#but they really didn't have to go so hard

[reasonsforhope]

By the way, if you're coming up on graduating soon, whether from middle school or high school or college, there's a very good chance you're stressed and, if you're anything like me, potentially pretty scared about how it's going to go once you're out of the world you know.

So let me offer some words of reassurance:

Growing up is great. I know it's scary and sometimes it sucks, but big picture, I genuinely think growing up is great.

(I say this as someone who had a p Not Fun Time when I was younger, so btw, that's both my bias and also proof that you do NOT have to have had a good childhood/adolescence to enjoy growing up.)

Leaving middle school? Fantastic. One of the greatest blessings of life is no longer being in middle school. At least 95% of adults will agree with me on this. (translation: ages 11-14 in the US)

Leaving high school? A bigger jump, and adulthood has a lot of stuff to figure out, but honestly really nice! The vast majority of adults would also agree with me that "No longer being in high school" is one of the great blessings of life! You just get so much more autonomy, potentially in not having to go to school/do homework and/or just as a newly legal adult. Also, most jobs are both easier and more bullshit than high school, and college is at least way less strict/gives you so much more autonomy/treats you like an adult (translation: ages 14-18 in the US)

(And because I know some of you are like me and definitely wondering: No, you do not have to ask to go to the bathroom or to leave the class in college, and yes, it is glorious.)

Leaving college? A good thing! Next stage in your journey! Yeah, if your college experience didn't suck, you probably have some things you're really gonna be sad to lose, but that's not inherently a bad thing! And if your college experience did suck, then the prize is no longer being in college! And whatever the case, just like for high school, I promise that the vast majority of jobs are both less easier and more bs than being in school (translation: tertiary education, ages = adult, yes this explicitly includes community college and trade school)

Seriously. It might be hard, but there's a very, very good chance things will be easier than you fear. You've got this.

[darkmatilda]

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer needs your help examining a crucial piece of evidence...but the moment he sees you, his mind goes blah blah blah...proper name, place name, backstory stuff...

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist! female reader, same reader as in pick your poison but you don’t need to read that first—there aren’t any major references, suggestion that the reader engages in casual hook ups, reader has a belly button piercing and a described outfit, spencer's pov only

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2k

𝐚/𝐧: requested by @trulymadlydarling it was slowly gathering dust in my inbox 😭 sorry!

"I think the threshold of my lab isn't exactly the best place for camping."

A woman's silhouette cast a shadow over Spencer as she appeared right above him in the dimly lit hallway.

Spencer sighed in frustration and hauled himself to his feet. As he brushed off his pants, he kept his eyes off the woman in front of him.

"Well, I didn't think you'd make me wait fifty-eight—"

"Oh, just say the hour. Is rounding numbers really that hard for you?" she scoffed, her voice carrying a trace of genuine curiosity. She swiped her access card, unlocking the door to the lab. With her back turned to him, he took in her appearance—an oversized fur coat draped over her shoulders, a designer handbag hanging from one arm. His gaze drifted downward, and to his surprise, he noticed…pajama pants and slippers?

"You should be grateful I even bothered to show up at this hour," she added.

"This is really important," Spencer replied as she led him inside.

She moved through the space with effortless familiarity, heading straight for the light switch. Well, this was her domain, after all—the place where she spent most of her days.

"I don't care," she replied. "Unless you've found proof that Marilyn Monroe was the Zodiac Killer all along—then, well, I care a little. Honestly, you have no idea how much you owe me for showing up..."

He rolled his eyes.

"Should I be thanking you on my knees, or...?"

"I could have been busy. I could have been out with the girls at a club. I could have been having the night of my life..."

"I get it, you made a huge sacrifice answering my request, but can you now—"

"I could have been in bed already. My own. Or not my own," she glanced at him over her shoulder. "Though in that case, I wouldn’t have picked up."

Spencer simply sighed. By now, he was used to it—the way most of their conversations followed the same pattern. How she always set the pace, steering the direction as she pleased. How she sometimes deliberately ignored his words and didn’t care if it made her seem rude. How, in general, she didn’t care what impression she left on others.

He had witnessed it countless times, found it irritating every single time, and yet—every single time—he kept the conversation going. Funny.

She switched on only one of the lights, leaving the room bathed in a soft twilight. Her handbag landed on the long counter beside one of the microscopes, and she tossed her fur coat next to it, completely unconcerned about knocking something over.

Sometimes, he watched her with quiet fascination—the effortless confidence in her movements—and wondered if she had ever, even once, smacked her hip against a doorframe. Or stubbed her toe on a cabinet. Those small, mundane humiliations and everyday mishaps simply didn’t seem to fit with who she was.

He tightened his grip on the plastic bag he had brought with him, the one containing something that needed to be examined. The team didn’t know about it yet.

The thought, the theory, had quite literally yanked him out of sleep. He couldn’t function without checking this lead immediately. But he knew that if he went through the lab, he’d have to wait until morning for the results…so he decided to ask for a friendly favor.

Okay friendly was a big word.

They had known each other for a few months, worked together on several cases, gone on a date, slept together.

Not necessarily in that order.

He was just about to open his mouth, say something, hand her the bag… when, for the first time, he actually saw her in better light than the dim glow—or rather, lack of it—in the hallway. Against his own will, his gaze started its journey over her.

From the slippers on her feet, up the loose pajama pants that ended just below the piercing in her navel, the black camisole with thin straps, to her face—completely free of makeup.

Until now, he had only seen her in two versions. One was her usual, elegant work attire. The other was her evening look—form-fitting, designed to turn heads and keep them there.

On second thought, there was also a third version. Without clothes.

But he had never seen her like this. Casual, comfortable, dressed for nothing more than wandering the walls of her own apartment.

She lifted her arms to tie her hair into a ponytail, and her shirt rode up slightly.

“If my piercing fascinates you that much, I can give you my piercer’s number,” she offered dryly, a fleeting smirk on her lips as she caught his stare. He immediately snapped his gaze back to her face, cursing internally when he realized he probably looked like he had been caught staring. Which, of course, he hadn’t been. “Excellent work. Full professionalism. Experienced hands…”

"I need you to check this stain," he interrupted, raising the bag.

They had been talking too much, and he really needed to know if his suspicions were correct.

She stepped closer to take the bag from him.

“Is this a crucial piece of evidence, or can I touch it?”

“You can touch it…”

She stopped just a step away, shifting her weight onto one hip and tilting her head to get a better look.Spencer instinctively straightened, feeling a strange tension along his spine.Earlier, he had been looking at what she was wearing. Now, what caught his attention was how she looked.

There’s a certain kind of beauty you never quite get used to, no matter how often you see it. The kind that, every time, knocks the air from your lungs for just a second—that fleeting disbelief that someone like this actually walks the earth.

She had it. She radiated it.

And she was just a step away.

She took the garment out of the bag. It was a red turtleneck sweater. She lifted it higher toward the light, furrowing her brow as she examined the stain.

Spencer’s gaze fell on her beautiful face, her eyes shimmering slightly, her lower lip slightly pursed in thought.

Suddenly, she scoffed, snapping him back to reality.

"Mystery solved, and I didn’t even need a microscope," she said, shoving the sweater back into his hands. As he took it, his fingers brushed against hers, catching him slightly off guard. "It’s foundation. I’d recognize that stain anywhere. So, hooray, happy to help, no need to put me in the case report, have a good night, and see you—"

He grabbed her wrist before she could step away, stopping her in place.

"This isn’t a joke," he said, his voice dropping, tinged with sudden irritation.She raised an eyebrow at both his tone and the way he—unintentionally—closed the distance between them. As usual, she looked him straight in the eyes, and as usual, it was hard not to be drawn in. But he tried, because this case was really consuming his thoughts. "Listen, I called you because I need someone to actually test it. Not just glance at it. It'll only take a moment, and then you can go back to crawling into bed with whoever you want. Can you do that?"

The second-to-last sentence made her expression shift slightly.

For a moment, they stood there, unwavering, eyes locked without so much as a blink. Then, the corners of her lips tugged upward—just barely. But it felt more like a forced gesture, an attempt to maintain her carefully practiced expression, rather than a sign of genuine amusement.

"Alright," she replied softly. Not to be mistaken for shyly. There was nothing shy about her, a fact he was reminded of constantly.

"I’ll test it, since it matters so much to you. And then I’m going back to bed." A slow blink before she yanked the sweater from his hands. "With whoever I want."

Why did swallowing suddenly stop being an automatic reflex and turn into something he had to consciously work through?

"That’s great," he said shortly, dryly. He could feel himself slipping into the trap again, letting her toy with him. "Have fun."

"I will."

With that simple assurance, she walked away, and the very particles of air around him seemed to loosen, finally allowing him to breathe again. He turned after her instinctively, the way a swivel chair spins when someone sets it in motion.

She crossed the lab table and leaned over an empty workstation—empty, like all the others. The entire width of the counter separated them now, along with the return of cool detachment to her face. Slowly, Spencer rested his hands on the smooth surface, watching as she got to work. Watching as her hair bounced slightly with the shift in position. Watching as her jaw tensed in concentration. Watching as she leaned over the workstation slightly.

"So," she began flatly, not pausing her work or even looking at him.

Spencer gave his head a small shake, realizing that this time, he really had been staring. At least she hadn’t seen it.

"What exactly am I testing?"

His gaze drifted to her again.

"Something related to the case."

"Wow, I never would've guessed."

He was too distracted to mentally slap himself for how pathetic he was. 

"Uh, it’s not exactly groundbreaking," he began.

He could focus—he just had to try hard enough. He just had to clear the lingering trace of her scent from when she’d stood so close. Had to shake off the echo of her words. With whoever I want, she had said. The more he thought about it, the more accurate it seemed. He firmly believed she could have whoever she wanted. With that confidence. With that face. With that body…

"That’s why I’m checking it after hours. Just, you know…backstory stuff…"

A sound escaped her lips—somewhere between a scoff of disbelief and a startled laugh. She looked at him—no, she pinned him with her gaze.

"Backstory stuff?" she repeated, her lips curling into a smile. Not even a mocking one anymore. She was genuinely amused. "Did you, Doctor Spencer Reid, when asked what the evidence pertains to, actually respond with backstory stuff…?"

“No, I…I mean…”

“Oh God, it’s a good thing they don’t put you in front of cameras. Imagine you, at a press conference. Just casually dropping backstory stuff on national television…”

“I can handle myself in front of cameras,” he clarified, feeling an odd warmth creep up the back of his neck. “But there aren’t any here. And besides, I didn’t realize you wanted me to recite the entire case file from memory…”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said with another amused snort. “Backstory stuff is actually a surprisingly accurate term. You know, very professional.”

He rolled his eyes, feigning irritation, though what he really felt was more akin to embarrassment.

“Speaking of professionalism, maybe you could get back to work?” he suggested.

“I don’t have to,” she replied, flashing him a sweet smile. “I already checked everything. And I was wrong. It’s not foundation—it’s nitroglycerin.”

Spencer’s jaw practically hit the floor.

For the first time since stepping into the lab, his mind was running at full capacity.

"Nitroglycerin? Are you sure?"

"Well, I don’t get these things wrong," she said, almost offended.

"Nitroglycerin," he repeated in a whisper.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Suddenly, everything made sense.

She leaned her elbows on the table, watching him with interest.

He wanted to kiss her.

No—he did not—

"Thank you," he blurted out, her words becoming background noise as his thoughts raced. "Thank you for coming. This…this really helps. I have to tell the team—"

He turned toward the door, dazed by the realization.

Something stopped him.

"Spencer," she called gently.

She didn’t seem angry that he was leaving so abruptly. If anything, there was a certain soft glint in her eyes, a quiet fascination with his sudden revelation. Standing in the doorway, he looked at her one last time, feeling himself freeze in place again. He said nothing, sensing that she wanted to say something instead.

She tilted her head slightly.

"You owe me a favor," she said.

There was something about the way she said it—something that sent a slow, deliberate shiver down his spine. Not even a shiver. More like a careful march of cold fingertips down his vertebrae.

So, naturally, he did what any grown man with an IQ of 187 would do.

He parted his lips slightly and nodded.

[yokoluvv]

THINKING ABOUT...

the cute lil stalker who you met a few weeks ago, who seemed to take his part and leave after what happened last time, who you thought wouldn't be after your tail anymore.

you didn't think much of it, didn't really care, a one time thing. what you didn't expect was seeing him talking to your boss, with a uniform that was too much like yours. what a pesky bug.

it could be bearable, you thought; he was a feast for the eyes and didn't talk much, just doing his part of the work, occasionally slipping glances at you. over time he became a bit more... bolder, if you could call it that.

he started standing closer to you, sitting closer to you. wearing clothes that were not designed for the work enviroment, dropping an abnormal amount of pens; but you doubted your boss (or frankly anyone) minded it much. you didn't.

he was maddening, and he knew that, but if you cave in and gave him what he wanted, another confrontment, he would win. and you could work with a bit of challenge. so you ignored his thight tops, mini shorts that barely covered anything; ignored his bumpings and pretty big eyes.

and the pretty thing noticed that too. because how could he not when he got cornered everytime he went to the bathroom, when everybody except you were touching and groping him? he didn't want their filthy hands on him, they were ruining his outfits that he wore just for you. he was saving himself for you and these mindless idiots who only thought with their dicks thought he was for them to savour? it made his blood boil.

he went through hell to get this job and you weren't even looking at him! (hell being batting his lashes and standing a bit too close the the boss)

thus, he decided to take the matters into his own hands, because he had eyes and he could see the tent in your jeans. that he caused.

he waited and waited the whole day, asking others around to do his work for him because he's just so weak, and he could save his energy for you insted.

and it was the end of work. finally, you thought. if only your boss didn't make you work over time on a friday. and your very cute colleague too for some reason. this was the perfect oppurtunity for him, he waited the whole day for this! endured the others' touchings for you! surely you'd reward him?

you found it harder and harder to just get your work done and go home. your pants were too thight for comfort and he was sitting there like he didn't know the effect he had on you. and the one sided challenge you had going on was getting less and less appealing. you just wanted to fuck him stupid.

time didn't seem to pass at all whatsoever. and you got pent up real fast. the challenge? oh, who cares, you weren't thinking with your brain right now, anyway.

the next thing you know you have the pretty lil stalker straddling your lap, rubbing against you like a bitch in heat, mewling in your ear. your hands on his hips as he tries to get the most friction he can, finally you're going to reward him for his hard work. he fumbles with his shorts, trying to get them off while his other hand unbuckles your belt.

he's already so wet for you, you don't even need to do anything. and you don't. he can do the work for you, right? he slips on your cock with a high pitched whine, hair sticking to his forehead as he starts to move. up and down, bouncing like a bunny. his moans get cut off everytime he falls back on your dick.

his hands on your chest for support as he does his best to please you, instinctively clenching around you as he throws his head back, a groan leaving his parted lips. he lets out an embarrassingly loud whine when you pull at his hair, his eyes rolling back. praise him, please, tell him he's doing such a good job and watch him cum so fast.

he's so warm and so sweet and you can feel the tension building up in you, your hold on his hips thightening as you thrust into him. he pants and shivers, his legs trembling when he feels the warmth in him, that alone making him cum again.

let's say the next day your co-worker might have to clean up his chair.

guess who got so horny he had to write it<3 this sucks but I was real pent up. inspired by that one person who asked me to do this if I ever made a part two ty for the idea

update: I hope it's okay to tag you sjjdiskdk @waddaloser

[dduane]

I'm halfway through So You Want To Be A Wizard and I have a bit of an odd question. Certain spells require ingredients like pens or string, but what were to happen if the spell components just... didn't exist anymore/would be impossible to acquire now? Like if it required the feather of a Dodo Bird, or leaves from a species of tree that died off a long time ago?

I'm loving the story so far, my brain just latches on to random little details and won't let go haha

No problem! I know how this is. :)

For spells of the kind we're discussing here—which (since they're intended for probationary wizards) are fairly simple ones—the Manual normally suggests the most readily accessible items that interrupt space in the right way to make a given spell work. For beginning wizards, if a given ingredient can't be obtained, the Manual will routinely suggest a slightly different spell that has more accessible ingredients.

Of course there are spells with physical components in which the non-availability of a given item may be construed as a challenge that the universe is offering you, in order to see how serious you are about the spell getting done in the first place. ...The dodo feathers, for example? Those aren't so much of a problem... assuming you're willing to worldgate over to London and break into the Natural History Museum to borrow one of the few they've got. (Naturally this is going to also require an effective invisibility spell, and the necessary resources to defeat the museum security systems. And it'd better just be "borrowing." If the spell's at all destructive of the raw materials it uses, stealing something to make it happen would unquestionably increase local entropy. Maybe it'd just be simpler to look around for a different spell.)

This is one of the reasons why most wizards engaged in active spelling try very hard to increase their skill levels to the point where they're able to do wizardry diagramatically, rather than with concrete objects. Affecting the physical universe with nothing but the Speech and the correct kind of spell diagram to support the "equation" is much harder work, sure... but it really beats having to go looking all over the place for the gimbal from some ancient TV set, or the right piece of string. :)

Hope this helps!

[melone625]

Ratchet x Optimus

My favorite ship without a doubt!

I made this drawing for a contest with the theme of “dance” but I used that as an excuse to draw them together <3

The way they treat each other and care for each other is one of the main reasons why I ship them with so much love, So I tried hard to give them a quality drawing as they deserve. Just when everyone is going to rest to have a little moment just for them under the lights of the base aaaaaaa :"33

Extra: the background didn't really suit me, I tried to make another one but I don't know, decide for me haha!!!

[kitts-mechanix]

Oh my gosh....I might need a tissue for this....this very much sums up the cycle of abuse in a sibling dynamic.

@lexicorp, @ichbinmeltdown and I have been having a huge discussion about the Seeker Trine and the cycle of abuse, but this comic captures it in a very real way.

The drama in Thundercracker's show acts as a form of foreshadowing. Starscream barges in and starts treating his brother like dirt, and judging from Thundercracker's reaction it's obvious that Starscream has been abusive to him. Starscream only bothers Thundercracker because he needs him to help him defeat Megatron, aka something that will benefit HIM. Thunder isn't eager to do it, Starscream starts rambling off fake apologies and pointing out his brother's shortcomings (eg, "I've forgotten how sensitive you can be but I didn't think you'd actually leave over it"). Now that being said, I don't think Star's comment about how it hurt when Thunder left is entirely untrue, because I do like to think he was confessing at that point, having an inkling of regret--but even then that's only to get what he wants. When Thunder brushes him aside, Starscream cracks and admits he's sorry for everything he's done, names what he did and says he won't do it again. But is he truly sorry? Thunder doesn't buy it so Starscream uses his interest of the Earth to get him to do it. But it's obvious Thunder has reached a point where he doesn't want to keep putting up with Starscream's bullying. No matter how much Star pleads and begs, Thunder finally calls him out on his rash actions, like telling him that he's obsessing over usurping Megatron and shouldn't have tried to mess with him. He's had to watch Starscream constantly destroy himself, and his own brothers, out of self-interest. When Starscream realises he didn't get his way, he went back to blaming his brother and destroys the TV--the one thing keeping Thundercracker sane--out of anger. Thunder points out this is the problem with Star. He's done EVERYTHING for his brother but it's never enough, and he's had enough of trying to please him. Enraged, Star attacks him and calls him a traitor because he knows he can't get Thunder to do what he wants.

Meanwhile Skywarp is just standing there watching the whole thing and not intervening, probably out of fear. Star leaves and makes Skywarp go with him, leaving Thundercracker alone.

I honestly feel bad for all three of them. Starscream was HEAVILY abused by Megatron and he internalises that abuse on his own teammates, and even his own brothers (okay, I know the Seekers being brothers is a fanon thing, but I headcanon it). But to be fair, even his brothers--at least in G1--honestly kind of allow Megatron to abuse Star and even assist him in trying to punish or harm him. And this is likely more because Star treated them like dirt and less because they were afraid of Megatron. WIth this vicious cycle, I can see why Star kicked his brothers off of Astrotrain in the middle of space in TFTM. I firmly believe Megatron is at fault for fracturing the Trine's sibling dynamic with his abusive "leadership", but it was Starscream--the most abused of the three--who carried on that cycle.

Thundercracker is tired of the abuse. Starscream won't stop it because he needs to feel powerful and be in control when Megatron isn't choking the life out of him. Skywarp is too afraid to stop him for fear of getting the laser treatment.

I won't delve too deep into my personal backstory here, but one of the reasons this comic hit me so hard is because the dynamic reminds me of myself and my younger sister. I didn't have a great upbringing that I'm slowly realising was more abusive than I thought. My sister had it much easier since I suspect she was the favourite. To put it lightly, I was like Starscream/Skywarp and she was like Thundercracker. I'm not proud of it, especially looking at this and knowing my sister still sees me as this version of Starscream.

I really want to write a fic where they manage to break the cycle of abuse. I know, it's easier said than done and probably wouldn't work in real life....maybe I just want to give these guys a happier ending with their sibling dynamic 💔

It's a canon event.

[Follow up to this post.]

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Quinn wanting to pamper us but he's not really sure what he's doing?

"Am I doing this right?"

Quinn's fingers clumsily prodded at your shoulders, hoping whatever he was doing felt okay. His latest injury of the season had him staying in Vancouver instead of traveling with the team. For several weeks, his mood hadn't been the best, and you had dealt with the worst of it. Now, he wanted to apologize for his behaviour, and treat you in a way where you wouldn't think he was just trying to buy you off.

He had made you dinner, which had been wonderful, even though you had offered to help him. Quinn wasn't having any part of it, and every time you'd try to, he'd insist you just have a seat. He knew what he was doing in the kitchen, but you felt guilty just watching him do everything by himself.

Now, however, he had decided to massage your shoulders as you sat in front of him on the floor, with him on the sofa. Though the sounds you were making made him wonder if he wasn't just causing you more pain. "It seems like I'm hurting you."

"No, no, you've just-- Ow!"

Quinn withdrew his hands immediately, "I'm sorry!"

"You don't have to stop. That's just a tender spot." You laid your head towards your right shoulder, hoping to alleviate some of the sharp tension that Quinn had triggered. "I'm alright."

"Are you sure?" He questioned, slowly returning his warm hands to your skin. "I never want to hurt you."

Breathing deep, you closed your eyes against the pain once more, hoping to hide it from Quinn, so he wouldn't keep thinking he was making everything worse. "Ye--yeah, I know.

"Baby, if you want me to stop, I will. I don't like making you feel this way -- doing more harm than good. How about I just make you an appointment for a massage tomorrow?"

Letting out the held breath you didn't realize you were holding, you felt like you had somehow hurt his feelings. "Quinn, I'm good. I've just got some-- really painful knots in my shoulders. They're going to hurt until I get them dealt with. You haven't done anything wrong."

Leaning down to kiss the inflamed skin, Quinn later let his fingers undo the scrunchie holding your hair in place. As the locks fell about your face, he coaxed you to lay your head back while he decided that a scalp massage would be a better option. Instantly, your eyes rolled closed feeling his digits work deep into your hair. He was slow in his movements; applying the right amount of pressure to take your breath away -- in the best way possible.

"Is this better."

Containing the urge to let a moan answer for you, you swallowed hard before answering, "You-- have no idea. Thank you, baby."

His soft laughter at your words made him feel better. "You're welcome. And thank you, for everything these past few weeks."

Words were beginning to be difficult for you, "Oh, it's-- it's no problem. I know things have been hard for you."

It was insane how good his fingers felt --how good he was with his hands-- and you could have drifted off to sleep had it not felt as good as it did.

"What do I have to do for you to do this more often?" You begged, your eyes still closed in bliss.

"Just ask me, that's all."

[43luv]

Summary: Luke Hughes learns how to love

Word Count: 1.1k Warnings: lots of fluff!! A/n: guys idk how to feel about this but pls enjoy :)

Luke Hughes wasn’t known for being good at expressing his feelings. He was the youngest of three, and growing up saying how you felt got you a fist to the face. It wasn't his brothers fault, they all loved one another dearly but, it was engraved in their brains that feelings were a sign of weakness. 

Their mom, however, always said that expressing your feelings was the way to a woman's heart. Things like “i love you” and untimely kisses on a cheek. 

Quinn was the best at it. Being the eldest and the biggest mama's boy definitely helped. He would say when he disliked something, had no problem correcting things or telling someone off. Everything was always in a calm tone, his posture always light and inviting. He was a gentleman really, opening doors, giving out compliments and praise. Knowing every right from wrong, probably why he was named captain.

Jack was maybe a little too good at it. He loved the attention, so it only made sense he loved giving it as well. He would compliment you, and stand there, waiting patiently for one in return. He gave the greatest hugs, always having a compliment for whoever he was meeting. Jack was good at saying the things on his mind as well. Had no problem with telling someone when they were annoying him, no problem saying I love you.

And Luke… well Luke was still figuring it out. He had no problem with saying when he didn't like something, and had no problem giving out compliments. His problem however, no matter how hard he tried, was the romantic side of it. It sounds bad, but to him love was always such a heavy subject. One reserved for family and very close friends. He was tentative, never knowing when something should be classified as “love” or not. Never knew when to show it, either. 

So yes, dating Luke might be a little hard. A challenge, some may say. But you love a good challenge.

When the two of you first met, he instantly fell in love. Tripped over his own feet and rushed through his words as he asked you out on a date. 

He called Quinn when he got home, his palms sweaty and breathing rushed.

“How do you go on a date?”

A weird question, an even weirder opening line. But that didn't stop the eldest Hughes brother from sitting straight up, his eyebrows furrowed as he wiped the sleep away from his eyes. “Huh?”

“I asked the prettiest girl in Jersey out on a date, and i don't know what to do now!”

His words were rushed, breathless. His one hand gripped the edge of the kitchen counter. 

“Take her to a restaurant?”

So he did. He picked the fanciest restaurant, with the fanciest food and drinks. He picked you up, he was trembling as he handed you flowers at your front door. He loved the dress you were wearing, a dark navy one, it complimented you, he thought. And he wanted to tell you but alarms blared in his mind. 

The date went amazingly well. He was a gentleman but all night you longed for a compliment. But you could tell he found you endearing. His eyes told you that. They followed you throughout the night. Sparkling when you talked and crinkled when you laughed. 

Eventually, he asked you to be his girlfriend. He had no idea how he did it, still doesn’t. It was probably the adrenaline talking, or maybe the way you smiled at him like he hung the moon. Either way, you said yes, and for the first time in a long time, Luke felt like he did something right.

At first, being with Luke meant reading between the lines. He wasn’t the guy who flooded your phone with sweet texts or showered you with constant affection. But he showed he cared in other ways. He always remembered the little things—your coffee order, how you hated the sound of silverware scraping against plates, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were nervous. And he always walked on the outside of the sidewalk, like a silent promise to protect you.

Still, you wanted him to know that words mattered too. So, you started small.

“I love when you do that,” you’d say, squeezing his hand when he opened doors for you.

“I love your laugh,” you told him once, after he cracked a joke that wasn’t even that funny, just because you liked the sound.

And every time you used the word “love,” you saw something shift in him. His shoulders would relax a little. The crease in his brow would fade. And little by little, he started saying it back—in his own way.

It wasn’t grand speeches or endless declarations. It was the soft, quiet moments. The way his thumb brushed circles on your skin when you held hands. The way he mumbled, “Missed you,” against your hair after road trips. The way he leaned in to kiss you like he had all the time in the world.

And eventually, the words came easier.

One night, after a long day, you found him sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone. You plopped down beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Long day?” you asked softly.

He sighed, dropping his phone on the coffee table. “Yeah. Felt off on the ice.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, squeezing him gently. “You’re too hard on yourself, Luke.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, well…I don’t wanna let anyone down.”

Without thinking, you kissed his shoulder. “You won’t. Never will.”

And that was the thing about you. You never asked him to change. You just gave him the space to be himself, rough edges and all. Slowly, that wall he had built around his heart started to crumble.

One night, he blurted it out without warning.

“I love you,” he said, voice soft but sure, like he’d known it for a while but didn’t know how to say it.

You smiled, heart swelling in your chest as you brushed a curl away from his forehead. “I love you too.”

And just like that, the words didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

He still wasn’t perfect at it. He’d stumble over his words sometimes, or fumble through compliments like he wasn’t sure they were good enough. But you never minded. Because love wasn’t about perfection. It was about effort.

And Luke? He was always willing to try for you.

Main Masterlist || Luke Hughes Masterlist

lots of love, Kenzie

[swytdoll]

(19)virgin!choso has the hots for his older neighbor(35):(

perverted. that’s how he felt as he watched you wash your car, in shorts so tiny they were practically underwear and a white tank top that was so soaked it was see through. the way the fabric clung to your breasts made his mouth water. he had been staring for at least 30 minutes and had gotten to see them from all angles. it was torture, sweet torture. he wanted to take you right then and there in the grass and hear his name on your lips over and over.

you were old enough to be his mom. in fact, he had had you as a teacher back when he was in high school and that made him feel guilty for looking at you like this. but he just couldn't stop. he couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about being with an older woman, one that knew what she was doing and knew how to use him. you would make him feel like your toy and he wanted that.

you looked up and caught his eyes. he blushed bright red and quickly turned away. maybe if he had kept looking he would have noticed the smirk on your lips.

you were a teacher in more ways than one. you could teach him how to be a good boy and give you the pleasure you deserved. he wanted to sink into the ground when you began to approach him. you were smiling sweetly, but your eyes said something different.

you leaned against the fence separating your property and his, propping up one of your arms on it. you gave him a soft grin and he wanted to die. you’re so pretty to him. glowing eyes framed with thick wispy lashes, pretty plump lips. he can't look away, mesmerized, he watches the way your lips part and the tip of your tongue darts out to wet them. the sight makes his blood run hot and his shorts grow tighter.

"hello mister kamo," you hummed, "where are your parents?"

"i-i'm sorry i-" had he been caught? were you gonna tell on him?

"what's the matter? are you nervous?" you cooed, "i just wanted to say hi to your mom, see if she needed anything for the barbecue later. is she around?"

"she's- um- out. getting groceries," he replied quietly, not daring to meet your eyes.

"oh? and what about your father?"

"he's...working late," choso said. he was sweating and the bulge in his shorts was now painfully obvious. he wanted to die, to disappear from embarrassment. you smiled and let out a giggle.

"are you okay mister kamo? you seem awfully nervous." you’re batting those lashes and he swears he could melt, he clears his throat. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine, totally fine!" he blurted out, "i'll- uh- tell them you said hi."

"okay," you quipped sweetly and began to walk back to your house, "if you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

he nodded, "okay."

his head was spinning and he couldn't think straight. he didn't want to be alone, didn't want to go inside, didn't want to leave and miss seeing you again. he could still smell the strawberry of your shampoo from where he was. it was intoxicating.

"choso," you called out and he snapped out of his daze.

"yes, miss?"

"can you come help me? i dropped my hose and it's really hard to pick up."

"o-okay."

you lead him around the side of your house and he saw the hose was indeed on the ground, the water running. his hands were shaking, but he bent down and picked it up anyway. the moment he stood, you grabbed his hand and placed it right on your chest. he squeaked and tried to pull away, but you held him tight.

"you can touch me," you hummed, "i don't mind. is that why you were watching me? do you like older women?"

"i- uh- well- you- you're-"

"use your words, choso," you chastised him and moved his hand lower, making him rub his fingers over your nipple, "good boys speak when spoken to. did i ever teach you that?"

"y-yes," he whined and his hips bucked into the air. you gave him a wicked smile and pushed him to the ground. he landed on his back, legs sprawled out. his cock was standing up, pressing against his shorts and there was a dark stain where his tip was.

"such a cute little thing," you giggled and knelt down in front of him. you grabbed his legs and pulled them apart before getting between them. he squirmed and you grabbed his hands, pinning them to the ground.

"please," he whimpered.

"please what? be a good boy and tell me what you want," you cooed, pressing his hands into the ground.

"i- um- please...touch me," he whispered.

"like this?" you hummed and reached down to rub his clothed erection. he bucked his hips into your hand and moaned.

"yes, please, miss," he gasped.

"good boy," you purred and kissed him, he was putty. "so good for me."

your hands moved to his hips and he lifted them so you could pull his shorts down. his cock was already leaking and twitching.

"you poor thing, did you get this hard just from looking at me?"

"y-yes, miss," he moaned, "i couldn't stop thinking about you, how pretty you were and how much i wanted you."

"oh, you're such a good boy, telling me exactly what you want," you cooed and gripped his cock, stroking it slowly, "i should give you a reward, hm?"

"please, please, please," he whined, his hips twitching up.

"okay," you replied and leaned forward. you pressed a soft kiss to his tip, smearing the pre-cum on your lips before wrapping them around him. his back arched and he let out a loud moan. he couldn’t believe this, anyone could see him and you. his parents could walk past the fence and catch you sucking off their son. but that was part of the fun. it was forbidden and he loved that.

the sounds of your gurgled chokes as you slurp his cock are like a siren's song to him, the way you so dutifully suckle him to the base and take his entire length in your mouth without a trace of resistance. your jaw is slack as he slides between your lips, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you forward until your nose is pressed into his belly. he's so big that even though your eyes are rolled back, your vision is obscured by the sheer size of his erection. your throat feels like a fleshy sheath for him, your breath forced out in tiny, rapid huffs through your nostrils, and your tongue is pinned.

and you're not just sucking his cock, either. you're swallowing. and every time your esophagus clenches down around the head of his dick, it sends him hurtling closer and closer towards an orgasm that he's determined to wring out of you first. he can feel you starting to struggle for air, but the way you're still obediently sucking his cock even while your lungs burn from a lack of oxygen.

“god," he rumbles, his voice like the sound of boulders shifting together. his grip on the back of your head tightens, and he grinds against your face, your nose and lips mashed up against his skin.

your stomach growls and churns in a desperate plea for nourishment, but the way he fills your throat is a completely different hunger. you can taste his pre-cum, his magic thick and warm and tingling on your tongue, and you suck and swallow with more enthusiasm. even though you're struggling to breathe, the idea of drinking his cum makes you feel like a starving woman given the key to a buffet.

"j-just like that," he praises you, his words coming out in a hiss as you clench down on him, your throat tightening in a futile attempt to keep his cock from pushing so deep into your airway. he whines when you withdraw, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"you taste so good, choso," you murmured, "have you had many girls do this to you?"

"n-no, miss, never," he groaned, "only you."

"and do you want only me to do this to you? do you want me to be the only one that knows how good you taste and how cute you sound?"

"yes! yes, miss! i want it to be only you, please," he babbled. you smirked and kissed his hip.

"well then, i better take good care of my boy, huh?"

"please, please," he whined, pushing his hips toward you.

"okay, i'll make you feel really good, sweetie."

you took his cock back into your mouth, licking at the tip and stroking the rest. his head was spinning and he could hardly breathe. you felt too good, looked too good, sounded too good. your soft lips wrapped around him, sucking and licking, teasing and pleasing. it was too much and yet not enough. his body was on fire, burning and aching.

his knees buckle as your warm hand palms his balls and your tongue traces the veins of his cock. he lets out a whine and grips your hair. you pull off his dick, letting it fall against his stomach. you press a few soft kisses to his tip, watching as his cock twitches.

"miss," he whimpered, "it hurts, please."

"what does, sweetheart?" you asked.

"please, let me cum, miss," he begged.

"already? did i make you that horny?"

"please, miss," he whined and bucked his hips.

"alright," you hummed, taking him back into your mouth.

"thank you," he breathed.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could. his fingers tightened in your hair and he bucked his hips. your nose pressed against his pelvis and your throat clenched around him.

"i'm close," he moaned, "i can't, fuck, it's so good."

a few more thrusts, and his movements become erratic. you're dizzy from oxygen deprivation, the edges of your vision growing dark, when suddenly his cock twitches inside you, and his hot, sticky cum fills your stomach. there's so much of it that you're actually able to feel yourself swell a little with the volume of his release, and the sensation makes you whimper and whine.

"you did so well," you cooed, crawling up and laying next to him, "was that your first time?"

"yeah. . . s-sorry i finished so quick." he mumbled, cheeks tinted brightly.

"you did so good," you repeated, pressing a kiss to his temple, he felt like he was going to pass out.

“i’ll see you tonight at the barbecue, yeah?”

he nods, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him.

*peeps around corner* dare i say part 2?

[lostinlovingrevery]

Old man Logan with reader who is lonely, has no friends but is still a ray of sunshine with him, always trying to impress him and give him pretty gifts and getting all dolled up for him. She is sad inside though, apart from being his boyfriend, he is her only friend

My Ray Of Sunshine (Why Are You So Sad?)

Old Man Logan X F! Reader

A/N: I hope this is okay! Started angsty, but I wanted it to be happy for both reader and Logan in the end. Loneliness is an awful feeling (smth I'm all too familiar with) If anyone ever needs to talk, my inbox is always open!! I had a little trouble figuring out where to go with this, so I hope this satisfies you!

Plot: You and Logan have been dating for some time, but you still feel the intense loneliness that wraps it's arms around you, him being the only one in your life - and you feel like he's not honest with you.

Warnings: Angsty, slight depression, mention of loneliness, happy endings

Word Count: 2021

"Hi Lo," You cooed as you answered the phone, a smile stretching across your face.

"Hey sunshine," You heard his gruff voice on the other line, giving your heart a flutter. You always loved the sound of his voice, no matter how gruff and cranky he could sound - he never takes it out on you though.

"You still coming over tonight?" You ask as you walk across the room, your fingers tapping along the small box that sat on your desk. A present you decided to get Logan, a nice little silver watch he can wear. There was a moment of silence, "Lo?"

A small sigh,

"Sorry. I can't. I have to work."

Your face fell, but you took a deep breath. "Oh, that's alright!" You say, putting on your best happy-go-lucky voice. You didn't want him to feel bad, just by the tone of his voice you could tell he was having a bad day. "We'll plan for another night baby. You get a request?"

"Yeah, Bachelors party." He says. "Big payout."

"Oooh....Nice paycheck then huh? You can make it up to me later by taking me out somewhere nice then." You tease. You couldn't see the fond smile on his face, but you could picture it.

"Yeah. We'll plan on it. Promise." He says. You chewed on your lip, as you felt that swell of emptiness build up inside you.

Another night alone.

"Sunshine?"

"Huh?" You snapped out of your thoughts. "Sorry, sorry-" You laughed. "Zoned out again. What?"

"I gotta go, got a job. I'll call you later, or in the morning. That alright?"

"Yes, of course." You smiled. "Be safe, okay tough guy?"

You heard a warm chuckle, which made you relax. "Yeah, I will. See you doll."

You heard the phone beep and sighed. Alright.

You and Logan had been dating for a little bit. Meeting in a small little diner that you waitress at. It started as harmless flirting, but then you both managed to find yourself able to talk to each other so easily. Logan listened to you, seemed so openly accepting of you. How could you not be drawn to him?

You thought yourself a little ridiculous for gaining a crush on an older man like Logan, but then his weathered charm got to you - and you just couldn't help it. You'd slip him extra treats on the down-low, not charging him for them. An extra cup of coffee, a slice of apple pie, once you even managed to slip him a stack of pancakes. He'd smile at you and your antics as you slide the plate across the counter and give him a wink- his smile being something tired yet warm that made your knees weak and butterflies shoot through you.

You put more effort into your appearance, especially when you knew he was going to be there. Dolling yourself up - not your usual thing to do but when you got a man like Logan coming around...Well, it's hard not to want to look pretty for him.

It was you that finally convinced him to go on a date with you, and you surprised him by taking him to a gorgeous museum the next city over. You had wondered initially if he scoff at that- him being the gruff and older man he is, but he seemed to really enjoy it. He listened to you ramble on and on about Vincent Van Gogh, one of your favorite painters as you listed everything you knew about him, explaining the misconceptions about him as a painter and a person.

You took the charge of the relationship that formed between you. You planned dates, which seemed to make Logan happy- your infectious happiness- not rubbing off on him but more giving him some much needed relief in what you must believe is a very stressful life for him. He deemed you his sunshine, a pet-name you wore with pride.

You believe it's stressful- or rather assume. He never really told you about his personal life. You know he was a limo driver, you know he lived on the outskirts of town - you never been where he lived. He mentioned something about taking care of his father. He's shared a few stories- always seemingly missing information in them like he was purposely leaving out parts of them.

It made it worse by the fact that he really is the only person in your life right now. You adored Logan and did everything you could to make him happy because he was the only one to give your love to. You spend the time you can together, when he visits your work, or when he comes and stays with you for the night. He's busy though, so he's not really there as often as you wish he was.

Actually, you probably love him. You haven't told him that though. You always feel though that he's hiding something from you. It's disheartening really, he'll listen to you, he's heard your secrets but you never hear his. He refuses to bring you to his place, making some excuse that yours was nicer and maybe it was but you didn't care about that. It created a space between you, something you're not sure if Logan recognizes himself.

You moved to change out of the pretty yellow dress you had on to see Logan, wiping your makeup off and pulling your hair into a messy bun as you prepared to spiral into a night of anxiety, depression, and wine.

You settled on your couch, flipping the tv on, surfing through channel after channel. The night got darker and you got more and more tired. The shadows of your living room, seemingly your only company for tonight, closing in on you as the tv flickered over your curled up form.

Your eyelids grew heavy, as your felt the sinking feeling of your heart, reminding you that you were by yourself again. Inevitably wondering when will Logan leave?

Heavy knocks on your door startled you, as you sat up on the couch and confusion stretched across your face. Worry settled in you, as you had to wonder what shifty characters were knocking on your door at night?

You stood up and crossed the apartment, peeking through the peephole of your door, you're shocked to find Logan standing there. You gasped, stepping back to unlock your door and open it.

"Logan?"

"Hi sunshine." He greeted you, and smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling in the corners as his smile lines became more prominent. He held a bouquet of sunflowers in one hand.

"What are you...What are you doing here?"

"I missed ya." He says gently, a lingering gruff in his voice. "Can I come in?"

You bit your lip, and nodded. Still, your lingering feelings stuck in the back of your head. Stepping back, you forced a smile up at him as he stepped inside, holding the bouquet up.

"I figured you'd like them because...You know. That painter who- Are you okay?" He stopped, squinting at you, as he watched your eyes met with the bouquet, and tears filled your eyes. "Hey, hey sunshine, what's wrong?" He asks softly, bringing his hand up to your chin, tipping it upwards to look up at him. You bit your lip and shook your head.

"Sorry-" You say pulling away from him, wiping your eyes. "I'm just happy to see you..." You lied through your teeth. His eyes, he looked tired.

"Don't know about that sweetheart..." He mutters, examining your expression. "What is it? The flowers? You hate em?"

"No." You let out a small laugh, crossing your arms. He turned to shut the door behind him, locking it before setting the flowers on a nearby table, his hands coming to rest on your arms.

"Well?" He looks down at you, his face serious, but his eyes held concern. "You don't need to pretend with me darling."

You were caught off guard by him, showing up suddenly when you felt your worst. Your instinct screamed at you to push him away, to pretend that it was all okay. You didn't want to bring him down. Your anxiety peeked at the idea that he may be disappointed by this version of yourself, that he would see the lonely person you are, and leave because he wouldn't want to deal with you.

But they way he looked at you, you couldn't help it as the dam broke, and he pulled you tight to his chest, holding you as you cried.

"I'm sorry doll. I didn't mean to hurt you by canceling." He says softly, his hand petting your hair gently.

"No..No, it's not you." You sniffled, stepping away for a moment. "I...I just feel so alone sometimes. I like you a lot Lo, I love us spending time together but when you're not around I'm just by myself and it...It's just terrible."

Logan brows creased, as he brought a hand to cup your cheek. "I didn't know." He says gently. You let out a shaky sigh and looked back up at him.

"You're the only person in my life." You continue. "I don't feel like I don't completely know you though. Not like how you know me. I feel like you're keeping things from me or that you're...Only sticking around temporarily."

"That's not true." He says quickly, and firmly. "I care about you sunshine." His thumb wiped away a tear. "A lot. More than I have a right too. You're....Everything sweetheart. I count myself a damn lucky guy that I met you, that you let me be apart of your life. "

You swallowed and nodded, looking away as you let out a small sigh. You both stood there in silence.

"I..." He started. "I don't know how to stop you from feeling alone but...I get it. You're right. I haven't told you the whole truth."

He grabbed your hand, leading you over to the couch, as you both sat down.

"You ready for this?" He asks.

~~~~~~~~

You stood outside the hot desert sun, as you look around the barren horizon. Logan let out a small cough, as he puffed on the cigar that he was smoking.

"It's quiet." You say.

"Yeah." He nods, his eyes trailing over you as he tried to read your body language.

After an intense conversation last night, you both passed out on your couch. When you woke up in the morning, Logan had you get dressed, and brought you to his...well, where he lives. Can't really call it a home.

That was you.

He felt terrible when you admitted to him everything you struggled with. He adored the way you always seemed to be optimistic, the way you got yourself all dolled up for him, the way you tried to spoil him and every way possible. That's not why he liked you though. He liked your character, he liked the person you are. Not just for what you do for him. You were a fresh breath of air for him. His sunshine.

He wished you see yourself the way he does. You're always encouraging him, to look at himself and see himself as a good man. He didn't know how long he got but he'll spend every second with you to prove you are the most wonderful and loveable person.

You looked at him and smiled. The sunlight gleamed off his new watch that you gifted him. He finished the cigar, flicking it to the ground and stomping it out with the heel of his shoe, before putting an arm around your shoulders.

"You ready to meet the old man?"

"Uh Lo, you're right here." You tease, wrapping your arm around his waist. He chuckled warmly.

"Real cute." He mutters shaking his head, as he led you to the decrepit water tower. He went to the door, and slid it open, a harsh grunt escaping him as it rolled open, he stood to the side and waited as you walked in.

Inside you saw two men. One, sitting in a chair reading a comic book, looking up at you. He had white skin, and yellow eyes. That one must be Caliban.

"Hello dear-" The other man greets. An older gentleman, lying in a bed with a warm smile. You smiled back as he reached his hand out to you, and walked over and took it. "I've heard so much about you from Logan. It's nice to finally meet you. Tell me...Which of Van Goghs paintings is your favorite?"

[seokmn]

FOR3VER ?! ⋆⭒˚.⋆

pairing: vernon x gn!reader wc: 1.2k words warnings: curse words. lua’s note: happy a bit early vernon (and dokyeom) day!

“baby, it’s okay. it’s buzzcut season anyway”

“I can't do this.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can't,” you sighed and placed the scissors on the bathroom sink. “I'm so sorry, Vernon, I didn't mean to do… this to you.”

You looked at your reflection in the mirror, and there you were with red eyes and nose from crying and Vernon with a reassuring and comforting smile and burned hair. “Y/N, just do it. Really.”

“I can’t-“ your tears started to fall down again. “I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry.”

Why are you stupid? Well, you're the one who burned Vernon’s hair. In a very ridiculous way.

You and Vernon were celebrating his birthday with a small cake and some pastries you bought for him. When you were about to light up the candle, a mosquito flew right in front of your face, and as a way to make it fly away, you shook the hand that you were holding the lighter. Stupid mistake, you'd say, because the lighter’s flame touched Vernon's hair, and the damage was done.

“Fuck, Y/N!!” Vernon said in desperation, trying to put out the fire with his hands, but scared of burning himself. You looked at him with pure horror and immediately grabbed the glass of water that was resting on the table and threw the liquid at him, right at the flame. “I'm sorry!”

He looked at you and you looked at him, and you reacted to the situation at the same time, but in a different way. You started to cry like a child when someone steals their candy, and Vernon, on the other hand, started to laugh loudly. However, his laughter died as soon as he took the sight of you crying so hard that if someone walked in and saw you in that state, they’d think a loved one died or would send Vernon to jail immediately, thinking he did the worst to you.

That was the situation that led you to where you were, in the bathroom with scissors and a hair clipper waiting to be used by you at your boyfriend’s hair.

“It wasn't your fault, Y/N. It was an accident, so don't be like this. It's fine”

“It's not fine! You'll look like an egg!” Vernon laughed and shook his head. “I won't look like an egg, and if I do, I'll be the most handsome egg ever.”

He reached out for your hand and squeezed it gently, a way of reminding you that he's not mad at all. You took a deep breath and took the scissors in your hands.

You looked at your reflection once again. “Are you sure?”

“Is there any other way of taking care of this?”

“Fair enough,” you nodded and started to cut the strands of his hair. Your heart clenched a little bit more every time you saw the strand fall to the ground. “I can't believe I'm doing this.”

“This is exciting!”

“No, it's not. It's depressing and ridiculous. Can you imagine if… I don't know," you thought about one of his friend's names. "Seungkwan asks you about your hair? What will you say? ‘Y/N set fire to my hair so I shaved it’? That's ridiculous and stupid.”

“Hey, I bet not every couple has this story to tell. That’s unique! Plus, I'm liking it.”

“Pass me the hair clipper, please,” you mumbled as he took the scissors from your hands and then gave you the hair clipper. “Don't make me bald tho, make me look like a hot guy with a hot buzz cut.”

Vernon smirked, trying to bring some humor to change your mood, but he was failing since you only glanced at him before turning the hair clipper on and running it over his head.

“There you go… It's done,” you said as you put the hair clipper down. You avoided looking at him, embarrassed about having to shave his head.

“Damn, I look hot!” Vernon ran his fingers through his almost nonexistent hair. “Baby quickly, which one do you prefer, me or Humpty Dumpty?”

You snorted with laughter, still not looking at his hair. “I won't choose a fucking egg, Vernon.”

He got up from the stool and cupped your cheeks, making you finally look at him. “Come on, Humpty Dumpty is kind of a smash.”

You chuckled and ran your hand over his head with a small pout. “Your hair… I'm sorry, really,” Vernon laughed and shook his head. “Stop apologizing, babe. I swear it's okay, it's buzz cut season anyways. Plus, I look really good, don't I?”

Vernon looked at himself in the mirror with a proud smile on his face, and you looked at his reflection as well. He truly looked good, you smiled a little and placed your head on his shoulder. “You do look good, really good. That’s a real smash, not fucking Humpty Dumpty.”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead. “Come on, my birthday isn't over yet. Grab your coat.”

You left the bathroom and took your coats. “Let's go to the Han River and do the picnic you wanted to do,” you frowned, he wasn’t supposed to know about your picnic plans, it was a surprise. “How did you know?”

“I saw my sister’s message on your phone when you asked me to put it to charge.”

“Idiot, you could've at least pretend you didn't know!”

“You know I can't pretend that well, baby.”

“Look at that shining star, it's so pretty,” you pointed at the night sky. “Make a wish.”

“Don't you make a wish when you see a shooting star?”

“Yes, but we’ll pretend that that star is a birthday candle, because I'm not getting near a lighter so soon,” Vernon laughed and closed his eyes, making a wish. “Done.”

You looked at him, the moonlight kissing his facial features as he looked back at you. “Hope your wish comes true,” you reached out for his hand, your thumbs caressing his knuckles.

“It will, I just know it,” Vernon stayed in silence for a few seconds, appreciating your beauty as if it was his first time looking at you. If he wasn't already so deeply in love with you, he would have fallen in love even harder for you at that moment. (Un)fortunately, falling deeper for you was impossible. “I’ll love you forever, Y/N. Thank you for everything.”

“Even for the buzz cut?”

“Especially for the buzz cut. I've always wanted a buzz cut, so I loved it.”

“I'm glad my 'little accident’ made you happy,” you got closer and kissed the corner of his lips. Vernon, in reaction, let out a dramatic sigh, as if he was offended by your action. “How rude of you, kissing only the corner of your boyfriend's lips. Kiss me like you mean it!”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes before placing your hand on his cheek and pressing your lips against his.

“I was expecting a little bit more, tho,” he said as soon as you pulled away. "Well, I won't kiss you like you want in public. We’re not vulgar.”

“I wish we were,” Vernon sighed and looked at the night sky as his arms found the back of his head. He glanced at you quickly to take note of your reaction to his little joke. “Stop it!” You laughed in disbelief and hit his chest playfully, which made him laugh as well.

“But seriously now, how about we get back to my place?”

You checked the time on your phone and nodded. “Yeah, your family will already be there for the last surprise,” you knew that would ruin the surprise, but you didn't care at all since Vernon's reaction was priceless. “Poor baby, you thought we would be alone?” you cupped his cheeks and pouted, teasing him.

Vernon let out a deep sigh, he wanted to get frustrated, but he knew he couldn't. “At least I'm loved. Let's go to my last surprise of the day.”

"Maybe you'll have another surprise when they're gone," you teased.

"I liked that. I love my family, but I'm already thinking about when they will leave."

You chuckled, and Vernon wrapped his arm around your waist as he guided you to his car, going back home to enjoy the last moments of his birthday.

[bratbarzal]

you said i could send multiple requests and you wouldn’t block me

could you do roommate (or neighbour) nico with ³⁾ “i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.”

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

“i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.” with neighbour!nico!!!!! bc of course neighbour nico joins your boozy galentines, wears pink fluffy cowboy hats and sings horrific karaoke duets with you. why wouldn't he? not to toot my own horn (again) but beep beep this is a dream that I have had since lunch and I am not giving up on it now.

“I’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything I need to know about how your date went.”

You're locking up your apartment when Nico emerges from the elevator down the hall, shoulders slumped and face downcast as he trudges over to his door.

You'd seen him when you got home from work, earlier - dressed in a dinner jacket, hair all styled, shirt tucked neat - and he had told you he had a date. On Valentines Day.

And yeah, your heart had pretty much plummeted to the very core of the earth, but at the very least, you got to see him looking so good - a vision to store in your memory bank for a rainy day, when you're thinking too hard about how close he is, just across the hall, but so far away, only being your neighbour, and all.

And that was only an hour ago. Just enough time to get ready, yourself. Hair curled all nice, makeup done - the sexiest outfit you could possibly throw together, because it's girls night, and you deserve to feel your best.

A good date doesn't last an hour. Doesn't end up with a guy slumping home, hair all mussed from running his hands through it, jacket slung over his arm and his heart crushed into pieces.

"Got stood up," he huffs, reaching into his pocket for his keys, "Said she didn't realise I was a hockey player, and didn't think I had the brain cells to hold a serious, thoughtful conversation for a few hours."

"Ouch," you frown, feeling anger more than pity - because, wow, what a bitch!

"You look nice, though," he throws out the compliment almost as an aside, but you can tell by the way his eyes linger that he means it - fixated on the spot where your skirt ends and meets bare thigh. You're probably gonna freeze, but you're going to get some great pictures for your Hinge profile, so does it really matter? "Didn't realise you had plans."

"Going out with the girls," you tell him, "Galentines, 'cause we're all single this year."

He nods, his gaze trailing back up your body until your eyes meet, torturously slow, only enhanced by the darkened colour of his irises. "Have a good night."

"You should come," you tell him without thinking better of it - hypnotised by the low, sexy tone of his voice. It goes straight through you - almost takes control of you like a puppet on a string.

"I'm not a gal," he frowns, although he makes no move to go into his apartment.

"You're single, though," you shrug, "I don't think they'll be too fussy on the criteria once we get a few drinks in."

"Are you sure your friends won't mind?" he asks, eyebrow wiggling and head tilting in the adorable way it so often does.

You press your lips together as if you're rethinking it, casting your eyes slowly down his figure - broad shoulders, big arms practically bulging through his shirt, slacks clinging to his thick thighs for dear life. Your friends will have the time of their lives with this.

"Considering a night out only won the vote for what to do by fine margins, I think they'll be okay with it." You smile, knowingly, nodding toward the elevator, "C'mon, we don't want to be late."

"I don't get what that means, what came second?"

"Magic Mike." You smirk as you walk backwards, reaching to press the button and laughing when his jaw drops. "You take your shirt off later and we'll be golden."

The poor guy has no idea what he's in for.

--

Your girlfriends don't mind when you and Nico meet them at the bar, not once you've introduced him - his name not ringing a bell until you mention he's from the apartment next door, and you see the flash of recognition wash through them almost like cascading dominoes, knocking each other over one by one.

They don't know him as Nico, he's much more fondly referred to in your group chat as sexy neighbour, after all.

You've only been telling them about him for the past 18 months you've lived across the hall - regaling them with stories of bulging muscles carrying grocery bags for you, compression shirts sticking to him when he comes back from the gym, and the one time the fire alarm went off in summer, and he hadn't thought to put a shirt on when you met out the back of the building.

Yeah, sexy neighbour is pretty much a celebrity in your friend group.

They welcome him with open arms, and the night evolves, as they so often do in your friend group, in highly chaotic fashion.

It starts with a round of shots, because of course it does. The bar is rowdy, the music loud, and those tiny little glasses of you-don't-even-want-to-know-what loosen lips all around. Nico picks up on the dynamic of your group pretty quickly, shifting the shyness he had walked into the establishment with and charming them all with that same dimpled smile he got you hooked on the day you met.

Shots turn into drinking games - chugging cocktails, taking on dares, spilling secrets, and you learn so much about Nico that you would never have known otherwise, so much that you would never have had the guts to ask.

Drinking turns to dancing, which starts in a crowd on the floor, bodies all smushed together, and ends up on tables, Nico by your side the whole time, hooking an arm around your waist so that you don't fall.

You end up bar-hopping to an extent, the second place you go being a little quieter, and you're all way too drunk to stay, so you end up at the karaoke joint further down the street.

Your friends all pick the girls night classics, Man I Feel Like A Woman, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun and there's even a full dance intermission for three of your friends to perform Single Ladies.

You all end up adorning fluffy pink cowgirl hats from god knows where, fluffy feather boas slung from your shoulders, and Nico is suddenly grabbing your hand, dragging you on stage, and handing you a mic before you're fully aware what's going on.

But by then you're too drunk to care, belting What Makes You Beautiful at the top of your lungs with him, still conscious enough to blush when he directs the lyrics towards you - as out of key and awful as they may sound.

And you don't know what happens between that and ending up at the club, bass thumping in your ears, blood pumping, skin sweating, and your back is pressed against his chest. You can still see flashes of feathers in your peripheral, your friends close by, but you can't really focus on anything else.

Anything other than the heat of Mr Sexy Neighbour, himself, flush against you, one of his hands holding yours to keep you steady, the other in the dip of your waist, and his breath warm on your bare neck. You lean into him more than you probably should - more than the sober you of tomorrow will be comfortable with, when you're bumping into him again and unable to look into those pretty eyes - and he leans in right back, nose at the junction where your jaw and ear meets, lips flush against your skin, where you hear him mutter, "I should get you home."

You nod, because what are you supposed to do, speak? With him looking at you like that?

Fat chance of that happening.

And he takes your hand in a firm, clammy grip, doing the rounds between those friends that still remain - the ones he hasn't had a chance to personally see off into a cab - telling them to text him if they need help getting home, and to text you when they eventually make it there.

He guides you practically the whole way home - helps bundle you into the back of a cab, buckling you in for safety and sitting in the middle, where you can lean on him with a heavy head, and your hand in his the whole way.

He throws an arm around you to help you stumble your way through the lobby of your apartment building, holding you up in the elevator and pressing the button for your shared floor. And then he props you up beside your front door, taking your keys from your purse and unlocking the door for you as you watch him with a tired but focused gaze.

God, you want him.

Is the world really so cruel that he would never want you back?

When he finally tries the right key and pushes the door open, he looks over at you, a heated gaze assessing if you're fit enough to send in on your own, and you imagine it's the way you blink slowly at him that tells him you're not.

You were just admiring him, really - your buzz wearing off, and the stumbles added for dramatic effect so that he wouldn't stop touching you - but he doesn't need to know that.

He makes a come here motion with grabby hands, and you practically launch yourself back into his arms, him accepting you with an amused smile as he walks you into your apartment, throwing your purse onto your counter and leaving your keys on the side.

You tug a little to steer him down the hall - in the direction of your bedroom, because if he's gonna play white knight, he may as well go the whole way.

"I had fun tonight," you tell him once he's dropped you off onto the safety of your bed, the bouncing motion only making you slightly dizzy again as you watch him stand before you, hands on his hips. "I don't want to say I'm glad you got stood up, but-,"

"I had fun, too." He tells you, dark eyes landing straight on yours as he slowly lowers, dropping to his knees in front of you and reaching for your leg. He starts unzipping your boots for you, and you watch him with what you can only assume are hearts in your eyes, a slow, dreamy sigh wracking through you.

"Wish I got to see you with your shirt off."

He laughs, in a way that makes his eyes crinkle in the corners and his shoulders shake - genuine amusement flooding through him as he looks back up at you, the angle straight up sinful and sobering.

He holds your other leg behind the knee, large hand warm against your bare skin, and slides your other boot teasingly slow - your gazes locked for the whole manoeuvre - his hand following down your leg until he discards both boots to the side.

He stays down there, kneeling in front of you, staring up at you with the prettiest eyes you've ever seen - a flush to his cheeks and a million thoughts racing through his brain.

You lean forward before you can think, and he meets you half-way in a kiss that's slow - sensual and pressured, firm and assuring - the taste of tequila on his tongue as it swipes against yours, which no doubt tastes the same.

He's the first to pull back, but it isn't all the way - just until your lips smack apart, his nose still pressed to yours as he avoids your chasing with a big grin.

"You're drunk."

"Don't care, wanna kiss you." You just about manage to catch him before he pulls back again.

"Not like this."

And then the touch of him is gone, the bump of his nose and the press of his forehead to yours disappearing in a way that makes you pout.

The way he kisses you again is quick - too quick to react, really - before he retreats again.

"You know where to knock when you're sober."

You let out a groan as you watch him leave, unashamedly watching his ass as he goes, eyes still lingering when he stops at your door and catches you with a knowing smirk.

"Happy Valentines Day, sexy neighbour."

[theotherchaospixel]

Her voice boomed, echoed, reverberated across time.

Truth be told, it was really boring. Infinity is just one of those things humans don't understand right. Before I did anything, there was nothing. Nothing, nothing, & more nothing. An infinite nothing. A lot of it. I'm sure you've written before.

Yeah? So what if I have? I could feel Her invisible hand pointing my head down, toward the rock at my feet. A pebble, really, and that was an overstatement.

I'm sure you're aware of the pit in your stomach that grows as you stare at an empty page. Imagine that feeling, multiplied by 6.

I stifled a laugh. Why 6? I could feel Her roll their eyes, if She had eyes, if there were eyes to speak of anywhere, and after a moment, the rock looked at me. With the eyes it didn't have.

It took 6 days before I even started thinking about doing anything, obviously! On the 7th, just before I resolved to spend the next week making life, time, space, the void, stars, nebulae, galaxies, & of course, Saturn, I looked at my clock & panicked, realizing how close to the date I was.

I couldn't quite make sense of what She was telling me. Days? Clock? Date? I thought time didn't exist before that week.

It didn't.

That was where Her thought ended. Silence fell across the plane, across the gaping canyon before me, after me, around me. Minutes passed, centuries passed, empires fell to dust; the rock at my feet wore away into nothing then reconstituted itself. It had been about 5 seconds.

Confusing, I know. That's how the art of creation tends to be. It gets hard to know where you end & the art begins.

None of this really answered my question. What was the nothing like? I could feel the inferno in Her heart, the tsunamis in Her eyes, the earthquakes in Her feet, the tornados in Her hands, as she fidgeted. I'm getting on Her nerves. Not great. I know She's my friend, but making a friend mad was always the last thing I wanted.

The first 6 days were boring, the 7th was stressful, what you want from me, Larry?!?

What was it like though?!? Were you hungry? Did you do it because you wanted to, or because you had to? Her voice echoed again. It was my voice. The rock nudged my feet a bit.

Why do you do anything? Because you have to, or because you want to, or because you need to?

The rock looked up at me again. It wasn't mine before, but somehow, it was now. It was always Hers, but there was something else there now, something ineffable. A love, almost. She sighed. The clouds parted & danced.

On the first day, before time began, there was nothing. It was dark. Second day, same as the first. You get the idea. A whole lot of nothing, but not like when you look up into the night sky and see the spaces between stars nothing; more like when you go to sleep and dream sweet nothings, that kind of nothing. It was like that all seven days, really.

I didn't understand. Things happened in dreams, after all; they were far from nothing. And reading my mind like a book, She continued.

You know how, when you stare at a blank page for long enough, you can see small designs, patterns in the pulp that made it? How if you stare at the floor for long enough, you can see pictures, stories that never happened? How when you look up at the clouds, you see things within them, even though you know that they're just random formations of dust & water vapor? Imagine the page, the patterns, the clouds required in order to see everything that ever was, ever is, & ever will be. Imagine the detail & size of the floor required in order to see all that ever might be. Now, take a step back. It's a blank canvas again. Focus on any part, and you could see everything. People come & go. Empires rise & fall. Seasons change. Time goes on. Step back again, and it's still a blank canvas. Infinite possibility, if you can only bring yourself to paint. Once I had the canvas, it took me several days just gather up the gall to do anything with it, and a whole other day to figure out what. An infinity of possibility, a true, endless ocean of choices.

And this is what you came up with?

Yeah. Pretty cool, right?

I wasn't impressed. And as if She knew it, Her deft, invisible hand pushed my head down to the rock once more.

Look at this pebble. Not impressive, right? Hardly bigger than an eraser. But it's been around the world three separate times. And inside it once. I mean, if you count all of it as one thing, and I know you do. A bit of sand off the coast of what you know now as California, 40 billion years ago, drifted off to sea. Decades later, it washed up on the shore of what is currently Japan. It sat there for a while, as more bits of sand slowly built on top of it. Just a couple million years. Then slowly, over several million more years, the winds carried it across the continent, inch by inch, molecule by molecule. It ended up inside a volcano for a few millennia. And now it's here. Really, it's basically a whole different rock than it started, but it never changed in big swathes. So, that's neat. Billions of years, all to get here, to be in the same room as you & me.

But what was Her point?

My point is that I really can't explain to you what it was like before I made everything. I could swarm you with half a trillion analogies & metaphors & anecdotes & stories, but I'll never be able to explain it to you in full. But if you've written - & I know you have, Larry, you scoundrel, writing things like that - but if you've written, I think you get it. If you've painted, or knit, or drawn, or coded, or sewn, or sung, or played or danced or thrashed or cooked, you get it. Before there is anything, there is love & a dream, and you'd be amazed how far that can take you.

.

.

.

.

.

So it was kinda boring?

Yeah it was kinda boring.

"Hey god?" "Yes, Larry?" "You existed before the universe, right? And supposedly always existed?" "Yes, that's true." "What was infinity like, before you made the universe?" "Ah. Not one human has asked me that before. Well, I guess it's time I tell someone about before the first 7 days."

[tonixe]

౨ৎ megumi's mom

A/N: cross-posted from my smut book on wattpadd/a03. Hahaha, two for two for posting; this is a streak. This is just some indulgence and lowkey inspired by something I read on a03, <3.

WARNING: p in the v, cunnilingus, oral sex (female receiving), no condom we fuck raw, fondling, fingering, dinner room sex, we freakkahh. not proofread lol

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru x milf!reader

WORD COUNTER: 2768

Gojo Satoru had never been the type to get too involved in his students' personal lives. He was a teacher, a mentor, and sometimes, a nuisance to them—but with Megumi, things had always been different. He had been through a lot of things, he was tough, independent, and smart, so it wasn't odd for Satoru to help him, guide him—not as a student but he really did care about Megumi.

-And that is how he ended up in your living room,

You had invited him over for dinner as a thank you for looking out for your son, Megumi, and honestly, Gojo wasn't going to turn down a free meal and you...

You were Megumi's mom. You were effortlessly beautiful—the kind of woman who didn't have to try. The way you talked to him with warmth in your voice, not to mention the large assets you had, the way your apron curved your bosom—it made it better that you were divorcee, meaning you were single and ready to date, maybe...

He was so down bad.

"So..gojo" you said, placing a plate in front of him as you took a seat across from him, "You've been really looking out for Megumi all these years, and I really appreciate it a lot" You smiled, clasping your hands,

Gojo leaned back in his chair, flashing you one of his infamous easy-going grins on his face, he couldn't lie the way you said his name made his heart skip a beat, "Ah—don't mention it. The kid is practically family at this point" Gojo glanced at Megumim who gave him a deadpan stare before continuing his meal.

"I just hope he's not giving you a hard time," you said, you glanced at Megumi whose attention was focused on his plate.

"Oh, he's a little menace" Gojo teased, watching as Megumi scowled, "—But I don't mind, he's got potential"

You won't lie, the tenderness of his voice as he spoke made your chest tighten—he wasn't being just nice, but—he genuinely meant it.

The dinner continued, it was just some casual conversation between you and him, and Megumi just finished his dinner, then excused himself, muttering something about homework.

"You know..for someone who is strong, you're pretty soft with him" you mused, taking a sip of your wine in your glass, Gojo chuckled, resting his chin in his palm as he looked at you, "What can I say? He's got a great mom" 

God..

You shouldn't have been looking at him like that—you cleared your throat at the obvious flirtatious comment,

Gojo was sitting across from you, a relaxed, cocky smirk playing on his lips. His silver-white hair was slightly tousled like he hadn't tried to fix it before showing up. His blindfold was off, with some damn eyes—blue eyes, fixed on you. You couldn't help but look away, as you focused on the wine glass in your hand, 

maybe you had too much to drink—you were always a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.

It had been years since you really dated after Toji...walked out of your life—leaving you with Megumi, a broken home, and wound that just never healed right. The divorce had been messy, it was just filled with treatment and exhaustion—you tried telling yourself you were better off without him, that just managed to survive the worst and you would be the best mom to Megumi. Love was just nothing, only a fleeting illusion for the eyes, and the heart. But there were some nights, that you were in your bed, staring at the empty side of where he used to sleep,

now your eyes were on your glass, gojo was different, yea? He is different than Toji, he is playful, infuriating, and ridiculous—he talks too much, teases you, and—really cares about Megumi more than his own father did, you bit your lip

you started seeing him differently, you blinked, oh god—you were staring at him he whole time...you felt cheeks heating up 

"Hey," Gojo's voice cut through your thoughts, light and amused. "You zoned out on me? You looked real deep in though just now."

You parted your lips, "I was just... thinking about how much Megumi has changed" you voice softer than you intended, you chose your words carefully, "You've been really good to him" 

Gojo tilted his head, watching you with those blue eyes, "Well—I take my job as  his annoyingly cool teacher very seriously"

You huffed quietly, shaking your head, "I mean it, Gojo...you didn't have to go out of your way for him, but you did" At that moment you felt something inside of you crack, you felt your throat tightening—the weight of everything in your life, the years of doing this alone, of carrying the burden of raising a child alone, while feeling you had no one to lean on—you inhale sharply,

Your fingers trembling with your glass, you felt warm tears slipping down your cheeks, you turned your face away quickly, pressing the heels of your palm against your eyes, embarrassed, "God—I'm sorry" you choked out, a watery laugh escaping your lips,

 "I don't even know...why i-"

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor, then Gojo was right by your side, crouching beside you, closer to you.

 He didn't speak right away, no jokes just stared at you, 

"You don't have to do this alone, y'know" his voice was quieter, and you felt his hand brushing your cheek, you let out a shaky breath, trying to regain control of your breathing, the warmth of his voice—the quiet sincerity of his words just unraveled you.

"I'm sorry, I have just been doing this alone, for so long" you whispered, your fingers curled against your lap, you didn't why you were saying this to him, as you tried to wipe your tears away, breathing out. 

Gojo just nodded, sighing out, rubbing the back of his neck before he spoke again, softer this time, "Yeah...I figured.."

You let out a weak, watery laugh, "Of course you did" 

Gojo smiled—small, but real. He didn't try to tell you that everything as fine, or that you were strong—or that you didn't need to cry. You wiped your eyes, sniffling, "Gosh, I'm sorry I probably look like a mess"

Gojo tilted his head, "Nah..just a little damp, kinda cute actually"

You scoffed at these playful words, rolling your eyes, your lips twitched upwards, "God, you really can't help yourself, can you, gojo" you smiled,

"Nope" he grinned, "But hey if it makes you smile, I'll take the risk"

 You felt the air shifting between you, as Gojo still crouched beside you, watching you with a certain look, you weren't sure of—something softer, unreadable. His usually cocky smirk was replaced by an expression that made you catch your breath.

Your heart pounded as you forced yourself to look away, but you couldn't—"Hey," he murmured, his voice was low, edged with something different.

You barely had the time to process before you felt his fingers brush against your chin, lightly, barely there—but enough to send a shiver down your spine. He tilted your face toward him, waiting, giving you the space to pull away, but you didn't,

then he kissed you, it was gentle, and his lips were warm, and soft, as it was pressed against yours. A quiet sigh escaping your lips,

You felt his hand moving, sliding along your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek, wiping away the last remnants of your tears, as he deepened the kiss, pulling you in, his touch was firm but careful. Gojo couldn't lie like he wasn't waiting to do this to you.

 Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him onto him as you felt the world blurring around you both. It has been so long since you did this—someone that touched like this..since someone genuinely wanted you like this—the worst part about it,

it felt good, it was too good, you wanted it more.

When he finally pulled back from you, his breath was slightly uneven, 

"I want..more" you mumbled, your voice dazed, gripping his shirt. You heard a chuckle erupting from him as he looked at you, it made your whole body shiver. You couldn't lie that you were aroused from just the kiss alone, 

you knew something—dangerous was going to happen if you kept on kissing him, the way his hands were crawling on your body, 

but you didn't care...

𝜗𝜚

 You practically made out with your son's teacher again, you were sitting on top of the table as you kissed him more, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist and hips as you wrapped your legs around him.

"God—you're so beautiful" he breathed into your send, which made you even wetter, you moaned softly as he kissed you again. Gojo's hands slipped under your blouse, cupping your breast and making you grasp. You arched against his touch, as a low chuckle erupted from his throat, his fingers, 

"No bra, huh?" he teased, as he roughly rubbed your nipples with his fingers, making you jolt up.  

"You have really pretty moans, you know" he whispered in your ears, before leaving little kisses along your neck, his eyes drinking the sight of your aroused state. You wrapped your arms around him, wanting to pull him even closer than he was before, 

"Gojo—" you moaned, 

"Satoru" he stopped, turning his head at your dazed expression, 

"Call me that, love" 

Before you can process, you were lying on the table, with him above you. His slender, fingers danced across the clothed cunt,  before ripping it off, "Satoru—" You arched your back at the feeling of his fingers entering you, your hands immediately on his forearm, at the sudden intrusion.

"Your s' wet for me" he mused, his voice was husky, making you even more nervous, but you just nodded. You were so overwhelmed—you hadn't had sex in a while, maybe that was why your body was so responsive to his touch, so sensitive. His fingers thrust into you slowly, feeling his thumb pressing on your clit, making you moan in pleasure, 

His fingers dug deeper into your tight folds, picking up the pace. You were gripping the tablecloth on the table, arching your back in pure pleasure. You were gasping for air, moaning, overwhelmed by the sensation that was coursing in your body,

"S-satoru!" you moaned, he wasn't going to stop, feeling his fingers touching your g-spot. Making you jolt, clenching down on his fingers. You were so close to cumming on his fingers, your mind was hazy—what were you doing.

How long were you even able to reach your orgasm, or have sex after Toji, you didn't know but you craved it, and you were getting it with Gojo. 

Suddenly, you felt the intrusion leaving you, as he pulled his fingers out of you. You felt a twinge of disappointment, you looked up at him, confused. 

"Don't worry—I just wanna taste you" he whispered in your ears, making you shiver. As you watched him moving in between your legs, your eyes widened at what he was doing, you shiver at the feeling of his tongue pressing on your cunt, it was a wave crashing over you. As he licked your slit slowly, teasing you. His tongue pressed against your clit, circling around it.

You were embarrassed—I mean you craved this attention, not knowing how much you need it—fuck, you don't remember Toji ever doing this to you, mostly him fucking you still he was cummed into you, leaving you alone. But when Gojo finally pushed his tongue into you, you moaned at the sensation, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You help but to squirm beneath him, his soft hands on your thighs, holding your thighs up. You arched your back—how many times was he hitting your sensitive spots? Wrapping your legs around his head, urging him to go deeper into you, 

"Haaa~" you moaned, rolling your eyes back,

His tongue flicked against your sensitive spot, as you shuddered in delight, whimpering against his touch. You were losing yourself in the sensation, your hair sprawled out on the dining room table, while your own son's teacher was eating you out.

"Satoru..m' so close" you whimpered,

He didn't respond but kept on flicking his tongue against your spots. The coil in your stomach was unraveling as he pushed his tongue, savoring your taste. You cried out, your body shuddering with pleasure as you came on his tongue, your toes curling as you moaned out. His tongue still lapping every drop of your cum on his tongue, making you overstimulate.

Your gaze was on the ceiling as you tried to collect yourself, your cunt throbbing after the crash of pleasure on your body, hearing the shifting between your legs, looking at Gojo standing between your legs, your juices still staining his face,

"Taste good as the meal" Gojo smiled, making you even more embarrassed, before you felt his grip pulling you closer to him. The feeling of his hardened cloth cock on your cunt, made you shudder,

 "You ready for Ms. L/N" Your eyes widened as he gestured to his hardness, making you blush.  You turned your head, nodding. 

You felt his hands underneath your chin, "You need to use your words like a big girl" he teased, your eyes looking into his crystal blue ones, 

"I..i—want your cock..please" you mumbled, looking away after you said it.

"Good" you watched as he smirked— you didn't know when he even took his pants off, but his cock was huge, your eyes widening at the sight of it. You felt your cunt throbbing at only the sight of it, as you bit your lip, as he positioned himself at your entrance. You immediately put your arms around his neck readying yourself for his dick.

You looked up, your lips parting, "You ready for me big girl..." 

You nodded, biting your lips, feeling his cock sinking into your cunt, the burning sensation making you groan out, his hands on around your waist—rubbing your waist as you adjusted to his abnormally large size, before his hips started pumping into you. 

His hips roll back to you, feeling your cunt being stretched out—he was just so big, you felt stuffed with him fucking into you, your head throwing up in ecstasy, moaning his name. 

the sound of sex echoing through the dining room, 

Your body was trembling, with his thick cock thrusting into you, over and over. Your breathing gets frantic, the simple pleasure making your head spin. Your hand was holding onto for dear life, 

"Oh god," you cried out, his hands gripping your hips, feeling his finger digging into your soft, delicate flesh as he pounded into you. The table creaks beneath them as he fucks you, 

'Fuck' he grunts into your ear, you just moaned in response losing yourself in the sensation coursing your body. Every nerve in your body was on fire, electrified, as his hips smacked into you. 

You felt that familiar sensation in your stomach coming, as his cock hit your cervix, hitting you just right, making your toes curls. His rhythm was getting erratic, his thrusts growing faster and frantic, sending you over the edge.

He was close, you were close,

"Cum in me,—please.." you moaned out, you didn't care what you were saying at this point, you just wanted him. You felt a wave of pleasure waving onto you—so familiar, as he stretched your walls out, hitting the right spots with repetition. A strangled moan escaped your lips as you felt waves of pleasure crashing down on you again, 

Goj, gripping down onto your hips as you clenched around him, your eyes rolling back in ecstasy, as you moaned out. Your walls clamping down his throbbing cock, milking him for all he got.

"S-shit" Gojo groaned, his hips jerking against you, you were dazed, sensitive. His fingers find themselves on your clit, harshly rubbing it, making you jolt up.

Heard his sharp intake of breath, as you felt him emptying himself into you, the warmness of his hot cum filling you up to the brim. The warmth was comforting, as you heaved in and out, still in a trance, your legs trembling around him.

You were there, his breathing echoing in your ears, after everything—your body on fire, your head spinning from pleasure,—what the hell did you do..

Your breathing hitched, realizing what you did, stealing a glance from Gojo. His chest rising, his white hair tousled, lips slightly swollen from you, feeling yourself still clenching down on him,

"Fuck.. you're still wanting more, hm?" you watched as Gojo teased you—fuck you couldn't lie, his post-sex look made you wet—you just had sex with Gojo Satoru, your son's teacher...just inviting him over for dinner to thank him, but you were being stabbed with his cock on your dining table,

but you would do it again, wouldn't you...

[squishygirl46]

Hi everyone, this is a story about my deepest fantasies and dreams. It will be written about me Let me know if you like it. Part one: the beginning.

God, I don't know where I am, some man left a camera in the room and said I had to speak my mind on it or I would be killed. The last thing I remember is leaving the house to go to the store. Now I'm here and I don't know what's going on, I'm so scared….. There's only one dim lamp in this room, a big bed, a toilet, a speaker on the wall and a door. I'm probably going to be killed or raped, I don't know, I'm so scared. Suddenly a masked man came into the room, carrying a scale and a camera.

- Hi said: Get on the scale and take off your clothes. I obediently did everything he ordered. Completely naked I stood on the scale which said 45 kilograms(99 pounds). -You're skinny, now stand against the wall and turn sideways. I went to the wall and turned around, then he told me to stand in front of him and he was taking pictures. What a shame… But I can't help it, I'm so scared. After this strange photo shoot and weighing, the man left. I don't know how much time had passed, but I was very hungry. Luckily the man came back soon and brought a huge tray of food on a gurney. Fried chicken, potatoes, meat pies, pancakes, brownies and cake. There were also several bottles of soda and some pills.

-Whoa, why so much food, I can't eat that much. -No one's asking you. He told me to take two pills and a soda. After I drank them he left and closed the door behind him. I started eating and as usual I got full very quickly, literally after a couple wings my little tummy was full and I laid down to rest and fell asleep, I don't know how long I slept but after I woke up the food was still there and I was very very very hungry…. I started eating again. A few wings, then a brownie, washed it all down with soda, then wings again, then potatoes and then soda again… I could feel my stomach filling up, but the hunger didn't go away, and only after 30 minutes of eating and stopped for breath…. -Oh, God, what was that just now? -Ufff. I mumbled. I looked at the tray, it was covered in leftovers. I put my head down and saw that my stomach was protruding very much, as if I had been inflated like a car tire…. And it was so hard. I was very thin and this protuberance really stood out. I laid back on the bed and dozed off….. When I woke up, the tray was gone, but on the wall were my pictures and a graph with my weight written on it. God, what does that mean, am I being fattened up? I've always worked hard on my figure, I don't want to be fat, I need to exercise to burn off the calories from that gluttony. I got out of bed and started doing exercises, 50 squats, 10 push-ups and 50 abs, then I rested and did them again.

-Fuuuuh, now we can have a little snack, as long as we don't eat too much. Right after these words, this man came in again with a tray, this time there were mountains of fast food, 5 big burgers, a bucket of fries, wings, nuggets, and 2 bottles of coke. -Oh my god, I'm not allowed to eat that, I've always avoided fast food in my life-. But the man silently handed me two pills. -No, I won't take them, they make me unable to stop eating! In response to these words, he just took them and put them in my mouth, then clamped my nose and poured cola into my mouth, I had to swallow them…. -Good appetite- he said and left. I decided that a little fast food wouldn't hurt my figure, especially if I kept doing exercises, or even more exercises, yes, it wouldn't hurt. I took the smallest burger I could find and took a bite. -God, this is so good,” I said with my mouth full. And a wave of warmth spread through my body. -Yeah, one burger wouldn't hurt me. -Yeah. But I couldn't stop at one, as soon as I finished it I took a Coke to drink, I thought I'd just drink a little bit, but I started gulping it down greedily, like I hadn't had a drink in a year. I only stopped when I had half a bottle. Right after that, I went on a food binge. A burger, another one, fries, nuggets, all dipped in sauce and swallowed before I could chew. After 30 minutes of such piggishness, I felt nauseous and almost threw up. I decided to lie down and rest.

-I ate a ton of food again, my God, what am I turning into, but ok, I'll exercise some more and everything will be fine. I put my hand on my warm, bloated tummy and fell asleep. When I woke up I thought it would be a good idea to exercise. Like last time I got up and started squatting, but I stopped at 30 reps and sat on the bed…. The leftovers were beckoning me… -Okay, I've done enough, I can have a snack. I finished everything on the tray and went back to sleep… It went on like that for about two weeks

[hazel-tanthamore22]

Jealous

Sophia lafortaza x katseye!6thmember!freader

Sypnosis: You had gotten a new hair style, now to sophia, it felt like the world was against her and everyone wanted you

Warning: a lot of jealousy, sophia is possessive as hell, swearing, Anything else I might miss

You had gone out a few hours ago, not telling anyone where or to do what. It caused you to receive some rather questioning looks but no one really liked into it, soon going back to doing their own things as you exited the kats dorm, telling them you'll be back by nightfall.

You got back relatively early, earlier than even you expected. You twist the keys and step in the house, silence engulfing the living room before you even close the door. All six other members staring, reactions kind of hard ro make out, except for Manon and Dani who's Jaws are basically on the floor.

You'd come back home with a platinum blonde wolf cut. You chuckled a bit nervously as you close the door and walk further into the house.

"OH MY GOOOD you look soo good" Dani practically squells as she rises from her spot on the couch and runs to you, fingers threading through your hair as she inspects it. Everyone but Sophia soon follows, bombarding you with questions and compliments.

Your eyes drift and meet Sophia's despite everyone else's attention being on you. Her face is neutral but there's a flicker of something else in her eyes, something you can't quite pinpoint.

The girls hover around you like, as Sophia would describe it, moths attracted to light. They stay close the rest of the day, touching you hair in every living moment the get the chance. Manon even took some pictures and posted them on weverse and Instagram

The fans, as always, were going feral. This is normal for all of them, but for some reason, Sophia didn't like it one bit. You got new hair so what? Sure you look very good right, very, very good but didn't give everyone the right to fawn over you like that.

And the next few days proved to be even worse. You gained more traction and that just meant more thirsty comments and fans shipping you with anything that breathes.

Sophia hasn't spoken about it, and hod forbid she does. She's always praised herself for not being the jealous one, so if she expresses her feelings for this shel never hear the end of it.

Anytime one of the members commented on your hair, she felt like telling them to get their hands off you. Whenever a stylist spent too long "fixing" you hair she wanted to curse them out, but she kept herself and her temper in check.

Buy today it was different. You guys had just finished a music bank performance and were with Jaehyun and Eunchae who were mcing.

You and Eunchae were close due to you being onlyva year older than her. "So n/n, you have new hair now, it looks nice" She says with her cheeky smile. "Thanks eunchae-yah" replying with a smile that mirrored hers was probably a mistake. Because that's what led to you being dragged to Sophia's dressing room after the recording was done.

"What the hell was that?" Sophia asks, her voiced laced with venom as she stares at you. "What was what?" You ask clueless, you've never seen Sophia like this, it's scary, hot, but very scary.

"Fucking flirting with other idols now that you have new hair" She almost yells, keeping herself calm, just slightly. That's when it clicked for you, she was jealous.

You walk closer to her, placing your hands on either side of her waist. "Soph, baby, are you jealous?" You ask, searching her face for any underlying emotions. "Jealous" she scoffs "don't get too full of yourself" she huffs with her arms crossed, eyes looking everywhere but you

You place a gentle kiss to her lips, which causes her to look back at you. "Sophia, you do know I love only you right" you state with a soft smile. "I like no one else bit you ok?" You pause, making sure she understands the deepness of your words "I'll tell the girls to stop touching my hair so much if it'll appease you" you search her face, looking for any hint of anger left.

Her face softens, tho having a small pout as she nods. You smile in responds, placing another lingering kiss on her lips. "I love you ok? No one can change that." You whisper with your forehead resting on hers.

The trip back to the dorm was peaceful, holding Sophia's hand while she rests her head on your shoulder was the best outcome you could've asked for after her previous feelings. And unluckily for Sophia, yoonchae had been eavesdropping and told all the members.

The next few days were filled with teasing but Sophia didn't mind for the most part, the girls stopped touching you a lot and fans soon calmed down on the swooning. She could be jealous but you love her either way, and you would make sure she knew that she was the only one you'll love.