#but today was a good day! a great day! and now i feel terrible for no apparent reason

[skrunksthatwunk]

peak dash tonight but i gtg do like. something productive

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

I was actually having a pretty good day until just now :/

[xifere]

xifere presents… kenji sato x gn!reader

content warnings… 18+, not proofread, sub!kenji sato, edging, solo masturbation, pet names, praise kink, might be a lil ooc, kenji can’t be discreet over the phone

How embarrassing, really, Kenji thought. He stared at himself in the mirror across from him as he sat on the edge of his neatly made bed, hands positioned behind him. He hadn’t seen you in what felt like months, and now the evidence was staring right back at him, though covered by the thick layer of his black sweats. It ached. He wanted nothing more than to relieve himself, but he knew himself. He can’t cum without your help.

And yet, he was desperate. Already, he was breathing heavily as he took a shaky hand and palmed his clothes dick. He let out a deep sigh before pulling down the waistband of his sweats juuuust enough for his cock to bobble up. The air was cold against his sensitive tip, and a hiss left his lips. Kenji wasted no time wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, just the way you do, trying to stimulate the same movements you used. He glanced up and caught a glimpse of himself biting his lip with a slightly flushed face in an attempt to hush himself from sounding so pathetic.

He imagined you behind him, guiding him to his orgasm, and the image itself makes him forget any rational thoughts.

“Fu-hhhh…”

That one time you really did sit behind him, whispering sweet nothings in his ears, reminding him how much of a slut he was for you while praising him all the same, popped up in his mind, and he couldn't help but stroke faster. Your sultry voice, your breath on his ears, the teasing kisses you gave him. Oh, how he fucking mi–

A loud ringtone filled the quiet room. Startled, he let go of himself, and his incoming orgasm was lost. But he quickly recognized the ringtone– it was the one he picked specifically for you.

But shit. Could the timing have been any worse better? At this point, his tip was fuming. An angry red, his slit trickling pre. He couldn't stop now, but he wasn't going to skip your call either.

“Hey baby… what's up?”

“Just wanted to say you did great today, sweetheart. I saw your little heroic moment on the news.” God, and the first thing you do is praise him. He feels like a horny teen again, the way he wraps his hands around his cock just to jerk off at the sound of your voice. You wouldn't mind though, right?

A shaky, “Yea?” was all he could manage without revealing his actions to you.

“Mhm, and also just to say sorry for not being able to see you lately. Work has been so busy and…” he could listen to you for hours. He stroked himself to the pace of your words, squeezing tighter every time he went over his tip. He couldn't do the same motions as you, his brain already too preoccupied with you and his need to empty his balls.

“Ken? Ken, baby, I know it’s been a few days, but if you’ve missed me that much, you could've just told me.”

He didn't even realize. He'd already gotten too comfortable, his back against the bed, one hand holding his phone to his ear, the other hand stroking his cock, and his throat eliciting all the evidence you could ever ask for. You'd never mistake these moans for anything but pleas for pleasure.

But being caught only spurred him on more. “Hahh– missed… you s’ much…” You couldn't hear them as well as his breathy groans, but the sound of slick was filling up the room, slowly but surely.

“Don’t you dare cum, Ken.” He stopped. A whine. You loved it. The way the pitch of his voice rose when he didn't get what he wanted. And he wanted more, so why should he listen? He thought he would break with how much his cock ached. Yet his hand was still at the base of his dick. “I’m coming over right now, so sit pretty like the good boy you are.”

He so terribly wanted to disobey you, show you he doesn't always have to be a good boy for you, but he knew himself. He wouldn't have been able to cum without you anyways.

[sunnie-angel]

week 1 (oct. 4) | voice kink

✮⋆˙ baby (2.3k)

it's been a long, shitty day and all jason wants to do is call his baby back home. they have a great idea of how to make the day end on a high note

tags: gn!reader, established relationship, guided masturbation, phone sex, voice kink, exhibitionism, sub!jason

⊘ this is an 18+ fic. minors do not interact, you will be blocked

Jason Todd throws himself onto the shitty motel bed and groans with relief. See, normally he wouldn’t collapse into bed right after a shower with his curls still damp but it’s been such a long day that he can’t be assed about flattening them on the cardboard thick pillow. He’s spent enough time since his rebirth to figure out how to make his curling hair look not terrible even after wearing a helmet for hours on end but the 18-metre tall intergalactic monster really killed any desire to make an effort.

Now Jason’s strictly a local guy – a hometown hero, if you will – but Dick had asked with his perfected puppy eyes and sickening earnestness and now here Jason is, all the way on the other side of the country from you and privately wanting a word with Lovecraft over just where he got his inspiration for Cthulu from. Somehow, due to unknown methods of persuasion (Dick’s puppy eyes), Jason had signed himself up to stay behind a second day just to make sure the quasi-scientifical-mostly-magical inter-dimensional crazy glue actually held the fabric of the universe together. So here he is, stuck in the least sleazy motel that had survived the day’s carnage with walls so paper thin he can hear Roy’s terrible singing echoing off the shower tiles. ‘Flawless victory’ or whatever the line is.

Too exhausted to change out of his towel or bother getting up to bang on the wall he shares with Roy, Jason paws at the night stand for his phone. Hopefully it’s had enough time to charge because he’s been itching to call home ever since he left the city boundaries. Listening to the phone ring, he closes his eyes, rests the back of his wrist across his forehead and waits. God he hopes you pick up.

“Hiya baby,” you greet him, voice tinny through the phone’s speakers. “You have fun fighting the creature from the deep? It was all over the news.”

“Remind me never to do Dick a favour ever again,” Jason grumbles. “Give me a crime lord with a hard on for sequins and leather any day. Never again.”

“Good, I don’t have to worry about you suddenly wanting to become a space man,” you snip back. Jason can just picture you nodding along with your words, already mentally discarding a desire that hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“See if I ever leave the state again! I had to spend 30 minutes in the shower trying to get the mysterious space gunk off and I don’t think any amount of washing is going to get my pants back to normal.” Genuinely Jason feels rubbed raw, the cheap bar soap in the bathroom basically doing nothing against the battle wreckage. He’s only glad he wore his second favourite pair of tac pants today. “Shit, I don’t think I even packed any spare underwear.”

“Oh so it’s that kind of phone call, huh?” your voice suddenly drops, low and purring where it was playful earlier.

“Wha– no, I didn’t– I mean,” Jason splutters. The motel room is suddenly boiling, AC probably on the fritz.

“Uh-huh, I’m sure you didn’t, baby,” you humor him. “Calling me up in nothing but a towel and lettin’ me know you don’t even have any underwear on.”  

“I just really need to do laundry!” is what comes out of Jason’s mouth in a mortifying mixture of embarrassment and growing horniness.

“All that talk about leather and showering, and you aren’t teasing me, hmm?” Jason can feel his hesitation crumbling at the sound of your voice, all whiskey and sin. “Left me alone for the whole weekend, aching for your touch. But you’re not teasing, right baby?”

“I wouldn’t wanna–“ Jason swallows thickly, adam’s apple bobbing, “–wanna leave you hangin’. But I uh, I don’t really know how to do this.” He whispers the last part like a secret, a confession of his innocence just for your ears. 

You laugh with delight, not even the busted speakers able to disguise the richness of it. Jason thinks he’d quite like to bathe in that sound.

“I’ve got you baby, you don’t need to worry about that. You just gotta come along for the ride. Can you do that? Just make yourself feel good with me?”

Jason nods, too lightheaded with how fast this conversation has changed direction to realize you can’t see him.

“Need you to use your words Jay,” you prompt him.

He flushes, embarrassment ripping through him.

“Y-yeah. I can do that. I can be sweet,” voice strangled in his throat. “But gotta– gotta be quiet ‘cause the walls are thin.”

“Okay! We can make quiet work. Baby’s first phone sex,” you say with palpable glee. Jason could swear he hears you rubbing your hands together, scheming. “Are you sitting or standing?”

“M’lying down,” he mumbles. “On the bed.” Jason’s trying to be helpful – he really is! – but the self-consciousness is creeping in, blurring out the edges of his vision. His room seems larger than it was an hour ago, suddenly hyperaware of every inch of space that doesn’t have you in it. The terrible singing through the walls echoes.

“Why don’t you prop yourself up on the pillows, get yourself all nice and comfy,” you direct him. There’s a corresponding sound of rustling coming over your end of the phone as Jason adjusts himself. Tucks two pillows under his back and neck until he’s satisfied that this is probably what you want from him. The cheap duvet scratches at his back, fabric bunching up beneath him.

“What about you?” he asks, sinking back into the disappointingly thin pillows.

“Me? I’m lying in our big, empty bed. It’s a little cold without the blankets, you can see my nipples right through my shirt.” Jason has to swallow back a sudden mouthful of saliva at the image. “Oh! And I put a towel down because I don’t want to sleep in the wet spot later and I plan on you making me messy.”

Jason has to fight the audible click of his jaw to keep the phone balanced on the pillow beside him as his muscles tense.

“Yeah? All of that for me?” he manages to get out.

“Why would I ever wanna do this with anyone else?” Something warm and possessive curls through Jason’s gut. “Now, you still in that little towel you were telling me about?” you ask.

“Uh-huh, still damp too.”

“Bet your skin is all lovely and warm. Poor baby rubbed himself raw trying to get clean, bet my baby’s just so sensitive now,” you drawl.

Jason looks down at himself, flushed torso still beaded with water. The towel, loosely wrapped around his waist, does very little to hide his dick chubbing up. It would be embarrassing, how quickly he gets hard for you with just a few coy words, if it wasn’t so hot. A door slams in another room.

“S’cold here. Feels– feels real nice on me.” It’s true. The working AC blasts directly onto his heated skin, gooseflesh rising across his forearms.

“Good. Can you touch yourself baby – only above the waist – like I’m the one touching you. Want you to tell me as you do it.”

Jason swallows. Hard. Slowly drags a hand up across his torso to press his thumb into the divot of his collarbone. Lips part with anticipation.

“Your fingers are on m’clavicle,” he whispers.  Slowly he drags his hand down to cup his chest, nipples tight from cold and arousal. “Now you’re touchin’ my chest. Squeezing. M’skin’s so sensitive, feels real nice.”

“Yeah? You lettin’ me feel up your tits baby?” you whisper and Jason chokes. Feels something hot unfurl in his brain at hearing his chest called something so vulgar.

“They’re not– not– ” he stutters.

“Not what?” you cut him off. “Not tits? ‘Course they are, nice big handfuls too. Want you to cup your tits baby, want you to play with them.”

Jason does, cups each pec in a large hand and squeezes, marvels at how his tits spill out around his fingers even as he feels the blush crawling down his chest. The side of a finger brushes a nipple and he has to bite back a groan at the sensation. Arches his back just to get a better view, imagines your hands are the ones on him. You don’t stop talking the whole time.

“–that be fun? I bet I could make you come just from playing with your tits. But I wanna see that in person so let’s wait on that, hmm?”

If Jason’s brain wasn’t melting out of his ears, he’d be able to tell you exactly how big a fan he is of that idea. As it is, he manages a sort of hrnng in a register he’s never been able to hit without a sharp kick to the balls first. He freezes, but Roy’s awful banging about continues. Jason sighs in relief.

“Oh you would like that. Now, take one of those nice big hands of yours and wrap it around your throat. Don’t squeeze, just hold it there for me baby. Take your time and unwrap yourself for me.”

With his eyes closed, he can almost picture it’s your smaller hand a steadying weight across his collarbones. Idly he trails his other hand down his torso, lets it trace over scars and follows his happy trail down to where it meets the knotted towel.

“Words,  baby,” you prompt him and he has to fight the thick syrup in his veins to put a thought together.

“M’undoin’ the towel,” he whisper slurs.

The cold air finally hitting his damp cock is heady. It springs up, already drooling with pre and Jason knows he’s not gonna last much longer with you purring in his ear. He reaches down and grabs hold of himself, has to bite his lip and close his eyes against how raw it feels.

“Holdin’ the base. Gonna– gonna cum if I don’,” he pants. 

There’s rustling on the end of the line, slick wet sounds as you start to split yourself open on your own fingers. Something like pride throbs in his chest at the sound, that even all the way over here he can still get you desperate for him.

“Good baby, good,” you praise him and he puffs up at that, chest arching out. “Can take your hand off your throat now, want you to play with yourself.”

His other hand slowly trails down to join the first. Jason huffs when it brushes a particularly sensitive patch of skin, gooseflesh raised. He cradles his balls with it, feels how heavy and tight they already are from just some words and a few light touches. Rolls them in his palm and has to wheeze out a breath between clenched teeth at how goddamn good it feels.

“It’s– m’balls are heavy. Needta– needta come,” he grits out. Begging seems like a good idea, why hasn’t he tried begging yet? “Please?”

“Ye-ah baby,” you say. It’s the first time all night that your composure has slipped and Jason is preening at the slight hitch he put in your voice. “Want you to fuck your fist like you’re fucking me and then you come alright?” 

Jason can’t do much more than pant his agreement into the phone, voice stolen by the feeling of that first tentative stroke of his cock. God he wishes it was your hand, or better yet the hot, tight clutch of your body welcoming him home. With his hand slicked in pre and almost painfully tight, he can imagine its you sinking down around him with that cheshire cat grin of yours. Lewd, wet sounds of flesh on flesh fill the motel room as Jason works himself over. Sets a vicious twist of his wrist to the end of each stroke that has him gasping for air, hips bucking up to meet it. His teeth ache with the strength of his desire to come, something hot and heavy gathering low at the base of his spine.

“M’close,” he grunts, wants to give you what you want.

The wet, filthy sounds from your end of the line speed up in their intensity.

“Wanna hear you when you come baby,” you gasp, all pretense dissolved under the building pleasure.

And Jason wants to be good but, but–

“Roy’s– Roy’s gonna hear.”

“Yeah? What’s he gonna hear? You being a good boy for me baby, doing exactly as your told? He gonna hear just how desperate your are to get your dick wet for me?”

Jason goddamn whines, high and wanton and desperate for your approval. The singing from next door abruptly stops. I hope that doesn’t awaken anything in me, Jason thinks hysterically before he stops thinking at all.

He comes babbling your name like a holy catechism, cum spurting all over his fist and belly. Muscles spasming under skin that feels too tight, mouth drier than dirt. Spent and over-sensitive, he lets go of his dick just as he hears your own orgasm take you under. Jelly limbed and feeling better than he has all day, he lolls cum drunk on the bed. Two sharp rapid knocks on the wall startle him but do nothing to cut through the lovely post-orgasmic high. If anyone deserves to be a little out of it in this moment, it’s him.

“Saw you took a pretty bad tumble...” you trail off leadingly, voice lilting upwards.

“Looked a lot worse than it was. Medics gave me a clean bill of health and everything.” It’s odd to be the one doing the soothing, Jason thinks, still fucked out and blinking away stars.

“But you’d tell me if it wasn’t, right?” you press him.

“Course baby, you’d be the first person I call.”

[sucodelaranja86]

heyy! a fluff request for f!reader x hyun-ju (established relationship). Reader just got back home from a trip so hyun-ju couldn't help but be clingy when she got back home.

- did you miss me? : ★

featuring: hyun-ju cho x reader

summary: after a long trip, you come back home to your girlfriend who missed you more than she can express.

warnings: none

genre: fluff + comfort

A/N: a good part of it re-seted itself in my drafts.

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

➤ As you hopped off the bus, the front of your apartment was finally visible. Although you would normally be feeling tired by the end of your trip, there was a feeling that easily overpowered you body basic needs.

And that was the loneliness you felt without you beloved girlfriend. Over the time of this trip, you could finally realize how dependent you actually were on her. 3 weeks without her warm meals, 3 weeks without her soothing voice waking you up and putting you to sleep, without her energetic "welcome home" everytime you came back and opened that door.

And most of all, 3 weeks without any physical affection from her. You were going crazy!

As you quickly stumbled upstairs, you were greeted with the familiar door of your apartment. She messaged you that she didn't have any plans for today- which was great, she must be home. You messily picked up your keys and took a good 10 seconds to get the door open, trembling from anticipation.

As the door opens, you are greeted with the sight of your so beloved home, and a delicious smell that plagued the entire ambient. She must have already made dinner!

As you walk quietly throught the door leading to the kitchen, you see a familiar sight that you missed so much. She was wearing her typical messy ponytail, and a thin pair of sleepwear that consisted of shorts and a strap shirt.

A sight you definitively needed to see after a long day.

As she was cutting what you presumed that were vegetables, you quietly make you way behind her, trying to make a surprise, and-

"i know you are there, my love."

Stupid military experience.

She puts the knife down and makes her way towards you, pulling you into a tight hug. You both squish each other out of neediness. The longing you two felt while being away from each other felt terrible, but you're glad it's now over.

Your cute moment is temporarily interrupted as she purposefully squishes your face onto her chest, a playful smile on her face.

"Did you miss me, hm?"

Oh, she knew the effect she had on you, didn't she?

-

Dinner was long-time ready, but you couldn't bring yourself to get up and eat.

As you were cuddling with your needy girlfriend, it was like seeing a whole new person. Who would tell that the usually adult-like person of the relationship would be reduced to a puddle of clingyness?

As you planted kisses along the top of her head, you couldn't help but imagine how long this would last?

Is not like you weren't enjoying it, it was the absolute contrary! You loved every single second of being with her. It was just...

You couldn't breathe.

When you imagined a 'bone-crushing' hug, you didn't meant it literally. As your partner, even in her sleep, seemed to want to perpetrate your heart.

You tried to move out of her hug, even if it was just a bit. But again, her military experience seemed to just complicate your life.

"... Where are you going?"

She said in a groggy tone, still holding like an anime high-school girl into your left arm.

"Do my plate for dinner."

"... Please... stay"

Who even was this impostor? Your girlfriend who nagged you if you skipped a single meal was not this clingy creature-! It seemed that you created a whole new person by just staying out for a few days.

Before you could object further, she used her weight to pull you down again. This time, snuggling your face, again, agaisnt her chest.

"Goodnight, my love..." she muttered in a sleepy tone.

. . .

Dinner could wait.

"Goodnight, Hyun-ju."

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

[edenesth]

Clumsy Hearts, Steady Love

Pairing: boyfriend!Hongjoong x fem!reader

AU: non-idol au

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: He was a great friend but a terrible lover, and he knew it. For the longest time, he believed he wasn’t cut out for relationships. But then you came along, and for the first time, he wanted to try. He wanted to be better, to be good for you, even if it meant being clumsy along the way. For you, he was willing to learn how to love.

A/N: Only @itstheghostofmypast knows this was initially meant to be a timestamp🤡

ATEEZ Masterlist

"Don't drive today, darling. I'll pick you up from work this evening."

Those words from Kim Hongjoong echoed in your mind. For the first time in a year of being together, he offered to pick you up. Your heart soared at the unexpected sweetness from him.

It wasn't that you thought he was a bad boyfriend, but you knew his nature from the very beginning. Your friends had warned you when you accepted him; he was a workaholic, someone who would always put anything and everything before you. A good friend but a bad lover—that was his reputation. Yet, you couldn't deny the way he made your heart race, the way his presence made everything better, the way he vowed to love you as you deserved, the way he promised he would try for you.

From the start, you knew what you were getting into. You didn't expect perfection. You didn't want perfection.

You just wanted him.

But loving Hongjoong truly was not easy.

It could be exhausting. Perhaps today was another one of those days.

You had looked forward to this day for so long, hoping he would be the boyfriend he promised to be. But deep down, you knew better than to have such high hopes.

Letting out what felt like the thousandth sigh of the day, you nearly froze to death from being soaked in the rain, your ankle throbbed from a sprained heel as you stood by the bus stop outside your office building where he was supposed to pick you up.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

Every call went straight to voicemail, escalating your worry to panic. You didn’t dare move, fearing he might arrive at an empty bus stop.

After hours of agony, trying to reach him, and calling all his friends, you got the same useless response: he was unreachable, and they had no idea where he could be.

Three hours.

You sat there for three hours, sick with worry about him, when you were the one who needed care, only to end up taking the bus home. So much for the excitement and anticipation of him picking you up for the first time. You should have been furious, but the pounding headache and rising fever stole that from you. Another heavy sigh escaped your lips, the disappointment of what should have been an exciting Friday evening turning into an utter disaster.

"Enough, my darling. I'm here now, am I not?" said Kim Hongjoong.

The audacity.

You had left work to be greeted by a heavy downpour, cursing yourself for not bringing an umbrella. As if things couldn't get worse, your sprint to the bus stop where he promised to pick you up was interrupted when your heel chose that moment to snap. You yelped in pain, stumbling forward onto the wet ground, your belongings scattering everywhere. Crawling on the rough pavement to collect them, you finally stood up, only to feel a sharp throb in your ankle.

But it was supposed to be okay because seeing Hongjoong was sure to make everything better.

Ha, bitch you thought.

He left you panicking like a mad woman for hours, only to show up in the most infuriating way. When the 8pm bus finally rolled to a stop before you and the automated doors swooshed opened, you were busy dialling his number yet again.

"Come on, pick up pick up pick up—"

Wait a minute, is that...?

You did a double take when the very person you had been desperately trying to reach this whole time stepped off the bus with a sheepish smile, only for his expression to fall when he saw the miserable state you were in.

"Please throw your phone away if you have no intention of using it," you said flatly, walking past him and intentionally bumping his shoulder as you boarded the bus, no longer caring if he followed.

Of course, he did.

He cursed under his breath, noticing your limp, the heels in your hand, and your soaked, shivering form.

Settling into the last row of seats beside you, he quickly took off his jacket and wrapped it around you. You were too weak to fight back or refuse. His heart ached as he pulled you close, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to warm you up. Silently, you accepted it all. Not only were you too exhausted to reject his gestures, but you also felt you deserved this and more after what you had endured. When you were warm enough, he immediately checked on your now swollen and bruised ankle, careful not to hurt you. The concern in his eyes was enough to melt your heart, but he didn't need to know that.

Once he was done fussing over you, he leaned back in his seat, offering his shoulder. Stubbornly, you turned away and leaned your head against the window instead. Knowing you needed time to calm down, he kept quiet and let you be, but not without staying close. He needed you to know he was there for you.

When you sighed again, he could no longer take it. He felt the need to explain himself.

"I know you're mad, and you have every right to be," he began, his voice soft and sincere. "I messed up, and I'm so sorry. I got caught up in something I couldn't get out of, and I swear I was going to call you, but my phone died and the stupid car broke down. God, I'm such an idiot. I should have tried harder to reach you or get to you sooner."

Still, you said nothing, your silence more punishing than any words you could have spoken. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly at a loss.

"I love you," he whispered, almost to himself. "I just want to make things right."

For a moment, you softened, but the memory of the cold rain and the throbbing pain in your ankle kept your resolve firm. He had to understand the gravity of his actions.

Finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "You can't just show up and expect everything to be okay, Joong. You scared me. I thought something terrible had happened to you. And all the while, I was the one who was hurt and alone."

"I know," he said, his voice cracking. "And I'm so, so sorry, my darling. Please, give me a chance to make it up to you."

You turned to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he got on the bus. The sincerity and regret in his gaze were undeniable.

"One chance, Kim Hongjoong," you said firmly. "Don't mess it up."

He nodded, relief washing over his face. "I won't. I promise."

With that, you leaned back against the window, still not ready to forgive, but willing to see if he could truly make amends. And for the rest of the ride, he stayed close, his presence a silent vow that he would try his best to make things right.

As you slowly drifted to sleep, he guided your head to his shoulder, gently pressing his cheek against your forehead. Feeling your breath steady and the tension ease from your body, he allowed himself a small, relieved smile. He reached for your cold hands, stroking his fingers against your skin to warm you, finding it funny how he used to judge couples in public, but now that he had you, he realised he couldn't blame them—you were all that mattered.

The truth was, he had been late leaving work today, and to make matters worse, his car had broken down in the middle of heavy traffic. When he tried to call you, his phone had died. In desperation, he had caught the quickest bus he could find, but traffic had been relentless. He could have told you all of this, but he didn’t want to make excuses. He knew he should have done better.

Hongjoong glanced down at you, his heart aching with tenderness and guilt. He was still clumsy when it came to love, but for you, he would learn to be a better lover. Stroking your hair gently, he whispered, "I’m so sorry. I won't make you wait again. I promise to do better. I promise to always be there for you."

The bus ride continued in peaceful silence, the hum of the engine and the occasional jostle of the road the only sounds. He held you close, vowing silently to never let you down again. As the bus neared your stop, he adjusted his position, cupping your cheek softly and kissing your head, whispering, "We're here, darling."

You let out a small groan as your eyes fluttered open, unconsciously snuggling closer to his warmth and comfort as you tried to register your surroundings. If only you knew what your little actions did to his poor heart. Tightening his grip around you, he helped you up from your seat and carefully guided you out of the bus, ensuring you didn't put pressure on your injured ankle. The driver gave you a sympathetic nod as the two of you stepped off. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the night was calm.

As you walked the short distance to your shared apartment, you suddenly remembered what had happened and peeled his hands off you. You weren't necessarily cold to him but you still needed space to cool off. He gulped, his fear of losing you was apparent. "Please, you're hurt. Let me take care of you."

To be fair, he knew he deserved your reaction. You weren't upset merely because of what happened today; he believed this was you letting out all the frustration you had kept in for the entirety of your one-year relationship. And he knew now that if he wanted to keep you by his side, this was his sign to take things more seriously.

No more excuses.

You had been nothing but the best and most attentive girlfriend to him. So, what was stopping him from doing the same for you?

He knew you didn't want to be near him right now, but he also didn't have the heart to stay away. Offering his hand, he nodded toward it. "Come, let's go home."

Tired out of your mind, you swallowed your anger, deciding to save it for another time. For now, you needed him. You reached out with a pout, surprising him by holding onto his pointer finger. "Fine, let's go."

He chuckled, his heart bursting with affection at how cute you were. This was better than nothing. Walking slowly, he made sure you weren't hurting yourself, each step a reminder of his promise to himself and you.

As you entered your apartment, he helped you settle onto the couch, your injured ankle elevated and cushioned. He fetched a blanket and wrapped it around you, his eyes filled with concern. "I'll make us some tea," he said softly, heading to the kitchen.

While he prepared the tea, you watched him move with a newfound determination. You could see he was trying, truly trying, to be better for you. And that thought, more than anything, began to melt the icy wall you had momentarily built up in your heart.

He returned with two steaming mugs, setting them on the table before sitting beside you. He took your hand gently, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. "I know I have a lot to make up for," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "But I promise, I will. You mean everything to me."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the honesty and love there. It was a start, and as you sipped your tea together, you felt a glimmer of hope that things could truly change.

Just as you finished your tea, you sighed and looked up at him, intending to get up and head to your room. But before you could move, he gently squeezed your hand and stood up. "Let me help you," he insisted, his voice gentle yet firm.

You hesitated, feeling torn between wanting to assert your independence and appreciating his newfound care. "I can manage," you insisted weakly.

"I know you can, darling," he replied softly, crouching beside you. "But let me take care of you this time, please."

His sincerity was palpable, and despite your initial resistance, you found yourself nodding. He carefully helped you to your feet, supporting your weight as you limped towards your room. Once inside, he waited patiently as you freshened up and changed into dry clothes, his presence a reassuring warmth in the quiet of the room.

As you emerged, feeling somewhat more composed, you glanced at him gratefully. "Thank you, Joong," you murmured, genuinely touched by his unexpected tenderness.

He smiled softly, his eyes reflecting relief and determination. "It's only my job as your boyfriend," he replied earnestly.

Returning to the living room, you settled back onto the couch together. The warmth of his tea and his presence beside you enveloped you in a sense of security and hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, things could indeed change for the better between you.

You couldn't deny his affections any longer, his pleading look was enough to melt you into his embrace. As he gently pulled the throw blanket snugly around you, drawing you closer, your heart fluttered. His actions conveyed a heartfelt apology, reminding you why you could never leave this man, no matter how tiring things became. At the end of the day, you both belonged to each other, despite his occasional clumsiness; your love remained steadfast.

Nuzzling against his neck, you breathed in his familiar scent. "How's the car? Have you contacted insurance?" you murmured, slipping effortlessly into the role of the attentive girlfriend he knew so well.

With a tender smile, he shook his head. "Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it. Take care of everything. Take care of you."

His words made your heart skip a beat, and you tightened your grip on his sweater. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Kim Hongjoong," you teased gently.

He reassured you with a squeeze of your shoulder. "I won't, my darling. Not anymore."

Looking up at your boyfriend, you could see the honesty in his eyes. You knew perfection wasn't guaranteed from this point onward, but you at least trusted that he would always give his best effort.

And that was what mattered most.

"If you say so," you whispered, your eyes closing as he leaned in to press his lips against yours. Hongjoong understood your doubts, but this was where he would begin to earn your trust.

From now on, he would do everything to be the lover you deserved. He would learn from his mistakes and grow, all for the sake of the person he loved most in the world.

I swear, this came out of nowhere lmfao. I was supposed to be working on Jongho's TWTHH spinoff but this happened. Tbf, this has been swirling in my mind for the past week at work because something similar happened to me. I was soaked in the rain and my heel did snap. The 3-hour wait was also a past experience of mine, except that douchebag was no Kim Hongjoong HAHA

Thank you for reading and I hope you lovelies enjoyed this random little oneshot. As always, let me know your thoughts! <3

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@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |

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@bangtannie7

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[masonmontz]

notes: so, i know it's not a good day because of the news, but i still hope this cheers you up a little :(

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

dad!mason word count: 1,7k

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Shit” Mason swore loudly and you heard a toy being thrown away. You laughed, he probably stepped on a toy that made even his soul hurt. “Annie, I won't say it again, come pick up all the toys you threw on the floor” you were startled when you heard Mason's loud voice to Annie, because he never spoke to you like that. 

You decided not to interfere, because Mason is also her father and he was scolding her for a reason.

“But dad, I'm playing with my toys, you can't ask me to put everything away” she snapped loudly. You were in the kitchen preparing dinner while Annie was in the living room playing and watching. 

Mason came home stressed from Carrington, but he never took it out on you, until today.

“I'm not asking, I'm ordering” he said to her and the house was silent for a few seconds. “Collect all these dolls and then we'll have dinner.”

“You are the worst daddy in the world, Julie's dad never asked her to put away her toys” she yelled at Mason in a tearful voice, and you dropped what you were doing to walk into the living room.

Wow.

You arrived in time to see your four-year-old girl running up the stairs and then you heard her bedroom door slam. Mason sighed, running his hands through his hair and face, realizing that he had overdone it and was now considered the worst daddy in the world.

“What’s wrong, Mase?” you asked, placing your hand on Mason's shoulder and he looked at you tiredly. 

“I had a bad training session today and I took it out on her, now she hates me.”

You laughed as you left a kiss on his cheek, knowing it wasn't true. Annie loves her daddy and nothing in the world would make her hate him, but she's figuring out her own emotions, and sometimes you forget she's just a kid.

“I'll talk to her, set the table for dinner, please.”

You went up the stairs and went to Annie's room, opening the door and just popping your head in before entering. She was lying in the middle of the pink blankets and you could see her shoulders moving from the sobs of her crying.

Understandable, after all Mason never yelled at her.

“Hey, honey” you sat on her bed, pulling Annie onto your lap. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Daddy yelled at me” she sobbed and held onto your coat, putting her face in the fabric and crying even more, feeling safe to cry in your arms. 

“Oh my love, daddy didn't mean to yell at you, he had a stressful day.” 

“But I just wanted to play with my toys” she cried louder, grabbing your neck with her little arms. 

“I know honey, daddy will apologize, okay?” you left a kiss on her cheeks and wiped away some tears. “But you can't yell at him, he's your father.”

“I don't want to talk to him right now.”

“No? Don't you want to come down for dinner?”

“No, I'll stay here.”

You sighed, Annie is upset with Mason and he's going to be upset with himself when he finds out she doesn't want to have dinner because he yelled at her. 

“I'll bring you dinner, okay? Do you want me to turn on the TV?”

“Yes, please.”

You left Annie lying down while you went downstairs, and Mason was in the kitchen putting food on the table and raised his eyebrows when he didn't see Annie with you. 

“Where is Annie?” he asked as he put some of the noodles on her plate. You could see on Mason's face how much he was blaming himself for yelling at his little girl. 

“She doesn't want to come down for dinner, I'll take the food to her.”

“What? She doesn't want dinner because I'm here?”

“You can't blame her, can you?” you grabbed the plate for her as you watched Mason sit down and cover his face with his hands.

“Shit, I'm a terrible dad.”

“You know that's not true, Mason. You're a great father and you know that, she's just a little upset, I think you should apologize.”

“Yes, I'll bring her dinner. Will you wait for me to eat?” 

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

Mason slowly opened the bedroom door, and Annie was sitting on the bed watching the cartoon with a few tears streaming down her face. Mason felt terrible, he never wanted to hurt his baby on purpose.

He carried with him a plate of mashed potatoes and chicken, a glass of juice, and a chocolate bar to please Annie. Annie didn't even look at Mason when she heard him enter the room, and it broke his heart into several pieces. 

“Hey love, daddy brought your dinner” Mason put everything on the table next to the bed and sat down next to Annie, and not even the smell of the food made her look at him. Mason saw her eyes full of tears, and he himself wanted to cry for yelling at her. 

“I don't want to eat.”

“No?” Mason pouted, laying down next to Annie on the bed, but she continued to ignore him. “Annie, could you forgive Daddy for yelling at you? I was stressed and yelled at you, but that's really bad. Do you remember that mom and I taught you not to yell at people?”

“Yes.”

“I didn't mean to yell at you, could you forgive me?”

Annie didn't respond.

She just got out of bed, walked to the pink table in her room and started eating alone, still extremely disappointed by Mason's screams, after all she had never heard Mason raise his voice like that.

Mason's heart sank, and he just shook his head to himself when he realized that he still hadn't been forgiven.

And even though she didn't want Mason's help to eat, he stayed by her side until she finished dinner, and when she had eaten all the food on her plate, she walked over to the small pile of books in the corner of the room, picked up the colored pencils and began to color, without saying anything to Mason who was watching her.

Mason picked up the dishes and went downstairs sadly, which didn't go unnoticed by you, who was in the living room waiting for him to have dinner. 

“Did she eat it all?”

“Yes. Alone.”

Mason's voice was low, and from his face you could tell things hadn't gone well between him and Annie. You walked into the kitchen behind him, and it looked like Mason's world had ended, his shoulders hunched, his head down, and his eyes sad.

You walked over to him and hugged him from behind as he put the dishes in the kitchen sink. Mason sighed when he felt your arms around him and held your hands, you rested your face on his back, leaving a few light kisses and Mason leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“I feel like shit. I didn't mean to yell at her, I don't know what happened, and she's so disappointed in me that she ate alone and didn't want my help.”

“You don't have to blame yourself so much, Mason, it happened. If you feel like this now that she's four, imagine when she's eighteen and runs away to her boyfriend's house?”

“Don't tell me that” he grumbled and you smiled against his back, and you rubbed your palm on his chest, trying to somehow comfort him. “I don't know what to do to make her forgive me.”

“She is not able to resist you, give her some more time, soon she will forget” Mason nodded and you let go of him, he turned around and you left a light kiss on his lips, drawing a small sad smile.

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

Annie didn't forgive Mason, he's the one who puts her to sleep almost every day, and Mason didn't hide his sadness when she asked for you at bedtime. Mason sadly took a shower, lay down on the bed and waited for you.

“She still doesn't want to talk to me?” he asked as soon as he saw you.

“I told her you were going to take her to Carrington with you and she said she doesn't want to go.”

“But she loves going there with me.”

Mason didn't know what to do to make Annie forgive him, and he thought of all the toys he could buy to make her forgive him, but he knew you would argue with him if he showered her with unnecessary toys.

Mason went to sleep planning on the sweets he would buy for her the next day, because no one can resist any sweet, and he slept among his own thoughts while you stroked his hair, still trying to comfort him. 

Mason woke up hearing a cry in the middle of the night, getting up scared when he heard Annie's cry. You didn't even move while you slept, in the last few nights you had suffered from insomnia and it was the first night you slept soundly.

He ran to Annie's room and found her sitting on the bed crying heavily, and Mason didn't think twice before taking her in his arms to calm her down.

“What’s wrong, baby?” 

Annie clung to his neck, tears fell on Mason's skin and he didn't let go of her as he left a few kisses on her strawberry-scented hair.

“Nightmare, there was a witch chasing me.”

“It was just a bad dream, love, you're safe with daddy, okay?” Annie nodded, relaxing completely into Mason's strong arms. “Do you want to sleep with mummy and daddy?”

“Yeah” Annie sniffed, Mason picked up the teddy bear that always slept with her and walked slowly towards the bedroom. You hadn't even moved, Mason was relieved because Annie had forgotten about their argument, and she was hugging him so tightly because she was still scared of the witch.

“You're safe, okay? There's no witch here” Mason whispered and Annie nodded, he placed her in the middle of the bed and lay down, feeling his daughter snuggle into him like she usually does when she sleeps with the two of you.

“You were going to protect me, weren't you, daddy?”

“Always, love.”

“I love you five hundred, dad” she whispered to not wake you, smiling at Mason and closing her eyes to sleep.

“Wow, that’s too much” Mason whispered back, kissing her forehead as he tried to hug the two of you. “I love you six hundred.”

[drchucktingle]

POUNDED BY DR. GLOBUS

wanted to post today about recent health journey of chuck. ALL STARTED at texas show when i began to feel tightness in throat. i have learned this is called GLOBUS which is a tingler character name if ive ever heard one. got through appearance and had blast but felt terrible

plane journey home was even worse. first thought i strained my voice, then tested for covid (negative) and then figured it was just some kind of virus. had running nose and hoarse and extreme pain behind face and MOST of all this golf ball throat

figured i would get better as viruses tend to go but I DID NOT. after a few weeks went to way of urgent care and they took one look and said you have EXTREME FORM OF ACID REFLUX called laryngopharyngeal reflux (also great tingler character name)

basically this is when your stomach acid comes all the way back up into your throat and erodes it. they immediately put me on medications name of pepcid plus tums plus gaviscon and on and on. was inhaling a dang pharmacy every morning

problem is, NO CHANGE. in fact it started getting worse. in addition to previous symptoms i now couldnt keep any food down. upset stomach all the time. could barely sleep. plus it is scary to have a sickness that gets WORSE over time like this

more doctor talks. i up doses of medication to combat sickness but does not seem to work. one night wake up and think 'dang i need to go to er my stomach is going to just melt or something' (keep in mind because i cant keep food down i am always hungry too).

i go to hospital and they say 'WHOA we need to intervene right now we are doing some tests and putting you on SERIOUS LIFE CHANGING MEDICINE. but here is catch to do the tests we need you to stop all your medication for 48 hours and it will be HECK but you gotta do it bud'

so i stop all medication in preparation for new SICK LIFE and suddenly… i start feeling better. not just a little but after weeks of this awful way i wake up in ONE DAY and feel fully cured. now heres twist: at the same time this was happening I started taking allergy medicine

you may already know where i am going with so i will just hit you with it. my INITIAL SICKNESS was just extreme seasonal allergies that required nothing more than claritin and flonase. however i was misdiagnosed with ACID REFLUX and medication was making my stomach a wasteland

the second i stopped taking acid reflux meds and started on allergy trot i was better almost instantly. today i feel HECKIN GREAT. (SIDE NOTE: after 4 years of chronic pain i am so thankful to not have some OTHER long term health trot to deal with. DANG)

so what is lesson here? first of all please do not think this is in ANY WAY anti-doctor rant or anti-medicine. my doctors were trying their best and made a mistake, they are just people. ALSO while acid reflux medicine made me sick, allergy meds made me better. i am SO fortunate

but what is REALLY fortunate is that chuck is covered under SWEET BARBARAS HEALTH CARE (she gets very good coverage under the frozen lake). most artist buckaroos, even WILDLY successful ones, do not have health care which is huge issue that should be talked on more.

point is EVERYONE should have healthcare. this whole adventure was bad, but it also only cost me 50 dollars. hundreds of thousands of other buckaroos would have to deal with this PLUS it would completely upend their life to cover medical expenses because of a SIMPLE MISTAKE

so that is my story, usually there is more of a lesson to these rants but this one is really just ‘dang what a trip.’ so grateful for my health and my way and the fact i can get simple allergy medicine over the counter. most of all THANKFUL FOR MY BODY it is such a treat to exist

thank you for reading and remember to advocate for yourself and your feelings both BODY and MIND at the doctor. listen to your trot and do not forget that LOVING YOURSELF AND THE SYSTEMS OF YOUR BODY proves love just as much as loving others. trot on buckaroos

[unsolvedjarin]

COMPLICATED — prologue

pairing: (fernando alonso x driver!reader) (grid x platonic!reader) — mostly older!grid

summary: you and fernando were known to be the biggest rivals on and off track back in 2012. that rivalry even crossed the line to pure hatred many years ago. but how did that hatred turn you two into the loving iconic couple of f1 you are today?

note: i’ve been dying to write this for AGES. it’s the fic that’s the reason i made this blog. keep in mind however this is just the prologue, so i’m simply setting up the story for where i want it to go. after this mostly social media chapter it gets plot heavy. anyways i hope you enjoy this!!!

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liked by danielricciardo, lewishamilton, and 528,293 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, aussiegrit, jensonbutton, sebastianvettel, lewishamilton

yourusername beach day with my boys! had so much fun pretending to know what i’m doing while surfing (do NOT trust mark when he says he’ll teach you how to surf. he’s horrible.)

view comments

aussiegrit you falling off the board 272872 times was of your own accord, don’t blame the teacher!

jensonbutton mate you fell off your OWN board 272872 times, i think when it gets to that it’s the teacher’s fault

yourusername get his ass again for me jense

fernandoalo_oficial looking great amor! 🥰

yourusername thanks to my amazing photographer 🫶

jensonbutton what about the pictures i took?

yourusername they were definitely pictures!

fernandoalo_oficial posted a new story

—2012

This was not Fernando Alonso’s year. Losing the World Championship by 3 points was not good on his ego nor on his morale, yet here he was.

Everyone was celebrating Sebastian now for having won his 3rd World Championship�� but Fernando was angry. Not at Sebastian, but at you. 

You who had gotten first place. 

You who was third in the Drivers Championship and had no chance to pass Fernando on the standings, yet still overtook him during the last two laps. You couldn’t even let him win.

“Good race Nando,” he heard a voice in front of him say. He paid no attention to it.

Getting no reply from him, you scoff and put down your water bottle. “I know you’re mad at me for getting first, but at least have some sportsmanship.”

That gets him to look up and take a proper look at you, post race sweat and your race suit dangling at your hips. He thinks you glow look terrible in this light. Because he was sat on some stairs, you were standing over him, hands on hips with a slightly smug look on your face. 

“Don’t be a sore loser. It’s unbecoming.”

“I could have won the championship. I was three points away— three, and you could not even let me have that?” He gestures wildly. “I know you dislike me, but stealing my championship is far and beyond, L/N.”

He stands up, purposely hitting your shoulder as he walks past you. 

Oh the bastard. He wanted to throw out accusations? Fine. 

“Oh don’t be such a hypocrite. I stole your championship? What good would that even do me? I’m third in the standings, there was no way I was going to catch up to you,” you retort. Fernando was still facing away from you, but frozen on the spot. You knew he was listening. “I went faster because my contract with Mercedes expires this year. I’m losing my fucking seat, I need to prove to other teams I’m worth it. It’s bad enough you’re constantly fucking badmouthing my character to the press, and now you question my integrity as a driver? Honestly, Alonso, grow the fuck up. Not everything is about you.”

A silence befalls the room. Fernando doesn’t speak or do anything, and the seconds waiting for a response feels like minutes. He’s facing you at this point, speechless in his Ferrari race suit that looks fucking great on him. Too bad he’s a shitty person.

You sigh, exhausted. “Nothing?” 

He shakes his head and looks down. Of course. He’s got nothing to say. Resigning, this time you’re the one to walk past him and towards the door behind him. He tries to look at everything else in the room that wasn’t you, the walls, the stairs, the tables, but that wasn’t enough to avoid your exasperated look that he could see through his peripheral vision.

He should’ve done something, anything. Stop you from walking away, tell you he’s sorry, just something. But he didn’t do anything. That was his first mistake.

One of many.

—PRESENT

MAHK WEBBAH

once again asking if we can change the group name

JENSE

it’s correct though? But while we’re on the topic of the groupchat can we change the photo

YOURNAME

no

its beautiful whats wrong with you

JENSE

okay then we’re not changing the group name

MAHK WEBBAH has left world champs + mark

YOURNAME

give him a few minutes he’s having a temper tantrum because skysports labelled his name as “Sebastian Vettel’s former teammate”

SEBBY

IJBOL

NANDO

??????

JENSE

??????????

YOURNAME

where the fuck did you learn that

AUTHORS NOTE: i know some of these are ooc but i had too much fun making the fake tweets 😵‍💫 this is quite a plot heavy fic from here on out, so put on your reading glasses!

[helluverse-rewrites]

Rewriting Ars Goetia

That's right boisss we're gonna be talking about Stolass now 😎😎😎😎 and the others btw

Stolas

He is a villain. A bad guy. An antagonist. A big ol' bully

If Stolas was a villain, he would actually be a pretty good character me thinks

Like, he's manipulative, condescending, treats Blitzø like a worthless sex toy, shifts blame onto others, never takes responsibility, I could go on

So nothing about Stolas really changes actually. He's still the same but has a more sinister vibe going on. And he's going to be treated as if he's in the wrong. Because he is

Growing up, he was a sweet, naïve kid who just wanted to make his father proud. But no matter what he did, what he said, Paimon just wouldn't give him the time of day. He couldn't even remember his son's own name. His father's neglect mixed with the pressures of being in an arranged, loveless marriage, and the pressure that comes with being an heir to the Goetia throne. Made Stolas the person (or owl man) he is today

He has a lot of pent up anger that has been built up throughout his childhood all the way through his teens. And now as an adult he takes his anger out on those who don't deserve it

Whenever someone does confront him on his behavior, he often plays victim and gets all teary eyed and all that. He guilt trips, he lies, he manipulates. It's what he's best at

He👏should👏have👏been👏the👏main👏villain

Stella

Stella bbg I'm so sorry let me save you from this wretched show

The rewrite Stella is very different from canon Stella.

Stella, though very short tempered, has a huge soft spot for her daughter. No matter what happens, Octavia comes first. A killer breaks into the house but baby Octavia finally goes to sleep after hours of fussy crying! Stella will fend them off in the quietest way possible to avoid waking her up. You know what? That's a canon event in the rewrite now. Because I say so

Yeah but you get the point. Stella always puts Octavia first. At first Stella did try to make the marriage work, she really did! But Stolas just seems to find excuses to guilt trip her and make her the bad guy in the marriage. Despite what Stolas says, he did not try making the arrangement work in the slightest. It was always Stella doing everything and she's almost at her limit

Just one thing... it's not like she can just divorce Stolas. He's the biological heir to the Goetia throne for crying out loud! If she divorced him, it would be all over the news and everyone would just be real shitty about it. Not to mention Andrealphus won't be very happy to figure out his sister is no longer with Prince Stolas

So... she's stuck. Stuck with this life. This life of abuse and manipulation. But as long as nothing happens to Octavia, Stella is happy. As happy as she could be given her situation

She also had terrible parents that would belittle her and didn't give a shit about her feelings towards the forced marriage. So she vowed that she wouldn't be the same parent that they were to her

Octavia

Octavia is still relatively the same as in canon

But she does hide most of her life from Stolas, fearful that he'll be disapproving. But Octavia has a great relationship with her mother who has always been supportive of her interests

I think I'm gonna age her down a year and make her sixteen while Loona is seventeen because I want Loona to be kinda like an older sister

There might not be much for Octavia right now, but believe me, I have ideas

Paimon

Okay so I'm gonna be honest, Paimon doesn't do much. But I just put him here to say that a common thing among the Goetias is generational trauma

I like to imagine Paimon had a similar upbringing to Stolas and treated him the same way he was treated throughout his childhood

Of course he never took the time to realize that he was doing more harm than he could've imagined (because Stolas spreads his pain to other people and all that)

Andrealphus

Goddam I hate how long his name is

Anyways, along with Stolas, Andrealphus is the next big bad. He is a selfish, conniving bastard. He's Stella's older brother and a terrible one at that. He sees her as a moron and someone who doesn't even deserve the throne unlike him

While his parents also treated him horribly, it doesn't excuse his actions towards others. Remember that, kids

While his and Stella's parents did help arranging her and Stolas together, it was actually originally his idea to get them married. Just so he could have a chance of getting the Goetia throne

Andrealphus has made it explicitly clear to Stella that if she even thinks about divorcing Stolas, she'll regret it. And she doesn't, and he plans to keep it that way

Vassago

Vassago is a kindhearted and energetic bird.

Growing up, he always admired Stolas and loved everything about him. His looks, his intelligence, etc. Vassago has always wanted the young prince's attention and would try everything to get it, but Stolas just wouldn't pay him any mind. Discouraged, Vassago would stop his attempts at getting his attention and just stayed in the background. No point in trying to get acknowledgment if it'll never happen, right?

... Until something strange happens. So a conversation with a friend, they started to reminisce about Vassago's old crush on Stolas. Vassago was forced to laugh and joke along despite never losing his feelings

And the next day Stola came up to Vassago and started to... talk to him???? And make jokes???? AND COMPLEMENT HIM????? It doesn't occur to Vassago thinks about how it's a little strange that Stolas started talking to him only after the day where they were talking about his crush, but he ends up paying no mind to it. He's just being paranoid after all

[strawberry-cowmilk]

the brothers when they realise mc will die one day

-> brothers x mc

a/n: it's been a good minute since I wrote actual ultimate painful angst so here you go while I wait for my hot makeup sponge soap soup to help me clean the things

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

content warnings: angst, death, crying, sports injury

-----

Lucifer

he was peacefully listening to a new record he got with you next to him

lucifer was a great fan of this certain composer so he started to talk a little about the music and the meaning behind it

'the composer wrote this piece for their deceased partner-' he suddenly went quiet once he realised he will be like the composer one day

you had already fallen asleep to hear what he said, lucifer carefully pressed you close, afraid of waking you up and afraid of the day you'll leave him

Mammon

mammon was very bored since lucifer took away his card as a punishment, so he decided to watch tv

he was just browsing the channels and ended up watching the news

mammon was already upset about not having his card, and all the depressing stuff on the news made him more sad, and one certain report hit him with the reality that humans die way before demons

tears stung at his eyes as he instantly called you, asking where you are and if you're willing to cuddle him

Leviathan

he got a new game off of akuzon and you're playing it together

it just happens that you're absolutely terrible at this game so you keep dying every two minutes

it was funny at first, you and levi were laughing about it until he suddenly went quiet and started crying

before you could ask him what happened he hugged you and started begging you to not die for real

it took some while for him to calm down a little, you're his (only) friend, how will he live without you?

Satan

he was working on a group rad project with solomon, eventually he started talking about how he accidentally made himself immortal

eventually satan demanded to know how he did it, and he was pretty angrily asking too, during the conversation he realised you are not immortal (unlike solomon)

the prof literally had to separate them because satan was getting too angry

satan wasted no time, he went to look for you so he can spend time with you and forget his awful thoughts

Asmodeus

there was some fashion week event in the devildom and some high fashion brand asked asmo to model for them (he accepted)

but on the day of the event, it got cancelled

asmo was not pleased with this, but you told him it's ok and you can watch him on the catwalk next time he gets invited, but the thing is that probably won't be until another 500 years-

he realised there's a very good chance you won't be alive for the next time, he cried and clung to you, denying reality

Beelzebub

beel was playing the finals of his fangol game and things were getting very serious, there were players getting tackled left and right pretty badly

his mind started to drift away from the game for a while, and remembered that time you asked him to play with you

but if you, a human, were on this field, you'd probably get badly injured, or worse

the coach had to get a time out because the team's got beel literally crying his eyes out on the bench

the team won, but beel is not in the mood for celebrating

Belphegor

it just randomly hit him

he was looking at the stars next to you in the planetarium and something about the stars today made him think about everything, and eventually the fact that humans don't live long compared to demons

he turned to you, said something along the lines of 'don't go' and curled up against you, falling asleep

belphie needed to give himself a good dream right now otherwise he feels like he won't be able to handle it now

[softspokendove]

Ghostface Matt

pairings: bsf!matt sturniolo x female!reader

summary: matt told you he wouldn’t be coming to the Halloween party, says it wasn’t really his scene. But when he secretly shows up to surprise you in a ghost face costume he can’t help himself from taking advantage of the concealed identity.

warnings: smut, knife play, dry humping, lil bit of stalking, degrading, crazy matt kinda, reader has a little bit to drink but is NOT drunk (fully consensual smut), blowjob f!receiving, Matt gets pussy drunk, choking, name calling (slut, whore, etc), overstimulation, p in v (no condom).

a/n: I know I’m a little late to kinktoper and everything, but I really wanted to try writing something like this, enjoy!

This is a part one! Part two is up and posted!

Matt has been brushing you off all day and giving you attitude about the littlest things. His original plan was to show you his new costume hours before the party would start, seeing your reaction and having a laugh before he’d drive you both there.

But the longer he thought about it the more he didn’t want to show you, he wanted to surprise you. He wanted to see your eyes widen and a shocking gasp escape your mouth. He wanted you to not be able to take your eyes off of him.

He knows he’s your best friend, he shouldn’t think like this. He just can’t help it. Seeing you almost everyday in your pretty dresses and skirts. Watching you do your makeup, when you’d apply your lipstick he’d feel his pants begin to tighten.

He’s wanted to tell you for so long, how needy he was for you. How hot and bothered he’d get when seeing you wear one of his shirts. Him having to sneak out to the bathroom to relieve himself in the middle of the night when you’d come to sleepover. Most nights he’d catch himself saying your name in his sleep. It’s was so wrong. He felt terrible.

“Matt! Look do you like it?” You were dressed up as one of your favorite characters from one of your shows. The clothing hugged you perfectly in all the right places, leaving little to the imagination. You gave Matt a knee buckling smile, waiting to hear his opinion.

“You’re wearing that to the party?” His tone made your smile drop a bit, looking down at your attire to see what was wrong with it. You looked great and you felt great. You were hoping that when you showed your best friend the outfit it’d get him out of his bad mood. You don’t know what caused it or if it was you, but everything you said today Matt gave you some nasty response. He was barely even bothered to look you in the eyes most of the day

“What’s wrong with it?” Matt felt his heart clench at the sadness in your voice, the spark in your eyes that were just there a second ago now gone. He hated acting this way. Every part of him just wanted to jump up and hug you, apologizing for every dick move he’d pulled earlier today.

He couldn’t. He needed to stick to the plan.

Instead of replying he just runs his tongue over his top teeth and looks away, clearly not liking the outfit just not wanting to say it. You scoff, pissed off by his behavior, “I’m wearing it, thanks a lot for being a good friend. See you later,” You turn around and pick up your purse, “asshole.” You mutter the curse word but make sure it was loud enough for him to hear. You slam his bedroom door shut, making his two brothers give you a concerned look when you walk through the living room and out the front door.

Something about the way Matt has been treating you all day has really ticked you off. He’s never done this before. Usually he’d sit there and compliment everything about you when you asked for his opinion on an outfit. He always made you feel comfortable in whatever you wore. He’s never talked to you in a nasty way, always keeping his voice sweet and gentle when talking to you and only you.

You feel your body heat up as you get more angry about the situation. As you arrive to the party you immediately head to the kitchen and start pouring yourself alcohol. You need this. You need to have a good time tonight. You need to take your mind off of Matt.

Matt sighs in relief when he finally finds the right house, he’s taken the wrong turn three times now. Before heading out of the car he puts his mask on, adjusting it till it sits perfectly, and grabbing the knife on the seat beside him.

Matt knows how much you love ghost face. More specifically how much you want to fuck ghost face. When he saw the costume at the store he just had to get it. He thought to make things more exciting that he wouldn’t buy a fake knife, instead he’d bring a real one.

He walks through the crowd of people, pushing away at any girl that try’s pulling him to the side. His eyes scan everywhere in the house, desperately trying to find you.

He walks into the kitchen and sees you chugging down liquid out of a red solo cup. Your friend cheers you on and then pours you another. Matt feels a swell feeling pour in his chest at the scene of your friend trying to get you drunk and you letting them do so. Don’t you care that something might happen to you? You think that he isn’t here and you’re still doing something so careless?

It’s a good thing he did show up. You need someone to protect you. You need someone that will always be keeping an eye on you. You need him. And that thought alone makes his grip on the knife grow tighter.

A boy walks up to you and starts talking. He goes on about how pretty you look and how he’s never seen someone like you in his life. It’s quite flattering honestly, but you just give a small smile and thank him. Your mind still clouded with thoughts of Matt, the alcohol providing no help.

Matt feels his jaw clench as the boy reaches out his hand and leaves it there for you to take, which you hesitantly slide your hand on his and let him lead you to the dance floor. The song playing is a sexual one, leading most people on the floor to be all up on one another. The boy puts his hand on your hip and pulls your body towards his leaving no room between you two.

Matt feels his face go hot, his breathing becoming erratic, and his feet having a mind of their own as they walk forward. Matt clicks on the voice changer that’s in the mask to hide his voice as he comes up to you.

“Wanna dance?” Your eyes widen at the familiar voice from the scream movies and turn to see non other than ghost face himself. You instinctively pull away from the boy in front of you and turn your full attention to the taller figure.

“Woah. That’s so cool!” Your face forms into a giddy smile and you check out the whole costume head to toe. Matt feels himself smile at your contagious happiness, until the other boy speaks up. “You mind? We’re kind of busy.”

The boy reaches out to grab your wrist but Matt swiftly moves his body in front of yours towering over the boy. “Put your hands on her again and I’ll cut them off.” He raises the blade up towards his face and moves it around slightly causing a glimmer on the blade, signifying that it was real. The boy just stumbles backwards and then heads back to his group of friends.

Matt turns around to face you and sees your eyes on the blade as well, your face isn’t one of shock or fear, it’s more of curiosity and excitement. He knew you’d like it.

“Come with me.” He intertwines his fingers with yours, leading you upstairs and into an empty bedroom. As he shuts and locks the door he sees you begin to take off your shoes. His eyebrows furrow in confusion under the mask and he slips his knife into his back pocket. You look back up at him and smirk as you start to pull off your top.

You were never one to do a random hookup, especially at a party. But the way he talked to that boy earlier and how nice he looks in that robe, you can’t help the wet patch that begins to grows on your underwear.

“What are you doing?” Matt’s brain circuits when he sees you standing right in front of him, in just a bra and your bottoms, lust present in your eyes which you practically undress him with.

It might have been the alcohol talking but you just couldn’t hold back anymore. You needed to clear your mind and finally feel good for once. “C’mon ghost face isn’t this what you want? I know it’s what I want. I want to feel your hands all over me. Your knife running down my body. Your cock inside of me.” You run your hand down his chest and then his stomach feeling him flinch as you get lower.

“If you make me cum I’ll let you cum inside of me.” Matt’s cock twitches against his jeans. His mind flips like a switch at what you want from him. He’s been waiting for this for ages and now you want it. You want him.

Matt puts his hands on your waist and leads you backwards towards the bed. He pushes you down onto the soft material and leans his body on top of yours. His hands begin to roam freely around your body, squeezing your sides, playing with your tits, cupping your pussy.

Your body screams with need, desperately needing him everywhere. You trap his body between your legs letting your cunt rub against his boner which causes a small moan from you and a grunt from the man above you.

Matt pushes his body deeper into you, and moves his body back and forth. Allowing both of you to seek pleasure in his movements.

“Ah fuck.” The voice from the mask makes your pussy clench around nothing as more liquid seeps out and into your underwear. You bite your lip wanting something to put your lips on. You go to move the mans mask but he grabs your hand stopping you.

“Please. I want to kiss you.” The man doesn’t release his grip for a minute, just thinking of what to do next. He wants to kiss you so bad, he’s been dreaming about it. He just doesn’t want you to see who he is, not yet. He grabs the bottom of the mask and brings it up a few inches, allowing his lips and neck to be on display.

You bring your hands up to his cheeks and bring his face down smashing your lips upon his. The kiss was needy and hungry. You push your tongue out to his bottom lip, quietly asking for more. Which he gladly accepts and opens his mouth, both of your tongues leaping out and sliding against each other. You whine at the feeling of Matt wrapping his hand around your throat. He tightens his hold on you and turns your head in the process allowing him deeper access into your mouth.

Your hand reflexively holds onto his wrist that’s around your throat, but making your lower body grind harder against his.

Matt leans back, breaking the kiss. Your lips follow his seeking for more, your eyes opening when they don’t connect with his. He lets go of your throat to use both hands to pull your bottoms off. He chuckles at the wet patch growing on your underwear, “Dirty little slut letting a stranger do this to you.”

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the knife. Your breath hitches in your throat and you try to close your legs, his hand stops you from doing so and pulls them back open. He moves his leg to hold down your leg and his hand to hold down your other leg, “I don’t think so sweetheart. You’re going to let me do whatever I want to you.”

Your heart races and you love it; the adrenaline of letting a stranger do this stuff to you. You feel a cold sensation slowly run down your body and you hiss. Looking down to see the man’s hand holding the knife against your boob, down to your nipple, and then lower. As he reaches your panties he brings the blade of the knife against the fabric, cutting open the material enough so he can see your glistening folds.

“You look so pretty.” He moves the knife and presses it against your clit, the coldness making you jump. He lays down the knife so he can use his finger to rub down your cunt. His finger gets covered in your slick and he brings it up to his mouth, inserting it inside and tasting you.

“Mm god you taste so good.” Before you have time to process his words he picks you up, lays himself flat on the bed, and brings you up to his face. Your cunt dripping down onto him, but your cunt not quite touching his lips yet.

You’ve never had a man let you ride him, let alone a man you just met. You try pulling away afraid you might crush him. Matt gets annoyed by this and uses his hands on your hips to slam you down onto his tongue. You let out a high pitch moan at the new sensation of his wet tongue licking a stripe up your cunt and then sucking on your clit.

One of your hands braces yourself on the headboard and the other holds on tight to his arm on your waist. He gives you a particular harsh suck which cause you to moan and slightly grip him harder, Matt groans back in response sending more vibrations and pleasure up your body.

He starts rocking your body back and forth over his mouth, getting you started on a good rhythm. After he feels your body take the lead and continue the pace, he takes two of his fingers and rubs them in a circle at the entrance of your cunt before inserting them inside you.

He hears your moans picking up louder as he starts thrusting his fingers into you. You sound even better than he could’ve imagined and your pussy tastes so fucking good he could lay here all night, swallowing every single drop your pussy provided him.

Your pussy clenches around his digits feeling a cold metal on his pinky finger than is laying against your thigh. You look down and see the ghost face mask still present on his face, his lips hidden from view and inside your pussy.

Matt is trying to keep his eyes open and remember the look of your face being in pure bliss by him, but the taste of your pussy is too intoxicating. He closes his eyes and starts entirely focusing on fulfilling his hunger.

You feel his tongue movement get more rapid and he becomes a moaning mess underneath you. it feels so good. His moans against your clit, his fingers continuously pumping in and out of your walls, your pace increasing as you hump his face faster.

“Shit I’m gonna cum.” You let your head fall back and start moaning incoherent words.

Matt hears you but the words don’t make any sense in his head. He just keeps licking and sucking. Feeling your clit pulse in his mouth and your walls tightening around his fingers.

“Fuck I’m gonna-fuck!” You scream out in release as the pressure inside you finally snaps. You slow down your pace but still ride out your high, Matt eating your pussy clean.

“To-too m-much.” Your body spasms in over sensitivity as his abuse doesn’t stop. You conjure up any strength you have and pull yourself off of him. Matt finally letting go and breathing rapidly.

It goes quiet for a moment. The man’s head tilted towards you, staring at you, your legs pushed together while shaking trying to calm down from one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had.

“Give me your arms.” Matt is now standing and unbuckling his belt. You crawl closer to him and give him both of your arms. He takes his belt and wraps it around both of your wrists then tying it.

You stay sitting there while the man unbuttons his jeans and slips them off, his boxers coming down with them. A wet spot full of precum to be seen on them. He leaves his robe and mask on. Pushing you back flat on the bed and moving his body in between your legs. He puts your arms above your head giving him access to your body.

“Gonna make you feel so good.” He rubs his length between your folds, moving lower to your entrance and then slowly pushing forward. You gasp at the stretch and whine when you feel him bottom out. He’s so big and you’re so full.

Matt grunts as he pulls out and pushes back in, your walls are gripping him so tight. He needs to last long, he has to make you feel the best you’ve ever felt. He leans down to your neck and starts leaving marks.

You move your head to the side giving him more room as you open your legs wider for him. You begin to adjust to his size and he can start moving in and out more easily. He leans back up, your neck and chest now proof of what happened tonight. He takes one of your legs and lifts it higher up hitting your insides at a different angle making you squeal.

“Yeah? That feel good?” You give him a pathetic moan and roll your eyes in bliss. You jump when you feel the same cold metal from earlier placed against your neck. “Use. Your. Words.”

You feel your pussy clench around his cock at the new sensation, “feels so good. You fuck me so good ghost face.” In the darkness of the room you can see his lips turn up in a smirk and it makes your stomach flip, Matt feels this and groans.

“Best pussy ever. You’re gonna have to be my personal fuck toy after this. Whenever I need you you’ll give me what a want like a good whore.” You moan at his nasty words and arch your back.

“Take that fucking dick.” He shoves himself impossibly deeper into your cunt, pressing down on your lower stomach to feel himself inside you.

“I can’t - I can’t.” You try moving away from the intense feeling but the man just drags you right back. Moving the knife down your body again but with more pressure this time, “move and I’ll cut you.”

You feel tears prick your eyes as your second orgasm approaches you fast. You wrap both of your legs around his waist, his now free hand flying to your clit to rub circles. Matt can feel you tightening around his dick so tight he can barely keep thrusting in and out. The sound of your juices can be heard with each thrust.

You give one last big scream before squirting all over the man’s cock and his robe. Your entire cunt pulsating so rapidly he has to hurriedly pull out and cum on your stomach.

As you both catch your breaths the man gets up and undoes his belt on your wrists. “I told you I’d let you cum in me.”

Matt just smiles at you and leans down for one last kiss. “I’ll do that next time when you know who I am.”

[uzurimisery]

the space between two bodies. / satosugu x reader / part 1

Warnings: MDNI, happy ending, angst, cheating (not really this is explained in part 2), unhealthy relationships/coping mechanisms, suicidal ideation, depression, smut, no sorcery au, unedited

A/N: I started thinking about Gojo with anxiety and nihilist Geto and then what that looks like in a poly relationship with someone as flawed as they are

part two

“We’re sorry but we’ve decided to go with another candidate now. We will retain your information on file should a more suitable role open up.” 

The email stared back at you, the words on your phone screen blurring as droplets of rain hit it as you read it over for the hundredth time. Today was just another shitty fucked up day in the endless string of shitty fucked up days that had become your life. The third consecutive month of unemployment in a row. At least previously you could get temp jobs but now each day that passed just ate away at you with how useless you felt. 

Pocketing your phone, you pull out a 100 yen coin and put it in the vending machine.

You didn’t even like your old job but Jesus it was like no one was actually hiring. And when you did get an interview, you’d get ghosted afterward. On the rare occasion they didn’t ghost you, you’d receive a rejection letter like this one. It was preferable, you supposed, that your existence and effort were at least acknowledged, no matter how much it stung. Still hurt like a bitch to be told you weren’t good enough. 

Anything would be better than this, fuck you’d take being overworked and underpaid if it felt like you were doing something. This endless cycle of gnawing uncertainty and applications, interviews, followed by rejections. Worse than that you were out of deodorant and trying to find some in Japan was a Herculean effort. 

Yeah, it’s been a shit go and you’re fucking exhausted.

Maybe you’d go be an English teacher like everyone else who moves to Japan. You wouldn’t need a co-teacher so the pay would be better if you were just starting out. Not that you wanted to teach again dear god that was less than ideal. Thank god you had settled status. The thought of having to deal with visa issues at the same time made you feel sick. 

Maybe you could work at a host club. You turned, staring at your reflection in the glass. Your boobs weren’t half bad as you pushed them up from the underside like a push-up bra would. Or sell feet pictures. The market was probably oversaturated at this point but maybe there would be some interest.

Wait Jesus had your hair looked like that all day? Fuck. No wonder that girl kept staring at you on the train she thought you were a lunatic.

Sighing you press the button for 4H. It wasn’t like you’d always been this way, sort of drifting in a sea of uncertainty abroad your boat of doubt with no wind to guide your sails. There was a period of time, maybe a five-year stretch after you had graduated from university where your life was on track. An entry-level job in your degree field, a long-term boyfriend turned fiance, wedding planning, and a great group of friends. Shit, you had it all. 

The fiance was the first to go. 

As it turns out, finding your fiance in bed with the girl he swore you didn’t have to worry about, his tongue halfway down her throat like he’s trying to do an endoscopy, is a terrible way to find out you’re being cheated on. When he noticed you standing in the doorway he had the gall to sputter some bullshit about how it was your fault it happened. You were too focused on your work, you didn’t give him attention, blah, blah, blah. It was you who broke the relationship up by working so much and being married to your job. And as he paid for the overpriced four-bedroom apartment in an area of Tokyo that you didn’t even like, you lost the apartment in the breakup. 

You couldn’t slum dog millionaire your life away on Shoko and Utahime’s couch forever eating tubs of ice cream and binging TV after that, so everyone told you, or rather forced you, to move in with Suguru and Satoru. Bouncing around from couple to couple. It did give you some stability and just as things go up so must they come down. 

The company you were working for was liquidated after an investigation by the federal government found years of tax fraud. Luckily they got bought out, and you thought maybe if you put in work you could still climb the ladder. But all those late nights in the office, conbini dinners, and unpaid overtime, you were just another name on a severance list.

It felt like waves were crashing over you, each one larger than the rest. Almost like you were tied to a dock during a hurricane, a tsunami, or some fucking natural disaster that threatened to drown you if you didn’t hold onto something but there wasn’t much to hold on to. You could hold onto the minuscule amount of friendships that you had at least. It was far too awkward and messy to keep up with anyone else other than your main four since the rest were so tied to your ex-fiance and his life. Stupid fucking lawyer. 

The four of you were close-ish. Less close since Shoko had gone on rotation at a university on the other side of Tokyo. It meant she and Utahime had moved nearer to it since Utahime was willing to commute. But Suguru and Satoru were still close with you and still dating.  Biting as that felt at times. 

You met Geto first in a shared philosophy lecture. One of those run-of-the-mill ones, but the content that really got the two of you talking was nihilism. It was the seminar groups after class you shared where he really saw you. Stripped away of pretenses and your nerves laid bare. Not just another face in a lecture hall but something more, something human. The deep indents of nails in your palms and the rubbing of your hands together under the table. He had seen right through you, recognized the darker parts of himself in you- it made you feel understood.

The machine made a mechanical noise and the lights flickered. Sighing you kick the machine lightly to see if anything happens, if life could give you this one thing today that you so desperately needed. Just like everything else, nothing goes your way and your stupid drink stays logged on the shelf. So like every reasonable person you kick the machine again. 

“Stupid fucking piece of shit machine,” you murmur a growing string of profanities under your breath as you repeatedly kick the machine

.

All you wanted was one of those ¥100 coffee drinks that were loaded with caffeine to keep going through your slog of a day was that so hard? Maybe it would be best if you just packed it up and called it quits. Move back home with your parents and be berated daily. Why aren’t you married? Why did you and Kosuke break up? When are they going to get some grandchildren? They aren’t getting any younger you know. Face the cutting shame of fucking up another opportunity, another chance. 

What was the point in trying anymore when you couldn’t even get a stupid drink that you don't honestly even want at this point out of a vending machine so you can go home and masturbate to audio porn before you cry yourself to fucking sleep? 

Suguru’s voice cut through the spiral of thoughts, your name on his lips. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had an interview and you’d be home late?” 

Of course, he’d catch you like this. 

“Hey Sugs,” it came out as a groan as you kicked the machine again, a loud clang following as your drink hit the bottom of the dispenser. Bending down, you grab the can before turning and facing him. “I did.” 

“How’d it go?”

“Like shit.” Maybe you should work on your delivery. This flat effect is really making you should like a bitch. Are you a bitch? 

Geto’s eyes raked over you, infuriatingly calm and measured. He was always so carefully disheveled, the type of person to look effortlessly put together no matter the occasion. Stupid name-brand black sweater over a white button-down half tucked into chinos with a chain on the belt. His hair, shiny and perfect, was neatly tucked into his signature half-up-hald-down look to keep the strand out of his eyes, minus the one for style. Notably, he was wearing his glasses for once, sleek frames perks on a tall nose. Oh, he smelt nice too, his sandalwood and bergamot cologne hitting you as he stepped closer, extending his umbrella to cover the two of you. Fuck he was so handsome it wasn’t fair.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Geto replied softly.

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “ It is what it is.”

But the reality of it clung to you and drug you down, down, down into the depths of your psyche. That small, scared feeling you tried so hard to suppress started bubbling up again, twisting your insides into knots. It made you feel sick, so much like a lost little child in a world that had grown far too big and complex. Here it was, rearing its ugly head, in front of one of the top ten people you never wanted to see in such a shit state.

But that's all Gojo and Geto do at this point. They pick up the broken, crumbling pieces of yourself that slip between your fingers. You feel like a cracked vase leaking water all over the place no matter how desperately they try and patch up the ceramic. Each day the gap between you and them grows more apparent. They were both soaring and you were falling to the ground and rolling around in the mud. 

Geto had just done a four-page spread in Architects Digest, even though he was a pretentious motherfucker who hated the magazine. And Gojo… God, he’d just opened for Prada at Paris Fashion Week. They went viral on every social media platform a while back for how hot and gay they were. You’d been caught in the crossfire of your accounts being tagged and gained a social media boost, but that also meant a bunch of people DMing you telling you to take pictures of them. 

The most fucked up thing about it all was the gnawing feeling that chewing on your bones that you were being dragged around like an accessory to remind them how good they had it. A permanent third wheel they’ve been stuck with since university. Two talented lovers on the brink of permanent importance and their weird little friend who follows them along like a lost puppy. It wasn’t even true and that's why it hurt so much. You knew they believed in you, thought that you could be a successful artist, and supported you in it even, but the jealousy rotted inside you like a festering wound. You weren’t even jealous of their success, only just partial, but it was like you weren’t good enough to be around them. 

Maybe you were better off as wall decor in the life they were building together. Something quiet and serene that didn’t demand anything from them. Better that than the bitter, jealous mess you were every time you saw them succeed.

He starts, the same spiel he goes to when you get like this. “You can always-”

“No.” your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you don’t care. 

“I don’t know why you act like it’s such a bad off,” Suguru presses, his calm demeanor only pissing you off more.  

“I don’t want to work for you.” 

“Why not.” 

You snap. “Because I don’t want to, Suguru! Is that so hard to understand?”

Fuck, you wanted to storm off, go back to the house, and slam the door behind you as you went. But it didn’t matter if you stormed off, you lived in one of his guest bedrooms. Both of you were just headed to the same place. Sad little rescue that you were.

Suguru assessed, his eyes softened, breaking you down. He picked out every one of your insecurities as he stared at you. Microscopic inspection, each of your cells was being assessed for your state of being. Have you eaten? Was it enough? Had you slept? Are you even capable of taking care of yourself in this state? 

The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten, and before you could control it, try and reel it back in, tears welled up in your eyes. Blinking them back, you swallowed hard, the lump in your throat bobbing as you did. You hated this. Hated the way his care, his pity, felt like a knife twisting in the last remaining shred of pride you clung to. 

Pity was the killy of pride and you should accept that your pride was already decomposing in the septic tank in the backyard. 

Fuck up, fuck up, fuck up. All you ever were, all you’d ever be. Every loose thread of your shirt feels like it's cutting against your skin. The hem of your trousers drowns your feet like you're wearing your parents' clothes. Shabby. Uncouth. Inept. 

Wordlessly, you turned on your heel and fled, rushing out of the side street as the tears spilled past your lash line. You couldn’t do this anymore--no more questions, no more pity. No matter how hard you tried, how hard you struggled, clawed your way through the fucking dirt, you could never be like them. Never be good like theme, never right like them, never fit like them. They had these perfect little lives that they could boast to everyone about. When they spoke, people listened. People cared what they had to say. The world parted for them, it was the Red Sea and they were Moses, making space. There’d always be room for them to shine. 

But you were screaming into a void, your throat raw, bloody, and you were aching from the endless effort to be seen, to be heard. You wanted to be looked at like your own person, your own successes. Hard to be noticed for something that rarely happened. No matter how loud you screamed, how much you begged, your voice was just lost in the noise. 

You knew Suguru would follow. He always did. Even if you didn’t live in the same house, he’d have followed you. His voice was muffled by the pressure in your ears but you could hear him trying to talk to you. He let you get all the way home and inside the gate of the house before he grabbed your wrist and yanked you backward. 

Trying to pull away, your shoulder wrenched painfully as you trashed in his grip. 

“Calm down,” Suguru spoke firmly, pulling you into his chest. His sweater was soft, and your face smushed against the fabric as sobs wrecked your body, trembling like the earth in an earthquake.

It was hard to speak through the tears, so all you could do was try and slip out of his hold as you sobbed. You didn’t want this comfort. You wanted to run from your failure. From how suffocating life felt and that no matter what you'd never be enough. Worse than that, the sweet sickly feeling that trickled down your throat that when he held your life this, it made the world feel just a little bit more bearable. As if somewhere you could survive another day if he kept touching you. It wasn’t yours to feel and he wasn’t yours to hold. 

Suguru lets you wiggle around. You hit his torso a few times, your strength fading as you cry. When your sobs turned to hiccups and gasps for breaths, he gently cupped your face, thumbs brushing away the tears that still spilled from your eyes. 

“Talk to me,” he said softly, barely above a whisper. The songs of a city nearly eclipsing it. 

What could you say? How could you explain this feeling? This horrible guilt, pain, and jealousy ate away at you every single day. The tears came harder now, speeding up as if to help drown you in your misery and take you out of it for good. Hiccuping you drew breath, sharp and quick, hoping to speak but nothing comes out. Words claw at your throat, digging it with sharpened points. It hurts the way they hang onto you.

“Is it all too much again?” His voice is so soft, warm like fleece pajamas fresh out of the dryer as he holds you so delicately.

This wasn’t the first time that one of the three of you had been so consumed by dread, suffocated by the weight of life itself. Suguru knew it all too well himself, from high school to know he held it tightly in his hands. It never went away from him, he just learned to live with it, let it fade into the background, and let a constant hum of despair serve as the baseline for the day-to-day. 

His thumbs brush over the apex of your cheekbones again and the tenderness shatters you, another wave of sobs tearing through you. They pull you under, out into the open ocean, and through their rip current.

“I just..” you start, it scratches your throat, thick with phlegm. “ I can’t do this anymore.” 

His voice remained steady. “Do what?” 

“Any of it. I can’t do it.” 

“You’re capable of it. You can do it.” 

Jarring, rough, whipping across your skin as the rubber band pulls too tight and snaps. You lash out, and it stings where it hits. The anger cuts through your skin like your fingernails leave crescent moons in your palms. 

“No, I fucking can’t!” It's ripped out of you as you stalk away like a wounded animal. “I can’t okay. I can’t do shit. I can’t keep a relationship without being cheated on. I can’t manage to get my own place. I can’t get a fucking job. I can’t sit here and pretend like I’m not fucking wasting away in my own misery watching you and Gojo and Shoko all succeed and be the only one of us still shooting for the stars and coming crashing down to earth every single fucking time. You and Gojo with your perfect little lives look at me like a charity case to be fixed.”

“We have never looked at you like a charity case.” His tone was firm.

“Really? Then what the fuck do you look at me like, huh?” You press the question circling back around. “Is it pity? Did the two of you see some poor stray that you wanted to take in and keep like a pet when we met at university? Is that it?” 

His eyes were hard, unreadable.

“It is that. You pity me.”

“Jesus, no! We don’t pity you- I don’t pity you! Is it so hard to believe that I care about you?”

“Yes, it is! There’s no reason for you to care,” 

“What the hell wouldn’t I care?” Suguru’s voice raised to a shout, frustration cracking his facade. 

“Because I’m just like everyone you hate!” Your chest heaves as you let out a flood of emotions. “ No ambitions, contributing nothing to society, just leeching off others.” 

“You’re not like them.” 

“I am. On paper, I’m exactly like them. The only reason that you’d keep me around is because it makes you feel good to watch me suffer or you pity me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t pity you?” His voice cracked with emotion, but you didn’t stop.

“Then tell me why you care!” It comes out so desperately. You're begging him for understanding, to know why he stays. To know why he lets you in.

For once he looked uncertain. His mask slipped, revealing the cracks in his facade. It’s been so long since you’ve seen underneath it you’d almost forgotten how he looked when he wasn’t pretending to be happy. 

“Or is it that you don’t care?” 

Something flashed in his eyes, flickerings of things you only saw when he looked at Gojo. He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. There's a fear in his eyes, like if he acts in this moment something may crack and crumble like the foundation of a house that leaves him crumpled in a pile of wood. He doesn’t, or won’t, give you an answer. 

So you turn on your heel, the conversation over in your mind, and head to the front door. You’ll go up and pack a bag before heading across town and crashing on Shoko and Utahime’s couch before calling your parents and groveling to them. 

But as you reach the door, Suguru reaches you. His arm wraps around your waist and he spins you around and pushes your back against it. He’s got you pinned. 

“It’s because I love you.” It’s the faintest breeze that passes from his lips, like a car driving past on a hot day, sweat making your shirt stick to you. “I care because I love you.”

Everything is frozen in a still frame. Neither one of you moves, neither one of you breathes. A still moment that holds you tight, threatens to squeeze you so tightly your heart bursts. 

“What do you mean by that?” You swallow as you speak, like pebbles in your throat. 

Suguru blinks back tears, looking up and then back at you. “That I love you. Fuck! I’m in love with you.” 

Disbelief makes your voice shake. “No, you’re not not. You’re with Satoru.” 

“And? I can’t love both of you?” 

“No, you can’t,” Hypocrisy tastes acrid on your tongue. You know damn well you could never pick between the two of them, that this blighted jealousy you feel towards them is more the fact they have the other rather than their success. It’s something you don’t admit but it’s there. “Besides, you’re lying to me.”

“No.” His response was firm and immediate. The whole time you’d known them, their worlds had revolved around each other. They’d been the only thing for each other for so long. It was an unspoken truth that they were made for each other in a way that could only be sewn by the fabric of the universe itself. Something so profoundly and divinely created it had been written in the fabric of life at the moment of the Big Bang. 

“I’ve seen you watching.” Suguru’s tone is low, cutting, it vibrates through you as he has you pinned. 

A sick, icy dread wraps around your spine. It starts in your toes and crawls up your body. Your muscles lock in place as it climbs up until it's all the way in your head. Paralyzing fear grips you.

“I don't…” The lie is transparent before it comes to fruition. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s brittle, cracking on your teeth as it passes through them.

“Don’t play innocent.” Suguru’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. The tension between you tightens and winds up to pitch, but there's a current that punctuates it. One that feels heady and warm. One that excites you in the same way it embarrasses you. “I’ve seen you watching. I’ve seen you for years. The first time, maybe it was a mistake. But last week? Three weeks before that?”

Your mouth went dry, choking on the excuse that tried to bubble up. Like finely ground chalk powder coasted every surface of it. “I—”

He cuts you off before you can even try to defend yourself. “I know you get off on it too. Leave your curtains open while you touch yourself. Saying his name, my name.”

Horror twists inside you like a knife, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. You’d always been so careful, never acting when you thought they were home. Never want to risk exactly this happening. Your face burned like you drank half a liter of vodka in a go. Maybe you’d wake up and realize this was a nightmare. The humiliation was unbearable. 

“Imagine my surprise,” Suguru continues in a low chuckle, left hand slotting perfectly against your waist, “when I came home early one day and saw that.” 

The tears that had stopped in your flash of anger spill hot and fast down your cheeks. The raw, hot shame and embarrassment muddle you. It makes you want a sinkhole to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You can’t meet his gaze, your vision blurry. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll move out.” you stammer out, the words falling in a chopping spiccato, desperate to create space between the two of you. You’d never be able to face him again. 

“Who said anything about moving out?” Suguru comes, pulling you closer to him till you're flush against his chest. He bends down, breath tickling your ear. You feel the sharp pressure of his teeth grazing the shell of it, a jolt going through your body. “You don’t get to leave now.” Pulling back, he meets your eyes in a half-lidded gaze. 

Both of you are playing the game again. Looking for something unspoken, some cryptic clue you need to decipher. He was searching for discomfort, disgust, anything to make him draw back and stop. You searched for understanding, dissecting how it got to this point. Every moment, every glance, every touch from him that you had ever overlooked. 

He always held a soft glint in his eyes when he looked at you. Something subtle, normally reserved for Satoru. It warmed the edge of his voice when he spoke and crinkled the corners of his eyes when he smiled. There was that softness for Shoko, but it was different. The one he had for you was a more reserved, pulled-back, and dialled-down version of what gripped him when he looked at Satoru. He had always viewed you this way.

The times you sat sandwiched between him and Gojo, your legs brushing against him, his arm slung around your shoulders to reach Satoru. Pulling you against him on the train, in clubs, at parties, the bump of your hips against his own. Compliments when you wore flattering, his pushing Satoru to dress you up. He liked it best when you were in shorter dresses and skirts with tights. 

Suguru had always wanted you, but you had failed to notice. 

Instinct took over before reason could temper it. You pushed off the door, your hands flying to the loose part of his hair at the nape of his neck. The strands feelt just as silky an shiny as they look between your fingers. Without hesitation, the space between you two diminishes. You aren’t sure who closes the distance first, but your lips lock hungry. Teeth knocking against each other as you both desperately cling to the other. It's rough and aggressive, both of you starved animals feasting on flesh. The taste of copper spreading in your mouth as he bit down on your lip making you whine. His breathing becomes your own, heady mix of desire and dark, primal urge..

His tongue pushes against yours, taking advantage of your now open mouth, wet and warm brushing against the back of your teeth, laying claim to your mouth. Geto was dominating in all aspects of his life so it was unsurprising that he set the pace and led you to where he wanted to be. He moved your legs up, patting your ass to jump, to then wrap around his waist as he pressed you against the door. You grind your hips against his growing erection as he holds you there, and you can feel the heat of him even through his pants.

Suguru pulls away panting. His eyes are half closed, lips blushed a beautiful red and damp with saliva. He moves in again, this time to your neck, where he bites down hard. You squirm as he sucks a dark and angry mark, his mark, on your skin. The bite of his teeth against your skin feels right. It eats away at the jealous monster inside you every second he’s latched onto you.

Fed up with the door, Suguru opens it and carries you through the threshold. He moves the two of you through the genkan, toeing off his shoes while you kick your own off, and into the living room where he drops you on the couch. There’s an air about him, so intense it’s nearly oppressive, as his fingers inch up underneath your sweater, sliding it off of you. It’s a predator circling their prey, the success of a hunt now that he’s got you on your back against the soft fabric of the couch. He’d been waiting for this far longer than you thought and it spurs you on.

Suguru moves in tandem with you, tugging off his sweater and button-up shirt, exposing his happy trail. The dark dusting of hair makes your mouth water. Once his shirt is off, his hands cover your chest through your bra, palming your tits like stress balls. It's unpadded and lacey, and it lets him feel as if your nipples get hard. He pushes the cups down, leaving them to rest under your breasts, and pushes them up slightly, accentuated by your being on your back.

His fingertips close around your nipples as he pinches and pulls at them. You knew how much of a sadist he could be. One night you watched him edge Satoru for an hour straight. Seen how hot he looked with Gojo in his mouth as he writhed around. A sweet moan escaped you as he played with your nipples and rolled his hips against yours. It makes your head feel fuzzy, thoughts focusing purely on him. His weight presses down on you, so heavy and right it makes you ache.

You lunge forward, propping yourself up on your elbows to kiss him again. It’s just as messy and hungry as before, years of built-up desire between the two of you saturating your every pore. It settles in your bones that pulses in time with your heart. 

Suguru doesn’t separate from you, but he slides your trousers and underwear off in one go as you kick your socks off. He tugs his own off hastily, boxer briefs following in turn. His public hair is trimmed, a close crop like you’ve seen it before. Like every other aspect of him, it’s neatly maintained, put into its place, and kept there. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he pulls your hips up by his head. Your back is half off the sofa as he places your legs over his shoulders and parts your core with his fingers. He blows cold air onto your clit that makes you squirm before he licks your clit. Moaning, you try to grind yourself against his face but his hands tighten on your hips, holding them firm. You’d get what he wanted to give you. Fight against it and get nothing, or accept it. 

He was slow to start. His tongue lazily explores you, getting familiar with your taste. It pushed against your clit, wide and flat, before swirling his tongue around it. The ball of his tongue piercing rubbed against the most sensitive part of you. Your hips jerk forward and he looks up, a warning in his eyes, but he doesn’t stop. Suguru curls his tongue again, this time moving it side to side, letting his piercing catch on your clit purposefully.  Every action he takes is measured as he picks up speed while latching his lips around it to add delicious suction. Two of his fingers slide inside you, reaching far deeper than your own ever could. He pumps them in and out of you, driving you closer to the edge.

You felt your pussy drooling, liquid gushing out and covering his chin. The muscles in your abdomen tightened with each passing second until you swore they'd cramp. It was all too much as you came, jerking and contracting in on yourself. Black spots dot your vision as your world shakes on this axis. 

Sugru watched as you came, pulling back from your pussy to stare at your face. His eyes never left yours as he rubbed soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He could cover nearly all of you with how big his hands were, warm and calloused. Minus a cold spot on his left hand. 

His engagement ring. 

The silver felt like it burned your skin as he smiled at you and planted a kiss on your inner thigh. It glimmers in the low light, bouncing light off like a homing beacon. Bubbling sickness, bile rising in your throat, disgust palming at your skin. What had you just done? You’ve just violated a boundary so gigantic with Suguru. Let your own selfish need for intimacy lead you to this. He was engaged to your best friend. They were getting married next year.

You rushed to grab your clothes, panic surging through you. The world spins around you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you buttoned up your trousers, throwing your sweater on. Your hair is a mess and your skin feels clammy and flushed. The need to vomit is overwhelming. “This was a mistake.”

Suguru’s rising from the couch, trying to grab you, stopping you from moving but you dodge his hand. “A mistake?” 

Your left hand meets your mouth as you bite the nail of your thumb. It clicks against your front teeth. 

“Satoru won’t mind-” 

“A mistake Suguru,” You shake your head, bending down and grabbing the rest of your stuff. “Please. Just forget this.” Without waiting for his reply, you run up the stairs and slam the door behind you. 

You really are a bitch.

©️ uzuzrimisery

[eclecticmiasma]

Hello! Good evening!

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Mithrun and I had a small scenario pop up in my head, and it would be lovely to see your vision on how this would play out, please and thank you 💕:

AFAB!Elf!reader is a member of the canaries, very soft spoken and rather kind. The nicest, most likely. Against her better judgement she’s down bad for the captain and everyone else is like “pls no I’d rather you not”. (She can fix him/jk)

Mithrun realizes she has feelings for him and in a very subtle way treats her a little more gentle than the others. Lets her spoil him a tiny bit more. Listens to her a bit more.

Reader can only hope one day maybe…just maybe…the captain can show a little interest in her too 🥺 and is oblivious that he lets her get away with a little more than others

Just very soft feelings all over

I won't spoil it for those who haven't read the manga, but there are instances where we see Mithrun treat Kabru rather favorably and opening up in great detail about his past. In a side story, we also see that younger Mithrun cared for the other canaries quite a bit. I imagine that even without his desires, Mithrun would appreciate care shown to him in his own Mithrun-y way.

SFW

Mithrun might be adverse to you at first, because when he really looks inward you remind him of his younger self.

However, Mithrun would soon come to see that you don't have the same...pitfalls in your personality that brought him where he is today. He might even come to somewhat admire your ability to stay genuinely kind in a world like theirs.

The other canaries start to notice that you have a much easier time getting their leader to take an ounce of care in his own well-being than any of them ever have. Some of them think it's entertaining while others (Pattadol) think the favoritism is unnacceptable.

Cithis might tease him about it if you aren't around, "We don't want to worry poor [y/n] by getting all dehydrated now, do we captain?"

Even the mention of your name is enough to motivate Mithrun, though you remain completely unaware. In your mind, the captain regards you as nothing more than a subordinate.

You don't notice the way his good eye trains on you as you talk about life before the canaries. You don't realize how fast he falls asleep when you're near. The magnitude of the fact that one night he voluntarily tells you a story about when he and his brother were children slips by you completely.

Pattadol is the only one to ever bring it up to you directly, and you truly have no idea what she's talking about. None of the others help her either, preferring to sit back and watch how her face reddens with frustration.

Mithrun isn't oblivious to the situation, however. He knows that there's something about you that...calms him, at the very least. He's sharp enough to know that you feel the same way about him, perhaps even stronger.

He likes having you around. It's not something he wants when you're gone, but it's something he enjoys while you're there. Because he knows you have some type of feelings for him, he indulges you at every turn. He even lets you wash his back and massage the scarred tissue built at the tips of his ears- though you're terribly relieved he can't see the heat rising on your cheeks as you do so.

One day, long long after the dungeoneering is done, perhaps you might even be able to help Mithrun find his desires, find himself again.

*do not post elsewhere without explicit permission. please consider reblogging, as Tumblr tends to hide adult content!

[RULES] [MASTERLISTS] [AO3] [KO-FI]

[dubina-dawkins]

STRESS

~850 words

>After long missions Ben is obviously stressed. What else can you do if not help him?

warnings/notes: smut, minors dni! oral (m receiving), female reader but there aren't many real descriptions other than calling reader a "heroine", no usage of y/n, no proofread I'm gonna die, ben is being canonically really rough, but there's just a bit of his softer side i wish was there in canon so maybe ooc, supe!reader, reader is a second captain of payback (like starlight in the third season but no parallels between starlight & homelander and reader & soldier boy)

REBLOGS WILL BE APPRECIATED!

It hadn't been a hard day, not even a hard week, it had been going on for a hell of a long time. Everyone was on edge, even Tessa and Tommy were exhausted, and if all those missions, he filming of that stupid movie Legend had insisted on, could exhaust the twins, whose energy had always burned like dynamite, pun intended, then obviously no one had any energy at all.

People deal with stress in different ways. Some people try to abstract themselves from society - that's what Mindstorm did, and something in you told him that if he missed one more training session, then as soon as his coat even looms in Soldier Boy's peripheral vision, Dan would be dead.

Some were trying to forget themselves in training, and some were trying to beat the crap out of them in training. And you, as co-captain of this incorrigible team, as a supe who still had some humanity left in her, it was unbearably painful to watch Ben take it out on the others. But not at you, of course. Of course not at you, you were fucking special.

For instance, you were special when you sat between his legs in the meeting room.

No, don't think anything terrible, Ben wasn't the kind of man who would force a woman to do something like that, after all, he may have been a bastard, a misogynist and...a lot of other bad things, but he was a real man of his time - or at least he thought he was. In his opinion, it was much more manly to get a woman to fall at his feet - in this case, literally.

No, it's just that after he almost smashed Black Noir's head on the table during today's meeting, you had no doubt that he could use some stress relief.

And who, if not the second captain of the Payback, America's No. 1 heroine, on a par with the Statue of Liberty, could help him, America's greatest hero, become even a little more forgiving? The answer was obvious: no one. Did you do it out of fear, Stockholm syndrome, or because the only humanity left in you somehow cherished the bastard? It wasn't that important. Not now, anyway.

Not when his big hand was clutching your hair, painfully pulling back and literally slamming your head into his lap again and again. His cock slammed into your throat with a sharp and tremendous pressure, and somewhere through the veil of your own pleasure in the process you could hear his absolutely animalistic growl. Well, knowing that you could bring him to such a primitive state fueled so much pride in your chest that you obviously grew bolder.

You could grip his shaft lightly with your teeth, which made your hair pull back especially hard, forcing you to let go of his length from your mouth. You only laughed, and Ben only feigned annoyance.

And just a few moments after that, he's back to exhaling your name gutturally, stretching the "r" sound especially hard when he says you're his "good girl". And soon enough, Ben's grip on your curls tightens, and he's moving your head at an unsteady pace in pursuit of his pleasure alone. You suppress your gag reflexes, because to your great surprise, not only he likes it, but you as well. You were definitely a masochist.

His growls, guttural moans, and sloppy grunts mingled with your whimpers and the wet slapping of your face against his heated skin. How strange was it that you were ready to cum now without even touching your needy slit with your fingertips, just from the feel of his huge length in your mouth? It was probably very strange, but you didn't have that thought in your head, or any other, God, Ben had literally fucked the shit out of your brain, because all your sick mind was thinking about was his voice, his face, his hands, just fucking him. Thrust, thrust, another thrust--

He stops abruptly, apparently not wanting to end it like this. Soldier Boy lets go of your hair, pats your head approvingly (a rare sign of tenderness on his part!) and then takes up the locks again to lift your face off his still-hard cock, glistening in a mixture of pre-ejaculate and your saliva. He grins smugly, taking your chin with his finger. Judging by the fact that he's even allowed himself that smirk, some of his stress is already gone. But this is not enough.

"Get up, love. And sit on the table," he growls, lifting you off your lap as you almost hit your head on the edge of the table, and Ben lowers himself to you, pressing his lips dangerously close to yours in a scalding kiss. His lips taste gross, a mixture of expensive whiskey, weed, and smoke, but you grasp the taste with your whole life line. But before you can even open your mouth to his tongue, Ben soon pulls away, biting your bottom lip.

"I'm not going to end this with you so easily."

a/n: of course know this man is huge asshole and i hate him with all of my heart but your honor he's played by jensen ackles so he can be pardoned. idk what was the last time i written smut tbh

[unclewaynemunson]

I definitely think it takes Eddie a while to accept that Steve changed. He remembers what he was like in high school.

When Steve asks him out, for whatever reason, Eddie says yes. But he’s determined not to fall in love, because deep down Harrington’s still a dick. But he’s cute, and Eddie can smile and play pretend.

But then! Steve goes full happy relationship mode, he tells Robin (obv), introduces Eddie to the other adults as his bf, and is just generally being sweet.

MY SWEET ANON I HOPE YOU'LL STILL SEE THIS!!!

I'm so sorry it took me ages to answer this one! But I really loved the idea of this (the good ol' steddie + misunderstanding about what they mean to each other with a dash of terrible communication skills my beloved) so i wanted to give it my proper attention, which i didn't have enough time for over the past few months. Buuut the words have finally found their way to my keyboard so here is the first part of what probably will turn into a 3-part ficlet, I hope it's something like what you had in mind when you sent this ask to me <3

---

Eddie has been acting weird all day. Maybe Steve is too much of a romantic, but he can't help it: he wanted to celebrate this day. Exactly a month ago, he asked Eddie out. And it's been good. They've spent a lot of time together. They've been on lots of dates, spent plenty of nights together... But today, things are different, somehow. Eddie is different. He turned Steve down for a dinner date, he didn't stop by Family Video during lunchtime, and when Steve shows up at the trailer to surprise him with flowers, he merely frowns and pulls back from their kiss before it can even properly get started.

'Everything alright?' Steve asks, trying to catch his boyfriend's gaze – which isn't exactly easy with how Eddie is turning away from him to not-so-gently put the flowers down in a corner of the trailer's living room.

'Yeah, sure,' Eddie mumbles, not really looking at him. 'It's just – I didn't really expect to see you today. We didn't have plans.'

Steve chuckles, trying to get the tension out of his chest. 'Didn't know I was expected to schedule an appointment before coming here.' He tries to play it off as a joke, but the tone of his voice doesn't really want to cooperate.

Eddie finally turns back towards him and Steve catches the end of an eye-roll.

'I'm just not feeling too great today, alright?' It sounds a bit stiff and Steve pauses. He wonders if he did something wrong, if he somehow invaded Eddie's space – even though he has showed up at the trailer on countless evenings in the past month.

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' Eddie answers, a little bit too fast. 'I told you, I'm not feeling so well.'

And now that he can see his face properly, Steve notices that Eddie is indeed looking paler than usual.

'Hey, don't worry about it,' he says. 'I can stay to take care of you, if you want to. We don't have to do anything. You can go to bed early and I'll keep you company. I can make you some soup, read to you... You could've just told me you're not feeling good, you know. I would've picked up some fruit on my way over here and stopped by the library for you.'

'You don't have to do any of that, Steve.'

Steve tries to ignore the fact that it's been ages since Eddie has last called him by his official first name. He doesn't like the sound of it.

'But I want to,' he says instead. He takes a step towards Eddie, lifts his arms to wrap them around him – but Eddie swats his arms away before he can properly embrace him.

'Don't.' He sounds cold and detached, so different from how he usually sounds. 'Don't act like this is something it isn't.'

'Like this is something –' Steve echoes, completely caught off-guard by this turn of events. 'Like what?'

'Jesus Christ, you really don't know when to stop, do you?'

'What?' He takes a stumbling step backwards, driven away by the force in Eddie's words.

'We're not – like that,' Eddie stutters out. 'We're just fucking around, aren't we? So you don't need to pretend. You don't need to bring me flowers. You don't need to take care of me when I'm sick. You don't owe me anything, alright? You can go home.'

Steve takes another step backwards, until his back collides with the door of the trailer. He blindly grabs the door handle behind him.

'Alright,' he says, trying desperately not to let his voice tremble audibly. 'I hear you, loud and clear. I'll – I'll leave you alone, then.'

Read pt2 here (Edit: it's actually 5 parts now. You can read the whole thing on ao3 here)