#eat that shit up pleaseeeeee

[istherewifiinhell]

if there are 10 million dino bot likers i am one of them etcetc

dino bot defender. they are literally correct in everything they say. they really are only called upon when they need to save everybodys asses. pro dino bot liberation. pretty fucked up to go make new life and say its part of your war and also find it difficult to interact with because of how you made it!

every episode with the dino bots a banger.

[emmyrosee]

 Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused.  Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫

THIS IS SO CUTEEEE-

Bro this is so long yaLL GET A SNACK- I never had a senior prom this is my venting PFFFFF-

I do want to make a disclaimer! To make this fic work I had to go and use an American based school system, where traditionally seniors are 18, can drive, and eat in cafeterias. For those about to comment my inaccuracies, thank you!

—-

Sukuna has been a little more than preoccupied lately.

He, who once would spend every afternoon driving you and yuuji home, who would blast your favorite music and take you to McDonald’s for a soda, has been more than busy with someone new.

You don’t know where she came from, hell you’ve known the two of them for years, yet this is the first you’ve ever really heard of the being known as Uraume.

“They’ve actually been friends for years,” yuuji had told you. “I’m surprised you never really met her- though she’s pretty shy. Only close with sukuna, honestly.”

Yeah. Real close.

Within just a few weeks, Uraume has snagged your place as Sukuna’s number one. No longer does he stand outside your class to carry your books to the next. Your front seat privileges go to her. He plays her favorite songs. He drops you off at home before taking her to god knows where to do god knows what. And yuuji is blind to this change, merely glad his best friend is sitting in the back seat with him, all the while it tears you up on the inside.

And it isn’t until you catch a beefy hand shift to hold Uraume’s that you realize it’s over. Your heart shatters, your lip wobbles, and you turn your body to face away from the disgusting sight.

“You okay?” Yuuji asks, gently nudging you with the tips of his fingers, and when you look up to peek at Sukuna’s frame once again, you catch his eyes looking at you in the rear view. You sigh and turn your gaze away.

“What’s wrong, brat?” He asks, and you could throw up when Uraume turns in her seat to look at you too.

She looks genuinely concerned, and you could punch her for it.

“Just… take me home, Sukuna,” you murmur.

“But we’re getting pizza!” Yuuji whines. “I don’t want you to miss out!”

You smile and gently pat his leg, “don’t worry about me, yuuji. I’m just getting car sick.”

Car sick enough you don’t car pool with him anymore.

You’re back to taking the bus, curled on your seat to stay out of other people’s way, leaving home about 45 minutes earlier than you would’ve with Sukuna. It makes you skip breakfast and washing your face, barely giving you enough time to get into clean clothes and head off onto the day.

But it’s better than seeing them interact, a crush and potential romance brewing right in your eyesight. You never told him how you were getting to school, either, not in the mood for his attempts to change your mind or force you otherwise.

Until-

“You’ve been taking the fucking bus?”

There’s a loud bark that rings through the halls of school, people moving out of the way for the one and only sukuna to come barreling down it, some looking in worry, others with their eyes rolling in their skull.

You sigh and close your locker, leaning against it, “did yuuji finally tell you?”

“No, and I’m going to beat the shit out of him for not telling me,” he snarls, leaning in close. “Do you know how fucking dangerous the bus can be?”

You roll your eyes, “people take the bus every day, Sukuna.”

“Yeah. Not you. Not anymore. I drive you. You know that.”

“Not anymore,” you grumble. He cocks a brow in challenge and you roll your eyes, “I have no interest in being in a car with you.”

“Who fucking shit in your oatmeal this morning?” He snaps. “You’ve had a punk ass attitude for the past two weeks, what the fuck happened?”

“Maybe im just not into being babied anymore?” You lie. He furrows his brows and licks his lips as the bell rings.

“This isn’t over. We’re not done.”

“I am!” You sing.

You’ve never had a day at school drag like today has.

Classes have never felt longer, teachers have never talked slower, and the clock has never ticked drowsier. It physically causes your head to pound and your stomach to become nauseous, and agony courses though your veins as the lunch bell rings.

It’s only lunch.

You manage to shuffle your way out to the cafeteria to meet your friends, two who cheer happily at your arrival and one who offers you a nod of acknowledgment. You plop down next to Fushiguro and rub your temples.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuji asks, and you flash him a small smile.

“I just don’t feel well.”

“You haven’t felt well in days,” he points out, “I hope you’ll be alright for tomorrow night!”

Tomorrow night.

Prom is tomorrow night.

You scrub your face with your hands, “I’ll feel better once I eat, yuuji. Don’t worry,” you say quietly.

The drumming of Nobara’s nails on the table don’t help the growing migraine in your skull, and you try your best to drown out the noise of so many people and so many thoughts and so many feelings about your argument with sukuna that you feel like you could throw up straight on this table.

Kugisaki grimaces, “I told your brother to be here today to talk about prom,” she says, poking her juice open with a straw. “He’s late.”

“He’s not late,” yuuji says, pointing a finger at a table just a few down. “He’s over there, with Uraume.”

The minute every vowel passes Yuuji’s lips, a shiver trails down your spine, filling your entire being with heaviness and hatred. You don’t dare look over your shoulder, instead you grab a grape from Fushiguro’s lunch to munch on. He nudges the small container closer, and you take another green grape from him.

“Besides,” Yuuji continues, taking a bite of his lunch, “I’m 98% sure Sukuna’s going with her. Something about her friend group and car pooling, I figured we could catch a ride with someone else.”

Your heart stops completely.

The man you’d assumed you were going with, the man you’d been in love with for years, is taking someone else, the day before prom.

“He WHAT!” Kugisaki snaps, and next to you, Fushiguro laces his pinky finger with yours, squeezing softly to keep you grounded. “Oh! The fucking nerve! I knew he was a piece of shit, but THIS?! Oh, Itadori, why couldn’t you have your license!”

“Hey! Why don’t you!”

“Kugisaki,” Fushiguro says softly. “Him being a scumbag is nothing new. But,” you feel blue eyes focus on the side of your head. “Let’s be a little more gentle about this, okay?”

From behind you, there’s a set of laughter that eases its way over the cafeteria, and you wish it was literally anyone else’s, anyone’s other than Uraume’s, and you hate how light and airy it sounds.

How pretty.

“I know for a fact Sukuna’s not that funny,” Kugisaki grumbles, but all you do is pick at your food and silently pretend to agree with your friend.

Sukuna is funny. Sukuna is so funny it hurts, it brings tears to your eyes and your sides and stomach to hurt, and even though you share him everyday, it hurts now to share him with her.

“Man, she’s laughing real hard,” Yuuji says, taking a sip of his water, his head turned to watch his brother interact with his friend. “Wonder what he said.”

“Yuuji,” Megumi warns.

Yuuji chuckles to himself, “it’s almost like they’re feeding off of each other, it’s kinda sweet.”

“Yuuji.”

“-and I mean, Sukuna’s usually not so open and friendly, let alone cracking jokes. It’s cute-“

“ITADORI!”

Megumi snaps hard enough at his friend to make him shut up, and when yuuji finally turns back to face you, your bottom lip wobbles and you play more with your food. Tears pour down your face, as Kugisaki reaches over to rest a hand on yours, sympathy in her gaze. “Yeah,” you sniffle. “It’s cute.” The hand not being cradled by Kugisaki comes up to wipe your tears, and before you know it, your legs stand up and carry you straight to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall where you’re able to finally let it go. You cradle yourself in comfort, eyes screwed shut as you sob every fiber of your soul out.

Kugisaki calls your name once, twice, then she sighs, “come on. Let’s talk this out, okay?”

“I’m not going to prom,” you confess. “Not if he’s going with her.”

“You don’t know if he is, though,” she argues, leaning against your stall door. “And if he is, and he fumbles the best thing that ever happened to him, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

There’s another person that enters the bathroom, and you hear Kugisaki scoff. “You’re like, a thousand percent not supposed to be in here.”

“Bite me,” the voice snaps, and it doesn’t take long to decode it as Sukuna’s. Your hand claps over your mouth to silence your tears, not wanting him to hear you. “I thought she was crying, I wanted to check on her.”

“She’s fine. Shoo.”

“Kugisaki-“

“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” she snaps, and you close your swollen eyes as she defends your honor. “Because we’re not. Don’t act like you care at all about me or her, or her peace or her business. So fucking beat it, before I snitch you out to the principal, then no one’s fucking happy.”

You hear sukuna exhale in annoyance, “just… text me, okay?” He says, and you know he’s talking to you.

“She’ll think about it,” Kugisaki growls. Once the big footprints are out of earshot, you slowly ease your way out of the stall and straight into Kugisaki’s arms, “I know honey, I know,” she soothes, hugging you tight. “You deserve so much better, babydoll. Fuck him.”

“He led me on for months,” you wail. “And he tossed me to the side like a fucking piece of trash. For her.”

“And that’s why you should go to prom,” she argues, pulling back to look at you, eyes soft in understanding. “You don’t need him to have fun- you’ve got friends who are dying to go with you. And you want to make him real jealous?” She asks, and you quirk your brow in intrigue.

She smirks, “go with Fushiguro.”

You sniffle and shake your head, “I cant do that to Fushiguro. Im not going to use him as a pawn to make Sukuna want me again. It’s not fair.”

Kugisaki nods and clicks her tongue, “why don’t you get a note from the nurse and go home for the day?” She encourages, and you ponder the idea in your head.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible idea… to go home and process the day, figure out what to do about prom, maybe even return the dress for your money back. You sigh shakily and nod your head before the bathroom door bursts open again, emerging a yuuji whose hands are clasped over his eyes. “Just wanted to bring you your backpack!”

You snort and wipe your nose, “thank you, Yuuji.”

“You’re welcome!” He shifts his fingers to peek at you, lifting the middle one to make eye contact, “so… sorry we didn’t get to talk about prom.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, ushering them both out of the bathroom. “I’m… I’m probably not going anyways.”

“WHAT!” He whines, his hands coming down to his sides in a saddened pout. “But! It’s senior prom! We have to go!”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t felt up for it since we made the plan to go. Maybe I’m just not supposed to.” When Fushiguro appears from the men’s bathroom and approaches the group, you flash him a sweet smile, “but I want you guys to still go!”

“Well if you’re not going, I’m not going!” Yuuji proclaims.

Fushiguro shakes his head, “if this is about prom, I won’t go either. We can chill at our houses instead-“

“EVERYONE IS GOING TO PROM!” Kugisaki barks, causing more than a few heads to turn in the hall. Then, she sighs, “we’re all old now. This is it. Our last chance of good memories from this shit fuck of a school. Everyone is going. Period.”

“But-“

“We’ll talk it out later,” you say quickly, noticing the duo of Sukuna and Uraume heading to the vending machines together. “I’m going home. Someone take notes for me.”

“Will do,” Fushiguro calls out for you. You feel three pairs of eyes boring into the back of your skull, but you couldn’t care less.

Not when you’re left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

Getting out of school was easy enough. Working up an excuse that you’re dizzy and need to be rushed home. It’s getting home that sucked.

Before, Sukuna was your ride home when you were sick, cutting classes to get you back to your home so you could take care of yourself and get plenty of rest. Now, you stand at a public bus stop, earbuds in your ears, and you wait. You’ve done this route plenty of times by now, courtesy of Sukuna’s front seat being taken by her.

The ride is quiet enough, your head resting against the cool glass of the window as your phone buzzes violently.

sukuna 💪🏻 Where the fuck did you go?

No seriously wtf

This shit with Fushiguro taking notes for you? The fucks up with that?

Why’d you even leave?

You think you can ignore me?

This isn’t over. Once this bell rings?

I’m hunting you down.

You ignore his threats and let the bus carry you home, your exhausted legs finishing the trip up and into the familiar confines of your house. You’ve got at least two hours before sukuna makes good on his word, and you decide to take that time to take care of yourself- something your heart has been too tired to do since Uraume came into your life uninvited.

After a hot shower, some skin care and topped with some pretty perfume, you make your way to the living room, stopping briefly for a snack from the kitchen.

You put on a movie, but your phone won’t stop buzzing. It’s Sukuna, it’s always going to be Sukuna, and you merely turn it on Do Not Disturb.

If ignoring his texts wouldn’t get him pissed, that certainly would.

But you don’t care. Not anymore.

There’s a ferocious knocking on the door that snaps you out of your zone, and it doesn’t take you long to render the intense energy as Sukuna’s. You pause your movie and shrug your blanket off, making your way to the front door.

Your hands tingle and your heart pounds at the idea of confrontation, but you figure you have nothing to lose as you open the door, revealing an annoyed Sukuna, foot tapping impatiently.

“You think you can hide from me?” he snaps, and you roll your eyes and try to close the door. Sukuna merely jams his foot in the frame to stop you. “Stop fucking around with me, and talk to me. And what’s this bullshit of Yuuji telling me you’re not going to prom?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you say blankly, but all that does is aggravate him more, and he uses a big hand to force the door open more. The act would be attractive to you, had your heart not been torn into pieces by him. “Don’t break my door.”

“Don’t ignore my goddamned texts!” He barks. You scoff and step back inside your house, where he swiftly follows you. “You’re acting like a fucking child.”

“IM ACTING LIKE A CHILD?” You screech, loud enough where even Sukuna’s eyes widen. “Me? After this entire week where you’ve picked your new best friend to cling to, IM THE CHILD?”

“Yes!” He snaps. “What, I can’t have other friends?”

“You seemed pretty content with the one,” you chuckle. “Certainly didn’t need me to keep you entertained.”

“It’s not my fault that Uraume’s been hanging out with me more,” he says, crossing his big arms. “You just can’t handle sharing me once in a while? Are you that insecure?”

This, has you wincing back, his words making you nauseous and tears bite at your waterline, stinging painfully as you finally blink a line down. He takes a deep inhale and cards a massive hand through his hair, “I didn’t mean that-“

“Fuck. You.”

“Look-“

“No, you look, Sukuna,” you growl, hands coming up to shove him hard. “You don’t get to gaslight me into thinking I’m being dramatic, after you’ve completely thrown me to the side and neglected me for the week. You don’t get to make me feel like the bad guy after you led me on for months on end, only to chase after another girl. You don’t get to break my heart, and demand me to piece it back together, only to try and guilt me for protecting my peace! FUCK! YOU!”

“Led you on for what?” He asks, confusion replacing annoyance, but aggregation still in his tone. “The fuck are you spewing?” You reach up to shove him again; this time, he grips your shoulders to make you steady, “are you out of your fucking mind? There is no other girl!”

“Oh, yeah,” you scoff, your voice tight with tears. “You just hold every broad’s hand in front of me. You just rest your hand onto every girl’s thigh, clearly. My bad, Sukuna.”

“I never held her hand, I moved her hand from my thigh, you weren’t fucking paying attention!”

“Yeah? What about not walking me to class anymore? Not carrying my books for me? Not sitting next to me anymore, instead going to be with her?”

His brows furrow, and there’s nothing you’d like more than to smack the expression clean off of his face. “Doll, Uraume is a friend. That’s it!”

“Yeah? Then what does that make us?”

“Everything!” He yells, the plates rattling and doors creaking from the force. The tears in your eyes still as you stare up at him, whimpering and shaking in his grip.

“What…?”

He sighs in exhaustion, “are you so dense you don’t notice just how obsessed with you I am? The minute someone else comes into my life, you’re blind to that?”

“Sukuna-“

“I’ve fought Fushiguro over you,” he continues. “I’ve argued with teachers for being late to walk you to your class. I’ve gotten pulled over speeding to your house to be with you. I’ve fucking been here, wanting you, but I was waiting for you to be ready.”

“Well, you’ve sure had a hell of a time proving it,” you snip, and he grits his teeth to ground himself. “Talking to another girl, taking her to prom-“

“I’m not taking her to prom, I’m taking you!”

“Then why have you been ignoring me!”

Your words are silenced as he grabs you by the chin and pulls you in for a kiss, the broken bits of your soul and heart snapping back together. Your brain stops and your stomach swirls, but your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, keeping him close. He tastes like orange soda and feels comforting like a freshly washed blanket, his band tee getting fisted in your hand as your other one plays with the hair of his buzz cut. He shivers, his arms hug around your waist, panting into your mouth before hesitantly pulling back.

He leans down to your ear, “listen carefully. I’m not taking Uraume. I’m taking you. Uraume is a friend. That’s it. Once I tell her we’re together, she’ll back off, and we’re going to be fine. I’ve been ‘ignoring you’ because I figured you wanted space, but I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Got it?” You sniffle and burrow your face in his chest, letting his big arms wrap around you and keep you safe. He presses another kiss to the crown of your head, and you feel your mind go fuzzy at the moment he cradles you close.

“Missed my annoying brat of a crush. Driving to school was so fucking boring,” he says, and you scoff against him and wipe your nose on his shirt. “Ugh. Ew.”

“You’re supposed to find me pretty no matter what,” you sniffle. “Even if I use you as a tissue.”

“Maybe, just don’t use me as a tissue?” He snickers, and when you loosen and laugh yourself, he gently pulls back to look at you.

“C’mon. Show me your dress. Need to know what color tie I’m getting.”

“You want to match with me?” You whimper.

He smirks, “Kugisaki already hates me. You think she’s going to let us not matching slide?”

“You’re so right.”

[miley1442111]

Hii omg i love the way you write!!! obsessed with the Rafe x Reader x JJ's fic. I'm eating that UPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And because of that i came to ask for something like that, i didnt saw anything like that done yet... The idea would be like that:

Rafe and reader are best best best friends like BEST FRIENDS but obviously deep down both are in love with each other and they personalities fit perfectly. But then Rafe starts dating Sofia (or just someone else) and reader get some distance from him to respect the privacy of the couple but Rafe always picks reader, Rafe and sofia meet reader on the country club, Rafe talks to reader the whole time, and give all is attention to reader.

Noticing how uncomfortable Sofia gets the reader get even more distant from Rafe and that starts to destroy him until one day, something big happens and Rafe picks reader instead of Sofia, like his instinct is to pick Reader. Then Sofia makes Rafe choose once and for all between her, his girlfriend or his bestfriend and one true love, the reader.

Maybe fluff/angst/comfort??? Pleaseeeeee sorry if this is too long or made you uncomfortable!!

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

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

easy choice- r.cameron

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

a/n: HI (louder than everyone else), i literally love you and this request anon!!!!!!! I dropped everything to write this, it literally got me out of a writing funk!!!!!! (YAYAYYAAYYA THANK U POOKIE) this is amazing and I hope you enjoy !!!!! :)))))))))))

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader, male oc x fem! reader, rafe cameron x female oc

summary: i suggest you look at the ask

warnings: kissing, toxic realtionship, rafe is a bit of a dick to haley and reader, rafe is confused, cursing, underage drinking, drinking, suggestive mentions (I think that's it?)

y/n is such a girls girl i love it.

not entirely proofread

3.4k words :)

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

You had been in love with Rafe Cameron from the moment you knew what love was. You had been 5 years old when the brunette boy wandered into your life in the role of your rich neighbour, but also your new best friend. Their large land meant you and Rafe spent every day of  that summer running around with each other, playing, laughing, being kids. 

When you were 6 years old he’d kissed your cheek and your mom’s had laughed, calling it ‘young love’. And that’s what it was. From that moment, you knew you loved Rafe. You knew he loved you back. For the next 13 years every time someone brought up Rafe and asked what you were to him, it was always ‘best friend’, and when people would ask you how you felt about him, you told them. 

“I love him,” you’d shrug. It was simple. They could take it that you were in love with him, or that you loved him. It was up to them. 

Often, you’d joke that you two were too close to ever date, that you’d ‘seen too much’ of the other, and that it would be weird. But on the night of your 15th birthday when you’d both gotten drunk for the first time, and when he’d kissed you, you’d thought that maybe that idea was stupid. Maybe you hadn’t seen too much. 

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

“This is Haley,” Rafe smiled. Haley, Rafe’s new girlfriend was clinging to him like all the others you’d met had, intimidated by you. You just smiled. “This is Y/n, she’s my best friend.”

You watched as her face faltered, then her hand shot out far too quickly, and almost hit your drink. You just smiled and shook her hand. “I promise I’m not one of those terrible ‘girl best friend in love with your boyfriend’ girls, I’ve seen Rafe shit himself, I can’t ever get that image out of my head.”

Haley smiled, then laughed as Rafe rolled his eyes at you. You shrugged, it was the best way to break the ice with his girlfriends, make fun of him. 

“No way,” she chuckled. “How old was he?”

“5-”

“15,” you answered. “Remember? When we were going skiing with your dad?” 

Rafe gritted his teeth and smiled at you, but you knew he wasn’t mad. Rafe was unable to get mad at you, it was truly impressive. All these years, and you’d never had a real fight. You just laughed at him and he broke out of his fake annoyance. 

“Well, I think this has been a great conversation, thanks Y/n-” Rafe was trying to steer Haley towards the bar behind you, but she stayed put. 

“Rafe, I want to meet her, properly,” she whispered and he rolled his eyes but obliged. 

“Good for you girl,” you chuckled, poking fun at the way he listened and did anything she asked. She laughed again. Maybe you two would be friends? That would be nice. All of Rafe’s old girlfriends had been intimidated by you, and it made you pretty upset. They had nothing to worry about, yes, you loved Rafe, but not like that. Yes, he was your first crush, and first kiss, but you were over that. You were a grown woman, and you knew your own feelings, fuck what everyone else thought. You weren’t in love with Rafe Cameron, you loved your best friend. And that’s all he was, your best friend. “Do you guys want to get lunch?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Haley smiled. 

“I have golf with the boys, you sure you don’t want to join?” He asked, turning to you.

“I’m, fucking awful at golf Rafe, it sucks, so for the last fucking time; no thank you,” you chuckled. 

“Suite yourself,” he shrugged, and grabbed your hand, giving it a tight squeeze before starting to walk off. 

“Rafe?” You called him. 

“Hm?” He turned back. 

You nodded your head in Haley’s direction. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” You mouthed. 

Rafe nodded, catching on and walked back over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Haley smiled and waved him off. 

“He’s such a dick sometimes, sorry,” you chuckled with her. 

“He’s fine,” she smiled. “Seriously, I’d rather be here anyways, you’re right about golf, that shit sucks.”

You chuckled. “Amen to that.”

You talked with Haley for an hour before you had to get back to work. 

“Well, I better head back to work,” you smiled, getting up. “It was awesome to meet you.”

“Yeah you too,” she smiled, getting up at the same time. “To be honest I was pretty worried to meet you.”

“Why?”

“Rafe talks about you all the time, you’re like the only thing he talks about,” she chuckled and you felt awful. Rafe shouldn’t be talking about you to his girlfriend. You were his friend, and you’d never ever want someone, let alone his girlfriend to be worried about your role in his life. You two were strictly best friends.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that can’t be nice,” you sympathised. 

She shook her head. “No seriously, I didn't mean it in a bad way! It’s just-”

“No! Of course not,” you assured her. “I just mean that I wouldn’t totally like it if my boyfriend was constantly talking about someone else,” you explained. “I had one of those ‘girl best friend boyfriends’ and trust me, I swear to not be like that.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you smiled. “Now, I’d love your number so you can tell me if Rafe ever does some stupid shit, he usually listens to me and I can knock some sense into him. He has no right to piss you off, ever,” you chuckled. “Don’t take any of his shit, ever, ok? Promise me?”

“I promise,” she chuckled. “Thanks for being so… cool. I didn’t exactly expect it.” 

“No problem,” you smiled. “Thanks for being so cool too.”

You two left each other, and you two were friends. That felt good, and it also felt too good to mess up. So you decided it would be best to lay off Rafe for a while, still go out, but not alone (not that there was anything wrong with it, but just to give Haley peace of mind), and not reply immediately when he texted. 

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

Rafe: Are You free today? 

Today, 11:00 am

You: Sorry, going out with Kelce and Top. Go out with Haley. 

Today 1:00 pm

Rafe: ???

Rafe: Didn’t think to invite me? 

Today, 1:01pm

You: Haley told me you two have plans today Rafe.  DON’T FUCK THIS UP! SHE’S REALLY COOL!!!

Today 1:02 pm

Rafe: Y/n come on. I’m only hanging out with her. She clings to me like a fucking koala

Today 1:04 pm

You: Set boundaries then. She’s your girlfriend. (plus me + you hang out more often than you and her????)

Today 1:04 pm

Rafe: That's different.

Today 1:05 pm

You: ????? 

You: No it’s not. Now have a fun date Rafe! Top, Kelc and I are drunk on a boat rn :)))))

Read 1:08pm

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

Three months later…

Rafe: Dinner + horror movie tonight? Tanneyhill?

Read 2:14pm

“Who’re you texting?” Haley asked Rafe as she watched him get increasingly pissed off while looking at his phone. 

“No one,” he coughed, putting his phone down. Why were you ignoring him? It had been three months of dodged hangouts and missed calls and texts. He was getting the majority of his information about you out of Haley, and it was pissing him off. You were his best friend, not hers. Yet you seemed to have all the time in the world for her, and none for him. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Haley started. “Y/n and I were shopping the other day and-”

Rafe’s ears piqued up. Haley and you were hanging out, but you and him weren’t? Again, unfair, he was your best friend. “What?”

“Me and Y/N? We went shopping the other day and she finally found her Midsummer’s dress,” Haley explained. “We decided we’d match!” Haley turned and showed him a picture of you two in the matching pale pink dresses. 

Rafe was almost knocked on his ass by how good you looked. Your messy hair from the rain that had hit that day and your real smile, the one he knew, the one he usually brought out of you, and the long pink dress accentuating every perfect feature of your body. He found himself smiling. 

“What do you think?” Haley smiled. 

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, handing her phone back. “You’re stunning.”

Haley’s smile widened and Rafe felt accomplished. Yes, Haley looked good, but beside you? He didn’t even see her. 

“We should go to the mainland and get you a matching pink suit,” Haley beamed. She put her phone down, turning to Rafe. “I’m so glad we're together.”

Rafe flashed her his signature smirk and she pressed a kiss to his cheek. Kook princess and Kook king. This is what he’d wanted. Why didn’t it feel good then?

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

Later that night, you called him. 

“Hi,” He sighed into the phone. 

“Did Haley tell you the happy news?” You chuckled. 

“That you two are matching for Midsummers? Yeah I know, the dress is pretty-”

“No Rafe, that I won’t be third wheeling you two at Midsummers,” you chuckled. 

Rafe stopped in his tracks. He stopped mid-biting into his apple and he almost dropped his phone. “What?”

“I got asked to Midsummers!” You cheered. 

“Who?” Rafe’s voice was just above a whisper. What was that feeling? The bile in his throat that he couldn’t swallow down. The red-tint in his vision. The way his entire body tensed. 

“Conrad Burren and I are going together,” you smiled. 

Rafe’s heart started beating again and he sighed, a smile landing on his lips. You were friends with the pogues, Conrad was your friend. “Oh,” he took a breath. “You’re going as friends, I thought you meant you got a date.”

You were quiet for a moment. That shit stung. “I did get a date. It’s a date Rafe,” you were more than offended. Rafe acting like you couldn’t get a date, fuck him. You and Conrad  were going together, and that’s what you wanted. Would you rather it be your usual tradition with Rafe where you’d run off to the empty lighthouse, get drunk and watch Jaws? Yes. But Haley had somehow convinced him to go to Midsummers, and you weren’t going to mess that up for her. “Conrad and I are going on a date.”

Rafe’s heart stopped again. Fuck. “Oh.”

You were getting angry with his silence. “Thanks Rafe, you piece of shit,” you spat and hung up the phone. 

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

He had no reason to be this upset. Was he even upset? Was this him being upset? He had no idea how he was feeling, so an impromptu ‘boys only’ meeting was called. 

“Why are we here at midnight Rafe?” Topper yawned as he sat beside Wheezie (Yes, Wheezie and Sarah were part of your little group, and they were honorary boys at this meeting). “And where’s Y/n?”

Sarah laughed. “This is about Y/n,” she explained. “They had a fight.”

“Sarah!” He groaned, pacing the room. 

“Over who she’s going to Midsummers with,” Wheezie finished for her. “She’s going with Conrad.”

“Burren?” Kelce asked and Wheezie nodded. “He’s an alright guy, better than Jj Maybank anyways.”

Topper chuckled and agreed. “Yeah, what’s the issue with Conrad? He's a pogue and she’s basically a pogue anyways."

"Exactly! The only thing that really makes Y/n a kook is being friends with us and her parent’s money so… what’s the big problem that dragged me out of bed at fucking 11:43pm?” Kelce yawned.

“The problem is that she shouldn't be going with him!” Rafe snarled. 

“Who should she go with?” Sarah sighed. 

“No one!” Rafe exclaimed and everyone burst out laughing. “Me? No, no one!”

“Rafe, you have Haley and Y/n’s going to have to date one day! She’s already had a boyfriend or two,” Wheezie shrugged. 

Rafe turned his head to her. “What?”

“Yeah! They just weren’t super serious so she probably didn’t tell you,” Wheezie explained. 

“She probably didn’t tell you because she knew you’d flip your shit,” Sarah chuckled. “Like you’re doing right now.”

“Fuck off!” He hissed. “I’m not in love with her!”

The room fell silent, save for the heavy breathing of Rafe. 

“No one said you were,” Sarah smirked. “But you just did.”

And everything clicked into place for Rafe. He was in love with you. And of course he was. You, beautiful, intelligent, funny, kind, amazing, you. Who wouldn’t be in love with you? How hadn’t he realised it sooner? Why hadn’t he acted on it sooner?

“Fuck,” he breathed out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. No! No, I-I can’t be in-in love with Y/n!”

Sarah laughed. “Rafe it’s alright!’

“No! No it’s not! Be-because she said we-we'd never date! ‘It wouldn’t ma-make sense’ she said. She said we wouldn’t make sense!” He panicked. He was in love with you, and there was no way you’d ever give him a chance. And then there way fucking Haley. Kook princess, irritating, clingy, Haley. “And what do I do about Haley?”

“I mean,” Kelce took a deep breath. “You might need to just break it off.”

“No he can’t do that,” Topper shook his head. “Haley and Y/n are like best friends-”

“Y/n is my best friend!” Sarah shouted. “Y/n is my best friend!” Rafe shouted. “Y/n is my best friend!” Wheezie shouted. All at the same time.

The Cameron siblings started into a very loud shouting match, trying to convince the others that you were in fact their best friend, not the others. Topper and Kelce let it run its course for about 10 minutes, but with no end in sight, Topper shouted. “Ok! You need to talk to Haley about this, then go to Y/n, but wait until after Midsummers!” 

Rafe stared at him for a minute, then shrugged. “Yeah. Good plan,” he wiped some of the sweat from his forehead and stood still for the first time in hours. “You two can go,” he mumbled to his friends, who just laughed.

“See you tomorrow man,” Kelce chuckled as they left. 

Rafe just had to wait until after Midsummers, which was four days away. He could make that, right?

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

Rafe could not make it for 4 days. 4 days of knowing that you were mad at him, that you were going on a date with someone else to Midsummers, that he would have to see you there with him. 

4 days of agony, essentially. 

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

“What’s wrong with you?” Haley finally asked, sick of his shitty mood that had just been growing throughout the week. 

“Nothing,” he mumbled, letting go of her hand as they walked. 

“No,” She stopped. “Come on, talk to me Rafey.”

Rafey. He fucking hated it when she called him that. It felt juvenile, so stupid, so whiny. 

“Stop calling me that shit,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s fucking annoying.”

She took a step away from him. “Rafe Cameron, we are going to Midsummers in 3 fucking hours, do I need to call Y/n to get her to set you straight?” 

A part of him didn’t like the fact that she had your number, another part of him wanted your attention on him, and that phone call would do just that. “I don’t fucking care Haley.”

Haley huffed, then walked off, lifting her phone to her ear. 

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

“Hey Haley,” you sniffled. Conrad had cancelled on you at the last minute, saying he was ‘too busy to go to some kook-bullshit’. 

“Hey Y/n, can you tell Rafe to go fuck himself for me?” She seethed. 

“Haley, this really isn’t the time,” you sighed. “I’m sorry I just-”

“You told me you’d be here for me?” Haley scoffed. 

“Yeah, a-and I am I just-”

“So be here for me. I’m handing the phone to Rafe, talk to him.” 

“Hi,” it was Rafe’s voice, and you just wanted to cry harder. 

“Hi,” you choked out. “What’s going on?”

Rafe heard how your voice broke and his senses went into overdrive. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you tried to steady your breathing. “Tell me what you said to Haley.”

“I didn’t say shit that wasn’t true. Now, where are you Y/n? What’s wrong?” Rafe was already grabbing his car keys from his pocket. 

“I’m sorry about our fight, I guess you were right. It wasn’t a date,” you sniffled. 

“What did that asshole do?” He growled. “Fucking piece of shit- listen I’ll be at yours in a few minutes, stay put.” 

“Rafe, go to Midsummers with Haley, please don’t worry about me,” you pleaded. You didn’t want his relationship to be ruined over you, and you didn’t want Haley to hate you forever because of a choice Rafe made. 

“Fuck Midsummers, and fuck Haley. You’re what’s important,” he assured you. “I’ll be there soon, ok?”

“Rafe please-” 

He hung up. 

“She knocked some sense into you?” Haley turned to him. 

“I’m not going to Midsummers,” Rafe muttered, brushing past her. He would burn every bridge he had to if it meant he got to you. 

“What?!” She shouted, stopping him by grabbing his arm. “Rafe!” “Fuck off, we’ll talk later,” he tried to brush her off, but she remembered what you’d said.

“Never take any of his shit, ok, promise me?”

“No. We’ll talk now. Me or her?"

“Her.” 

Rafe answered without a second thought. You were his destination, his journey, and his starting point. You inhabited his thoughts, lived in his head rent free, and you controlled him. You guided him, you knew him, and you loved him. As a friend at least. He just hoped it was more. 

Haley sighed, eyes clouding with tears. “Go.” 

“I was going to do that no matter what,” Rafe admitted, then brushed her off of him, running to his car. He got to your house in a record time of 5 minutes, and he ran to your bedroom. There you stood, mascara running, in your gorgeous pale pink dress with the prettiest flowers in your hair, and a sinking feeling his head gut told him that he was right. 

He was irrevocably, irreversibly, completely, head over heels in love with you. He reached out and took you into his arms, letting you cry onto his white shirt.

“He’s a piece of shit,” he whispered, holding you as you two sat down on your bed. “He didn’t deserve you,” he pressed his face into your hair. He draped your legs over his, holding you against him in a bridal hold as you cried into his neck, one arm supporting your back and one holding you closer to him. “You deserve so much better,” he purred. “You’re so beautiful, so, so beautiful,” he whispered. “So gorgeous.”

“Rafe, you should be with Haley,” you wiped your eyes. 

“We broke up,” he admitted. This was the moment, his moment. The moment where everything would change. It just depended on whether it was good or bad. “We broke up because I’m in love with you.”

You took your head out from his neck and stared at him, then you started laughing. “You’re in love with me?” You asked through laughter. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. 

And then it all clicked for you. You were in love with Rafe Cameron. Soft, uncontrollable, hilarious, handsome, Rafe Cameron. 

“Shit,” you sighed out, a shocked look on your face. “I think I’m in love with you too.”

Rafe’s smile brightened. “Yeah?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, a smile on your lips. 

Rafe’s attention landed on your lips, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He grabbed your face, pulling it up to his own, and kissing you. It was like he was 15 all over again, but so much better. 

You pulled back after a moment. “You’re totally broken up with Haley, right?”

He nodded, his eyes staying on your lips, already addicted to the way you tasted. “Yeah,” he mumbled, only half listening. 

“Good,” you smirked. “Because we have to get to Midsummers.”

Rafe’s interest was piqued. “Why?”

“Traditions are tradition Cameron,” you smirked, fixing up your makeup. “We have to get drunk and watch Jaws in the lighthouse. Or did you forget?” 

Rafe could feel himself getting hard but he just smirked. “I didn’t forget.”

“Good,” you smirked, pressing your lips to his once again. “So let’s go.”

He nodded, following you like an overactive puppy. 

God, he was whipped.  And he didn’t even care. He had you.

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

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[squiddy-god]

Hi!! I’m new so I’m not sure if there’s a character limit but could I get the baldurs gate 3 characters with a plus size gn reader?

(If there is a limit could I get Wyll, Karlach, and/or Astarion?)

Thank you!!

I added gale because i want that wizard SO BAD this is a super cute request just keep in mind that i haven't played a whole lot of baldur's gate- also there is no character limit but i think id cap it at like 7 for hcs. Maybe slight possible spoilers. Yall are so lucky i almost included karniss for funsies but held back my spider simping 

Cw : might have slightly suggestive bits but is sfw, gn reader, no pronouns, fluffy, mentions of past body shaming, 

Wyll

He's so sweet- a real gentleman at heart

He loves to rest his head on your shoulder and wrap his arms rough your waist 

After the horns tho it makes it a bit harder so he settles for holding you and resting his head on your chest 

Kinda obsessed with your hands, always kisses the back of your hands or the inside of your wrist

Hes prone to stress, so when he’s feeling particularly stressed he gets kinda clingy- he will (wyll haha) never admit that he's being clingy tho

He hugs you, a deep sigh leaving his lips as he squeezes your sides and relaxes with exhale. 

Your soft and comforting and after all the things he's been through he is in desperate need of some comfort 

I think wyll enjoys being seen as more knightly, your knight in shining armor

That being said this man can and will defend your honor, people can be so cruel and he won't stand for it, he is absolutely going to defend you when people are talking shit because he will have none of it 

Wyll is a sweet man, he wants you to be comfortable and happy with him, so he does his best to reassure you about how he loves every bit of you and tries to ease your insecurities 

Karlach 

Hrmmmmgghghggdgg love her,,,love her so much hehehehe

She loves cuddles so much and is so touch starved fight me on this 

She sees you and gets a sappy smile because she is just so mushy 

I think out of all the companions she is definitely one of the top chubby person lovers

Handsy, she loves to hold and squish every part of you, the way your chubby arms wrap around her waist and torso while she rubs your back is heaven actually

I think she would love tummy kisses, she loves them even more if you get flustered because you are cute<3 she really adores how soft you are

She likes picking you up and she absolutely can and will at every opportunity that presents itself 

She is throwing hands if someone body shames you

Like she gets the most aghast expression of “how dare they” 

Normally people just turn tail and run but she is so down to throw hands 

Being insecure with karlach is very hard because she has no issue telling you how much she loves you, and she is very honest, her words really show threw her actions 

Astarion 

I feel like astarion is someone who understands insecurity on a deep level, there are many aspects of himself that make him insecure

You have been so warm to him, you love him so genuinely he wants to return the favor by also loving you so genuinely, size doesn't matter to this man 

Ignore that last part he loves feeding on you, so much to sink his teeth into ;) like eating something warm and comforting 

“Gorgeous as always” is a regular statement he makes whenever seeing you 

Loves to hold you before bed because he can just relax and feel himself melt into you.

Astarion is very fond of squishing your cheeks, if hes happy or mad at you your cheeks are getting squashed because this vampire has a bit of cuteness aggression 

King of talk shit get bit because he is kinda just looking for a reason to have a little murder as a treat

Like he hears someone body shame you and is like “can i pleaseeeeee stab them?just a little” 

He will find them 

He won't tolerate people adding to your self doubt because he thinks you are genuinely just the most beautiful creature and he WON >:3

Gale

I WANT THIS WIZARD SO BAD 

I'm so incredibly down bad for gale he's such a dork i love him 

He's awkward honestly, he'd like to be all suave but when it comes to physical affection he is quite awkward. 

Eventually he finds peace in just being able to hold you close, he particularly enjoys being able to hold you against his chest while he reads to you

I think he would enjoy teaching you about magic (assuming you aren't also a wizard) and if you are a wizard he still enjoys reading you books about magic 

He's a sucker for just being sweet and domestic with you

Big fan of your thighs and if you are sitting in his vicinity his hand is always resting on your thigh occasionally giving it a gentle squeeze to calm you both down 

Big fan of shoulder kisses when you both first wake up

I love sassy kinda mean gale when he talks to rude people so i love the idea of him just verbally destroying someone who talks sit about you 

Hes actually pretty good about ginning you reassurance for your insecurities

He doesn't have the best way with words sometimes but he is just so flabbergasted at your thoughts because he personally wants to fuse souls lmao 

[sadhours]

Harringrove at Tina’s party pleaseeeeee. Steve is a sobbing mess over nancy and just wants to forget and who better than to assist him with that than Billy???? Also Billy just leaving Steve covered in his cum and crying over his new conflicted feelings like ughhhh

Hi I love you. This was fun to write. It uh, gets a lil sad at the end.

Cw: 18+ minors dni, Billy using Steve. Some degradation. Smut and angst?

Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.

The words repeated heavy in Steve’s head, over and over and over until his stomach churned with dread and disgust. Nancy thought they were bullshit? While Steve thought they were what? In love? He feels like a fool but what the fuck else is new. The eyes on him as he stalked after her and her stupid punch stained shirt tell him he’s gonna hear about this all week at school. Guaranteed to be blame of the punch spill anyways.

He had fully intended to stay relatively sober at this party when he arrived but now the slice in his heart needs mending and ya know what, that bottle of Jack he earlier denied is calling his name. So he goes to find it, eyes scanning the crowd until it falls on that annoying man, pecks peeking out behind a leather jacket and of course, the stupid fingerless gloves he’s wearing are wrapped around that bottle of whiskey Steve is suddenly desperate for. Fuck it. He’s King Steve, this beautiful asshole called him that earlier, when he puffed his chest and glared into Steve’s soul. He can fucking take the whiskey from him. In fact, he has to. Pushing through the crowd, Steve gets his fingers around the neck of the bottle and tugs. Hargrove raises his eyebrows, lips turning up into a smirk but he doesn’t give, grips the shaft of the bottle tighter.

“Need something, King Steve?” his honeyed voice purrs and it boils Steve’s blood.

With a curl of his upper lip, he growls back, “Yeah, fork it over, prick.”

“Oh,” Billy cackles, “Yes, your majesty. Here.”

Steve rips the bottle from Billy’s hand and takes a dangerous swig of it, the amber liquid burning down his throat. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the blue ones glued to his face, something insidious behind them. Steve doesn’t care, chokes down another fiery swig and exhales, his stomach swirling with heat from the booze. Hargrove keeps eying him with intrigue, a playful tilt to his smirk that makes Steve weary. He goes to stomp off, then fingers are wrapping around his wrist.

“Something bothering you?” Billy asks with a duck of his head, shining teeth bared in a smile Steve doesn’t exactly trust.

“Yeah, you.”

“Feisty, nice. I’ve heard that about you,” Hargrove beams, keeps his grip firm on Steve’s wrist and tugs him into the bathroom he’d just been told he was bullshit in.

He locks the door behind him, leans against the door and looks at Steve differently. Almost hungry?

“What’s this about? Let me out,” Steve seethes and moves for the doorknob but Billy blocks him.

“C’mon,” he pouts, “something’s bothering you, what is it?” Hargrove tilts his head, “Something to do with your stuck up girlfriend?”

“Shut up,” Steve hates the way his eyes well up with tears, hates the way his stomach drops at the mention of Nancy.

“She dump you in here?” Billy asks with this shit eating grin that makes Steve’s skin crawl.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Steve tries, ashamed of the way his voice cracks when he says it.

Hargrove pouts again, snatches the bottle from Steve’s grip and swallows some down before setting it on the counter, “C’mon, you’re King Steve, right? Bitches come and go.”

“Stop,” Steve whimpers out, bringing his hands up to his face in shame as the tears trickle down his cheeks.

Billy crowds him then, presses the small of his back against the counter and gets real close to his face. It’s threatening at first but something about Billy’s whiskey and nicotine tinged breath on his face is… hot? Oh, god. What the fuck is wrong with him? It’s the whiskey, even though he hasn’t really had much. It’s the rejection doing it. He’s not even into guys. Why the hell is Billy Hargrove of all people making his dick twitch? It makes such little sense that he’s full on crying now, sobbing into the minuscule space between them. And Hargrove’s hands grip his waist, and then he… he fucking licks the tears off of Steve’s cheek and Jesus Christ, he’s hard in his jeans from it. Steve chokes out another pathetic sob before he shoves Billy back, glaring down at him fiercely.

“The fuck is wrong with you, faggot?” Steve seethes out, pushing down another sob.

Billy scoffs, raises a brow and moves his hand to cup Steve through his jeans, “I’m not often wrong. And I’m not wrong this time, faggot.”

Steve closes his eyes as he whimpers, the warmth and firmness of Billy’s palm against his pulsing erection confirms it for the both of ‘em. Steve likes this. He actually fucking likes this. And it’s definitely because the whiskey and Nancy breaking his heart and not actually because he’s attracted to Hargrove. He thinks for a brief moment before he’s reaching back for the bottle of Jack and downs some more. He sets it back down and rolls his hips into Billy’s hand, letting another slew of tears escape his eyes. Hargrove presses into his strained erection and licks his cheek again. And it’s the oddest thing. Steve feels heat pooling in his stomach from it. Maybe it’s the whiskey. The safer thing to think is it’s from the whiskey and not from the weird, gay degradation happening.

“Poor King Steve,” Hargrove whispers in his ear, “Crying over some mediocre pussy.”

Steve can’t even fight back anymore, he’s over the fight and all he can is welcome the pleasure erupting over his body from Hargrove fondling his cock and balls over his jeans. It’s pathetic, he knows that but it feels too good and he wants more. No, he needs more. Tells Billy as much with a whimper and another roll of his hips.

“I’ll make you cry like a bitch, too,” Hargrove mumbles into the shell of his ear before dipping down to bite his lobe and tug.

The cries turn into moans as Billy bites down Steve’s neck and undoes his jeans, shoving them down his thighs and wrapping his fingers around Steve’s aching cock. The leather from the gloves is an interesting sensation, Steve likes it a lot. It’s obvious by the way he’s thrusting up into Billy’s fist and whining.

“God, you’re whiny,” Billy observes, jerking Steve’s cock dry in his palm, “That why the princess dumped you? She get fed up with how much of a bitch you are?”

“Shut up,” Steve says behind gritted teeth, fingers moving to grip the counter behind him.

“I haven’t even done anything,” Billy comments? pulling back as he scoops the precum bubbling from Steve’s dick on his fingertip and brings it up eye level, “Even your dick is weeping.”

Billy apparently thinks he’s hilarious by the way he cackles, but then he’s licking the slick from his finger and Steve’s knees almost buckle from the sight. He thinks this might be the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, and that’s alarming but something for him to consider after he’s blown his load. Hargrove drops to his knees and squeezes the base of Steve’s cock, looking up at him under thick lashes. He’s so pretty, Steve wants to touch his face, drag his thumb along Billy’s cheekbone but he doesn’t let himself. His leaking, pulsing hard on is proof enough he thinks Billy is pretty, doesn’t need to push his luck anyway. He thinks Hargrove might bite his fingers if he does so, or maybe worse, his dick.

Plush, pink lips circle the head of Steve’s cock and he’s letting out a gasp, shocked by just how much he likes the sight. He wants so desperately to touch the boy before him but he won’t let himself, no matter how much those dirty blonde curls are begging to have Steve’s fingers in them. Hargrove’s mouth is so warm and so wet as he takes Steve down. Better than any hole he’s ever been in and that’s… another thought for later. His cock twitches in Billy’s mouth, and he smirks around it, letting Steve know he felt it.

“Fuuuck,” he whines out, lips parting in ecstasy. The arousal he feels now is white hot, intoxicating more than any swig of whiskey. If he’s not careful, he’s libel to fall in love with Billy Hargrove this instant and nobody needs that. Pupils blown, Billy looks into Steve’s eyes while he sucks him down deep, so deep. Steve can feel his tip hitting the back of Hargrove’s throat and the fucker swallows. Steve’s seeing stars for a second, forgetting that he was trying not to touch Billy as he slips his fingers into that dumb fucking mullet. Tugs while he moans lowly, earning another smile around his cock. God damn, this idiot is pretty and Steve hates him and loves him all at once. Wants to punch his dumb face and kiss it at the same time.

Hargrove moves a hand up and cradles Steve’s balls in his palm, bobbing his head up and down like he was fucking born to do this. How did he get so good at sucking cock? Steve suddenly feels excited at the prospect of knowing this secret about Billy, maybe he can use this against him. But then again, it’s his dick down Hargrove’s throat. One of these might be gayer but Steve can’t even finish these thoughts because Billy’s giving him the blowjob of a lifetime and Steve’s pathetically on the brink of orgasm. Can’t even warn Billy before he’s shooting down his throat.

“Christ,” he chokes out, bucking his hips into Billy’s face as he chases the pleasure and this guy is a champ. Billy grabs a hold of Steve’s thighs and takes the face fucking, then leans back on his haunches as he grins up at him.

Steve’s panting against the counter, coming back down to earth when Billy opens the cabinet to the left of his leg and starts rifling through it.

“What are you doing?” Steve wonders, voice wrecked.

“Said I was gonna make you cry like a bitch, didn’t I?” Billy quips around a dangerous smirk, holding up a bottle of baby oil.

“What?” Steve asks, eyes wide. What the hell is Hargrove gonna do with that oil?

“Turn around,” Billy rises to his feet, eyebrow lifted like he dares Steve to disobey.

“Dude— no,” Steve gapes, “I—“

“Pretty boy, I said turn around,” Billy levels, eyes dark and Steve does, in spite of everything telling him not to. Hargrove’s lips are on his ear, “Lemme show you something that priss never could.”

Suddenly, there’s a slickness pressing to his asshole and Steve chokes out a gasp, looks at himself in the mirror and his face shows the shock he feels. Billy hooks his chin over Steve’s shoulder and meets his eyes in the mirror as his fingers rub circles against Steve’s hole. It feels nice despite the panic rising in his chest, and Steve doesn’t tear his eyes away from the reflection of Billy’s.

“I’m gonna make you feel better than that bitch ever could,” Billy tells him, voice low and raspy which causes another stir to Steve’s softening cock. Then Billy’s finger pushes past the tight ring of Steve’s asshole and it’s a sharp pain but at the same time it’s overwhelmingly pleasant. Punches a moan out of Steve’s throat and he drops his head, eyes on the sink but immediately, Billy’s hands on his throat and urging his head upright again.

“Look at yourself,” he insists, curling his finger and then bites Steve’s jaw. “Such a pretty boy.”

Steve whines, not recognizing himself in the mirror. Billy’s sliding in another finger as his tongue soothes the tender skin his teeth assaulted, eyes trained on Steve’s flushed face. Billy’s fingers twist and prod until they hit a spot inside of Steve he didn’t know existed and he cries out, vision blurring as Billy continuously rubs at the spot. The stupidly gorgeous face he sees in the mirror looks smug, but Steve’s a little too preoccupied to be mad at it. Hell, he barely notices when Billy’s adding a third digit to his hole. Steve whimpers out, knuckles turning white where he’s gripping tightly onto the countertop.

Hargrove bites at his jaw again, thrusting his fingers in quick succession and each time they poke Steve’s prostate he moans, feeling his eyes cross as his cock springs back to life. He scissors his fingers, stretching Steve’s hole as he groans lowly and rolls his hips.

“Think you’re ready?” Billy asks, voice teetering on desperation and it’s really nice to hear. Steve’s nodding his head, all the panic from before evaporated at this point.

Billy pulls his fingers out and Steve fucking whines, more pathetic than he’s sounded all night. It’s short lived, Billy’s quick with slathering his cock in the oil and pressing his head to Steve’s eager hole. Obviously, his cock is thicker than his fingers and Steve’s feeling that panic return but Billy pushes the head through and Steve cries out, tears prickling his eyes at the sensation because it is painful but his balls tighten from it and his eyes roll back. It’s painful in the delicious kind of way. He couldn’t even remember Nancy’s name in this moment if he tried. Heads empty, nobodies home. Just clouds of God, that’s nice and oh, wow there’s a cock in my ass. Billy’s hand meets his throat again and he purrs in Steve’s ear, “Look at me.”

Steve didn’t even realize he’d closed his eyes, but he opens them and his vision is flooded with the reflection of himself, Billy’s face pressed next to his and that leather clad hand around his neck. He looks to Billy’s eyes in the mirror, a little upset with how much it makes his heart swell. Steve’s easy. Billy saw he was upset and did something to make him forget about it. Fuck, he might be in love. Nope. Steve, stop it.

Billy sinks in a little deeper, draining the air of Steve’s lungs as he does so, “Fuck!”

“I was right, huh?” Billy says, breathless as his face contorts in pleasure.

“Uh huh,” Steve breathes, would agree with anything the blonde says at this point. His heads all warm and fuzzy and Billy’s really pretty. The angles of his face irritated Steve before, got a hint of jealousy in his gut but now he just wants to touch them.

Hargrove groans, digging his nails into Steve’s hips as he drives deeper into the brunette, “So fucking tight.”

And then the head of his cock meets with Steve’s prostate and Steve’s eye roll back in his head. He would’ve collapsed to the floor if it wasn’t for the grip Billy has on him. Doesn’t realize he’s crying again until Billy licks his cheeks again, hips still as he allows Steve to adjust to his length. Hargrove’s breath is heavy on his face, fanning across his sticky cheek in waves. Billy starts rolling his hips, languid and deep and each stroke makes Steve feel like he’s floating higher and higher away. His reflection looks as fucked out as he feels, his eyes glazed over and wide, lips parted in an O and his cheeks are wildly flushed. But this sensation is fucking otherworldly and his cocks at full attention, begging to be touched even though he just came. His chest feels tight while he spews out these breathless and high pitched moans. Hargrove looks as smug as can be, cheek pressed against Steve’s with this fucking grin on his face, like he’s so proud of himself.

“When I heard about you,” Billy grunts, “I didn’t think you’d be this fucking easy.” He punctuates the last word with a particularly rough thrust that’s got Steve’s toes curling in his shoes.

Steve couldn’t talk if he tried, brains too fuzzy with euphoria and fuck, is he drooling? Yep, he is. A string of saliva drips from his lips down onto the bathroom counter but he can’t be bothered to wipe his face, he can’t fucking move at all besides his hips. They keep pushing back to meet Billy’s thrusts.

Hargrove wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock and strokes him at the same pace he’s drilling into him. And fuck, fuck, oh fuck. Steve cries out, eyes squeezing shut as he spills spunk all over Billy’s fist. He’s never cum that quick in his life. He’s out to lunch, man. Seeing stars, seeing God. When he’s coming back to earth, Hargrove’s laughing, clearly pleased with himself. He bends Steve over the counter and hammers into him, hard and quick. The roughness of his hips slamming into the counter launch sharp pain down his legs and he’s crying out again, gripping onto the counter for dear fucking life. And then a totally new sensation has him babbling and moaning as Billy fills him with spunk, a guttural grunt falling on Steve’s ears. But as quick as he feels it, it’s gone. Billy’s pulling out of him and he feels a little pat on his head before he hears the door open and close. Steve sinks down to the floor, curling up in the fetal position as he processes what the fuck just happened. And he’s sobbing some more, his heart twisting with a pain he’s never felt before. His thighs are slick and sticky and his ass is fucking sore but worse than that, he’s alone. Steve feels used up, stupid and more confused than he’s ever been.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Whatta Man, Whatta Man, Whatta Man, Whatta Mighty Good Man

First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, saweetie, cozane, lilnasx, druski2funny, claybornharlow, dualipa, and 3,492,183 others

y/ninsta: Whatta Man, Whatta Man, Whatta Man, Whatta Mighty Good Man 😍😍😍

Whewww he get on my nerves sometimes, but he's mine and also happens to be fine as shit lol

jackharlow: forever and Always. love the fact that I'll be able to get on your nerves until the end of time. now come sit on my face 🤭 y/ninsta: jackharlow been getting on my nerves since we were fourteen and I wouldn't have it any other wayyy and say less lmao druski2funny: you two make me sick smh y/ninsta: druski2funny just because we told you last night that we found you in a dumpster doesn't mean you have to act outta pocket. we took you in and clothed and fed you. ungrateful ass. lilnasx: NOT THE DUMPSTER LMAOOOOO druski2funny: jackharlow get your wife! jackharlow: druski2funny you on your own my boy! claybornharlow: I mean I guess he's okay. if you're into that. dualipa: claybornharlow you get me. we're on the same page. jackharlow: dualipa claybornharlow and both of you can go play in traffic claybornharlow: jackharlow don't let your wife see that jackharlow: claybornharlow idc, she knows what this is dualipa: jackharlow you about to get your ass beat by her, just watch y/ninsta: JACKMAN THOMAS jackharlow: y/ninsta I was hacked baby 👉🏼👈🏼 y/ninsta: jackharlow hacked my ass. perfect example of you getting on my nerves. leave my little baby alone. all he does is mind his business jackharlow: y/ninsta SINCE WHEN? claybornharlow: 😇😇😇 jackharlow: claybornharlow walk to Mockingbird because I'm not picking you up y/ninsta: claybornharlow yes he is, go and get ready. just let me know if you have any problems jackharlow: 🙄🙄🙄🙄

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, jaysontatum, saweetie, generationnow, theestallion, softtcurse, theshaderoom, and 2,851,024 others

y/ninsta: I should kick yall asses

Exhibit A and Exhibit B why I can never find my bonnets

Their big ass heads are wearing them

And who let my man wear it out in public!?

PG, I'm looking at yall 🤨🤨🤨

quiiso: look I'm innocent, I warned him not to leave the house in it after I had to do a double take urbanwyatt: then you shouldn't leave them laying around all the time! shloob_: in his beauty supply run era saweetie: I CANNOT with the two of them lmao jackharlow: I thought I looked cute y/ninsta: jackharlow you did, but you're missing the point! now what am I supposed to use to cover my hair?! jackharlow: y/ninsta use Ivy's or Autumn's y/ninsta: jackharlow imma kick your ass for even SUGGESTING that. THEY HAVE BABY BONNETS NOT ADULT BONNETS. druski2funny: we all know he just lightskin. especially according to grandma kat y/ninsta: druski2funny my husband is pale as shit, ain't no way he's going to get around that jackharlow: no ragrets y/ninsta: jackharlow you know what this means, right? jackharlow: y/ninsta that I have to eat you out for an hour for stealing it? y/ninsta: jackharlow yes, but that wasn't my first thought. when I have to make my trips to the beauty supply store, your ass is coming and getting your own damn bonnet, you too urbanwyatt jackharlow: y/ninsta I need it personalized for it to say First Lady's husband y/ninsta: jackharlow why are you so unserious? saweetie: jack PLEASEEEEEE LMAO dualipa: y/ninsta surprised his head could fit inside of it jackharlow: dualipa I got a big one up top and down below and it fits where it needs to go every time just fine neelamthadhani: jackharlow EW SPARE US THE DETAILS y/ninsta: jackharlow 🤭🤭🤭🤭 jackharlow: neelamthadhani you got your nieces and nephew out of it didn't you?! jackharlow: y/ninsta baby you already know I can count on one hand how many times I've been serious in my life y/ninsta: jackharlow that's why I'm convinced you were dropped on your head as a baby

Liked by y/ninsta, saweetie, dualipa, lilnasx, urbanwyatt, druski2funny, claybornharlow, jessicakelce, theshaderoom, blancahood, and 2,374,007 others

jackharlow: me and my main man 😍😍😍

saweetie: he is so chunky and so cute! normani: yes to the matching shoes! urbanwyatt: wrong. that's my main man. his middle name is WYATT. y/ninsta: urby please. we know he's named after you but got damn smh jackharlow: urbanwyatt and his last name is HARLOW. stop playing with me smh urbanwyatt: y/ninsta that's my kid. you just had him for me y/ninsta: urbanwyatt imma get curse to kick your ass if you don't shut up y/ninsta: anyway LOOK AT MY BABIES 😍😍😍 quiiso: every since axel came out of y/ninsta urbanwyatt takes his godfather duties seriously urbanwyatt: quiiso they entrusted me with this job ever since we were sixteen, of course I'm going to take it seriously. now I'm coming to get him along with my two princesses. I'm loading them up with sugar and then dropping them back off in the driveway and then taking off jackharlow: urbanwyatt imma whoop your ass if you do that y/ninsta: urbanwyatt and they will literally be back on your doorstep and me and baby daddy are turning off our phones. don't play with us. urbanwyatt: jackharlow y/ninsta fine, just one ice cream cone each but autumn is fucking boujee and only likes frozen yogurt just like her mother smh y/ninsta: urbanwyatt AHT AHT! cut the shit! leave my baby alone! dualipa: aww look at my son! jackharlow: dualipa not you too because I don't have the energy for it today dualipa: jackharlow hand my child over. you know he adores his step mommy jackharlow: y/ninsta get her before I do y/ninsta: lmaoooo surprised clay isn't in here yet claybornharlow: y/ninsta you called? jackharlow: claybornharlow GO AWAY y/ninsta: jackharlow be nice! and claybornharlow yes I did! claybornharlow: when are yall going to realized the autumn is literally a small version of y/ninsta that looks like her father? (me) but she is boujee lmao jackharlow: claybornharlow you just asking me to kick your ass at this point claybornharlow: little baby over everybody! y/ninsta: behave you two!

Liked by y/ninsta, maggieharlow, lilnasx, urbanwyatt, cozane, selenosunni, privategarden, neelamthadhani, saweetie, and 4,296,770 others

jackharlow: Not Ivy coming into the room this morning and being like "where's mommy?" She wasn't satisfied with my answer and proceeded to sigh and look at me and say "but I'm hungry." I told her I would make her something and then she says, "daddy, not a good cook. I wait for mommy."

It be your own kids smh

claybornharlow: because we don't need my niece getting food poisoning lmaooooo y/ninsta: aww my oldest baby! mommy is on her way back to feed you! jackharlow: I've gotten better! y/ninsta: jackharlow baby the only person that ever eats your cooking is you quiiso: lmaoooo not y/ninsta throwing jack under the bus urbanwyatt: but y/ninsta needs to keep in mind that she had humble beginnings and couldn't cook for shit when we moved into our first apartment y/ninsta: urbanwyatt keep talking and I won't feed you until 2050 shloob_: well GOT DAMN urbanwyatt: y/ninsta don't get mad because I told the truth! yungskylark: now why do yall dumbasses always come for y/ninsta on the days that she's supposed to cook for us? SHUT THE FUCK UP SO WE CAN GET FED 2forwoyne: I second this jackharlow: I get fed anyway no matter what yall dumbasses do 😏 neelamthadhani: just a bunch of nasties saweetie: aww my baby Ivy knows the deal jackharlow: at least she let me finish doing her hair. she was walking around all last night with half of it done and wasn't trying to cooperate dualipa: jackharlow looks like you're getting this daddy this down pact jackharlow: dualipa I would hope so since y/ninsta's body decided to make three at one time y/ninsta: jackharlow BECAUSE OF YOUR FUCKING SUPER SPERM, DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE COME FOR ME jackharlow: y/ninsta I'm not, can we make another one? y/ninsta: jackharlow another WHAT?! jackharlow: y/ninsta never mind. I'll ask you later.

Liked by y/ninsta, jackharlow, lilnasx, urbanwyatt, jessicakelce, estgee, maggieharlow, blancahood, and 792,495 others

claybornharlow: y/ninsta Jack may give these to you, but they're from me

jackharlow: CLAYBORN! y/ninsta: aww they're so pretty. clay did you help him pick them out? claybornharlow: y/ninsta of course I did jackharlow: claybornharlow absolutely tired of your ass yungskylark: clay never lets jack live lmao jackharlow: yungskylark AT ALL! claybornharlow: he only bagged her because he saw her first, if the roles were reversed it would've been me y/ninsta: this is one rivalry that will never end despite how many times I tell them to cut it out dualipa: wait a minute, I thought those were from me? jackharlow: dualipa NO. EXIT STAGE LEFT. NO. dualipa: jackharlow your time is winding down. the first lady will be my first lady soon. jackharlow: dualipa over my dead fucking body y/ninsta: jackharlow thank you for my flowers smush! they're gorgeous. jackharlow: y/ninsta gorgeous flowers for my gorgeous wife claybornharlow: jackharlow for now y/ninsta: jackharlow I know people get tired of me. my man, my man, my man. how the fuck am I just looking at the back of you and want to rip your clothes off? urbanwyatt: NO jackharlow: y/ninsta I mean.... it is naptime for them..... y/ninsta: jackharlow SAY LESS

Liked by jackharlow, saweetie, theestallion, claybornharlow, urbanwyatt, 2forwoyne, shloob_, and 3,493,761 others

y/ninsta: gimme one margarita imma open my legs, gimme two margaritas imma give you some head jackharlow lmao 😜

jackharlow: OH jessicakelce: please shut up because you'll do all this anyway without any drinks involved y/ninsta: jessicakelce lmaooooo you right sis. my man shouldn't be so fine. urbanwyatt: the two of you will never let up jackharlow: umm y/ninsta I can order you a few margaritas if that's what you want 👀👀👀 y/ninsta: urbanwyatt daycare in my throat urbanwyatt: y/ninsta more like daycare in your house, but I get it blancahood: urbanwyatt PLEASEEEEEE y/ninsta: jackharlow no need, just bring your fine self here jackharlow: y/ninsta you know I'm already on my way saweetie: jackharlow can I get the triplets grills now for their birthday? jackharlow: saweetie when they turn 5 saweetie: FINALLY! they gotta be matching with their momma theestallion: why didn't you finish the caption?! 2forwoyne: GIMME THREE MARGARITAS IMMA PUT IT IN MY PUS quiiso: GIMME FOUR MARGARITAS IMMA PUT IT IN MY TUSH urbanwyatt: GIMME FIVE MARGARITAS IMMA HAVE SOME FUN y/ninsta: lmaoooo I know my PG babies always got me! dualipa: y/ninsta you can use my face as a seat at any time jackharlow: dualipa blow torch and flame thrower were just delivered to the house, choose your next words carefully dualipa: jackharlow would your wife happen to be a squirter too? urbanwyatt: OH MY DAMN LMAO jackharlow: DUA!

Liked by y/ninsta, maggieharlow, normani, sza, blancahood, traviskelce, theshaderoom, quiiso, and 4,293,018 others

jackharlow: can you tell all three of them are spoiled as hell? Autumn at grandma Kat's house and she tells me she's not done with her spa treatment and needs for me to paint her nails oh and feed her grapes

I literally had another version of my wife

Ivy is finished and is upstairs eating her lunch

y/ninsta: WHO SET HER UP WITH ALL THAT?! and so what! jackharlow: y/ninsta GRANDMA KAT! imma do it though. she asked me for purple and green nails. saweetie: jackharlow y/ninsta has you wrapped around her finger and now the babies do too lmao urbanwyatt: y/ninsta tell your grandma I'm pulling up 👀 2forwoyne: urbanwyatt aye! get me some of those rice krispy treats she got! y/ninsta: urbanwyatt yes she'll be excited to see her favorite customer urbanwyatt: 2forwoyne I got you sza: HER LITTLE CHAIR. I CAN'T. YALL KIDS ARE TOO ADORABLE. claybornharlow: jackharlow you had enough practice with painting y/n's nails while she was pregnant because she couldn't see them. you should be fine. y/ninsta: claybornharlow it took a little bit of practice but he got better jessicakelce: NOT AUTUMN TELLING YOU TO FEED HER GRAPES jackharlow: jessicakelce YOUR NIECE IS THE DEFINITION OF SPOILED y/ninsta COME GET THIS BABY y/ninsta: jackharlow nope. mama's busy. jackharlow: y/ninsta doing WHAT? y/ninsta: jackharlow stuff. I'll see yall later. going out with Jess and B. byeeeeee jackharlow: y/ninsta not the hot chips and bad decisions crew smh

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

@cockslutslurper3000

@raelorns21

@variety-fangirl

@gbaabyyyy

@kamorsstuff

@harlowthot

@sinsandsuccubus

@curlyhairclub

@bootlegroach

@haylexo10

@thinkingaboutjharlow

@fluidsentiment

@charli123456789

@moody4world

@yourstrulymayah

@yana4life

@beanbagbitch

@alinaharlow

@carma-fanficaddict

@minaxcarter

@arination99

@xjup1t3r

@venusvinc

@jacksmoviestar

@jackharloww

@midnight-star47

@minkookie95

@inluvwithladybug

@exoticr0ses

@jharlowsangels

@jackierose902109

@jackmansbabymama

@cmalass

@megawhoree

@softtcurse

@sia2raw

@miniaturehideoutmentality

@hoya122

@nattinatalia

@jackslover12

@skyesthebomb

@jackharlows-world

@louisianalady

@fdl305

@automaticpeachsong

@harlowcomehome

@gassyandsassy1

@babygirlwilly

@amethyst09

@harrycanyonmoonn

@toocriticalharlow

@tattered-tales

@sisiking99

@dessxoxsworld

@gillybear17

@jacksdaycare

@iheartharlow

@disaster-rose

@babyvinnie

@evansxchalamet

@chtkmyharlow​

@itsyagirljaz

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@awhore4moree

@a-moment-captured

@jackmans-poison

@valentinqee

@lightsoutstyles

@j-worlds-blog

[ijustreallylikepirates]

DCASE20 !!!

-“this episode has sensitive topics” that’s not concerning at all odd nation cartoons not concerning at all

-TEAM JAKE LETS GO

-yall don’t wanna hear me cheering for Jake rn

-bruh Emily stop dragging Trevor like that

-EMILY WTH ARE YOU DOING

-WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO THROW TREVOR OFF THE CLIFF???

-bruh Emily I can’t like you girl

-Ally and Jake actually getting along what a miracle

-Riya you don’t deserve that fucking breakfast

-NO WHAT

-JAKE TRIED TO KILL HIMSELF???

-POOKIE WHY

-“very sus of you to say Riya” EEWWWWW

-I can’t stand Riya

-TJ I SEE YOU

-WE LOVE YOU TOMJAKE FANKID

-Riya having a tiny fanbase is wild 💀

-Jake having the biggest fanbase is so iconic

-THE JAKE CHEER???

-LET ME GET IN ON THAT

-LET THEM DO THE FUCKING JAKE CHEER OML

-YEAH JAKE WE LOVE YOU

-OH YEAH ROMAN COLOSSEUM

-WE LIVE WE LOVE WE LIE

- LMAO ALLY GETTING CUT OFF WITH THE BAG IM GONE

-AW DEREK REMINISCING ON HIS TIME WITH TREVOR IN SEASON ONE

-TREVEK PARALLEL???

-I’m so normal about them (I’m not)

-NOT TREVOR IN THE FUCKING TREE IM DEAD

-“aw son of a bi…scuit” you’re gay

-I just made up a trevek kiss chant

-yall definitely don’t want to hear it

-FIORE IN A BUN THATS SO CUTE

-“watch it 😡” eat him up girl pls i hate you too but keep humbling him for your dad

-“I love walking across shaky planks 😅😰” LMAOOO

-the romantic tension between Riya and Yul is insane

-YAY

-I LOVE WHEN YUL FALLS DOWN FROM GREAT HEIGHTS

-what happened to Yul’s burn did shit just disappear???

-YEAH JAKE YOU EAT

-Emily

-the sigh that I just sighed rn is insane

-“my nails are getting callouses 😩😡” are you sure you’re straight honey

-no way these two are just fighting like children rn

-this challenge is giving season 1 finale

-THERE WERENT SUPPOSED TO HE SCORPIONS???

-I’m gonna hunt Emily down

-PLEASE

-PLEASE GET RIYA OUT

-THE WAY YUL SCREAMS MAKES ME GIGGLE I CANT DO IT

-ITS SO FUCKING FUNNY

-why are these two still running with their arms up like npcs wtf

-yul why the fuck did you jinx that

-JAKE???

-JAKE ISTG

-TREVOR AND DEREK THE ICONS

-ICONIC DUO

-EW DEREK THAT LAUGH

-Emily go away stop being a bitch for two seconds

-“and I love him” THE GAYS THE SILLIES THE HOMOSEXUALS

-DEREK LOVES HIM TOO HE BLUSHED HE LIKED THAT KISS

-AW YEAH JAKE YOU GOT THIS

-YEAH GRAN EMILY TAKE HER AWAY

-AW WERE TREVOR AND DEREK HOLDING HANDS

-PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GET RIYA OUT

-IM BEGGING PLEASEEEEEE

-Ally you eat

-I love you girl keep slaying

-JAKE NO

-I HAD FAITH IN YOU DUDE

-I BELIEVED IN YOU

-COME ON HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

-JAIDEN I LOVE THEM

-ALLY THANK YOU FOR LOSING YOUR GEMS

-JAKE I BELIEVE IN YOU STILL

-LETS GO JAKE

-WE WONNN

-TREVOR DEREK KISS RN

-AW THEYRE HOLDING HANDS THE SILLIES ILL EXPLODE RN

-KRISTAL YOU BITCH THEY WERE ABOUT TO KISS

I LOVED THIS EPISODE

JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE

TREVEK TREVEK TREVEK TREVEK TREVEK TREVEK TREVEK TREVEK TREVEK TREVEK TREVEK TREVEK TREVEK TREVEK TREVEK

TEAM JAKE COME ON JAKE LETS GO

[ughgoaway]

the sick dad matty blurb omfg ACE i’m literally unwell at the thought of mopey messy hair matty falling asleep in ur lap and being so flustered at u seeing him like that- brb fucking crying

also speaking of which genuinely insane timing how you always post smth after i’ve had a very long shift i swear theyre really the one thing i look forward to the most after work 😭😭 uninterrupted horizontal time with ur blurbs it’s true it literally is my fav thing-

also perhaps an extension of sick dad! matty but i just can’t shake the idea of teacher reader being worried about him still and asking annie about it at school the next day and annie just randomly drops a bombshell in the way kids do and says smth like ‘oh daddys so much better today! he’s all smiley and said that you chased the bad coughing monster away for him- can you come do that every time? daddy’s never had anyone do that before’ and it just b r e a ks teacher reader completely pls anyways crying throwing up

(- bff anon also has the can’t shut up disease i fear 😭）

OMG, IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT BFF!!! I just need to look after this man.

like imagine he eventually wakes up and its like 9pm at that point so you're like "okay let's get you to bed" and he's all sad and pouty and says "only if you stay over with me" but he's still half asleep and doesn't quite process what he said for a good few seconds...

wide-eyed, he tries to backtrack, "wait- I'm so sorry I didn't mean it like that! obviously, we haven't slept together yet, but- NO, NOT LIKE 'SLEPT TOGETHER' SLEPT TOGETHER!!! I MEANT LIKE JUST SLEEPING!!! ohmygod-"

you're like "no that sounds nice, let's go upstairs," and matty is silently freaking out bc you're gonna be in his bed. with him. sleeping. he's thought about this scenario 1000 times, and none of them included him being dealthy ill and not having nice sheets on the bed first.

(more rambles below the cut as always)

you get matty to brush his teeth and get ready for bed, even rubbing some moisturiser on him (he just sits there with a dopey grin as you apply)

he always thought you'd be on his chest or he'd be spooning you, but he ends up with his face buried between your boobs and he's out within 10 mins.

oh and the morning after... so much potential...

I must have spidey senses for when you're at work bff!!! the fact that my blurbs make you so happy you look forward to them??? brb vomiting???? that is so kind. horizontal time on tumblr is my fav too, its unmatched.

OH, LITTLE ANNIE TALKING ABOUT HIM PLEASEEEEEE-

I can see her spending the night at hanns bc matty doesn't want her to get ill and doesn't trust George or Ross to keep her overnight.

"Do you even know what 5 year olds eat??"

"bro, why dont you trust us???"

"Yeah... like mushed carrots and shit right. "

you put the kids to work colouring something but secretly call Annie over yo your desk, "hi Annie! I just wanted to ask how your daddy is today, I know he's been a bit poorly"

"...please take her Adam"

she immediately lights up and starts chattering away, "Oh, daddy said he's feeling much better today. he even made me my toast this morning, and he was all smiley the whole time!!! he said you made him all better and played nurse!! can you do that every time he's poorly? he's much happier when you are his nurse than when he goes to the doctors"

obviously, internally you're like "ohmygod he really likes me, and I made him feel better. oh, he couldn't stop smiling, and annie noticed because he was so happy and -"

but externally, you play it cool like, "Oh, that's great, sweetheart! I'm sure next time he's poorly, you can help him feel better too"

Annie is like, "Oh!! I hope he's poorly again soon, I wanna play doctors with you!!!"

you try not to laugh at her wishing her dad ill and just send her back to her desk, but the grin doesn't leave your face all day. thinking about the fact you made matty giddy makes you just as giddy as him.

the next day a bouquet of flowers show up at your door with a note,

"dear nurse y/n,

thank you for coming to look after me even after I cancelled our date. whilst I am slightly mortified you saw me looking like that, I'm more grateful for your help. you made being sick worth it. Spending any time with you is always worth it.

love, matty x

ps, I hope the next time you stay in my bed, I'm substantially less sick, and we're both wearing substantially less clothes ;)"

[shcatsscratches]

HIIIIII so I'm currently trying to fast but I ended up caving in yesterday and today so I feel like I gained a shit tom of pounds.

I've always dreamed of having this perfect body for prom and in general and now my mission is to lose at least 30-50lbs before May 10. I would love some advice on how I can get to that goal so please spam my comments.

Tumblr is a safe space for me currently and I love all you guys thin$po and low ca1 meals. I'm 195lbs and need to get to at least 130lbs. before prom, but to also get my perfect body.

I crave for thin legs and huge thigh gaps. I've been in love with skinny bodies because I dream of me having on too if you understand.

My parents has also been on me about how I eat so little but yet I feel So fat. Help me and I'll help you guys pleaseeeeee.

[chososcamgirl]

this one’s a long one.. heh… 😈 hope ur ready to hear me yap abt (mainly) toge 🤤‼️

HEYHEYHEY SIGMA ALPHA IYA OH MY GYATTT THE NEW CHAPTER WAS SO 🫣😍😩 HAD ME BARKING N SHIT.. THE SUKUNA PART??? HELLO??? I fear we may have fumbled… OK BUT LIKE IM SO HOOKED CANT WAIT FOR NEXT CHAPTER CUS I CAN ALREADY SMELLLLL THE TENSION3&33$3!3?3 THE TOGE PART… LITERALLY ON THE FLOOR. ALL 4.. ARR RT HTJRSTSHDTJJTDDTJDTJJDTTDJYDTJDTDJ WAKING UP RO A NEW CHALTER IS ALWAYS YHE BESTTTT I LIT JUST GOT UP SO NO DAILY YAP 😣😣 UGHHH UR PLAYLISTS ALWAYS FUCKING HIT IM LITERALLLY HAVING AN EARGASM RN 😩‼️🐺😈🔥 LIKE I SWEARRRRR IF SOUNDMATES WERE REAL WE WOULD B MATCHED 😈🔥‼️CUS I WONT ALLOW A STEPCEST INDULGER SLIDE IN MY DMS… UGHEBEBEJEBBE IM LITERALLY DROOLING 🤤 UR FEEEDING US GOOOOODDDD MGMTMMFPPHHHHH 😣🤤‼️😈 IM SO 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 FOR TOGE PLEASEEEEEE MATCH MY FREAAKKKKK MEOWOOOWWWWWWW… oh and uh… megumi’s there too ig… 😒😒 UGHH ANYWAY IM LITERALLLY FEINING RNNNN 🤤😩‼️🔥 I NEEEEEEEDDDDDDD A NEW CHAPTER ASAPPPPPEEKEJNENR ILY IYA THANK YOU FOR PROVIDING US WITH A FEASSSSSTTTTTTT IM LITERALLY IN FUCKING HEATTTT AURGHHHHHH ILYSM IYAAA ILL KILL U IF U DIE 👿👿 SUKUNA AS YNs EX IS SO PERFECT LIKE UGHHHH I LOVE HOW UR BRAIN WORKS WERE LITERALLY TELEPATHIC LIEK STOP MATCHING MY FREAKK SO WELLL UGHHH IM ALMOST THEREEE 😩 AND THE SOMF YOU CHOSE FOR THE TITLE?? UGHHHH ILYSMMMM SHES MY COLLAR IS LITERALLY MYYYY SHITTTTT OMGGGGG U MATCH MY 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 SOOO WELLL IM SO DOWN BAD FOR TOGE PLEASEEEEEE… FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FOR HIMMMM ARGHHHH EVERYTHING ABT THE CHAPTER WAS BEYOND PERFECTION 🤤🙂‍↕️ARBRBRRBHRHRJSIEJE IM BARKINGGGGGGG FOR TOGE PLEASEEEEEE UGHHH THE COMPLIMENT AND THE HUG… DONT stop I’m SOOOOO CLOSEEEEE 😖😩🤤‼️… GIVE ME ONE CHANCE ILL LITERALLY START PRAYING AND SPIRITUALLY CONNECTING MYSELF SO HE NOTICES ME.. 😼😼

ANYWAYYS… HOW ARE YOU IYAAAAAA??? HOPE U ATE WELL AFTER FEEDING US SO GOOODDDDD ARBRBRBRBRJJEBE I LOVEEEE U SM I WANT TO CRAWL IN YOUR SKIN AND THRIVE IN YOUR BRAIN SO I GET EVERY SINGLE IDEA YOU HQVE FOR SJAPPPP I WAS WAITING FOR THE CHAPYET I FELL ASLEEP IN MY MAKEUP BUt ITS OKAY CUS I WOKE UP TO A NEW CHAPTERRR UGHHH I LIT LOVE U AND TOGE SMMMM FEINNINGGGG 🤤🤤🤤🤤 VRO MY RECENTLY USED EMOJIS ARE SOOO FREAKY BECAUSE OF THE NEW CHAPTER UGHH IDECCC IM SO CLOSEEEEEE.. OK IM GONNA GO TAKE OFF MY MAKEUP NOW 😣😔😭 BYE IYA SIGMAAA ILYSMMM IM GONNA FLY TO AUSTRALIA AND GIVE YOU THE WETEST KISSESSSS 🤤😩😍

- 🐺

HI ALPHA!!! 🐺🐺🐺

i just finished work!!! i was saving this to answer after incase i had a bad day at work (i didn’t) so DOUBLE YAY. let’s begin😈 LMFAOO im glad you like it! i was STRUGGLING to excecute my vision like it took a lot out of me to finish that chapter HELP but i’m happy with it and im glad it’s out now!! the tension was THICK let me tell u that. i loved the cliffhanger at the end bc i love edging yall 😏😏 LOL toge seems like a fan favourite along with sukuna now surprisingly. I WILL NOT DIE!! unless panda’s bounty changes to me… i’m WEAK😭 u r so funny alpha pls never die or ill have to kill off toge in honour of u💔

it’s always goddamn hot in there idk if that’s just me but i’m always HOT😭 work was okay i was just covering the lunch breaks and then i get to go home :3 i am eating rn actually! rice paper rolls mmmm. i will let u live in my brain🙂‍↕️ NOT U FALLUNG ASLEEP IN UR MAKEUP OMF THATS THW WORST FOR ME😭 LMFAO it’s bc UR freaky 🫵 yes i will greet u at the airport with balloons and a big sign saying “welcome home alpha”😏 i hope ur day was good alpha! lmk!! also did u end up finding ur airpods… also the teacher! tell meeee!! <3333 iya out !!!

[lexysstorm]

Live thoughts while reading Thunder:

- why did frostpaw just use the word hours?

- please gay frostwhistle please

- goosegrass? I think thats a new one.

- AAAAAA i just want to read frostpaw pov shes the only one im interested in but ill give the others a shot

- LILYHEARTTTT queen

- if squif doesnt become leader i will be very unhappy

- OMG IVYPOOL DEPUTY????

- ok but why is night going with them i dont see a point

- i really really really hate the decision to pair sun with night it doesnt feel earned. Just let sun be in shadow its so much more interesting there

- ok sunbeam show me whatcha got

- stop being stinky lionblaze

- BAHAHHA BERRYHEART????

- ok she kinda right tho- does look kinda desperate sun im sorry girl you dont need no man

- ok i like spark and finch WOOO

- really love how berryheart trespassed just to whine at sun for leaving

- FROSTPAWWWW

- i dont remember smoky being this nice but ok

- FROSTPAW KIDNAPPED BY PEOPLE???

- FINALLY someone brings tree up in all this

- thats a HILARIOUS trial idea actually

- THE KIT SWEARING LMAOO

- finchsun please

- i think its kinda dumb that riverstar is here ngl- then again i didn't read his super edition

- OH MY GOD SHE GOT SPAYED?? IM

- theres goes my frostwhistle😭😭😭

- another traveling book im

- LMAOOOO NIGHTHEART IS SUCH A BAD CAT???? Hes going for fame😭😭😭😭BROOO

- oh my GODDDDD sunbeam girlie PLEASEEEEEE LEAVE HIS ASS AFTER THIS IM BEGGING

- OH MY GOD SQUIRRELSTAR????? HOLY FUCK

- STOP BEING A BITCH LIGHTLEAP

- i am actually very interested to see what tree comes up with for a solution

- what if frostpaw brings a cat back from the forest territories to be riverclans leader wouldnt that be STUPID

- OTTER MOMENT

- usual nightheart L

- ok i have a pool and a cat that goes outside and the pool cover does NOT bend under her weight💀💀💀theyre made to support a humans weight just in case (i think, dont try that)

- yeah frost is kind of carrying you night step up ur game

- dovewing ur right to be defensive queen- kind of shitty of ivy to be kind of trying to use her like that even if i do like ivy,,,

- omg "im not letting you manipulate me into manipulating him!" PERIOD QUEEN

- berryhearttttttt whatre you planninggggg

- cherry fall is right just give it a lil shove- im sure they could aim the rock to not hit a den

- i bet the black cat that refused to eat with the park cats will be rcs next leader but that's a crack theory

- meditating cats

- ok well. Why cant she just. Learn everything she needs to abt meditation real quick then go back to rc

- WERENT YOU SHADOWCLAN LAST WEEK HAHAHAHAH FROSTPAW

- YOURE NOT GOING TO SHOW US HOW SHE REALIZED??????????? HELLO?????

- oh nevermind okay

- "ive always known" SUREEEE unless im forgetting something from previous books, you didnt suspect a THING frost

- ok so her name is rook, ill remember that

- wait. Waffle. Waffle that won the contest? WAFFLEPAW????

- Worse than you imagined??? what does THAT mean

- READY AS ILL EVER BE

- cherrfall sus

- Cherryfall?????

- OH MY GOD QUEEN SHIT SUNBEAM HOLY SHIT

- sunbeam u really need to tell someone what youve seen and heard istg

- wow the big reveal nobody saw coming. HEY i DO like the idea though! Frost getting manipulated by her mother and a cat she loved is pretty fun to read, more interesting than nightheart. Even sunbeams pov has been pretty fun. Honestly if night didnt have a pov/wasnt a main character i would love this arc a lot more! And if sun didnt switch clans smh MAKE HER GAY HUNTERS

- ok well. Frostpaw. Dont. Do it. In rc camp??? Do it at a gathering- so EVERYONE knows

- oh my god is she actually gonna do that?? Lets go????

- oh my GOD NO WAY ARE THEY GOING TO VOTE HIM OUT??? TIGERSTAR II IMPEACHMENT????????

- wait dont the medcats have to be w the impeachment squad or am i misremembering

- ok good someone brought it up, but there should be a rule that if the medcat is closely related to leader they should be excused bc of conflict of interest right?

- YESSSS PUDDLESHINE

- uhuh SUREEEEE podlight

- NONONONONONONONONONONONONO

- THATS IT?????? BRUHHHH

[mypoisonedvine]

YOU’RE MY NEW FAV WRITER OML the things I would do for cillian Murphy PLEASEEEEEE

I used to feel so guilty about being into dark twisted shit but I’ve come to terms with it and now I just eat this content up OML

Do you know when the jackson rippner fic will be out??? I cant WAIT

I'm so so glad you've enjoyed the fic(s) so far! I used to feel guilty too, I'm glad you're able to indulge completely now :) as for the jackson fic, I worked on it today and got it to about 3k, my only fear is that it's too similar to the scarecrow fic? but frankly there are worse problems to have lmao so I'll keep working on it and I definitely think I can get out it within the next week but I obviously don't wanna promise anything until it's done.

thank you for the kind words 😊

[blkkizzat]

AHHDSDKFHSDKLFHSKDFHK.... IM NOT OKAYYYYY!!!!

firstly can we talk about the opening video!?!? omg its on repeat i love that it feels like an american horror story opening with the like characters and the imagery, set the stage so perfect *chefs kiss*

x

So you know those old ass teen books "chicken soup for the soul" well i feel like this was "smut soup for the soul" as the creole in me was literally summoned. like i really felt like i was back in nola at muriel's. you did this idea sm justice ahhhhhhh! knowing the lore too it fit him so well 🥹����

x

also its official..we are definitely the two worst members of the 'gojo saturo hate club' because why do we do this!?!? lmfaoo why do you write him this way!!? stawwwwwp making me like him 💗😭. i loved the whole cat and mouse appearance with him scaring the shit out of her and the flashbacks.

the fact he was such fuckin perv WHILE she is working midday is crazy—and i ate it right tf up.

x

"“to not drink the stupid bitch juice, but with each stroke, each tormenting touch, your resolve crumbled more and more.”

fhdfkjhsdfhj lmfao *me literally CHUGGING stupid bitch juice like its going out of stock and plotting how to buy muriel's from its current owners so me and ghost gojo can live happily together forever.*

x

“ needing to be as close to you as possible as he grasped the fat of your ass between his fingers. "Fuck, love," he said, damn-near delirious. "I would've made you a wife in my first time.”

this nigga bout to get a wife right now if he dont stop playin. fdjkhjdsgb like im so down horrendous. ahhh and the way you wrote their interactions. him having a soft spot for her and like just wanting to eat her out over getting his dick wet (not that he didnt want that and i would have been like "what fuckin friend" if i was reader fhdsfjkhsfdjs).

likeeee got me on my "yes i do the cooking, yes i do the cleaning" make yo table so good every night baby i promise

x

 Cooing into your folds, slurping your juices like a refreshment, making you completely surrender, his name slipping from your lips in a desperate, needy whisper. 

WHY IS HE SIPPING ON ME LIKE A COOL MINT JULEP HSDFJKSDHFGJSDKF SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY IN FUCKING DEED. I creamed at this frrrrr.

x

so when is the ghost!gojo x reader spin off ??? or he could help herrr out more. you know nola has this lore that if you go to haunted houses and technically its not even inside. you dont even have to enter them you cant even walk under the balcony awnings of them on the sidewalk and a ghost can attach itself to you djkhsfadjksfgajsdhf. true story as the tour guide wouldnt even take us on the same side of the street as the Delphine house, he said we could go over there if we wanted to ourselves and he was CREOLE thru and thru so i fully believed he believed it sjkhgdjhsfgj. gojo needs to follow her tho if she try to leave nola without him omg pleaseeeeee.

im down so horrendously bad khfsdkjfhsd. ignore me 😩🩷

i wanna fucking tear you apart

Vampire SuguChoso x Reader|Halloween Special Three-Shot

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3

the deets: oh god, where do we begin? let's start in the home of the supernatural, shall we? the great city of New Orleans. and you are absolutely about to shit bricks for having to return here, and not for a reason any sane person would believe. you don't even want to say it out loud and make it real, make them real. but you have to find them, someone's life is at stake if you don't. and the worst part? you reluctantly have to rely on someone, something you've spent years convincing yourself was just a figment of your imagination. be careful reader—or not, you seem to get off on that—because you're about to walk headfirst into something that's going to change your entire world and make you question everything you swore you'd never believe in. w.c: issa surprise. whoever gets the closest, gets a drabble of their choice (restrictions apply. i have to be familiar with the show/story. drop an ask to participate :3) tags: summoning ritual w/ special guest possessive Ghost Gojo who is annoying asf as always but even moreso bc now he can bounce all over the place, ghostly touches, hands up skirts, no bathroom privacy?, taunting and flirting through sexual assault, he's obsessed with your smell and is a panty-sniffer 🧍🏾‍♀️, cunnilingus, fingering, P in V and literally getting the breath knocked out of you, creampie? (you'll understand), coercion for a taste, rutting, and you don't know if you hate him for all of it by the end of the beginning of your journey angel’s note: Satoru...please.. earworm 🐛: tonight you belong to me remix, or the original by Patience and Prudence, it's creepier in my opinion but such a great song

—Believing—

You don't believe in vampires.

So why in the entire fuck are you standing outside of a restaurant hoping you'll be able to talk to a ghost?

You glance up at the sinking sun, the sky bruising with dusk as the nervous tap of your heel against the cobblestone almost syncs with your heart.

Be cool, be cool.

Surely no one's noticed you sitting here for the past 30 minutes, fidgeting with your fingers, mentally pacing back and forth trying to decide if you'll walk through those doors you haven't opened in 6 years.

Those pale green doors that hold centuries worth of secrets that can never escape.

Including...

But what if all of that was just in your head?

You were younger back then, new to New Orleans, and all those stories, legends, and creepy tales could have easily messed with your head.

No.

You know what you saw.

What you felt.

What you heard. His voice. That smile...

Your chest feels like a knot tied too tight, yet a strange hope flutters beneath the nerves.

Hope that the past wasn't just some weird trick your mind played on you.

Because you could never forget it.

You just hope he hasn't forgotten you.

You take a breath watching the sun finally slip behind the horizon of the place of your eerie past. The old, chipped sign still hanging crooked above the door, and wrought-iron lanterns cast orange halos on the cracked sidewalk.

Closing time is near, and so is the truth you came here for.

But will this be another bust? Or will you finally get to confirm that all of it was real?

It has to be, he has to be...because he's the only one who can help you find where they are. If they even truly exist.

And the second you finally muster up the strength to face and push through those heavy, creaking doors, there's no turning back.

Walking in feels like you've gone back in time, and everything is just as you left it.

"Hi, welcome to Muriel's." The hostess greets you with a smile that you try to reflect back, hoping that she won't notice your nerves—or worse, that someone from your past will recognize you. "Just to let you know, we will be closing in about 30 to 35 minutes but you are welcome to dine in or takeout." And her eyes drift over your less-than-formal attire, a slight flicker of curiosity in her expression, but the pleasant smile never wavers.

You clear your throat. "Dine in, please," you say, and she reluctantly nods, tucking a menu and silverware under her arm before leading you through the over-the-top space—each step digging you further into the rabbit hole. The details of what you left behind, propels you back in the past. And suddenly you're 19 again, juggling plates and wiping down tables under the watchful gaze of the old regulars. When you last worked here.

The hum of conversation fills the space, but you tune it out, your eyes scanning for familiar things. What the restaurant purposefully lacks on the outside, is equally lacking on the inside.

The tables, dressed in those heavy burgundy cloths. The stuffy velvet chairs, more decoration than comfort. The twinkling glass chandelier that always sparkled a little too brightly for the dark, moody space, and the drapey curtains, still tacky as ever, decorate the walls and clash between the old-world elegance and overdone theatrics.

The bar stools are still worn in the same places, and the corner booth where the kitchen staff would gather to sneaks shots of whiskey after closing still stands strong.

You don't see anyone you recognize—thankfully—but the atmosphere still feels the same. Especially when it seems like the walls are watching you, their quiet judgment as thick and heavy as the air filled with the smell of fried shrimp, garlic, and something bitterly sweet, like old wine left to ferment for too long.

Walking past the table where you used to sit with your tips, counting down the hours until closing and sweet escape, feels heavy, and every step after is like pulling back a curtain on memories you buried deep, unsure if they ever really even happened. But every flicker of light, every clink of glass, makes your heart race just a little. Confirming some kind of PTSD because even if your brain doesn't remember, your body does.

The whispers. The rattling. The presence. Always there, but never seen.

Showing up here almost every single day was definitely the bane of your existence, but you couldn't just quit, not back then.

You needed the money to make ends meet, especially when you chose to go to school out of state.

A broke college student struggling to stay afloat in the wild and "haunted" streets of New Orleans where every shadow told a story and every corner whispered a myth.

NOLA, of all places: home of the supernatural you've never believed, and yet here you are, purposely choosing to have a seat at its table. And nervously glancing over at thee table, perfectly set as if waiting for someone special, yet desolate and tucked away from the rest, the phantom feeling of what happened there years ago creeping through your body as you pick at your meal and try to ignore the urge to bolt on what you think is the stupidest plan you've ever had in your entire life.

By the time you finish up, your heart is pounding, but despite being the worst place you've ever worked in, the food is still as good as you remembered, always feeling like a home you've never visited, soothing your body and making you fight tendrils of sleep.

The restaurant quiets as the final patrons start to leave, you remaining as one of the last stragglers. You pay your tip, stack your dishes out of habit, and now the real waiting begins. "Shut up, shut up," you say to your gut feeling. "I can do this." And you take one last deep breath, bracing yourself as you head toward where everything first went down: the bathroom.

The long, narrow corridor seems darker than ever, the black walls and red carpet only adding to the sense of isolation where you'll be camping out until closing.

You catch a glimpse in the large mirror and pause, barely recognizing yourself—nerves tightening your expression, tension locking your shoulders.

You look like you've already seen the ghost you've come to meet, but give yourself a reassuring head nod, though it feels hollow. And with that, you enter the stall where it all began., Of all the places to meet a ghost...it had to be while you were hovering over a toilet set. That perv.

Crouching into place, you pull your knees into your chest, steadying while listening to the sounds of the restaurant closing—clattering dishes, murmuring voice—all mingling with your thumping heartbeat.

This is so stupid. you think, hiding in here like this, feeling so ridiculous you try not to laugh at the sheer stupidity of it all. But thinking of backing out now and being like "Oops, my bad." to the staff feels even crazier. You're officially in too deep to turn back now.

You shift in your spot and try to get comfortable, knowing that closing can take quite a while in a place this large and "fancy". But your anxiety is not having it, and you nearly lose your balance, your feet slipping and almost falling into the bowl. You curse, gripping the sides of the stall and you freeze, swearing that you heard a snicker.

You huff and shake your head like an Etch-a-Sketch. Knowing you must be hearing things but fuck, how long is this going to take?

It's nerve-wracking when the staff do finally come in to do bathroom checks, but after what feels like an eternity, you're sure the coast is finally clear and you creep out of the stall, the restaurant eerily still now that it's fully closed as you make your way out. Ready to sit at the table you've been staring holes into all evening.

The velvet rope falls to the side as you part the way. Your fingers trail over the cold cutlery on the table—the finest in the restaurant, decked with gold trim and sitting on porcelain platters. A small smile tugs at your lips. He's always been the type to require the finer things, even in death. Though you're surprised he hasn't turned the place upside down at the slight wrinkle you catch in the tablecloth.

You sink into the chair, the soft and barely worn cushion molding beneath you, almost welcoming you to the table amidst the unsettling darkness, quickly urging you to pull out your candle and a pair of lace panties. Doubts swarm your mind, but you begin anyway, preparing to start the ritual you've never tested before and solely banking on what you've come to know and what you've experienced.

But what if he doesn't show up?

He hasn't the last few times you've visited, and this...this is the most extreme measure you've taken so far.

If this doesn't work, then nothing will, and you hold your breath as you give the match a hard look before striking it, watching the flame cast a glow in the shadows before bringing it to the wick and lighting the darkness.

The restaurant seems even more disturbing as you glance around in the dark. Watching, waiting for any movement, any indication of a presence, of his presence. He's never been predictable, so good at surprises and keeping you on your toes as you worked your shifts from the sun up until it set late at night. Giving you the biggest of scares the first time you felt a brush of your ankle in the bathroom. Thank God you were already on the toilet.

Now, all you can do is wait. Wait and hope that tonight is diff—

Goosebumps rise on your skin and that PTSD kicks in again, catching a glimmer of light in the corner of your eye as a sudden chill creeps in, slithering over your skin. It's subtle at first, like a draft through an open window, but intensifies quickly, and you feel the temperature drop by several degrees. The hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention, and for a second, you swear you can see your breath fog in the dim light of the unnatural cold.

Your arms cross over your chest, instinctively rubbing warmth into your skin, and just when you go to wrap the sweater you brought around your body, it hits you—that smell you could never forget or find anywhere else. Heavy, almost suffocating. Filling your nose and seeping into every breath when you hear his voice echoing out of nowhere.

"Panties for dinner?" The voice curls around you, laced with that same mischievous edge you remember from years ago.

"Shit!" Your stomach plummets into your ass when you look up. Across the room, in the dim reflection of a nearby mirror, you see him. White, ghostly hair sitting atop a tall, slim figure, his form hazy around the edges like smoke threatening to dissipate.

You can't make out all of him, but the presence is unmistakable. And standing right behind you.

You can't even breathe, frozen, staring at the mirror and his sly grin. But when your fight kicks in and you whip around, there's nothing, just empty air and your hot breath floating in it, and you nearly pee yourself when you turn back and he's sitting right across from you. Calm, composed, and smug as ever, resting in his favorite seat in the house. Reserved just for him.

He leans back, white cotton-clad arms crossing behind his head, his ghostly form flickering in and out of the dim light. Almost making him completely translucent save for the reflection in his circular sunglasses. "I know times are changing but—" he tilts them down to eye the lace panties you've laid out. "Even I wouldn't think of adding such a delicacy to the menu."

You release a breath you didn't know you were holding. "Hello, Gojo."

His name feels foreign, yet familiar on your tongue, and though you were just scared out of your wits, relief washes over you. Because you're not crazy. Not then, and not now.

He's real, and now eyeing you up and down as if you're the next thing on the menu.

Seeing him brings back a flood of memories—memories of late-night shifts, of him toying with you when no one else would be bothered.

Though you've never been the type to believe in anything you can't see, working here taught you differently, and you learned that ghosts are surprisingly easy to find. Or at least, it's easy for them to find you.

He laughs. "Damn, really?" raising a brow, "What's with the formalities?"

"Look at you," he says, his voice a soft puff as he leans forward, elbows resting on the table. His pale blue eyes gleam with something between amusement and enticement, lingering as he takes you in. "All grown up," he pops. "And here after all these years. I didn't think you'd have the guts to do it...and bring such...interesting offerings." His lips curl into a slow smirk, the weight of his attention pressing down on you.

“Well, Satoru,” your lips purse, “It’s not like I haven’t been trying.” Remembering the frustration of the past few weeks. “I figured something…unconventional might work. Finally.” 

He tsks, casually lifting the lace, dangling it on the end of his fingers before wrapping it in his hand. Eyeing you with mischief as he brings the offering to his face and drowns his nose. 

“You know…” he breathes deeply, “I’ve yet to find anyone else who smells as sweet as you.” His eyes flutter shut a moment as if savoring the scent, his grip tightening.

Then, as quickly as the moment came, his expression darkens, his tone low and sharp eyes snapping open, narrowing. “You can’t begin to imagine what it’s like to have something like that stripped away from you.”

The words hang in the air, thick and cutting. And you know exactly what he means.

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” The question spills out, gnawing at you and weighed with weeks of trying and failing to reach him since you first came back, wondering why he wouldn’t show. “Because I left?”

Gojo scoffs, smacking his teeth, and looks away, still holding the lace before dismissively letting them fall to the table. “Is it even worth asking?” His eyes flicker back to yours, dripping with disdain. “You sound so sure. Less of a coward now than you were back then,” he mutters, a bitter edge creeping in that knots your stomach.

“Tell me,” he leans, voice crawling with vice, “…was I too much for you that night?” And your throat tightens, memories of your last shift at Muriel’s rushing back full force. 

Most tourists who flock to this charming, haunted restaurant only know the glossy version of its history.

It’s themed, plays up its rumors, is gimmicky, and serves great food all in one curated pot.

But what most don’t know, is that back in the day, it actually used to be a house—a grand, extravagant mansion that was a symbol of wealth and power, drawing in the city’s elite. But all of that splendor needed someone just as luxurious to maintain it and its reputation for being the place to be if there ever was one. 

And that someone was Gojo.

A filthy rich owner with an exorbitantly large bank account and an even larger love for hosting extravagant parties. He didn’t throw these gatherings just for fun—no, they were about keeping the eyes of the elite on him and his sprawling mansion. His house wasn’t just a home—it was a glittering symbol of his status. 

And as famous as Gojo was for his parties, he was just as infamous for his way with women. A relentless womanizer, he cycled through lovers like the seasons, keeping them rotating out of his door like clockwork and quick to turn down any who tried to trap him with promises of children or falling in love. 

Gojo very much valued his freedom, up until he took his very last breath. 

With no one to pass along his estate to, he left no heirs and no family to carry on his legacy, and everything he possessed was auctioned to the public. Being sold to someone just as wealthy and lucky enough to be able to continue the home’s reputation.

But even in death, Gojo didn’t care for sharing the spotlight, or his house.

Through the years, the infamous home was passed from hand to hand, and with each new arrival, Gojo made sure they knew he was still a guest with the same appetite for attention he’d always had. 

His tricks started small, mere nuisances at first—footsteps in empty hallways, doors that wouldn’t stay shut, flickers of lights just as someone reached for the switch. But anyone who dared to claim the house as their own quickly realized that Gojo wasn’t the type to share his space.

Years passed, and the mansion’s reputation grew darker. Haunted, they said. 

No one could live there without being tormented by the mischievous, jealous ghost of its original owner, making no one want to touch it with a 10-foot pole. For quite some time, the formerly luxurious home sat on the market, a ghost of itself collecting dust and weary stares from passersby familiar and foreign. But it wasn't until someone got the brilliant idea to say fuck it and try to bank on the legends that it was finally opened to the public. Done in a way that was guaranteed to attract people from around the world—by turning it into a restaurant. And consequently making Gojo’s antics truly infamous.

At first, the new owners didn’t believe in the stories. It’s just old pipes and drafty halls, they said. But that excuse wore thin. Quickly. 

They would return to tables flipped overnight, chairs scattered around the space like a storm had blown through. Champagne glasses, polished and neatly stacked at closing, would go flying across the bar and shatter against the walls by morning. Whispers could be heard in patrons’ ears during dinner and ruin appetites. 

Workers began quitting. Customers stopped coming.

Eventually, enough was enough, and the owners, desperate and undoubtedly true believers now, decided to strike a deal with the restless spirit and finally appeal to his easily bruised ego. And they set up an exquisite V.I.P. table just for him, even going so far as to allow reservations to be made to have dinner with him and appeal to his sense of companionship once every blue moon. 

Once again, Gojo was the center of attention, and just like that, the chaos stopped.

For regular diners, at least. But then, you came along.

At first, it was subtle—small things that could easily be dismissed as accidents or coincidence. 

A fork slipping from your grasp, a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye.

You’d been warned about Gojo when you were hired but quickly dismissed it as a funny story to tell tourists (like you weren’t borderline new to the city yourself). 

You didn’t believe—not in ghosts, not in any of it. 

That is, until the antics became too much to ignore, and Gojo grew tired of playing games.

The whispers weren’t vague murmurs anymore—they were in your ear, low and teasing and calling your name. The pranks weren’t harmless either—pinches of the fat on your thighs almost made you drop dishes, gushes of wind fluttered your skirt, exposing your flesh to customers, cool breaths ghosted your neck while taking orders. And on the more vulgar end of the scale, you learned that Gojo had an infatuation with your panties, ghosting his hand under your skirt to skim the fabric and trap remnants of you on his fingers to smell and taste. And when that wasn’t enough, he would resort to stealing them, almost always running off with a pair before the end of your shift so he could relish your intoxicating scent while you were away.

He wanted your attention and was relentless, loving to see you flustered and squirming. And he wasn’t going to stop until he had it.

Then came that night. 

The night everything changed.

It was a quiet evening at Muriel's.

The last of the guests had filtered out, the last of the servers and kitchen staff had gone save for a few, and only a soft clatter of dishes in the back and the low hum of the kitchen being scrubbed down kept your company at the end of your shift.

And it had become the usual for you to be the only one left at the end of the day. Ever since your promotion to shift lead, you were the one expected to close up most days. It was a small step-up—more responsibility, slightly more money, but it almost meant longer hours, on top of still going to being a full-time student. The bags under your eyes couldn't be bigger, but someone had to make sure everything was in order before locking up. You were happy to take the extra cash and kill some debt, but nights like that one—when the restaurant was eerily still, and you were the only one walking its halls—made you question if the raise was really worth it.

You were wiping down and fixing the last of tables, mind drifting, tired, and very, very ready to go home and start your second shift on your assignments.

You slowly feel your muscles tensing, your movements growing slow and stiff. It's cold as fuck, colder than it's ever been in the restaurant making hairs stand on your arms and your brows furrow, wondering if the heat had finally kicked out in the old place when a familiar scent hit you. A thick, heady fragrance that'd been haunting you for weeks—opulent, like aged leather, tobacco, and something sweet like an overripe plum. You'd smell it before, but it was stronger than ever that night, filling the air like a thick perfume that almost made you choke, and your heart quicken. Because you were the only one in the restaurant.

A whisper right in your ear almost sent you to glory. "Leaving so soon, beautiful?"

You jolted, a rush of heat and cold spiraling through you as you whipped around, expecting to find an empty room as usual, but your rag slipped from your fingers.

Because this time, there it was.

Not just a flicker of light, not just a trick of the shadows—but standing there, casually leaning against the bar as if it'd been waiting for you. Its hair white and ghostly, catching the low light and loosely floating around its sharp, pale face. A man, unworldly and almost hypnotically angelic.

And his clothes—God, he was a vision of the past, looking like he'd stepped straight out of the 18th century. Dressed in a loose, long-sleeved cotton shirt that wasn't buttoned all the way, revealing his chest and looking impossibly soft as it bobbed around him with every subtle move, as if it had a life of its own. Untouched by the laws of physics, along with his baggy, almost billowing pants that seemed of an accessory to his form rather than a garment.

He looked like he was floating in water.

But it wasn't just the look of him that struck you—it was his presence.

You'd been receiving little snippets of the supposed guilty party for months, but now he was revealing his full form and moving around the room with an ease that was unnerving. Graceful in a way that made him seem more like a dream than a ghost, his feet barely touching the ground as he circled you—a predator accessing its prey.

He wore circular sunglasses, perched right on the bridge of his nose. The modern touch starkly contrasted the vintage quality of his existence, making him all the more haunting. They reflected the dim light and hid his eyes, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze piercing right through you.

He smiled—lazy, dangerous, and knowing. Like he could see every one of your thoughts. "Like what you see?" And your stomach twisted. Because whether you wanted to admit it or not, you couldn't deny that you had been waiting for him.

For months, Gojo had been playing with you, pushing and teasing to the brink of borderline insanity. But never in your wildest thoughts did you expect this. Not for him to ever fully reveal himself. Or for him to be so...ethereally gorgeous in a way that made your mouth dry.

You couldn't help but to stare, captivated by his strange, almost unsettling beauty. You'd been told about his promiscuity, his natural ability to captivate women and now you could see how.

He was an enigma, an impossible class of time periods—both out of place and yet perfectly at home in this old, creaky restaurant.

And despite every instinct screaming at you to get the hell out of Dodge, you were drawn to him, just as you had been since that very first whisper in your ear that made you second-guess reality.

"Well, say something." He laid his cheek on his palm. "Or am I just that handsome?"

And there it was—that egregious arrogance you'd heard so much about, dripping from every word, as if he hadn't been terrorizing you from the moment you stepped foot in the place, or just given you the jumpscare of your life. Though what threw you off most was the way he didn't sound like you expected; his voice didn’t match the way he dressed or the era period he seemed to belong to.

You swallowed hard, struggling to find your voice, but the sight of him, his sheer presence, made it almost impossible. "Cat got your tongue?"

“I’m not scared,” you finally croaked out, lifting your chin, though your voice betrayed you. And the second the words left your mouth, you regretted them, his brows raising and grin widening as he sensed the challenge in your words.

"Not scared, huh?" He stepped closer until the distance between you was almost nonexistent, calling your obvious bullshit by the way you could barely handle his taunts during your day shifts. He paused.

"Boo!"

You jumped, then immediately felt like a little bitch for falling for the oldest trick in the book. You didn't find anything funny but Gojo roared, slapping his knee. "Awww, you're so cute when you're pissed," remarking your scowling face and wiping a fake tear. But then his sensual smile returned, reaching out and tilting your chin. "So what'll get you riled up then, brave little waitress?" And he's behind you before you could turn away, running your blood cold as his nose grazed your neck, inhaling the scent of your hair

You swatted at him, more out of instinct than logic and quickly spun around—only to find nothing. Just empty space and the faint scent of him still hanging in the air like a ghost.

Fuck, where is he?

Your heart thundered in your ears, each breath coming quicker and quicker as your wide eyes scanned the room.

Panic surged through you, fighting to steady your nerves when you turned back and there he was, inches away from your face.

"Fu—!" You flinched and he snickered. "Still not scared?" And he took another step forward.

Your shaky breaths said yes but your head shook no, trying to stand your ground even as your feet moved backwards.

"No?" he grinned, closing the distance between you with every step. "Good. I don't want you to be." Still, his eyes glinted behind those ridiculous shades that hid too much and made it impossible to think straight. Your body moved on autopilot, flight instead of fight kicking in, until the small of your back collided with something solid.

Your breath hitched, aimlessly reaching behind to steady yourself when the soft, velvety fabric sent pins and needles through your body, realizing that you had bumped into the table you just spent too much time painstakingly freshening up earlier—his table.

His grin was positively wicked now, watching it dawn on your face, registering the fact that you had bumped into the very thing you unironically set up for him, the cool surface pressing into your lower back, cutlery clinking and shifting beneath your fingers. Trapped.

Gojo leaned over you. "Funny," his cool breath brushed your cheek. "I've been watching you for a while now, you know," he mused, his hand slowly creeping up your thigh, fingers barely brushing beneath your fluffy work skirt, jolts rocking through you that made you stiffen as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

"I can detect heart rates," he continued, voice a low purr. "And yours? I've been listening to it for months since I first started...playing with you." He smirked. "How it slows down when you think it's all in your head. How it spikes every time something moves that isn't supposed to. How scared you look when you can't figure out what's happening."

He practically towered over you now, leaning down to brush the shell of your ear with his lips as he added, "But it's never beat this fast before." A breath caught in your throat when his hand slid higher, his fingers curling around the divet of your hip.

"You take such good care of my table, doll. No one has done it better since it's been here." And your knees went weak feeling him knead and trace patterns over your hip with his thumb. "Sooo," he smiled against your ear, "It's only fair I put all that hard work to good use right?"

You tried to twist away, you really did, but it was a fruitless attempt to put some distance between you and the ghost. His grip was ironclad and anchoring you to the table, even in his spectral form, reminding you that though he was just a spirit, his strength was all too real. The cool burn seeping through you, yet contrasting the warmth pooling between your legs.

You swore under your breath, feeling your body betray you with each ghostly touch, shivers cascading down your spine and your jaw clenched, trying to ignore the arousal gathering in your panties, but Gojo was no amateur. He had done this dance for far too long and far too many times, and he knew the signs better than anyone.

He pulled back just enough to really get a good look at you, the smirk never leaving his face as he took in the blush creeping up your face, the rapid rise and fall of your swelling chest, the way you tugged on your lower lip in a poor attempt to maintain some semblance of control.

"I'll stop if you tell me to," he murmured so sincerely, but it felt like a trick as his other thumb now traced slow, maddening circles up your inner thigh, inching ever closer to the heat radiating from your core, and you started to protest, but the words died in your throat when he finally brushed the damp fabric of your panties.

Your mouths fell open, both of you caught entirely off guard at how surprisingly wet you were.

Gojo let out a breathless chuckle, eyes darkening beneath his glasses at the feel of your warm slick. "Just say the word, beautiful," a silken whisper that seemed to wrap around you along with the continuously languid strokes of your puckering clit.

"Hah." Panic mingled with helplessness in a battle between your mind and body.

There was no denying the effect he was having on you.

The gradual build-up of unhinged chemistry had unknowingly begun even when he was just an easily dismissive taunt—no matter how much you wanted to resist.

And the bastard knew it.

Reveled in it even, his ghostly fingers toying with the elastic edge of your panties and teasing you with the promise of something more. You just had to say yes.

No.

You squeezed your eyes shut, fabric bunching under your fingers as you tried to reason with yourself, to not drink the stupid bitch juice, but with each stroke, each tormenting touch, your resolve crumbled more and more.

"Look at me." His tone left no illusion of choice, and your eyes fluttered open, meeting the reflection of your pathetic face in his sunglasses, the distorted image mocking you before he pulled them down the bridge of his nose. "Good girl." Tucking the corner of his lip under his teeth and rewarding you with a firmer touch that made your hips involuntary buck towards him with a mewing "Ah!"

His ghostly laugh filled the room and vibrated through his hand resting between your legs. "I wonder," his brow quirked, eyes wandering over your body. "What other sounds I can draw out of you?"

You tried to respond, lips hot and ready to tell him to go to hell, but the only sound that escaped you was a strangled whimper feeling his fingers hook under your panties and pull them aside, exposing you to the cool air as you looked into his relentless gaze. He didn't even have to look to know that you were absolutely dripping, heat blooming in your face as your thighs rushed to clamp shut but his other hand firmly held you open.

"So stubborn," he smiled, feeling so lucky he's already dead by the way your eyes shoot daggers, and he gets an idea seeing your cute tight-lipped face. "Let's see how long you can keep up that fight of yours, hmm?" And he continues his dizzying but purposely feather-light strokes, determined to bring you to the precipice of shattering into pieces.

If you thought you were crazy before, you felt absolutely insane now the way you had two voices on your shoulder, an Angel and a Devil.

This is a ghost, for God's sake, the angel panicked, screaming about the sheer insanity of the situation.

That dick might hit different though, the Devil argued, voice husky and persuasive, reminding you of endlessly late nights spent studying and the dry spells that came with it. Typical of an obnoxiously busy youth battling between college and work.

It'll literally be out of this world sis, the Devil purred, and though you wanted to cringe at your conscious's bad joke, you couldn't help but acknowledge it as something that just might be true. Because despite the disbelief you were in about the reality of your situation, Gojo's very real, very rock-hard, and solid dick pressing against your knee was undeniable. And the idea of it sinking between your walls snuck into your head all on its own.

Your hand trembled, reaching out, wanting—no, needing to feel the subtly thumping temptation that promised a release you hadn't experienced in far too long. The outline wasn't enough, you needed to feel it's girth, it's length, and your fingers ghosted right through him.

"Ah ah ah," he chided, caressing your cheek. "Not until you say yes." And you felt physically ill as you took a second to even hesitate. To consider. Absolute mad. Insane. And disgustingly aching with a need so strong it made your head hurt until both of your bickering voices fell silent when you blurted, "Yes!"

And the world itself held its breath.

But it was all Gojo needed, his eyes flashing in triumph with a devious smirk. And in a movement too fast for your eyes to see, hoisted you up and turned you over, a gasp escaping your lips and he pushed you into a sinful arch until your chest planted on the table.

The heat of his gaze was blazing, taking in such a lewd display that was begging to be touch, and who was he to resist? Allowing his hands to roam your body with an urgency that left you breathless, his touch cold yet exhilarating and racing your beating heart.

Nudging your legs apart, he crouched down, cooing.

"Even prettier than I imagine." Pushing a huff out of you as his thumb slid in, slowly stretching you and coating his finger in your fluids that made his already translucent finger glisten.

His lips curled into a devilish grin at the sight of you, sprawled out of the table, your face flushed with desire and breaths short and needy. He brought his thumb to his lips, tasting you and almost dying all over again, the mix of savory sweetness and tangy heat making his already painfully hard cock twitch with anticipation.

"Delicious," he purred, "But I need more," and you couldn't even process his words before his hands were on your thighs and spreading you wide, his breath cool against your heated flesh. And then his mouth was on you, tongue tracing circles around your sugary clit, lazy but heavy when your head shot up, feeling him suck it into his mouth with an expertise that made your hand shoot out and fingers tangle in his hair. Helplessly whining and squirming, yet pulling him closer and grinding down on his face to chase his tongue.

He was in bliss with your taste, dipping in and out of your core and bringing you to the brink of shattering into a million pieces, but the dick in his pants was impatient, and you groaned feeling him pull away with a huff.

"Sweet girl," he murmured, lips glistening with your watery mess as he rose to his feet. "But I want to feel you come undone on my cock." And you jumped when you felt his thick, hard length teasing your entrance. Sending a jolt through your body at the sensation of his cool, ghostly flesh against your warm pussy before digging his hands into your hips and slamming into you with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs.

In an instant, you're both frozen, him buried to the hilt inside you and feeling your unprepared pussy squeeze and struggle to adjust to the feeling of being so unbelievably full. Feeling every ridge, every vein of his cock throbbing inside your tight, little walls.

He groaned, "Fuck," hissing and fingers digging into your flesh as he fought for control. "You feel so..." Losing his words and his hips beginning to move, thrusts slow and deliberate as he started fucking you and fucking you good after months of build-up and playing with you. Shaking the table until creaked and groaned, the cutlery clinking and dishes falling to the ground as he drove into you again and again and again, your hands scrambling to find purchase on the table and hang on.

It was too much, it was heaven on a very big, very thick, drool-inducing stick, it was so delicious that the intense ache bordered pain and made you want to get away yet run towards it at the same time.

"I don't know who you've been holding out on me for," he gruffed, eyeing screwing shut at your tight, fluttering pussy, "But tonight, you belong to me." And he punctuated his point with deep, harsh, thrusts.

"Go-Go-GoJO." You stammered over his name, and he wrapped a hand under your neck, pulling you back against him.

"Call me, Satoru, doll," and he kissed your cheek, still bullying your pussy until your walls caved and hungrily sucked him in.

"Sa-Satoru," you managed, almost breathless, "I'm going to..hah, I'm about to..."

You can't even get them out, damn near blacking out when you came and came hard, a powerful, unexpectantly early orgasm ripping through your convulsing body—wave after wave after of white-hot pleasure washing over you until your body went limp against him, your legs crumbling as he let you collapse against the table.

But he wasn't finished yet. Still deeply pushing through your sore and fluttering walls, his mind a heady mix of egotistical pride and unyielding desire as he felt you shudder and unravel beneath him. Marveling at the sight of you utterly defeated yet still clinging to the table, the way your sweet voice called out his name in ecstasy, and every shaky breath and tremble as he pushed you into overstimulation until his own breath grew uneven.

His release was coming and coming fast, the telltale sign tightening in his core as he watched your ass ricochet off his snapping hips, teetering on the edge of release.

His fingers dug into your nearly limp body, holding you in place, each thrust becoming more desperate and erratic because even though his dick was a punisher and you were practically lifeless, your pussy was still whooping his ass. Coaxing him to dig deeper and deeper and look Nirvana right in the face until with a hoarse groan, he finally shattered and moaned your name, knocking your hips into the table and stilling right against your cervix until he spilled into you with a fierce, unrestrained release that left him trembling and breathless and you heady and wondering if you could get pregnant by a ghost.

Huffing, he folded over you, feeling like life had been pulled out of him once again, needing to be as close to you as possible as he grasped the fat of your ass between his fingers. "Fuck, love," he said, damn-near delirious. "I would've made you a wife in my first time." But you didn't even have enough consciousness to process the never-said-before words that many before you would've given their very soul to hear.

As the world around you faded to black, the only thing you were aware of was the feeling of Gojo's body pressed against yours, murmuring your name in your ear like a promise, and to this day you still don't know what he meant by putting your hard work to good use because after allowing him to have his way, his table was left in absolute shambles.

Those few minutes of pure, carnal delirium had burned into you, leaving you shook, figuratively and literally for weeks, even after the semester ended and you returned home for the summer.

And what most would think would be the best night in your entire existence and begging for more, actually left you rattled to your core and questioning your sanity. Seeing him, feeling him, almost every night after in your dreams.

Convinced that the pressure of academics, a new city, and your overworked imagination had become too much, you made a choice—transferring schools and never returning to New Orleans. Leaving behind your job and all the friends you made. Telling yourself that the encounter with Gojo had to be nothing more than a full mental breakdown. And yet...

The feeling of him lingered with you for years. So real, so vivid like he was somehow watching, somehow waiting for you to—

"Earth to beautiful." His voice sliced through your trip down memory lane and dragged you back to the present. You blink, realizing with a start that he was no longer sitting across from you.

Following his voice, your gaze darted to the left, and there he was again, lounging on one of the plush chairs in the corner of the restaurant.

You shift in your seat, hesitating as the memories collide with the present. "No," you start, remembering his question. "It wasn't that..."

Gojo's playful smile dims just a little but enough to notice. "Then enlighten me, doll, because last I remember, you just up and left without so much as a goodbye."

You swallow, the knot of guilt building in your stomach. "It wasn't because of you—"

His laugh cut through your words, sharp and bitter, echoing off the walls when he vanishes only to reappear behind you. "Sure didn't feel that way to me, sweetheart."

You whip around to face him, but he's already gone, reappearing across the room, shoulder leaning against the wall. "You thought I wouldn't notice?" His arms cross. "Didn't even come back for a single shift, just left me hanging like I had done something wrong...no one's ever done that before." And the way he's trying to suppress the sadness in his voice lets you know that he's obviously still salty about it.

For once, the entertainer had his own entertainment—genuine, proper, and unlike anything he ever experienced in the life he knew before and even after death. And it had been stripped away from him just like that.

"I didn't—" And he's gone again, this time materializing at the bar, resting his elbows on it like this whole conversation is nothing but a joke because truthfully, "I've missed playing with you," he confesses.

Heat rises in your cheeks, a mixture of flustered embarrassment and lingering guilt, and you don't know how to feel anymore. "I didn't leave because of you," you insist, but even to you, it sounds weak.

"Then what was it?" Gojo taunts, appearing at a table closer to you, leaning forward in that all-too-familiar lazy, arrogant pose. "Got spooked? Couldn't handle me?" His defensiveness makes it clear he' isn't really listening. "Or maybe..." his voice drops low, "You liked it too much." And your pulse spikes instantly, his teasing combined with what may be a sliver of truth, making your skin prickle.

He watches you with a wolfish grin, knowing exactly what he's doing, how he's affecting you. And when the obvious look of frustration appears on your face before you start to chew him out, he's gone. And you've officially had it.

"Dammit, Gojo!" you snap, pushing up from his table. "Would you stop already?" Your eyes dart around for the source of your anger, trying to follow his shifting presence as he flickers in and out of view. "I came back to talk, not to play your stupid ass games again!" you shout, hoping that'll trigger him, but the room falls silent, the only the sound your own soft breath, and for a moment, you think maybe he's finally let his emotions get the best of him and he's disappeared forever.

"Tell me..." and in a sudden flicker, he's in front of you, his hand lifting to softly brush your cheek, the touch cold and electric. "After all these years..." His fingers draw a slow line from your neck to your tummy. "Can you still feel me...down there?"

You've never been more flabbergasted.

You let out a short exhale, instinctively taking a step back, but Gojo is already pressing forward, making you stumble back until the cool wood of the bag digs into your lower back like deja vu. His hand is already on your waist, fingers possessively curling around you, and with a casual, effortless push, he hoists you onto the bar, parting your legs with ease and slotting himself between them as if he's always belonged there. Stirring something deep inside you.

You should be scrambling to get down, but you hate how easily your body reacts to him instead, how the pull between you feels just as strong as it did back then, as if the years apart meant nothing. But Gojo isn't afraid to throw away his ego to show you he misses you even after all this time. And damn it, you feel absolutely insane realizing that part of you misses him too, even if it was just a few months of build-up and one explosive night.

But you're older now. You're not the same naive girl he could easily swoon with a smirk and a whisper of words.

No, you were here for a reason and didn't hesitate to swallow down your confusing desire to stick to the mission. Even if it meant breaking his heart.

“Stop,” you say more to yourself than him, but the firmness in your voice surprises both of you. Pulling away from his lingering hands, you shake your head. “I’m not here for that.”

His hands freeze in place, and he leans back just enough to meet your eyes. “No?” He mocks surprise. “Then what are you here for, sweetheart? Because I’m having a hard time believing this isn’t it.”

You lift your chin, forcing out the words before you lose your nerve. “I need your help, Gojo.”

“Satoru,” he corrects you, but his smile slightly falters when he sees you’re serious.

“Help?” He tilts his head. “And here I thought you just missed me.” His smile widens, but there’s something dangerous in it now. Something that makes you remember just how unpredictable Gojo can be. And just you think he’s got the wrong idea and is going in for a kiss, he leans back and gives you space. His arms cross over his chest, gaze flickering over your face before he sighs. “What could I possibly help you with?” And his willingness to listen is what surprises you the most, but you still can’t believe what you’re about to say, drawing a steady breath to help get the words out.

“I need to find them.”

His brow quirks. “Them?”

“...the vampires.” And the second the word leaves your mouth, his grin falters.

For the first time since he appeared, the amusement completely drops from his face and he’s suddenly careful with his words. “I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff.”

“I—” You hesitate, wanting to say that you don’t know what you believe in anymore. Never in your entire life expecting to have a full-fledged conversation with a ghost, let alone be fucked into oblivion by one, but instead, you just say what’s true. “Things have changed.”

“I see,” his eyes narrow as if weighing your words before he shrugs and walks off a bit. “Quite the 180,” he muses, “But who knows, maybe they’re real, maybe they’re not. Maybe I know,” and he turns back and leans in. “Maybe I don’t,” he whispers.

His words taunt you, but it’s the look in his eyes that holds you captive, as if he’s trying to pull the truth right out of your skull. “Why? Why are you so eager to find them?” And you’re taken aback by his suddenly jealous tone. 

“It’s my friend…” And you feel pathetic for wanting to cry. “She’s missing.”

Gojo’s face slightly softens, but he doesn’t speak. You just know that he’s listening, truly listening now.

“She started acting all…weird before she disappeared,” you continue, throat tightening as the memories of you meeting in college races through your mind. You stayed friends after you left, but she never did. “She mentioned vampires once, but I just thought she was messing around. NOLA, y’know?” You shrug. “I blew it off,” you confess, “But now…she’s gone and I—now I don’t know what else to think.” And all of the despair you’ve been suppressing finds its way to your chest.  

But all Gojo cared about most was getting an answer that satisfied him, and suddenly, he’s behind the bar, his fingers ghosting under your chin and tilting your head back until you’re forced to look at him. 

“So this is about your friend then? Not the vampires?”

Your face twists. “Yeah, of course, what else?”

He mutters something under his breath, looking off to the side. Then his eyes narrow, glinting with something unreadable as they snap back to yours. “And why do you think I’m just going to hand you that kind of information? That I would even have it?”

And the temperature around you drops so sharply you can see your breath hanging in the air. 

The realization of the power Gojo holds, even if it is just secrets, is more than you can comprehend, and you’re asking him to hand it over willingly. But you swallow hard, licking your chilling lips. “Because I know you can help me, Satoru,” you say with deliberate emphasis. “I remember what you said once…about knowing things.”

The silence that follows stretches too long for comfort, weighty as he just watches you with an unreadable expression. For a moment, panic flutters in your stomach.

Have you pushed him too far? Was this plan to reconnect with him for answers nothing more than a foolish misjudgment? What if Gojo chooses revenge and leaves you with nothing—all of this…for nothing?

But then, ever so slowly, that unmistakable smirk returns as he leans close enough to almost brush your cool lips. “Vampires, huh?” His mouth curls into a full, dangerous smile now. “You must be desperate, coming to me for that.”

Your gaze doesn’t waver, nodding. “I am.” And Gojo chuckles, the sound both chilling and thrilling as he traces your jawline. “Then I suppose we’d better make this…interesting.” But you aren’t even surprised because if there was one thing you didn’t need to be told, it’s that Gojo isn’t going to make anything easy. He never has. But at least he’s willing to strike up a deal.

Gojo only agrees to tell you what you need to know on one condition: “I want to taste you,” he says simply, like it’s nothing. “That’s it.” And you can’t even fully process the words as his arm slips around your waist, gently pulling your back against his front, his hand snaking down to find home between your legs. “I didn’t get to properly the first time,” he muses, his breath cool against your neck. Sharing the sentiment as if he knows you may never come back. 

Your pulse quickens, the gravity of what he’s asking settling in. Memories of that night—the sheer intensity of it—clouding your judgment and flooding your mind like the heat building between your legs. The request hangs between you like a blade. Giving you a choice, but you know there’s no real option here. If you refuse, he might not give you what you need. But if you agree…

“That’s it?” you whisper. He nods. And after a moment’s ponder as his fingers tease against your skin and spur your decision, history repeats itself when you once again say yes.

In an instant, he’s on his knees in front of you, eliciting a gasp from you when he swiftly pulls you to the edge of the bar. He blissfully hums, his hands gliding up and down your thighs like silk before parting them like the Red Sea. The blue of his eyes flares as he ogles you, the sight of unclothed and oh so pretty, glistening cunt confirming what he already knew, that the lace panties you used to summon him had come freshly off your body. 

His eyes darken with desire, never leaving yours as he leans in. "This. This is all I want," he murmurs, his lips brushing the inside of your thigh with a featherlight touch.

“Mmph.” Your fingers curl into fists as you fight the urge to grab his hair and guide him to where you’ve been throbbing the most. Because despite your words earlier, the way your body responds to his touch, every tremble, every subtle sigh, doesn't lie. 

You wanted this as badly as he did. 

But Gojo is in control; his movements deliberate, slow, and savoring every inch of your exposed skin.

And he’s determined to show you exactly what you’ve been missing. 

His cool breath fans against your skin, his lips soft, teasing, and leaving a trail of icy fire as they move closer to your center. Closer to the source of your intoxicating scent that hooked him like an addict from the moment you first entered the restaurant six years ago. 

Your fingers clench the bar's edge, the cool wood a poor substitute for the touch you crave.

God, you wish he’d stop toying with you. Even when you give in and give him exactly what he wants, he still finds a way to make everything a game.

And just when you’re ready to huff and puff, the first flick of his tongue against your sensitive flesh almost makes you fall apart and draw a sharp breath. Your back arches as if jolted by electricity, unable to help the moan that follows and echoes in the deserted restaurant.

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he delves deeper, circling his tongue around your puffy clit and puckering hole. And he’s true to his word, taking his time to explore and savor you with long, languid strokes that have you gripping the bar until your knuckles turn white. 

Like a man possessed, his hands claim your thighs, devouring you with a maddening intensity and leaving you breathless. A sinful blend of pleasure and arousal as he navigates your most sensitive spots as if he’s done so a hundred times. Cooing into your folds, slurping your juices like a refreshment, making you completely surrender, his name slipping from your lips in a desperate, needy whisper. 

He smiles against your bud he sucks like a popsicle, your brows furrowing and body arching as he expertly brings you to the brink of desperate release. “Patience, sweetheart.” Gojo looks up at you, eyes gleaming with mischief as his tongue swipes at the taste of you on his lips. “Good things come to those who wait.”

But waiting is the last thing on your mind as you stare at him, your body aching for more before his lips hover just above your throbbing core. You’re holding your breath without realizing it, every nerve in your body attuned to his every move. Then he’s on you again, his fingers digging into your flesh, the slight sting only heightening the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Fuck baby,” he laps, a digit slipping into your tight walls, “I’ve missed this.” Adding a second that hooks right onto your G-spot and shoots stars into your eyes. Making it worse by slurping your clit into his mouth in a nasty combination while pushing in and out.

The pressure inside you mounts and your eyes roll uncontrollably as you teeter on the edge, breaths come in sharp, ragged gasps and your body wound up so tightly it feels like you might shatter as you chase the sensation, hips bucking into Gojo’s face.

His hands clamp down on your thighs. “Stay still,” he commands, his low growl vibrating through you. But his words only fan the flames of your desperation, whimpers escaping you before he’s back at it, his tongue dancing over your clit with fiery precision. 

You’re about to beg, to plead for release, hands scrambling to grasp him when you know you can’t when he slightly pulls back. 

“Now,” he says, his gaze locked onto yours. “Now you can touch me.” And for a moment, you’re not sure you’ve heard him correctly. 

But then you feel it—the change like a switch has been flipped. A newfound solidity where there has been none before that your body instinctively responds to. 

You reach out, tentative at first, and find yourself shocked when your fingers graze the top of his head. His hair is unexpectedly soft; threading your fingers through the silky strands and gripping them lightly as your legs wrap around his shoulders to pull him closer to chase ecstasy. 

Years have gone by, lovers have come and go, but nobody, nobody has been able to slurp, suck, or devour you anywhere near as close as Gojo. He eats you with a passion, with a determination to make you fall apart and come undone like the pleasure is more his than yours. If you could say there was ever a true eater who ever walked this earth, the first person you think of is him. And if you were around in the 1800s, you probably would have tried to trap him and ride his face into the sunset too. 

It’s that low, guttural hum, his nose nuzzling deep against your folds like a madman and fingers harshly curling against that perfect, gummy spot in you that finally sends you toppling right over, and with a final, drawn-out moan, you shatter beneath his touch and the world explodes into a kaleidoscope of color and light. 

Your legs tighten around him, holding him in place as you ride out the storm of pleasure, grasping his platinum locks with both hands and drenching his face with your sweet release as you cum harder than you have in 6 years.  

Your mouth falls open in shock, embarrassment flushing your body as you expect Gojo to release you in disgust, but his only response is a low hum of approval, and his hands slide up your body to pin your writhing hips down and drink as he pleases. Not missing a single drop. 

Your body pulses with aftershocks on his tongue, each wave weaker than the last but his tongue doesn’t stop. And when your eyes cross from the overstimulation, you beg and blubber until you can’t anymore and finally collapse on the bar, panting and covered in a sheen of sweat as you come down from the high.

When he’s satisfied and full, Gojo slowly pulls away, a smug slip playing on his lips as he licks them. Gazing up at you, his eyes—bluer than ever—roam over your flushed form. “Delicious as ever,” and his praise is almost as sweet as the sight of you. “Now,” he says, rising to his feet, “About those vampires…”

You take a second. “Right…,” and huff, “the vampires.” You’re so spent you almost forgot what you came here for, your core feeling tight and sore as you attempt to sit up. Little groans slipping out before Gojo catches you off-guard, smashing his lips against yours in the first kiss you two have ever had. Letting you taste yourself on his cool tongue and making your head swim. You could lose yourself it in, seeming to go on forever, as his possessive hands roam all over your body.

You moan into his mouth. “Go-Satoru.” Trying to fight the heady feeling, but you should’ve known better. An indulgent man like Gojo would never stop at just one taste.  

He can feel you slowly cracking, and when he finally breaks the kiss, your lips are left swollen and tingling before he steals your breath again when he begins rutting against you. 

“I want to fuck you down on my cock so bad.” His face is buried in the crook of your neck, breaths coming in short, ragged pants. Sick off of the scent scent of your hair. “Would that be so bad?” 

“Satoru,” you breathe out, a plea, a warning? You’re not sure which. “We had a deal, Satoru,” you remind him, struggling to hold onto any semblance of control, the sensation of his length rubbing against your sensitive and still-soaking core almost too much as you remember how full you were that night.

For a moment, it feels like he won't stop—and maybe you don’t want him to. But your resolve, silent yet firm, cuts through Gojo’s haze of desire, even if your body isn’t strong enough to resist and push him away yourself. And with a soft, almost reluctant sigh, Gojo huffs, and swears to himself being the one to pull away.

You swipe your bottom lip, for a second missing his on yours, and it takes a moment for you to clear your head, your hands unsteady as they fumble to straighten your clothes and fix yourself up as you slide off the bar. It's only after several deep breaths that your pulse begins to steady, and you can meet his eyes and that same infuriating smirk as he crosses his arms.

“Tsh, you’re no fun,” he teases, but there’s a note of respect in his voice. 

Ignoring his comment, you square your shoulders. “I need to know how to find them, Gojo.”

His hand flies to his chest. “Ouch.” You roll your eyes. “Alright, alright,” he relents, running a hand through his hair. “A deal’s a deal.” He casually leans back against the bar, his tone turning back to business. “You want to find the vampires? The best way is to start with the hunters.”

You frown in confusion. “Hunters? …Vampire hunters?”

He nods, looking at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You find the hunters, you find the vampires.” His voice is calm, but the words hit you like a train.

Oh, this is real. 

Very, very real. 

And your blood runs cold at the weight of your situation, of what you’re getting into.

Your friend wasn’t just caught up in some strange myth or superstition.

You’re not just playing detective anymore.

It was one thing to try to be brave and find out what happened, but it was another to step into the world of those who hunted them, those who lived every moment of their existence on the edge of life and death—purposely seeking out something so dangerous that they have to be exterminated.

“What? You scared now?” His head tilts, noticing your hesitation. “It’s simple,” he laughs, “You get in with them, you’re as good as gold.” And though his words offer the solution you’ve been searching for, they also bring a chilling new reality. And you have to decide if you’ll really ready cross a line you can never uncross.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “And how do I find them?”

Gojo grins. “You don’t find them, sweetheart.” He pushes off the bar. “They find you.” He takes a few slow steps towards you. “Especially someone like you. They’ll practically smell the desperation.”

Your eyes narrow at his comment. Desperation? You’ve been called worse.

Nevertheless, your heart hammers in your chest, each beat trying to signal your impending doom. 

“So, what? I just wait around for them to find me?” Frustration creeps into your tone.

Gojo waves his hand. “No, no, no,” he laughs. “You need to be smarter than that.” And he becomes more serious. “Make yourself known in the right circles. Go to the places they frequent. Show them you’re not someone they can just ignore. Play the part.” And you’re quick to pull out your phone and jot down the few places he rattles off.

As you type, a heaviness creeps in—a strange air shifting between you and Gojo. He notices how tired you look, the way your shoulders slightly sag, how your sigh carries the weight of exhaustion. This whole ordeal has felt like one long rollercoaster, but this is just the beginning of your even more difficult journey. 

But something feels off, and when you glance up from your phone, you catch Gojo’s eye.

There’s no more teasing. No more smirking. He’s watching you with something else, something that feels heavy yet unreadable. And it clicks weird when a vibe passes through the both of you, simultaneously realizing that the time to part ways has come. 

And you’re just as lost now as you were then about how to say goodbye. 

It almost feels bittersweet watching him return to the table where this all started. 

“Don’t.” He plops down, sensing what you’re about to say. “I’ve never been good at those.” And though it flashes through your mind that he’s been bitter for six years because you never did the first time, you respect his wish and don’t say it this time either, only pursing your lips and offering a slight nod.

When you turn to leave, Gojo calls after you. 

“Be careful.” His voice is softer now, almost concerned, and you look back to glance at him, caught off-guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “But I don’t have to tell you that,” he smiles, a sparkle flashing on his glasses as he pushes them up.

You softly laugh, glancing down at your hands to fiddle with your fingers, trying to swallow the thanks welling up in your throat. The last thing you want is to make this moment any more awkward than it already is—as if this entire night hasn’t been batshit crazy. 

Gojo may have made your life a living hell for one of the most pivotal times of your youth, but he’s also one of the most unforgettable things that’s ever happened to you. And it’s in this moment that you finally decide that maybe…that wasn’t so bad. 

…Fuck it. You decide to say something anyway. 

But when you turn back to look at him, he’s gone. His scent, his aura—the restaurant still and lifeless. Chilling…because it’s never felt so…warm.

“...Thank you,” you whisper to the empty space he left behind, the words feeling almost weightless as you slowly exit the restaurant for what may actually be the last time, and the doors close behind you with a quiet click.

Stepping outside into the warm New Orleans air feels so different now like you’ve left something behind in that old restaurant. 

Maybe it’s Satoru.

Maybe it’s a part of yourself that knows things will never quite be the same after this.

It feels like you’ve just spent eternity trapped behind those vintage green doors, and now the world outside looks both familiar and frightening, but the night air hits you like a fresh start.

You're really going to do this. You're going to find the hunters, and through them, the vampires. And then... well, you’ll deal with that when the time comes.

After all, you've already faced a devil, and you're still standing. 

What's a few vampires compared to that?

angel's note: bwahahaha, why do i even bother trying to condense things? ghost gojo was not supposed to have his own part, let alone (blank)K WORDS, he enjoyed reader waaaaay more than intended but obviously, i am not in control of my own stories. but yoooo, first and foremost, the BIGGEST of fucking s/o to @blkkizzat for helping me bring this story to fruition. i told her that i wanted to do a sugucho vampire fic and she said "bitch, where's ghost gojo??" so you have her to thank for this absolutely delectable first part

no worries tho, it's nothing but vampires and blood-sucking 🩸 from here on out, so drop ya name below if you want to be added to the tag list|sidenote: this post lining up with the full moon was not on purpose 😶 graphic credits: fangs banner (anitalenia)|glitter blood divider (violentbudd)|halloween MDNI divider (meeeee :3)|animated red divider (cafekitsune)

art credits: Sugu: 1 (hidouuc) 2 (blobfishswims) 3 (rice5x)|Cho: 1 (yappdoll) 2 (n/a) 3 (koshinomli) 4 (zeilorene)| Toru: 1 (_3aem) 2 (jjk_myaa) 3 (nala_bert) 4 (yurriima)

[winderlylandchime]

Hello, so after we finished 2x18, it started to pour like crazy and we ended up losing power in our neighborhood for well over a day. Which means this man ended the day at like 5 pm with Justin cheating and he was miserable. I forgot how horrible it is to experience this storyline for the first time. Anyway i am now here with 2x19(1/2) and the meltdown of it all: ‘awww Ted calls him Bri just like me! Look how cute he is, god damn it Justin!’ The groan he just let out at the sight of Ethan and Justin. He immediately paused it and went to get himself candy and he is so angry that he can’t drink alcohol. ‘I’m actually about to puke out the burger I just ate. This is actually making me nauseous and also making me pissed at Justin’ *mocks Ethan in a childish voice* his instrument? He’s his instrument? Id say he can shove it up his ass but he already did. CHEATER! I am begging you to fast forward it (oh how I wish i could) this is hideous! HIDEOUS! Justin, do you not feel gross with yourself?’ *mocks Ethan again* big plans tonight? YEAH BRIAN! BIGGER! BETTER! Bitch!’ He now paused the tv cause he got frustrated, it paused on Ethan and he yelled out FUCK NO and started the ep again until he could pause it on something that wasn’t Ethan. ‘That’s nice? Being a starving artist is nice? If someone said that to me I’d throw a punch! I DESERVE TO EAT EVERY NIGHT! Oh look at him, he it just itching to ask about Brian..HA HA YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A SIDE DICK and not even a good one at that! *mocks him again* oh if he stayed sometime you could wake up together? I hate both of you. I hope every coffee you drink burns your tongue! You know, Brian can be A LOT but even he doesn’t deserve to be cheated on’ He got so relieved when Ethan went off screen only for Carl to pop up. He is already done with this ep. ‘……oh but they aren’t homophobic?..Debbie. fuck you. THEYRE GONNA BOWL TOGETHER? TIME FOR BRIAN TO SHINE!!!’ ‘This sounds really weird but I like it when Brian is working. Oh look what the cat dragged in. A CHEATER! Oh you were studying? Let me guess, classical music? Oh, you’re gonna shower are you? I wonder why?! oh Brian is a little suspicious. I need him to get caught. I hate this because I love Blondie so much but this? This isn’t it. So right now, he is on my shit list! THEY GOT FUCKING BOWIE ON THE SOUNDTRACK! I mean i know he was on in s1 BUT FUCK SHIT FUCK! BOWIE!!!!! I love Bowie!…*pauses tv* do you have any clue what this song is about? LOOK IT UP! *starts ep again* ….is he gonna tell him? What WAS JUSTIN GONNA SAY?! Oh you coward!’ ‘Okay, my dear lesbians. I am an *makes a weak fist* ally but I’m gonna need yall to fuck off because i have other stuff to worry about’ ‘oh look it’s Mikey and Cheat- WHY IS THERE VIOLIN MUSIC?! HE WAS NOWHERE TO BE SEEN FOR TWO SEASONS AND NOW HE’S ON EVERY FUCKING CORNER?!?! MAKE IT MAKE SENSE MY MAN. JUSTIN! NO! ENOUGH..oh fuck you’ He is so pissed off at Ethan right now that he is fake criticizing his violin playing as if he knows what he’s talking about ‘CHEATER! Yes. RAGE! Which is about his BOYFRIEND! DUDE HE HAS A BOYFRIEND BACK THE FUCK OFF! Why would you want to go watch a oui oui movie? Justin, you literally don’t like half of what this dude is talking about or offering so why are you acting so fucking smitten? MIKEY, GET HIS ASS! Oh boohoo the french movie is a parallel to Justin and Brian and this fucker, isn’t it? WHY ARE THEY KISSING! NO KISSING RULE FOR FUCKS SAKE JUSTIN YOU FUCKING SHITHEAD! No offense, my man..actually scratch that, full offense but you two suck at kissing each other. WHERE IS MICHAEL THE ONE TIME I WANT HIM- THERE HE IS MICHAEL!! GO TO BRIAN TELL BRIAN! PLEASE DO IT PLEASEEEEEE!’ He is so stressed out, he had to take his sweater off because he was getting so heated. I swear this is the only thing that makes it worth watching Ethan.. ‘TED AND BRI! I like these two, i feel so bad for Brian. Poor guy. Ted, my man, when you do porn, you become desensitized to it. It’s true I watched a video about it. Oh look at that, two besties talking about sex fantasies’

YOU LOST POWER AFTER 218??? Oh my god. I'm surprised your brother survived. I would have diedddddd.

Groaning at the sight of Ethan. YEP

Loving Bowie on the soundtrack. YEP

MAKE IT MAKE SENSE. YEP

Screaming at Justin. YEP

Your brother is breaking down but for all the right reasons.

[our-neighbours-cat-is-a-menace]

hi !! I saw your pinned post and I immediately rushed here to ask a request 🧍‍♀️

OKAY SO PICTURE THIS

the OM! brothers ( I don't know how many characters you can right so just choose your faves ) and diavolo just having a huge crush on mc

Time for some fluff ey, ok here we go

Obey me boys having a huge crush on MC

Since our dear requestor made me the one to choose who to write with, i choose these bois

Pairings :Leviathan x reader /Mammon x reader /Diavolo x reader

Leviathan

A stuttering mess and

A fresh out of the farm, red tomato

He takes every opportunity to spend time with you

"MC,there's this new game i brought"

"MC, come watch this anime with me"

"MC, let's go buy the merch together"

Satan pointed out his behaviour and called him a lovestruck fool and all he could do was blush since the wrathful demon wasn't really wrong

He feels irritated when mammon always calls you his human and that his your first

He's literally the avatar of envy so of course he can't help but growl and glare at the tsundere for his claims about you

When you turn down his invitations to play or watch anime, he makes that stupidly adorable face looking like a sad puppy

And you're weak to that shit

So of course you put aside any of your plans and spend time with him

Him confessing was messier than my life

He'll stutter the words that are already jumbled, hands fidgeting, eyes darting everywhere besides you and a face that looks like a tomato

When he shouted out the words "i like you"

He went poof, and his demon form came out

You can't help but be stunned and eventually laugh

Now you laughing didn't seem like a good sign to him

Was my confession that awful and did you think he was just joking, he thought

Already feeling like he wants to cry, you suddenly engulfed him in a hug, saying you like him too

Imagine the happiness he felt in that moment as he hugged you so tightly

Mammon

You actually thought he was terminally ill

"let's go out and eat, my treat"

You looked at him with wide eyes

Him? Treating you?

Never in a million years would you think that mammon would actually offer to treat you

"Are you sick or something? Are you dying?" you asked concerned cupping his facd

"the heck, who's dying" he said gently swatting your hand away

Your touch always makes his face heat up so don't touch him damnit

Since you're teasing him, he'll actually feel the need to take back his words cause all he wants now is to bury himself 6ft under

"geez, if you don't want to, you can just f-"

"i never said, i wouldn't tho" you said smiling at him

"w-well of course y-you w-would agree, heh i-im the g-great mammon a-after all" he stammered, hands scratching the back of his neck

You actually said yes and he's fighting the urge to smile

You set the date for your dinner 2 days from now, so in those two days his utterly restless

His a mess and the eldest didn't fail to notice it

When lucifer knew why mammon was so out of it, he offered his little brother a pep talk on how to won you over

Mammon hesitated in accepting lucifer's help but if it ensures his confession to get a good answer he'll take the devil's hand

Amidst to mammon's dilemma, you already had the idea that he was planning to confess and you were more than ready to say yes

But for now, let's just enjoy mammon taking lessons from lucifer on "how to win the girl you like"

Diavolo

Pleaseeeeee

He'd call you for whatever dumb reason he can come up with just so you'd visit him in the castle

Barbatos found the prince hopeless since his reason's for inviting you are just dumb

"MC, could you come to the castle, I bought a fish"

"MC, could you come here and help me find the pen i lost"

Seriously?

You of course would just have a bunch of question marks floating above your head wondering why would he call you for such menial things

What does he want you to do, eat the fish?, and finding a lost pen? Doesn't he have a lot of those and barbs is there to help him find it

Eventhough you're questioning everything, you still go

You secretly told barbs how he was acting weird with his imvite reasons

And Barbatos gladly filled you in on the reason why

Oh

So he likes me, wait He likes me?

You just stared at barbs stunned and the pretty demon just smiled

Already known of the demon's feelings, the next time he calls for you, you won't be able to look him in the eyes

This of course made him think that your avoiding him and that your uncomfortable with his company

So he sadly stopped calling for you, and it's been three days since you last saw each other

His experiencing withdrawal symptoms

Constant sighing, no motivation to do anything, blanky staring at his phone and just looking all pitiful

Barbatos had to take matters into his own hands

He raided the house of lamentation and kidnapped you taking you to the castle

Diavolo was quick to hug you the moment he saw you and he was like a big dog being deprived with treats for days

You both talk it out how you were not avoiding him and was just feeling conscious from what barbatos said

He was glad that was the reason but he's bummed out how barbatos was the one to say about his feelings for you

"I'll do things the right way this time, and court you properly"

"Ok, no more fish and pens" you teased and smiled at him already falling in love

A/N: Thank you for this awesome request @swan-chan, i hope you like reading this

also i wrote for Solomon but it got deleted so that's why there's only three of them now, sorry for that, Solomon's part was quite long so it made me lazy to do it again.

Masterlist🌻

[jihopesjoint]

this jimin showing up after the set me free pt. 2 release has me absolutely spiraling out of control. but tbh i’m also down bad for this mc; i LOVE how you write MCs as people able to keep up with whichever member they’re paired with. they’re not shying away, they’re meeting the challenge, the power is evenly distributed, and i fucking love it.

i am once again floored by how you manage to get so much across in such few words. i can’t express enough how HARD that is to do. and you always make sure i laugh out loud when i read something of yours.

“your first instinct was to crack a window”

i fucking CACKLED dude like the visual that i got pleaseeeeee 💀

ANYWAY, AS ALWAYS, talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, not afraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it

One where y/n is the airhostess on Mr Park's pvt jet : smut

put your tray tables up, fam, we’re in for a wild ride.

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI — not necessarily public sex but there’s obvi a pilot on board not far away so??; one night (flight?) stand; protected sex; jimin’s hand over reader’s mouth to keep her 🤫 quiet 🤫.

When you took this position, there was a thick training manual dropped in your hands that nearly knocked you off balance. That, combined with the rigorous preparatory courses and certification exam, left you ready to respond to just about anything: emergency landings, injuries requiring first aid, heavy turbulence, hijackings…

Unfortunately, no part of your onboarding prepared you for Park motherfuckin’ Jimin.

Your first conversation had been a brief introduction — to yourself, to the pilot, to the procedures you may need to follow if a wayward goose finds its way into the turbines and sends you hurtling towards death’s lap. Throughout what was normally a thoroughly rehearsed and meticulously delivered speech, Jimin’s half-lidded eyes told you he didn’t give much of a shit about a properly-affixed oxygen mask. The tongue that darted out to wet his lips had made it crystal clear: what Jimin wanted on his face was more likely to suffocate rather than respirate.

And you knew damn well that, despite your risk-avoidant training, this was the one instance in which you’d willingly crash and burn.

You did try your best to stay out of temptation’s way, for whatever that fact was worth. The jet was smaller and significantly less occupied than most flights you worked, so your options were limited from the start. Jimin’s presence loomed large, too, leaving you feeling exposed. More afraid of hovering than being sucked out the emergency door, you’d resolved to tuck yourself away in the back most area for as long as you could stand it.

Of course, you’d make rounds to determine whether there was any purpose for you to serve, but you didn’t expect to be of much use — not burning up the way you did when his eyes lingered on you, not with your weak knees trembling like that.

During your first of these rounds, you’d had your second conversation; you’d offered him a drink. The surplus of alcohol on board meant that you were outnumbered three-to-one by bottles, all of which could buy you out of your apartment lease. Jimin had accepted your offer.

In doing so, he’d nodded, shot you a confused expression that landed halfway between a smirk and genuine surprise, and said, “It’d be rude of me to drink alone, don’t you think?”

If girls like you deserve Dom Pérignon, you had to wonder what else made the list. Mercifully, you didn’t have to ruminate for long.

Your third conversation didn’t come where you expected — oddly prophetic, in hindsight. Instead of waiting for you to make your anticipated rounds through the main cabin area, Jimin sought you where you hid. Burning hot under your company-issued dress, your first instinct was to crack a window. Thankfully, you quickly realized that this course of action was ill-advised.

The exit sign floated overhead while he had you effectively caged off by the door. The angel on your shoulder, it begged you to listen, be professional, keep your damn hands to yourself. But the devil was in front of you in a leather jacket and, shit, the weather in Hell must be lovely this time of year.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Jimin began, looking entirely unapologetic, “I had a question for you.” He noted the way your eyebrows raised in acknowledgment, then he continued, “I heard that pilots sleep through long flights — autopilot, you know? — and wondered if that was true.”

Oh, you cheeky bastard.

You bit your lip thoughtfully, then sighed, “Couldn’t say. Classified information, you know? Trade secret.”

When you leaned in to whisper the next bit, you didn’t have far to go — Jimin was close enough for you to see your own reflection in his eyes.

“I can tell you that the last layover wasn’t very restful.”

Jimin tilted his head to the side, eyes flicking down to your lips then back again. “Is that so?” He hummed. Your heart nearly rocketed out of your chest when he tucked a flyaway strand of hair back behind your ear.

“So,” your gaze was handcuffed to his as your hand drifted to his belt buckle, “Be a doll and keep the noise down, yeah?”

Jimin was smirking when the hand near you neck was rescinded. Index finger extended, he held it up to his full lips in understanding. If the look in his eyes didn’t already have you gushing, you would’ve been swept away entirely when he twirled that finger in the air, directing you to turn around.

With your palms flat against wall, you bit down on your lip to stifle the moan he threatened to steal when his warm hands grabbed the hem of your pencil skirt and tugged up, up, up. His right hand grabbed the doughy flesh of one ass cheek; the other disappeared from you. As you heard the metallic clink of a belt buckle opening, he hovered over your spine and his mouth found your ear.

“No panties?” came Jimin’s murmur with a low chuckle, “Feels like fate to me.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him it felt like running out of clean laundry for you. You didn’t have to lie, though; the telltale crinkle of a condom packet took up the few decibels you would’ve had to spare. The subdued stretch of latex followed as he sheathed himself.

Then, if you listened closely, you could likely hear yourself dripping as he quoted you, “Now, doll, keep the noise down, won’t you?”

Jimin made silence a near impossibility. Cock in hand, he teased his tip over your drenched folds, flicking upwards to abuse your clit in the process — and you wanted to whine, to beg, to groan like a woman starved. You had half a mind to growl and demand that he stop toying with you; and you opened your mouth to do so.

He slid into you just in time to convert your plea to a strangled gasp.

He was deliberate with his unimaginably deep thrusts, grinding slowly into your heat to avoid the sick squelch of your cunt overtaking the dead air. You whimpered every time his cock ruttted over your g-spot — so much so that Jimin had to pull your back to his chest and place his hand over your mouth.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit —

When you came, pussy clenching tight around his length, you had to clench your jaw, too. Your eyes screwed shut as he continued to bury himself in you with staccato strokes. Knees trembling, your whole body threatened to fall limp to the floor; but he grunted softly in your ear when his climax came for him, and the sound of him coming undone shot you straight up into space.

You were still trying to unscramble your brain when Jimin pulled his softening cock out of you, muttering “shit” as he went. Eventually, you were able to pull your dress skirt back down. When turned around to face him, his face was flushed, having just discarded a tied-off condom in a trash bin built into the wall.

Thoroughly fuck drunk, Jimin looked at you with a blissed-out, lopsided smile, “Is there a kilometer equivalent to the Mile High Club?”