words any longer, too enraptured by the feeling of his length pistoning in and out of your pussy taking away any ability to think about anything else. “You like this thick dick stretching out your greedy pussy, don’t you? So needy for me, you can barely talk-,” he groaned, lifting your leg higher. “You sound so fucking pathetic for me, moaning and whimpering my name while you lay here and take it.” 

“Fa-Fast-”, you gasped out, and he was already ahead of you, picking up the pace. He finally got to reign in his primal nature, pulling back to watch you moan and yelp under him.The sight made his cock twitch inside of you, watching as you didn’t know where to go or what to hold onto. “So fucking adorable, you don’t even know what to do with yourself, do,” thrust, “you?”, thrust. Small yelps escaped your mouth after each one, and he couldn’t help but to grab your chin, kissing you passionately while he continued to rock his hips back and forth. He swallowed down all your sounds, moaning against your lips while your scratches got rougher and rougher. He suddenly changed his angle then, and when you nearly screamed, he growled, the sound making a shiver go down your spine at the roughness of it. “There it is,” he breathed, focusing his efforts on hitting your g-spot. “Satoru! Fu-ugh!-Fuck!”  The tip of his length hit your bundle of nerves without mercy, leaving you a moaning mess under him. He reveled in it. “This is my pussy, isn’t it? I’m the only one who can make you feel like this,” he declared both for you and himself. “You’re mine, bitch- all fucking mine.” He bit his lip, glad your eyes were closed as his fangs extended slightly. He was fighting a war within himself, knowing if he bit you now, the timing would be all wrong. Making them shrink again, he distracted himself with another position change. He grabbed your hips, pulling you up and sitting. He kept the same fast pace, bouncing you up and down on his length. The way your tits bounced prompted him to grab one, sticking a nipple in his mouth as your grip around his neck got tighter. You weakly tried to match his rhythm, bouncing on top of him while his hips drove up into you. When he pulled back from sucking on your sensitive nipples, you tucked your face in his neck, biting down hard. His loud moan made your hips falter, your body trembling as it tried to cope with all of the pleasure you were experiencing. 

He felt your trembling get increasingly worse, your quivering moans even reflecting how close you were getting. His hands stayed locked onto your hips, his own orgasm getting closer and closer the more he moved you up and down. “F-Fuck, this little cunt is squeezing my cock so well- harder, baby, clench down harder for Daddy-” Moaning against his neck, you clenched down harder, thighs tensing even more as he moved his hands to your ass, squeezing it hard. “My whore is close, isn’t she? I can feel it- your little cunt quivering for release,” he panted, the sound of you bouncing up and down only adding to both of your states of arousal. “You’ll be good, won’t you?”, he asked, your moans getting higher, and higher. “You’ll make Daddy proud and cum on his dick, won’t you?” In the midst of your rise you barely got out a nod, nearly screaming against his neck. You pulled back, feeling like your breath had been stolen away from you. He was knocking the air out of you with each pull down of your hips. “G-ah!-God, y-yes! Yes, ple-ase! Gonn-ah cum!”, you yelped and he groaned loudly. “F-Fuck, cum,” he moaned against your ear, “Cum, baby, be my good girl and cum all over my fucking cock-” Your vision went blurry before you could even register your orgasm crashing down on you, screaming his name and other garbled curses. He grabbed your chin to kiss you, both to quiet you and to stop himself from biting your neck. He moaned into your mouth, feeling you clench down impossibly hard on his dick, your hips jerking erratically. He kept thrusting into you, his own hips starting to falter from how close he was. “Fu-ck, you’re gonna make Daddy cum- God, you’re gonna make me cum,” he warned, his own toes curling. “P-Pill-”, you hiccuped, and he instantly knew what you meant, letting himself let go inside of you. The sensation left you reeling, his cum filling you up and hitting your already wrecked g-spot. It only prolonged your orgasm, your boyfriend kissing you passionately as you both rode it out. “Fuck, I love you so much,” he breathed, “Love you so fucking much, baby-” “L-Love you m-more, Toru-”, you whimpered. 

The both of you rode out your intense pleasure slowly, Gojo taking the time to kiss at your hot skin, hands rubbing your body gently while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. “You did so well, my love. You’re absolutely stunning. Love you so much,” he murmured, carefully lifting you so he could pull out of your spent pussy. A soft wince left your mouth but you otherwise relaxed, your eyes fluttering closed as the both of you laid down on top of the askew sleeping bags. Instead he just used the blanket he brought, pulling you close and covering the two of you up to take a well deserved nap. He cupped your face, moving your hair out of your face. Your eyes opened a bit and he smiled softly. “Sleep,” he chuckled, “I know you’re tuckered out.” You cuddled closer, laying your head under his chin and putting an arm over him. “Love you, baby,” he murmured. “Mm, love you too,” you said quietly, dozing off quickly as he played in your hair. He didn’t fall asleep until you did, both of you tangled up under the soft blanket.

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

hope you guys like this one -leyley <3

[moni-logues]

Namjoon fic prompt: 🚿🧼

Not sure to what extent this fulfils the brief, but I had a LOT of fun writing this one!!!!!!!!! Thank you anon!!! this is unbeta'd and kind of unedited. PEACE.

Sexts and Showers

Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader

Genre: pwp/smut, secretly dating

Summary: Namjoon accidentally sends a photo meant for you to your roommate, who does not know that the two of you have been sleeping together. First you deal with one problem (sex with Namjoon), then you deal with the other (telling all your friends about it)

Word count: 2.8k

Content: shower sex! Namjoon and reader haven't told their friends they've been fucking!, sexting, a dick pic, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex

* * *

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god,” Yeji repeated over and over as she barged into your room and sat herself on your bed. “Why is Namjoon texting me this?!” 

She thrust her phone into your face and the colour immediately drained from it. 

Namjoon: I think I'm going to need a cold shower... unless you want to join me... 

Ok, you thought, could be worse. There was maybe some wiggle-room left for some kind of plausible deniability. 

Unfortunately, the text was only part of it. It was accompanied by a photo that left almost nothing to the imagination. He wasn’t fully naked, but as near as dammit. You could’ve seen his erection from space.  

You spluttered, choked, didn’t know what to say. And then another message came through. 

Namjoon: OH FUCK 

And in a second, both previous bubbles disappeared, replaced by ‘This message was deleted’. 

Namjoon: I know you saw that... I can see you read them... 

Namjoon: I’m SO sorry 

Namjoon: Obviously they weren’t meant for you, Yeji 

Namjoon: PLEASE forget you ever saw them 

Namjoon: PLEASE 

Namjoon: PLEASE PLEASE 

Namjoon: I’m so so so so sorry 

“Wow,” is all you could choke out.  

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Yeji screamed, so close to you that you thought your eardrum might burst. “WHO IS HE SEXTING?!” 

The answer was you. Or rather, he was supposed to be sexting you and not Yeji. He had been sexting you recently. Doing a lot more than that, too. You just hadn’t told anyone yet.  

It was an accident, really. Neither of you meant it to happen. It just did. There was nothing ground-breaking about it. Same old story: you drink too much and get a little handsy with each other because you’ve secretly kind of always liked each other; then you get more than a little handsy and then you do it again and again and, suddenly, it’s A Thing. A thing you decide not to tell everyone else about.  

You sat on your phone to try to hide its buzzing. You didn’t need to check it to know that it was Namjoon. You didn’t know why he was calling; you and Yeji lived together: of course she was going to run straight to you with this. Of course you wouldn’t be able to answer.  

“I don’t know,” you answered Yeji. “It might just be some person from an app.”  

She looked at you sharply. 

“Why are you not also screaming?! Did you not SEE what I saw?! What I showed you?!” 

“I saw it! I saw it! But... I don’t know, he’s a grown man; he can sext who he likes.” 

“Not without telling us! Ugh, the gossip! He’s depriving us! Besides, wow, who knew he was packing like that?”  

You nudged her with a grin. 

“Ahh, let the man have a couple of secrets, eh? What's the harm? He’ll tell us when he wants to. And I think he probably doesn’t want you to know he’s packing like that. Doesn’t want me to know either,” you added hastily. “He would probably prefer that neither of us had seen that. You shouldn’t have shown me that! He’ll be embarrassed. Just let him have his secrets and his privacy, at least for today.” 

“But I want him to tell me NOW! I’m going to reply to him. The interrogation is starting. Maybe I’ll call him.” 

She was already standing and wandering back out of your bedroom.  

“You want to interrogate him with me?” 

“No, thanks; I’ve got some stuff to work on.” 

“Suit yourself. I’ll fill you in later.” 

She shut your door as she left and you whipped out your phone. 

Namjoon: oh god i’ve done something bad 

Namjoon: like really bad 

Namjoon: I was trying to text you—I was supposed to send it to YOU 

Namjoon: I accidentally sent a photo of my dick to Yeji 

Namjoon: she definitely saw it 

Namjoon: I don’t know how I get out of this. What do I say? I can’t tell her it was meant to go to you! 

Namjoon: Help me  

You laughed and pressed dial, hoping Yeji didn’t actually call him herself. 

“Hey.” He sounded a little breathless, his breathing a little heavy down the phone. 

“Yeah, so Yeji just left my bedroom actually. She showed me what you sent.” 

Namjoon groaned. 

“I’m sorry.”  

“You don’t have to be sorry; it was just a mistake.” 

“But how do we get out of it?”  

“I don’t know. I told her it might just be someone on an app; you could go with that. Pretend to have a casual thing-” 

“But then if we come out and say we’re... whatever we are, the timeline won’t work-” 

“Oh, that’s a bridge we can cross when we get to it. We can just say you lied to keep it a secret.”  

“I guess.” 

“Seriously, Namjoon, I think it’ll be fine. Yeji will find something else to obsess about soon enough, by tonight probably.” 

You were trying to convince yourself as much as you were trying to convince him. You were right, Yeji would find something else to be distracted by. It probably wouldn’t erupt all over your friendship group; it probably wouldn’t get out of hand. They probably wouldn’t tease him mercilessly about it until you abruptly shouted up that it was you, thus revealing everything.  

Probably. 

It’d be fine.  

He groaned again. 

“Just such a stupid thing to do. And I’ll tell you this for free: a very effective boner killer, too.” 

You laughed. 

“So you don’t want me to come over and shower with you?” 

“Oh, shit, I didn’t say that. My door is always open to you, you know that.” 

You sighed. 

“I’ve got a lot of work to do tonight so I don’t know if I’ll make it.” 

“Ok.” 

“But keep thinking those thoughts, ok?” 

“Yes, ma’am.”  

“Oh and Namjoon?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Send me the photo, yeah?” 

* 

You didn’t know about Namjoon but you did keep thinking those thoughts. They were driving you to distraction. You had barely read more than a page of your report in the last half-hour. You kept unlocking your phone, looking at your message thread with Namjoon, at that photo. At a certain point, it becomes more efficient to do the distracting thing first and then knuckle down. Get it out of your system so you can concentrate afterwards. That was starting to sound like a very appealing course of action. 

You picked up your phone again.  

You: have you showered yet? 

Namjoon: No, why? 

You: Can I come over? 

Namjoon: Do you even have to ask? 

Namjoon: (that means yes. Please. Please come. Come now) 

You shut your laptop; Yeji was similarly sequestered in her bedroom so you were able to sneak out without rousing any sort of curiosity. Thank god. 

* 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

“So about this shower.” 

The door had barely closed behind you before Namjoon was kissing you, pulling you closer, running his hands up your body.  

“You really want to shower?” he asked. His voice was low and gruff, his words mumbled against your neck. 

You laughed. 

“Transparency: I want you to fuck me in the shower.” 

He responded by nipping at your earlobe.  

“You gonna ask nicely?” 

“No.” 

He gave your nipple a tweak and you jerked against him, your hips knocking into his, drawing a quiet moan from his mouth. He grinned at you and kissed you firmly. 

“That’s my girl.”  

Your clothes littered the floor as they were discarded en-route.  

“Why haven’t we done this already?” Namjoon asked as he hoisted you onto the edge of the counter. “Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this so much.” 

“You’re a shower sex guy, huh? Noted.”  

“For you? I’m an anywhere-sex guy.”  

Your words were taken from you, from your mouth to his as he pressed his lips to yours and licked into your mouth. You were hot already, even before the shower began to fill the room with steam. That was the thing about Namjoon; he made you so impatient. The mere thought of him had your heart racing. A kiss was enough to get you wet. You were feral with need for him. Insatiable. 

When he kissed you, your mind was wiped clean, a blank static fuzz. When he sucked hard bruises into your neck, your chest, you were nothing but animal. No shame, no overthinking, no insecurity, just pleasure buzzing all over your skin, shivering down your spine, coiling in your guts, pooling in your core.  

Namjoon sank to his knees on the hard, tiled floor and kissed your inner thighs. He wrapped his arms around them, pulled you a little closer—you clutched the edge of the counter and his hair for balance—then he licked you, firmly from slit to clit and back again, into every fold and then into your cunt. You weren’t backward about coming forward and, when you had first done this with Namjoon, you had been fully prepared to tell him how to do it, how you liked it. He hadn’t needed the instruction. That first time, he’d had you reeling after a screaming orgasm within a minute.  

You didn’t think you’d last even that long this time. Not with his lips around your clit, his tongue warm and wet against it, the soft pressure as he sucked, the harder pressure as he flicked, the feel of his fingers as he rocked them inside you, insistent and unstoppable. He made a mess of you and, moments later, you made a mess of him, coming over his face, your slick dripping down his hand.  

He pressed sticky kisses onto your stomach, his tongue laved over your stiffened nipples, his lips pressed softly against yours and then harder, his teeth took your bottom lip and he bit down.  

“So about this shower,” he murmured against your lips, his eyes poring over yours.  

You couldn’t speak, could only nod, and he held you steady as you settled your feet back on the floor, your legs still wobbly.  

The room was hot now, the water hotter. As Namjoon crowded you against the shower screen, you felt breathless, a little suffocated but you didn’t know if that was down to the steam or to Namjoon. He ran his hands all over you as you kissed, your bodies pressed tightly together, his flushed, leaking dick trapped between you.  

Whereas Namjoon made you impatient, he seemed to have an unlimited supply of patience. He soaped you up, every inch of you, and you realised how intimate this was; it suddenly wasn’t just sex. He was touching your body with a different kind of care and attention now. Sex was imminent but this moment, this moment wasn’t about sex really. He turned you around, gently, running his hands down your back and over your backside, all the way down to your feet and all the way back up. He pressed a kiss to your soapy shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist. His lips then found the shell of your ear. 

“Baby, you’re fucking beautiful,” he whispered and a spark rushed down your spine.  

You turned and kissed him, trying to say with your body what you couldn’t find the words for. And then, 

“Can you fuck me now?” 

He grinned and turned you back around, his hands squeezing at your glutes, kneading, then pushing you forward a little, smoothing up your back and along your arms, placing your hands flat on the tiled wall, braced. He held you like that, in suspense, in anticipation, his hands here and there, his lips first on your hip, then the back of your neck, his body distant, then pressed close.  

You begged because you had learnt that he liked it. That he liked it when you sounded a little breathless, a little whiny, your voice catching as you asked him, please, please, to fuck you.  

“Namjoon... Namjoon... Please?” 

You dipped your head, pressing your forehead to the wall, your fingers scratching down the tiles as you continued to clench, your soft, wet walls coming together around nothing. Still.  

“Just one more time, baby. Just ask me one more time.” 

“Please fuck me. Namjoon, ple- ah, fuck—hnn-” 

It was familiar now, the pressure of the stretch as he pushed inside you. You swore quietly again as he bottomed out and dragged backwards, slowly, torturously slowly. He kept a hard grip on your hips, keeping you or him steady or both. The steam swirling around you, the clean, fresh scent of Namjoon’s soap, the water hitting your skin, Namjoon’s lips on your neck as he thrust a little harder now, squeezing past your g-spot, making your legs tremble—it was overwhelming. You felt transported. No longer just in the shower in Namjoon’s apartment. No longer was this just sordid nor was it mundane. It was you and Namjoon. A thing that had lain dormant in you, something you hadn’t seen coming until it happened and then you couldn’t believe that it hadn’t happened before. This was what you had been looking for. Yes, him fucking you, yes, the way he kissed you and the way he knew which buttons to press, yes, his dick hot and heavy on your tongue, thick and slightly curved and fucking you just right. Yes, all of that but more, too.  

You had not really talked about where this was going, what you were to each other, but now you knew and your heart grew three sizes.  

Namjoon grunted behind you, his breathing becoming laboured. Your name fell off his lips as though it had always lived there. His fingers found their way forward and onto your clit, rubbing in circles that started slow and got faster and faster as you made your dizzy way to a second orgasm.  

He wasn’t far behind, his thrusts hard and rhythm faltering before he came with a long drawn-out curse. He pulled you backwards, held you tight against his chest and you were grateful for the support, not sure if you could stand.  

“As good as the fantasy?” you asked, panting, your head tipped sideways and up to look at him. 

He kissed you, deep and slow, making your knees weaker, your hands gripping tight at his arms around your waist.  

“Better. Way better.”  

You twisted and wrapped your arms around his neck. He kissed you again, pushed you backwards, your body meeting the wall. He sucked on your bottom lip, nipping lightly with his teeth, then he opened his mouth and you rolled your tongue with his, still able to taste yourself on him. You traded kisses, still under the persistent patter of water, still hot and wet and soft against the unyielding tile. Namjoon murmured your name against your lips.  

“What should I tell Yeji, huh?” 

“You could always tell the truth,” you answered, too dazed to think it through. 

“You want to tell people about us?” 

“I never minded in the first place. You were the-” 

“No,” he said. 

He pulled back and looked at you quizzically. 

“What are you talking about? It was you who suggested keeping it a secret,” he continued. 

“Not at all! It was you!” 

“No, it wasn’t!” 

“Well if it was neither of us, then why are we keeping it a secret?!” 

“I don’t know!”  

You looked at each other, aghast, bewildered. Then you laughed.  

“We’re so stupid.” 

You kissed his shoulder and he returned it on your temple. 

“So should we just tell people now?” 

“What do we tell them?”  

You shrugged.  

“That depends what you want this to be, I guess.” 

“What do you want it to be?” 

“I want to be with you.”  

The sigh of relief that came from Namjoon was so large it was almost comical.  

“Me, too. With you.”  

“So it’s settled then.” 

“Settled.” 

You nodded at each other, once, firmly, and then went back to kissing under the water. 

* 

Later, you sat with Namjoon in his bed, resting between his legs, your back against his chest.  

You: btw, Namjoon meant to send that photo to me 

Yeji: um 

Yeji: WHAT 

You took a photo of the two of you, Namjoon’s topless torso visible, your heads close, your smiles respectively bright and bashful. You sent it to Yeji. 

Yeji: WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

You: yeah it’s kind of a thing 

You: that we’ve been doing 

You: for a little bit  

You: probably going to keep doing it some more, tbh 

When she didn’t reply, you assumed she’d had a heart attack. That, or she was busy letting every single person she’d ever met know about the two of you. If you needed news spreading, she was the one to go to.  

“So now everyone knows,” Namjoon said, nuzzling against your neck, dropping light kisses against your skin. 

“Everyone knows,” you replied, tipping your head slightly to give him better access. “Oh, also,” you said, suddenly remembering, “everyone knows about your big dick, too. There’s no way Yeji kept that back.” 

He laughed, hearty and full.  

“I think I’m ok with that, actually.” 

[krirebr]

I Know I Should Know Better 1

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader, minor Colin Shea x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,873

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Angst, adult themes, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), drinking, sex mention, exhibitionism (from unhappy observer's POV), explicit language, bad boyfriend, self-destructive behavior, anxiety, negative self-talk. The reader's having a bad time, you guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Alright you guys, prepare yourselves for a lot of angst and a sloooow burn. The focus and goal of this story is definitely Curtis x Reader, but as it starts, Colin x Reader is the actual couple. This first part is in Curtis’s pov, but the plan is to alternate povs by chapter.

I hope you love this Curtis as much as I do. If you could let me know what you think with a comment or reblog, I'd appreciate it so much. Thank you for reading, lovelies! 💜

Curtis hated this job. 

The sounds of lewd moans and the repeated banging of a headboard hitting the wall filtered through the bedroom door into the common area of the large hotel suite. The new guy, Jensen, shifted uncomfortably in his chair at the small bar off the kitchenette, his eyes frequently cutting to the bedroom door.

“Just ignore it. It’s none of our business.” Curtis growled from his place at the island.

“Right. Sure,” Jensen nodded and just kept looking towards the room. Curtis rolled his eyes. He’d get used to it. 

The stylist and hair and makeup people were already set up in the 2nd bedroom. They’d been due to start 20 minutes ago. Michelle, your assistant, came careening out of that room and stopped dead in the center of the living room, locking eyes with Curtis. “We don’t have time for this!” she pleaded with him.

Curtis sighed and nodded and walked over to the bedroom. He banged on the door three times with the side of his fist bellowing, “Time to get going!” He really hated this job. 

“What the fuck???” cried a masculine voice from inside, quickly followed by your own uncontrollable giggles. 

Five minutes later, you finally came out dressed in a robe from the hotel, your hair all over the place. A man followed you, dressed only in his boxers. Colin. He’d been around for a few months. He was a rockstar, but in Curtis’s opinion, everyone was using that term loosely. He was in a band that was working on its sophomore album. Curtis only knew this because the guy wouldn't shut up about it. He wasn’t any worse than the other fuck boys you usually dated, but he certainly wasn’t the best of them either. Colin collapsed onto one of the loveseats, legs spread wide, and helped himself to the fresh fruit that was laid out on the coffee table.

“Ok!” you said when you got to the center of the room, hands on your hips, megawatt smile fully on display. It was always so blinding, even when he was annoyed with you, like now. “Where am I needed?”

“Go in there, please!” Michelle pointed. “We’re running so late!”

You just laughed. “Which is why you always build extra time into the schedule. Calm down, we’re fine.”

Curtis walked over to Colin and nudged one of his shoes with his own foot to get his attention. “Get dressed,” he growled. “It’s time for you to go.”

“Oh! He’s coming with us,” you said, just as you disappeared into the room, Michelle right on your heels.

Colin smirked obnoxiously up at him and wiggled his eyebrows. “Yeah,” he said, “I’m coming with you.”

“Fine,” Curtis gritted out. “I assume you’ll be wearing clothes when we leave?”

Colin stood up and slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Curty boy, I’ll get myself all pretty for you” and then went back into the main bedroom.

Curtis ran his hands down his face and stared up at the ceiling as he tried to calm himself. He hated this job. Maybe it was time to get into corporate security. Anything had to be better than this.

As he was thinking, Jensen cleared his throat behind him. “Is it always like this?”

“Yes,” he growled out without turning around, and then went to get an updated ETA from Michelle.

Curtis had been with you for almost two years now. Your team had brought him on during the stalking incident at the MTV Movie Awards. That situation had luckily been resolved quickly, but he'd stayed on after. 

On paper, the job was simple. Keep the house secure. Make sure strangers don't get close enough to touch you. Keep your parents as far away from you as possible. Always know the exits. Easy enough.

And he’d been surprised to find that he actually liked you. Outside of the clubs and parties, the VIP sections and private rooms. When you were easier to imagine as just a normal person. You weren’t as entitled as he’d expected. You worked hard and seemed to want to do a good job, even if you couldn’t keep to a schedule to save your life. Sometimes he felt like the wild streak was just something you put on, an obligation. But that was a ridiculous observation. He just worked for you. He didn’t actually know you.  

So it’d been a good job for a while, but at some point the balance between wild child and committed actress started to shift. And with that, the hours got longer, the entourage got bigger, the parties got wilder. The fuck boys got worse. It was taking its toll on him and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do it.

Curtis was standing in the green room of the talk show, watching your interview on the large TV mounted on one wall. Tanya, your publicist, stood near him, her arms crossed and brow furrowed as she watched, while Michelle sat on the couch, going through emails, and Colin parked himself in front of the food that had been laid out, now on his third beer. 

“She’s stiff,” Tanya remarked to no one in particular.

“Yeah, cause you wouldn’t let her have any of that,” Colin said, gesturing with a piece of meat in his hand to the ice bucket full of alcoholic drinks on the coffee table. Tanya had instituted a strict ‘no substances before interviews’ policy after the last time you’d done Kimmel and the interview had gotten a little too loose.

“She’s doing fine,” Michelle said, without looking up from her computer, but Curtis had to agree with Tanya. You did seem stiff. Uncomfortable. But he knew it had more to do with the current topic than any external factors. They’d dedicated an entire segment to the show you were on as a kid. It’s what made you famous. You never really talked about it. Didn’t seem to like to, but it almost always came up in interviews. Sometimes you laughed through it and it was fine, but other times it was more like what was happening now. He wouldn’t say that he knew or understood you, but he could read you and right now he could see, under your smiles and giggles that would fool anyone who didn’t spend their days watching you, that you were coming apart at the seams. He prepped a text to Jensen, telling him to pull the car around and saved it so all he’d have to do was hit send. Then he just waited for the interminable interview to end, clenching and unclenching his fists as he watched you put all your energy into just getting through it. 

Finally the conversation wrapped up and the host threw to a commercial after announcing the next guest. Curtis sent the text, grabbed a bottle of water from the ice bucket, and was already almost through the door and into the hallway when Colin exclaimed, “What the fuck?! She was supposed to mention my tour!”

Curtis was sure there was some sort of reaction to that, but he wasn’t around to see it because you were already coming around the corner, being led by a PA. You locked eyes with him and as soon as you were close enough for him to hear, you whispered, “Get me the fuck out of here.” He nodded and herded you down the hall, around several corners, until you got to a little enclave under a set of stairs with several plush armchairs. 

“Jensen’s bringing the car around,” he said gently, handing you the water bottle he’d been holding. “We can go out the back way. But I figured you might want a few minutes by yourself first.” You nodded absently, clutching the bottle of water in both hands. “I’ll leave you alone, but I’ll be just over there if–”

“Can you stay?” you interrupted, gazing up at him with pleading eyes.

Surprised, he asked, “You want me to?”

You nodded again and said softly, “Please.”

“Ok. Of course I’ll stay.” 

You just stood there for a moment, gazing down the dark hallway in front of you before you finally said, “I don’t get why they always have to ask about it. It ended over ten years ago. Like, who fucking cares? And the show was shit anyway.”

Curtis just stood and watched you, not sure what you wanted him to say, if anything at all.

“Like, I was a kid. I wasn’t even any good, you know? I’m just so fucking tired of talking about it. I don’t know why anyone wants to talk about it. It’s not like I have any good stories. Nothing good happened.” You seemed to catch yourself there and cut a wary glance to Curtis then shook your head. “I told Tanya that I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. That I wouldn’t answer any more questions. And she said that was ‘unrealistic,’ so here we are.”

 Curtis let the silence carry for a moment, making sure you had nothing else to say, then, softly, "I'm really sorry you have to do that. That isn’t fair to you."

You looked up at him at that, something akin to shock on your face and you shook your head at him. “What? No. No, It’s fine. I’m– I’m being dumb. It’s not that big a deal. I’m just being ridiculous. Like always.”

He really hated it when you did that, wormed your way in and made him feel deep, unrelenting empathy for you. It’d been happening more and more often lately. He needed to get out. “I don’t think you’re being ridiculous.”

You just stared at him for several moments and for the first time in ages, he couldn’t read what was on your face. Finally, you shook yourself out of whatever had been happening and said, “We should really get going, shouldn’t we? Can we go? I’m just making everyone wait, like usual."

His hands itched to reach out to you, touch you, but you didn't need that right now. Maybe not ever. Not from him. So instead he nodded and said, "Yeah, we can go," letting Jensen and Michelle know you were on your way. 

"You're such a fucking asshole!" you yelled in the alley behind a club in West Hollywood, hours later. You were drunk. Very drunk. Curtis really hated this job.

"I didn't do anything!" Colin threw his arms up in exasperation. 

"She was in your fucking lap!"

Curtis was standing by the door for now, hoping he wouldn't have to hold you back. Or, he thought, as he watched you sway dangerously, hold you up. 

“She just sat down. What was I supposed to do? Push her off?”

“You certainly weren’t supposed to put your arms around her!” You were getting really worked up now and Curtis readied himself to intervene. Jensen was supposed to be bringing the car. Where the fuck was he?

“I was being nice to a fan!” Colin shouted when Curtis saw a light out of the corner of his eye at the mouth of the alley. When he turned to look, there was a man standing there with his phone out. Shit.

He walked along the wall of the building, trying not to draw attention to himself. Luckily you and Colin were providing plenty of distraction so he was able to get close and snatch the phone away before the man noticed him there.

“Hey!” he shouted. “That’s my personal property! You can’t do that.”

“Uh huh,” Curtis said as he stopped and permanently deleted the current video and went back into the man’s photos to check for anything else. There were two more videos and a smattering of pictures. He’d gotten the whole fight. You did not need that all over the internet tomorrow. He deleted it all and then handed the phone back to the man who’d been yelling and swearing the whole time. Curtis pulled himself up to his full height and loomed over him, then said, “I better not see you again. You have a good night.” He glared and waited for the man to back down and walk away then headed back to you. You and Colin were still screaming at each other, but the topic seemed to have shifted.

“You’re so fucking selfish, you know that?” Colin yelled at you. “I ask for one thing and you can’t even do that.”

“It was my job! I was there to promote my movie, not your failing tour!”

“You’re a fucking bitch,” Colin said, as Jensen finally pulled up in the SUV. Thank god, because every muscle in Curtis’s body wanted to lay the asshole out flat, and if he’d had to wait one more moment for the car, he might have. 

“Hey!” Curtis yelled. “That’s enough!” he said to Colin and then turned to you. “Are you ok?” You nodded, but brushed a tear away. Fucking asshole. Keeping his eyes on you he asked, “We’re going now. Is he coming with us?”

“No!” you snarled. “Definitely not.” He nodded and opened the back door of the car.

“You’re just going to leave me here?” Colin pouted. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t care!” You yelled over your shoulder as you got in the car. “Get a goddamn Uber!”

Curtis was about to check in with you one more time, but you’d already slid to the other side of the car and were now staring out the window, so he shut the door and got into the front seat with Jensen. 

You were quiet on the hour long drive back to your house. Curtis looked back frequently to make sure you hadn’t passed out, but you were just staring out the window as the city zoomed by. He let you be while he conversed softly with Jensen about the rest of the night and the agenda for tomorrow.

When they got to your house and Curtis opened the car door for you, you looked up at him, surprised. “Hey,” he said quietly, “we’re here.” 

You didn’t really respond, just kept looking at him for a few minutes. Then your gaze shifted to your back door and your lip quivered. “You’re coming in, right?”

He stifled a sigh. He was really hoping he’d be able to get away with just dropping you off tonight, maybe doing a quick walk-through to convince you all was well and then finally taking off. It’d been such a long day. But instead, he nodded. “Yeah, I’m coming in.”

Jensen poked his head out the driver’s side window as Curtis helped you out. “Do you want me to wait?” he asked.

Curtis shook his head. “No, it’s late. You go ahead and put the car away and take off. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jensen nodded and gave him a quick wave. 

Curtis guided you inside and turned on the lights. He checked your security panel to make sure everything was as it should be and then guided you to the kitchen. “You want something to eat?” he asked and you nodded. He wasn’t used to you being this quiet and it was throwing him off.

He went to the fridge and pulled out one of the dinners your housekeeper had left for you. He threw it in your microwave and then grabbed you a glass of water.

“I’m so tired,” you said.

“I know,” he said, “you can eat this and then go right to bed.”

“No,” you shook your head, “that’s not–” You frowned but didn’t say anything else, just placidly looked around yourself.

The microwave beeped and he took your food out, putting the dish and a fork in front of you.

Staring into your living room, you said, “I kind of hate this house.”

He had no idea what to say to that. He looked through your open plan first floor. Everything was gray and glass. Fresh flowers on multiple surfaces made it seem slightly less empty, but he’d always thought it felt cold. Cavernous. “You could move.”

You just hummed and turned to your food. You ate a few bites and drank some water. Just as he was gearing up to tell you goodnight and get out of there, you looked him dead in the eye and said “I think you might be the only person who actually cares what I want.”

The shock that flooded his system must have registered on his face, because you immediately started backpedaling. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so out of it. Just ignore me. I’m fine. Just ignore me.” He whispered your name and you shook your head. “No, you’re right. I should go to bed. I’m sorry. Goodnight Curtis.” And with that you got up and went upstairs to your bedroom, leaving him dumbfounded, standing alone in the middle of your kitchen. 

After a few minutes he pulled himself together, put your leftovers in the fridge and your glass in the dishwasher. He turned off all the lights and let himself out.   

He paused on your step and leaned his head against your door.

He really fucking hated this job.

But he knew he’d never be able to quit.

Part Two

[laiosynth]

transfem kuai liang headcanon

hi. as a precursor to this whole post, i'm going to give the forwarning that i am absolutely batshit insane about this. if one could call an avid fan of something 'down the rabbit hole', then i am in the core of the fucking planet of this. i am thinking about her at all hours of the day. i have a several thousand WC braindump doc that i still need to elaborate on. with that said, if you're willing to give a look-see, jump down the rabbit hole with me as i give you the rundown.

i have many, many, many words about her. many of them. but i'll try to summarize my reasoning for this particular headcanon because it's actually much much deeper than the initial vibes.

THE DEEPER REASONING

kuai as a character seems really closed-off and disconnected. especially when we first meet him. he's duty first, no-nonsense. he's quiet. and then we get to know him more, and to know bi-han more, and there's this... sense of unease, somewhat? like bi-han, we can see that he is standing on firm foundations of his ideals. we know what he wants. we know who he is. he stays true to these ideals, even by betraying his brothers to join the side of shang tsung and quan chi. he is a character who knows what he wants and we can predict his actions based on it. on the other hand, in contrast, kuai liang seems almost... unstable, in a sense, and adrift. we only really get to know the fact that he valued his father's teachings. and bi-hans betrayal seems to throw him even more adrift.

and being adrift and unstable on his foundations is a trait i see VERY often in my own experience and in the experience of my transfem friends (and here we hit my biggest point on why i headcanon kuai liang as transfem-- the sheer number of parallels between his story and trans experiences).

when bi-han betrays the lin kuei, and in turn, kuai and smoke, kuai has no issues taking down SEVERAL fighters along with general shao-- and you can sense the rage that fuels it (yet another parallel with trans experience). that feeling of 'i put faith in you, i trusted you,', and in this case, 'i followed you, i am who i am because of you, i changed myself for you, and you repay me with this?'

it's unbelievable pain and anger and betrayal, and though he eventually calms enough that he goes back to his quiet, calculative self, it's earth-shaking. this parallels a lot of the feeling, in the trans experience, of the betrayal you feel when your loved ones, the ones you trusted, you changed yourself for, turn to transphobia and terf rhetoric. turn to the beliefs you know hurt people (earthrealm, or your trans friends) and hurt you, and make you their new target.

i'm sad we don't get much focus on kuai liang after that chapter of the story-- i'd pay good money to get an expansion of his story. we know at the very least that he goes on with smoke to form the shirai ryu, and train the young hanzo hasashi, but that tells us nothing, so i don't have a lot to work with. but that gives a lot of wiggle room when making guesses at his character.

reviewing what we know, i reiterate that parallels make kuai liang's character incredibly readable as trans-coded. and i will say now that i know nothing about him screams 'fem!', but i see his character as transfem because of other things-- once again, parallels. kuai liang, as a character, is very clearly honor-driven. he values, above all, his family. his lost father, his bonds with his brothers. his clan. and on top of that, none of his character reads... as 'man' to me. kuai just doesn't read as someone who identifies with a man to me. by that, i mean that he does not seem... comfortable or confident in his masculinity. and that disconnect, once again, is a DIRECT parallel to trans experiences.

THE FUN STUFF

ok now that i've gotten that out of my system i can tell you about the more fun headcanons i have around her heheh

uses she/he pronouns

smoke gave her a golden scorpion-shaped hair claw and she uses it ALL THE TIME.

she likes to wear eyeliner in everyday life and do fancy eyeliner for battle

he and smoke have bonding time while smoke braids her hair. she very frequently falls asleep during braiding time.

smoke is also her biggest supporter, but hanzo is very frequently fighting for the title.

i will be adding more as i think about it. this is all for today. i hope you enjoyed this post. ok byeeeee

[ladyloveandjustice]

Spring 2024 Anime Overview: Girls Band Cry and Jellyfish Can't Swim in the Night

Girls Band Cry

GBC was definitely my favorite new show of the season…and, for some reason, it wasn’t picked up for streaming. It’s one of the many Girl Band Stories that came out this season, but it was the best one. The characters were messy in a way I loved, especially the main character Nina, who’s a complete disaster, angry and loud and sometimes annoying, but so completely real to my experience as a teenage girl who was bullied.

Nina was bullied badly in school, and she’s a high school dropout as a result. Her favorite band helped her get through everything and stand her ground, “saved” her when she was on the verge of giving up on life completely. So when she sees that her fave singer Momoka ended up leaving her band Diamond Dust after the band went in a more commercial direction, the two of them decide to start their own band. Nina is ready to get back at all the people who looked down at them, but Momoka has more complicated feelings about her former bandmates.

Nina being powered by spite—and the series valuing that stubbornness and anger—is what made the series stand out for me, especially because the series just let her be extremely obnoxious sometimes without worrying about her “likeability”,--it made her feel ‘real’ and kind of refreshing. This is a series that starts out with girls going around flipping off people multiple times. The dynamic of the whole band, despite them constantly butting heads, is entertaining. All the characters have rough edges and broken pieces, but they end up fitting together.

The dialogue is fun, the music rocks, the CGI animation is actually super good and expressive. The fact the girls they chose are new to voice acting actually led to some offbeat performances I really liked—the fact it wasn’t as polished as other voice acting fit the characters and honestly made them feel a little more authentic.

The pacing does drag a tiny in the middle, but the climax is explosive and exhilarating. It’s also kind of gay, but in the form of a love confession that’s never really followed up on, (probably so they can have wiggle room to be like ‘how ambiguous was it platonic or romantic maybe she meant she loves ~her music~’) so I don’t count that. But at least it’s the confession isn't completely forgotten about in favor of putting the girls with "appropriate" male love interests (coughs in Sound Euphonium) because the only man on the show of any significance is Nina’s father.

Wholeheartedly recommend the show though, I love these charming disaster girls playing rock songs that slap, finding socially acceptable ways to flip people off, and kicking doors so hard they break them.

Jellyfish Can’t Swim in the Night

Speaking of gay girl band stuff where romantic tension is never followed up on! I binged Jellyfish while I was sick so I guess it counts for this review. It wasn’t nearly as strong as Girls Band Cry but it had stuff going for it!

The premise of this girl band show is that Kano, a former idol who left her career behind after a scandal where she punched another member of her group, runs into Mahiru, a former artist who stopped drawing after a disheartening experience with a jellyfish mural she created. But it turns out Kano loved that mural, and she wants Mahiru to be official artist for her anonymous internet musician persona, JELEE. JELEE picks up other members along the way, including hikikomori VTuber Kiui/Nox Ryugasaki and fangirl pianist Kimura.

Jellyfish had a lot going for it. It wanted to explore the competitive idol industry ruining girls’ lives, abusive parents pressuring their children into becoming extensions of themselves, the budding romance between Kano and Mahiru, the struggle of being trans in a society that forces one into a rigid role and objectifies those it perceives as women, and struggles of remaining creative when often faced with negative feedback.

And uh.... It pretty much fumbled everything but the last two. Granted, it's a soft fumble. A gentle fumble. I can't be too mad about it.

Let's start with the plotline I think it nailed though: Kiui/Ryugasaki (they seem to still use their original name even at the end but also use another name, so that’s what I’m going with) is great, and pretty much the main reason I’d recommend the show.

They’re as blatantly nonbinary as can be without actually saying the word (genderfluid or bigender is also a possibility. But very blatantly trans, either way). They’re also very fun with their over-the-top superhero fantasies. And the storyline where they use their VTuber persona to be comfortable with themself and present themself in the way they want is super compelling and interesting. There are a lot of really moving moments with them, including them shutting down some transphobic bullies (and I mean blantantly transphobic). And we get to see one of their friends enthusiastically support them.

On the other end of the spectrum, the idol and abusive parents subplots were pretty badly handled—we had the usual plot where said parent doing one act of kindness redeems them and things never have to get messy, and the idol plot seemed like it was going somewhere in critiquing how the industry fosters competitiveness and comes down way too hard on its idols for minor misdemeanors or things that shouldn’t be an issue at all, like dating. But then it just kind of ended with a “well internet harassment and destroying lives is bad, but like, we’re all troubled, aren’t we. don't we all vent sometimes." (???)

The plot between Kano and Mahiru…basically there was cheek kissing, blushing, very blatant flirting...and then a big nothingburger of a finale. But hey, Kano does have a gay pride and trans pride patches on her bag, so there’s that.

There's also one absolutely bizarre moment I have to warn about. In one of the episodes the girls run into an adult woman who's had a lot of plastic surgery done. Said adult woman invites the girls to touch her naked boobs (on the pretense of showing them was augmented boobs feel like? Or something?). And they do. As a group. As the woman thinks "they're high school girls, I hope this isn't illegal." IT IS, LADY. VERY ILLEGAL.

It's so out of nowhere that I originally forgot about it writing this, like my brain blacked it out. And then we (thankfully) never see this woman again outside a two second cameo in the finale. Unclear why any of this needed to happen.

So yes, this is basically the Jellyfish experience. The writing of the show was often uneven, it could be really good one second, and rushed and forced the next second. And there are a couple of absolutely baffling moments,

But I'd say on the whole the show is a positive, mostly thanks to Kiui/ Ryugasaki. When it hits, it REALLY hits and the characters are all very loveable. So I give it a reccomendation with a few warnings attached!