#and told him 'you probably will see this tomorrow'

[catsoupki]

i think that when bakugou confessed to you in UA, there were two possibilities. that’s it. he either confessed by pure accident, that could’ve been resulted by so many different reasons but i think the most probable would be denki getting bakugou drunk without his knowledge and suddenly all this tipsiness got to him—

syllables and fricatives slur out of his lips as he stretches like a cat across your lap— your best friend is flushed with alcohol while denki laughs his ass off, you’re put into a really awkward position. you try to lift him up, but a relaxed jumble of limbs is harder to manoeuvre, let alone the fact that they belong to a hero in training with 80 kg of mostly lean muscle mass.

“come on, katsu, come on, let’s go and get you in bed” grunts trace your breath along with pleads that go in one ear and out the other.

“nghh, no” some semblance of consciousness seems to have come as he drags you back down to the sofa, muffling your midriff with his body.

mina, eijirou and sero are all laughing at your pathetic attempts of dragging bakugou to bed but you have yet to give up.

“you need to sleep come onnn” you think that you’ll try one last time before surrendering him and yourself to this predicament until tomorrow morning.

bakugou is reluctant when you try to drag him upwards, instead he takes his hand and knocks on your chest like a door— “i like you, hey, listen,” for a brief second, you thought that your ears had fooled you and that his muffles weren’t really what you heard. but judging based on the rest of their reactions, it seems to be true, suddenly your palms are sweatier, your nape feels warm and you’re all too aware of the places at which he’s touching you now.

“mff.. i’ll go if you kiss me”

right now is the most awake you’ve been since midnight. chills shoot through your body at the image that was involuntarily concocted in your head, flushed, your body gives out and flops down from the couch into the floor with bakugou’s face burrowed into your neck. the warm, periodic soft breaths tell you he’s close to falling asleep.

“fine, fine, come on katsu”

then there’s the other way. by pure frustration or anger. your obliviousness has surely shattered his entire world when the hints mina told him that would definitely get you to know seemed to have failed in every sense of the world—

it was a tuesday, after lunch period, class 1A had been called to the grounds for a physical training session. sparrings had been going on for the past hour and everyone is beyond exhausted. bakugou is sitting next to you on the benches, heaving and downing a bottle of water like nothing. you two have just finished your round, turning the leaderboard to 11-9 with him in the lead.

when you look over you see the way his eyes dart around the current battle (between izuku and shouto), they’re glossed over— pulled in by the sheer weight of their movements. you know that in the depths of his mind, he’s analysing every step or twist of their bodies, exactly as if he’s right in the battle himself— this is what makes him so good: he’s working even when he’s resting.

chuckles leave your breath and they snap him out of his daze, “hah what you looking at, nerd?” he says without much bite, a grin that’s victorious and smug, “you!” despite just stating the obvious, you puff your cheeks out, proud that your remark had rendered bakugou temporarily speechless.

“tsk, you have no idea what you do to me, do you..” yes, although the grounds currently are shooting around with kicks that land with vigour, blasts that explode in people’s faces, somehow, you heard the whisper that was not meant for you.

“what do you mean kats?” tilting your head, you continue downing water whilst looking at him expectantly. suddenly, his face flashes red and the knuckles that wrap around his flask turn snow white.

“nothin’, forget it,” he brushes you off, engrossed in the match once again.

“aww kats, what are you hiding from me?”

“i said nothing, god damn it!” so adamant.

“you sure? it sounds like something.” you insist, teasing in your tone as you accompany bakugou to the bottle refill station.

“oh my days y/n how oblivious are you? even shouto figured it out last month, i’ve liked you since first year, you happy now?” he looks at you, and you really, really look at him. he’s flaring, frustrated, somewhat.

“i— what?”

[fartcushion]

Farter Christmas

Santa sat by the fire in his favourite chair, about to start the second check of the Naughty or Nice list. A formality really, as mistakes were rare and with all the boys and girls being extra good for Christmas, the chance of slipping from Nice to Naughty was extremely low.

As he scrolled through it, he reached a particularly troubling duo. The twins; Bryan and Ryan Miller.

Bryan was the perfect little angel, all year round. His brother, Ryan, on the other hand was a terror. He made it his mission in life to be his brother's biggest bully. He would break his toys, steal his sweets and other acts of cruelty. He was particularly gross in his torture, one of his favourite acts was to take every opportunity to fart on him, especially if he could time it to be in Bryan's face.

Santa tutted, shaking his head. It appeared this year had been no different in the Miller household. Years of giving Bryan what he asked for in his letter, and leaving Ryan only coal had done nothing to teach the lesson. That good girls and boys get presents, and naughty children do not. It was as if for Ryan there was no greater gift than getting to bully his brother.

The boys stopped believing in Santa quite early; Ryan probably never truly believing and willing to assign the coal to his neglectful parents, their pathetic effort to try and change him. Bryan had believed, but as the abuse grew the magic of Christmas lost it's spark. Soon Santa had no power there anymore. Frustrated by his time honoured traditions limiting his influence, he kept an eye on the pair.

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

Years passed and nothing changed as they became adults. Bryan remained good at heart despite the abuse, which only escalated as the pair grew older. But it had taken its toll, he was a lonely and timid man. Ryan stayed rotten to the core, becoming more sadistic as his antics went unchecked.

He used the same bullying tactics to get ahead at work, now he was a top manager. He'd even been able to hire a Personal Assistant, of which he gave the honour to Bryan. Since he had struggled to find work due his shyness, he'd been desperate for anything, which Ryan took full advantage of. Getting 40+ hours a week to fart on his brother, and being paid for it.

In the office on Christmas Eve, as the two readied to finish for the holiday, they were unaware how things were finally about the change.

"It's been great having you work for me this past year, feel like you've been a real asset"

Bbbrrrppp

Ryan let out a fart to emphasize the ass in asset.

A sniffing noise could be heard from under Ryan's desk.

"Do you like working for your brother?"

Bbbrrrrppppppp

*sniff* "Yes, I do, sir. Thank you again for the opportunity "

Ryan let out a final toot before standing up from his desk and releasing his brother who began to crawl out. Ryan reached down and pushed Bryan's face into the seat of his chair so he could enjoy the days scent.

"You're welcome. Now don't forget, even though the office is closed from Boxing Day through New Years, I expect you to come in. I've got some reports I'm behind on so I'll need you to do those for me".

"Of course, sir. I'm happy to do that" Bryan muffled in to the cushion.

"Good boy. Right, I'm off. Make sure you have the farts out of that chair before you go. I'll see you tomorrow at mom and dad's. Don't forget to bring my gifts for them".

"I won't, sir". Not lifting his face from the chair, Bryan called after his brother as he was heading for the door. "Erm, sir, I'm sorry to ask. But...I was told earlier this year I'd be getting a Christmas bonus. I haven't heard anything though"

Ryan smirked, unseen by his brother, and walked back to behind the desk where his downtrodden brother was still dutifully sniffing.

"Oh, hadn't you heard?! I'm sorry to say that the bonuses were cancelled this year. Despite all us managers arguing for them to honoured"

"Oh...I see... That's a shame, I really could have used the money. But, I'm sure you did everything you could".

"I really did, I would appreciate your gratitude for my efforts" and with that Ryan turned his ass to his brother. Bryan, taking the hint, leant forward and kissed his ass.

Pppprrrpppp

For the rest of the night Ryan had been laughing and smirking to himself every time he thought of that moment. His pathetic brother, face down in his chair, believing he'd fought for his bonus. Oh he'd fought alright, he argued that his assistant didnt deserve it, that he missed some key targets and so wasn't viable. Ryan was reminiscing fondly on that brilliant ploy of his as he fell asleep.

In the room there arose such a clatter that Ryan awoke with a start. The room was lit as if by dozens of candles, but none could be seen. But in the room there was a large man. Dressed in a luxurious red velvet suit, with white fur trim and gold buttons. On top of his head a hat of the same cloth. Ryan could see him from his bed, but nothing else, as he was unable to move. As he struggled and writhed, the man in the room just let out a chuckle.

"Oh, hohoho, you won't get out of that"

Ryan lifted his head as much as he could and caught sight of large ribbons wrapped around him, mummifying him.

"Little Ryan Miller, all grown up now. You were always a very naughty boy. You made your brother suffer as children and now as adults. I didn't help when you were young, and I have regretted that,l dearly, so I'm here now to right that wrong".

"Fuck you talking about, you crazy weirdo" Ryan screamed. Thrashing in his constraints. "Bryan, is that you? Is this some ridiculous attempt to stand up to me?"

The man stepped closer and Ryan could see it was not his brother in disguise. His white long beard was real. The man was old, though still fresh faced and rosy cheeked, but his eyes gave away his age. Windows to a tired, ancient soul.

"Noo, Ryan. It's me, Santa, and I'm here to teach you a very important lesson".

Santa moved to the side of the bed. "I thought a fitting punishment would be to give you a taste of your own medicine.

Santa stepped up on to the bed, Ryan caught sight of his large shiny black leather boots. As Santa stood over him, Ryan could see the bulk of the man. His gut stretching the coat. He watched as the man turned around, his trousers pulled tight across his large, fat ass, as if threatening to tear.

Ryan desperately struggled against the bindings as Santa lowered himself down. His ass fully engulfing Ryan's face. His cheeks pooled over the side of Ryan's head, on to the pillows.

Muffled cries came from beneath, Santa just wriggled his ass back and forth until the sound stopped. Lifting himself back up off his victim he looked behind him, Ryan had passed out.

The cold air woke Ryan, chilly wind biting at his nose. He opened his eyes, confused by what was happening. Had that been a dream? No it couldn't have been. He was clearly outside, looking up at the night's sky. He couldn't move still and worse now his head seemed to be in a box or something, he could turn slightly, but only enough before hitting the edge of the window he was looking through. His nose and mouth sticking out in to the air. Where the fuck was he, and where was the crazy man who thought he was Santa? Ryan thought.

Not long passed before he heard footsteps. Crunching of boots on snow.

Then the man's face reappeared, looking down at him.

"Oh good, you're awake now. We did quite a few towns while you were out, I was worried you'd miss out on too much of my punishment".

"LET ME OUT YOU PSYCHOPATH!"

"Now, now, Ryan. Name calling is very naughty behaviour. I told you, I'm here to teach you a lesson". He moved out of view for a second, he climbed up causing Ryan's prison to tilt under his weight.

Santa shuffled in to view again, once more his ass in Ryan's field of view.

"I had the elves work on a special sleigh for me. Which you're in now. This hole you're looking through is in the seat. I'm going to take you with me as I deliver presents. Your face is going to be the perfect cushion"

As Ryan started to cry for help, Santa sat down. His wide rear filling the sleigh seat, his cheeks parting to allow Ryan's nose into his crack. The material of his trousers was soft on Ryan's skin. The warmth was a welcome change from the cold air. But the stench was not.

Santa chuckled to himself, his plan finally being enacted. Sometimes you just had to punish the wicked, he'd learned that too late. He set the reindeers off and spoke calmly. His magic allowed Ryan to hear perfectly despite the whistling wind and the large ass covering his face.

"Shall we begin, Ryan. Don't bother answering, I can't hear you. I'm going to go down this special naughty list I made for you. It lists every misdeed you've done. For each one I read out I'm going to fart in your face. You like doing that to other people don't you, do you find it as funny when you're on the receiving end?"

Pffftt

"There's a taster for you".

The airy fart hit Ryan, he couldn't escape it.

"Now, I know what you're thinking. There's no way I can fart enough to cover everything on the list. Well good news, I'm about to be eating a lot of cookies, mince pies and all the other treats boys and girls leave out for me around the world. Oh and don't get me started on what all that milk does to me! Mrs Claus is going to be thrilled this year to not have to put up with all my gas. Now I have my little sniffer here to take it all" Santa wriggled his ass back and forth. The seat was built well; Santa's weight was held off enough that Ryan wouldn't pass out from suffocation, but it meant his nose would still bury deep. Deeper with each wriggle.

"Right, here we go, let's start with this recent one. You stole your brother's Christmas bonus! Oh naughty naughty"

Pppprrrbbbb

Ryan heard his crime read out and the echoing rip of the fart that followed. He was furious. But all he could think about was the odour. It smelt like boiled sprouts.

"That's it, breath it in, my farts are as rotten as your behaviour. I may be magical but my farts still stink, boy. Remember how you cancelled the office Christmas party so you could make up for the losses from your poor performance"

BBBBPPPTTTT

"This is for making Bryan work next week when he isn't being paid, again to cover your ass"

BBBBBBFFFFFTTTTT

Ryan didn't think he could take much more of this. He was desperate for fresh air, all he could smell was the pungent sweaty ass and then a sudden rush of foul stench, that hissed, boomed and ripped from the hole millimetres from his nose.

Suddenly cold air rushed and the darkness was replaced with pale light as Santa stood up to deliver his next present.

"Please" Ryan pleaded. "Please, no more"

"Oh, Ryan, you haven't learned your lesson yet, you just don't want to accept your punishment. Now shush". Magically a bauble gagged his mouth, preventing him saying anything more.

"I don't want you making noise and waking the children", and off Santa went to make the delivery.

Before long Ryan was back under the warmth of his ass. As they were now in a large town the stops were frequent, so he got more air breaks between farts. But Santa had chosen particularly heinous crimes of his to justify particularly bad farts. They started to smell like spoilt milk.

"Remember when you threw you brothers college acceptance letter in the bin and told him they rejected him, all so you didn't lose your punching bag"

Ppppprrrrrrrrbbbbbbbb

'"That time you slept with the girl he liked..

Bbbpptt

In his bed!"

Ppppbbbbfffttt

The night passed on. As Santa read his list he let fart after fart out on Ryan's face. The smell changed with each country's food offering, but it was always vile.

”You sold his puppy and told your parents he let it escape"

Bbbbrrrrbbppp

"In front of all his friends at your birthday party you made him eat cake you'd farted on"

Pppbbtt prrrrbbbb

"The next time he made a friend and invited him over, you stuffed the kids head in the toilet, and he never spoke to Bryan again!"

Pprrrrppp

The ball gag was aching Ryan's jaw. His nose was sore from being crushed up against the hole for so long as Santa had truly mastered wriggling it deep up in there.

His body ached from lying still in the small prison. He thought hard about each and every act Santa read out, trying to find an shred of remorse within himself. Maybe if he could convince Santa he was sorry he'd end this. But it just wasn't there. He was better than everyone. His brother was pathetic. He fucking loved having him as his bitch. Each fart Santa unleashed just made him angrier, and he started plotting what he'd do to Bryan when he was free.

More time passed, a blink of the eye for the world but hours for Santa and Ryan.

At the next and final stop, Santa sighed. Shuffled over he looked down at Ryan through the hole. His face sad.

"Oh Ryan, this isn't working is it. I know. I see you when you're sleeping and I know when you're awake. Do you think I can't tell what you're thinking" he showed Ryan the list he'd been reading off. "Every time you plan revenge on Bryan it appears on the list as a potential. I dont think this is going to work out the way I hoped".

Ryan did his best to try and hide the smug satisfaction he was feeling. At least this the old fat man knew he'd been beat, and would take him home.

"But I can't let you go. I didn't help Bryan before, but I can help him now. You've been a great sniffer for me tonight. I've not smelt any of those farts. Not holding them in means for the first time in decades I'm not feeling all bloated, makes it much easier to get down those chimneys. No, I'm sorry. But if I can't let you go for risk you'll hurt the innocent, you'll have to stay with me. My naughty little fart sniffer. Maybe in time poems will be written, songs sung and books wrote that tell the cautionary tale of what happens to the naughty children if they don't learn to be good before they grow up"

Ryan couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You'll come to the North Pole with me now, I'll use my time magic to freeze you until the next Christmas, and we'll go again. Maybe one day you'll learn the lesson, I guess that's up to you".

With another sigh, Santa slid back over Ryan's face. Covering it one more time. Letting out the odd fart, only this time Santa didn't bother to read from his crime list, it wasn't needed now. He was just here to sniff farts.

Santa stopped projecting his voice to Ryan, leaving him to the rattling of the sleigh and constant echoing of his farts. Taking the reigns he urged on the reindeer.

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!...AND SNIFFER!"

[thetarttfuldickhead]

”Hey, Coach! Wait up!”

Roy purposefully did not wait up, but kept striding down the corridor away from the festivities slowly dying down in the dressing room as the players prepared to head on to whatever celebrations they’d got lined up for the afternoon. Part of Roy still thought that half a day off for Christmas was disturbingly generous, but another part of him – one that had spent quite a lot of time in Dr. Sharon’s office these past few months – had to admit that the mini break seemed to bring a welcome energy boost to everyone, including the player who didn’t actually do Christmas.

He’d almost made it to the exit when Jamie caught up with him, throwing his gaffer a reproachful look as he pushed a stray stand of hair out of his eyes. “Jesus, Roy,” he complained. “Who died and made you the Grinch? Wouldn’t have fucking killed you to stand still for two seconds.”

“My sister’s working, and I promised I’d pick Phoebe up by two.” To be fair, it was only gone half twelve and he wasn’t in a rush, but making Jamie run was its own reward.

“Ah, yeah, yeah, okay.” Jamie nodded, falling into step as Roy pushed the door open and headed out into the windy December day.

When he didn’t immediately follow that up with anything else, Roy gave him an annoyed glare that was almost entirely sincere. “Did you fucking want something?” he asked meaningfully.

Jamie’s eyebrows shot up, as if he’d legitimately forgotten about his errand and was content to just enjoy Roy’s company (a notion that, while no longer quite new, still occasionally hit Roy as a football to the face, leaving him feeling all sorts of strange). ”Oh, right,” Jamie said. “Yeah. Mum and Simon’s come down since I can’t go home ‘cause of the game tomorrow, and Simon’s going to be making enough food for, like, half the team, so… ”

“So what?” Roy demanded, not so much because he didn’t get what Jamie was getting at – he wasn’t that thick – but to buy himself a second to process the whole thing. Also, image.

Jamie shrugged, as always undeterred by Roy’s barking. “I dunno. Maybe you bring Phoebe over to my place. Have dinner with us.” He grinned, clearly enjoying whatever faces Roy was making. “Mummy insisted. Said it’d be rude not to invite me best friend.”

“I’m not your best friend.”

“Yeah, I know, mate. You’re not mine either. But as I said, Mum insisted.” He smiled again, just as widely and wickedly, but for a fleeting moment, there was a trace of uncertainty in his grey eyes. “C’mon. You know Mum and Phoebe will get on like a house on fire.”

Roy could imagine it only too well. Between them and Jamie, he had a feeling he’d be outmanoeuvred at every turn.

Oddly enough, the notion wasn’t quite as unappealing as it ought to have been. And it’d probably help take Phoebe’s mind off having to spend yet another Christmas Day without her own mother.

“I’ll ask Phoebe,” he hedged. Partly because it really was the decent thing to do, not dragging her off to somewhere on Christmas Day without her agreeing to it, and partly because it meant he could safely blame her if they ended up going.

“Mint.” Jamie smiled, pleased. “Keeley’s coming, too.”

“What?” Roy’s eyes snapped to his face. “You could have fucking led with that.”

“Nah. Wanted to make sure you said yes for me and not for her, yeah?”

“You’re an idiot,” Roy told him. “And I haven’t said yes yet.”

Jamie made a thoughtful face. “Who’s the more idiotic, the idiot or the one who spends his Christmas with the idiot?” he pondered aloud, and then – completely ignoring Roy’s second point – added, “See you later, Coach. Mum said not to bring anything, but she likes them half-sweet wines from Germany, yeah?”

And before Roy had time to repeat that he hadn’t actually agreed to come, you muppet, Jamie had sauntered over to his own car, looking so happy it made Roy’s heart do weird fucking things.

Oh, well, Roy thought, getting into this own care turning the ignition on. He’d pass by a Sainsbury on the way from to Jamie’s place that ought to be open for another few hours yet. He could pick up a couple of bottles of Rieslings there.

[measuredingold]

i’d walk through hell for you

authors note: saw that best friend!noah is all the talk right now and decided to finally free this from the drafts. inspired by a walk through hell by say anything :) there will be a second part that’s already finished and will be posted next week ! i’m not sure about a third lol as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated :)

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics

word count: 3.1k

cross posted on ao3

cw/tw: angst, hurt/comfort, heavy anxiety, best friend!noah, Noah Is A Nightmare But He Can’t Help It, reader is a sweetie and loves their friend and wants to make it better, oh eventual friends to lovers btw, 18+ minors do not interact

You haven't seen him like this in a long time. You can't even remember the last time he allowed you to see him like this, on edge, snippy with fucking everyone, and down right a fucking nightmare. You thought he had gotten that under control, at least from what he’s told you, but the scene before you lets you know that may not be the case.

For the most part. He could be worse, you think.

You've seen him far worse than this plenty of times, yet it still makes your stomach turn in an unpleasant way, and there's a foul taste settling in the back of your throat as you step into his room.

“Hey.” You say quietly, making your presence known.

“Hi.” He doesn’t even bother looking up at you. Your chest tightens.

“Jolly says you’re being a nightmare,” Noah snorts at your words, but you know he doesn’t find it that amusing. “Wanna tell me what’s up?”

Your heart breaks as your best friend finally looks up at you, the bags under his eyes and the permanent frown on his lips feeling like a literal stab to the gut. You drop your bag by the door and slowly make your way towards him.

"I can't fucking..." He sucks in a deep breath as he throws his arms towards his computer setup in the corner in his room, eyes narrowing. "This one part in the song I showed you last week. It doesn't sound right. I've messed with it for days, even sent it off to Jolly and even he can't fucking get it to sound good and, " He rubs a hand down his face, "I have to send it by tomorrow night with like four other songs. The others are fine but this fucking one..."

"Sebbe. Breathe."

He does, one long shaky breath, and you're finally looking closely enough to realize his entire body is shaking. Your anxiety kicks in then, alarms sounding off in your head because you know where this can lead. You've seen it before. Your legs take you over to his bed that he's sitting on, joining him. You make sure to keep some space between the two of you, not wanting to overwhelm him more than needed.

"I just don't know what's fucking wrong with me. Like, why can't I figure this out? I did the thing, I took the break. Came back with a clear head or whatever but all I did was fuck up the song even more to where Jolly can't even fix it and-"

"Noah."

He stills at your voice, lazily dragging his eyes towards you. He looks so tired. You know him well enough to know the break was a good fifteen minutes before he sat his ass back in that chair and clearly worked himself to the ground. You know that he's probably only slept a handful of hours in the last few days, and you fucking hate that. He struggles with sleep as is, so you know the stress of this deadline isn't good for him at all.

"Listen to me, okay?" You say slowly. Noah just blinks at you. "Send it off the way it is. You've done your best, but if you keep messing around with it with this nasty attitude, it's not going to get any better. Make sure to make a note on why the song might sound unfinished, mention that you've been struggling."

"But-"

"I'm not finished." His mouth snaps shut. "Tell Jolly you sent it off and that you guys will work on it later. These are just supposed to be demos, right?" It takes a second but Noah eventually nods, somehow looking even more tired than he did seconds ago. "Then there’s no reason for it to be perfect, anyways. Just go on to something else and then go back to it when you don't feel so... negative."

The silence after your words makes your stomach turn, Noah slowly blinking at you. You know your words are registering in his mind, but they’re melting away. He's going to only hear one part of your speech, and it's the part about sending an unfinished song to his label. The unfinished and not perfect song which is unacceptable in Noah standards, and you can already make out the frown that's beginning to form on his lips.

"I have to finish it."

"No, you actually don't."

"Yes, I actually fucking do." He bites out.

You know he doesn't mean it, to be snippy with you, but that's what happens when he's like this. Irrational, says things before thinking about them. You can't stop the way you flinch, though, grimacing at the way it hurts when he throws his anger at you. His frown only deepens, sadness etching itself over his face.

"Sorry." He mumbles, head tilting down. "I just... I need to finish it. I can't just send it off the way that it is. That's not good enough."

"Demos aren't supposed to be good. That's why they're called demos. It’s the rough draft.”

"You don't get it." He groans out, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his head in his hands. "I just... I can't do that. You know I fucking can't. It's gotta be perfect, because if not-"

"You feel like a failure." You finish his words for him and watch the second his shoulders drop.

He doesn't respond, doesn't even take his hands off his face. Instead he just nods slowly.

"Noah..."

He remains silent next to you but you can hear the way his breathing has picked up, a lot shakier than it had been seconds ago. The hands that were sprawled across his face were shaking again and this time you don't bother keeping your space, scooting closer to him.

You're deliberate with your actions, hand reaching out to slide off the beanie on top of his head. You let it fall, hand now smoothing down some of his hair that was messed up by the hat. You're quiet when your fingers gently card through his hair and you do it a few times before your nails scratch at his scalp, slow and gentle.

It takes a second, a lot longer than you actually expected, but his breathing begins to even out. His hands are still shaky, though, and he still has yet to even pick his head up. You have a feeling of what's running through his mind, and you so desperately want to crawl inside there and throw it out yourself. Fill his head with better thoughts and rid him of the mean ones he's sifting through currently.

Your hand drops from the top of his head, instinctively pushing a fallen strand behind his ear before sliding your hand down to the back of his neck. Your fingers apply a good amount of pressure there, gently rubbing out the tension. You hear him sigh out, the noise muffled by his hand.

“Talk to me. What’s going on up there, bub?”

"This is all I have." He finally says after long minutes of silence, voice sounding strained.

You frown.

He continues, "The band. Music. It's all I have. All I'm good at. I can't... it has to be perfect, you know? If it's not..." He sucks in a shaky breath and your fingers dig back into his neck. "If it's not perfect, I don't know how much longer I'll have this. One fuck up and... and this all can be..."

He doesn't finish his words, but you know what he was going to say.

This all can be taken away from me.

Noah confided that fear to you so many times, but each time you're reminded of it it's like a part of you dies. His fear of losing everything at the snap of a finger is something that haunts him and has stayed with him for as long as you could remember. No matter how hard he tried to run from it, to know that things don't always end and can't be taken from him so easily, it always seemed to come crawling back.

"It's not going to be taken away from you." You say in a small voice, scooting even closer to him. Your legs are pressed together now and you don't stop rubbing at his neck, hoping to relieve some of the stress.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do." Your fingers stop but your hand doesn't move. "Noah, look at me."

A beat passes before he's finally removing his hands from his face, slowly turning his head to stare at you. Somehow the bags under his eyes have darkened in the few minutes you've been in here with him, and it seems like that frown on his lips is permanently sketched there.

"You've gotten this far without it being taken from you." You start slowly, thumb now brushing against the side of his neck. "You're good at what you do. Everyone knows that, and everyone knows that you're not perfect. You don't need to be perfect. We all have bad days. One song that isn't sounding like you wanted isn't going to be the be all end all of your career."

"But what if it is?" He sounds so small, voice shaking with fear of the hypothetical what if and all you want to do in this moment is gather him up in your arms and never fucking let go.

"It isn't." You press. "This has happened before and guess what happened? Nothing. Nothing was taken from you, and life went on as it did."

Noah just blinks at you. You stare back at him, pressing your lips together as you mull over your next words. You're not sure if what you're telling him is getting through that head of his and you're not sure what to do next. You think he needs to take a break, a much longer one, and needs to get out of his room. Probably the house, too. Away from the problem to clear his head.

"Hey," Your thumb keeps brushing against his neck and something warm spreads across your chest when you feel him melt into the touch. "How about you come over? For the day. We go back to mine and just watch some Naruto. I haven't finished it yet."

His blank expression is soon replaced with something similar to pain and his eyes dart from your face to the corner of his room, where his set up remains. You reach up with your other hand without much thought, cupping the side of his face to turn him back towards you.

"Noah."

"I..."

His eyes dart back and forth between your face and his computer, and you can almost physically see the battle happening in his head. The need for perfection. The need for control. His hands start to shake in his lap again and your thumb brushes against the top of his cheek, trying to pull him back to you.

"Just for a few hours. A couple episodes, that's all. Just to get you out of that head of yours, then we can come back here and you can finish up that song."

A compromise, but it's enough to have that pained look on his face to fall for just a moment, body relaxing under your fingertips.

"Okay." Noah breathes out, eyes fluttering shut momentarily. " A few hours."

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face, that warmth from minutes ago settling across your chest again.

"Thank you."

He doesn't reply, just blinks at you again and gives you a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. You're not sure you got through to him, but maybe he was exhausted enough to not care anymore. Whichever one it was you'll take it, as long as it gets him away from that computer and hopefully out of his mind.

He's quiet when gathering his things, lingering by his desk when he saves whatever song it was giving him a hard time before shutting the computer down all together. He doesn't say anything when you leave either, silently following you through the house and to your car. It worries you every time he goes quiet like this, but you know it's the exhaustion from his anxiety finally catching up. And probably the minimal hours of sleep he's gotten in the last few days. Still, you hate it.

The only sign of life from him was when he bopped his head to a random song in a playlist you two created together, adding random things in there from time to time. You can't remember the name, it's one of his songs you think, which is confirmed by him humming quietly in the passenger seat next to you, scrolling through his phone.

Noah still hasn't said a word by the time you reach your apartment, and doesn't bother saying anything when he gets out of your car, shuffling behind you. You try to hide your worry as you unlock your door, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Make yourself at home."

He makes a noise in response, a quiet hum, toeing off his shoes before making a beeline for your couch, sinking immediately into the cushions. You smile at that, watching as he gets comfortable in your space. It wasn't always like this, when the two of you first became friends, but after years of growing closer, your space was almost like his. It was nice to know he trusted you that much.

"Have you eaten?" You call out to him, making your way around your kitchen. He doesn't look up from his phone.

"No."

You glare at him, but he still isn't looking. "Noah."

"Wasn't hungry." He brushes it off before pausing and finally looks up from his phone, exhaustion evident in his features as he stares at you. "I'm kind of hungry now, though."

"Yeah?" That relaxes you a bit. "I got some leftover pizza in the fridge if you want some."

"Sure."

You try to ignore the way he still sounds so... small. Barely there, like he's off in some other world. You busy yourself with fixing a plate for both you and him and make sure to pour him some water in the biggest glass that you own, knowing damn well he hasn't had a sip in hours. You bring the plates in first, setting them on the coffee table in front of your couch before going back to retrieve your drinks. You hand his cup to him, narrowing your gaze.

"Drink."

You don't miss the way he rolls his eyes but takes the glass from you without a fight, taking a slow sip. You feel like you can breathe easier now knowing that he's drunk something, and is going to eat something soon too, and you finally settle onto the couch next to him, pulling your legs up under you.

The two of you sit in silence as you mess around with your remote, trying to figure out which streaming service had Naruto on it. It had been a while since you watched it, and you knew you had to finish it. Noah's been bugging you for months, maybe even years, so now's a good time as any to start it back up.

"I can't believe you still haven't finished." You’re surprised he’s said a full sentence, words muffled around the pizza in his mouth.

"I'm trying." You whine out before taking a bite of your pizza. "There's just so many episodes."

He snorts. "You haven't even gotten to Shippuden yet."

"...You're telling me there's more?"

You look at him, head tilted and eyes wide. Noah takes in your expression and laughs, the real breathy one he does when he thinks something's ridiculous. That warm feeling in your chest returns and suddenly you feel something similar to pride fill you, being the reason behind that laughter. His lips twitch into what you think is supposed to be a smile, shaking his head.

"Dude."

"You didn't tell me there was more!"

"Yes I did! I literally told you that this was part one, and then Shippuden was part two."

"I literally don't remember that at all." You grumble out, rolling your eyes.

"You could've already been on Shippuden if you'd just watch it."

"I forgot, okay?" You cry out, which only makes Noah laugh harder. "Fucking sue me."

"We're finishing this." He says matter of factly, relaxing back against the couch. "The goal is to finish both this and Shippuden by the end of the year." You give him a crazy look, brows furrowing, and he laughs again. "Okay. How about we at least start Shippuden by the end of the year?"

You think about it for a moment before nodding your head, taking another bite of your pizza. "I think I can manage that."

He smiles for real this time, small but it's real, and you smile back.

"Deal."

One episode turns into two, two turns into three, and somehow three turns into you almost finishing the season you'd been on for the last few months. You've finished your pizza by this time and Noah's been resting his head on your shoulder for the last three episodes now. The light from outside is dimming, and you know you should probably take him back home. You've kept him here much longer than he agreed to, but he hadn't said anything, just kept saying to play the next episode. He was finally relaxed and seemed to have finally forgotten about the song, at least for the moment.

And selfishly, maybe a part of you wanted to keep him here, pressed into your side for just a little longer.

The episode finally comes to an end and you go to ask if he wants to watch another episode, but a soft snore interrupts your sentence. You blink down at Noah asleep on your shoulder, face pressed against you and mouth open. You probably should be a little disgusted at the way he is most definitely drooling on you but instead you feel... endeared. He feels safe enough to sleep around you, and that feeling in your chest returns.

You reach for your phone next to you, typing out a text to Jolly that Noah had fallen asleep and you'll bring him back whenever he wakes up.

Thank fuck. He's been on nightmare mode for the last three days. He needs this.

A moment later another message from him comes through.

Thanks, btw. I don't know what he'd do without you, and quite frankly, me either. ❤️

That feeling in your chest blossoms into something you can't quite explain, a smile stretching across your lips. You send back your response before tossing your phone onto the couch and you rest your head against his, pressing your body closer to your best friends.

You're not sure what you'd do without him either.

[lightlycareless]

Merry Christmas y'all!! I hope you had a wonderful time with your loved ones ❤️

I didn't get to enjoy this holiday that much because of... women issues. iykyk But still, I got to finish this and play some games so it wasn't all that bad :)

There's another piece that I also intend to upload soon, probably tomorrow lol but the bottom line is we getting two Christmas specials :> which I hope you enjoy!!

warnings: none. fluff. you and naoya are married and naomi already exists, however, it's not entirely centric on them. Mai and Maki's mom is the protagonist here :')

Happy reading!

“If you go through with that change, you’ll be over the budget.”

Junko doesn’t know why she even bothers warning you so when it always ends up the same way: you go over your pre-approved spending limit, the elders question you about it, Naoya covers for it—or more like demands them to back off and pays for the difference.

In fact, he seemed to encourage it too, given how he never reproached you about it and even admired your ill choices—certainly unbefitting of your responsibilities as the future Lady of the House.

More so since there’s a new motivator behind your actions this time around.

“But it’s going to look so pretty, right?”

If she already thought the enthusiasm you had for your first Christmas at the Zen’in estate was too much, preparing everything for your daughter’s first celebration was beyond her expectations.

“It’s Naomi’s first Christmas, surely you must understand why I need to make this extra special for her.”

No. she doesn’t. She didn’t even do it for her own daughters, did you really expect her to suddenly grow empathetic to your cause?

The best thing you could do for everyone was stop, at least then she wouldn’t have to deal with complaints about the bad job she’s supposedly doing by guiding you through your new responsibilities.

But you’d become stubborn, just like your husband, marking this as the newest bane of her existence for all eternity to come.

“Hurry, Naoya! We’re just waiting for you! I already have everything set up so let’s go!” you urged whilst holding Naomi with one arm, pulling Naoya onto the main garden with the other—and he laughs alongside you while doing so, after days of endless teases, how could he not be thrilled by your surprise too?

“Careful, my love. I’m not confident our dumpling enjoys being jolted like that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You lament, immediately glancing down at your precious baby —just short of a year old— dressed up in a cozy polar bear fleece onesie that made her look even cuter. Alongside her big, round, golden eyes that told you there was nothing to worry about, for she was equally excited to see what you had in store for her. “My adorable princess, are you ready for your first Christmas?”

The baby gurgles, giving the two the most adorable sound capable of curing all ailments in the world, if possible.

“It’s our first Christmas as a family too.” Naoya notes, and your heart flutters at the thought.

“It is.” You respond, looking up to him with pure adoration—unconditional love. As well as partial disbelief, like you were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that one of your biggest dreams had come true.

A family.

Composed of a baby girl who couldn’t be any more perfect, a beautiful, sweet little thing that wholly compasses your love for Naoya.

And a husband, loyal, dedicated, protective—who wants nothing but your well-being, and of course, your love. Which he has more than enough to return.

You didn’t care for what Naoya had gotten you this year, not even dared to wonder, because the best gift you could’ve obtained was already in your arms.

“You’re making me cry, Naoya, that’s not fair!” You pout, he chuckles.

“Then don’t, just think about how happy Naomi is going to be when you reveal her surprise.”

Alongside the gathering crowd composed of Mai and Maki, whom you promptly invited the moment this idea crossed your mind, eagerly tugging at their mother’s sleeve as they wished to keep up with you.

“Come on, mom! We’re going to miss it!” Maki insisted. “I want to be there when it happens!”

“You two should be in bed by now!” Junko scolds, gently fighting back against their daughters, but ultimately failing against their unparalleled enthusiasm.

“We’ll go to bed as soon as we see it, we promise!” Mai quickly arranges. “Please, mom? I’ve never seen anything like this before!”

At her unwanted impotency, Junko naturally stretches to find a culprit behind their erratic behavior and make them responsible!

Or more like she wants to directly confront you for being their obvious prime instigator and demand you to stop filling their minds with senseless ideas, less you desired to suffer the consequences!

But of course, it all takes her back to the initial point. There is no use in her frustrations if by the end of the day she’ll just get the same result: you’ll promise to be more careful with your actions, ask the twins to be more obedient towards her… and let your enthusiasm get the best of you once more, completely disregarding the Zen’in’s inner workings.

So instead of wasting her time, she simply makes them promise to go to bed soon after you do whatever it is that you have planned and move on; arriving just a few seconds after you and taking their respective positions, the best seats as you’d put it.

And once ready yourself, you’d look over to your staff, signaling them to begin.

A wide smile on your face as the results of all your careful planning comes to life, bright colored lights decorating the garden, from the flowers to the trees, in all its festive glory—in such hypnotizing manner that those present could only gasp in awe at its beauty.

But if that wasn’t enough, you also made sure to pace everything correctly; a combination of dazzling entertainment that proved to be a complete success given the way your enthralled daughter bubbled whenever her favorite color appeared, or when encouraging her to do so.

“I think our little princess likes it.” Naoya declares, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close.

“I knew she would.” You murmur proudly while resting your head over his shoulder. “And you? Do you like it?”

“I love it, just like everything you do.”

Junko looks away the moment two lean in for a kiss, just in time to avoid any further embarrassments—as if she wasn’t struggling enough with her unruly daughters and your senseless spending.

But even amongst all these inner conflicts, a part of Junko cannot keep her away from looking at your work. The one she previously disregarded as unnecessary, but now, before it’s intricacy… she can’t help but feel calm. Nostalgic even, though this sentiment wasn’t uncommon during these festivities.

Yet, to her it was. Almost intriguing that someone like her, that has never taken interest in commemorating such things in the past, less so after getting married, could feel such a way.

Though one quick glance at her daughters, the beaming, wide-eyed children that were equally enthralled as Naomi in the face of your celebration, would provide the answer. Because just like your child, they too were essentially celebrating their first Christmas together. As a family.

After brief consideration, perhaps finding it unnecessary to cut short this harmless moment, Junko decides to let her guard down and enjoy the rest of the evening. Soon captivated by the following fireworks, courtesy of the nearby village, which she was never aware could be seen from there.

Not that it mattered to ponder about such a possibility now, not when she allowed her mind to diverge instead into a universe where enjoyable moments like these were an everyday norm—and not an example of defiance.

ugh I needed to give them the spotlight :') idk why it just came to me; but omg hahaha I'm sorry if y'all were expecting something a bit lighthearted but I promise the other oneshot I'm working on is 🙈 just needed to get this one out of my system.

Now, without anything else to add, I hope you have happy holidays!! Thank you so much for your support 🥺❤️ really, I could not be here without you guys.

Take care and hope to see you soon!!!

[strawberryblue-blog]

Beg for you —Hector Fort.

summary: You and your friends go to a college party where there is a man who flirts with you but you don't want anything to do with him (or maybe yes)

warnings: Yes. +18. smut, sexual tension, argument, enemies to lovers, college romance.

words count: +2.1k.

#SEXYNOTE: Merry Christmas (late) to my readers. I wanted to thank you all for your support. I love you all so much 💙🦋

The evening breeze hit your body as your friends laughed at a gossip told by one of them, you had been talking, dancing and having fun for several hours. The bottle in your hand kept emptying as the hours passed and you began to feel like going home.

You had a big exam tomorrow and you had only come because your friends had asked you to but you were supposed to be studying. You weren't a prude either, you liked to go out to parties and enjoy yourself with your friends but tomorrow was a big commitment and you couldn't miss the most important exams of your first year.

"Someone has a hot admirer" squealed your friend towards you, pointing to the group of boys behind you.

As soon as you turn a little, you see the boy in a round with his friends while his gaze is paid on you. Shameless. Looking at you like he wants something. Something you won't give him. He smiles flirtatiously and raises his glass to you, as if he's toasting you.

In return, you raise your hand and flash your middle finger right in his face.

"More of a stalker than an admirer, I'd say" you mutter rolling your eyes, turning back to them. Your friends laugh.

Since you had arrived, the boy had been staring at you and you were already starting to feel uncomfortable. You didn't want to be here but it was the first time you had been invited to a senior party and your friends had used your stalker to come.

It was a party in the backyard of the football team's fraternity house and he was the football team's captain. Hector Fort. Star player and leader of the college football team. A walking cliché who you don't want to get involved with.

"Come on, Y/n" says another amused one. "He's just a man, one who's interested in you!" she complains and the others agree.

"Following me around after class, inviting you guys over to blackmail me, texting me without my consent? I don't think so" you reply, listing situations.

Hector has been interested (or so they say) in you. After hitting you in the head with the ball in gym class, he had tried to approach you but you wanted nothing to do with him.

"Just play along a little longer, so we'll get invited to parties and we can hang out with cute and famous guys" your friend asks pouting.

"You can have it if you want, I'll pass" you say finishing your bottle.

No way. You're not attracted to him at all, not even with that tough guy look. He would never be interested in someone like you nor would you be interested in someone like him. You're just not compatible. It's probably some bet with his friends like the typical ones they make every time with a new girl. You won't spend your first year of college with a broken heart or being the mockery of the entire college.

"Did you hear that Karen slept with the History teacher?" one of them asked changing the subject and you obliged as they started whispering about it.

"I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be right back" you comment as they continue to tell the gossip. They nod and wander off into the crowd.

It's not hard to find the bathroom, since you know the place. It's not the first party you've been to here, but like all parties, you have to wait at the door for the bathroom. When finally the young man who was inside manages to get out, between stumbling and complaining, you enter the bathroom. Inside, you do your business and wash your hands.

A knock on the door makes you sigh. You've only had a minute of peace.

"Busy" you squeak and go about your business.

You can barely hear the music and you splash your face with water as you feel a slight dizziness. Damn. You shouldn't have drunk, you'll have a headache tomorrow. But you were a little stressed and finished the first bottle in one gulp when your friend gave it to you.

Again, the door rang again. But you didn't say anything. That it would hold, it was only a second and you hadn't been in for long.

"Busy!" you yell again as you feel the door ring again and someone opens it.

Just as you want to interject your body to stop it, a manly figure enters the bathroom with you and closes the door behind him, locking it with the latch. Shit. You hadn't done it, the door was open as if you had planned it. Your eyes see the boy leaning against the door with his hand on the doorknob.

"What are you doing?" you ask confused, you try to grab the doorknob but he gets in the way.

Your air starts to go short and you become defensive, especially as a shiver runs down your spine. It's dangerous to be around people like him, more so at a party, drunk, stoned and crazy.

"Let me out" you ask in fear. "Or I'll scream" you swallow saliva.

Hector smiles sideways, playing innocent.

"You're even cuter with red cheeks" he mutters molly, trying to generate something in you, which is nausea.

It's an involuntary act. Your cheeks turn red from the alcohol, of course. You lower your face somewhat embarrassed but remember that he won't generate anything in you. You raise your brow high again and look at him.

"I'm going to scream if you don't move" you insist crossing your hands across your chest, looking to protect yourself. "Let me go."

Although you don't feel safe, you don't feel insecure either. But you can't trust him, he's a man, an enlarged and predatory one and you don't know him at all.

"Does playing hard to get work for you?" he asks with a smirk still leaning against the door with his body relaxed, as if he enjoys this.

You bite your tongue beginning to rage. Suddenly you feel warmth in your body, as if you are suffocating. Even your teeth screech from talking back to him.

"Does playing an idiot work for you?" you lash out at once. He laughs.

"What do you want? I have to go right away" you say raising an eyebrow.

Hector bites his lip and takes a step towards you, which leaves you motionless for a few seconds but then you also take a step backwards away from him. You get defensive, not letting him make another move.

"Talk to you" he mutters taking another step. "Or maybe... not talk" he licks his lip again and you grimace.

"I have nothing to talk to you. We have nothing in common to talk about. I've already told you that, Hector" you reply exhausted.

All the times he had tried to get close to you, you hadn't let him. He used to look for you after school, when he had lunch with the girls, while you were running around in gym class, he had even gone to your room but you never answered him. He could keep insisting that you weren't going to give him what he wanted.

"Says you" he takes another step towards you and you take another step back.

Even though there is still distance between you, you begin to feel your stomach churn. He's only a foot away from you and you fear he's getting closer. The atmosphere is tense, desperate and suffocating. It was obvious that your primary interest was to get out of here, but you were certain that Hector was not going to make it easy for you.

You take a careful breath, without even moving, you don't want him to notice that for some reason you are starting to get nervous. His closeness is dangerous, everything about him is.

"We could have a lot of things in common if you wanted" he smiles sideways as he takes another step.

And you try to take another. But you don't really take it, because the space between you and the sink is gone. Your body slams against the marble countertop behind you and you are pinned between it and Hector.

You swallow as the distance between you is minimal, you can almost feel his body brush against yours. Your startled eyes watch his smug eyes, his sideways smile as if he is flirting with you and his poker face. A small bead of sweat begins to descend on the back of your neck and you swear you've never been so tense and nervous as you are right now. You have no escape.

"As I said there's nothing you and I could have in common" you mutter harshly.

Playing hard to get (even though you don't really do it) was always easy for you. You didn't come to college to flirt with football players or men in general, you're not a saint either but you don't need to get involved with people like him to feel better or more valued. College jocks are a cliché like the typical American movies, they are handsome, applied, talented and kind, they can have any girl at their feet. Sleeping with them is a privilege and if they choose you and you can't refuse. Who the fuck imposed that rule? You are free to choose who you want and not want too.

"If you want I can prove it to you" he raises his perfectly delineated eyebrow.

One of his hands takes a lock of your long hair and begins to play with it, crossing it through his fingers as his gaze drifts to your mouth and back to your eyes. Your heart is pounding and even though you want to run, you just stand there.

You look at him with a 'surprise me' face waiting for his demonstration as you roll your eyes. He cocks his head slightly, smiling before he moves completely closer to you.

His hands hold your hips and then circle your ass, lifting himself off the floor ignoring your complaint. He sits you down on the wash counter and positions himself between your spread legs, hugging your waist as his lips impact against yours.

For a second you are in complete shock, your hands refuse to touch him and your lips don't move. But he kisses you regardless. You want to push him away and hit him, to scream that he's taking advantage of you but you can't do any of that. Because your hands wrap around his neck and you kiss him back. Hard and passionate.

His torso melts between your body and you kiss like there's no tomorrow. Your hands caress his curls and his hands roam down your back and waist, caressing you. His tongue takes over your mouth and leads you into a wet, sensual, needy kiss. You're so deep inside yourself, you can't think straight. You can't even think at all.

He pulls away a little to let you breathe, your mouths red and wet, he smiles and you want to smack him across the face to wipe it away. But more so, you want to kiss him. You move to his mouth to kiss him and Hector runs his face, preventing you. Your shaky breaths mingle and you hear him laugh. Is he making fun of you? Is this a joke? After having followed you for weeks?

"If you want to, you have to ask me nicely" he whispers brushing your lips.

You deny, rolling your eyes. "I won't beg for you" you spit.

Your hands still hold his face and Hector's hands squeeze your waist, urging you on. But you wouldn't beg for him. You never would.

Relax his lips and you feel hungry. Hungry to be the one to lick them. Damn. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Your whole body is on fire. You feel every muscle in your body tighten with every passing second. The sexual tension between you is so obvious that it embarrasses you.

Feeling attraction for Hector embarrasses you.

"Fuck, Y/n, kiss me" he asks even more moving his face closer to yours but not touching you.

He wants to kiss you but he won't. He wants you to. And neither will you.

"Kiss me" he whispers again, his eyes are pure fire and his husky voice makes your hair stand on end.

You smile a little at how desperate he is, his body sticks closer to yours and you know he won't delay any longer. He can't. Not with you provoking him. Your legs wrap around his waist and you squeeze him, gasping when your bodies brush, you grab him by the collar of his shirt but don't move closer. He watches you. He sees you. He admires you. And that makes you feel good.

"You really want to have me at your feet, don't you?" he questions as his hands roam over your chest.

You gasp as his finger trails down the hollow of your breasts, teasing you. This is a game. So you're going to play. You relax your lips as you move a little and feel his bulge against your body, he grunts and in return squeeze one of your tits. Dirty and dangerous. You moan feeling the wetness between your legs.

Your hands move down his back and you grab his ass, squeezing it tightly to start rubbing against him. You both moan looking straight into each other's eyes. But you still do nothing. His face brushes against yours again, millimeters away, almost all of yours.

The heat is suffocating, the tension is too much. You feel like you're on fire, literally. But you won't be the one to give way. Not against him.

"Will you really make me beg for you?" he says the opposite way you said it.

It sounds desperate, needy. But you are too, you just can take it longer.

"Please..." is heard in the room.

It sounds like a plea. And it's not yours. It's Hector's.

He just begged you. He really did.

A small smile forms on your lips as your hands run up his taut back. He asked for it, he'll have it.

And you kiss him wildly again. His hands never stop molding your tits while your bodies rub together with need. Everything about you screams fire. The two lost in temptation, kissing, touching each other.

Everything in your head was a sign, You kept thinking that being here was a mistake. Kissing Hector was a mistake. But you couldn't stop doing it. You had promised that you wouldn't sleep with him, that you wouldn't even speak to him, but this was the complete opposite.

Maybe the attention he'd been putting on you had made you feel something different these days and maybe this was nothing more than simple attraction. You prayed it just was. Because it definitely you weren't going to look at him again after this. Fucking in a party bathroom? This was going to be fucking news.

You should never have listened to your friends when they said to play along, this was too much. His hands peeled off your pants and he didn't even take enough time to appreciate you, you didn't even care. It was just sex. When you were naked enough for him to enter you, he did so without even moving his clothes. It was obvious that they were both desperate. The tension was too much in your bodies, you needed to release it one way or another.

It wasn't a myth. Hector was huge. His cock barely fit in your center, making you writhe in pleasure as your hands held onto the counter. Your body was leaning against the mirror as Hector penetrated you again and again, erratic and wild. Her moans were loud, you were sure that if someone was outside they could hear you and it was damn embarrassing.

But you couldn't care less, you wanted to feel something that would take you out of your head tonight and Hector was definitely making you feel something. For a moment there were no worries in your head, no exams, no prejudices, there was nothing. Just him fucking you like an animal. Your mouths joined and panting, trying to withstand his blows while pleasure invaded you.

The way he was touching you, his fingers wrapped around your breasts as his onslaught kept pounding your center. He was eager. So were you.

Hector knew exactly how to please a woman, you were witnessing it and even you couldn't believe it. Damn it. Tomorrow there would be so much gossip about you but you didn't care. You wanted him to fuck you so hard, you wanted this tension to end.

You were afraid the washboard would break under you because of how hard he was fucking you, your body slamming against the mirror as his back arched. You tried to hold him tight so he wouldn't hip you, he was wild. His lips kissed your neck, your shoulders, he bit your skin, your lips. Your nails scratched his skin, leaving the marks impacted like a struggle.

The waves of pleasure were beginning to make your vision blurred and you couldn't even think, you were clouded in his presence. Hector was grunting and your moans were sure to be heard on the other side but the music was too loud, you didn't care. If anyone else wanted the bathroom? Fuck them.

You weren't going to leave this moment right now. You couldn't leave Hector. For tonight, you were his. And he was yours. That was all that mattered.

[inamindfarfaraway]

AITA for paying my employee minimum wage?

I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I suppose unusual events may call for unusual responses. I (male in my 70s) am a wealthy businessman, landlord and moneylender, making most of my income from rent and debts. My clerk (male in his 30s) is my only employee. He has a family with a few kids, not sure how many. I pay him a perfectly respectable minimum wage for his position and I even gave all of tomorrow off with pay for Christmas, despite my opinion that a frivolous holiday is not that good a reason to skip work. He’s worked for me for many years and never once complained about his pay or conditions. He might not particularly enjoy his job either, but he doesn’t have to. It’s work, not play. Hell, I don’t particularly enjoy my job.

However, this evening… I heard another point of view. You’d never believe me if I told you everything and it feels like a dream - I’d certainly like it to be a dream, but I don’t see how I could have thought of it - but let’s just say that I was visited by an old friend. He’d been my business partner (male in his late 60s). Seven years ago he… left and I never expected to see him again. He came back though, apparently just to tell me off. He’s not doing well. He’s been travelling among all sorts of people and deeply disturbed by what he’s seen. The plight of ‘mankind’ and all that. He made a big deal about how I should be nicer to people and more generous and such, as if it were a matter of life and death. Last I knew we were on the same page about everything, but just now he looked at me like I was a criminal. Or an asshole, as it were. I don’t understand it.

I want to stress that nothing I’m doing is illegal. None of my business, none of how I treat my clerk. Well, I imagine that technically, if you were being harsh, you could argue that occasionally my conduct toward him falls under ‘harassment’, but I think that’s a stretch. When I’m strict, it’s out of valid concern for productivity. I am truly dedicated to my work; all I ask is that my clerk be the same. If he needs more money so badly, he should have the guts to ask for it and explain himself (I’d still have to consider my answer, but at least I’d know that he felt that way) or just find a different job or perhaps, heaven forbid, be a bit more financially responsible. If he has to scrape together Christmas festivities, maybe he shouldn’t bother celebrating it at all, for example. Why spend his money on that instead of food or clothes? Or keeping or investing it? I’ve saved as much as possible and I’m all the better off for it. I think it’s far more likely that he simply wants more than he deserves - if he does want a raise, which he hasn’t said! He agreed to this pay. We made an arrangement, and based on the stable routine of all these years, it benefits both of us. I don’t know why my friend thinks there’s a problem.

But he does. He was… he was seriously unhappy with me. I’ve never known him to be so sentimental, and he wouldn’t get that emotional for absolutely no reason, so here I am. Am I ‘the asshole’ for paying my employee a completely legal and normal minimum wage?

Update:

I think I probably am the asshole here. I’ve read your feedback, done a lot of reflection, taken quite the walk down memory lane, and among other things I remembered my old boss and how he treated me. He dominated so much of my life, he could have done the bare minimum or made me miserable, but he was nice. He just chose to be kind. Like he asked “Why not?” when I always tend to ask “Why?”. And he payed me better than I pay my employee, especially relative to his income. I can definitely afford to give my clerk a raise, and treat him with more respect while I’m at it. Authority is a powerful thing. I’ve… I’ve been taking advantage of it. I’ve been taking my clerk for granted. But he’s a good worker and he deserves to be rewarded. I’ll raise his pay when he comes back in on Boxing Day.

Thank you for your advice. I don’t appreciate the insults - I am not a parasite, I have pulled myself up with my own honest work, and there’s nothing wrong with getting ahead when it’s eat or be eaten. We all do what we have to do. But I should also do more. So in hindsight, much of your criticism was accurate and warranted. Good for you. I know it’s a bad time and you must all busy and/or tired. I wasn’t planning to stay up this late. I will now hopefully get some sleep.

Should I say goodbye? I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never done this before. What the hell, why not? Goodnight.

Update:

So. Some more stuff happened and I ended up going for a… a walk, an extremely normal walk, and meeting my clerk’s family. Or at least seeing them. It’s hard to explain. What time is on your computer clocks, by the way? I think mine is broken. Anyway, my clerk is like, Poor. Poor poor. And I’m a huge asshole. I knew theoretically that the minimum wage and the living wage are not the same, but I never really thought about the effects of that, I didn’t want to think about it, but I am now! I’m beyond an asshole, I’m a piece of shit!

This family, they’re struggling so much and they have so many other problems and I’ve kept them living on a pitiful salary. One of their children is sick. I don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s bad and it’s getting worse. There is a treatment that could help him, but it’s expensive and they can’t afford it, his parents know they can’t afford it, and if he doesn’t get it… I don’t know how long this kid has left. He’s the sweetest little boy and he might not even grow up. These parents love their kids with everything they have, but they can’t fix this. But! But I’m right here! I’ve been right here with all this money all this time, and I never bothered to ask about his family or care or help. It would have been so easy. I wish I’d realised all of this years earlier. I’m such a piece of shit. But I still have time and a plenty of money. I’m going to help. I’ll do everything I can. I promise.

Also, I am sorry for my replies to some of your comments on my original post. I was spiteful and insensitive. I’ve been… very angry for a very long time, more at the world in general than anything else, and in the habit of taking it out on whoever I could. I need to stop that. I’ll add it to the list. Consider those replies redacted. Once again, thank you for your feedback and goodnight. Merry Christmas. I hope you get enough sleep if you’re awake in my time zone at this hour.

update

do you ever think about how we’re all going to die? we could all die at any moment. we never know when we never know how much time we get and that’s why life is sososo precious and you have to use it wisely. but i have not! done that! i’m old i could die any day now. i could die today and what would i have to show? for my entire great big life? loads of money i’m never gonna use? i always thought that how much of something you had was about how you spent it. money and time. what you get is what you give or deserve. but it’s not! it’s mostly just luck and other people. most rich people are just born rich already. then it’s easy to get richer from there. i wasn’t born rich not really but i had a lot of help, a good school, a good boss, my friend, and now that i am rich i do less work for more money. it’s not fair. i’ve fucked up so much for so long and yet i have so much money and i’ve had so much time and i’ve wasted both of them. i don’t need all that money in the first place but that’s what i’ve spent my whole life on, why? what’s the point?

and then on the other hand you have the fact that. children are dying right now. whenever you’re reading this. loads and load of them all over when they don’t have to. fucking kids. and innocent people good people amazing people who are happy who make people happy who use their time infinitely better than i have don’t earn any reward. they don’t get any justice. most people have less than they need and meanwhile so many bastards have so much more. why? what’s the point of it?

why is it like this? why is the world like this? like we waste so much food and water and money so why don’t we just give it to poor people if we’re not going to use it? why do you have to pay for it if there’s so much why can’t? and like rent why do people have to pay rent? why can’t you just live somewhere? or medicine why do you have to pay for that? it’s. it’s life! why do we have to pay for LIFE when you don’t choose to be born? it’s not right.

and i know that there are laws and politics deciding those big things. but we can still make it better right? we can make a difference can’t we? even though there are so many massive problems like poverty and war and hunger and so many people who aren’t helping when they could. it still matters right? being good. even though you’re just one person. right?

why do kids have to die when they don’t have to die

it’s not fair. it’s not fair

i’m sorry. i shouldn’t even be posting this. it’s just venting and rambling and it probably doesn’t make any sense. i swear to god i’m not drunk or high i’m just having a really weird night. it’s like i’ve shut out a million things over decades and tonight they’re all flooding in at once.

i just. i feel like i’m dying and i need to get these thoughts out of my head. i need to know that they’re real and i’m real and i’m alive. i need to know that it matters.

i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.

UPDATE!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!! I am not dead and I don’t think I’m crazy, I honestly feel the best I have in ages, and I will not elaborate on last night because that’ll only raise more questions but I will say this! I paid for my clerk’s Christmas dinner and I’m gonna give him a gigantic raise! I also donated a fuckton to charity! Thank you all so much I love you!!!!!

Update:

Happy Boxing Day, everyone. After that rollercoaster, I thought I ought to formally conlude this strange saga. My clerk came back to work this morning and I gave him his raise and a profound apology, as well as paid leave until a couple of days after New Year’s. To call him surprised would be an understatement. It was very fun. I totally understand if he chooses to get a new job now, but I hope we keep in touch. He’s a wonderful person. And I’d like to know if his son will be okay.

Although I haven’t got far yet (I’ve been catching up with family, I was the asshole there too, but no need to dump that baggage on you now that it’s being resolved), I am planning to make some major reforms to my business strategies. I’ve lowered rent on my properties to something affordable, for a start. I’m also researching charities and community projects. I have a great deal of moral debt to redeem. You can make a difference and I’m gonna prove it.

Many thanks for your support and concern, and rest assured that I’m in about as good health as I can be at this age, with the caveat of a mild hangover after a Christmas party. Turns out I like parties. I am processing that… ah, crisis, and I have people who care about me and a strong resolve to ground me. I will look into therapy.

I wish you all the best. I meant it, so I’ll repeat it: I love you. And my old friend, if you’re reading this wherever you are now, thank you for that intervention. It was worth it. I hope you’re doing better and we can talk again someday.

[emmenai-kalliston]

it's just like in that Hozier song ^^ (please fuck me I want you so bad)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

If you were to like redesign Magneto's classic outfit in a way that both suits the character and your own tastes, how would you redesign it?

uhhhh errrmmmmm i dont know i really couldnt improve upon perfection but i have still tried for you my friend !!!

[articskele]

Thoughts on a time loop au with onceler and artic? Be that Once-ler in a time loop or artic in a time loop?

OOH, here's an idea!!

The day resets to morning, but the Onceler doesn't think much of it at first, assuming it's one of those "having a dream that you did something irl" type things.

He even tells Artic about it, laughing it off as a strange bit of happenstance, only to realize that events of the "dream" are happening all over again.

I imagine it starts with something small. The day seemed relatively normal, but maybe food got burnt, or the contraption they set up to prevent snow from building up on the cottage malfunctioned, or something went wrong with the heater. Maybe all three.

So that must be the problem, right?

So he keeps an eye on the food, he checks on the roof before it starts snowing really hard, he finds out what’s up with the heater (barbaloot fur was getting stuck in there since they’ve been crowding around it for warmth).

The problem is fixed, things turn out just fine, and he and Artic snuggle into bed. But the loop doesn't end. So what's going on here? What gives??

—

The Onceler spends the next few loops making Absolutely Sure that everything goes to plan, only to get more and more frustrated when the day resets again.

I’m sure at one point, he tried to stay up all night outside with Melvin, only to inevitably fall asleep and find himself back in bed.

To which he got up, looked at the calendar, and just let out a frustrated “augh!!!” leaving everyone around him very confused-

Honestly if you told Artic you were in a time loop she would believe you immediately, and ask what she could do to help. After all, why lie about something so out of left field?

But even in the loops where he tells her what’s going on, they just can’t seem to figure it out.

—

He eventually goes to the Lorax in a huff, the shorter fellow now noticeably fluffier thanks to the cold. Even he doesn’t have an answer, but he suggests taking a moment to stop and observe.

He’s been obsessing over what went right or wrong, getting so focused on what he thought was the goal, that his surroundings started to blur. It would do him good to just take a breath and exist in the moment.

The pale yellows and blues of the morning. The wisps in the pan as breakfast is cooking. The way the snow shines in midday, and the clouds gather to turn it all gray. Afternoon snow, blankets all around you. A shift in her eyes, hidden in the blue.

From then on, his goal each loop is to find something new. Picking up on the subtleties in Artic’s behavior, especially.

Maybe her inexplicable feelings of deja-vu today have her worried about the future. Seeing how far they've come, but being scared that they're falling stagnant. That it's only an inevitability until something stops.

(Something something she’s had similar fears before, following the theme of repetition, but also because anxiety is a persistent beast)

Especially since their one-year anniversary is coming up. That strange melancholy you get when something good is about to happen.

—

Most all of the Onceler’s attempts thus far have revolved around himself, be it fixing problems and scrambling to keep everything under control, or just experiencing the world through his eyes.

But here, he really focuses on his interactions with others.

It’s one thing for repetition to make you disregard the beauty of your surroundings, but it’s another thing for that to affect how you see people, and by golly he’s not gonna let that happen.

In this loop, those daily problems he was so worried about end up happening. But it was never about them.

If anything, the events of the day bring the two of them together (figuratively and literally on account of the snowstorm), and they end up having a really sweet heart-to-heart.

Reassuring Artic that this is by no means the end. They have so much life ahead of them, and it’s made all the better thanks to her.

The Onceler holding her close, his voice all quiet as he musters up the courage to say he wants to grow old with her…….. AAAAAAAAUH

—

And when they settle into bed, instead of the usual anxious anticipation or “cmon cmon this had better be the one,” he’s just happy this day went the way it did.

And when he wakes up, fully prepared to start all over again, the sky looks different. It’s still cloudy from the storm last night.

That pattern of snow melting in the morning sun, drip drip dripping onto the windowsill, isn’t there. Now replaced by the sound of piled up snow sloughing off the top of a truffula tree.

And sure enough, when he looks at the calendar, it’s the next day. And the rush of excitement and relief is like none other :D

[mxwhore]

mutuals. i am getting caught in my own bitterness again...

[hazmatazz]

realizing how much physical affection means to me literally. like i always get that as my #1 love language for every fun test i do but oh my god they're right. i don't get enough physical affection or i don't get people saying they're giving me physical affection when they can't and suddenly i'm staying up that everyone hates me

[exopelagic]

okay I severely misjudged spaghetti guy he’s actually just really cool

[transgendercastiel]

Google search how to come out to someone whose favourite Jim carrey film is ace ventura ONE

[mad-hunts]

okay, yeah, barton is a bad guy — that is pretty much a given but what if i told y'all that i got this image of him in my head of him dressed up in matching tuxedos with matilda and them just. attending a masquerade gala as part of some plot to get close to someone and actually not committing any atrocities, but they do do one small little... victimless crime near the end of it which might be Uh. Stealing some rich guys car on the way out or something and flipping him off as they drive off with it, laughing all the way, and it's honestly kind of funny in a bad way because WOW are they bold and perhapsss dare i say it's a little iconic because of the matching tux's + i just imagined them peeling out of the place in the poor guys car like why did they have to do him like that??

i mean it's obviously NOT Good that barton stole that guys car but he actually didn't hurt anyone and stealing the car wasn't even planned. it was just a spur of the moment decision, like i can just imagine them having this completely non-verbal exchange with their eyes once they see this SUPER expensive car in front of the place. because matilda just gets wide eyed like 'OOH, that is niceee' and barton just looks back at her like 'wanna steal it?' and of course she says 'yes, obviously,' like LMAOO idk i just thought it was kind of a nice deviance from the norm for them and they're bonding. criminally, mind you, but still bonding JSJSJ

[missingn000]