#but this one has been on my brain for a while now sooooo

[tardis--dreams]

I wish i could get buproprion without a prescription this shit is way too good to give up ㅠㅠ

[berrygoodjob]

Your pervert hc’s will not leave my brain, all I can think about is how the rest of the cast would act, cause I just know Alan and Lucas would both feel so guilty and ashamed of themselves, and I can only think of the word mortified when I think of Ren, Haku, and Sho with this one.

It has me really hoping you’re gonna put a few more of these out for sure, but either way, thanks for the writing you’ve already done, the fandom’s so new there’s so few fics, I’m glad I found this blog!

MDNI 18+

Pervert!TD

ft: Alan, Luca, Ren, Sho

Part one part two

Alan Mido

—pervert!Alan who looks away after the first time he accidentally checks you out. He just got so hard he doesn’t even know what to do. Like it was just a quick up and down glance. He has to excuse himself from the room immediately

—pervert!Alan who now can’t stop thinking of what it would feel like to have your hands pumping his dick instead of his own

—pervert!Alan does in fact feel INCREDIBLY guilty for his own thoughts. But even just looking at you while you’re talking about anything or everything he’s just trying to keep himself from imagining your lips around his cock

—pervert!Alan does his best to drown those thoughts, but they always come back to him when he’s alone at night, but it’s better than the thoughts that plagued him before you came along

—pervert!Alan wishes he could taste you, so badly, he needs to more than anything know what it tastes like to make you feel good. He knows if you’d let him, he could sit there and just pleasure you for hours on end like a starved man. He knows he’d take his sweet time and savor every moment, but for now, just having you in his presence is enough for him

Lucas Errant

—pervert!Luca cannot stop thinking about how badly he’d like to rail you. Stuff both his dick and all his stress somewhere deep inside you all at once

—pervert!Luca who peeks down your shirt in class accidentally once, and now ‘accidentally’ will drop pens or papers in hopes that you’ll bend over and pick it up just so he can sneak another peek

—pervert!Luca definitely knows better and feel bad for desiring you so deeply, but also hearing you say his name almost made him bust in his pants once

—pervert!Luca does his best to stop himself from jerking off to the thought of one of his few friends at darkwik, also the fact that you’re cursed makes it so much worse,,, he feels so bad, but cumming to the thought of you feels sooooo good

—pervert!Luca accidentally whimpered once because your hand grazed his hip as you were passing by, he really hopes you didn’t hear….

Ren Shiranami

—pervert!Ren who was totally normal in his feelings about you until he felt you cling to him one time on a mission. There couldn’t have been a worse moment for him to be on rock hard. Worst part is both Haru and Towa noticed too

—pervert!Ren makes sure his doors and windows are locked and covered when he’s jerking it to a photo of you

—pervert!Ren who invites you over to watch the directors cut of his favorite horror movie, and will be sniffing the space you occupied once you leave, just to get a little relief from the raging boner he had the whole time

—pervert!Ren definitely thinks about how badly you’d probably react if he just moved his hand down your chest and felt around a bit…. Surely it wouldn’t be that bad…. Who is he kidding, that’d make him look like as much of a weirdo as the others in a much worse way….

—pervert!Ren who picks movies with sex scene to watch how you react, maybe if he’s lucky you’ll leave a little wet spot from arousal on his bed for him to press his face into later…. He’ll be absolutely mortified by his own depravity doing this, but fuck all hell it feels so good…

Shohei Haizono

—pervert!Sho who was walked in on once by Leo right as he moaned your name, and is now being blackmailed into hanging out with you more (Leo is trying to set them up in the only way he knows how, blackmail)

—pervert!Sho loves taking you out for rides in his bike just to feel your body all pressed up against him

—pervert!Sho curses himself for having such perverted thoughts when you’ve done nothing but show him genuine kindness, but also he just wants to see how your ass would look riding him….. it’s only natural, right?

—pervert!Sho stays a little too close and is always ready to pull you around if youre not paying attention to where you’re walking. He’ll scold you for it, but inside he’s really just thinking about how easily he could pick you up and buck up into you since you’re so light to him (his goulish strength is wild picking up industrial refrigerators and shit)

—pervert!Sho who has a wet dream about you posing naked on his bike and now he has regular fantasies about bending you over and fucking your brains out on it, he keeps it to himself though… and the box of tissues by his bed

[destinationtrekk]

aftercare with wesker headcanons

a/n: he's taking over my brain like a parasite. i need him to kiss me sooooo bad and i'm 100% convinced he's the aftercare master

gn!reader, mentions of sex, nothing explicit but 18+ MDNI anyway

masterlist

the very first thing he does when he finally pulls out of you is cradle your face and check on you

he's very mindful of your state the entire time you're having sex, or doing anything together really, but he likes to make sure the endorphins and adrenaline haven't overwhelmed you after you finish (probably for the third or fourth time, at least)

he immediately wipes you down as well, he knows you hate to be sticky and you get really cold when your sweat dries

if you want to take a shower instead, he goes in with you. even if you're perfectly fine, he still wants to stay close. he's addicted to the quiet intimacy you give him and he'll use any excuse to justify never leaving your side

he's a velcro-boyfriend lapdog basically

in the shower he'll do everything for you as well, washing your hair and rubbing soap all over you to clean you off

sometimes this leads to another round, but it's pretty rare. even in his spacious shower he's still just a little too tall to make the position work

he'll sit you on the bathroom counter and dry you off, using a clean towel and taking his time to touch every inch of you.

sometimes, when he's been really rough on you, he'll make you lay flat so he can check you out, make sure he didn't tear you anywhere and that you don't have any chaffing or raw spots. he's so gentle when he touches you then, his fingers feather light as he rubs lotion or ointment on your sore spots

he's such a caretaker, now that he has someone he wants to take care of

once when you first got together, you had shyly asked for one of his t-shirts to sleep in, and even now, years later, he still hands you a soft shirt from his side of the closet and the sight of you wrapped in his clothing makes his heart soar

he makes you lay down and tucks you in, hands stroking over your head and arms while you smile sleepily up at him

he always makes you eat something, even if it's just some crackers or cheese or even a few pieces of chocolate. ideally he wants you to eat something like a protein bar, but you rarely have the stomach for anything heavy

he also makes you drink water, an entire bottle. he'll watch you to make sure you finish it, whether you chug it or take a few minutes to drink it, speaking softly with him in the mean time

he makes sure everything is ready before he finally gets in bed with you, checking the doors and locking them and flicking lights off. he has a really hard time shutting his mind off, even when he's this tired and content, so sometimes it takes you sitting up and pouting for him to settle and get in bed

this is his favorite part - 100%. you're wrapped tight in his arms, face pressed into his neck and warm breath fanning over his chest. it makes his heart skip a beat, the way you melt against him like you don't have a care in the world

he can smell your hair like this, and rub his hand up and down your back and cup your head to pull you closer. he's making sure to touch you as much as he can, your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces

you know he needs this just as much as you do. you make sure to thank him, to tell him what you liked and that you're grateful to have such a generous and kind partner to take care of you, and finally, that you love him

he appreciates it, every time, and hearing those three words from your lips (especially after he spent hours doing nasty, vulgar things to make you squirm and moan)

like i said he gets so deep in his head, whether it's before or after uroboros, and he really needs the reassurance that, after everything, you're actively choosing to love him

he tells you the same, that you were so good for him, so pretty and he adores you, and he loves you

he actually doesn't say he loves you very often. sometimes he's in his head and struggling with his emotions and the words are too much for him

he says them every time he's holding you like this though. not for himself, but to make sure you're happy and warm and comfortable and safe

you inevitably fall asleep on top of him, dead weight lax in his arms, and he's certain he's never been so happy in his life

[guiltyasdave]

peace

character: Oberyn Martell

word count: ~1.4k

tags/warnings: sooooo much angst, death, gore (you guys know how oberyn died)

a/n: i have NOTHING to say for myself. this is pure pain, i cried several times while writing it. created for @perotovar's amazing offering of frith challenge (thank you for the moodboard!!), pairing oberyn with freyja. i know nothing about norse mythology, so if any of this makes zero sense, i am so so sorry.

the biggest shoutout to @sizzlingcloudmentality who basically came up with the whole idea because my brain wasn't braining at all. thank you for holding my hand through this and for always cheering me on <3 this wouldn't exist without you.

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs and turn on notifications to be the first to know about fic updates and find my full masterlist here!

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

Darkness engulfs him. Chaos still echoes around his head, but it’s quiet now. 

He cannot open his eyes. Why can’t he open his eyes? Where there was pain, sharp and biting, is nothing now. 

His armor sticks to his skin, drenched in sweat. His face is just as sticky. Wrong, somehow. Why can’t he open his eyes? 

He doesn’t know how he got here. Where here even is. Has he gone back to Sunspear? It’s much too cold. Why can’t he remember? 

The stone under his feet is hard, rough against his bare soles. A shiver runs through his body. 

Soft pressure lands on his shoulder, the touch light as a feather. A hand. 

“Him.” 

A woman’s voice, just as feathery, a soft melody that rings through the darkness surrounding him. A faint echo follows her words. Where is he? 

“Prince Oberyn.”

Her breath is soft against his ear, her hand still resting on his shoulder. 

“Where am I? Who are you?” 

At least his voice doesn’t betray him. Still strong, still used to commanding a room, leaving no doubt that he’s worthy of being heard. 

A quiet laugh sounds as she’s leaning in closer. Her lips ghost over his earlobe.

“You will see.” 

Her fingers trace his, such soft touches against the ridges of his scarred, calloused ones. They intertwine, and he lets her lead him, searching his way through the darkness. Why can’t he open his eyes?

She hums, a somber, pensive note. 

“You do not remember.”

No. 

The faint echo of her footsteps falls quiet beside him. “Let me show you.”

The touch of cool fingertips ghosts over his temples. His eyes remain closed, out of his reach, but images fill his head regardless.

The bright blue sky, the sun burning down on him. Sweat clinging to his skin. The spear in his hand, coated in blood. The rage running through his veins, the bittersweet taste of vengeance on his tongue. The opportunity to seek justice, finally. 

He had been thinking of his sister, laughing together when they were kids, running through the gardens. Then watching her leave. The hope shining in her eyes the last time he saw her, hugged her. 

The shout of Say her name! Say it! still heavy on his tongue, when the world tipped upside down, his body moving too quickly, until his back hit the hard stone ground. 

The sickening crunch, reaching his ears before the pain registered, before his head got caved in. The confession he had been waiting for, fighting for— now meaningless, drowned out by the overwhelming pain, as the world went dark. 

The last thing he hears is Ellaria’s scream, piercing through him. Today is not the day I die. Aching fills his heart, heavy, weighing him down. He thinks of her, of all the promises he made, now to be broken. He thinks of his daughters. He wasn’t ready to leave. 

A sob escapes him, his fists clenching at his sides. The woman’s fingers rake through his hair gently. 

“Why am I here?” He hadn’t noticed before, but speaking doesn’t feel right either. 

“I have been watching you your whole life, Prince Oberyn.” She sighs. Dreamily, almost. “A man both fighting and loving so fiercely. You reminded me of myself.”

Gently tugging at his hand, she leads him further into darkness. Darkness, because his eyes are no longer there. 

“When great warriors die, they come to me. To fight for me. That is why you are here.”

His feet come to a halt. 

“How can I fight for you, when I cannot see? I am no longer the great warrior that you have been watching.”

Her melodic, soft laughter echoes around them. “You will always be a great warrior. Do not worry.” 

He’s led to what she calls his chambers, where she leaves him at the door, her footsteps slowly floating away. He still can’t use his eyes, uncertain how to find his way, but he can still feel her there, in the back of his head. Leading him, even without seeing. 

Inside, he paces, circling just like the thoughts in his head. He had never paid much thought to the afterlife. Had always thought it was a long lifetime away. Had never imagined it like this. 

At night, sleep evades him. The screaming echoes in his ears, the images of his last moments are seared into his memory now, finding a permanent home at the forefront of his mind. Everything he was, everything he took pride in, has gone up in flames. He is nothing, now. 

When the woman returns, the question of why bursts from his lips. 

“Because you are special, my prince. You always have been.” A smile, invisible to him, paints her voice. “I have always liked beautiful things. I have always wanted you. I have been waiting for you your whole life.”

A laugh tumbles from him, unbelieving, humorless. 

“There is nothing special about me now. Or beautiful.”

For the first time, there is an edge in her tone. 

“Do not question me, Prince Oberyn.”

Time doesn’t pass the way it used to. He’s uncertain if it’s the permanent darkness engulfing him, or just the nature of this place. 

He learns how to fight again, learns how to rely on his hearing. It comes to him easily, a whisper of always a great warrior in the back of his head. He might even enjoy the challenge it presents, might enjoy the grim satisfaction it brings him. The realization that some part of him might not be entirely lost. Still, it never drives out the darkness. 

When his mind isn’t occupied, it always comes back to haunt him. Ellaria still screams in his head. He still sees his girls, wonders what they are doing. Hates himself for not being there to witness it. He sees Elia. Sees the hope draining from her eyes. He even sees Tyrion, the fate he has condemned him to.

He has failed them, all of them. Sometimes, when the darkness isn’t threatening to drown him, he understands what the woman saw in him, but that man is long gone. The longer he’s here, the more he understands what she means, talking about how he’s just like her. He had been, once. The companion that she must have wished for, but that he cannot be.

She requests his presence often, an honor, he’s certain, but it’s draining him. Everything about her reminds him of who he was, of all the things that are long lost now. 

One night he awakes with a start, the images in his head familiar by now, but the terror they leave him in never lessening. There’s nothing but darkness in his mind, nothing but darkness behind his eyes, nothing to chase the devastation away. 

He has never been to her chambers before, doesn’t know which path to take, but once again, it’s as if she’s in his head, guiding his way. The door opens before he has the chance to knock, her presence filled with the same heaviness as his own. 

She greets him, her voice a sad song in his ears. She already knows, there is no way that she doesn’t. He speaks regardless, has to get the words out. 

“Let me go on, I beg you.” His voice cracks. “Let me find my peace.”

She’s quiet for a long time, nothing but her trembling breaths breaking the silence. 

“I know. It was selfish of me to keep you.”

Her voice is thick with tears, her touch gentle at his temples, ghosting over where his eyes used to be. Her fingertips are cold against his skin. 

There is something else, something shifting under his skin, something smooth like glass, where he got used to nothing. 

“Open your eyes, Prince Oberyn.”

It’s a movement, a sensation that he had almost forgotten, but when he does, when he sees, everything is tinted in amber. He lays eyes on the woman for the first time, on the tears in a slightly darker shade that are spilling from her eyes. They are coating her fingers that are still outstretched towards him. 

She smiles the most beautiful, saddest smile, one that aches to look at. There’s a final caress of his cheek, a whispered Go on, my prince. 

Like a tether has been loosened, he feels himself fading, drifting away into nothingness. 

Finally, he is at peace.

...i'll just see myself out (if you liked this, a comment or a reblog would absolutely make my day though <3)

[pedge-page]

HIIIII UR LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAV WRITERS IN TUMBLR and ily so much 💝 i appreciate all your hard work that you poured into your writings, making them perfect to read. i've been obsessed with himbo!joel lately and i have an idea. idk if you've done this before but how ab himbo!joel and piss kink crossover? ignore this if you're feeling that you're not comfortable this ask! 🩷

Nonny, I know you submitted this back in May but this has been top of my mind for so long. When i first read this, I was ELATED because Himbo!Joel's original first draft was actually a piss kink! I went a different direction but I'm sooooo glad you've asked this because i didn't have to throw away the og after all :) Thank you for your patience and please enjoy!

Different Kind of Lovin'

Himbo!Joel Miller x F!Reader

warnings: Piss kink, Mommy kink, himbo!Joel, unprotected sex, peeing inside vagina, sub!Joel, dom-ish!Reader, public sex, slight somnophilia, brief piss drinking

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel howls as you clench around him, taking a moment to pant like a dog in heat.

He buries his nose into your neck, where it’s safe, where he belongs, as you stroke along his sweated back. “You okay, baby boy?” You coo softly into his ear.

You feel his head nod. “Mkay...” He shivers before kissing your cheek and resuming his thrusts. In, out, up, down, again and again, in ample rhythm. He’s practicing a beat today. There’s a time for wild fucking with the intent to cum his brains out, and there’s a time for slow, sensual, methodical sex, which is something he’s working so well on today.

“You’re doing so good for Mommy today."

He purrs. His hips stutter from excitement, and you feel his cock swell impossibly larger in your swollen, squelching pussy. Joel pauses briefly, collecting himself before returning to his steady pace.

“Mommy,” he hums dangerously. You turn your head to look at him, but he’s still buried into your neck. Almost as if embarrassed by something.

“What is it, baby? It’s okay, you can tell me.”

He grunts again, shaking his head. His pace falters again. Humping in quick, desperate succession. He’s straining hard, fists clenched under your upper back. 

You gather his face, and he nearly loses it right there. Your eyes on him, so soft and sincere, and there for him. Always there. Whenever he needs you and whenever he wants you. Even when he doesn’t know it yet. You’re there, you’re here, you’re his.

“Tell me,” you whisper lovingly while stroking along the stubble of his beard.

He gathers his courage. “Mommy. I—um. I need…I need to pee.”

You can laugh. but a small grin cracks at your lips. “Is that it?”

He nods quickly. You realize all the clenching, and the poor rhythm was most likely due to him trying to hold it, as opposed to trying to be steady. 

Your smooth calves slink along his taught ass before wrapping around, securing him to you.

“That’s okay, angel,” you nod encouragingly, using your ankles to start rocking his hips back and forth, driving his cock in and out of you again. He moans, pleasure consuming his intuition. “You can do it inside.”

“I-Inside?”

His length pulses excitedly, but he’s trying so hard to act like that didn’t just give him a thrill. As if he can pretend he didn’t think of it before.

“Mhm. You can squirt all your juices into Mommy’s pussy. I want everything you give me. Give me your juices, Joel. Mommy wants to feel your warmth filling her. No matter what it is. Mommy will take it.”

“But—ugh fuck Mommy please don’t squeeze like that—I don’t… wanna pee myself—“

“You’re not gonna pee yourself,” you say sternly. Your hands make their way to his ass, pulling him into you at your own desired pace. He can’t be left to be in control of his desires right now, so you need to take charge, to show him it’s really okay.

To show him what he’s missing out on.

“You’re gonna squirt your piss inside me. It’s gonna be okay. It’ll feel really good honey, I promise.”

“Oh my god,” he cries. His brows are drawn tightly together as he takes your lead. His throbbing member is practically forcing out your sweet pussy juices, making way to fill it with his own brew. 

You can barely see straight as he positions his knees to force himself deeper into your womb. Arching your back, Joel holds on tightly, arms tucked below your pits and hands snaked back over your shoulders as his whining increases. The room fills with your hot breaths, Joel’s throaty rasps, and the fastened slap of wet skin.

His voice catches in his throat when it happens. The tingling sensation feels free, and he releases inside of you. He can’t believe it. Can’t comprehend the feeling inside him, inside you right now. Dumping, pouring, squirting and stuffing you to the brim with his massive load of hot urine just shooting out of his cock and safely into your pussy. He never knew it could be this good. you were right, you always are of course, but to think it would amount to the level of pleasure, yet on a different end, as cumming inside you.

“That’s it—that’s my boy—ohhhh honey you had to go a lot didn’t you?” You tease, eyes rolling as you start to shake and cum around his cock. “Oh fuck! Oh baby that’s it. Keep squirting inside me. Fuck you always have big load. Always ready to fill Mommy with your sweet hot juices. Fuck Joel, keep going!”

You quiver as Joel’s mouth still is agape, watching you, having an out of bodied experience himself. He feels another stream, stronger than the last ready to make its way from his bladder to your cunt, and here it comes-- fuck yes!

Hot and wet, his urine plunges out of you in spurts, soaking your ass and the bed below. He pushes in further, feeling his balls and pelvis get soaked with his new juices that his Mommy loves so much. Why had he never peed inside you before? Given the blissed out look on your braindead face, he knows you liked it, you liked it so much. He starts thrusting again, eager to give you more of his warm juices from his body.

The squelch is phenomenal. So hot, hot, hot, sticky and wet all over. Fueled now the he still hasn’t cum. Where his piss ends and your slick begins, he can’t tell, and he loves it. Loves that he’s put something in you that couldn’t be contained, flows out like the love he fills you with each day.

You laugh off his hungry fucking again, no longer caring to practice rhythm. He can rut, hump, piss and cum to his hearts content. So long as he’s buried balls deep inside you, anything he wants to pour into you, he’s eager to put it in.

Eventually, he can’t pee anywhere comfortably unless it’s inside you. Which makes regular day to day routines… slightly more complicated than before. 

Like at night, when you’re fast asleep with his cum still sticky and leaking out of you. He fists his cock and slides right in, careful not to stir you. He holds his breath and starts to go, wetting the you and the bed. He passes out in a puddle of his own piss before you can really discipline him. 

He finds you without fail, whether you’re in the same house or 5 miles apart. When he needs to go, he gets hard too, and he knows only Mommy can handle that for him.

Pushes you against a wall and grinds his length against your ass. “Mommy,” he hums with a grin. “I need to go, please.”

It’s not really an ask, as he strips your pants down and pushes aside your panties, rolling his bulbous tip against your slit. He doesn’t wait for a reply. Poor thing, probably holding it in all day and doing a little funny dance as he rushed his way to find you and give you his juices.

“Have a big potty for ya today. Almost burst my juice everywhere. Got to ya just in time…”

He pushes in one go, his voice stuttering with a lazy grin. Not even a thrust later and he moaning in content as he pisses inside your hot pussy with even hotter urine. It rapidly spills and trickles down your thighs. Luckily from experience, you had known to discard and kick your pants away when he does this, so the yellow puddle of his liquid forms on the pavement below. 

He grips your hips with both meaty paws, grinding his front into your ass as closely as possible. It feels best when his tip can brush along your cervix before spurting out the last of his potty. 

“Joel Miller, you have made a mess of me,” you say, shaking your head with a slight smirk.

Rather than feeling any remorse, he returns your grin with an even bigger one of his own, slowly sliding down to his knees while maintaining eyes with you.

He swallows just as you lean back and spread your legs, fingers parting your folds to reveal the shiny translucent drips of his piss still wetting your cunt and down your inner legs. 

“Clean me spotless, and I’ll let you piss in Mommy’s ass, and I’ll plug it all day so I keep your love warm for the next time you have to go.” 

You never need to ask twice. His tongue is already lapping at your knees, between your thighs and up to your succulent, swollen, precious, pretty pussy. Sucking the little dribble on your clit. Straightening his tongue to dive deep into your entrance before flattening it, stretching your wall and making a slide so his pee and your juices can slide right into his mouth.

He smiles like a stupid, drunk, fantastic boy.

He can’t wait to put his piss in your ass next. 

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @peekyourinterest

[kysuguru]

two out of three. that’ll work — stsg x fem!reader

synopsis : gojo still doesn’t take to you, but in the throes of your eyes geto’s smile is prettier and shoko’s personality is much more welcoming. you’ll live.

all mine masterlist

includes / cw : nothing ^_^

a / n : i’m sooooo sooo so sorry for such a long wait, truly. i nitpick HELLA. and i want everyone to remember this book was made on a whim. an impulse book if u will. so even though i have concrete ideas and outlines for the main plots, i’m writing as i go while making my way there. I trashed this about three times before finally coming to a conclusion i was somewhat satisfied with. please enjoy

You lay awake, staring at the ceiling of your dorm absentmindedly. Your alarm has yet to ring. It’s presumably thirty minutes before you have to get up and prepare for the day. Your eyes are burning and it hurts to blink, your throat feels dry and scratchy; aching for its thirst to be quenched, and your body is exhausted beyond belief. Your brain craves rest more than anything, but you still aren’t able to succumb to that sweet sleep you crave. It’s been about 15 minutes already, you think. If the steadily rising sun is anything to go by. Time passes by fast when you need it to be slow. Maybe it’s the nerves. Or the fact that it wasn’t until midnight that you returned to your dorm.

Five hours of sleep was the minimum you could get, your brain didn’t let you rest long. But you figured you’d be alright. Whenever curses were near your house, one instance of one being in your bedroom, you remember not sleeping at all if not at least 30 minutes. You got in trouble that day and scolded by your mother for sleeping in class.

As of now, your eyes are droopy and red and your body feels cramped. But the accomplishment you feel after understanding more of this foreign world of curses overrode your exhaustion. You’re not sure if you feel that same sentiment now though. You cursed your past self for putting you through such strain. Your thirst for knowledge occasionally brought you one step forward and two steps back. Being all knowing was the only way you felt significant.

As of the moment, it was one of those instances where your yearning hurt more than it nourished. Though, it was all really fascinating. Cursed energy, cursed techniques, and how they worked and came to be, there wasn’t a second you could bring yourself to put the books down. To believe the negative emotions of people fester into those horrid creatures…

It’s no wonder they were around every single corner of your school.

You’re embarrassed to say you still have no idea what your technique is, or the innate technique you were born with — or if you had an innate technique for that matter. From what you know being born with an innate technique isn’t all that likely. They manifest from ages 4-6 yet no matter how much you shuffled through your memories to see if there were any instances where you were forced to use your technique, you’re left with nothing. Maybe you did and just don’t know or don’t remember — that’s the most irritating part. You grip your hair slightly, eyes burning into the white of your walls.

There are bags forming under your eyes, you think. It hurts a bit to blink, since you got accustomed to keeping them open while flipping through books, the intrigue not allowing you to divert your attention from the pages for even a second. But to you, it was worth it. One more step to learning about this and making your way back home. To where your mother was (hopefully) missing you just as much as you do her. Maybe you should get up and attempt to cover up the evidence of your lack of sleep.

You turn to lay on your side, staring at your open palm. If you look close enough you can see a faint scar. You clench your fist closed, blinking groggily. Your breathing starts to get steadier as you stare at your knuckles, your eyes feel as if weights are pulling them down, your mind wanders to random things you don’t remember thinking about a millisecond later.

Before you know it, you’re falling asleep.

Though the three seconds of bliss was nice while it lasted, before the familiar obnoxious beep of your alarm clock rang through your ears.

You sigh. You should’ve expected that. Your mind slipped once you woke and you forgot to turn that damned thing off. Though maybe that mistake was a blessing, being late to your first day of class would be a horrible first impression. Or would it be second..?

Now you stand in the mirror and eye your uniform with intense uncertainty. You have an inkling that you look stupid. So you tug your skirt down a little bit. Ok, now you look 12. You pull up the hem.

…

Maybe you should add stockings.

The addition is better, you deduce. You’re content with this. You smile at your reflection, speaking encouraging words to yourself internally. You feel your body shake a bit at the idea of entering the classroom, the thought of four pairs of eyes glued to your form, but your body relaxes slightly at the memory of Shoko. She called you her friend, whether or not it was genuine, you’ll take what you can get. There is no point in being greedy and craving for what you don’t have — or deserve.

You lift your leg and adjust the back of your shoe to fit over the sole of your feet properly. You huff in satisfaction, standing straight and adjusting whatever you could before heading out.

Wait. Do you need supplies? Shit, now you’re nervous all over again.

Wait, wait, wait. If you needed supplies, you would’ve been informed earlier, so if required, Yaga should be obligated to give you what you don’t have.

…That’s unless he did mention it and you just weren’t listening.

Your back is against your dorm room door as you grip your head in agony. Maybe you should just tell Yaga you got the one-day flu and figure it all out tomorrow.

“Yo. You look like an idiot doing that.”

The voice is familiar, but not familiar in the way you’d like. He was no Geto, and he definitely wasn’t Shoko. You look up, eyes watery, and meet Gojo’s gaze.

“You going through something? Wait, don't answer that, I don’t wanna know,” He says, waving his hand obnoxiously, his lips downturned. “Hate to interrupt whatever’s goin’ on, but class is in thirty minutes. If you’re anything like Suguru you’re an early bird, right?”

“Oh.. sort of,” You respond, trying to discreetly wipe whatever tears that might’ve formed. He watches you do it anyway, following your movements closely. You’re a little humiliated now. He probably thinks you’re pathetic.

His stare is unrelenting, you can feel it even behind those pitch black lenses. It burns into you. Through you. You drop his gaze, eyes on the floor as you shuffle your feet.

Did he need anything else? You’re grateful he let you know when class begins, but you two aren’t exactly best friends, and you're positive this is awkward for the both of you.

But you see his shoes from your peripheral view and they stay rooted to the floor. You hold back a shaky sigh.

“Are you heading to class right now?” You ask in hopes to get rid of the suffocating silence. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to starting conversations. Your eyes are still memorizing every dirt particle on your new shoes (which feel odd to wear, you’re so used to staring anxiously at the ones your mother gifted you a year or two ago). Why did he, out of all people, approach you during your crisis? You wished more than anything that it was Shoko, but from what you know about her alone, you’re more sure than ever that she doesn’t go to class early.

“I don’t usually go early, that’s Suguru’s thing. But I guess todays an exception.” You blink, he has a lot to say. You expected a short, clipped answer. “Anyways what’re you doing out here, and what was with the gripping your head thing? Going through a phase?” He asks a barrage of questions, making sure to push his glasses up in case they slipped a smidge. You seemed perceptive, he didn’t need you staring him down and reading him.

“Oh, I was nervous. That’s all.”

Gojo nods, staring at you for a few seconds longer before his feet finally pick up from their spot on the floor. He’s walking off.

“Wait!” Your heartbeat spikes as the exclamation leaves your lips.

His shoes squeak against the tiles as he halts. He doesn’t turn towards you, but the fact that he stopped let you know he heard you. You don’t know why your heart is beating so loud, you’re only asking a simple question.

“Do we need any particular supplies for class, by any chance?” Your voice rises a pitch, and you fiddle with your skirt, positive you’re coming off as annoying.

“We take notes every now and then, by we I don’t mean me, so a notebook would be nice but isn’t required, and you don’t look like you have one with you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, finally facing you, “Let’s hope you have a good memory. Sensei likes to run his mouth.” He jabs, most likely to see you panic. It works.

Your eyes widen and you bite your lip, fiddling with your skirt, but you’re shocked once you hear Gojo laugh. He throws his head back and you stare a bit. You’re gonna admit, you expected it to be a little more rough and loud. It sounds a bit odd, but it’s kinda funny to listen to, almost enough to make you laugh along. Now the question that’s been sitting on your tongue has the sudden urge to come forward.

Your mouth moves before your mind processes, “Can I walk to class with you?”

“Huh?”

You screwed up, you didn’t mean to ask that — I mean you did. But with his response you’re kind of regretting it now. “Sorry. It’s just I don’t remember the way, and if you’re on your way there I thought maybe I can tag along. Though, it’s okay if you say no.” You wave your hands frantically, trying your best to salvage whatever dignity you have left. You instantly start playing with your nails, looking down at your shoes.

He’s silent for a moment, as if contemplating. Then he sighs.

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

You beam, thankful.

“I promise not to be annoying.”

“You’re already being annoying by saying that.”

“Sorry!”

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry. Oh wait uh..”

“…”

He scoffs before walking forward. You sprint a bit to catch up with his pace. He has really long legs. You stare at his side profile as he walks, if he notices your eyes, he doesn’t say anything. But you catch the twitch of his brow. You watch every movement you catch on his features intently, dead set on getting to know him more. You wonder if your gaze feels as burning as his does on you. As if he knows you inside out.

You were never aware of your staring problem until now.

Gojo is struggling himself. Trying not to meet your gaze. It proves to be difficult, for he wants to glare you down and watch you squirm nervously before you finally break eye contact. He hates how bare he feels when you stare.

“Gojo, what’s your inherited technique?”

“Infinity,” he pops a sucker into his mouth, uninterested. But you ignore that, eyes wide as you gasp in awe, intrigued.

“Can you explain that to me?”

Gojo catches sight of your expecting face, how your eyes glittered as your lips part. He can’t help the stroke of his ego. He quickly became smug.

“I have the ability to manipulate and distort space.” His glasses slip a smidge down the bridge of his nose, you can see a sliver of his eyes. He doesn’t push them up like you expect him to, he tends to do that — from what you’ve noticed — and they’re glowing. “Hold out your hand,” he demands, long fingers splayed out in your face.

You reach up and before you can press your fingertips against his palm, a barrier is manifested between the two of you. “Woah, there’s like.. a wall between us.”

“It’s infinity.”

You look up at him, even more in awe, “So it’s science, right? That makes it easy to explain then, huh? I thought it was way more complicated than that.” You’re too engrossed in repeatedly retracting your hand and pressing it back against this “barrier” to notice how Gojo’s expression shifts.

He pulls his hand back as if he’d been burnt and you blink, swiftly putting your own hand back by your side. A frown plagues your lips. You figure you did get a bit carried away, it was really nice to see a cursed technique at play for the first time ever. And you’re glad it was something as magnificent as that. You got excited, forgetting boundaries.

Before you can express your gratitude and apologize, Gojo is striding off once more. You notice this time he’s walking a bit faster, as if he intends on leaving you behind. Your brows knit as you sigh. You don’t jog up to him this time, letting the distance between you increase. You’re always taught not to be greedy. Occurrences like this coming into play to drill that in your head, yet you fail every time — constantly wanting more.

You enter the classroom a bit after Gojo, already seeing him with a big beam on his face as he rambles off with Geto. He’s mad at you again, you think. This is normal for you — people being upset with you. It shouldn’t hurt, but it does. You try your hardest to pretend it doesn’t.

Shoko’s not here yet, unfortunately. You see two empty seats and assume the vacant one by Geto is Shoko’s, so you take the other seat. You aren’t sure what to do with this extra time, you shouldn’t have come so early, so you settle with fiddling with your fingers and looking out the window.

You hear Geto’s voice and you’re not sure if you’re being looked at, but you’re way too nervous to check, afraid that if you looked you’d be caught.

“Ogawa.”

It isn’t until a full minute later you realize that Geto was trying to get your attention the entire time. You finally look at him, the curiosity brimming in your chest and the urge to look back finally sated. His smile is kind and soft. He pats the empty seat beside him. “Why don’t you sit?”

You jolt.

“Isn’t that Shoko’s seat?” You point nervously, trying to find a way out of this. If conversation is what Geto is looking for, you’re the last person that can provide.

Gojo scoffs and you retreat into yourself, eyes averted.

You faintly hear Geto shove Gojo and tell him to shut up over the loud pounding of your heartbeat before he’s turning back to you, that same, already familiar smile plastered on his lips. “I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“You.. really want me to sit by you?” You ask, hopefully. You guess you still have yet to learn and expect disappointment. Geto nods, his smile getting brighter and you glow like the stars.

You stand meekly, shuffling into the seat as quietly as you could, cringing when the metal cried loudly against the tile floor. Geto huffs in satisfaction and your shoulders relax a bit. You wish Gojo weren’t here to stare the both of you down, you feel somewhat uncomfortable by his overwhelming presence. You have an inkling that disturbing you is his goal, for a small smirk paints his lips.

Geto’s voice is soft as he speaks to you. He’s asking you about yourself and you answer somewhat vaguely, unsure of how to go about talking to him. You stammer a bit, trying to find your words. You get a bit fidgety, afraid he might get irritated with you, but he’s as patient as ever, smiling as he awaits your answer. That’s when you relax completely, finding it easier to answer him in stride. You never knew Geto could be so easy to talk to. You’re starting to like him even more. It’s hard not to favor people who are nice to you. But you can’t get ahead of yourself. You have to learn to expect disappointment so you won’t be disappointed.

Gojo doesn’t say a word, staring at the two of you converse so easily. He doesn’t understand why Geto seems so interested in getting to know you. You’re boring, you don’t even know your technique for crying out loud. Weak people piss Gojo off.

Gojo walks by you as you hold your head in your hands, leaning against your dorm door. He’s confused, are you going through something? You look stupid, and he withholds the urge not to laugh at your expense. If Geto were here he’d definitely scold him. He thinks of that and the nagging Geto would put him through. He rolls his eyes and decides to approach.

“Yo. You look like an idiot doing that.”

Well he didn’t actually mean for it to come across that way, but sometimes his mouth likes to run before his brain liked to function.

You look up at him, tears brimming your lashes. The sight makes him sigh internally. If he knew you’d be crying he would’ve avoided you altogether. Comforting you is beyond his expertise. Well.. it’s not. He’d just rather not waste his time.

He asks if you were going through it. Another moment of his mouth moving before his brain. But you don’t seem to take offense, more like you just seem a bit embarrassed at being caught nearly crying.

“Hate to interrupt whatever’s goin’ on, but class is in thirty minutes. If you’re anything like Suguru you’re an early bird, right?”

You answer meekly, wiping your tears with your sleeve. He catches himself eyeing your attire behind his glasses. He’s staring at you and he’s positive you can tell, for your head tips towards the floor. You seem to be awaiting his departure, but he stays rooted to the floor, content on tormenting you this way.

“Are you heading to class right now?”

He never expected you to be the type to start a conversation, not with him especially. He noticed how uneasy you felt around him. But he cuts you some slack and answers.

“I don’t usually go early, that’s Suguru’s thing. But I guess todays an exception. Anyways what’re you doing out here, and what was with the gripping your head thing? Going through a phase?” He answers you and throws a barrage of questions coyly.

You blink. Gojo realizes how much left his mouth at once and pushes up his glasses. You come up with a sorry answer and Gojo decides he’s wasted enough time. If he got there now he could talk to Suguru about yesterday’s conversation with the higher ups before Yaga arrives. He starts to walk off, now considering the conversation boring.

Your voice interrupts his stride, you sound somewhat panicked and he contemplates hearing you out. You must’ve taken his stillness as a cue.

“Do we need any particular supplies for class, by any chance?”

You sound anxious, and he doesn’t even have to look to know you’re shuffling your feet.

“We take notes every now and then, by we I don’t mean me, so a notebook would be nice but isn’t required, and you don’t look like you have one with you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, and turns to face you. He was correct, this time you’re fiddling with your ridiculously long skirt.

“Let’s hope you have a good memory. Sensei likes to run his mouth.” The only entertaining thing about you is the expressions you make. And he isn’t disappointed with this one either. He doesn’t know why he finds your sorrow so comedic but this time he can’t hold back his laugh. If Geto knew about this or witnessed it, he’d definitely scold him, but Gojo doesn’t care at the moment, shoulders shaking as he cackled obnoxiously.

He sighs, wiping under his eyes, lifting his glasses a little. He thinks that’s enough for now, and prepares to walk off to class. But then you ask a question that makes him freeze, “Can I walk to class with you?”

“Huh?”

He raises a brow, he knows you can’t see it, but he’s looking at you as if you’re crazy.

You instantly wave your hands in panic, trying to explain yourself, he thinks your excuse is lame. “Sorry. It’s just I don’t remember the way, and if you’re on your way there I thought maybe I can tag along. Though, it’s okay if you say no.”

He’s extremely annoyed with you now, watching you fidget and shuffle about with a frown plaguing his lips. A rejection is already sitting on his tongue, ready to be fired, but he knows how disappointed Geto might be with him, so his shoulders drop.

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

He watches you instantly glow. You’re not smiling but he can tell you’re happy. It’s the first time he’s seeing an expression that isn’t filled with some type of despair on you. He thinks he prefers your anguish.

“I promise not to be annoying.”

He rolls his eyes, picking up his pace.

“You’re already being annoying by saying that.”

“Sorry!”

“Stop apologizing.”

You say sorry again and he scoffs to himself. Could you get any more annoying? He can hear your hurried footsteps as you try to match his stride, he feels a bit bad and slows down a bit, letting the two of you walk side by side. He did it to be nice, but it’s a decision he instantly regrets. Did your parents ever teach you that staring was impolite? The burning of your eyes against the side of his face pisses him off. But he tries his hardest not to show his anger on his face because of your intense stare.

He can’t help the twitch of his facade and he thinks you noticed. He’s resisting the urge to meet your stare, glare you down and watch you shuffle like you usually do. He craves to make you uncomfortable and show you who’s really stronger between the two of you. He really can’t comprehend where these hostile emotions are coming from but he also doesn’t care to dig deep and figure it out. It’ll come to him eventually. So for now he’ll get a bit excited as you ask about his cursed technique, jumping at the opportunity to show you how strong he is.

You’re in awe and his ego instantly skyrockets. You press your hand against his infinity over and over again, an intrigued gleam in your eyes as your lips part in a gasp.

“So it’s science, right? That makes it easy to explain then, huh? I thought it was way more complicated than that.”

For some reason that makes him irritated. “Easy to explain.” Funny coming from someone who had no idea what cursed techniques were barely twenty-four hours before. He pulls his hand away from you, as if he was burnt and instantly walks off. He thanks his long legs and their advantage to gain distance from you.

He resists the urge to turn and see your expression.

He originally did it all with Geto in mind; mulling over how he would feel if he’d left you deserted in that hallway, nervous eyes and shaky hands as you tried to find your way. Curse Geto for being such a heavy influence on him, because now he wished he’d never encountered you. Gojo considers his day already ruined before it barely started.

Now he sits and watches you converse with his best friend as if he was your best friend. Geto was always the friendly, welcoming type, so he can’t fathom why it irks him so. But it has to be your fault somehow, so until he figures that out he decides to brood in silence, arms crossed.

Shoko enters and your attention is instantly diverted. One of the many times Gojo is grateful for her existence. You were more comfortable with her than the other two. Probably a girls thing. Gojo didn’t care to understand. He instantly decided anything that had something to do with you would be ignored to the best of his abilities.

You greet Shoko in a quiet voice, as if cautious, and instantly brighten when she sends you a soft smile and a greeting in return. She points to her spot and looks at Geto inquisitively, hovering behind you. He just shrugs with a sheepish smile. So she simply sits and scoots her chair closer to you, waving her hand in a shooing motion towards Geto, “It’s my turn to hog her, your boyfriend looks upset, go comfort him.”

Geto’s head whips towards Gojo instantly, seeing his pouty expression with his arms crossed. He sighs in exasperation, a fond smile painting his lips.

You watch the two of them for a second or more before looking at Shoko. You didn’t know they were dating..

Shoko chuckles, and speaks up as if she read your mind, “They’re not actually dating. Yet, anyways. They love dancing in circles around each other. It’s irritating to witness. Utahime is a grade above me so unfortunately she doesn’t suffer through it as much as me.” She nudges you, her eyes crinkling as her smile stretches a bit wider, “You’re here with me now though, so we can suffer it together, kay?”

You nod eagerly, as if it was meant to be a good thing. Suffering anything is manageable if someone as kind as Shoko is there with you. You need to get her a gift for her kindness. Such a wonderful girl!

Yaga enters the room about twenty minutes later. Shoko lets you borrow a notebook of hers and you instantly get to jotting things down. You’re a bit surprised when you notice how mundane these subjects are. But it makes sense, you’re all still teenagers after all. You’d probably see it as inhumane if all this school taught to their students was jujutsu. No matter the importance of sorcerers and preserving the lives of non-sorcerers, it was always good to live life at least a little normally, to you anyways.

Time passed with you trying to avoid answering questions as much as possible. Even though you hated doing it, you also couldn’t help it. Whenever Yaga looked your way your eyes flew to your paper and you instantly got to acting busy to avoid getting picked on. Plus, it wasn’t like you needed to… Geto was there to answer every question smoothly for the rest of you, so there was no need, right?

Though you suppose it wasn’t evadable forever.

“[Name], can you answer this one?”

You jolt, looking up from your paper where you were “writing” (you just hovered the pen over the paper and moved it about). It was an easy algebra question, so you answered it with ease, albeit quietly. Yaga hummed in approval and moved on. It wasn’t all that bad, you recognize, but the attention is still unnerving.

Shoko nudges your side, “I got a smart girl on my radar it looks like,” she whispers. “You’ll let me copy your notes, right?” She jokes.

You nod instantly, the premise of the joke flying straight over your head. If it’ll keep her around you’ll write her as many notes as need be, you thought. It was the least you could do to repay her kindness!

She giggles quietly, and her laugh was instantly a melody you became enamored with. “I was joking, don’t worry. But you seem smart, born a genius like a certain someone, I presume?” She says coyly and her eyes drift to a particular person one seat down. You force your eyes not to drift in the direction of her finger.

“I usually study in my free time,” You shut down her assumption, you were nowhere near born a genius. “Guess you can say it’s a hobby of mine,” you shrug, whispering alongside her. It was nice, it felt like the two of you were sharing secrets.

“A hobby?” She laughs, shocked and intrigued. “You get more odd by the second.”

Your expression shifts, something she doesn’t hesitate to spot. She lays a hand on your shoulder and rubs it assuringly as she whispers, “No sweat, it’s a good thing. To me, at least. I don’t think I’d be friends with those two idiots otherwise.”

Your face relaxes and she smiles.

“Shoko,” you suddenly speak, surprising the both of you — you the most. Her eyes flit to your own and she sits, awaiting. “Do you like sweet things?” You ask, cupping your hand around your mouth as if that’ll make you any quieter.

Shoko entertains you with a grin and replicates you, hand cupped around her mouth as she leans close to whisper. Her eyes drift over you — if checking you out, something that escapes your notice — before she answers, “I love sweet stuff.”

You seem satisfied with her answer so she shifts her attention back to her notebook. Yaga turns around and her eyes flit between her notes and the board, pretending to be immersed. Though you don’t think she has anyone fooled. You glance at her for a moment more before you do the same and settle for doodling on the empty parts of your notes. Small doodles of Shoko and Geto holding gifts with big smiles on their faces. You subconsciously grin into your hand. You have no clue what either of them prefer but the thought is nice… Maybe you can ask later. Hopefully Geto will have a moment where Gojo isn’t hanging off of him.

You discreetly shuffle your position so you feel comfortable enough to gaze at him. He looks extremely focused, brows slightly furrowed as he taps his pen lightly against the desk, as if afraid to disturb the silent classroom. Your eyes drift a bit to catch a glimpse of his counterpart. A scoff of bewilderment almost involuntarily leaves your lips at the sight of Gojo simply trying to balance a pencil between his nose and the peak of his lip. Even though you have a sudden urge to call him out on his stupidity, this is actually the perfect opportunity to ask what you wanted from Geto without his leering glare, he seems distracted enough.

Yaga is turned towards the board too, voice booming loud enough that if you whispered, he wouldn’t be able to hear you over the sound of himself. It’s insane that you feel so nervous, as if speaking to a classmate during teaching is some sort of crime. But you recall the small doodle of him smiling happily with his gift and persevere.

A small, soft tap breaks Geto out of his reverie. His eyes blink in surprise before his gaze lands on you and your meek, almost guilty expression.

“Do you like sweet stuff?” Your soft voice whispers and he almost laughs aloud. You’re a horrible whisperer, and you’re both extremely lucky that Yaga’s voice echoes, for no one hears you.

He ponders your question for a moment, eyes drifting around your face before they settle back on your eyes. He’s grinning as he says, “Yeah. I like sweet stuff.”

Your visage glows with hope as you turn back to your paper, beaming. Geto’s smile becomes soft.

Brownies it is.

all mine taglist : @kaelisian @tamajoyaki @unsavedandsad @friedstudentflapranch @bomjug @mygarlingelena @phoenix666stuff @mel-star636 @gloobermoober @kallykissr @aichiomei @jaerang @luv-gin @ploylulla @mrowwww @ladytamayolover @tatiishere @kasumitenbaz @autumn-slaves @someoneunknownforyou @rosemary394 @armani78 @lordbugs @decadenthumanalienranch-blog @sokivv @crushed-l1ttle-stars @ichiikoari @okayiamkassandra @cole-silas @kakuchosbff @sugasweettea @suguguro @lacm-ac @irenesolos @redskull199987 @loreleis-world-blog @aleirnebulous @asweetblueberry2 @thel0v3hashira143 @prettypei @astral-hydromancy @ran6ia IM SO SORRY FOR THOSE WHO COULDN’T BE PROPERLY TAGGED!!! there’s a shit ton of u so maybe i got some of ur users wrong or i just can’t tag u, if ur one of those ppl plsss let me know so i can fix it. this taglist long asf!!!!!!

[teddybeartoji]

mickeyyyyy *smiles too wide* i would love to hear ur thoughts about snow leopard hybrid!gojo if ur up for it,,,the words themselves just itched something in my brain

MOSS<333333333 i love ur smile btw I AM KINDA NEW TO HYBRIDS OKAY BUT THIS ONE IS JUST SOOOOOOO MMMMMMM also wait here is the twt art that made me lose it (everybody say thank u logan we love u logan for showing it to me) AAAAAAAAAAA IT'S SOOO FUCKING GOOOOOD HE LOOKS SOSO PERFCECT it suits him so well my brain is all mushy already

geto locking him out bc he purred too loudly fuuuuuuuuckkkkkkk he's so cute i want him. like he'd be sooooo clingy right?????? always trying to settle down in your lap always trying to get you to pet him to scratch his ears and he ALWAYSSS PURRS SOOOO LOUDLYY although i would never lock him out sugu is weak for that smh... i think he'd kind of like it when you played with his tail too?? usually felines don't like that too much but since it's you - he loves that shit. he likes to twirl it around your arm and his eyes go so big whenever that makes you laugh GOOD GODDDDDDDD look this is a full on ramble i hope something makes sense too i'm sorry for that i just🥴🥴🥴

oh my god he probably waits for you by the door when you come home, biting down on his tail just like in the picture?????? i'm kinda torn between whether he'd be good while you're gone or would he act up bc i mean it's satoru. the ultimate brat. so maybe he does scratch the couch a little or something? to show how upset he is over you leaving him at home:(((( you can't stay mad either bc c'mon look at him:((((((((((((((((((((((( god i wanna pet him sm

he probably likes to take care of you in his own way too right? like groom you? is that the word? he'd want to lick you, clean you, make sure you're all relaxed and feeling good after a long day. he's such a good boy:(((( he loves you:((((((((

oh and obviously he's super fucking clingy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i mean that's canon for him anyway but now even more. he always wants to drape himself in your lap, his tail curling around you like i said before too. please scratch his ears please please please:((( when you're trying to cook he's glued to your side, nuzzling into your skin - whether it's into your neck or just your back, he just wants to be close to you:(((

he also likes to nip at your skin!!!! there have been a few times where he bites down just a tad bit too hard and it drew blood but it was an accident!!!! he never wants to hurt you he felt so bad after that:(( went at sat in the corner with his tail between his legs:(((((( but you of course forgive him and coax him back to you with some belly rubs

after that he learned how to be more gentle, though. so now he often just fakes biting you just to hear you laugh or playfully scold him. when he does sink his teeth in - maybe your arm or your thigh; he always keeps eye-contact.

when you're just lazing around - reading a book, playing a video game - he's always next to you. always. maybe every once in a while he decides to take a nap, belly up, paws kind of folded and oh, he looks adorable like that. he's just a big kitty okay. btw he's always touching you. clingyclingyclingy. even when he's sleeping, he has to be touching you in some way.

SUGGESTIVE! gets upset when you come home and you have other smells on you. especially other mens' smells. maybe your co-worker hugged you goodbye or something and now his cologne sticks to your skin and satoru can't have that. he's just immediately pawing at you - begging for your attention and when you grant him that, he's jumping on you, pushing you down and licking over whereever the stench is. after he deems you clean, he just rubs himself against you - his way of marking you. you don't know that though... you just think he really missed you...... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

can hybrids go into heat............................? LOOK I'M NEW HERE OKAY I NEED TO LEARN. if they do.............. if he does............ oh boy... you need to get something to surpress those bc he will lose it. he's humping your bed, he's humping your pillow, he's sniffing your clothes. your underwear. sometimes he's pawing at your dresser, looking for more clothes but mostly his target is the dirty laundry basket....................................... everything goes when you're out....... he's gonna make a big big mess..............................................🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴 ok i think i need to stop myself here otherwise i'll really lose it........................

moss i need to hear your thoughts on this. NEEEED TO HEAR THEM. DESPERATELY NEED TO. if u know about hybrids u can teach me. i'm..... in it now......................... heheheheheh this was so fun i'm sorry it took a min love but yeah i can't wait to hear your ideas aaaaaaaaaa I LOVE YOIUUUU I HOPE YOU HAD A GOOD DAY MY BELOVED<3333

[justkennadi]

“Accidentally” sending Nerd!Armin a thirst trap🤭🥴

Notes: Sorry for slow updates but i’ve been busy with work and school is abt to start soon so it’s probably gonna get worse😭

Cw: nsfw, suggestive texting

- After a few weeks of hanging out and calling late at night of course you guys get comfortable with each other!

- School started getting serious as it was getting closer to mid terms so you and Armin stop calling each other so late.

- You kinda missed it ngl

- And so did he😭

- But you guys just stuck to the new routine of saying good night through text, maybe a “how was your day”.

- One day you just wanted to spice things up!

- Your poor smart boy had his nose in textbooks and notecards every day and you could tell he was just so stressed out from studying all day. He had such a strong work ethic he would forget to take breaks and relax his brain💔

- “Why do you study so much?? You could pass these exams with yo eyes closed!” You exclaimed.

- He just calmly responded with, “How do you think i got so smart to begin with?” And then he’d go back to read his books while you playfully rolled your eyes.

- So anyways you just wanted to cheer him up…

- Sooooo you “accidentally” send him a cute little mirror pic.

- The plan was to play it off like it was meant for your friend as you were “trying out” a new one piece you bought and wanted an opinion.

- Omfg i’m so sorry! You’d texted him. That was meant for someone else 😭😭

- Armin heard his phone go off next to him as he was starting his next group of flash cards.

- When he opened his phone to see the message he never felt his face so hot in his LIFE.

- He damn near got one of those anime nosebleeds.

- He never noticed…how fine you were…

- He was so lucky he met you. That was the moment he realized he had to have you. But not yet of course. He decided to play it off…

- Oh, it’s fine!😅 He replied and floored with a, You look nice…

- You smiled big at his response. You just knew he was blushing like crazy at this pic you sent him.

- Thank you, Min min😘❤️

- You’d spend time apologizing for interrupting

- Armin couldn’t stop stareing at your pic all night. He couldn’t think about anything else but you in that one piece. Armin never really felt this way about anyone before. You made him feel like he was going crazy.

- Yeah, he just had to make you his.

Notes: This has been in my drafts for like months 😭👋🏾 idk where to go from here right now tbh but here’s another continuation of my nerd armin series

[rexscanonwife]

'Are we allies or enemies?

This will be the death of me

All is fair in love and war but I can't fight with you anymore

This will be the death of me'

I've been wanting to talk more about Crosshair and Brea's relationship for a WHILE now, but I never really found the 'right' time (in my silly brain) I guess you can say they...know each other very well! As you can imagine it's filled with drama, romantic tension, and lots and lots of angst! 0u0 a little more info + textless illustrations under the cut ♡♡♡

Sooooo, I tend to think of this as sort of an AU! If I'm being SUPER duper canon-compliant with my self ship lore it's not really the focus, but if I play around with timeline a little bit I can come up with this. Brea is a newly knighted Jedi, having just passed the trials, and despite holding rank in the Clone Wars she's not a general because she has no battalion. HOWEVER, there is a band of misfits that have been sort of running around doing their own thing, going where needed, sort of the way she does. The idea is what if for a short time she was the BAD BATCH'S Jedi?

In this scenario, the boys are a bit reluctant to take orders from her because they don't believe they NEED a Jedi. They're not really about rules and protocol and mandates...but they soon find out that neither is Brea! She's perfect for them, she matches their energy and allows them to make decisions the way they want. They all become very close...except for Crosshair, who still doesn't trust her. He only trusts his brothers, everyone else is an outsider.

I'll probably talk about it more later, but she does something or other that proves her care for them as individuals and one thing leads to another, Crosshair and Brea are something of an item. Not a couple per se, but FAMILIAR if you know what I mean. However, it's because of Crosshair's emotional constipation that it doesn't really go further than that, and it's ALSO because of his emotional constipation that things start to change between them! And when you bring Brea's new Padawan Kepler into the mix, things go very sour very quickly.

To make a long story short, Crosshair burns his bridge with Brea long before he joins the empire and he didn't even know it. By the time he does, she's moved on and is in love with a certain other clone! All of that is more stuff to talk about another time though ^ 0 ^ if you've read all this thank you so much and ilysm! 🫶🫶🫶

Taglist♡: @me-myself-and-my-fos @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @sunstar-of-the-north @dearly-beeloved @adoredbyalatus @changeling-selfship @crushes-georg @miutonium @cherry-bomb-ships @rosieaurora @rejaytionships @sunflawyer @in-true-blue-love @tropicalgothships @little-miss-selfships @hotrodharts @cupiidzbow @frozenhi-chews @limey-self-inserts @candyheartedchy

[milfs69420]

You Belong With Me (part 1)

Natasha ran from her home country when she was 18, and has since been working at a stripclub in NYC. One night she spots a woman who seems all too familiar and turns out to be her childhood lover. While getting to know each other all over again, they discover new truths and old lies.

- Natasha Romanoff x Katya Petrova - Wordcount: 3K - Warnings: none I think - A/N: Sooooo, I wrote a fanfic about a fanfic. This stripclub AU idea has been floating around for a while, but I finally managed to get a part done. Thank you @katyaromanoffpetrova for letting me borrow your babies🫶 I hope I did them justice. If you're curious about who Katya is, check out the forgotten ghost series here!

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

The bright light above the mirror casts its hideous yellow hue down on Natasha’s face. She could hardly tell the shades of her various lipsticks apart in this setting. Some days she hardly bothered with her makeup, the dark circles around her eyes were far too visible for any concealer to hide. Today though, something told her to put in some extra effort. Who, or what, was telling her, she didn’t know. Very few things harnessed the power to make Natasha Romanoff listen, but she would never go against her intuition.

The redhead stepped out of the dressing room and into the dimly lit hallway. After sitting under that bright light for so long she had to squint her eyes to see where she was going. She hardly needed the ability to see here at all. Natasha had walked this very path so many times that she was doing it on auto-pilot by now. She knew every crease in the dirty, stained carpet. She knew exactly where to place her heel adorned feet as she made her way to the stage area.

Natasha liked dancing, loved it even. As a little girl in Russia she had danced nearly every single day. Even the extremely strict ballet teacher hadn’t been able to break her and her passion for letting the rhythm guide her body. Of course, this wasn’t the type of dancing career she had imagined for herself while growing up, but it’s what paid her bills and kept her alive.

Moving, or rather, running away to another country when she had just turned eighteen hadn’t been easy, and it certainly hadn’t been cheap. So when she met Clint, her best friend and one of the bartenders at the club, she took the opportunity she was offered and started working there as one of the dancers. Originally it had been a temporary solution, just to get her on her feet in this new life. However, she quickly realised these people were much more than just coworkers, they’d become her found family before she even realised it.

So here she was, in her high heels and the skimpy bits of fabric you could hardly call clothing. She heard the music start and let her body take over from her brain, as she made her way to the centre of the stage, complete with pole and all, she took a quick and subtle look at the crowd. At first glance it was the same as every other night, young guys who’d just gotten their paycheques, middle aged men who most likely told their wives they’re working late, and the same old men smoking cigars and eyeing her up.

But as she was about to shut her brain off and let her limbs move themselves, she spotted a woman. All alone and mysterious in the darkest corner of the club, with what looked like a martini in her hand. Thanks to the darkness, Natasha couldn’t make out any clear features. All she could see was dark hair, seemingly brown but she wasn’t certain. And all that she felt was an overwhelming amount of familiarity, like she hadn’t only seen this woman before, but like she knew her. Natasha could not see the woman’s eyes in the darkness, but she knew they were focused on her.

Whether she meant to or not, Natasha’s dance was focused on this woman now. If she looked into the crowd at all, she looked at her. She put some extra effort and seductiveness into her movements, and she enjoyed doing it. Dancing for men whose attention she hardly wanted in the first place was just a job, and not one she was always happy to do. But this woman brought out her true passion for dancing, motivated her to truly let the rhythm guide her and just enjoy the moment.

When the redhead finished her dance, she left the stage almost immediately and made her way towards that dark corner. The crowd didn’t let her through nearly as fast as she wanted, and she was disappointed to find the seat empty when she finally got there. If this had been any random person, Natasha would’ve assumed they got flustered by just being in the club and ran. However, something told her that wasn’t the case here. Her mood now having been ruined by not even catching a glimpse of the woman, she didn’t feel the need to stick around.

She went to the backstage area, walked that barely lit hallway again until she reached the door to the stairs. She was one of three people living above the club. Her, Clint and Maria each had their own spaces and enough privacy to not be bothered by each other, they did however share a kitchen together. The rent was incredibly cheap due to their employment and it was a nice spot in the city as well. Unbeknownst to their boss, Fury, Natasha had a dark haired, four legged roommate upstairs.

She found Liho in the street when she was still a kitten. She was looking about as miserable and hopeless as the redhead was feeling at the time, so the only logical option was obviously to take her home. Part of Natasha had been afraid that the cat would abandon her over time, but Liho seemed better than the humans who’d let the woman down time and time again.

That night, sleep did not come easy to Natasha. She overanalysed everything she saw, or didn’t see of the mysterious woman. For some unknown reason, she was a hundred percent sure that she knew this person. When or how they met, she didn’t know, but she was certain that they had.

………

Every night that she was on stage, Natasha looked at that corner, hoping to see the person who’d been keeping her up for weeks now. She’d almost lost hope that she would see her again at all, until today. As the redhead went through her entry routine on stage, she spotted that mystery person in the corner. Before she could stop it, the slightest smirk appeared on her face.

You see, Natasha had spent her sleepless nights coming up with a plan to prevent this woman from escaping again before she could truly see her. So she made her way to the front of the stage, which had stairs connected to it, and she went into the audience. Now obviously she couldn’t just walk straight to the corner, so as she moved through the various seating arrangements, she stopped a few times. She danced at some tables and gave some extra attention to men who seemed well off enough to throw her some extra dollar bills, until she finally approached that corner.

The lighting in the club focused on Natasha, and therefore started lighting up this usually dark area. As she moved closer, the redhead could see the woman more clearly by the second. The first thing that got her attention wasn’t the clothing that she was wearing, but rather the skin left exposed by it. Tattoos that Natasha couldn’t make out quite clear enough yet, decorated smooth skin as far as she could see. She found herself imagining how many more of those she could find underneath the black slacks and white dress shirt combination. The black blazer had been hung over the chair, and her white sleeves had been rolled up. As her eyes made their way upwards, she didn’t fail to notice the amount of buttons that had been undone on the shirt, before finally getting a look at the woman’s face

Brown, shoulder length hair surrounded what may just be the most gorgeous face she’d seen in a long time, if not her whole life. Piercing blue eyes had locked onto her green ones as soon as she’d left the stage, and hadn’t looked away since. Now, Natasha was by no means shy or introverted, but she found a surprising amount of difficulty just to hold eye contact. The woman however, seemed to radiate nothing but confidence.

Where most, if not all, men would be eyeing her up like a piece of meat by now, she found what seemed an awful lot like admiration in the brunette’s eyes. She was definitely staring at Natasha, but in an oddly respectful manner. There wasn’t just lust in her eyes, she seemed enticed by the way the redhead moved her body. The way this woman was looking at her made Natasha feel good. It made her feel sexy in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time, and it filled her with newfound confidence.

Since the brunette was situated in a single chair and not in one of the booths they had in the club, Natasha took the opportunity to circle around her before settling in front of the chair. As the redhead moved her body to the music, the woman uncrossed and opened up her legs in a swift, but elegant, movement. Natasha took this as an invite to get closer, and as she did so she bent over just enough for her mouth to end up near this woman’s ear.

“Are you planning on running away again, darling?”

As she moved back to stand up straight again, she held eye contact with the brunette and found a smirk adorning that mesmerising face. Natasha could’ve, and had, imagined many different responses to her question. She’d thought about it far more than she should have probably. However, what came out of the woman’s mouth was far from anything she had expected.

“I think I’ll stay this time, I’ve missed seeing your face, Natalia.”

Shock and confusion overtook the redhead, and it was a good thing her performance time had ended at this moment. The spotlight went out as she made one last gesture to the crowd before turning around to face the woman again, what she found was that same smirk still on her face. Now though, Natasha didn’t think about how attractive that face was, she only focused on how the hell this person knew a name she had left behind all those years ago.

“How do you know that?” Was the first of many questions she wanted to ask, but for now it was the most important one. She recognised the features of the brunette’s face, but had a feeling that the time they knew each other was far in the past. What was starting to get to her though, was the smugness all over the face opposite of her. She seemed to know nothing about the person in front of her, who seemed to know a whole lot about Natasha.

“You really don’t remember me, do you?” The brunette started to get on her nerves now, Natasha wasn’t in the mood for any of these games, she wanted answers right now. “Am I supposed to recognise you? You seem to think you’re quite memorable.” At that, the woman smiled, not a smirk, no smug looks, a genuine smile.

“I thought people always remembered their first kiss.”

Now seemed like a great moment for Natasha to sit down in the chair opposite of the brunette, mainly because the shock of this all gave her some difficulty with standing up straight. “Katariina?” She couldn’t find the right words to say, so instead opted for just her name. She hadn’t seen that gorgeous face since they were both teenagers, so it made sense she didn’t recognise her right away, so many years later. Now that she knew though, she couldn’t stop the flood of memories that came over her.

Natasha had moved around Russia far more than she would’ve liked when she was a kid. Her mother had passed away when she was a baby, and her father just left her on the doorstep of the nearest orphanage. Little Natasha was far too rebellious for her own good, and this resulted in being kicked out of foster homes time after time again. The longest she ever lasted was a little over a year, and it wasn’t the family she was staying with that got her through that time. No, it was that beautiful face she found looking back at her now.

“It’s just Katya now actually, but good to know you remember, Natalia.” And remember, she did. She recalled the first time that she saw Katya, her foster parents quickly tugged her the other way and told her not to play with the girl, to never even go near the huge house on the other side of the street. But something about her had already intrigued Natasha, even if she had only seen her for just a second. From that moment on, all that she wanted to do was get to know this girl. As she did so, she found that she craved to be much closer than friends were supposed to be. She wanted to know her in far more intimate ways than society deemed acceptable for them.

“It’s probably my hair. It’s not blonde anymore” Natasha looked at her, took her time to take in this new appearance. “I can see that, the ink wasn’t there either.” Now it was Katya’s turn, to take in her own appearance. Smiling, she looked back at the redhead. “I suppose you, of all people, would’ve known about any ink on my skin.” At that, Natasha couldn’t help but blush. Memories of their secret meet ups filled her head. Some nights had been spent exploring the rural areas around their town, where nobody would find them. Other nights, they explored each other instead.

While they were both enjoying this seemingly light-hearted conversation, Natasha had questions to ask. “So I guess it’s not a coincidence that you found me, is it?” Katya smiled at her now, no longer hiding behind a facade of smugness and false confidence, powerful as she was, she’d been terrified of how the redhead could’ve reacted. “No it’s not, though I’ve got to give you credit where it’s due. You didn’t make it easy to track you down.”

“So how did you manage to find me anyway?” Natasha had changed her whole identity, finding her was supposed to be nearly impossible. “I have my ways.” Is all that the brunette gave her.

“Still being mysterious, I see. Nice to know you didn’t change too much.” She hadn’t meant to let that out as angrily as it did, but this was a lot to handle.

“I couldn’t afford to tell you anything back then, it would’ve put both of our lives at risk, Natalia.”

“And you still can’t tell me now?” For some reason, Natasha didn’t feel the need to correct the brunette when she used her old name. She was sure that Katya knew her new identity anyway, but simply chose not to acknowledge it. Plus, she didn’t mind the way her name sounded, rolling off of her childhood lover’s tongue.

“I could, and I might, but this isn’t the time or place. I’m sure you understand that, don’t you?”

“So when and where do I have to be, to get some answers out of you?” Again, Katya smiled at her, and this time Natasha couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous she looked as she did so. It seemed as if that magical charm that had intrigued her when they were teens, was still there all these years later.

“You seem quite eager to spend more time with me milaya(милая).” To hear that term of endearment coming from the brunette, seemed to bring back far more than just memories. Natasha felt as if her stomach did a backflip as soon as the word reached her ears. It shouldn’t be that easy, for Katya to make her feel anything at all after all this time. But neither of them could deny that they had a special connection, one that ran far deeper than just childhood love.

“I’m just eager to know how you found me, and why you wanted to in the first place.”

Katya just looked at her, a more serious expression on her face now. She seemed to be taking in every detail of Natasha’s appearance, studying her so attentively that the redhead started feeling shy under her gaze. Before she realised what was happening, Katya started getting up. She put on her jacket and Natasha would never admit how much she hated seeing all that skin being covered up. Right as the brunette was about to walk away, she turned around one last time.

“Saturday night, nine PM, be ready and wait outside. I’ll have a car pick you up.”

With that, Katya walked towards the exit, leaving Natasha to gather her thoughts as she made her way upstairs. The rest of the night was spent thinking about Katya, and that damn smile of hers. The brunette was the only person she’d met in their home country, who didn’t hurt her. The only person who made her feel like life may not be all that bad when you have someone to share it with. Leaving that town had been one of the most painful things she’d experienced, and she’s been through a lot. Being forced to leave the only person she had truly loved and felt connected to up until then had felt like someone ripped apart her heart. The worst part was that she wasn’t given a reason, her foster parents seemed to have decided overnight not to want her anymore.

She’d since learned to live with all the abandonment she’s had to go through, and she’s worked on becoming a better person ever since she left her home country. While she was well aware that this was much too early to think about having Katya in her life at all, she couldn’t help but feel excited at the prospect of getting to know her again.

That night, Natasha went to sleep feeling hopeful. Maybe she would’t end up alone, doing this job, after all.

[justmystyles]

Now You're In My Life - Part 3

part 1

part 2

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 1.8k (it's a shorty, but I promise the next one won't be)

summary: a chance meeting at a diner turns your world upside-down.

warnings: some curse words, but other than that it's tame.

a/n: i am absolutely blown away by the reception i've received over the last couple of days. i just had these stories in my brain that i wanted to write down to get out of my system, i never in a million years thought anyone would read them, let alone actually like them. i'm so thankful for all of the likes, comments, reblogs, lurkers. thank you thank you thank you! 🖤

i say it's a plus size reader, while i don't focus a lot on that aspect (because your size should not define you), it will come up, so i just wanted to be upfront about it.

tag list: @bethanysnow @cute-as-ducks420 @gem1712 @golden-hoax @groovychaosavenue @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @youknowwhaaat

The day after your night with Harry, you sat at your desk willing your eyes to stay open as you reviewed the end of month report. By the time you got home, and the adrenaline of the evening had worn off, you only really got about an hour and a half of sleep. You figure you probably should have called out, but you had been holding onto your PTO so that you could end the year with two months of short weeks. 

You were startled by a soft knock at your cubicle wall. You turned to find one of your coworkers, hiding half of his body and displaying a suspicious smile on his face. “Hi Y/N.” 

“No way that’s a good greeting,” you reply cautiously. “What’s wrong?” 

“You always think the worst of us,” he chuckled. “I’m just here to hand off the delivery that just came for you.” He stepped to his left, revealing an elaborate flower arrangement. 

Your eyes went wide and you reached out to take the vase, pulling it up to your face to inhale the scent of fresh sunflowers, orange roses, safari sunset, and yellow solidago. The perfect combination of fall colors. 

“You guys got me flowers?” You ask. Sure, you worked with some great guys, but they were typical mid-forties construction guys, you didn’t think it would ever cross their minds to get you flowers. Especially for no reason.

“Not us.” Your coworker shrugged before returning to his desk. 

Even more confused than before, you place the flowers down on your desk, and remove the attached card. Pulling it from the envelope, her heart leapt as she read over the words. 

Thank you for last night. Especially that last bit.

-H

PS - This should also cover your train ride. ;)

They were from Harry. He was thanking you for kissing him. 

That’s it, you clearly never made it into work, you’re still at home in your bed. This has to be a dream. 

You sat back down, and reached for your phone on the other side of the desk. You didn’t want to bother him, but it would be polite to thank him for the flowers, right? Just one text, that’s not too much of a bother. He can read it when he has a moment and respond whenever he wants. If he wants. You take a deep breath, building up the courage, and quickly open up your message app, typing Harry’s name into a new message. 

Thank you sooooo much for the flowers. Completely unnecessary, but very much appreciated. :) 

Before you even had a chance to lock your phone, a FaceTime call from Harry lit up the screen. Your eyes went wide, you weren’t even really expecting a reply text, let alone a FaceTime. 

You swipe to answer, and before you know it, you’re staring at Harry who’s looking into his phone with that wide, dimpled grin. 

“Harry, you really didn’t have to do this.” 

“I know, but I wanted to. Do you like them?”

“They’re beautiful. Really.” 

“Well, let’s see them then.”

You swap the camera view, the flowers coming onto the screen. You see Harry’s brow furrow and his head shake in disapproval. 

“No no no, this won’t do at all. I’m going to have to let you go. I’ve got to give that florist a piece of my mind.” 

“What?! Why? They’re so beautiful!” 

“I made it very clear to them that I wanted the flowers to be as beautiful as you are. These aren’t even close.” 

Your heart melts immediately, but you’re quickly snapped out of it by the sarcastic ‘awws’ and kissy noises from the cubicles around you. Everyone was listening to your call. You were mortified. 

“Y/N, can you flip the camera back around, please?” Harry’s voice rings out over the taunting of your coworkers. You quickly comply, and he starts to chuckle. “There’s that adorable blush. I wish I were there to pinch those cheeks.” 

You cover your eyes with your free hand before rushing into a nearby conference room for some privacy. You take a seat at the table, placing your elbow down and burying your face in your hand. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” Harry says before taking a brief pause. “Well, maybe a little.” He chuckles. “But more than that, I wanted to make sure you know that last night meant a lot to me.” 

His words pull you from your spiral of embarrassment, you stay silent for a moment, making sure you heard him correctly before uncovering your face. “Really?” You ask tentatively. Harry nods his head with a sweet smile. “Me too.” 

“Yeah? Excellent! I’d really like to see you again, would you like that?” 

“Yeah, I really would.” 

“Great, New York City isn’t that far from you, right?” 

“No, it’s a few hours. Not a bad ride, I’ve done it a few times.” 

“Would you like to do it this weekend? I’m at Madison Square Garden Saturday and Sunday, I would really like you to come.” 

Your smile widens at the thought of spending the weekend with Harry. “Yeah, that sounds really great. I would love to.” 

“Great! Can I book anything for you? Travel? Hotel?” 

“No Harry, I’ve got it. I’ll book everything and let you know my itinerary.”

Harry smiles, and you can see the excitement in his eyes, even through the phone screen. “I can’t wait. Oh! And don’t forget your costumes!” 

“Costumes?” 

“Yeah, it’s Harryween! You’ll need to have costumes for the shows.” 

“Harry… ween?” You question.

“Yeah, it’s Halloween, and my name is Harr--”

“No no no, I get it,” You interrupt him, waving your hand at the camera. “I just… it’s cute.” You smile. 

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. I’m a sucker for a good pun.” 

You see a sparkle in Harry’s eyes, and his dimples re-appear. “I knew I liked you, Y/N.” He joked. “The costumes don’t have to be too elaborate or anything, you can just reuse one of your old ones.” 

Your chuckle at his suggestion. “I don’t think that’s going to work, I haven’t had a Halloween costume since I was like twelve.”

Harry’s jaw dropped at your confession. “You don’t go out on Halloween? No parties or anything.” 

You shrug in response. “Never get invited anywhere.” You pause for a moment, suddenly remembering the one time you actually did get invited to a Halloween party. As a plus one. You were dumped two days before the party, and it was too late to return the costume, so you threw it in one of your basement storage bins. “Actually, I may have something.” 

Harry could see the sadness in your eyes as you recalled the memory. He hated the sight, and silently swore to himself that he’d do everything in his power to make sure you never made that face again. 

“Perfect. I’m sure you’ll look stunning in whatever it is.”

You grin through your blush, a knock at the door brings you back to the present. “Well, I uh… I should get back to work. I’ll see you this weekend.”

Definitely. And I’ll be texting and calling you well before that. You don’t really think I’m just going to go three days without talking to you, do you?”

“I mean, you went all those years without talking to me before we met.” You shrugged. 

“Then I guess we’re going to have to talk all that much more to make up for lost time.” The sincerity in his voice makes your heart race. “I’ll talk to you soon, Y/N.” 

“Bye, Harry.” You smile before ending the call and returning to your desk. 

When Harry said you had to make up for lost time, you didn’t think he meant it literally. But he would text you often throughout the day. He would let you know what he was up to, ask you what you were doing and tell you how excited he was to see you this weekend. 

He had a show Wednesday night, and he had been texting you right up until the last moment before he went onstage. He asked if he could call you after the show, you told him of course. You figured it would be around eleven or so, which was pretty late for you, but you’d just go to bed and leave your ringer on. The sound of the phone would wake you up, and you could talk to Harry and hear all about the show before going to bed properly. 

The plan worked… mostly. 

The sound of your phone woke you from your slumber. Still half asleep, you reach over to your nightstand, swiping to answer the call. “Harry?” You say groggily. 

“Y/N? I can’t see you.” 

See?! It’s a phone call, what is he talking about? You pull the phone from your ear and look at the screen, you sit up with a jolt when you see Harry’s face on the other end.

It wasn’t a phone call, it was a FaceTime. He was on your screen, hair perfectly tousled from performing onstage. He looked amazing. You were in bed, hair in a sloppy topknot, no makeup, a couple of pimple patches, probably some eye crusties. And Harry wanted to see you. 

“I… uh… I thought you were going to call?” 

“I was, but I missed your face. I wanted to see you.” 

Harry wanted to see you. Not if he knew the horror show that was waiting for him on the other side of that phone. “That’s really sweet Harry, but I wasn’t expecting to see you. I don’t have any makeup on, I’m all gross and night face-y” 

“Turn on the light, darling. Let me see you.” 

Darling. He called you darling. Nothing that had happened over the past three days felt real. 

How could you say no now? “Alright, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You sigh and reluctantly lean across your nightstand, turning on your lamp. You look into the phone, Harry’s eyes soften when he finally sees you. A look of adoration spread across his face. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

“Harry…”

“I’m serious. Thank you for being vulnerable with me.” He had seen it the night you met, but your insecurities and difficulties letting people in became even more obvious to him the more he spoke with you. He wanted nothing more than to be trusted with your heart. He wanted to know everything about you; the good, the bad, he wanted you to let him in, and he was willing to take as much time as you needed. 

You talked for a few minutes, getting a recap of his show, talking about your schedules for the next day. But Harry could see you were tired, he didn’t want to keep you up too long. You said your goodnights, and he blew you a kiss through the phone. You smiled shyly and ended the call, placing your phone back down, turning off the light, and snuggling into your blankets. You drifted off, replaying your conversation in your head. 

Especially the part where he called you darling. 

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Kinktober Day 12: Formal Wear

pairing: steven grant x afab!reader (but reader wears a dress)

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, thigh riding, semi public sexy things

wc: 807

an: for my sweet sweet @lesbianhotch, your brain was sooooo big choosing this prompt + character. love uuu 🥰

kinktober masterlist | moonknight masterlist

“I look ridiculous—downright silly. Why are the pants so…tight?” He frowns as he stares in the mirror, adjusting his tie for the thousandth time.

“Because you have a tight ass and this makes it look even better.”

Steven blushes, his mouth turning up into a shy smile before he quickly frowns again. “Shut up, Jake.”

“What’d he say?”

“That if I’m gonna complain while getting compliments from you then I should let him have the body.”

You snort, rolling your eyes playfully as you come up behind him, resting your hands on his hips and squeezing. “You look so very handsome.”

“We’re going to this gala to work, dove,” He reminds you.

“We can’t look good while doing it?”

“These aren’t very functional.”

“And my dress is?” You challenge, raising a brow.

“You’ve got a point there,” He turns around, eyes drinking you in. The dress plays off the color of your eyes, the smoothness of your skin— he’s enraptured with you. “You’re so beautiful,” He whispers.

“You’re one to talk,” You say, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth, one he readily returns. “We should go, don’t want to be late.”

The two of you are just on time to the gala, finding your seats easily. Both of you keep your eyes peeled for the latest target Khonshu has alerted them too. You’re antsy, vigilant but your hand stays on Steven’s thigh, loving the way the fabric of his slacks feels around him.

“You’re distracting me,” He murmurs into your ear after a while.

You don’t look at him, but lean further into him, allowing his mouth to brush the shell of your ear. “Distracting you how?”

“You’ve already told me how delicious you think I look, and now you won’t take your hands off me. How am I meant to focus, love?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question. You smell so good,” You whisper back, eyes still scanning the crowds.

The gala is nearly over and there’s been no sign of the guy the two of you are looking for. It’s a bust. But, this night doesn’t have to go completely to waste— at least that’s what Steven is thinking when he skates his hand down your back and around the swell of your hip.

“Come with me.”

“But we haven't—“

“He’s obviously not coming. Old bird’s information was baseless. Are we surprised?” He teases, rising to his feet and bringing you with him.

“He’s going to annoy you for days for that one,” You say through a laugh, allowing him to lead you into the hallway.

“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before, dove,” Steven murmurs distractedly, guiding you down the hall.

After a short while, he finds a door labeled janitor’s closet, and stuffs you both into it. He locks the door before pressing you against the wall, practically sealing his mouth to yours.

You hum into his mouth, kissing him back eagerly. Your hands roam him, enjoying the quality of his suit jacket, the silkiness of his shirt. Something about this suit makes touching him even more intoxicating.

“Needy for me, are we? Have you been thinking about this since we left?” He wonders, kissing down the slope of your neck.

“Since you put on the suit,” You admit shyly.

“Poor dear. I bet you’re so wet, so achy,” He says, lifting you by your hips and sitting you down on his thigh.

“Steven,” You gasp, a hand tangling into his hair as he rocks your hips down against his thigh.

“I know darling, feels good doesn’t it?”

“Feels so good.”

He looks down at you with a hungry gaze, eyes hot, “Think you can cum for me just like this? Cum on my trousers?”

“Yeah, yeah I can,” You breathe, grinding down more firmly against him. The muscle of his thigh is taut as he presses up against the seam of your cunt, stimulating your clit.

“You’re so warm, I can feel you.”

You whimper against him, leaning in to capture his mouth once more as your hips move frantically. You chase and chase and chase after your orgasm, on the hunt after quelling your desire for him all night. He watches you with wonder, eyes tracing over the swell of your lips and the flutter of your lashes. Your eyes squeeze shut when you cum, and he leans in to quiet the loud moan that leaves you with a kiss that makes you breathless.

“Are you alright?” He asks shyly, thinking of all the filthy things he’s just whispered in your ear.

“I’m perfect,” You huff. “You’re trying to kill me with orgasms. Publicly I might add.”

The grin that spreads across his face makes it clear he feels no remorse, “Hmm, well let’s get you home so I can l make you cum like that again. Come along, dove.”

oscar: @honeybrowne, @pastanoodles11, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @stevengrcnt, @greg-montgomery, @lesbianhotch, @mccn-bcys, @marc-spectorr, @whatthefishh, @flightlessangelwings, @silversprings-mp3, @simpforbritgents, @maisondenachtai

[cowpokeomens]

Good morning I saw this post and it rotted all three of my remaining brain cells because

Word gets around to you that sweet Matty is a virgin, and by no means are you one to take that lightly! But :-/ you know as well as I do about his MCE, and you just wanna take the horse for a ride 😔🫶 and he’s been flirting with you for months now in his own weird passive-aggressive mean way! So it’s not like your feelings aren’t reciprocated! It’s fine! You’re fine! Nothing morally corrupt to see here! So yeah just imagine your shorts get shorter as the months get warmer :-/ you ditch the hoodies for crop tops, then you ditch those for bralettes because “it’s sooooo hot Matty what the hell is up with this weather??” And you know you’re getting under his skin with the way his hands linger on you, at the small of your back, direct skin to skin, as he guides you in front of him somewhere busy; the way his eyes are absolutely lingering on your legs in your tiny little shorts :-/ you laugh at his jokes with your chest because you know it makes your tits bounce :-/ you press your whole body against him in a way that never mattered when you wore hoodies and sweatpants, but makes him shove you off now with pink cheeks. It all comes to a head when you’re getting ready to go out with some gal pals. He’s hanging out at your place while you get ready; once you’re done with your makeup and changed into your clothes, you do a little twirl to show him your outfit- which is absolutely lingerie and a mini skirt :-/ your fishnets have a few suggestive holes ripped in them, the boots you wear elongate your legs without having you teetering on a heel precariously :-/ Matt sighs, which makes you genuinely frown. You ask “What is it, Matty?” To which he responds “I dunno, it seems like you’re dressing really… provocative lately.” And you try not to focus on how that hurts because he is right after all!!! And you’re gonna respond when he mumbles “it’s distracting.” And oop! Wrong thing to say Matty! Because you drop your eyelashes and walk over to him slowly, sitting so close to him you’re practically on his lap. “Distracting? How?” It sounds innocent enough, right? No ulterior motives here! And his cheeks are sooooo pink omg baby is soooo flustered by your proximity and your question and your everything. But he’s nothing if not honest! So he says “it’s just, like, I’m straight edge, right? So the idea is that you avoid…. Promiscuous sex. But like-“ he pauses and you nod to encourage him, sensing something big is coming, “I’m just not sure what constitutes as ‘promiscuous’ if that makes sense? Like do you have to be married? Do you just have to really care about the other person? What are the parameters?” And you can’t help but tuck a little piece of hair behind his ear, thinking before you respond. “I think,” you begin slowly, “that sex is a natural part of being alive. It’s fine if you don’t want to have it, it’s fine if you do what to have it. But it seems unfair for some straight-edge higher being to decide what the ‘healthy’ limit looks like, because that limit will be different for everyone.” And his wee shoulders relax a bit which makes you fight back the urge to beam with pride but then he says “I’ve never- I haven’t like, done it before. What if I’m not good? What if no one wants to stick around because I suck at it?” And your little heart just breaks because :-( Matty :-( so you tell him that anyone who only cares about sex obviously has different priorities and isn’t worth keeping around! And then you can’t fight the urge to say “but. If you want to practice. I’m always here for you < 3” hehehehehehe and his eyes get all wide bc?? You’re so hot?? And he just admitted he’s a virgin?? And you offered to fuck him??? And maybe :-/ maybe you offer to take some of the edge off for him :-// maybe he just needs to relax :-/// and he seems perfectly willing to hear you out so you slide onto to floor between his knees and his breath hitches as you start to palm at him where he’s absolutely chubbed up and you were right- Monster Cock Energy! Yippee!

Anyways! You pull his cock out and it’s so pretty and pink and you want it in your mouth so you flutter your eyelashes and ask if you can suck on it and he stares at you open-mouthed for a minute before saying “it doesn’t. It doesn’t count, right? Because I’m not fucking you. So it doesn’t count.” And you nod because that’s what he needs right now and reassure him that no, it doesn’t count, Matty :-) what you don’t say virginity is a social construct that you can hit reset on whenever you want bc it’s not real but that’s a conversation for another time bc right now Matt’s cock is in your mouth and it’s hot and heavy on your tongue and you think he might actually pull a muscle with how hard he tenses up :-/ he’s soooo vocal ugh never learned that men are supposed to be stoic and silent so he’s moaning so so so prettily and clawing at the cushion underneath him as you take him deeper and deeper and when he hits the back of your throat he’s gargling out shit like “holy fuck, oh my god, you’re perfect, you’re so hot and perfect and I’ve thought about this for weeks now-“ and you’d be bashful if you hadn’t been so intentional in your seduction! Oops! He’d manage to get a hand into your hair and it’s over from there, once he gets a taste of fucking your mouth he’ll never recover I fear! It’s wet and messy and there’s lipstick all over your face and mascara running down your cheeks and his thrusts are erratic and fast until he finally cums with a loud, breathy moan, pulling you down to the base and keeping you there for a solid 10 seconds as he shakes through his orgasm :-/ doesn’t hesitate to pull you right into his lap to kiss you deeply, smearing cum and lipstick all over himself now too :-/ anyways that’s all I just wanted to share thanks for letting me have the conch bye!

[forever-fixating]

RWRB Appreciation Month Bingo: Underrated Moment

For @rwrbsource and @rwrbmovie's RWRB Appreciation Month Bingo: Underrated Moment

Underrated Moment: Alex's immediate "no" when Zahra asked him if it would make any difference if he was asked to not see Henry again

Author's Note: The absolute lack of hesitation in Alex's voice when he answered that question has burrowed into my brain. It's one of my favorite moments. Sure, boys, you're sooooo great at doing casual! There's a little moment inspired by a comment convo I had with @onthewaytosomewhere who made an astute observation about the way Ellen and Zahra talk to Alex, a grown man. Enjoy this little bit of fluff.

As soon as the door slammed shut behind Zahra, Alex and Henry deflated like a couple of balloons. Alex, his mind starting to spiral, looked at his...nope, not ready for that either, Henry and snickered half-heartedly, "Well, now I have a new name to save you under in my phone."

"You're an idiot," Henry said, shaking his head.

They began moving about the room and picking up discarded pieces of clothing. Alex took off his pants to slip on his boxers, not interested in freeballing with a pissed-off Zahra while talking with the press. Fuck, he was going to have to tell his mom about Henry. His bisexuality felt secondary. Not that it wasn't important, but he knew his mom would be okay with that part. But him sleeping with, to borrow Zahra's words, "the heir to the British throne?" During an election year? That part might be a bit harder for her to swallow.

While they got dressed in silence, Alex kept glancing at Henry. His expression was neutral, but that little corner of his mouth told Alex that the blonde's mind was anything but that. Henry sat on the end of the bed, tying his dress shoes. Alex nudged him with his besocked foot and said, "Hey, it's gonna be okay. Don't sweat Zahra. She's all bark, no bite."

Henry smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Alex knelt in front of him and took his hands. Rubbing his thumbs over those smooth knuckles, he said, "Talk to me, baby."

Henry bit his lip, a flash of white sinking into that rosy flesh, before he mumbled, "Did you mean it?"

Alex frowned. "Mean what?"

"When you..." Henry made a noise, a choked little something that made Alex want to comfort him. His eyes were red when he said, "When Zahra asked if it would make a difference if she told you not to see me again...you said no. Did you mean it?"

Oh. Alex stood and sat down next to his transatlantic booty call? sometime lover?, their hands still linked. In that moment, the answer seemed so obvious. While he respected Zahra, he was a grown man now, not a teenager. This was his life and his relationship. If it went down in flames or turned into something more solid, it would be Alex's choice. His mother nor her chief of staff would not make that decision for him.

Alex cupped Henry's cheek and said, "I did."

Alex huffed a laugh when Henry pulled him into a desperate kiss. Henry's hands in his hair and on the small of his back, the little choked moan when Alex parted those plush lips with his tongue...whatever this was, Alex would do anything to keep it.

Unfortunately, even though Alex wanted nothing more than to strip himself and Henry naked for one last tumble in the sheets, he wouldn't put it past Zahra to have a timer set on her phone. He broke their kiss and rubbed his thumb over Henry's spit-slick lips.

"Call me when you get home?"

"I will."

A/N- It's been a hot second since I read the book, but I think at this point, the boys were still operating under the delusion that what they had was casual but mutually exclusive. Silly lads.

Check out this post and join the fun in celebrating the one-year anniversary of our little romcom that could being released!

[blushingbubbles]

Take some ginger and peel the skin off. You should use a spoon instead of a knife coz you're too dumb to handle sharp tools. Don't confuse fork with spoon. Fork has pointy ends. Spoon has a curved, oval shaped bowl. Just to confirm, jab your nipples with both. 10 times each side. Whatever doesn't cause sharp pain is the spoon. Do you have the spoon now? You're not confused anymore, right, stupid cock sleeve? You should show me and confirm, just in case.

Now that you have the spoon in one hand, grab the ginger in the other hand and start scraping. Before that, are you holding the spoon correctly? You should hold the handle and scrape with the tip. Handle is that flat, long thingy. Hold that. And now scrape the skin off.

Is the skin off? Are you sure? Did you check all the sides? Yes? Good. Now wash it thoroughly. You have to go to the sink, turn the tap on and hold the ginger under the water and rub it thoroughly. Don't let your scatter brain distract you. I hope you don't forget about the ginger and start playing with the stream of water like a silly little girl. Good so far, tits-for-brains? Good.

Now what you must do is, shove that ginger up your cunt. Cunt is that useless hole between your legs. No not the one between your ass cheeks, silly! We will get to that later. Cunt is the hole in the front that drips constantly and makes those sticky juices you like to taste so much.

Now go about your day. Have work calls, run your errands, go out with your friends or sit on the couch, have a casual chat with your friend or someone or whatever. All while your cunt is burning and makes you wanna scream and cry.

Did you understand everything? Are you clear about what you must do?

I know it's a lot of big words for a brainless piss whore like you. Repeat the task so I know you got it right.

m too dum to handle sharp tools sir pokedmy tits with the fork!!!how dummy of me!!!

used the spoon to scrape the skin offf andthen i washed it in the sink umm and i put the ginger inmy cunt.is been in there for a few minutes andis burning sooooo gooooooddd m cunt is drippinggggg hehehe thankk uuu Sir mmm loveee havinga drippy cunt

it uhmmm burns a lil bit but it burns so so nicely Sir thankk u for letting me put raw ginger up my front fuckhole <3

[sofasoap]

Love at first sight

Pairing: Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra x F!reader ( aka Mini MacTavish)

Summary: Has spring finally came for Rudy? Part I, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,Part 6,Epilogue

Warning: none apart from Scottish swear words? T-M rating.

Rudy's turn to get some Mini love!!! :) like Gaz, he is sooooo underrated.

My usual thanking @saltofmercury, mother of Mini, for lending me the character :) Please go and check out her fics!

“masterlist” for Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra thinks he is in love as soon as his eyes land on you.

You look so out of place, a beauty that doesn’t belong in this chaos and bloodshed. Your charming smile as you introduce yourself to the head of the medical team, the little frown as you concentrate and take in whatever information they were updating you.

The cute quizzical look and tilt of your head, repeating whatever words the soldier was trying to tell you.

Your face was beaming with joy as soon as you saw the Task Force 141 men exiting the helicopter,  you must be close with them, he thought. Running straight to the men and greeting each of them with a hug, his heart dropped when he saw the special greeting you gave to Sergeant Soap. Lifting you up with a bear hug, Soap laughed and gave you kisses on the cheek as you hit his shoulder playfully. Disappointment hit hard. You belong to Soap, he realised. You have already been spoken for. 

“... Rudy… Rudy, are you listening??”   Alejandro’s question brought his attention back. “Sorry brother, I was distracted.” 

Alejandro gave Rudy a pointed look. “It’s unlike you being distracted so easily.” He followed Rudy’s sight as he subconsciously turned his attention back to you again. Raising his eyebrow when he realise who Rudy was admiring,

“Ah, I see you have spotted Task Force 141’s new medic. Dr. MacTavish!” Alejandro called out to you. OH gosh, you and Soap are married too? Rudy felt even more ashamed lusting over his fellow brother in arm’s wife. 

“Colonel Vargas.” You nodded your head after jogging over to greet the man. 

“Doctor. Long time no see. I hope you are well.” Turn to slap Rudy on the back, pushing him forward, “May I introduce you to my second in command, Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra. He was away on a mission last time when you arrived last.” Alejandro flashed Rudy a scheming smile as he introduced him. 

Rudy was confused. Why is Alejandro encouraging him? Extending his hand to you while mumbling a greeting. You held out your hand to return the shake with a shy smile as you gave out your name.

“Just call me Mini. Dr MacTavish sounds stiff and stuffy. Plus,” pointing with your thumb, towards the Task force 141 men, “I feel like I already know you. My brother and the boys told me stories of your bravery trying to break Colonel out of captivity.” 

Brother? You are sister to one of the men? Clogs turning in his brain. Can’t be Ghost, his family all died.  Price? More like father and daughter.. Gaz… maybe? That leaves…. 

“Sergeant Soap is your brother?” The lightbulb suddenly lit. 

Grinning wide, “Luckily we don’t look alike eh? I am obviously the better looking one. That bampot is indeed my brother." Oh, you have a quirky sense of humour too. He likes that. “ I CAN HEAR YOU CALLING ME NAME HERE MINI!!” Soap yelled. 

“Haud yer wheesht Johnny!!” You retorted. Ok. Now he can definitely hear the resemblance. 

“Anyway, nice to meet you Sergeant Major. I am sure we will see each other more in the future.” Giving him a wave, you turned back to join the 141 men.

“So, going to ask her for the number?”

“ I don’t know what you are talking about.” Rudy turns his head, blushing. 

Alejandro shakes his head. It’s going to be a long road ahead.