#but i also want to make him look scared kind of and the reference did not have pupils

[suggru]

maybe wips do better numbers cuz of like the process of imagination and filling in the blanks and the desire of the unknown... or something idk i read it on a blog 2 years ago

[novvabee]

And They Were Roommates 11

this sat in my drafts for a while because of the whole tiktok ban thing.

Summary: you prank James and it makes for a great tiktok.

word count: 1.5k

cw: swearing once or twice

The boys really didn’t understand what you were up to now. 

They understood the concepts of social media and partook in the occasional instagram post, but they were all so… different.

You knew that they went to a boarding school that didn’t allow any technology, and they were severely lacking in the pop culture department, but usually Remus could fill in the gaps for the other two boys. He was the one who had seen all the movies you’d reference or know about a celebrity that you were talking about. 

But when it came to silly trends and social media references, the boys were completely lost.

So, you decided to take advantage of their lack of understanding for a good laugh. Even though the girls also went to this boarding school, they still had a good understanding of the world. You and Lily would send funny videos or TikToks to each other, Mary would always discuss the latest celebrity tea with you, and Marlene would recommend new artists she found and send them to you to give a listen to. The point is, they weren’t as blind to these things as the boys were, maybe the boys were just heavily sheltered?

Either way, when you rounded them all up to explain that you wanted to do a silly trend, they looked at you in bewilderment. You had to explain multiple times what a “hear me out cake” was. You explained to them the premise, that there would be a cake that you all would take turns decorating with people and characters that you think were attractive and the rest of the group would have to ‘hear you out’ on why. 

You all compiled your lists and sent the pictures up to Remus’s printer in his room. You noticed the boys had far less than yourself, but that was ok, you were really just trying to prank James and send the video to Lily.

The other day he had scared the daylights out of you when you thought you were home alone. He thought it was hilarious, you did not, so you knew you had to get him back somehow and you knew he wouldn’t be expecting this at all. None of them would, and you were ready to show off your mischievous side.

You sat in the living room, cutting out your images and taping them to toothpicks to later pop in the cake. Remus and James were kind enough to run to the store down the road and pick up a cake. You laughed at the inscription iced on top; a generic “Happy Birthday” with balloons iced around the corners.

“It’s perfect.” you smiled up at them.

They set the cake on the dining table as you and Sirius made your way into the kitchen. You handed both Remus and James their pictures and set your phone up to start recording. 

“I still don’t really get it,” Sirius said from beside you, “Why do you have to film it? And why do you want to know who we find fit?”

You laughed as you hit the record button, stepping back and in line with the boys. “Because it’s just a stupid TikTok thing. I thought it would be funny.” you said, looking up at Sirius and batting your lashes, knowing he would go along with whatever you wanted when you looked at him like that.

“Fine,” he said finally.

“Ok, I'll go first,” you said. You pulled out a picture and stuck it in the cake. “James Sully.” You finished placing the picture of the blue avatar front and center.

“The Avatar?” Remus asked as James said, “Why is he blue?” to Sirius. Sirius just shrugged and looked to Remus for an answer. “He’s from a movie,” he explained.

“That thing isn’t even human,” Sirius laughed.

You laughed too, shrugging. “I mean he kinda is… and I thought he was cute ok?”

The boys shook their heads, if they didn’t understand the premise of this game before, they definitely didn’t now.

“Ok, ok,” Sirius said, “I’ll go next.” He picked out a picture and placed it next to yours.

“Sirius,” you said softly, “That’s a cat.” You stared at the picture of the gray tabby on the cake. And he had the audacity to poke fun at you for your ‘non-human’ character.

“Well,” Sirius began, “I didn’t have a picture of her so… this will have to do.”

“Didn’t have a picture of who?” James asked.

Sirius turned to James slightly. “Minnie.” He stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Sirius,” Remus sighed under his breath. James just burst into laughter, leaning on an unamused Remus for support. “What is wrong with you?”

You didn’t quite understand the joke, and you certainly didn't know who ‘Minnie’ was, but it was nice to see Remus and James giggle like that. Your plan was working, you were getting them all to loosen up a little.

James went next. He placed a picture of Princess Leia then stood back and said nothing. Maybe he didn’t get the rules of this little game. “James…” you began, “Why would we have to hear you out… she’s a conventionally attractive person.” you giggled.

He shrugged in reply. “But she's an alien right?” Oh but your ‘alien’ wasn’t ok… hypocrite.

“I mean, not really.” Remus said.

“Well she doesn't live on Earth.” James countered.

“Ok we are not arguing about Star Wars right now you nerds.” You laughed. “Go Remmy.” Remus placed an old photo of Jane Austen on the cake. “Wow… You really are a nerd.” you sighed. You stepped forward to go again.

You decided to play out your little prank on James now. You placed your picture on the cake and stepped back without a word, trying to contain your laughter. You caught the smile on Remus’s face.

“You want to explain that one?” Remus asked.

You shook your head. “Nope.” You answered.

It took all but a moment for James to realize who the picture was. “THAT’S MY DAD!” James yelled. There was a flash in your peripheral vision which turned out to be Sirius falling to the floor with laughter. You held it together for as long as you could, but the second James ripped the picture off the cake and turned back to you, you couldn’t help but giggle. 

“This is my dad!” James kept repeating, shaking the picture at you. Even Remus was chuckling behind you, Sirius on the floor almost in tears and clutching his stomach.

“Where did you even get this picture? What, I mean… How even?” James was at a complete loss for words and you were losing it. You would never tell him where you got it. Lily would get a kick out of this video for sure. 

“Well James,” Remus chuckled again from behind where you stood, nudging you aside softly to make his way back to the cake. “I have a feeling you’re not gonna like this one.” He placed a picture of a woman you didn’t know. She was beautiful, looked kind. 

For a second the room was quiet, James and Sirius trying to see who it was that Remus placed on the cake. Sirius burst into another fit of laughter as James shrieked “WHAT THE FUCK!”

You looked to Remus who was full on laughing now. James kicked Sirius in the leg. “Shut up! She’s basically your mother too.”

“Wait, that's James’s mother?” you said, quickly making your way over and plucking the picture off the cake, holding it out in front of you to compare it to James. You could see the resemblance now. You decided to play along with Remus now. “Huh, you know what Remmy, she is hot.” you giggled. If that were to come out of either Sirius or Remus, James definitely would have punched them.

Remus threw his hands up in defence. “She said it, not me.”

James shook his head, speechless. “Why.” was all he could get out.

“Well I couldn’t put Sirius’s mother, now could I?” Remus stated matter of factly. 

Sirius, who was still on the floor and struggling for breath, managed to wheeze out, “They did… all that… for a your mum joke…” He was definitely crying with laughter now.

“Oh no,” You said, the boys attention turning to you, “We didn’t work together on this.” you held out your hand in front of Remus and he took the hint, giving you a victorious high five. 

“Great minds just think alike,” Remus agreed with you.

James’s face was quite priceless, somewhere in between shocked and baffled. 

“I wanted to get back at you for scaring me the other day.” you explained to him. He seemed to come to understand, but still so confused and freaked out that you had a picture of his dad that you had never met.

James looked to Remus for his explanation, but Remus only smirked back at him. “I Just think your mum is hot.” Remus joked. James was on him in an instant, tackling him to the kitchen floor. Sirius had finally pulled himself together enough to sit up and start wiping the tears from his eyes. You sat next to Sirius on the floor and watched as James attempted to wrestle Remus to the ground, partially successful, but you could tell Remus was letting him win, his reward for putting up with you all calling his family hot.

You couldn’t wait to send this video to Lily.

if you've seen the tiktok I am referring to 💋 that is for you. I hope yall like this, its a short but sweet one.

taglist 💌: @too-efn-old-to-be-here @cometsghost @eeviee4 @giuli-in-earth @spicybearnaise @the-lavender-girl @adharalikethestar @champomiel @itsleroyposts @enamoredwithbella @babymash @ilovejamespottersomuch @liszblog @sammyreid @kiaslily @idkman5335 @willowlovestheweasleys @lady-balem @nislame @latenightreadingpdf @v-loves-frogs @meggishhhh @mooonyxoxo @sodavrr @notmonstersapocalipse @plk-18 @prettylittlewrites @darkloverfox @navs-bhat @lexi2005 @bache3 @koolayee

[enha-hype]

&team - period care ♡ (hyung line)

how each member deals with/reacts to different period symptoms

pairing: bf!&team x afab!reader

genre: fluff and lots of comfort

warnings: mentions of period blood, period pain, dizziness, crying, cursing

w.c.: around 500-700 for each member

a/n: if this doesn't flop i'll post part 2 with maknae line lol. also everybody cheer i wrote something for someone other than nichojoo! xD

🪐 euijoo (crying spells)

you wake up feeling like shit and wanting to cry for no particular reason other than that you're on your period and your hormones are all over the place. added to that was the fact that the space next to you on the bed was empty – your boyfriend was already up. which isn't unusual, euijoo had always been an early bird. however, on that particular morning you couldn't help but wish he was still in bed cuddling you – maybe then you would be feeling less shitty. you feel kind of offended although you know it isn't fair – how is he supposed to know what you want if you don't tell him?

(more under the cut!)

“juju?” you call out but there's no answer – he probably couldn't hear you. you groan and steel yourself to get out of bed; it's about time anyway.

you head to the bathroom to freshen up and do your morning duties and when you emerge from the bedroom you find euijoo in the kitchen making breakfast.

“good morning my love,” he greets you with his warm smile and the sight of him immediately makes you feel a little better. “if you've brushed your teeth have this while you wait. breakfast will be ready in 10!”

‘this’ refers to a bowl of peeled pomegranates sitting on the kitchen table. you look at it and then back at him. he peeled an entire pomegranate for you despite how time consuming and troublesome it must've been. AND he's making breakfast. and most importantly, he looks so damn happy doing it. as you stare at the bowl of pomegranates, you can feel your eyes starting to water and the tears spill over soon after.

“no no baby what's wrong? do you not like pomegranates? but they're good for you – especially on your period,” euijoo is by your side in a minute brushing the tears away.

the fact that he specifically looked up what foods are good on your period only makes you more emotional and you feel guilty for feeling upset at him for not staying in bed longer. when you're finally coherent enough for him to be able to understand what you're saying amidst your sobs, he lets out a frustrated chuckle of disbelief.

“that's why you're crying? god you had me worried for a bit there,” he says, hugging you to his chest.

“you're literally the sweetest ever...what did i do to deserve you?” you mumble.

“sweetheart that was the bare minimum,”

“not to me!” you sniffle, wondering what the hell the opposite of bare minimum was. “to me that was like– like, the grand maximum!”

he giggles at that. “alright, cutie. let's get you something to eat,”

*

after a morning of crying about peeled pomegranates, then about how delicious the breakfast was and then crying about all the crying, you've finally calmed down. you're lying on euijoo's lap and he's running his fingers through your hair with one hand replying to his texts using the other.

“it's very aptly named the orange peel theory, don't you think?” you ask.

“uhh but that was a pomegranate i peeled, not an orange...”

“yes but you're an orange,” you explain like it's the most obvious thing.

he stares blankly at you. “i'm...an orange?”

“uh huh,”

he gives in because really, what choice does he have? “whatever you say my love,”

🪐 fuma (dizziness)

murata fuma is an exceptionally calm and rational man. even when things don't work out or seem to be going downhill, he never panics and instead seeks to figure out what the next plan of action should be – because really, what good would freaking out do? not a lot of things scared him either, it was like the man had no weaknesses. he is one of the most level-headed people you know, and it's no wonder that people often came to him for advice – murata fuma is an exceptionally calm and rational man. except when it comes to you.

for your date today, you're at a mini concert hall to watch this indie rock band play. fuma has been obsessed with them ever since he discovered them a few months ago and after weeks of trying you were finally able to get tickets for today. there's just one tiny problem however – you're on your period, and you don't do well in crowded spaces during this time especially if you have to stand for a long period of time, like you have been for a while now.

fuma is of course not aware of this – as far as he knows your period is not due for another week. you know that if you had told him, he would've not only made you stay home but would've stayed back himself to take care of you and you didn't want to do that to him; you knew how excited he'd been for this.

and so here you both are. you're only halfway through the concert and you're already regretting it. you've been standing for over an hour now and you badly want to – no, need to sit down. you feel kind of breathless and you're sweating but your body also feels weirdly cool at the same time. the music and the screaming around you start to sound like they're coming from far away and you sway on the spot. the last thing your eyes register before you black out is fuma’s panicked eyes.

when you come to, it takes you a minute to figure out where you are – on the couch in the waiting area outside near the receptionist’s desk. worry is etched into your boyfriend's features as he hovers over you along with two other people you don't recognise.

“oh good they're awake. yeah it looks like they just need some air,” one of them says.

fuma helps you sit up and you avoid meeting his eyes; you're mortified.

“how are you feeling?” he asks gently.

you nod and smile sheepishly. “i'm okay now, it just felt a little suffocating in there is all,”

he studies you carefully like he isn't convinced and you notice beads of sweat drying on his forehead. after fuma has thanked and bid adieu to the two strangers who had been kind enough to help your boyfriend who had apparently been running around like a headless chicken after you fainted, he comes to you and envelopes you in a hug so tight you think you might pass out again.

“please don't do that ever again oh my god i swear my heart stopped that was the most distressing 10 minutes of my life. it felt like it lasted forever,”

you chuckle weakly and pat his back comfortingly. “it's a pity i wasn't conscious to see it,”

he pulls back and gives you a stern and disappointed look. “that's not funny, y/n,”

“okay yeah i'm sorry i made you panic. i should've told you the truth, it was stupid,”

“incredibly stupid. i can't believe you thought i would care about a stupid concert more than you,”

“well no it's actually because i knew you would care more about me being okay that i didn't tell you. i wanted you to have a fun time since you've been working so hard lately,”

“any time i spend with you is fun. i don't need to go to a concert for fun,” he grumbles.

“you know what i mean though,”

he crosses his arms across his chest. “no i don't. and you know what? you've just lost walking privileges for the next two days for lying to me and then passing out,”

“i've lost wa– what? fuma don't be ridiculous,”

“it's no more ridiculous than what you just did,” he retorts obstinately.

and he was actually serious about it – he carried you bridal style to the car and then from the car to your apartment and he wouldn't even put you down inside the elevator; he waited until he got to your shared bedroom. and even though you assured him you were fine he proceeded to fuss over you for the next couple of days, not letting you step out of the house without his “supervision”.

🪐 kei (muscle pain)

it's the second day of your period and your legs are hurting more than usual because you had had to stand for hours at the conference at work earlier today. while the pain isn't exactly unbearable, it's still bad enough that sleep keeps evading you. you roll over and look at the clock on the side table – it's 12.47 am. the longer you stay awake, the less well-rested you'll be tomorrow. you have to be up in 5 hours. tears of frustration make their way down your cheeks.

not wanting to disturb your boyfriend kei who is peacefully asleep beside you, you get out of bed and make your way to the couch in the living room. you flop down and try massaging your legs, sniffling quietly.

kei stirs awake a little while later. he reaches an arm out sleepily to pull you close but when he finds the bed empty he immediately sits up.

“y/n?” he calls out, his voice thick with sleep. he walks out to the living room and sees your hunched figure on the couch and frowns. he's about to switch on the light when he hears you sniffle and freezes. he stands there for a few seconds listening to you cry, his heart slowly breaking. he wonders why you ever felt like you couldn't come to him with whatever was troubling you.

he turns on the light and makes his way to you as you quickly wipe your face and try to seem okay. he wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder.

“what's wrong?” he asks softly.

“it's nothing. just a bit of muscle pain. i'll be fine in a while, kei. go back to bed.”

kei is not having it. he scoops you up off the couch effortlessly and carries you back to your room, ignoring your weak protests. “is it because of your period? why didn't you wake me?” he asks while he lays you down gently on the bed.

“it's really not that serious, babe. besides it's late and you have work tomorrow,”

“so? you do too. and if anything you need to sleep more than i do.”

“it's really not that big of a deal...” you start to say and kei gives you a disappointed look. he sighs and doesn't say anything further, just quietly massages your legs. but dang does the man have magic hands. his strong hands skillfully knead your leg muscles and you can feel the pain slowly fading away. you could cry tears of relief. you sigh contentedly and mumble a thank you, holding out your arms for a hug but he ignores you. “kei?”

“do you not trust me?”

the question catches you off guard. “what?”

“you never come to me when you're in pain...” he sounds so dejected.

“oh, love,” you sit up and scooch closer to him. “of course i trust you. it's just– you're always taking care everyone else and–”

“because i like taking care of the people i love. and i love you the most. but you never let me do anything for you even though you're always taking care of me and i don't know, it sometimes feels like you don't trust me enough to be vulnerable with me…” his voice cracks on the last syllable and you want to kick yourself.

you never meant to make him feel this way. he was always the one taking care of those around him so in your relationship at least you wanted him to be on the receiving end which is why you tried never to burden him with your problems, big or small. but you were so caught up in what you thought was best for him that you didn't consider how he might feel about it.

“i'm sorry, i didn't realise how that must make you feel, love. i trust you more than i trust anyone, of course you're the one i always want to run to no matter what. so from now that's what i'll do, okay?”

“you promise?”

“i do,” you seal it with a soft kiss on his pout, which makes him smile. he massages you until you fall asleep, and snuggles up next to you soon after.

🪐 nicholas (staining)

you wake up to the unmistakable feeling of blood soaking through your underwear onto your pants and you yeet yourself out of bed as fast as you can praying it hasn't gotten on the covers as well – you're at your boyfriend nicho's place.

but luck was not on your side – there's a coin-sized dark red stain on the light blue sheet. fucking great. you cannot believe this. how on earth did you manage to bleed through not one but two extra large pads?! god kill me. you make your way to the bathroom as quietly as possible so as not to wake your boyfriend – you know how much he loves to sleep and how grumpy he gets when he's woken up. granted, he doesn't mind as much when it's you but you still don't want to disturb him.

you clean yourself up, grateful you had brought an extra pair of underwear and night pants for your stay. then you wet a piece of cloth and head back, leaving the bathroom door open just a sliver so there's enough light for you to see. you lift the stained part of the sheet a little so it doesn't stain the mattress and proceed to rub the wet cloth against it so you can at least get the blood off of it – you know it'll be much harder to clean once it dries – and you can't very well strip the entire sheet off the mattress with your boyfriend still sleeping. and god, does he look so incredibly adorable.

the stain looks significantly much lighter now, and you head back to the bathroom to rinse the cloth out and apply a drop of detergent liquid to it. you glance at the clock on your way – it's 2:14 am. you groan internally. you can't even go straight to bed after this because you will also have to wash the bloody mess that's your underwear and pants. you had triple checked to make sure everything was leak-proof before bed but there's only so much you can do when your body apparently likes ejecting copious amounts of blood for no good reason. and now you're stuck dealing with the aftermath when all you really wanna do is collapse and never wake up for a week but you can't and are now questioning whether a uterus is really worth having or if you can just rip it out. you're so preoccupied thinking about all this while washing up at the bathroom sink that you don't notice nicholas standing at the bathroom door watching you until he speaks up.

“that's a lot of blood...”

you meet his alarmed eyes in the mirror. “oh shit oh fuck i'm so sorry nicho i didn't mean to wake you or for you to see this and i'm so sorry it got on the sheets as well- just a little but i'm still sorry i swear i don't–”

“hey hey hey babe shhh it's okay, stop apologising,” he places his hands on your shoulders and gently squeezes to halt your anxious rambling. you look close to tears and it breaks his heart. “why are you even apologising baby? i said that's a lot of blood in the sense that i was worried - is it normal for you to be bleeding that much?”

“well, um sometimes i guess but– wait are you sure? you're not mad?”

“why on earth would i be mad?” he looks a little hurt that you would think that.

“because i got blood on your sheets...”

“so? that can be washed,”

“i also woke you up...and you love sleep....”

he cups your face. “i love you more, dumbass. if anything i'm just mad you didn't wake me sooner - i could've helped you clean up,”

you stare at your boyfriend, taking in his bleary eyes and his hair sticking up in all directions and the earnest sincerity in what he just said. you didn't think it was possible to love him more than you already did but here you are.

divider credits: @/enchanthings-a

[bethanydelleman]

One criticism of Jane Austen is that she ignored the lower classes. I find this kind of dumb on multiple levels, primarily because not every work of fiction or social criticism needs to include every single social ill, but also because she does talk about servants/the lower classes quite a bit more than people realize and what she says is important.

The overall theme: kindness to servants/the lower classes/the poor is a very important mark of character.

We all know that Elizabeth Bennet changed her mind about Mr. Darcy after hearing a positive character reference from his housekeeper, but that is just one example of many. The Dashwood girls are better employers than John & Fanny since they easily find servants to move across the country with them: Her wisdom too limited the number of their servants to three; two maids and a man, with whom they were speedily provided from amongst those who had formed their establishment at Norland. Also, servants tended to brag about having wealthy employers, these three servants wanted both a far away and a less prestigious job. John & Fanny were really that bad!

Another mark against General Tilney's character is that he gets irrationally angry at/scares servants:

To such anxious attention was the General’s civility carried, that not aware of her extraordinary swiftness in entering the house, he was quite angry with the servant whose neglect had reduced her to open the door of the apartment herself. “What did William mean by it? He should make a point of inquiring into the matter.” And if Catherine had not most warmly asserted his innocence, it seemed likely that William would lose the favour of his master forever, if not his place, by her rapidity.

“Why! How can you ask the question? Because no time is to be lost in frightening my old housekeeper out of her wits, because I must go and prepare a dinner for you, to be sure.” (Henry, on his father coming to his house for a visit. This may be half a joke, but General Tilney is very critical of the meal)

Mrs. Ferrars's character is made quite plain in this complaint about paying annuities (basically a pension here) to some of her husband's old servants:

I have known a great deal of the trouble of annuities; for my mother was clogged with the payment of three to old superannuated servants by my father’s will, and it is amazing how disagreeable she found it. Twice every year these annuities were to be paid; and then there was the trouble of getting it to them; and then one of them was said to have died, and afterwards it turned out to be no such thing. My mother was quite sick of it. Her income was not her own, she said, with such perpetual claims on it; and it was the more unkind in my father, because, otherwise, the money would have been entirely at my mother’s disposal, without any restriction whatever.

Mrs. Ferrars is loaded, and she begrudges paying a few pounds to 3 servants. She is greedy and ungrateful.

Mrs. Norris's treatment of the servants is similar to her treatment of Fanny. It shows the depth of her miserliness (how much could one boy really eat?) and also cruelty:

"I had been looking about me in the poultry-yard, and was just coming out, when who should I see but Dick Jackson making up to the servants’ hall-door with two bits of deal board in his hand, bringing them to father, you may be sure; mother had chanced to send him of a message to father, and then father had bid him bring up them two bits of board, for he could not no how do without them. I knew what all this meant, for the servants’ dinner-bell was ringing at the very moment over our heads; and as I hate such encroaching people (the Jacksons are very encroaching, I have always said so: just the sort of people to get all they can), I said to the boy directly (a great lubberly fellow of ten years old, you know, who ought to be ashamed of himself), ‘I’ll take the boards to your father, Dick, so get you home again as fast as you can.’ The boy looked very silly, and turned away without offering a word, for I believe I might speak pretty sharp; and I dare say it will cure him of coming marauding about the house for one while. I hate such greediness—so good as your father is to the family, employing the man all the year round!”

It also highlights her hypocrisy, as Mrs. Norris has moved in during the play to help with the preparations, so she is getting free meals all week but she won't let this kid eat when he's helping his father (who is building the stage for the play)

Mr. Knightley considers the common people of Highbury before moving a path, even though he likely owns all of the land and can do whatever he wants:

"But John, as to what I was telling you of my idea of moving the path to Langham, of turning it more to the right that it may not cut through the home meadows, I cannot conceive any difficulty. I should not attempt it, if it were to be the means of inconvenience to the Highbury people, but if you call to mind exactly the present line of the path"

The kind Musgroves, who have given their nursemaid a retirement plan instead of turning her out:

A chaise was sent for from Crewkherne, and Charles conveyed back a far more useful person in the old nursery-maid of the family, one who having brought up all the children, and seen the very last, the lingering and long-petted Master Harry, sent to school after his brothers, was now living in her deserted nursery to mend stockings and dress all the blains and bruises she could get near her, and who, consequently, was only too happy in being allowed to go and help nurse dear Miss Louisa.

And who clearly are rewarded for this kindness.

Anne Elliot showing kindness to Mrs. Smith, who has nearly fallen right out of the gentry, vs. her fathers disdain for charity:

“Westgate Buildings!” said he, “and who is Miss Anne Elliot to be visiting in Westgate Buildings? A Mrs Smith. A widow Mrs Smith; and who was her husband? One of five thousand Mr Smiths whose names are to be met with everywhere. And what is her attraction? That she is old and sickly. Upon my word, Miss Anne Elliot, you have the most extraordinary taste! Everything that revolts other people, low company, paltry rooms, foul air, disgusting associations are inviting to you. But surely you may put off this old lady till to-morrow: she is not so near her end, I presume, but that she may hope to see another day. What is her age? Forty?”

Added to Sir Walter and Elizabeth's idea to cut expenses:

“Can we retrench? Does it occur to you that there is any one article in which we can retrench?” and Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first ardour of female alarm, set seriously to think what could be done, and had finally proposed these two branches of economy, to cut off some unnecessary charities, and to refrain from new furnishing the drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards added the happy thought of their taking no present down to Anne, as had been the usual yearly custom."

Vs. how the Crofts treat the poor:

She could have said more on the subject; for she had in fact so high an opinion of the Crofts, and considered her father so very fortunate in his tenants, felt the parish to be so sure of a good example, and the poor of the best attention and relief, that however sorry and ashamed for the necessity of the removal, she could not but in conscience feel that they were gone who deserved not to stay, and that Kellynch Hall had passed into better hands than its owners’.

Henry Crawford's moral fall begins with ignoring the needs of his tenants:

"I have half an idea of going into Norfolk again soon. I am not satisfied about Maddison. I am sure he still means to impose on me if possible, and get a cousin of his own into a certain mill, which I design for somebody else. I must come to an understanding with him. I must make him know that I will not be tricked on the south side of Everingham, any more than on the north: that I will be master of my own property... I have a great mind to go back into Norfolk directly, and put everything at once on such a footing as cannot be afterwards swerved from. Maddison is a clever fellow; I do not wish to displace him, provided he does not try to displace me; but it would be simple to be duped by a man who has no right of creditor to dupe me, and worse than simple to let him give me a hard-hearted, griping fellow for a tenant, instead of an honest man, to whom I have given half a promise already. Would it not be worse than simple? Shall I go? Do you advise it?”

Of course, Henry does not go to Everginham, as he knows is right, but instead goes to the party in London, where he again runs into Maria...

Yes, Austen didn't write servants/the lower classes as full characters in general, they are in the background and around the edges of the scenes, but over and over, we can sort characters into moral and immoral by their treatment of those less fortunate around them.

[lavenders388]

HII!!

could we please get some kang dae ho x reader??

something where he’s a bit of his usual himbo self and the reader is maybe a bit airheaded— something about two people being in love with one another while the world around them is burning is amazing.

~Flowers in December~

<3 Kang Dae Ho x Reader

requested 💌

authors note: i am amazed by the amount of requests and also so flattered!! I am so happy to get back into writing not only for myself but to be able to make other people happy to see their ideas come to life!! i apologize if this has some flaws i cant wait to get more practice in and promise the next will be better!! feedback is always appreciated! thank you all so much!!<3 -matcha

~~~~~~~~~~~⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆~~~~~~~~~~~

...

~takes place during the second night~

"we should all take turns keeping watch over the group" player 456 urged as the warning for lights out echoed throughout the room, the rest of the group silently agreeing- trusting the man who claimed to have been in one of the previous games, leaving as the sole survivor. you were, as were many others, reluctant to believe that he had done all of this before, but after his help in the first game and joining his team for the second, you grew to trust him; and the other members of your group. the man that had been assigned your partner for keeping watch was coincidentally a member you were drawn to specifically- at first because he was close to your age, his boyish face making you feel a little less scared and alone in the second game, and eventually you appreciated his outward personality and kindhearted confidence, a stark contrast to the situation you both were in. as you sat together, although trying to protect your group from whatever could happen in the dark room, you felt even safer. "how in the world did you pull that off?" you broke the silence with a whisper, referring to him playing gonggi in the previous game. "my hands were shaking so badly i could barely even hold my ddakji." he laughs, a bit louder than he should have given the people sleeping, but it made you smile. "i told you all i played with my sisters!" he chuckles. "you said you know how to do it yeah," you retorted, stifling a giggle at him being unaware of the compliment. "you didn't tell us you were amazing at it, that was a surprise." he turns away, embarrassed of how deeply your compliment made him grin and scared you'd see him blushing even in the dark. "thank you y/n." he says bashfully as he regains his composure. the silence returns; the reality of where you're both having this conversation threatening to creep back in. his gaze softens as he turns to you again, "you did really well with your ddakji you know, doing it the first try is really impressive, especially given the circumstances." you smile, a toothy grin as not only are you proud of yourself but you appreciate the compliment; especially from him. the kind, authentic way he states how good you did has you unable to find a response. "t-thank you" you say, blushing and still smiling. "it helped that nobody was there, i get nervous when people are watching me." his demeanor changes. he nervously runs his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry if i made you nervous, y/n" he says sincerely. your confusion shows on your face until you realize what he means. "oh no don't worry! i meant the crowd, like how everybody was cheering for the other teams! i didn't want them all to see if i messed up. you watching me helped actually. it made me less nervous." the silence returns; comfortingly. you've forgotten where you are, you've forgotten what would have happened if you'd messed up, all that's on your mind is the man sitting next to you. when you look back he's staring at you. smiling. "thank you for being on my team." you say to him as he turns away, trying to hide how long he was looking at you. you've never seen him speechless before. "if we work together nothing can stand in our way." he said to you just as he said to jung bae before the game. "i am truly honored you feel that way." you half-joke. "what are your plans for tomorrow?" you ask as if youre speaking to him in a normal situation. "oh wait im sorry!" you laugh. "well i bet they're the same as mine then!" you joke about your forgetfulness as well as making light of where you find yourself. like hes done for you, he also had forgotten the events of the day and what followed tomorrow. the two of you talking made him feel as though he was living a good, normal day. it was greatly appreciated by him, your bubbly nature being a moment of solace.

a/n if this is buns at all please lmk what i can do better!!! ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

[kathryn-maraudersversion]

Serpents and Stars Part 5

Summary: You’ve run from them. You’ve fought them. You’ve denied everything. But you have one last card to play if you push them away hard enough, maybe they’ll finally give up on you. Maybe you’ll finally be safe. (Spoiler: You won’t.)

Pairing: Poly!Marauders (James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin) x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Warnings: One sided arguments.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt11

Run. Run far away.

That was the thought screaming in your head.

If you ruined this, ruined them before they could ruin you, then it wouldn’t matter what you felt.

It wouldn’t matter that James made your heart race.

It wouldn’t matter that Sirius made your skin burn.

It wouldn’t matter that Remus made your chest ache.

So, you did the only thing you could. You sharpened your words into knives, and you stabbed them where it would hurt most.

You caught them in the Gryffindor common room after dinner.

James was sprawled on the couch, laughing as Sirius tossed a pillow at Remus, who barely looked up from his book.

They looked so at ease. So right and something in you snapped.

James noticed you first. His expression lit up. “Sweetheart, what-”

“Enough,” you cut him off.

The warmth in his eyes flickered.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “What’s got your knickers in a twist, love?”

You took a breath. Don’t let them in. Don’t let them see.

“I need you to stop,” you said, voice cold. “All of you.”

James sat up. “Stop what?”

“This. The flirting. The pet names. The stupid, constant presence in my life.” You forced a sneer. “It’s getting pathetic.”

Silence.

Remus finally looked up, his amber eyes carefully blank.

Sirius’ smirk faltered for the first time.

James just stared.

But you weren’t done. You looked at James, aiming for the one thing you knew would cut. “I will never love you.”

James actually flinched. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he was trying not to reach for something. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.” You crossed your arms. “You’re nothing but a spoiled, arrogant Gryffindor who thinks he can have anything he wants just by flashing a smile. But you can’t have me.”

James opened his mouth, but no words came out.

You turned to Sirius.

“And you.” You let your gaze rake over him in disgust. “You act like you’re some charming, irresistible rebel, but deep down, you’re just a scared little rich boy desperate for attention.”

Sirius went completely still.

Your stomach twisted. You knew how much he hated his family. You knew what that would do to him. But you needed them to hate you. You forced yourself to keep going.

Finally, you turned to Remus.

And for the first time, you hesitated.

Because Remus was just looking at you.

Not angry. Not hurt. Just knowing.

So, you made your voice cruel.

“You’re the worst of them all,” you said, your tone ice. “Because at least James and Sirius are obvious about what they want. But you?” You tilted your head. “You hide behind quiet words and kind smiles, like you’re any better. But you’re just as selfish. You think you can make me feel safe? Make me trust you?”

You let out a cold laugh.

“You’re just a monster waiting to show his teeth.”

The words hung in the air. The fire crackled.

And for the first time in forever, the Marauders had nothing to say. You had done it. You had won. So why did you feel like you had just lost everything?

You avoided them. Properly this time.

No stolen glances. No hesitation.

You ignored the way James didn’t smile in the hallways anymore.

You ignored the way Sirius wasn’t everywhere like he used to be.

You ignored the way Remus had stopped looking at you like he already knew the truth.

You ignored everything and for three days, you thought it was over.

Until, on the fourth day, James Potter cornered you in the empty Transfiguration classroom and everything fell apart.

Authors note: I might have possibly put a frozen reference in here. Also sorry this one is kinda depressing the next couple are too.

Tags: @amatoanima @flaviaandbooks @nymanas @maraudersgirlsposts @yvessentials @bridkesby @treefairy-28 @navs-bhat @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @zoleea-exultant @hermionelove @starmaniii @kitcat912 @hopperbopper

[luvf4ngz]

Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together

grim reaper! jason todd

Description: Your constant close calls with death first captures the attention of the Grim Reaper, then his heart, and lastly, his devotions.

Contents: Female Reader, Mentions Of Death/Dying, References to Greek Mythology, Possessiveness, You Watch Pretty Woman and Read Pride & Prejudice Together Bc Yeah, Mentions Of Isolation But It’s Okay I Promise, Jason Is Lowkey Lonely And Desperate, Reader Has A Death Wish? Maybe?, Praise Kink, SO MUCH PRAISE, Unprotected Sex, Religious Symbolisms, Sacrilege?, Nipple Play, Jason Calls You Princess, Obviously???, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, (Female Receiving), He’s So In Love, Jason Todd Is Touch Starved, Devotion, Jason Is A Munch, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Yes Greek Gods Wear Boxers, Enthusiastic Consent, “Will it fit?” I’m Sorry Okay, Size Kink, Jason Todd Has A Big Dick, Gentle Dom Jason Todd, Intimate Sex, Slow Sex, Soft Sex, Aftercare, Cuddling

Word Count: 6081

Author’s Note: Jason is loosely based off of Thanatos from Greek Mythology/Hades (the game). It was kind of hard infusing his personality with the literal personification of Death, but I hope I did a good job! Also some details are completely made up or changed for the purpose of the fics, like how dying works in Greek Mythos. Please don’t come for me, I’m just trying to be horny on the internet. Without furthermore, please enjoy :)

Actually one more thing I have a Thanatos/Death playlist and I adore it to bits, please listen if you want.

Thank you @toruslvt for beta-reading!

He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him. 

"Yet another brush with death." You heard a husky voice beside you, making you turn your head to look at the figure sheepishly. 

Whether you’re extremely unlucky or just unfathomably reckless, he’s not sure. All he knows is that your soul has been on the edge of being his over and over again - whether it was narrowly missing a car or falling into a river or even just choking on a bone. You always seem to make it out of those situations just fine, which has thoroughly caught his attention. 

 "You should really be more careful, you know." He looked at you and sighed. 

“I am! Or at least I try to be...” You murmur timidly, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s uh, it’s nice to see you again.” You give him a small smile, turning your body to face him. 

As always, he’s in his dark cloak, the hood lifted to conceal some of his hair, casting a shadow over his face. The gold accents adorning his body glint due to the faint sunlight casting through your kitchen window, the same sunlight making his tan skin glow, making him look otherworldly - which he was. 

He raised his eyebrow, “Is it now? Most people are terrified to see me.” He muttered, smirking a bit,

“I guess I’m used to you now.” Your grin gets a bit larger, warmer. “You don’t have your scythe.” You point out.

He lets out a slight chuckle at your observation, “Such a keen eye. I figured I wouldn’t need it, and I was right. What was it this time?”

Your face heats with embarrassment at the question. “I slipped.” You confess, pointing to the puddle of water on the ground. “Almost cracked my head open, I guess. But! I turned my body in time, so I’m fine.”

“Yes, that would explain your wet clothes.” His eyes trail down your body, catching slightly where your nipples peek out against the damp fabric, before looking back up to your face.

He clears his throat, “Haven’t you learned your lesson by now? It’s not even lunch time yet and you were on the brink of death. Aren’t you afraid of dying?” He scolds you.

“I mean, not really.” 

A pause of silence.

“What? You’re joking, right? How can you be so cavalier about this?”

“I don’t know, it doesn't seem so bad. It’s a natural part of life. Should I be scared?” 

“What kind of question is that?!” He raises his voice slightly, eyebrows scrunched as he looks at you. “Of course, you should be. Dying isn’t fun. You’ll be dead, trapped in the underworld for the rest of eternity. You should be trying to preserve your life while you still have it.”

“I am, though. I’m not saying I don’t like being alive, I’m just saying, when it happens, it’ll happen. There’s no use being so pre-cautious and anxious all the time.”

He lets out a huff, “You are… certainly a strange one.”

“In any case, I’d like to think my soul will go to Elysium. I'm a pretty good person, so I think the afterlife won’t be too awful for me.” You continue on, carefree.

"That isn't my point, though. Even if you're guaranteed a place in Elysium, you should still be more vigilant.”

“Why should I be? My end is already predetermined, isn’t it? Don’t the fates know when my time is up?”

“Well… yes, but-”

“Wait, then how come you visit me before I actually die?” You interrupt him, a realization suddenly taking place. “Near death experiences shouldn't summon you right?”

He hesitates a bit, caught. "You’re correct… I visit you on my own accord.”

“Why?” You tilt your head cutely, an innocent and puzzled look in your eyes.

“You’ve just caught my attention, is all.” He looks away. “I like to keep track of you, the Fates are wrong sometimes, and you basically have a death wish so I just… I like to make sure you’re okay.”

You smile slightly at his words, “You don’t want me to die?”

“Of course, I don’t. I like- I like to watch you. You’re interesting to me.” He chooses his words carefully.

“I am?” Your eyes brighten a bit at his words.

He turns back to you and nods, his hood shifting a bit with his movement, revealing a bit more of his hair. The white streak catches your attention. 

“I have to confess it’s… cute the amount of trouble you manage to get yourself into. It’s entertaining to see what you get up to, how you treat others, what you desire out of life.” His eyes move to look into yours. “Your mentality is quite unique, as well. You see dying as natural and not something to be feared, but I think you've accepted it to an… abnormal degree." He paused. "...You're the first person in a very long time to not express fear of me.”

“Why would anyone be afraid? You're only doing your job... and you're quite nice." 

He laughs, the deep rumble of his voice goes straight to your knees. "I think you're the first person to ever call the God of Death ‘nice’. You wouldn't believe the amount of people that fear me, even before their time is up. It's... exhausting, really. I can always hear their prayers, their cries, their pleads.”

"I mean I can’t blame them, I just can't share the same sentiment, especially with all the conversations that we've had."

He smiles at you, “You really are like a breath of fresh air. It’s nice to know that someone doesn’t hate me.” He pauses again, a soft look in his eyes. “But you should still be careful. You're not made of rubber after all. Don’t let me take you earlier than I should.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad, though.”

“What?” In such a short time, you’ve shocked him again.

“I wouldn’t mind dying knowing that you'll be the one waiting for me.” You say it so casually, continuing to smile at him, as if it wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever uttered to him. His heart beats a little faster as he stares down at you, stupefied. 

“You can’t mean that.” He replies after a while. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He’s speechless, dumb-founded. How could he possibly begin to explain that the idea of anyone liking him enough to allow him to take them from this world so happily was absurd?

“What?” You ask, noticing his sudden silence. “Why’s that so strange? I like talking to you, and when I’m in the afterlife you would keep me company, right?”

He lets out a breath and smiles a bit, the whites of his teeth peeking out behind the pink of his lips. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sound appealing.”

“Good.” You smile a little wider, your eyes crinkling as it makes his heart begin to race now. 

“I-I should get going, there’s uh- souls I need to get to.” He stutters out.

“Yeah, that sounds important. I should clean up with water. I’ll see you around uh… Mister Grim Reaper, sir.”

He lets out an amused huff. “Jason. Just call me Jason.”

“Will do.” You jokingly salute him, and it makes him let out another chortle. 

“Alright, farewell then.” He nods, before blinking out of your kitchen. 

You stare at the space he used to occupy for a bit, still smiling softly, before leaving to get a mop - and maybe a change of clothes.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow as you stare at him from the couch. 

“Yes.” He replies simply, his eyes and attention focus on the movie playing on your TV.

His visits have been more and more frequent lately, ever since the conversation the both of you shared in your kitchen. Now, Death, who prefers the name Jason, shows up even if you didn’t go through another life-threatening event. 

And right in this moment, Jason is standing in front of your couch, entirely enraptured by Pretty Woman, of all things. 

“Don’t you have to do your duty? I’m sure there’s a lot of lost, wandering souls right now.” You try again, concerned. 

“What? You don’t want me here?”

“I didn’t say that!” You put your hands up in defense. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble or something. Won’t Hades or the Fates or… whoever your superior is get angry?”

“Probably.” He shrugs. “But what are they going to do? Kill me?” He casts you a glance from the corner of his eyes, before going back to the movie. “Besides, souls can’t leave the mortal body without me being there. They’ll just rest for a bit, I can always come get them after.”

“I guess that’s fine then.” You sigh out. “Could you at least sit down?” 

Jason lets out a nod, before moving to the couch, taking a seat beside you but still keeping his distance. 

He watches the rest of the movie in silence beside you, enjoying your company. His eyes flick over to admire you a few times, taking in your immersed gaze and noticing the way you’re clutching a plushie so close to you (cute). When you sniffle, when a few tears trail down your face, when your parted lips form a pout at the ending, his heart pumps hard in his chest. 

This was a much better use of his time. 

“You have so many books.” Jason states, his figure crouched so that he could properly read all the titles. His hood is off, fully revealing his soft, dark hair - the white streak a beautiful contrast. 

“Who’s the observant one, now?” You chuckle from your place on the bed, eyes not leaving the novel in your hands. 

He rolls his eyes, “What are you reading?”

“Pride and Prejudice.” You hum softly, eyes still scanning the page. 

“What’s that about?” Jason asks, walking away from the bookshelf and towards you. 

“Uh, it’s a little complicated.” You murmur, “But basically it’s two people learning to get over their, well, pride and prejudices to fall in love.” 

He lets out a hum, “Read it to me?” 

“Oh my Gods, you’re so lucky, I just got to the best part.” Your eyes watch him as he lays down beside you on your bed, the fabric of his black cloak pooling around his body. 

“Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began: ‘In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression.” 

Jason turned to his side in order to get a better view of you. He watches how your eyes practically light up as you read, a smile gracing your face. He can’t help but think how pretty you look like this. 

“She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. UGH, it’s so romantic!” You yell out, clutching the book to your chest and rolling back and forth slightly, making him let out a chuckle at your antics. “I mean at this point in the book I still hate Darcy but Gods, the way it’s written is just so good!” 

He falls silent for a bit, his gaze affectionate as he watches you. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

You stop your giddy reactions, looking at him curiously. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you remember when you said you wanted to be with me in the afterlife?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?”

He took a deep breath. "Let's say... let's just pretend for a moment, that when you die... I don't guide you to the afterlife. Instead, I take you somewhere else with me."

You sit up slightly, pushing yourself up on your arms, turning your body to face him. “Where would we go?” You set your book aside on the nightstand. 

“To… my home. I have a residence on the outskirts of Tartarus. You would be safe there, I can make sure that nothing would bother you.” He sits up fully, grabbing and holding your hands gently. “Please, I want you to stay with me. I get so lonely, and I just- I like being around you.” His tone is soft, pleading and sincere as he confesses his desires to you.

You smile back at him, eyes crinkling softly in that way that he’s come to adore. “I’d like that.”

“Really?” He gasps out, face mirroring yours as a bright smile overtakes his features.

“Mhm,” You hum, “It’ll take some time, though.”

He shakes his head, hands gripping yours a bit tighter, “I would wait the entire rest of eternity for you, if I had to.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to not make you wait that long.” You giggle out.

“I’d hope not. I want to have you with me, I want to keep you around until the end of time itself.” 

“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyones ever said to me, Jay.” Your tone is light, teasing. 

“There’s a catch though,” He pauses, hesitant to see your reactions. “You won’t be able to leave the house or see anyone else. I can’t risk you getting found. B-but I get you anything you need, I can make you happy.”

“That sounds just fine to me.” 

His eyes glisten in happiness, a bright shine in them. “Then... it's settled. I will take you to my home, and you will stay with me… forever.” His glances down to your lips for a second, before quickly looking back into your eyes. 

You notice the movement, heart beating a bit faster.

“Could I kiss you?” He whispers, his voice low and warm. 

“Yeah,” You mumble back.

He leans in closer, hands releasing yours as one places itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to his body as the other gently grips your chin. He leans down, tilting your head up until he feels the soft press of his lips to yours. Warmth floods his body as he feels electricity in the air, and he feels his heart pound behind his ribcage when your own arms wrap around his neck.

Your touch, your taste, was addicting. You were tender and sweet, and Jason never wanted this moment to end. He groans when he feels your hand begin to play with his hair, and he presses himself closer to you, both hands moving to grip your waist. 

His grip tightened on you as your kiss intensified, his body started to tremble as it filled with a desire so deep that it was all-consuming. 

Eventually you break apart from him, needing air. He dismays at having to pull away, but allows you to do so.

"If that's what's waiting for me at the end of my life, maybe I do want to die sooner…” You joke, breathless.

He groans again, “Don’t… don’t say that. Don’t tempt me, I can’t take it.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of your breaths mingling together.

You giggle, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him again. He relents easily, his heart skipping when you hum softly against his lips, the desire in his body igniting higher and higher. 

Eventually, he’s the one to pull away, his breath tickling you as he trails his nose against your neck. He can feel the soft tremor in your breath as your body shivers against his. “Can we go further?” He murmurs into the skin.

“Yeah, I want more.” You nod.

“Good, I do too. I want all of you.” He begins to press his lips to your neck, lightly leaving kisses and bites that you have squirming and gasping. 

“You have me.”

“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You... you don't know how much I've been longing for you. Your presence alone gives me joy. Having you touch me… it makes my heart pound and my body melt. The way you talk, the sounds you make... it’s perfect. I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I want to know everything about you. I want all of you.”

“You can have that too…” You sighed out. 

“You drive me crazy.” He groans, leaning close again to kiss you deeply, caressing the sides of your body. He wasn't holding back anymore. He couldn't. He wanted you so much that it ached in his bones. His hands started sliding slowly but surely, caressing your back and waist. He couldn't get enough of you, and your body’s twitching and the sound of your heavy breaths was such a thrilling sensation that he was consumed by it entirely.

“Jason…” You pant out his name as you experimentally grind your body against his, whining when you feel his hard cock rub against your clothed cunt, your hands holding him tighter. 

The sound drove him crazy with arousal, his body wracked with longing. You felt so good and he couldn't help but lean into you more, allowing you to press against him over and over and over. The feeling of heat was flooding his entire being, his cock throbbing beneath his cloak.

He worships the feeling of you grinding against him for a few more moments, his breath coming out in husky pants before he rolls you onto your back, hovering above you. 

"Just be a good girl and let me do all the work, now." His voice is husky, needy, as he leaned down and kissed your neck again, his breath hot and his body trembling with anticipation. 

You whine again, rubbing your thighs together to relieve the sudden ache between them. Your eagerness spurs him on, he presses a peck to your cheek before sitting back on his knees to gaze down at you. 

“Gods, you’re gorgeous.” He mutters, his hand slips up your shirt a little, and he shivers at the instant warmth of your skin. “Can I take this off?”

You nod rapidly, quickly pulling off your top and tossing it aside, revealing yourself to him.

Jason responds by leaning down to litter kisses over your body, a flush on his cheeks. His lips are soft and reverent almost as they softly touch your heated skin. He takes your nipple into his mouth sucking slightly, as a hand comes up to tweak and roll the other one. 

“Jay…” You call out his name, your back arching slightly,  and he never wants to stop hearing your voice. 

“I got you, princess.”

He lowers his mouth, trailing down your body until he reaches the hem of your bottoms. “Can I take this off, too?” 

“Do anything you want, Jay.” You breathe out, head dizzy with your need.

“You sure?” He asks, fingers hooking into both your pajama pants and underwear, dragging them down your body, uncovering inch after inch of your naked body. 

You look like a dream under him, eyes blown with lust, lips parted, body bare for him as you nod. He sets your clothes aside, going back to relishing you. 

You look away softly from embarrassment, “You take off your clothes, too…”

Your shyness got to him and he could help but laugh softly. You were so cute. He took a step back and off the bed, pulling off his cloak. He could feel your eyes watching his every movement, could feel your eyes rake his form as you settled on the bed. 

His gold adornments drop to the floor with a ‘clunk’, quickly followed by his black trousers. 

“You’re so beautiful.” You softly praise. You can’t help but to stare at him, eyes lingering on every sculpted muscle or coloured scar of his frame. 

He couldn't help but feel like you were the beautiful one. The way your eyes traveled over his body made his heart beat fast. He felt like he was on top of the world, knowing you admired him.

He climbs back onto the bed, taking his place between your legs as he lays on his stomach. His hands come to grip around your thighs, pulling you closer to him. 

“Oh.” You gasp slightly at the intimate position, gulping as your blood pumps faster through your veins. 

He slides a hand down towards your cunt, already slick for him. A thumb parts your swollen lips as he gently glides it up and down, before pressing it against your sensitive bud. 

“Ah-” You moan oh so sweetly for him, hips twitching as he starts rubbing your pretty clit. Your body was so responsive to him, and it makes a grin break onto his face. 

He brings his thumb away, making you frown before replacing it with his mouth, lips wrapped around the nub. 

“W-wait!” You cry out, hands flying into his hair as you do your best to not buck into his face. He smirked around you, starting to suck despite your call. Your reaction only added fuel to the fire burning inside him, your writhing body and shaky gasps were too much for him to handle. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just let yourself feel good.” He mumbles into your cunt before going back to sucking and lapping at you. He holds you close to his face, his grip firm to keep you as still as he could. 

He groans as you tug at his roots, the sound vibrating around your needy clit. Your desperate moans and whispers drove him crazy. He liked how fast you were breathing, how much you were moving. You were a squirming, twitching mess underneath him as the sensation became too overwhelming.

“Jason, oh my Gods.” You gasp.

“I’m your only God, now, right? Just me…” His hand moves to your fluttering hole, slowly pressing two fingers inside you. They slip in easily with how wet you are, dripping your desire down his wrists. He feels you clamp down on them, slick walls sucking him in further.

“Jason, Jay!” His name slips from your lips like a chant, a prayer wrapped in shallow breaths. 

“Keep saying my name just like that, pretty girl.” He loves the way you make it sound, loves the way you say it. Not Grip Reaper. Not Death. Just Jason. Your Jason. 

“Oh, Jay…” You breathe out his name like you’re struggling to even think.

“You’re such a sensitive thing, aren’t you?” He coos, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. He smirks when you squeal as he curls his fingers up, pressing against that soft, vulnerable spot inside you. His arm moves to keep you down, pinning your hips to the bed as he goes back to tasting you.

“N-not there!”

“Why not? Doesn’t it feel good?”

“It’s too much!” You’re breathless, barely able to gasp out replies as he keeps abusing that spot inside you. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Jason slows his pace, fingers dragging painfully slow against your aching, slick walls, making you let out a needy mewl, clenching on him. 

“No! P-please don’t.” You pout, softly tugging at his head to turn his attention fully on you. 

“Say my name. Tell me what you want.”

You hesitate a bit, pondering your words. “Make me feel good, Jason. Make me cum.” Your tone is so soft and pleading, it’s the best worship he’s ever heard. 

The only prayers he’s ever heard were cries for his absence, beseeching his very being and purpose, but with you - he’s found a new one. You want him, you want him closer, you want him to make you feel bliss. He can do that. He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him. 

He dives back down with a fervor, thick fingers working you quickly, the soft squelches increasing in volume and frequency. His tongue traces your clit, sucking and rolling and indulging in the way you writhe and whimper below him. 

He keeps going as you squirm uncontrollably, as your body tenses further and further, as your eyes glaze over and your heart pounds. Your nerves are frayed and begging for relief as the soft warmth of his tongue doesn’t let up. Your grip on his hair tightens, making him grunt low and husky into you. 

“Jason, m’gonna… can I please-?” You can barely make out full sentences, head fuzzy and blood searing as the dam inside you threatens to break. 

“You don’t have to ask, just do it.’ He murmurs; his cock throbs in his garments, waiting for you to release on his tongue. 

The feeling overtakes you, making you choke out a shaky cry as you climax. Your thighs squeezes his head, fingers buried deep into his dark locks as you tremble. You’re lightheaded and breathless and euphoria has settled in every inch of your veins. 

Jason removes his fingers, gripping your thigh as his mouth slots against your leaking cunt as he engulfs his tongue into your taste. He greedily laps up your slick, moaning as it blooms over his tongue - more sweet and addictive than even ambrosia. 

Your cries are so adorable as he continues to seek out every last drop of cum from you, your body pliant and weak below him as you keen and mew. 

“J-Jay…” You stutter out his name as your body twitches, sensitivity kicking in. 

“Yes, love?” He barely pauses to utter out those words, mind set on devouring you whole. 

“C-can’t!” He frowns, giving you one last lick before pulling himself away from you.

His eyes are filled with a feral like need, mouth smeared and shiny with the aftermath of your arousal. “Did that feel good?” He husks out, “You looked so divine, cumming.’

You’re panting hard under him, mind dizzy as you process his words, nodding in reply.

“I want to make you feel that way for the rest of eternity, you’ll let me right? You’ll stay with me?” Now that he’s had you, he doesn’t think he can survive on his own anymore. 

“Y-yeah, Jay.” You nod again, voice small. 

He raises himself up, licking you off his hand before he crawls over your body again. His legs slot between yours, tangling the both of you together. He leans down, sighing out in satisfaction as your damp, warm skin presses into his. 

His lips brush over yours, silently asking for permission to kiss you again. You accept him willingly, hands drifting to hang loose around his neck as you push your lips to his.

He groans, hand gripping your waist and the other running through your hair as he explores your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, spit mixing together as he groans into your lips. 

He pulls back, both your breaths lingering in the small space between your faces. He trails his nose down to the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth dragging lightly across the flesh. 

“I want all of you, so bad.” He groans. “I’ll do anything for you. Can you tell me I’m yours?”

He so desperately wants to belong to you - to know that one day you’ll accompany him in the deepest pits of Tartarus - that you’ll never let him be alone again. 

“You want to be mine?” Your tone is puzzled, words ending in a lilt. 

“Please.”

You smile, hands coming to hold his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. “Who knew the God of Death would be so needy?” You tease.

“You try being alone and hated since the dawn of existence.” He sighs, melting into your touch. His eyes close, leaning into your palms. 

You giggle a bit. “We can be each other's.” Your lips break out into a grin as you bring his face down to yours, pressing pecks all over. 

He relishes your kisses, letting out a deep, happy sigh. His cock is still painfully hard, straining against his boxers, but he tries to ignore it. He opens his eyes and brushes your stray hair behind your ears, slightly damp with your sweat. 

“Jay,” You murmur his name, pulling back to look at him, “I want more.”

“More? You want me to eat you out again?” His mouth salivates at the thought of having your taste on his tongue again. He’ll do anything you ask. 

You shake your head, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones, “I want you to fuck me, Jay.”  

“You do? Are you sure?” He whispers. 

His breath hitches as you nod, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. 

“I wanna feel you, Jay. J-just go slow, I’m still sensitive.”

“You’re sensitive?” He huffs out an amused breath, smiling softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll make sure of it.”

You try to press your thighs together, getting excited by his promises and husky tone. He feels your legs shift around his, smirking as he takes in your desperate body language. 

He shifts back again, tugging his boxers down. Your eyes trail to his now exposed cock, standing proud and flushed and daunting. 

He’s…. big. 

Your jaw drops a little as you take him in, your mind reeling with thoughts of “Will it fit?”.

“Hm? Don’t worry. I said I was going to take care of you.” Jason murmurs, voice adoring. He positions himself back between your legs, hands lifting your legs to encourage them to wrap around his waist. You willingly follow his guidance. 

His hands come to hold your hips steady, hips canting forwards to rub the head of his cock through your folds. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” You reply softly, hands drifting to lay on top of his, gently grabbing his wrists. 

He pushes inside of you, pace steady and measured as he tries his best to let you adapt to him.

“Ohmyfuck…” You slur, words mushing together as you feel him stretch you out. You grip him a bit tighter. 

“Just relax, pretty girl.” He mutters, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down. He continues pushing himself inside you, making you feel every ridge and detail and inch. It’s slow and deliberate; he’s savoring watching the way your cunt sucks him in, the way your head tilts back, how shallow and quick your breaths have gotten. “Can you feel it? Am I too big for you?” He teases, eyes shining with both mischief and affection. He pushes forwards again. 

Your pussy flutters around the girth of him, slick pouring out with every second, making the process that much smoother. 

You try to take deep breaths, groaning softly as you feel the way he bullies into you, nestling deep inside. 

“S’it in yet?” You hiccup.

He chuckles softly, you were just so endearing. He was taking his time, enjoying the feeling of you. “It’s not even halfway yet, baby.” He coos. 

“S-still?” Your eyes widen a bit, as he laughs again.

“Just lay down and take it, princess. I’ll do everything, don’t think about a thing.” He leans down and silences your whimpers with a kiss. His lips lock onto yours as he swallows your moans, moving his hips until he feels you flushed against him. 

He pulls back, body once more shadowing over yours. His eyes drift down to where the two of you connect. “Look at that, she took me all in. I told you that you didn’t need to fret, love.” 

“A-ah, it’s so deep…” You mumble. 

“Isn’t it?” He grins. 

He starts to move back and forth, instantly groaning at the intoxicating sensation of you wrapped warm and snug around his pulsing cock. 

He keeps his pace slow, staying true to his promise. He doesn’t mind though, he’s just relishing in every little detail of you, burning the memory of how you look, feel, and sound into his mind - a treasure for eons to come. 

You’re moaning uncontrollably, hands moving to grip at his biceps, nails digging slightly into the skin. He grunts, liking the shark twang of pain that shoots through his body. 

He can feel you clamping around him desperately, like your body needed more. You’re so wet and sloppy, he can feel your slick smearing on his thighs with every thrust. 

“Feels s’good, baby.” He groans, and immediately he feels you clench on him again. “Did you like that?” He grins. 

“Uh-huh,” You nod dumbly, eyes unfocused as whines spill from your throat. 

“My pretty girl likes it when I praise her, huh?” The next words flow from him easily, he’s venerated you so much in his mind already that the flattery comes easy. He wants you to know exactly what you make him feel. “You’re so fucking perfect for me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” 

Everytime he bottoms out you can feel him in your throat.

“J-Jay…”

Your bodies blend together, waves of pleasure overtaking you both with each long stroke. You can feel every inch and vein and crevice of him pushing against your sensitive walls. 

He continues speaking. “You make me fall apart so easily, my love. I want to give you my everything. I’ll be at your disposal from now on, you can do whatever you want with my body, as long as you stay by my side.” His tone is deep, dripping with lust. “Your pretty pussy takes me so well, it’s like you were made for my cock, yeah?”

A shiver of arousal runs through your body at his speech, lower body getting hotter. You feel like you’re surrounded by lava, melting and wound tight all at once. 

“Your body is so beautiful, I don't want anyone else to touch you; I want you only for myself.” His hands lift your hips up a little, his cock pressing inside even deeper than before, making you let out a yelp. 

He’s hitting every good spot inside you, knocking the breath from your lungs even with his sensual pace. You feel constant spurts of warmth pouring out of you, and you notice just how soaked the mattress is beneath your shivering body. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, love?”

“S-so much, Jay,” You whine out, clutching him harder. 

“Good, I want to be the only one that can make you feel like this.”  

Each rock of his hips gets you higher and higher, dangling on the edge of release. The glide of him is so smooth and sweet as he drags against you.

“M’gonna cum, Jay.” You sigh out, voice high and whiny.

“Good girl, go on and soak my cock. Show me just how much you’re enjoying this.” 

A few more more moments and you’re letting go, gripping his biceps hard as elation sinks deep into your bones. A sob of his name escapes your parted lips, body tingly and twitchy as endorphins rush through your veins. He groans as he feels your slick walls convulse around him. His grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he pulls out, his cum instantly spilling onto your stomach. Relief floods his system as he pants hard, chest heaving as he catches his breath. 

The both of you bask in the afterglow of your climaxes, the soft sound of breathing drifting on the heated air. Jason thinks you look divine with your hair spread on the bed, his seed marking your skin as sweat glistens your body. You think the view of him above you, satisfaction prominent on his face, is just as sacred. 

When Jason’s body settles he gently slides out of you, smiling apologetically at your small wince. He goes to your bathroom, having memorized the layout of your house from all the times he’s visited you. He returns with a damp towel, mournfully wiping his traces off of you. He throws the rag into your laundry basket, crawling beside you in bed and pulling you into his chest.

“How ya doing, princess?” He whispers into your hair.

You give him a small, happy hum in return, scooting yourself even closer into him. 

"You're so soft," He mumbles, nuzzling into you. "This is where I want us to stay, for eternity. Nothing else, forever."

“That sounds perfect, Jay.” You reply, yawning slightly. 

Jason’s smile grows even wider, his arms tightening around you. He looks down at you with an adoring gaze, your warm and tender body slotting perfectly against his. "There is nothing, and no one in this world that I want more than you, my dearest."

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

requested tags: @a-deadbeat-fucking-valentine @in-som-niyah

[magic-shop-stories]

Hi! I really love your writing. I wanted to see if it was possible to request something along the lines of a friends to lovers fic with Yoongi. Maybe some angst like he starts to get kind of distant so the reader thinks she’s being too annoying or clingy and thinks he wants to spend less time together so she starts to back off thinking it’ll make him happy. But it’s the opposite. He actually really really likes (loves) her and is scared and doesn’t know how to handle it or doesn’t want to mess up so he gets hurt that she starts distancing herself from him. Maybe an argument ensues ( it gets worse before it gets better). Have it end fluffy and happy. I’d really appreciate it! It’s okay if this isn’t your style. I’ll understand.

💌 Reply:

Hi love! 💜 Thank you so much for trusting me with this request. I loved your idea and it had me emotional from the start! I absolutely adore friends-to-lovers angst with Yoongi, especially when it’s layered with all that delicious tension and vulnerability. I tried to weave in plenty of hurt, misunderstandings, and emotional confrontations (plus a rooftop kiss in the rain), but don’t worry... it ends with all the softness and hope these two deserve. The members also meddle (because of course they do), and there’s a lot of quiet healing woven into the chaos, at least I think so. I hope this story feels as comfortin to read as it did to write! Let me know if you’d tweak anything... your feedback means the world. Thank you again!

PS.: I'm definitely NOT procrastinating and wrote this to avoid my uni assigments I have to hand in in a week - RIP

REQUEST NAME:

ECLIPSE

↳ Yoongi x F!Reader | Hurt/Comfort | Angst, Drama, (Slow Burn/ Romance) | BTS AU | Slice of Life

Rating: G (13)

Word Count: ~4.7k

Genre: Drama, BTS AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slow-Burn Romance, Slice of Life

Warnings: themes of parental neglect, emotional abandonment, references to, self-harm, emotional distress (panic attacks, anxiety), strong language (occasional profanity), depictions of unresolved trauma and emotional repression, intense arguments, emotional confrontations, mild alcohol use

Pairing: Min Yoongi x F!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Featuring: Yoongi as a guarded, introverted musician grappling with fear of vulnerability and abandonment, Reader as a resilient but scarred creative, haunted by childhood neglect and rejection, BTS Members as supportive yet meddling found family (Jin, Jungkook, Jimin, Namjoon, Taehyung, Hobi), Themes of healing through connection, the weight of silence, and learning to trust.

ECLIPSE

PROLOGUE: DAEGU, 2010

The bell above the door of Hwanhee Music jingles like a half-hearted apology as you duck inside, your older brother’s laughter still ringing in your ears. “You hum like a dying refrigerator,” he’d sneered, shoving you out of the car. The shop smells of rosin and dust, violins hanging like forgotten ghosts on the walls. You trail your fingers over a cracked cello case, its velvet lining frayed, when a voice slices through the quiet.

“You gonna stare all day,” he snaps, “or hand me the Phillips head?”

The boy under the desk is all sharp angles, elbows like knife-edges, ink-stained fingers, hair dyed a rebellious copper that clashes with his scowl. A gutted keyboard spills wires at his feet, and grease smears his cheekbone like war paint. You freeze, but his glare doesn’t waver.

“Screwdriver,” he barks, nodding to the toolbox.

You fumble for the tool, knees cracking against the linoleum as you kneel beside him. He snatches it without thanks, cursing under his breath as he jabs at the keyboard’s innards. Up close, he smells like solder and spearmint gum.

“You work here?” you venture.

“No. I break things for fun.” He doesn’t look up. “Why’re you here?”

“My brother’s a jerk.”

That earns a snort. “Join the club.”

You watch him work, the rhythm of his hands hypnotic, twisting screws, testing circuits. When the keyboard finally sputters to life, playing a distorted C-major scale, he leans back with a smirk. “Fixed it.”

“Sounds worse,” you say.

He barks a laugh, sharp and surprised. “Yeah. Perfect, isn’t it?”

He shoves a mixtape into your hand as you leave. GLOSS scrawled in red ink. That night, you press play in your closet, headphones swallowing the sound of your parents’ fight downstairs. The beats are raw, angry, alive. You fall asleep to the track on loop, your cheek against the cold floor.

You don’t know it yet, but this boy, Min Yoongi, 16, allergic to small talk and full of broken things, will become your anchor.

PRESENT

The hum of the air conditioner is the only sound in Yoongi’s studio, a sterile chill biting through the warmth of late summer. You hover in the doorway, balancing two paper cups of coffee, one black, decaf, with a sugar cube hidden beneath the saucer, the other a caramel macchiato you’d grabbed on impulse, though you know he’ll tease you for it.

He’s hunched over his desk, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, fingers flying across his laptop keyboard. The blue light of the screen casts shadows under his eyes, deeper than they were last week. A half-empty pack of menthol cigarettes sits beside a stack of lyric sheets, the top one scribbled with angry black strokes: “I built a fortress, but the walls keep crumbling.”

“Hey,” you say softly, setting his coffee down. “Track seven’s bridge… the metaphor about ‘winter bones.’ It’s brutal.”

He doesn’t look up. “It’s supposed to be.”

“But ‘embers’ could work better. Something that still burns, even in the cold.”

His jaw tenses. “Leave it.”

“Yoongi...”

“I said leave it.” The words crack like a whip.

You freeze. He’s snapped before, sleep-deprived, caffeine-jittery, lost in the labyrinth of his own mind, but never at you. Never with that edge of venom.

His fingers pause mid-keystroke. For a heartbeat, the room feels suspended, the air thick with unsaid things. Then he yanks his hoodie over his head, the fabric swallowing him whole, like a turtle retreating in its shell. “Go home. I’m busy.”

You go.

Seoul’s streets blur as you walk, the weight of his dismissal sharp in your ribs. You pass the convenience store where he once bought you banana milk after a panic attack, the alley where he taught you to ride his motorcycle, gripping his waist too tight as he laughed. “Relax, I won’t let you die.”

Your phone buzzes. A text from Jimin: 'Movie night? Bring Yoongi hyung’s grumpy ass.' You type 'Maybe next time' and pocket the phone.

The rain starts as you reach your apartment, a slow drizzle that soaks through your sweater. You’re fumbling with your keys when your brother’s name flashes on your screen.

“Dad’s in the hospital,” he says. “Minor heart attack. He’s fine, but… thought you should know.”

You stare at the puddle forming at your feet. “Did he ask for me?”

A pause. “You know how he is.”

“Right.” You hang up.

Inside, you curl on the couch, the Agust D mixtape he gave you a few years ago, one of the first, spinning quietly. The track skips where it’s been played too many times.

Friday’s samgyeopsal tradition dies with a text: Yoongi: 'Busy. Next week.'

No emojis. No apology. Just three words that carve a hollow in your chest.

You stare at the restaurant reservation on your phone, 'Table for 2, 7:30 PM' and delete it.

Jin texts an hour later: 'Yah, why’s Yoongi sulking in the studio? Did you two fight?'

You lie: 'Comeback stress.'

But you know better.

The next day, HYBE’s greenroom buzzes with laughter. Jungkook’s attempting handstands against the wall, Jimin filming while Taehyung heckles. You’re halfway through a story about Hobi’s failed attempt at baking bungeoppang when Yoongi walks in.

His eyes dart to you, then away.

“Hyung!” Jungkook grins, upside-down. “Bet you can’t do ten push-ups with Y/N on your back!”

“Pass,” Yoongi mutters, beelining for the coffee machine.

You force a laugh. “He’d collapse. Too many sleepless nights.”

It’s an old joke, one that usually earns an eye roll or a sarcastic “Yah, respect your elders.” Today, he stiffens, coffee sloshing over the rim of his mug.

“I’m fine,” he snaps.

The room falls silent. Jimin’s camera lowers.

“Hyung,...” Jungkook starts, but Yoongi’s already out the door.

Ten Years Earlier

You find him on the rooftop of his high school, knuckles split and bleeding.

“Fight?” you ask, sitting beside him.

“None of your business.”

“Your mom called me. Said you missed dinner.”

He scoffs. “She’s used to it.”

You pull a bandage from your bag, always carrying extras since the day he sliced his thumb fixing your bike. He lets you wrap his hand, hissing when the alcohol pad stings.

“Why do you do this?” you whisper.

He looks at you then, really looks, his eyes black and bottomless. “Why do you care?”

You don’t have an answer.

The distance becomes a chasm. He “forgets” your birthday, though you’ve spent every one together since you were 17.

You leave tteokbokki at his studio door. It sits untouched until the security guard throws it out.

At 3 a.m., you hear his motorcycle idle outside your apartment. The engine cuts, then roars away.

One night, drunk on soju and self-pity, you open the demo track he left on your laptop, Eclipse. The lyrics gut you:

“I’m a shadow chasing your light / Scared to touch, scared to fight / What if I’m just another ghost in your night?”

You play it on loop until dawn.

The final straw is a Thursday.

You’re in the HYBE archives, digging through old recordings for Namjoon’s documentary, when Yoongi walks in. He freezes at the sight of you, a file slipping from his hands.

“Need help?” you offer, kneeling to gather the papers.

“Don’t.” His voice is strained.

Your fingers brush his. He jerks back like burned.

“Yoongi, talk to me.”

He stares at the floor, jaw clenched. “There’s nothing to say.”

“Bullshit.” Your voice cracks. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. Did I do something? Say something?”

He turns to leave.

“Coward,” you spit.

He stops, shoulders rigid.

“You’re scared,” you press. “Of what? Me?”

For a heartbeat, he hesitates. Then the door slams shut.

That night, you dig out the box under your bed, the one labeled Do Not Open in your mother’s handwriting. Inside: divorce papers, a dried corsage from your forgotten recital, and a note in her looping script: 'Sometimes love isn’t enough.'

You text Yoongi: 'I’ll stop bothering you.'

He doesn’t reply.

The silence between you and Yoongi hardens into something tangible, a wall built brick by brick with every unanswered text and averted glance. And you stop waiting.

No more coffee runs to his studio, no more scribbling notes in the margins of his lyrics. You delete his contact from your speed dial and mute the group chat buzzing with tour preparations. At Jimin’s birthday party, you lean into the chaos, laughing too loudly at Taehyung’s absurd jokes, letting Jungkook spin you in a drunken waltz until your heels skid on the polished floor.

“Careful,” Jungkook grins, steadying you as the room tilts. “Hyung’ll kill me if I break his favorite editor.”

You force a smile. “He won’t notice.”

But Yoongi does.

He watches from the balcony, cigarette cherry glowing like a warning light in the dark. The party’s golden haze doesn’t touch him here; he’s a shadow in a leather jacket, sleeves pushed up to reveal the faint scar on his forearm, the one he got teaching you to ride his motorbike years ago. His gaze lingers as Jungkook’s hand slides to your waist, his jaw tightening before he crushes the cigarette under his boot.

“He’s being weird,” Jimin murmurs, appearing at your side with a champagne flute. He nods toward the balcony, where Yoongi’s silhouette melts into the night. “Did you fight?”

“He’s just tired,” you lie, the words ash on your tongue.

Flashback — Age 19

The studio bathroom reeks of bleach and regret. You slump against the sink, your father’s latest text glaring from your cracked screen: 'Next time, kiddo. Promise.' The lie is a familiar ache, a bruise pressed too many times.

The door creaks open. Yoongi leans against the frame, arms crossed, hair mussed from hours of producing. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, wiping mascara streaks with a scratchy paper towel.

He tosses a crowbar onto the counter. “C’mon.”

You follow him to the storage closet, where an old keyboard gathers dust. “Break it,” he says, voice flat.

The first strike is hesitant. The second cracks the plastic. By the third, you’re screaming, tears mixing with sweat as shrapnel flies. Yoongi watches, arms crossed, until you collapse against the wall, breath ragged.

“Feel better?” he asks.

“No.”

He hands you a Coke, condensation slick on your palms. “Me neither. But it’s fun, right?”

You hiccup a laugh. “You’re weird.”

“Takes one to know one.”

He doesn’t ask why you were crying. Doesn’t have to. You both know the shape of absence too well.

Yoongi’s Studio, 3:14 AM

The cursor blinks mockingly on his screen, the lyrics to Eclipse taunting him.

“I’m a shadow afraid of my own light / You’re the sun I can’t let myself bite.”

Yoongi slams his laptop shut. The studio walls press in, cluttered with half-empty coffee cups and crumpled lyric sheets. His fingers drift to the light scar on his forearm, tracing it like a prayer. Coward, it snarls back.

He pulls out his phone, thumb hovering over your name. The last text you sent 'I’ll stop bothering you' still burns. He types 'Don’t', deletes it. Types 'I’m sorry', then deletes that too.

The door creaks open.

“Hyung?” Jungkook pokes his head in, hair mussed from sleep. “You’ve been here for 18 hours. Eat something.”

“Not hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.” Jungkook tosses a convenience store kimbap onto the desk. “Y/N texted me. Said you’re being… you again.”

Yoongi’s jaw tightens. “She’s not my babysitter.”

“No,” Jungkook says quietly. “But she’s your friend. Or was.”

The door clicks shut. Yoongi stares at the uneaten kimbap, guilt curdling in his gut.

He notices everything.

The way you no longer linger in his doorway after dropping off coffee. How you laugh at Jungkook’s jokes but freeze when he enters the room. The hollow space where your notes used to clutter his desk.

It’s for the best, he tells himself.

Liar.

One night, he drives to your apartment, engine idling as he watches your shadow move behind the curtains. You’re humming, his melody, the one he wrote after your car crash. His hands shake on the steering wheel.

Go inside. Tell her.

But he’s sixteen again, staring at a closed door after you left Hwanhee Music for the first time after appearing out of nowhere.

He revs the engine and leaves.

The second intervention comes on a Tuesday.

Jin corners him in the practice room, arms crossed. “Fix this.”

“Fix what?” Yoongi dodges, pounding the punching bag.

“You know what. She’s miserable. You’re miserable. Even the staff’s placing bets on how long you’ll last.”

“Not your business.”

“It is when you’re both too stubborn to...”

The bag swings violently as Yoongi lands a final blow. “Back. Off.”

Jin doesn’t flinch. “You’re scared. That’s fine. But don’t take her down with you.”

That night he plays Eclipse on loop, the bass vibrating in his teeth.

“What if I’m just another ghost in your night?”

His fingers slip, hitting a dissonant chord. He slams the piano lid, breath ragged. The room spins, sleep deprivation, regret, the phantom weight of your absence.

On the floor, his sketchbook lies open to a page he’d tried to tear out: your face, half-scribbled, half-erased. He traces the lines, charcoal smudging under his thumb.

You’re home. And I don’t know how to keep things that matter.

His phone buzzes. A notification from your shared cloud album, a photo of you both at last year’s Christmas party, his arm slung over your shoulders, caught mid-laugh.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until the tear hits the sketchbook, blurring your smile.

He’s at your door at 5:03 AM, fist raised to knock.

The night air bites, but his palms sweat. Through the peephole, he sees the faint glow of your TV, Howl’s Moving Castle paused, your favorite. He knows you’re curled on the couch in that ridiculous Totoro onesie, popcorn abandoned, asleep by now.

Tell her. Tell her.

His phone lights up with a text from his manager: 'Flight to L.A. in 3 hours. Pack.'

He steps back.

The elevator dings.

He’s gone.

Again.

And you?

You stop answering calls.

Your apartment becomes a museum of half-lived moments, takeout containers stacked like monuments, lyric sheets buried under unopened bills, the Agust D mixtape spinning endlessly on your turntable. The world narrows to the glow of your laptop screen, where you edit track after track for other artists, burying yourself in their stories to avoid your own.

One night, you find an old voicemail from your mother. “Sweetheart, call me when you can. Your father wants to...” You delete it.

The past claws back anyway.

Flashback — Age 9

The school auditorium is cold, your ballet shoes pinching as you wait in the wings. “Parents only,” the teacher had said. “No siblings.”

Your brother sits in the front row anyway, smirking as your parents’ seats stay empty. You pirouette, stumble, and the snickers cut deeper than the splinter in your toe. Afterward, your brother tosses you a candy bar. “Don’t cry. They’re not worth it.”

You eat it in the bathroom, chocolate mixing with salt.

On day three after Yoongi flew off, Jimin corners you in HYBE’s dressing room, his reflection sharp in the vanity lights.

“When’s the last time you slept?” he asks, softer than he needs to.

You smudge concealer under your eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” He spins your chair to face him. “Yoongi hyung’s a mess. You’re a mess. Talk to each other.”

Your laugh is brittle. “There’s nothing to say.”

He grips your shoulders, voice pleading. “You’re family. Let us help.”

You slip away, his touch burning like a brand.

Your old habits return like old lovers; familiar and destructive.

You skip meals, survive on iced coffee and nicotine gum. At 2 a.m., you scrub your kitchen floor until your knees bleed, just to feel something else. One night, you dig out the pocketknife from your brother’s old jacket, the blade dull from years of disuse.

Just once, you tell yourself. Just to remember.

The sting is a relief.

However they still notice, of course they do.

Namjoon finds you in the archives, buried under decade-old concert tapes.

“Jimin’s worried,” he says, leaning against a shelf. “I’m worried.”

You don’t look up. “I’m working.”

“You’re hiding.”

The tape in your hand trembles, 2015: Boy in Luv. Yoongi’s voice crackles through the speakers, raw and young. “Why’s love gotta hurt so much?”

Namjoon crouches beside you. “You know what he told me once? That loving someone feels like standing in a thunderstorm with a metal rod. You want to drop it, but you’re scared to let go.”

You press stop. The silence is suffocating.

“He’s scared,” Namjoon says. “But so are you.”

What you didnt know was that Yoongi didn't fly to LA.

He watches you from afar, sees you slip into the studio at dawn, hoodie swallowing your frame. Sees you flinch when Jungkook offers you his jacket. Sees the bandage on your wrist when you reach for a coffee cup.

One night, he follows you to the rooftop, your silhouette haloed by city lights. You don’t turn around.

“Go away,” you say, deep down you had felt his presence, but couldn't trust yourself anymore.

He doesn’t, but when both of you stay silent, you leave.

The panic attack hits you during a staff meeting, it had only been a matter of time.

Someone mentions Eclipse. Your chest tightens, air thinning to razorblades. You stumble into the hallway, clawing at your collar, and collapse against the wall.

Memories flood, your mother’s locked door, Yoongi’s studio light flicking off, your father’s empty seat in the auditorium. Not enough. Never enough.

“Breathe,” a voice rasps.

Yoongi kneels beside you, hands hovering like he’s afraid to touch. You slap him away.

“Don’t,” you choke. “You don’t get to care now.”

He recoils. And you run.

That night, you blast Eclipse until your neighbors pound on the wall. The lyrics twist into a taunt:

“I’m a shadow afraid of my own light / You’re the sun I can’t let myself bite.”

You smash the mixtape against the wall. The plastic cracks, but the music keeps playing.

You ran off, couldn't hear it anymore...

The rain fell in sheets, drowning the city in a haze of silver and shadow. You stood on the rooftop’s edge, fingers numb where they gripped the guardrail, the storm swallowing the sound of your tears. The cold bit through your clothes, but you welcomed it, a distraction from the ache in your chest, the raw sting beneath your bandages. You didn’t hear the door slam open behind you, didn’t register the footsteps until his voice cut through the downpour.

“Get down,” Yoongi demanded, breathless, rain plastering his hair to his forehead. His eyes flickered to your trembling hands, the soaked sleeves clinging to your arms.

You laughed, hollow and cracked. “Why? You’ve made it clear you don’t want me here.”

He stepped closer, boots splashing through puddles. “You’re going to freeze.”

“And you’ll what? Care?” You whirled on him, voice rising above the storm. “You ignored me for weeks! You let me think...”

“I know!” The words ripped from him, raw and ragged. “I know what I did. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix this!” You gestured to your wrist, the bandage peeking beneath your sleeve. “You don’t get to disappear and then show up acting like you care!”

His face crumpled. “I was trying to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me!” He shouted it, fists clenched at his sides, rain streaking down his face like tears. “From this...this curse of ruining everything I touch! My dad thought I wasn’t enough. My mom cried herself to sleep for years. And you...you...” His voice broke. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I couldn’t watch you realize I’m not worth it.”

The confession hung between you, fragile as the silence after a thunderclap. You stared at him, chest heaving, the truth of his words slicing through the anger.

“You don’t get to decide what I’m worth,” you whispered.

He closed the distance in two strides, hands cupping your face, thumbs brushing away rain and tears. “I’m selfish,” he said, voice trembling. “I’m scared. But I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

His lips found yours, a collision of desperation and regret, salt and rain and years of unspoken words. You clung to him, fists tangled in his soaked hoodie, as the storm raged around you. When he pulled back, forehead pressed to yours, his breath shuddered. “Let me fix this. Please.”

He carried you to his apartment, your face buried in the curve of his neck, his grip unyielding. The elevator ride was silent, his heartbeat a frantic drum against your ear. Inside, he peeled off your drenched clothes with clinical care, hands lingering over fresh scars before bundling you into the shower. You stood under the scalding water, trembling as he washed your hair, his touch achingly gentle.

“This one’s infected,” he muttered later, kneeling on the bathroom floor, antiseptic and gauze scattered around him. His lips brushed the bandage on your wrist after he secured it, a silent vow. He tugged his old Agust D hoodie over your head, the fabric swallowing you whole, and microwaved a sad packet of instant jjajangmyeon, the only edible thing in his barren fridge.

You ate in silence at his kitchen table, legs pressed together beneath it, his gaze never leaving you.

When he finally spoke, it was to the darkness of his bedroom, your bodies inches apart on the mattress. “I wrote Eclipse about you,” he admitted, voice rough. “About how you’re… light. And I’m just the shadow chasing it.”

You turned toward him, tracing the scar on his forearm. “You’re not a shadow.”

He shifted, eyes glinting in the dim light. “Then what am I?”

“Mine.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, hands framing your face like you were something fragile, something sacred. You finally fell asleep tangled in his sheets, his arm a steady weight across your waist, nose buried in your hair.

Morning came soft and golden, the storm replaced by a quiet drizzle. You woke to his fingers tracing the curve of your shoulder, his voice sleep-roughened. “Stay,” he murmured into your skin. “Please.”

You turned, meeting his gaze; wide, vulnerable, stripped of armor. “What if we mess up again?”

He kissed the corner of your mouth, then the scar on your wrist. “We will. But I’ll fix it. Every time.”

EPILOGUE: Two Years Later

The soft hum of the studio’s air conditioner blended with the faint click of Yoongi’s mouse as he adjusted the final levels on his latest track. You sat cross-legged on the leather couch behind him, a stack of lyric sheets in your lap, red pen circling a line that felt too sharp, too raw. Outside, Seoul glittered under a midsummer moon, the city alive in a way that once felt suffocating but now pulsed with a rhythm you’d learned to dance to.

“You’re overthinking it,” you said, tossing a crumpled page at his head.

He caught it without turning, smirk audible in his voice. “Says the woman who rewrote the bridge six times.”

“It needed to breathe.”

“It needed to stop being micromanaged.” He spun his chair around, eyes crinkling as he took in your mock glare. The studio lights caught the silver hoop in his ear, the one you’d bought him last Christmas after he’d drunkenly admitted he’d always wanted to try piercings but was “too old for rebellion.”

You stood, padding over to his desk in socked feet, his socks, stolen from his drawer that morning, and leaned against the edge. “Play it again.”

He groaned but obeyed, fingers flying across the keyboard. The track bloomed through the speakers, a haunting blend of piano and synth that made your chest ache. It was different from his older work, softer at the edges, less like a scream and more like a confession.

“See?” you murmured, nodding to the screen. “The second verse. You softened the bass. It’s better.”

He tugged you onto his lap, chin resting on your shoulder. “Only because you bullied me into it.”

You elbowed him lightly, but his arms tightened around your waist, lips brushing the scar on your wrist, the one he still kissed every morning as if it were a promise.

The door creaked open. “Am I interrupting?”

You glanced up to find Jin leaning against the frame, eyebrow arched, a paper bag of mandu steaming in his hand.

“Yes,” Yoongi deadpanned, but he released you anyway, swiping a dumpling from the bag.

“You’re welcome,” Jin said, flopping onto the couch. “By the way, Jungkook’s betting you two will adopt a dog by Christmas. I’ve got 500,000 won riding on this, so hurry up.”

You snorted. “Tell him to mind his own business.”

“Impossible. You’re his favorite drama.”

Later, back at your shared apartment, a sunlit loft cluttered with vinyl records, half-finished paintings, and the Agust D mixtape framed above the turntable, you sprawled on the rug while Yoongi cooked. Or, more accurately, burned.

“You’re supposed to stir it,” you called from the floor, flipping through a photo album Jimin had made for your last anniversary.

“I am stirring it,” he grumbled, smoke curling from the pan.

You glanced up. “That’s a fire, Yoongi.”

“It’s caramelized.”

You abandoned the album, sidling up behind him to wrap your arms around his waist. “Let me.”

He huffed but handed over the spatula, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Show-off.”

The kitchen filled with the scent of garlic and soy sauce, the sizzle of the pan harmonizing with the jazz record spinning in the background. You hummed along, hips swaying, until his hands settled on your waist, his chin hooking over your shoulder.

“Remember the first time you tried to teach me to dance?” he murmured.

“You stepped on my toes.”

“You cursed in three languages.”

You laughed, flipping the kimchi pancake with a flourish. “And now look at you. Practically a pro.”

He spun you around, fingers lacing with yours, and guided you into a slow sway. “Only because you’re stubborn.”

You rested your head against his chest, his heartbeat steady under your ear. “And you’re a slow learner.”

He kissed your hair. “Worth it.”

The nightmares still came, sometimes.

You’d wake gasping, sheets tangled, the ghost of your father’s empty seat in the auditorium clawing at your throat. But now, Yoongi was there, warm and sleep-rumpled, voice gravelly as he pulled you into his arms.

“Tell me,” he’d say, fingers tracing circles on your back.

So you did. About the recital, the locked door, the way silence felt like rejection. He’d listen, lips pressed to your hair, until your breathing slowed.

And when his demons surfaced, nights he’d pace the balcony, cigarette unlit between his fingers, staring at the city like it might swallow him whole, you’d join him, your hand finding his.

“Talk,” you’d say.

And he would. About his father, the mixtapes he made to drown out his mother’s tears, the fear that love was a currency he’d never earned.

You’d kiss his knuckles, the light scar, the pulse at his wrist. “You’re stuck with me,” you’d whisper. “Better get used to it.”

On your anniversary, he took you back to Daegu.

The music shop was gone, replaced by a sleek café, but the rooftop where you’d first kissed still overlooked the tangled streets. He handed you a new mixtape, Eclipse (Final Version), and pressed play on a beat-up portable speaker.

The track was familiar yet transformed, the old anger tempered by strings, your laughter sampled into the bridge.

“You kept it,” you said, voice thick.

He shrugged, but his ears burned pink. “Had to finish what we started.”

You kissed him there, under the same stormy sky that had once felt like an ending, now a beginning.

That night, curled in the loft’s window seat with his hoodie swallowing your frame, you watched the city lights flicker like distant stars. Yoongi’s head rested in your lap, his breathing even, fingers absently strumming the guitar across his knees.

“You’re humming again,” he said, eyes closed.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He smiled, soft and rare. “I like it.”

You carded your fingers through his hair, the melody spilling into the quiet. Outside, the rain began to fall, gentle, this time, a rhythm you no longer feared.

[mrsmnsn]

The “first date”

summary: After figuring out you liked each other, you and Eddie started dating. Your first interaction wasn’t the way he planned, so he decided to take you out on a proper date.

warnings: MDNI 18+; virgin!reader; fluff; some nerdy references (star wars troop); oral!fem!receiving; shitty writing- sorry about that.

author’s note: Hey guys, i saw how much everyone enjoyed Eddie’s Valentine story so i decided to make a second part. It took me longer then i thought to post this, but my classes at college just started so i’m still adjusting my schedule.

After what happened, you spent the rest of the morning talking in bed. You couldn't believe you actually got the courage to make a move on him. Even if it was to offer a little help with his "issue". And this was one of the many things that surprised you today. The fact that Eddie liked you back was insane. In your mind, Eddie only saw you as a girl friend. A girl he could talk about everything and nothing. Of course sometimes you caught him looking at you in was different way, but you didn't want to get delusional.

And for Eddie, he was meaning to make a move on you since he realized he was head over heels for you. But he honestly thought you would say it was way too weird to be with him this way. In a romantic way. But what is best then dating your best friend. The only thing that changed was the intimacy of things. So that's why he'd never said anything. Till this day.

"How come both of us liked each other but never did anything?" Eddie asked with one arm under his head and the other wrapped around your waist. You were laying on his chest, listening to his heart beating. You don't know how to feel about this yet. Forty minutes ago, you were still "just friends". And now you're all over each other.

"I guess i was just so scared to lose my best friend that I stayed quiet. It was better to have you in that way than not having you at all." You were being honest with yourself and with him, trying to figure it out why have you kept these feelings as a secret.

"Well i'm glad you released your horny devil today" That made you laugh and he joined you. "But to be honest, it's not how i imagined."

"What do you mean?" You got up on your elbows to see his face, a little scared from his confession. Didn't he just said that he liked it?

"I actually imagined that i would have the guts to ask you out and take you in a very nice date. Very romantic. And then, after the normal stuff normal people do, i could actually try to kiss you. But i guess we're not normal." With your eyes locked, he caressed your cheek.

"Yeah, here we start being naughty!" You said in a playful tone with a wicked grin that only made him laugh. You always loved his smile.

"I guess because we took things a little too fast, this is still kind of... unbelievable for me. Do you feel it too?" You asked, concerned you're the only one feeling this.

"Yeah. Kind of. It feels like it's a dream, right?" He asked and you nodded. "But i'm sure this is going to be as normal as last night was. It's just a matter of time. Also, just in case you didn’t realize it yet, you're my girlfriend now lady, you're stuck with me."

"Oh no! What am i gonna do?" You got out of his chest dramatically and he grabbed you again making you laugh

"Really sweetheart, i don't want you to think you'll have to act differently or anything like that. I don't want you to. I like you the way you are. All goofy and funny and sweet ." He said looking at your lips

"Look at you, all over me, aren't ya?" You said as if you weren't feeling the same

"Yeah, you got me."

After that day, you've been dating, and you couldn't be happier. You waited the whole week for saturday, which was the day of your first official date. That's how Eddie called it. Of course, he didn't want to forget what happened in that morning. But he wanted you to feel extra special. Not just some random girl.

So, he decided to take you to the drive in. This events normally happened at summer, but it was just what he wanted. Something simple, but romantic, where you two could spend time together, watching movies and maybe make out in the middle of it. It was a part of your routine together, watching movies. So, in his head, this would make you both very comfortable with the whole situation of the 'first date'.

He parked his van in front of your house right on time. He pressed the doorbell and there you were. With a cute sweater and a skirt. He loved when you wore skirts. It made your legs look so tempting.

"What do you think? Fancy enough for you mister?" You said looking down at your clothes.

"Oh my lady, you look very fancy. Come on, give me a twirl." You did it and, dramatic in his own way, he put his hand on his chest "You look amazing, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Eds" He always loved when you called him like that. Now, it was even more special.

He drove you both to the location. Even though there was a lot of cars in front of you, you had a great view of the screen. It was only ten minutes before the movie started, so he went to buy you some snacks and drinks to survive through the night. It was a marathon of star wars. The three movies. "A New Hope", "The Empire Strikes Back" and "Return of the Jedi".

The sun was starting to set when he came back. His curls in the golden light just made him look more like an angel to you.

"Here you go. I'm pretty sure we can survive with this, but if you want more, just tell me, a'right?" He insisted on buying the food, not letting you pay for anything

"That's perfect, thanks!"

Through the first movie, you didn't say a word, trying to understand everything in the movie. You always found it very confusing. Alright, maybe you were containing yourself to not put your hand on his thigh or your head on his shoulder.

Eddie also stayed in silence, too anxious to do something and fuck up the night. It was not his thing, getting anxious about girls. It was actually something he was confident. But with you, was a whole different story. He wanted to be closer to you. He was trying to find a way to get you to stay closer to him without being desperate. So he started putting one hand in your thigh. Your warm skin contrasted with his cold hand. He didn't missed the way your eyes went wide the second he touched you.

They gave a break of ten minutes to start the second movie. Now it was dark outside.

"Are you sure you don't want anything else? There is a big line there but i can go, if you want." He still had his hand on your tight.

"Yes, there is enough here." You assured him. You could see he was nervous. He’d made the first move… you could only follow his lead. "I'm just wondering here. This is a date, right?"

"Yes..."

"Don't you think this big space between us is useless? You can get closer Eddie." You said leaving his cheeks with the cutest shade of red

"I'm sorry, i didn't wanted to be too desperate" He said putting his arm around your shoulder and, without thinking too much, you placed your head on his shoulder. Eddie was in heaven. He had the girl of his dreams right by his side.

In the middle of the second movie you were still in the same position. You decided to move but, with the sudden shift, you exchanged looks. For the first time of the night, you were inches away from his lips. You couldn't help but want to kiss him so bad. Feeling the same as you, Eddie placed his hand on your cheek and brought you closer until your lips met. His lips were soft. His scent invaded your nose.

Your kiss changed from passionate to desperate very quickly. Your hands got greedy, wanting to touch him everywhere you could. In need to breathe, you separate. Panting in each other's mouth, Eddie hold your face with his both hands.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, i think we can't stay this close. I can't hold myself." He said making you smile.

"I don't think we're going to be able to pay attention on the movie anymore." Giggling, you hold his hands. "What if i said that i don't want you to control yourself?"

He separated a bit more so he could look inside your eyes. His eyes were wide open, shocked.

"I know you wanted to be a gentleman and all, but i've been thinking about this for the whole week. And remember that little horny devil? He's greedy now. More than ever." You said pressing your tights together. You weren't lying. Since he said he was going to take you on a date, you've been expecting for all the things that could happen. And you wanted to.

He was speechless. It was cute.

"I know, maybe i'm being too excited about everything. But i want it and i thought that if i had to wait for you to make a move, we would do it on the seventh date or something" He giggled at that. You were right, he thought. He wanted that too. But he would never force you to do something he knows that you didn't have much experience and you could be a little insecure. He wanted you to feel safe. He finally said something.

"Are you sure? I told you, remember? We don't have to do anything you don't want to. Especially when we're in this kind of ‘first date’ situation where we feel like we have to do stuff." You kissed him again. All you wanted was him.

"I'm sure. You said yourself remember. We’re not like the normal couples."

"Really? You know, we're in a public place ma'am. You little perv." He said making you both laugh

"So... What are your moves, huh? Gonna do it here with my clothes on or you're going to take me to the back?" You pulled his shirt to you and kissed him again.

He took your hand and pulled you to the back of the van. There was some pillows and blankets on the back.

"You were planning to do this?" You asked getting closer to him again

"I was going to take you to stargaze, actually. But you turned me on now. We'll do it later, kay?" And he kissed you.

Your kiss, like before, was hot. Craving for each other's touch. You couldn’t help but smile at the situation. Two horny teenagers in the back of a van making out like your life depends on it. Your hands travel through his chest down to his lower belly, pulling his shirt up.

"I honestly don't believe you when you say to me you're a virgin" You giggle to his reaction but stoped immediately. With his shirt off, his bare torso was in front of you. The black ink contrasting with the pale skin. You could keep looking at him shirtless for hours. But you wanted something else.

He changed your positions and looked in your eyes one more time, asking for your permission. You give it to him not thinking twice. So he takes your sweater and skirt off, leaving you only with your underwear. Thank god i piked matching ones today, you think to yourself. He kept looking to the white cotton set you chose.

“They’re pretty cute” He said earning a slap from you. “Sorry. I meant it, though.”

Smiling at him, you pulled him closer again by his necklace hanging above you only to stop inches from his lips.

“Why don’t you take ‘em off and see how cute i am without any clothes?” You said proud of yourself for being this bold. His reaction was priceless.

His hands were caressing you carefully, every move with love and affection. With you naked in front of him, his instinct was to drown himself in your neck, your chest, belly. Kissing all over your skin, making you squirm. You could feel his body heat hovering over you. Too overwhelmed by his actions, you try to take his pants off. You needed him.

“Easy there. I think we have plenty of time sweetheart.” He said taking your hands in his. He only laughed at the way you pouted. “I want to make you feel good. So why don’t you lay here and relax?” He dropped your hands, not before kissing them, and went down on your body. “It’s the only thing i could do after what you did for me last week. You were so good.” His warm breath hovered your mound and you twitched.

Not wasting any more time, he licked your clit and you gasped. You’ve never got head before. This was a new different thing for you. But oh, how you loved it. You’ve only felt some kind of pleasure there by your own fingers. But the way Eddie’s tongue kept moving and twisting around, it was a new addiction to your list. Your hands were attached to the blanket under you. You were trying so hard to not let any sound slip from your lips.

“Does it feel good?” He changed his tongue for his fingers and smiled to see you struggling to keep quiet. Not able to speak, you only nodded. Deciding to push things a little bit, he thrust his tongue inside you and you couldn’t hold the moan that came from your throat. Eddie lost his mind. He grew his movements faster than before, wanting to hear that again. He was glad that you only let them out now, or he would’ve cum in his pants by then.

Everything was so good. His tongue and fingers on your pussy and his free hand pressing your hip down so you kept quiet in place. His burning gaze on you, his hair tickling your thighs. His hot breath coming out of his nose and hitting your mound. You couldn’t take it anymore. You stopped him and pulled him up. He was confused until you kissed him. You could feel your taste on his tongue and how his chin was wet by your own slick.

“I-I need you inside me” You said gasping for air. Eddie felt his cock twitch in his boxers. Your voice was hoarse by pleasure.

He took off his jeans and boxers, almost falling down. You giggled at his tongue poking out while he searched through his wallet for a condom. “I hope this is not in there for five years. You know, condoms can expire” You joke trying to act casual seeing his dick again.

“Ha ha, very funny missy.” His voice full of sarcasm only made you laugh. He was crawling his way up to you when you both heard it. Dart Vader’s imperial march was playing. Probably the last movie had just started. You cracked, laughing hard at the situation. You even forgot where you were.

“Who are we kidding, of course in our first time having sex, Dart Vader is going to be marching towards us. It’s your fault” He said playfully

“My fault?! Why?” You asked amused

“Because you’re goofy. There’s no other reason.” You looked inside his eyes. Both of you still smiling. You just had to squeeze his arm so he knew he could move. And that’s what he did.

Slowly, his ran his tip against your wet folds and thrusted inside you. You closed your eyes, feeling his length stretching you open. It burned, making tears swell up in your eyes. Once he bottomed out, you both moaned. Giving you a few seconds to get accustomed to this new feeling, he caressed your waist, grounding you back to him.

He started to thrust slowly into you. It felt like your lungs were out of air. With each thrust of his hips, that started to get a rhythm. The muscles of his arms were flexed, his necklace was swinging, and the hands that before were caressing you, were now holding your hips for goddamn life.

“Holy fuck, you’re so tight” His eyes closed for a second, trying to hold his load a little longer. You watched every move of his. He looked amazing. It didn’t take much time for his dick to reach that spot you struggled to find. It drove you crazy. You arched your back and that made Eddie go faster. You were biting your lip but it wasn’t working anymore. If there was anyone around the van, they would probably hear your moans.

Eddie was also a mess. He wanted to freeze this moment in his mind forever. You looked perfect to him. The sounds you were making, his eyes were rolling back. Your boobs were bouncing up and down with each thrust of his. He looked down where your bodies met and saw the bulge in your lower belly, he didn’t know how long he would take.

“You’re doing so good sweetheart” He pressed kisses on your neck. You weren’t able to talk, but you pulled his hair bringing him closer to you, if that was possible. He groaned feeling you clench around him. He could feel how close you were. Once again, he massaged your clit bringing you to the edge. “Come on princess, cum for me. Just let it go” and with that, you were gone.

“Fuck Eddie” Was the only thing you said.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie

You could only think of him. Your nails scratched his back, your feet pressing on his but so he could go even deeper. Your orgasm washed all over you. With you clenching impossibly tighter around him, Eddie was also gone, cumming hard, biting on your shoulder to control his grutal moans.

When your breathing went back to normal with time, he came out of you taking off his condom and laying by your side.

“You think the van bounced too much?” He said breaking the silence. You laughed at his silliness.

“No. Otherwise people would have come here to ruin everything.” You look at him but he was already looking at you. “They might’ve heard us, though.”

“Nah, they’re nerdy people. They’re probably fantasizing about princess Leia now.” As if if wasn’t a nerd too. “You want to get out of here and go stargazing” He said putting a lock of hair behind your ear.

“That was the plan, wasn’t it?” You pecked him on the lips and got up to put your clothes back on.

And that’s how you wrap up the night. He drove you both to a place where you could see the stars. You kept talking and eating the rest of your candy from the movie. Your first date couldn’t be more perfect than that

[icaruspendragon]

one time I was kayaking with some friends and we came around a bend that had a little beach. the bank held a few families with little kids. all of whom were having a grand time doing river beach in bumfuck, tennessee activities.

as we were out in nature, there happened to be a little snake guy swimming through the water, just minding his business doing river snake in bumfuck, tennessee things.

upon spotting the little snake guy, one of the adults calls the kids back to shore. not an unexpected move as there are several venomous snakes to watch out for in the south–namely copperheads, rattle snakes, and cottonmouths. cottonmouths are also referred to as water moccasins, a moniker earned as they are frequently found in/near bodies of water. most children in the south are taught which snakes to avoid pretty early on. and so understandably the snake warning makes the kids scared. my "brother" skylar was the closest to our slithery little guy. he calls out to the bank that the snake is harmless.

now. as a kid who grew up in bumfuck, alabama watching animal planet I've always loved little creatures.

my summers were spent exploring creeks and swamps looking for crawdads and little fishies and lizards and turtles and snakes and pollywogs and salamanders and frogs.

did this love for little creatures cause an inadvertent introduction of an invasive species? yes. but sometimes childhood curiosity causes whoopsie-doodles.

my love for little creatures never went away. I was curious, not afraid. and as fortune favors the bold, the snake swam my way. once the little creature was close enough, I gently lifted it from the water with my paddle so I could get a better look.

it looked like a snake.

my friend slid off and back into the water, swimming closer to me, under my kayak, then popping up on the other side. now that it was near enough, that childhood curiosity came back in full force. I did what I thought anyone in my situation would do.

I gave my snaky friend a couple of light strokes on the tail as he swam away.

once we were a ways around the bumfuck, tennessee river beach, skylar turns to me and furiously whisper-shouts, "why the fuck did you touch that thing?" confused by his ire I say, "because you said it was harmless?"

he gives me a look that can only be described as incredulous before speaking again, "yeah dumbass. I was lying because I didn't want those kids to freak out. the adults knew what kind of snake it was."

brow furrowed, I demand, "then why the fuck did you let me touch it?"

that's when my husband, who previously hadn't been listening to our conversation asks, "wait? did you really touch it?"

I give him a Look. "of course I did, that shouldn't be surprising."

our party stops paddling, all eyes are now on me.

"you touching a snake isn't the issue. the issue is you touching a water moccasin."

it's my turn to be incredulous. "how the fuck was I supposed to know that? skylar said it was harmless, so of course I touched it!"

"all skylar does is lie to fuck around around with people, something you most definitely know."

skylar chimes in once more, "to be fair to myself, I thought she knew I was lying."

obviously I did not.

anyway. the moral of this story is to not let your childlike wonder in the world around you die so that you may forevermore go on curiosity quests.

also maybe don't trust your "brother" when it comes to venomous wildlife.

[saccharinesatoru]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (m)

Pairing: Gojo x reader (afab)

Genre: cowboy!gojo x bandit!reader + smut

Word count: 5.5k

Summary: You're just an innocent girl who got caught up in a crime. You've never broken the law before and are desperate to stay out of jail. Lucky for you, Sheriff Gojo has just the solution.

Warnings: language, coersion (lowkey highkey), oral (m and f receiving), fingering (f receiving), degradation, praise (like if you squint), penetration (m in f), just really rough sex lmao, maybe typos idk I didn't proofread this

a/n: surprisingly,,,, I'm not dead. i am back. i saw the fanart of cowboy!gojo and never wanted to ride something so badly- and i’m not talking about a horse. oh and i also know little to nothing about cowboys or even the time period that cowboys existed in so i’m sorry if i like,,, get the cowboy lore incorrect lmao enjoy

xx Jay

---

You were fucked. And, fuck, did you know it. 

“You idiot!” you cursed, “Do you wanna die? How could you be so stupid?”

Your partner in crime (literally) turned to you with a crazed grin on his face, high on the rush. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared of some little sheriff.”

The sheriff, in question, is none other than Gojo Satoru. Not only was he the youngest sheriff in the region, but he was an incredible shot and phenomenal horseback rider. The man was known all throughout the west for his strength, wit, and impeccable skill as a marksman. And he just so happened to be the man hunting you down as you speak.  

“Am I scared? Am I scared?” you yell in disbelief, “Hell fucking yeah I’m scared! You just had to rob that bank, didn’t you? Toji, this is insane. We’re going to die, and it’s all because you wanted a little extra cash to blow at some saloon since you’re shit at cards and are always too drunk to make a reasonable gamble!”

His eyes widened at your statement, “I’m just down on my luck that’s all!” 

You roll your eyes and continue pacing around the small room, almost internally counting down the minutes until you're inevitably caught and thrown in a cell to rot. Maybe Toji could tough it out in jail (assuming he wasn’t hanged for his crimes), but you knew you weren’t cut out for that kind of life. It’s not like you meant to get caught up in this life, after all. A few bad decisions led to this nightmare of a reality, and now you were about to ride this sinking ship with the buffoon in front of you who was pushing 40 and still thought it was a good idea to devote the little cash he had on reckless gambling instead of caring for the adorable, perpetually scowling son he left behind to pursue a life of crime. 

“Don’t give me that look, doll,” his tone is sickly sweet but showing no real affection or warmth. “Don’t forget that you’re an accomplice in this crime too. Who was in the carriage waiting for me when I ran out of the bank with the cash, huh? Oh, that’s right! It was you!”

Running your fingers through your hair, you sit down and rest your head in your hands. “Don’t remind me, asshole,” you spit out, tone equally as harsh. “You think I wanted this? I didn’t know you were gonna do that shit! I owed you a favor- one favor, Toji! What, you think because I owed you one, I wanted to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for the most feared sheriff in the west? Believe it or not, but I don’t want to live this way!”

He huffs and sticks a cigar in his mouth, lighting it and letting out a puff of smoke before meeting your eyes again, “Well, tough shit, doll. This is the hand you were dealt, and now you’ve gotta decide whether or not you’re gonna fold.”

You roll your eyes, sensing a migraine coming on. “Shut the fuck up with your poker references, Toji. You’re not good enough at any card game to warrant that kind of talk.”

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You turn around and are about to rip into him when you hear the sound of incoming horses and a voice call out, “They’re just up ahead!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Toji curses as he puts out his cigar and stands up hastily. He looks around the room frantically and meets your eyes before darting out of the shared space.

“Fuck! Toji, come back!” you shout as you rush after him. You’re not all that well-versed on running from the police given you’ve literally never had a reason to do so. To say you’re relying on Toji to get you two out of this predicament is an understatement. After all, that man has committed more crimes than interacted with his own son. 

Running out of the room and following his footsteps, you exit out the backdoor. Your jaw drops to the ground at the sight in front of you. Toji sat on top of your very own horse, grabbing her by the reins and turning to you with a devilish smirk on his face. “Sorry, doll, I gotta cut ties here. ‘Can’t afford to get caught, you know? I’m sure you understand. Let me borrow your horse, yeah? I owe ya one.” 

You can’t even fully process his words, you’re seeing red with the amount of rage consuming you. Frozen in place, you watch Toji ride away on your horse, effectively abandoning the house that was about to be raided by police. 

Toji gets a fair distance away from the house before you hear the same voice yell, “There he is! You lot track him down. I’ll stay back and search the rest of the house. He had an accomplice. I’m sure they’re hiding out here somewhere.”

As soon as the man is done speaking, you hear multiple horses run off in Toji’s direction. You’re scared shitless of what’s to come. You just know the man about to search the house is the famous sheriff you had just been professing your fear of to that backstabbing bum who stole your fucking horse. Even though you know you’re thoroughly, laughably, undeniably fucked, you can’t help but laugh internally at the thought of Toji being captured by the sheriff’s men. You hope they don’t hurt your horse, although you doubt she’ll be yours much longer since you’re about to be sent off to jail. 

Cutting your losses and acknowledging defeat, you walk back into the house, ready to face the renowned sheriff. Walking back into the kitchen, your footsteps alert the man of your location, and he makes his way into the room. 

If you weren’t scared out of your mind at what’s to come, you might have started drooling, honestly. If this man weren’t known for his near superhuman abilities, he would have been known for his looks alone. You had never seen or even heard about a man that looked like him. He had bright white hair that peaked out from his hat. His skin was so fair and beautiful you swore he was made of porcelain. His lips were a pretty pink that somehow had a glimmering shine to them. He wore black denim with a black button up, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his large hands and delectable arm veins. For a reason unknown to you, he wore a blindfold over his eyes. You could only wonder what his eyes looked like, although you imagined they were as beautiful as the rest of him. 

He looked unreal. This whole situation felt unreal. You still hadn’t wrapped your head around the fact that you were about to be arrested let alone the fact that you were standing in a room with a man that looked like that.

“Well, well,” Gojo chuckles, “Here I was thinking Toji’s accomplice had to be some ugly brute with a tobacco addiction. But here you are instead.”

You rocked on the balls of your feet out of nerves, “I- I’m sorry to disappoint.”

He laughs fully this time. “And a sense of humor, too? What did Toji do to get you roped into this in the first place, huh?”

Your eyes widen slightly at this. It’s like he could see right through you. Was it that obvious that you didn’t live a life of crime? You suppose it’s times like this where your naturally expressive face and body language actually benefited you, as Gojo must have known about the true nature of your involvement just by the way you reacted to his presence. 

“I, um…” you tried to pick your words in a way that made you look the least guilty of committing a crime. “I only agreed to help him since I owed him a favor…”

This seemed to pique Gojo’s interest. “Oh? And what did the lying, deceitful, manipulative, gambling addict do to earn a favor from a pretty girl like you?”

Your face flushes when you process his words. Warranted and accurate insults about Toji aside, the human embodiment of perfection called you pretty. 

You must have been frozen in place for a second or two because when you blink again, Gojo is standing closer to you and leaning inward, “Are you with me, sweetheart?”

Eyes widening, you nod your head vigorously and elicit another chuckle from the man. 

“Well,” you sigh after being able to mentally calm yourself, “he helped my family in a tough situation. My mother was very sick, and Toji just so happened to have the proper remedies to heal her…”

Although you can’t see his eyes, you can tell that Gojo raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and his silence prompts you to continue.

“Believe me, I never wanted to help him out. Or, at least, when I agreed to help him, I had no idea he was gonna drag me into this mess. But I couldn’t just walk around my house and pass by my mother without thinking that, if it weren’t for that lunatic, she wouldn’t be with us anymore.”

Gojo hums and brings his hand to his chin as if in thought. “I bet your family would be pretty disappointed to see you now though, right? Doing all this for your mother is admirable, but you still committed a crime… What kind of sheriff would I be if I just let you off the hook because you told me some sob story and batted your eyelashes at me, hm?”

You didn’t know how to react to his words. Sure, he’s right, your family would be disappointed to see you in this position. You’d never gotten into any sort of trouble before- certainly never done anything illegal. 

“You thought you owed a simple favor, sure… But last time I checked, the pathway to heaven wasn’t paved with good intentions.” he tuts. “But jail time seems a little harsh, no? What do you think we can do to solve this little problem?”

Your heart is beating so hard that you wonder if Gojo could hear it from where he stood. “Please, I’ll do anything. I’ve never broken the law before, and I can’t afford to leave my family and go to jail.”

“Anything, huh?” Gojo smirks and pulls down his blindfold to reveal the most striking, beautiful eyes you had ever seen in all your life. “Well, how could I turn down an offer like that?”

You almost didn’t even process his words since you were so stunned by his eyes. In your entire life, you had never seen such a bright, beautiful, magnificent shade of blue. You had seen blue eyes before, sure. But, like the rest of his appearance, his eyes looked mythical. 

“Quiet all of a sudden, huh? No ideas for your substitute form of punishment?” The young sheriff walks around you like a shark circling its prey before the bloody, inevitable attack. “You’re in luck, sweetheart, because I’ve got just the perfect penance for ya.”

Before you could get out a word, he’s behind you and pulling you flush against his firm chest. You let out a soft squeak at the sudden sensation and move to bring your hand to your mouth to prevent any other embarrassing noises from spilling out. Gojo notices your timid movement and quickly wraps an arm around you.

“Nuh uh,” he says in a sing-song tone, “part of your punishment is letting me hear all those pretty little noises of yours, do you understand?”

You nod repeatedly in acknowledgement and remain stiff in his hold, unsure of how to react next. You weren’t entirely dumb. Were you dumb enough to help Toji commit a crime? Yes. But you weren’t so dumb that you didn’t understand what Gojo was hinting at with his little punishment “substitution”. The thought was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. If you had a stronger constitution, you might have just denied Gojo and accepted jail time instead. But, here you were, helpless in his arms and doing your damnedest to keep from embarrassing yourself any further.

Gojo runs his free hand from the top of your shoulder all the way down to your hips. “Such a soft, dainty thing, aren’t ya? Caught up in all of this and so, so desperate for a way out… It’s no wonder why Toji played with you like the toy you are…”

You shiver in his hold. 

“You see, my eyes can be quite sensitive. But now that my blindfold is off…” he leans in closer and inhales against your neck, taking in your sweet scent that he could practically smell the nerves radiating from. “I’ve got a better view of this pretty, little toy. And I’m just dying to play with her.”

He removes the arm from around your waist and begins to unbutton your flannel at a leisurely pace that has you both shaking in your boots (quite literally) while also wishing he’d hurry up and just rip the shirt open completely.

“Never wanted Toji to…” you pause, embarrassed to finish your sentence.

Gojo continues to undress you and just hums against your neck while his long fingers continue their work. “Never wanted Toji to… what, sweetheart?”

You swallow, “Never wanted Toji to… to play with me.”

The young sheriff raises his eyebrows and sports his signature smirk, “Oh, is that so? Does that mean you want me to play with you?”

Clearing your throat, you nod once more, “I’m just trying to follow the law, sir.”

He laughs at that and finally pulls your shirt open and off your body, revealing your bra-clad chest. “Follow the law, huh? Is that what they call it nowadays?” He removes your shirt altogether and undoes the clasp of your bra with almost concerning expertise. “Well, better late than never, I suppose. Maybe you’ve learnt your lesson already… Although, I better punish you further to make sure you don’t forget- just in case.”

Once your torso is completely bare, Gojo spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours. You let out a gasp, and Gojo’s tongue uses the involuntary noise as an invitation to push into your awaiting mouth. 

You’ve kissed your fair share of men before, though most were drunken kisses at saloons that you almost immediately regretted. Kissing Gojo was unlike anything you had ever experienced- practically everything about him was a foreign sensation, honestly. His lips alone had you feeling like you were vibrating, and the faint taste of strawberries on the tall man’s lips left you just as breathless as the kiss made you feel. 

He brings his large hands to your hair and tugs against the strands, making you moan deeper into the kiss. His lips are hungry against yours, and he eats up each and every sound you make from the smallest of whimpers to the sudden gasps. 

You reluctantly pull back for the kiss and look him in the eye, half-lidded and hazy already. “May I… touch you too?” you ask timidly. You’re hoping more than anything he’ll say yes since your fingers are itching to feel even more of him against your skin. 

His lips turn upward slowly, and he removes his hands from your hair. You let out a whine at the loss of contact, but he quickly grabs your hands and brings them to his chest. “Look at you, all polite and obedient. Better late than never, huh?”

He pulls you back into a searing kiss and you move your hands freely along his toned body. He might as well be made of marble with how firm he feels beneath you. When you bring your hands to his hair and run your fingers along the nape of his neck, he groans and brings his hands down to cup your ass which elicits a whine from you. 

He pulls away this time and before you have time to complain, your breath is taken away by the sight in front of you. He pulls open his shirt and quickly removes his belt. Once the belt is off his waist, he pulls it apart with both hands making a snapping noise. His gaze falls to your hands and you wordlessly offer them to the sheriff. He makes quick work binding your wrists with the fabric. “Just like the handcuffs I’ll save for Toji,” he grins and unbuttons his pants. “On your knees for me, honey.”

You fall to the floor, too hungry for him to worry about looking desperate. He chuckles at your reaction and pushes his pants and boxers down in one movement. His cock springs up and slaps his toned stomach.

Although your sexual experience was next to nothing, you knew that Gojo’s cock had to be the prettiest one in the world. You didn’t even need to see another man’s physique to make that conclusion. Hell, you were never the overtly sexual type, but Gojo’s cock basically had you drooling. 

He laughs at your hungry expression. “See something ya like, sweetheart?” 

You nod quickly at his question which draws another chuckle from him. “Well, don’t keep me waiting then. Open that mouth of yours and let’s see if it’s as good at sucking me off as it is at getting you out of trouble.”

You eagerly dive in and wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

Fuck. He tastes as good as he looks. 

Moaning at the flavor on your tongue, you continue to suck on the tip as if it were your favorite candy. He groans at the sensation but breathes out, “I know you can do better than that, pretty girl. You don’t wanna end up in jail, do you?”

Your eyes widen at the statement, and you quickly take him deeper in your mouth. Bobbing your head quickly, you try to take as much of him in your mouth as you can. No matter how much you hollow your cheeks or hold your breath, you can’t manage to fit him all in your mouth. 

How could you? He’s massive. 

To say he’s bigger than any man you had ever been with before doesn’t do justice to how large his cock is. Even when you force him in your mouth to the best of your ability, you’re not even halfway down his length. Every now and then, you keep wanting to reach up and wrap your hands around him before you remember they’re restrained by his belt.

That doesn’t keep you from sucking as if your life depended on it- which it pretty much does. 

Gojo pulls your hair back in a makeshift ponytail and pushes your head down deeper. “Come on, sweets. Take it allll the way.”

You choke around his cock and tears well up in your eyes. Gojo begins to fuck into your mouth and groans loudly, the sounds echoing throughout the empty house. You really wish Gojo would have taken off your pants before you began sucking him off since you feel the increasing discomfort of wetness between your legs confined by denim. 

“Between you and me,” Gojo huffs between moans as he picks up his pace, “I’m glad that Toji didn’t get to see you like this. A dick like him doesn’t deserve a mouth like yours.”

Your eyes roll back at his comment. Desperate for some relief, you rub your thighs together and hope that the friction will alleviate some of the pressure. The young sheriff notices your movement and scoffs. “Didn’t your mama ever teach you some manners? Rubbing those thighs together like some common whore at the saloon?”

You let out a muffled whine at the comment. His words go straight to your cunt and only make you wetter than you already were. He laughs again as if he could sense the impact his words had on you. 

The tears in your eyes begin to spill down your cheeks as the speed of his hips increases even more. “Is that tight little throat of yours ready, sweetheart?”

You try your best to nod despite his massive cock ramming into your open mouth. His breath quickens before he groans loudly and hot cum shoots down your throat. You can help but moan at the sensation too. Your jaw was sore, but the taste of him was definitely worth the discomfort. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Gojo tuts, “Don’t swallow just yet, pretty. Let me see that mouth I just filled.”

Looking up at him with wide eyes, you show him the contents of your mouth and frantically bring your fingers to your lips when some of his cum begins to dribble down your chin. Gojo chuckles at the sight and gently closes your mouth. “Go ahead and swallow every drop, sweetheart. You’ve earned it,” he smirks. 

You greedily swallow the salty substance and even open your mouth again to show him you had done what he asked. 

“You really are a good girl, aren’t you?” Gojo smiles. “But we’re not through with your punishment just yet, pretty. Up against the counter.”

You clumsily rise from the floor and stumble to the counter. Your eagerness makes the man laugh. Once against the hard surface, Gojo bends you over and reaches around to unbutton your pants. Your efforts to contain your excitement don’t go unnoticed by the sheriff as he catches you rubbing your thighs together once more which just makes his cock grow hard once more. 

When he finally pushes down your pants and panties to the floor, he stares at your pussy for what feels like ages. Instinctively, you begin to close your thighs out of shyness. “Oh, no you don’t, sweetheart.” He firmly shoves your legs apart once more. “You’re gonna stay nice and still while I play with this pretty pussy. And if you wanna be a brat instead, then I’d be more than happy to give you this punishment down at the station. Would you and this soaking cunt like an audience?”

“No! No, I’m sorry,” you speak quickly, “I’m just not used to men…touching me there.”

Gojo quirks an eyebrow in confusion, “You mean that no man has ever done… this?” He runs a digit against your folds and you squeak at the feeling. 

“Or… how about this?” Gojo licks a long stipe up your cunt that has you squealing involuntarily. You shake your head as heat rises to your cheeks. The sheriff hums at the revelation. 

A pretty little slut like you hasn’t had her equally pretty pussy played with before? 

It must be his lucky day. 

“Guess you’re in for a treat then, darlin.” Gojo dives right in with his tongue, and you’re unable to conceal your loud moans even if you tried. The way he flicks his tongue against your clit has you practically seeing stars. None of your past sexual partners had ever taken the time to prioritize your pleasure. And after so many disappointing hookups, you ultimately gave up on sex altogether. 

But this changed everything. 

The way his tongue sucked and licked your sopping pussy was nothing short of magic. You had no idea you could even feel this good until now. Gojo’s tongue against your cunt made up for every underwhelming hookup you had ever had. And now that you know what it feels like, you’re hooked. 

“Fuck,” you whine, “That feels so fucking good. Please don’t stop, sheriff.”

The man hums against your pussy and suddenly pushes a finger inside you. You cry out a wanton moan at the sensation and barely have time to adjust before he shoves another digit inside. The two fingers piston in and out of you at a rapid pace. Gojo pulls away from your pussy and you whimper at the loss.

“My, what a dirty mouth you’ve got,” Gojo teases. “Maybe I’ll have to fuck that mouth of yours again just to clean it.”

You instinctively tighten around his fingers over his comment and he emits a loud laugh. “Your cunt is so honest. You don’t even have to speak, because this pretty pussy talks for herself.”

He removes both fingers from you and instead uses them to rub your clit as he shoves his tongue back into your pussy once more. The coupled sensation of his fingers and his tongue has your eyes rolling back and your hands balling tightly into fists. 

Finally snapping out of your daze and able to speak, you whine out, “I’m so close, Gojo. Please let me cum.”

Gojo pulls away for just a second to command, “Cum all over my tongue like the dirty whore I know you are.”

Your scream rings throughout the house as your climax crashes upon you. Your legs are shaking so badly that you almost collapse, and it feels as if electricity is in your veins with the buzz you feel. 

Barely comprehensive, you whimper as Gojo removes his tongue and fingers. Although you can barely stand and would undoubtedly fall to the floor if he continued his attack on your pussy, you already missed the feeling more than you’d like to admit. 

When you finally snap out of your orgasmic daze, you feel Gojo pressed against your backside. 

Fuck. 

If Gojo felt big in your mouth, he felt fucking gigantic against your pussy. It’d be like ramming a train through a keyhole. But even though you knew he’d fuck you within an inch of your life, you felt more arousal trickle down legs just at the thought of it.

He grabbed your hips firmly and lined up the head of his cock against your lips. Dragging his cock up and down your slit, he spread your arousal. 

“Please no teasing,” you beg. “If I have to wait any longer, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Gojo clicks his tongue, “If I weren’t just as eager to fuck this tight little pussy, I’d give you another punishment for being so damn bratty and impatient.”

Clenching his jaw, he slowly pushes the tip in and hisses at the feeling on your warm walls. You can’t help but gasp at the penetration. He’s only stuck the tip in, yet it feels huge. 

After only a moment of keeping the tip within your heat, he all but shoves the rest of his cock inside your weeping pussy. Gojo leans over your back and groans in your ear and you all but scream at the intrusion. 

Before you have time to catch your breath, Gojo begins jackhammering into your cunt at a brutal pace. Tears quickly form in your eyes and drool spills from your lips. He’s just began fucking you and you’re already cockdrunk. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” He moans loudly. “How are you so fucking tight?”

You’re unable to form words as he pistons his hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the house, and you have no doubt that people would be able to hear you all the way from the end of the street. His grunts and groans harmonize with your moans and whimpers. 

He uses one hand to gather your hair and pulls you against his chest. “This is supposed to be a punishment, but look at you,” Gojo grunts. “You’re loving this. You may look the part, but that good girl routine is all an act. Once a whore, always a whore.”

All you can do is whine at his words, unable to form words to respond with. Gojo laughs at the dumb look on your face. 

“What’s that saying? “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time”. And, honey?” Gojo says between moans. “I’m gonna enjoy taking my time with you.”

Beyond what you thought possible, his thrusts increase in their intensity. He’s hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. To say you feel him in your guts doesn’t even come close to describing the sensation. All you know was that you had never felt so full in your entire life. 

“Gojo!” you cry out after a particularly rough thrust. 

The man smiles with a crazed look in his eye. “Oh? Pretty girl can talk now? I must not be fucking you hard enough then.” 

He reaches his hand around your waist and begins furiously rubbing little circles on your clit which has you screaming at the top of your lungs. Your brain was fried at this point. All you could think about was Gojo, Gojo, Gojo…

In your fucked out haze, you tried to maintain your hold on the counter since your legs were going to give out any second now (and Gojo’s grip on your hair was the main source holding you up). The counter top beneath you was covered in your tears and drool, and your bound hands could hardly get a grip on the surface. 

Gojo just continued his aggressive pace as he clenched your hair tightly in his hand. “The idea of Toji trying to get a piece of you just makes me sick,” He spits out. “As if a pathetic criminal like him deserves to feel this cunt.”

Even though nothing romantic or sexual ever transpired between you or Toji, Gojo practically saw red at the mere thought of the older man ever touching you. Though your paths hadn’t crossed officially until this point, Gojo can’t imagine any other man laying a hand on you. Insanely enough, he sped up the speed of his fingers in jealously over the hypothetical situation. 

“G-Gojo, I can’t-” you attempted to string together words. “S’too much.”

He coos in mock sympathy, “Aw, baby can’t take it?”

You just whine in response, so out of your mind with how deep he is inside of you. 

“Well, that’s too bad, sweetheart,” He grunts. “Because this lesson’s not over with just yet.”

Unable to keep your head up, you let it slump down as far as Gojo’s grip on your hair will allow. And just when you think (as much as you even can think with him pummeling his cock in and out of your pussy) the feeling couldn’t get any stronger, Gojo’s tip hits that one spot that has you seeing stars.

“Oh, my god! Fuck, Gojo!” you sob. “Fuck, fuck, I can’t take anymore! I’m gonna cum!”

He continues to ram against your G-spot over and over again until you’re sure your brain is melting. “Go ahead and cum all over cock. Be a good slut for me and show me that you’ve learnt your lesson.”

When the coil in your stomach breaks, you scream at the top of your lungs and squirt all over Gojo’s cock, soaking both of your jeans. You don’t even get a second to recollect the broken pieces of your brain because Gojo continues to fuck you like it’s his last day on Earth. 

“Fuck, did you just soak my jeans, sweetheart?” He half laughs, half groans. Quickly approaching his climax too, he clenches his jaw and furrows his eyebrows. “I’m gonna fill you up, and you’ll tell me what you learnt from this punishment as my cum is dripping out of you.” 

His words go in one ear and out the other. All his words sound like gibberish to you. You feel like you’re going to pass out if he continues at this rate. 

Gojo swears and his hips stammer before he shoots ribbons of cum into your tight pussy. You swear you feel your stomach begin to bloat with the amount he gives you. 

Your body goes limp against Gojo’s, and he holds you up before you collapse. You both whine when he pulls out, and he watches in awe as his cum trickles out of your messy cunt and runs down your shaking legs. 

You’re still on cloud 9 (no, you’re on cloud 100 at this point), and to say your vision is blurry is an understatement. No amount of booze at the saloon could have you drunk like this. 

“Gojo,” you practically slur.

Still out of breath, he manages to laugh at your thoroughly fucked out state, “I know, sweetheart, I know. Look at that cunt, all pretty and sloppy with my cum. Whatta sight for sore eyes…”

He turns you around to face him and holds on to your weakened form. 

“Now,” he begins. “What did you learn from your punishment?”

He could have asked you for your own name and you wouldn’t know the answer. He might as well have filled your skull with cum the way not a single thought was swimming around in your brain.

“I…sorry…” you stutter in confusion. “And Toji…”

Gojo sighs condescendingly. Even though he asked the question, he knew you’d never be able to answer. That was the goal all along. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart… But that wasn’t the answer I was looking for,” Gojo sighs with a mocking pout to match yours. He pulls you closer and you snap out of your daze with widened eyes as you feel his hardened cock once more. “I guess I’ll just have to teach the lesson again.”

---

lmao uhhh yeah there we go if you made it this far thanks for reading <3

taglist: @browniebigga @ourfinalisation @idolingalong

[burningcheese-merchant]

I said sometime ago that Matar Paneer has a bird friend. Behold

To summarize, since I already explained before and don't want to bore anyone: Paneer found him in a tree as a little peachick, tragically orphaned after his family was attacked, killed and eaten in their nest by a predator. Not wanting him to be alone, she brought him back home and fought for him to stay, to which her parents eventually agreed (Paneer does not take "no" for an answer ever). Besides Pepper Jack, he's her best friend in the whole world and they're practically inseparable.

Extra bird factoids:

Obviously, his physical appearance is extremely abnormal. Instead of the typical green, his train/display feathers are a bold and impressive mixture of reds, oranges and yellows; nothing but warm, vibrant colors that almost make him look as though he's catching fire. Furthermore, and perhaps even more strangely, he seems to be made up of triangles: triangular "eye" patterns in his feathers, triangular markings underlining his eyes, triangular crest feathers, even triangular pupils... No one is certain why he looks like this; it's mostly been waved away as a bizarre phenotypic mutation

He is also abnormally intelligent. He appears to understand human/cookie speech and even responds when directly addressed/conversed with (as much as he can, being a peacock). He understands photos, he recognizes himself in mirrors, he's even demonstrated some problem-solving/critical thinking skills a few times. Extremely impressive for an animal (esp for a peacock, which are pretty dumb irl)

He sits at the table with the rest of the family during meals. His first night with them after being taken in, Paneer set him down next to her plate so he could reach the food (he was super smol), which her parents didn't like. They argued about it until Paneer grabbed Paravani + her food and sat down to eat on the floor in protest (Paravani is family, family sits at the table, if he can't sit there then she can't, either), after which they caved (MP is STUBBORN you have to understand) and let him sit. He sat on the table proper while he was a chick and got his own chair when he grew large enough

Paneer considers him her friend and her equal and does not take kindly to him being referred to/treated as a pet

He mimics Paneer's actions often. Like, if she tilts her head to one side, he'll do the exact same thing. It's cute

Paravani is very curious and adventurous in nature, and normally quite friendly/approachable unless you give him a reason not to be. Even then, he's slow to anger and usually becomes skittish instead; to truly anger him, you have to hurt Paneer, whom he is very protective of

As a chick, he would hide in Paneer's hair when he was scared

He does get along well with the rest of the family - but while he got on with Pepper Jack and Golden Cheese right away (bird people + he could sense their kind natures immediately), he was terrified of Burning Spice for quite some time (it's mostly because of how he looks. He looks like a predator to him). It took a while of Spice deliberately appearing docile/nonthreatening and the others insisting that Spice is nice for Paravani to overcome his reservations. Nowadays he's as fond of Spice as he is everyone else

As I mentioned here, Matar Paneer takes after Kartikeya, Hindu god of war and victory and Shiva's second son. Kartikeya is known for having a peacock as a mount, named Paravani. Keeping in line with this, not only did I give Paneer a peacock as a companion, but one day, her Paravani will grow big enough for her to sit and ride around on, just like Kartikeya's. No one knows why this happens, either. It freaks a lot of people out. Once again his unique features are written off as "mutations + lol Beast-Yeast creature")

Matar Paneer always blames herself for his family's deaths. She thinks that, if she'd found them in time, she could've fended off the predator and saved them, and Paravani wouldn't have been orphaned. Giving him a home and good company was the absolute least she could've done for him...

[vikspretty]

dance with me

in which neither you nor spencer can sleep, so you dance

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x reader

tags: gn!reader (i think), they love each other (in secret), post season 2 reid but no specific season, fluff fluff fluff, confessions.

notes: my love, spencer reid. i love the idea of dancing in the refridgerator light (ts reference!) and spence seems like the kind of guy who would love to just hold his partner close and sway, kinda like how he did with maeve :(. i also really wanna run my hands through his hair while looking him in the eyes.

wc: 798

"Another show's off and runnin', Dance with me, cuz there's a storm a commin' Follow my boots, try to keep up, Dance with me, until sun up." — Kate Denson's "Dance with Me"

The knock at your door was unexpected, but from it being 2am, you knew there was only one person it would be.

You and Spencer had an unspoken tradition of turning up at each other's apartments in the middle of stormy nights. Usually there was some warning but tonight there was none.

Opening the door, you see Spencer, wet from the rain and bags under his eyes. Though you did not work with him, you were well aware of his job and how demanding it could get.

"Hey, can't sleep?" You ask, though you already knew the answer.

The only reply you got was a small, almost unnoticeable nod from Spencer. With no further thinking, you stepped to the side, opening your door wider to allow him in. You gave him a soft smile as he passed you, closing and locking the door behind him.

Without saying anything else, you started up some coffee and turned on some background music on your speakers while you waited for it. Meanwhile, Spencer had dropped his bag by your front door with his shoes and met you in your kitchen. The feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist from behind and his head burrowing in your neck was comforting.

You could tell something was troubling his mind - that was usually the reason either of you would turn up at the other's door - but rather than making him delve into it like you would know he wouldn't like, you decided to make sure he knows that you are there for him.

Without moving away from him, you turned yourself around in his arms to face him. You gave him a soft, knowing smile, meeting your hands together at the back of his neck.

In your dreams, this would be the part where you two kiss, but the fear of rejection prevented you from making it a reality, despite how much Spencer also wished to kiss you too.

Feeling a little flushed, you turned back to making the coffee before an idea came into mind.

You grabbed Spencer’s hand, who was just watching you from behind, and led him further into the middle of your kitchen.

“Dance with me?”

Spencer just nodded, hands coming to your waist again while yours met behind his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

The quiet and darkness of the apartment along with the low volume of the music was relaxing. You made eye contact with him, smiling at him yet again.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Your voice was soft and quiet, gently breaking the silence.

Instead of replying, he shook his head ‘no’ and looked down. You just nodded and continued to sway with him.

You wanted to say how much you wanted to be with him, opening your mouth to speak again, you closed it immediately, deciding against it.

“What is it?” Spencer asked. The question took you by surprise, not expecting him to have seen you prepare to talk. In his mind, you were going to end everything now, drained, exhausted and bored of him showing up then refusing to talk.

You took a deep breath and decided to just go with it. “Spencer, I’m so sorry, this is not what you need right now, especially with everything you’re going through, but I like you. To be honest I think I’m in love with you but I don’t want to scare you off too much,” you were rambling now, looking down at your feet, unaware of Spencer’s shocked but happy expression as you continued. “I am well aware you don’t feel the same and I don’t even understand why I’m telling you this but-”

The feeling of lips on yours shocked you. You didn't know how to act or what to do for a few seconds. When Spencer realised you weren't kissing back, he pulled back with a smirk, a complete 180 to how his face had been the entire time he had been with you tonight. "Sorry, you were putting yourself down and I couldn't take it anymore. I love you. I have loved you since the third time you let me in here at 3 in the morning. You let me in whenever I turn up with no questions then you don't push when I don't want to talk."

"I love you, Spencer."

Both with bright smiles now, you hugged closer, Spencer's hands coming up to the top of your back and his face in your neck. One of your hands ran through the hair on the back of his head while your other pulled him closer to you.

The both of you were quiet, basking in the love of each other while you continued to dance to the music in your kitchen.

so i know i said id make this one longer but it just didnt. i tried adding more but nothing would fit so here this is. i do kinda like the idea of this one but its just really short. either way, i hope you enjoyed and please send requests, the people i can write for are in my masterlist!

@cafekitsune made the dividers here!

thank you for reading!

[ilwonuu]

Not sure if this is the best idea, i’m just spitballing tbh.

Virgin reader who is really and I mean REALLY scared they won’t be good or make [member] feel good. (You can pick which member lol)

Maybe that’s corruption kink? Idk lol I just had to get it out of my head.

omg yes!!! i hope this is okay!! lmk if this is completely not what you wanted😭😭 THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST<3 also so sorry this took FOREVER for me to get out.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ make you feel ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

༝༚ lee minho

𖣠 summary- your boyfriend wants to make you feel good. you’re scared you won’t be able to do the same for him. he is quick to change ur mindset.

𖣠 warnings- first time, protected sex (reader is on the pill), creampie, minho has a corruption kink kind of, dirty talk, reader is inexperienced.

𖣠 a/n- lmk if you want a part 2 heheh

you and your boyfriend are watching a movie. cuddled up in your boyfriends arms. his attention shifts to you. his hand was already mindlessly rubbing your thigh. he gives you a soft smile.

“baby.” he says suddenly. “hm?”

you look at him waiting for what he’s going to say. “bored of the movie?” you ask now realizing he’s pulling you closer to him.

“thinking about you, not the movie.” he is smiling innocently at you.

he knows his smile is applying anything but innocent acts. “what about me?” he kisses your neck gently in response.

“always thinking about you doll. want you always.” you grew slightly nervous at his words. shifting a little still focused on your boyfriends touch.

“want to please you..baby can i?” his boldness catching you completely off guard. you nod but your own words stop your movements.

“what if i can’t please you?” you shaky response causing his hand to stop against your thigh.

“doll what do you mean?” his face is in a confused expression waiting for you to explain your words.

“like you..you know have had sex before so you know what you’re doing. i have no idea what to do. what if its not good?” you say the last part of your sentence quietly. you turning away with the embarrassment. you can’t look your boyfriend in the eyes.

“baby do you really think that?” his hands are intertwined with yours now. “you make me feel good every day. why would this be different doll? you’re perfect.” his grip on your hands making you feel more comfortable but not completely shaking the feelings you have away.

“i’m just nervous i won’t be what you want.” his head is immediately shaking no.

“baby don’t ever think that. you’re everything i want. let me show you i mean every word i say.” one of his hands have moved from yours and is now holding your waist. “i promise you’ll be perfect.” he kisses your cheek.

“o-okay yea i want to minho. i trust you.” he nods. “if you want to stop at any point we can okay?” he is guiding you two in your shared bedroom. he is quick to lay you back against your pillows.

he pulls his shirt off quickly. your eyes are watching him intensely. “you still feel comfortable doing this baby?” he asks you again. leaving a gentle kiss against your head. “yes. i want you..” you say feeling embarrassed again about how much you actually did want this.

you want to make him feel good. you want to be good for your boyfriend. still anxious about losing your virginity for the first time. you and minho have only gone as far as kissing. he never pushed you further knowing you weren’t ready.

your boyfriend was patient with you as anyone should be. he loved you.

“i got to prep you first okay? don’t want to hurt my girl.” his words making you more aware of your arousal. you nod watching him move to hover over you on the bed. he pulls you into a deep kiss. you don’t hesitate to respond kissing him back.

your kiss feeling more desperate as it lasts. he pulls away to ask your permission to take your clothes off you.

“can i take this off doll?” he asks referring to your shirt. “yes minho.” you sounding more needy. he gently takes ur shirt off. before asking for your permission for the rest of your clothes to come off. you comply feeling slightly embarrassed being fully naked in-front of him.

he is quick to compliment you. “you look so beautiful y/n. so perfect.” he kisses you again you feel his hand move down to your thigh. “can i baby?” he pulls away from the kiss rubbing your thigh.

“p-please.” you mentally curse at yourself for stuttering. he smirks slightly just nodding at your response. you feel his thumb creep up your slit making you shudder under his touch. you feel his thumb against your clit rubbing gently. his eyes are on your face looking for your reaction to the new feeling.

you are gasping against his touch. “m-minho oh-“ he’s easing a finger into you. causing you to moan loudly. his movements are gently and slow.

“doing so well doll. do you feel okay?” he asks you as he keeps his thumb against your clit. you nod quickly. “f-feels so good minho.” he smirks at your words speeding up his fingers against you. you are moaning his name loudly.

“do you think you can handle another finger baby?” he asks you kissing you waiting for your response. “yea- i can take it.” you moan out feeling more needy every second.

“okay doll. tell me if it’s uncomfortable.” he says into your neck. you feel a second finger slide into your cunt. he curses how his finger slides right in. you feeling yourself getting wetter under his touch.

his fingers are fucking into you a pace that has your eyes rolling back. his thumb on your clit is sending you over the edge. “minho- it feels so good i-“ your words flowing out of you. “yea doll? you look so beautiful. taking it so well.” his voice is sweet but lust filled. he is gentle but moving his fingers fast enough to please you perfectly.

“baby- i think im gonna c-cum.” you moan out. his eyes don’t leave you as he continues to finger you.

you are cumming hard on his fingers. desperate moans of his name flowing out of you. “fuck doll. doing so well creaming on my fingers.” his words causing you to moan out again.

“i love y-you.” is all you can say through coming down from your orgasm.

“i love you more baby.” you watch as he his shifting between your legs. pulling off the rest of his clothes. “you ready baby?” he asks kissing your head gently. you nod quickly watching as he is positioned at your entrance. “yes i w-want you.” you moan at him.

“you’re still on the pill right doll?” he is rubbing your hip gently. “yea.” you are becoming more impatient as he nods. “okay baby im gonna put it in. tell me if you want to stop” you nod as you feel the stretch of his dick inside you.

“o-oh fuck doll.” his hips are stuttering slightly at how tight you are. “minho- you’re so big.” tears are threatening at your eyes. “yea baby. you’re doing so well tell me when i can move.” he is not fully bottomed out. he ie waiting for you.

“i t-think you can move.” you are tearing up from the pain and the pleasure. “you sure baby?” he asks. looking at you for approval. “yes p-please minho.” he doesn’t waste another second before his is shallowly thrusting into you.

“oh fuck baby you feel so fucking good.” his groans are desperate and loud. you have never seen him so needy for you. your moans filling the room aswell. “minho- f-fuck so good.” he smirks slightly fucking you quicker. “fu-fuck is this o-okay doll?” he asks before continuing. you nod quickly.

“p-please don’t stop.” his hips stutter at your words feeling closer to cumming so quick. “baby i wanted to fuck you like this for so long. even better than i imagined. perfect girl.” his words going straight to your cunt. you are a moaning mess. tears falling from your eyes. he wipes then away holding your waist gently. he moves his thumb down to rub at your puffy clit.

“cum with me baby.” he says fucking you deep. “m-minho! oh my god.” he moves down so his face is buried in your neck. his groans filling your ears. “i’m- fuck im cumming doll.” he breathes another groan before painting your walls with his thick cum. the feeling bringing you to your orgasm.

“fuck baby just like that. cum on my dick.” he doesn’t stop his thrusts. fucking his cum deeper into you. you cry out at the overstimulation. he gently pulls out before looking at you again. “can i please eat you out now?”

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

How would the Tmnt bros (2003) react to a best friend who has a crush on them and at first they don't feel the same way, But way later on they develop feelings for their friend but theres that bit of awkwardness in that they already rejected said Friend's prior confession.

And like the friend took the rejection well and is trying to move on, though theres a bit of tension as the friend is subtly trying to avoid like being alone or like to close physically with their turtle crush so as to not make them uncomfortable and even gets on a dating app (with 0% success there lol) They atleast hide their still very much there feelings and are good at not being obvious they are still down bad for the turtle.

Also I cant get enough of your writing! I love it so much Always looking forward to the next post, Hope your having a wonderful week!

Hey anon! Sorry for the long wait! Thank you so much for your kind words <3 I really hope you enjoy this one!

Awkward…

🐢💙❤️TMNT ‘03 x Reader💜🧡🐢

Word Count: 642

CW: Gender-neutral reader, referred to as ‘you’, a bit more on the angsty side for some, for others they get a bit of fluff. The boys and Mikey don’t know how to healthy deal with their emotions. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

🐢💙Leonardo💙🐢

💙 Leo feels like a huge dick. Like, seriously. He felt really bad having to reject you, now he feels really bad that suddenly he feels those same feelings. Like, man. This is NOT what he wanted.

💙 Will actually avoid you at all costs because he feels so bad, he’s trying to focus on other things. He luckily feels better in a group setting so it’s just not you and him.

💙 He misses old times quite a bit, and when he sees the obvious signs that you’re still into him, he’s a mess. Man is just a goddamn mess. Like what’s he supposed to do in this situation? He’s heavily considering talking to you about this but he’s also very scared too.

🐢❤️Raphael❤️🐢

❤️ Despite your confession, you and Raph remained rather close, I mean he wouldn’t ever let little feelings like that ruin— And he’s caught feelings too. Right after he’s rejected you. Oh he feels awful.

❤️ Taking his frustrations out on the punching bag and sparring lately, RIP Mikey. He’s just really upset, because not only did he reject you, but he’s seen those dating apps on your phone too. He wants to sincerely make it up to you.

❤️ Isn’t sure if he should shoot his shot or just let it be and wait and see if these feelings go away or get stronger… He chooses to wait. He chooses to see if these feelings just happened because of the confession and they’re a short time thing. Will shoot his shot a year or two later if you’re both still feeling the same and you’re still single.

🐢💜Donatello💜🐢

💜 Poor Donnie’s brain is going haywire. It was about three months later that he rejected you that he suddenly caught feelings, and it suddenly occurred to him while he was working on his latest invention. And he could not stop thinking about it either.

💜 Dude was panicking a lot when he first realized, and honestly felt himself wanting to cry. He was overwhelming himself at the moment and ended up going to Master Splinter for comfort. After that fiasco, he’s very distant. Like, he’s worse than Leo, kind of distant. He’s just drowning himself in his work and it takes a toll on him mentally.

💜 You end up catching him one day and forcing him to talk, and he finally kinda admits that he’s been feeling like shit because he’s rejected you, and that he randomly caught feelings as well. You two certainly talked for hours, trying to get it sorted out. And if either goes: You two remain friends and try to move past this. Or, you both give a possible relationship a chance after spending more time together.

🐢🧡Michelangelo🧡🐢

🧡 To say he didn’t expect this was an understatement, the feelings just kinda hit him out of nowhere. When you helped him patch up after a skateboard trick gone-wrong, it hit him. Mikey liked you, but he already rejected your confession. Uh oh.

🧡 He definitely thinks on it, for once, instead of going in and flirting with you. For once he was thinking about this, as he felt guilty about it. When he’s thought about it, he’s probably gonna be the only one who’s open about it unlike the rest of his brothers, only one that has really healthy communication.

🧡 When he’s open and honest, he’s extremely nervous, I mean, who wouldn’t be? Rejecting you then telling you how he feels about you is pretty messed up. Luckily, the two of you talk it out and try to reconcile and work it out. Luckily, your feelings were still there and blazing, and it’d take a bit before you could completely forgive him, but you both worked it out. You’re giddy to say you have a date on Friday and you’ve deleted all the dating apps off your phone within minutes after you and Mikey’s big talk.

[moodymisty]

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Based off of this post where we all collectively lost our minds. You guys gotta stop distracting me I'm trying to finish editing the Sicarius bully ch2 lol

Relationships: Issak (Night Lord OC)/Fem!Reader (only because the word she is used twice)

Warnings: Blood, Tattoos, Kind of slavery??, loss of bodily autonomy, Night Lords content

The tattoo no longer aches, thankfully.

When it had been done your shoulderblades ached down muscle deep, from your body tensing and the vibration of needle after needle after needle. But now the skin is entirely healed, and it can be touched without pain.

Isaak pushes the fabric covering your new tattoo away, revealing it to him. It also reveals a wealth of bruises, marring your shoulders and arms. You Wrap your arms around your chest, but he's too interested in your back to care about the fact that your robes have fallen to your waist.

"And who did all this?"

He says, referring to your wounds. You watch and feel his scarred, pale hands trail along your shoulderblades.

You had known something was wrong when the armouring room was cast in a veil of silence, and you'd looked around with wide eyes.

The sound of the door's lock had triggered a most primal sense of fight or flight the moment it went off, and your heart slammed against your chest like it was trying to free itself. But by the time you even managed to move your feet you saw that three Night Lords were already inside with you, prowling like beasts having just found new prey.

One came closer and grabbed you tight, your clothing sliding off your shoulder just enough to reveal the very top of the left wing of your tattoo. He yanked you closer, ignoring your yelp of pain as he threatened to dislocate your arm. The other two lingered, and had watched while letting the one grabbing you make the first move.

"What's this?"

He says, shortly before he ripped the fabric and revealed more of your tattoo. He leaned in closer, seeing the intricate wings spawning from a fanged skull. The other two Night Lords looked to the one grabbing you, as he lost his grin. He pushed you away, snarling and letting out a puff of air from his scarred lips.

"...Fuck, she's marked. And I know who she belongs to."

You could feel the pain of growing bruises on your skin, holding your arms close to your chest as you watched them.

The three of them could smell the Night Lord blood embedded, mixed in the ink of your tattoo, and decided the fight wasn't worth it. You watched the three of them wander off in search of another serf, unclaimed, and you hope for the sake of the others on board they come up empty. Though you doubted they would.

As despite the fear of attaching yourself to a Night Lord, as mercurial and twisted as they may be, it grants a safety aboard the ship that many are desperate for.

You had begged Issak for it, with tears in your eyes.

You have done work for him dutifully for months but you could only evade becoming victim to another Night Lord in search of a toy to play with for so long. To be marked and claimed would be the safest you could be aboard the ship.

"I know that I step out of line to beg an astartes, but I promise to do whatever you ask of me without fail. Just please, I beg you save me from them..."

Issak had no personal serfs, hence why you had thought it a fruitless effort to beg him to mix his blood with ink. But you could think of no others that you could ask, not ones that were as merciful as Issak has been to you.

But he did, and you thanked him profusely for the safety it gave you. He always gleamed whenever you said it.

"I don't know who they were," You said, replying to his question. "There were three, they cornered me in the armouring room. They were scared off when they saw the tattoo." He hums, feeling you shake under his grip.

"If I didn't have it, I... Thank you,"

You don't want to imagine what would've happened had the three of them saw you were an available, unowned serf. One that no one would know disappeared. Issak laughs at you, his chest rumbling against your shoulders.

"You're shaking like a little animal. You'll be fine; They know that if they take you, I'll rip them apart."

You nod, and nod again and again, silently reassuring yourself and thanking him. You've had so many close calls, but now you have a place to retreat.

But even if you have a rabbit hole to hide in, it came at a cost. His blood runs through the ink of your tattoo, and you'll never be rid of him. You are safer, but it came at the cost of your dignity and your freedom. What little you had. Whatever he asks of you is now your duty to give to him, no matter what. That was the cost of your tattoo.

Issak picks you up, roughly carrying you in his arms.

"If you tell me what they looked like, I can bring you a trophy. Would that make you quit the crying?"

You look at him in shock, rubbing your eyes; You know Night Lords will look for any excuse to start a fight, but his casual gusto to kill a fellow of his legion is surprising. He sighs.

"Fine. You baselines are always so difficult."

He throws you onto his cot, your robes halfway off your shoulders revealing your collarbone, and you watch the scarred visage of a Night Lord consume your entire vision.