#i am tired of doing all of this and getting nothing but insults

[what-is-this-bakwaas]

.

[puppmeo]

Have you ever been assumed to be romantically attracted to someone and even just the thought of that makes you want to throw up . Anybody

[sorcerous-caress]

I hope you are doing well

Did I- Did I make it seem like I'm going crazy or something? Like yes I am okay, I promise.

Well, no. I lied, but I'm not worse than normal. I have always been this deranged. It is not out of the ordinary. Why the concerns now?

But thank you anyways, I hope you're doing well too.

[yueebby]

keep dreaming! – gojo satoru

synopsis. down bad? … it’s gojo satoru!

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, he basically has a wet dream of you, you wear tinted lip balm, your first kiss w him (??), suguru plays devil’s advocate

notes. remember spring days!au but can be read alone. anyways, enjoy!! I am writing this while sick (yikes). also of course this wouldn’t be canon compliant if i had not included satoru and suguru’s dynamic! I tried my best to apply their interactions during the basketball match + while theyre leaving jujutsu tech as much as i can.

“satoru…” you murmur, looking up at him shyly. the two of you find yourselves alone in the classroom. a greedy smile plays on his lips, and you struggle to formulate words as your eyes travel from his cerulean ones to his lips. satoru can barely contain his excitement, the anticipation radiates from him like an electric charge.

“say it, [name]. tell me what you want.” he whispers back at you seductively, his eyes are spellbound onto yours. you whine before grabbing the collar of his uniform and pulling him onto you. your lips are soft, so soft. you were made for him, he’s sure, as your lips mold together. as a matter of fact, your lips are so soft that they feel eerily like his pillow–

"get up! we’re late to our mission!" suguru hits the top of satoru’s head with the spare pillow on his bed. the white haired boy immediately activates his innate technique to block his best friend’s attacks.

it was going to be a long day.

“it’s unlike you to wake up so late.” suguru’s hands pause over the shoji door of the classroom. his concern for gojo was more important than the imminent lecture they were going to receive from yaga for their tardiness. “plus you totally sucked today.”

their mission had taken an unexpected turn for the worse when the pair had found themselves stuck in an incomplete domain. the narrow escape was only possible as a result of suguru’s quick thinking with rainbow dragon.

the bandaid on satoru’s cheek is a silent testament to the mission gone wrong.

“i’ve just been tired.” satoru mumbles quietly, heat rising to his cheeks as the memory of the dream flashes in his mind. he was too deep in thought to counter his friend’s insult.

something was definitely wrong. suguru raises his eyebrows, “and it has nothing to do with the fact that i caught you making out with your pillow?”

“i– what?” the heat has spread from his cheeks to all over his face. he hopes his sunglasses cover the blush that was blossoming on his face. suguru lets out a breath of relief. satoru’s blush meant that the matter at hand was only trivial…

“don’t tell me you were dreaming of [name],” his best friend smiles knowingly. satoru groans. suguru definitely knew, he was just playing with him at this point.

their conversation is cut short when the doors slide open by themselves to reveal a certain brown haired girl with a distasteful look on her face.

“satoru is having wet dreams of [name]?” shoko remarks quietly, making sure her comment is only heard by the two males. “i would act surprised, but it’s not like you’re above it.”

“just who do you think i am?” satoru looks down at his friend.  

“a real pervert.” shoko simply replied before quickly making her way back to the desk next to yours. 

satoru’s eyes follow her and make their way onto you. like a fly making its way into a honey trap, he can’t seem to look anywhere else. too busy burning the image of you absorbed in your textbook, he absorbs every little detail from the way your soft lips slightly part to mouth the words of the book to the way your leg bounces underneath the table. were you using a new lip balm? there was a subtle shade difference from your usual choice. gojo makes a mental note to ask you for the exact brand for… personal reasons.

in his trance, satoru fails to notice yaga’s scolding. he had also failed to notice how suguru had already made his way into a desk.

“satoru since you seem so eager to continue standing, i assume you volunteer to solve this equation.” yaga angrily taps the blackboard with a worn out price of chalk. 

satoru stiffens up, not because of yaga’s wrath, but because your attention has shifted from the textbook to him. you blink up at him, the image dangerously similar to his dream. satoru gulps, eyes quickly flitting to the equation messily written on the board. 

at least math equations don’t make him feel like his heart is beating out of his chest.

it didn’t take a genius to notice how quiet satoru has been today. as if he were in his own world, you notice.

“i fear that i may have been giving satoru too much attention lately,” you mutter to your two other friends, mind running laps trying to recall all of the intimate moments you have spent with the white haired fiend— all of which could be characterized as highly inappropriate. 

“you always do,” suguru lazily rests his chin on the palm of his hand on the desk across from you. after yaga’s lecture, the seats had been rearranged appropriately so that the four of you could enjoy lunch together. “lay some of your love on us too.” he gestures his chopsticks to himself and shoko who were sitting side by side.

one could argue that the subtle smirk playing on suguru’s lips were a lot more dangerous than satoru’s. you’re afraid that suguru has started a game that will only end with your downfall.

the silver tongued boy seemed to catch satoru’s attention with his comment.

“ha– mad that you don’t pull? get your own girl,” satoru speaks up for the first time, glaring at his best friend through half lidded eyes from above his dark glasses. the half eaten melonpan in his hand was long forgotten.

“last i checked, [name] wasn’t your girl,” suguru places his chopsticks back down on his bento box. 

you could’ve sworn you saw an irk mark appear on the side of gojo’s face. 

shoko, who had been watching the scene unfold, sips on her juicebox silently. your eyes anxiously flit between the two boys.

“if you’re still mad about that mission, step outside. it’s not like i’m the one savin’ our asses every time.” satoru grits his teeth. 

the loud sound of suguru’s chair screeching on the wooden floor reverberates in the mostly empty room, “you and your uncouth mouth,” he accuses satoru.

shoko flees the scene. smart girl. 

you were about to follow her, but suguru holds out a hand for you to stop,

“i’m just about done anyway. please, don’t cut your meal early on my account,” he looks down at you and your full bento box. the black haired boy leaves no room for discussion when he turns his back to leave the classroom. 

when the shoji doors are slammed shut by suguru, your head whips to satoru who resumes eating his strawberry melonpan. 

“what was that? you’ve been acting strange, satoru– what happened on that mission?”

“don’ worry ‘bout it,” you barely make out the words coming out of his mouth that is full as he munches on the pink bread. 

you scoff, “you can’t just expect me to ignore the argument you just had with suguru. and that ugly bandaid on your face?” you point at the skin-colored bandage haphazardly placed on his face. upon further inspection, you also notice the growing eyebags on his face. it was truly peculiar to see any blemish on satoru’s perfect face.

he pouts, “are you calling me ugly?” satoru doesn't take pleasure in upsetting you, but the gradual way you leaned closer to him sparked an unexpected thrill within him.

“no, i’m worried about you. you’re being weird, satoru.” he was far from ugly.

as your back faces the window, the outside light casts an otherworldly glow around you.

“well, aren’t you an angel?” he tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, completely enamored.

“you never stop, do you? you’ve been completely out of it all day!” your scrutinizing gaze zeroes in on gojo who was mindlessly nodding with a dazed out smile on his face. “and judging by the way you’re all bandaged up, suguru was probably right! i mean you totally got roughed up. the great gojo satoru, wounded.” 

satoru blushes at your angry face. he’d say something indecent, but he fears that it would only scare you away. if only you knew that the reason he was all messed up was because of you.

“it's partially your fault, y'know.” cerulean eyes blink at you sheepishly before being replaced by a newfound mischievous look.

he doesn’t miss the way your anger shifts into confusion.

"excuse me?"

satoru continues, “if it weren't for you appearing in my dream i wouldn't have been distracted by that incomplete domain.” he points to the bandage cut just below his right eye.

“dreaming of me now, gojo?" you raise an eyebrow. the uncomfortable heat that was starting to rise onto your face at the new revelation that gojo dreams about you is ignored.

satoru looks away, "can you really blame a guy?"

you huff, ignoring his comment, “i think yaga has a first aid kit somewhere in the closet.” you make your way to check out the forgotten door in the back of the classroom. 

the cool sterility of medical supplies contrasts with the charged atmosphere left behind in the classroom.

when you do come back with the kit, your heart races, praying he won't notice the hitch in your breath as your fingers delicately tend to the nearly healed scratch beneath his cheek. satoru's ability to evoke strange emotions within you is undeniable.

silence envelops the classroom, broken only by satoru's deep breaths. you're so close that you can almost feel the warm gusts of air from his breath on your face.

"your body healed remarkably fast. i'm not surprised," you softly observe, your focus on the task at hand. satoru smiles, his eyes fixed on your concentrated features.

"yeah? well, i have an excellent nurse," he remarks, tapping the freshly placed bandaid on his cheek. "though it seems she missed one of my injuries."

you furrow your eyebrows. satoru points to his expectant lips, a playful pout on his face.

"no," you plainly state.

"aw, c'mon. kiss it better? i almost died today," he pleads, his eyes silently begging. you shake your head, unaware that it was your fault he nearly lost his head during the mission.

"you really want a kiss?" you repeat, catching on to his persistent request.

he nods fervently, his excitement palpable. was that even a question

you think he was pretty insane– requesting kisses from a fellow peer.

“satoru..” you murmur, leaning closer to him. his eyes were twinkling with excitement. the two of you were all alone, left with nothing but each other. this scene was all too familiar. 

the sides of his lips quirk up into a smirk while he watches your eyes travel all around his face. satoru has been fantasizing about this moment since the moment he laid eyes on you.

“[name],” he says, his voice softer than ever, a privilege reserved for those closest to him—especially you.

just a few more inches and your lips will meet… just a few…

slap!

satoru blinks in shock while you giggle at his confusion. he attempts to ask what just happened, but his mouth is sealed. his hand rises to find a bandaid now on his lips.

“you’re cuter when you shut up.”

 you seal your words with a soft kiss placed on his bandaged mouth.

...

gojo satoru explodes, his voice muffled by an adhesive barrier.

“m.rrry.. m.. mph..mph!”

extra: 

all conflicts were resolved by evening when you had strategically set up a mario kart tournament.

right after you (indirectly) kissed gojo, you fled the scene, leaving a flustered satoru all hot and bothered. you ended up screaming into your pillow.. the same pillow that satoru was laying on not too long ago.

[kkuzushi]

KRNDJENSIND words cannot express how happy i am when you wrote my "loving scara in the public restroom" request LIKE— AAAAAA THANK YOU SO SO MUCH

Yes i have came to you with ANOTHER REQUEST— imagine reader being so busy because of assignments and scara is over here being a top 1 student who already finished all his homeworks and gets frustrated(also concerned) with you because he thinks you're so stupid to not know/understand this equation/subject and how you're not sleeping and eating that much. And whenever he offers to help you, you refuse and he gets so frustrated that he started insulting you like crazy and now you two started fighting..... One thing led to another and scara found himself pinned on the bed while getting pounded— and and they are still insulting each other while they're at it

So they're kinda like fighting while making love..............

You can ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable... But if you do plan on taking this, THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN🫶🏻🫶🏻

Also can I be 🎐 or 💜 anon? (Incase the former has already been taken...)

“ 𝗚𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽 𝗦𝘁𝘂𝗱𝘆..𝗶𝗻 𝗕𝗲𝗱 ”

✦ characters: sub!scaramouche x gn!dom!reader

✦ cw: modern college scara, rival-ish, handjob (giving), slight brat taming, slight humiliation, edging, begging, dacryphilia, cock/strap penetration

✦ word count: 2.199k

✦ notes: I may or may not have gotten overboard with this one.. Apologies for the late submission, but yes, you can be my 🎐anon. <3

✦ Part 1 | Part 2

Hell week has arrived at your university which means it's time for endless study sessions in your room like every normal student would do, unless they’re confident with their skills.

And of course, one of those students was Scaramouche—the one who effortlessly reaches the honor list. Seriously, how does he do it? Either way, that should be the least of your problems. You're over competing with him when it comes to academics.

However, the man doesn't seem to get the hint, always disturbing the peace in your shared dorm everytime he sees you going cross-eyed with the learning materials scattered at your work desk.

Scaramouche leans casually against the doorway, watching you silently for a moment as you pore over your notes. A smirk slowly spreads across his face before he speaks, the teasing arrogance evident in his voice.

“Are you stressing over there again?” He crosses his arms, walking closer and peering at your notes. “I could ace this in my sleep. You know, if you're going to work this hard, at least make sure it's worth it.”

His tone softens just slightly as his eyes flicker over your tired expression. “Just go to bed, you won't be able to surpass me no matter how you study anyway.”

You kept your eyes glued to your notes, not allowing the annoying presence beside you to disturb your concentration. “Bold of you to assume I'm studying to ‘surpass’ you,” You responded shortly after.

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow—if you weren't studying to surpass him, then why are you working your ass off for this? He wouldn't say you're on the same level of intelligence as him but it's not like you were dumb.

But that's what you two were, right? Academic rivals, or at least, that's what he thought.

“Anyway, could you leave? I need to focus here,” Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts, remembering he's still in your room.

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Scaramouche asks, crossing his arms as he looks down at you with a smirk. “Last time I checked, we share this dorm.”

“This dorm, not this room,” You corrected, clicking your pen. “Now leave, your annoying face is distracting me.”

How rude, he's been doing nothing but ease your mind from the stress you're experiencing. Sure he just teases the hell out of you, but can't you be a little more appreciative?

“You're an ungrateful brat, you know that?” He frowned, snatching a page of your notes from your desk. He hummed, taking a good look at what you've written, though it looked like he's just judging your handwriting.

“Who the hell needs to take notes in math? Just remember the formula and you're good to go,” Scaramouche complained. Was he just sugarcoating the question “are you stupid”? You could almost hear those same exact words in between his statements.

“Well unfortunately, not everyone is like you,” You argued before extending your hand, gesturing for the note he's still holding, “Now give that back.”

Scaramouche hummed, his eyes flickering over to you and the paper he’s holding before his lips curled upwards again. “And if I say no?” He grinned, keeping the item out of your reach.

You could almost feel a vein appear on your forehead—irritation wasn't an unfamiliar feeling when it comes to dealing with your roommate. You pushed yourself up and reached for the paper but Scaramouche was too quick to pull it away.

“Scaramouche!” You called out, the frustration in your tone becoming more apparent. His grin widened, enjoying your helplessness in this situation, “Too slow.”

You make another attempt to reach for it, lunging forward with determination, and to your misfortune, Scaramouche pulls away at the last minute—a sharp, ripping sound coming from the material, tearing down from the middle, leaving the both of you with a piece.

Scaramouche was stunned for a moment, it wasn't part of his plan to rip out your notes. His smirk falters but he composed himself, swallowing the guilt, “That was clearly your fault. If you asked nicely, I would’ve–”

Before he could finish his sentence, he found himself tumbling backwards onto your bed, the mattress creaking from the sudden weight. “Hey–! What the fuck was that for?!” He retorted, supporting himself on his elbows.

You approached him on the bed, one leg sliding in between his, your knee pressing lightly on his crotch. His eyes widened slightly from the contact, but he hid it with a scowl. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked in a low tone.

“You think you can just waltz in here,” You pressed down your knee, feeling his member throb. “Disturb me while I'm studying, then ruin my notes for fun?” You added more pressure, watching his adam's apple bob as he gulped.

“You think I did that on purpose?!” He argued, his cheeks puffing with red tint. The tension’s getting to him and he can't say he doesn’t like it, but that doesn't make it less embarrassing. “I would've given it back if you begged,” He added, grabbing your shoulders to push you away with an obvious half-hearted strength.

“Begging, huh?” A malicious smirk appeared on your lips. Your hand reaches for the waistband of his sweatpants, revealing his garment that's now outlining a bulge.

“Hey! Don't you dare–” Scaramouche attempts to push your hand away, but you were quick enough to pin his wrists above his head. Now he was fully trapped beneath you, the warmth on his cheeks deepening as he scowled at you.

“Can't you be cooperative for once?” You huffed, now taking his boxers off. He wriggled his hips to make things difficult for you yet it only assisted in removing his garment. His cock springs out, arousal evident with how hard he already got.

You eyed him, watching his reaction once your hand was wrapped around his length, pumping to and fro. The indigo-haired boy bit his lip, suppressing his sounds, though soft whimpers escaped.

“There's no need to be shy.”

“I'm not! You're just bad at giving handjo–ohmmFuHK–♡”

“You talk too much,” You grumbled and picked up the pace. A bead of precum instantly leaked out from the head of his cock, allowing your hand to slide easily on his shaft.

Scaramouche gritted his teeth, unable to protest any longer in fear of moaning accidentally as soon as he opens his mouth. With how vulnerable he felt in this compromising position, he felt himself getting closer to edge, quicker than he usually does.

“Shit– hah.. ‘m gonna..♡” He murmured, closing his eyes as he accepted the inevitable defeat—until your hand stopped, forcing his climax to go back down.

His eyes shot open, not expecting for you to deny him release. “Why’d you stop??” Scaramouche asked frustratedly, his hips bucking to your palm to create friction.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, “You didn't expect to cum so easily, did you?” you teased. A baffled expression appears on the indigo haired man’s face, his eyebrows furrowing down.

“Hm, maybe if you begged,” You cooed, using his previous words against him as you start stroking his cock once more, “I might just consider it.”

His eyes widened a little more, begging? You must be out of your mind if you think you'll get the Scaramouche to beg, much less for a release.

But things aren't working out to his favor. Your hand around the length, the relentless pace returning as his hips snapped from the sensation. Scaramouche could no longer argue; the pressure mounting inside him was too much, threatening to explode once again.

“Too fast– ngh– gonna..! ♡” he whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as his body tensed, unable to hold back the impending release. Just as he felt himself teetering on the edge, your hand abruptly stopped again, “Didn't I say you should beg?”

His eyes fluttered open, a mixture of frustration and desperation on his face. “I never agreed to do that,” He huffed, wiggling his wrists out of your grip.

Seems like a simple handjob won't do the trick. Deciding to take it up a notch, you pulled your own pants down. The blush on Scaramouche's face tripled, “What are you planning?” He asked in a sharp tone though he can't deny how his cock throbbed at the sight of your own.

“Don’t play stupid,” You sneered, grinding the head on Scaramouche's ass, pressing your body against his to spread his legs; your free hand moved to his hips, supporting your position.

His eyebrows furrowed further to your comment, lips quivering as he slowly engulfs your length. Once you full bottom out, Scaramouche tried to relax, his breath coming with uneven huffs as he adjusted to the intrusion.

“You look cute underneath me like this,” You teased as you started to thrust into him at a languid pace. A gasp would leave his mouth every time you'd rub him deeply inside—If he could, he'd grab onto you or the sheets to ground himself, but with his wrists still pinned down by your grip, all he could do was accept the sensation.

It wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He's a patient man and you'll start to get needy soon, Scaramouche thinks to himself. Unfortunately, this was a game he was losing. “Would you stop playing around!?” he hissed, the desperation seething with every word.

You kept the agonizingly slow pace, dragging out every second, watching him writhe with need. Every teasing thrust had him gasping, his body trembling with anticipation, yet you refused to give him what he wanted.

Scaramouche's frustration finally reached its peak, patience snapping as he growled through gritted teeth. “If you’re going fuck me, then fuck me properly!” He spat, his indigo eyes narrowing in aggravation. “Or are you so incompetent that you can’t even do this right?” His voice trembled though still attempted to argue.

You raised an eyebrow, your amusement only growing at his outburst. “Bold words,” you smirked, leaning down to kiss his neck, “for someone who’s trembling.”

“Youhnn♡... jerk!” Scaramouche retorted, his voice laced with both frustration and embarrassment as his body trembled beneath yours again. “Fucking brat..” he added, breathless as his chest heaved with every sharp inhale, his emotions threatening to spill over completely.

“Ironic,” You laughed. Scaramouche’s frustration mounted as his head fell back against the pillow. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the watery sensation. He couldn’t stand this anymore. The humiliation, the teasing—it was too much.

“Shut up...” he whispered, voice trembling as tears began to well in the corners of his eyes. His breath hitched, and despite himself, a frustrated sob broke through his chest. “Shut up and just–just fuck me already!” His voice wavered, filled with desperation.

The word left his lips before he could stop it, and the moment it did, Scaramouche’s defiance shattered completely. He was crying now, tears mixing with frustration as his body gave up the fight. “Fuck me properly already.. please..!” He whimpered, the last word coming out unexpectedly.

You didn't think he'd cry from desperation but it was definitely a beautiful sight. Just having the ever so prideful and arrogant Scaramouche trembling, crying, and begging underneath you.. it was like you're on top of the world already.

Finally getting what you wanted, you firmly grabbed his hips and gave him one rough thrust, to which he responded with a choked out gasp. “Like that?” You murmured.

“Yes!♡ Ohngh god.. more! ♡” He moaned, his back arching with how precise your cock has hit his sensitive prostate. You've been teasing and edging him for too long, it feels like he's about to crumble just this very moment.

As you continued fucking his ass with more enthusiasm, Scaramouche could no longer stop his wanton moans. “More, please..hah–♡” He begged though still quite with a demanding tone, “Don't you–mmngh♡♡–dare stop..!”

You feel him slowly tightening around your length, his climax building up once more.

“I'm close–”

“You know what to say.”

“..let me cum.. please–AHnggh!♡♡”

How does the word ‘please’ sound so good from his mouth? It only motivated you to finally let him get his release, pounding him vigorously without a break. The overwhelming sensation has his legs shaking, and with one last scream– “C-Comingghmmm..!!♡♡♡”

Ropes of thick cum shot out, landing on his stomach. He whimpered and panted heavily, all energy he had earlier now extinct. You continued to thrust a little more before your own orgasm joined him, your body slowly collapsing on top of him.

The two of you stayed there, bodies sticking with sweat and other fluids. “I'm still not letting you off the hook about my notes,” you wheezed, managing a tired grin.

“I have some.. in my room,” he muttered, his voice weak and a little hoarse. He was still catching his breath but his usual sharpness had faded, replaced with exhaustion and a hint of embarrassment.

“In math? I thought you didn't need that,” you smirked as you brushed a few strands of hair away from his face. “You better not be lying, or we’ll be doing this all over again.”

Scaramouche let out a quiet scoff, his usual attitude barely making a comeback. “As if you’d complain.”

[monstersholygrail]

Okay for the birds. Since you asked so nicely. (And because I am on my knees BEGGING for crumbs of this!!!) How would they react to reader living in a run down apartment? Like it takes a lot of money to keep a studio going, even with such... passionate attendees. Yeah they spoil reader at the studio, but what about seeing reader out and about? At home, out shopping?

For Scarlet Macaw Bird Hybrids the colony keeps coming at you like they’re vultures. They’re greedy for your cum, needy for the tight clench of your fat cunt milking their cocks dry, desperate for your cries of pleasure and who can force them out of you, and they crave the feel of your pliable flesh in their loving hands as they take you over and over again.

They’ve all lost themselves in you, as if you’ve pulled a veil of lust over their eyes and they are nothing but mindless machines set for your pleasure. It’s all they want. To feel that deep connection with you, their precious mate.

One after the other they fuck you dumb, bringing you release after release. Even as your body grows more tired they can see the need in your eyes and they won’t stop until their mate is fully satisfied.

As your next orgasm crashes into you, your eyes roll back, your body no longer having the strength to fully seize and shudder with the sheer force of your pleasure.

Your mates currently taking care of you each unload a hefty amount of cum inside your gushing walls. It isn’t until they slip out of you to lightly peck kisses along your face that they realized they fucked you till you passed out.

All the bird hybrids coo at you in worry, their wings flapping as they surround your plush fucked out form. All limp and beautiful. Their hands lovingly caress every inch of your body, making sure you’re alright.

“I’ll take her to her human apartment. Make sure she gets there safe,” one of the bird hybrids speak up.

Instantly a chorus of over bird hybrids chirp out their disagreement. All of them wanting to be the one who takes you home and tucks you into bed. Anything just to be with you for a little bit longer and to take care of you. But the first bird hybrid stands his ground and insists.

Taking you into his arms he begins to fly you home. You had never shown any of the bird hybrids in the colony where you lived but a few started following you home after your night class with them and soon after everyone knew where you lived and would follow you to make sure you got home safe after that class.

Silly humans would call it stalking. But they were only looking after you! They made sure you never got hurt and hurt anyone who dared try.

You didn’t live in a very good neighborhood after all, putting most of your money into your studio, so they had to take care of you. Even if that meant scaring off anyone who looked at you funny or with any interest.

But none of the birds had ever been inside your apartment before. As the bird hybrid uses your key to enter, his eyes widen in horror at the sight of your run down apartment. Their mate could not live like this. Not under their watch.

After tucking you into bed, the bird hybrid gets out his phone and enters their colony group chat dedicated specifically to talking about you.

“OUR MATE IS LIVING IN SHAMBLES!” The bird hybrid texts into the chat to convey his panic. Seconds later and the group chat is blowing up.

“I knew we didn't pay ‘nough for her classes!"

"Should demand she raise them…"

"Do dance teachers get random bonuses?"

“Would she feel insulted if we gave her money at the end of classes after we’ve fucked her raw?”

“Not if she’s too blissed out to notice us slipping the money in her bag.”

“Nah, she wouldn’t like. I think the humans call it Pros— Pollution? Or Hook— something to do with fishing, I don’t know. It’s not a good idea.”

“That’s not the point! What are we going to do about this? We can’t allow this to continue,” the bird hybrid types, interrupting their rambling.

“Could always take her back to the nest…” one hybrid suggests. He thinks about it for a moment before he shakes his head.

“An idea for another day. She wouldn’t go for it now. We need to fix up her place until she’s ready.” The bird hybrid with you concludes.

As you sleep the bird hybrid plans for everything. He sends for a whole bunch of them to head over to your apartment. A team of them flying around and taking what they need to help fix up your apartment while another team prepares the place for work.

When everyone arrives at your apartment things quickly dissolve into chaos. Of course, all the Bird Hybrids want to see you first sleeping all pretty and fucked out in your bed. The Hybrids at that night class immediately start boasting about how good they fucked you and others immediately raise their voices, pleading their own case.

It’s only when you shift on the bed that the Bird Hybrid that brought you home immediately shushes them.

“Stop, stop, stop! We can’t wake her,” he whispers.

Their eyes all fall back onto you, silently watching your plush figure squirm and settle back on the bed. The small action alone causing them to get a little hard and they have to force themselves not to clamber onto the bed and wake you up.

No, instead they get to work. Upgrading your apartment in every possible way they know how. Cleaning it up and making it into a real home. While also enforcing it and making sure you’re the safest person in the neighborhood.

Creating the near perfect nest. Only second to their own they hope to bring you to someday.

They can’t wait for you to finally wake up. They all imagine the look on your face when you rouse from your slumber to see them all there and your apartment completely changed. But most of all… they can’t wait for the thank you gifts you’re bound to give them all.

You have to break in your new apartment somehow, don’t you?

[tusks-and-claws]

I’m Not What You Need (But I Am)

Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary:  “When you sit there/acting like you know me/acting like you only brought me here to get below me”

You have a concern to bring to Miguel, but when he hears what you really think of him, he doesn’t let you off so easily

Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, kind of missionary idk what to call it, dominant Miguel, brat taming, orgasm denial, dirty talk, choking, sort of strangers to lovers, maybe a little bit of a hatefuck if you squint, reader is a Spider person, def a bit out of character

Wordcount: 3.5k

Find on Ao3 here :3

"Why are you coming to me with such trivial annoyances?" Miguel O'Hara asked you from the platform of his lab, at least ten feet above you. He was tapping on various screens, not giving you eye contact. It felt purposeful, pointed. 

"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted to know when fights broke out. Keeping the peace and all that." You felt yourself growing warm, anxiety fluttering in your stomach. 

"What I want," he said, his tone growing short. "Is for people to sort out their own bullshit, so I can worry about what's important. Which, if you haven't noticed, is much bigger than you and I and some stupid fight in the lobby."

As soon as he said it, you knew he was right. But he was still being an asshole. You were only trying to help.

You put your hands up in defense. "I just thought you'd wanna know." Then whispered under your breath "douchebag," as you turned to walk away.

But your progress was halted by something tugging at your wrist. You looked down to see what it was, and closed your eyes, quietly cursing yourself. Neon red webbing. 

"You wanna run that by me again?" Miguel asked. 

You swallowed a lump in your throat. "Nothing, it was nothing. I'll just leave." 

You tried to pull free, but he was reeling you in, like a helpless fish on a hook. "Oh, no," he said, sounding somewhat amused. "No, I heard you. 'Douchebag,' eh? Not very creative. But…" he paused when you were closer, close enough that he could look directly down at you. "I want to hear you say it again. Face to face, this time."

You frowned. "How can we be 'face to face' when you're so high above me?"

He wagged a finger at you. "You've got a point there." In a sudden flash of tingling, your Spider sense triggered. But Miguel was too fast, he'd been doing this for far longer than you had. In an instant, you were wrapped in neon red and being hoisted upward onto the platform. He planted you right in front of him, putting his hands on his hips and leaning down so his eyes were level with yours. "Happy?"

You huffed. Why was he like this? A self-satisfied grin played at the edges of his plush lips as he scrutinized you with bloodshot eyes. Finally registering how close he was, and how huge he was, you started turning red. He could throw you around like you weighed nothing, couldn't he? He had just lifted you up here with hardly any effort. You'd never thought about another Spider like this. Sure, you were all strong, but there was something in Miguel's upper body that you couldn't free from your thoughts, something in those massive shoulders, something-

"Well?" He asked, breaking your trance. "I don't have all day."

You met his eyes. They looked so tired. You didn't want to insult him anymore. You wanted to leave and pretend like the thoughts you had about him never existed. 

But you knew what he needed to hear. 

"Douchebag," you repeated. 

He smiled, and it was humorless. "It's nice to know that this is what people think of me. That I did this for all of us, and everyone in our worlds. And the word that comes to mind when people talk to me is…?" He raised an eyebrow prompting you. 

"...Douchebag."

"That's right!" He pointed a finger at you. "I don't ask for much. I ask for people to listen and respect the operation. And that means respecting my time, too, eh? No more coming right to me with petty fights that people can solve on their own." 

You just stared back up at him, hardly registering his words. Respect time, no more fights, whatever. His hair looked so soft. 

"Got it?" He asked, starting to sound frustrated again. 

You nodded.

"I need to hear you say it."

"G-got it." 

"Good." He patted your shoulder. What an odd gesture. It was very nearly caring. "Let's get you out of here." He flexed his hand, talons coming free. He quickly swiped at the webbing he had wrapped you in, the strands snapping and falling to the floor in shreds.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. His brow furrowed. "Listen, I know I'm scary, but I'm just doing my job."

You shook your head. "I'm- I'm not scared."

"Are you not? Dios mio, I can hear your blood pumping." 

His heightened senses were going to be your death sentence. The longer he stood staring at you, the worse your thoughts became. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away from his attention. You crossed your arms, trying to make yourself small so he would stop looking at you. 

He raised an eyebrow. "What, do you wanna be friends or something?"

No, you thought, I want us to be something different. 

Despite your best efforts, you blurted out, "no, in all honesty, I've never really liked you that much." Why did you say that? What was wrong with you? 

He cocked his head, his eyes widening, processing what you just said. He started to nod. "Oh, wow. Great. Thank you so much. What a productive conversation. And you're still here because…?"

"Because you getting the last word in is infuriating to me." You couldn't stop yourself. You knew this was bad, but you couldn't stop.

"How do you think I feel? You came here for the sole purpose of bothering me and now you won't leave me the shock alone." He pointed at you again, forefinger lightly jabbing your collarbone. "You. Can. Leave. This is my lab, you little brat." He spoke the words through gritted teeth, and you could just barely see his elongated canines, gleaming and sharp in the light of the lab's computer screens. 

Oh no.

You stood there, just blinking at him. You've never seen someone so annoyed looking so attractive at the same time. It wasn't fucking fair.

He suddenly started, the anger from his face vanishing, confusion taking its place. "Oh yeah?" He asked, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "That's why your heart is pounding?"

Fuck.

"What, uh… what do you-"

"Don't play dumb with me.” He placed a gloved finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I can smell that you're turned on. Is that why you came here to bother me? So you could gawk at me? And maybe I'd fuck you if you were lucky."

You backed up, nearly slipping off the edge of the raised platform. Miguel reached out and caught your hand, pulling you in close to him. Unconsciously, you splayed your hands on his chest to steady yourself. His body was so warm and inviting, and you were drawn into it like a little planet circling a blazing sun. 

What was happening, what were you doing?

"Is that what you thought?" He asked, seeming to echo the questions you asked yourself, his voice growing more quiet as he looked down at you.

You quickly raised your hands away from him, closing them into loose fists and crossing your arms again. "No," you said, truthfully. 

"But you're thinking it now." He nodded. "Aren't you?"

After a pause, you nodded too.

"I really need to hear you say it." He probed.

"I'm…. I'm thinking about it now."

"Oh, are you? Thinking about what?"

You swore under your breath, doing a poor job of hiding a scowl. You should've known he wasn't going to make it easy for you. 

"Thinking about you fucking me." You grimaced after admitting it, waiting for him to mock you and disown you. 

He smiled. "That's funny. I thought I was a douchebag." 

"Fuck you, man!" You threw your arms up into the air, turning around and preparing to hop down from the platform. 

“No no no, come on, now,” he said, grasping your wrist with a large, warm hand. His grip was surprisingly gentle. “Why don’t you give me a chance to change your mind?”

You looked him in the eyes, and there was a small spark there. You sighed, unable to deny the reaction your body had to him. You wanted him. And he was offering himself to you. What reality was this where that was even possible? Not ten minutes ago, you were hardly closer than strangers. “Okay,” you said, offering him a small grin. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“Oh, I won’t.” In another swift movement, he swept you up into his arms and laid you down on your back on the lab floor. He was above you, arms on either side of your head, boxing you in. You could hardly see anything past those vast shoulders. You swallowed. He raised one hand to your head, petting your hair. “Look at that. You really are so pretty. Couldn’t help thinking it even when you were pissing me off earlier.”

You furrowed your brow. “I thought you wanted to change my mind, asshole, is this-”

He cut you off as his hand lowered, skating down your side and brushing against your breast before traveling even further. You exhaled shakily, trying to prepare yourself for this. Miguel O'Hara was touching you. Miguel O'Hara was going to fuck you. 

When he reached the curvature of your hips, he fondly squeezed, humming to himself. "Soft… so soft. You wouldn't want an asshole like me to eat you out, would you?"

Your brain short-circuited at how blatant he was. "No, I- I would, I really fucking would, Miguel."

"Oh, are we on a first name basis, now?" He hooked a clawed finger into the fabric of your suit, ripping a huge gash into it so he could access you. That… that was your good suit. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to keep yourself from quipping back at him as he scooted downward, wrapping his arms around your thighs and lining himself up with your pussy. You threw your head back in anticipation, screwing your eyes shut. How was this real? How was-

You gasped as his tongue made gentle contact with your sex, slowly and carefully licking a long swipe from your opening to your clit, like he was savoring the first taste of you. 

"You taste even better than you smell, amor." 

Fuck, he was savoring you. You trembled beneath him, your hands tentatively reaching down to tangle with his hair. And it was even softer than you thought it would be. 

"That's it," he encouraged. "Hang onto me." 

You listened, your grip on his hair tightening. As if that were his cue, he brought his tongue back to your aching pussy, lapping at the wetness that was all but dripping from you. Your body immediately felt too hot on the metal floor, and you were convinced that you were beginning to melt under the warmth of his tongue. The almost-penetration was sending you spiraling; he was giving you nothing that you needed while somehow simultaneously answering your every secret desire. You needed that mouth on your clit. Your greedy, aroused body needed more, more. You had him all to yourself and he was teasing you. It wasn't fair. 

You whimpered as you gripped soft locks of his hair, waiting for him to take the plunge. Waiting…. And waiting. But he just kept lapping contentedly at your entrance, just barely dipping his tongue inside. The feeling was pleasant but infuriating. What was he trying to do? Did he want you to beg for it?

Oh.

…He couldn't be serious. 

But that was the only conclusion you could reach. After all, he'd been asking to hear you say things this entire encounter, prompting you to be vocal. All you had to do was swallow your pride. 

"M-Miguel…?" You asked, your voice quiet.

He stopped, picking his head up slightly, looking at you from under his thick brows. "Mm? What is it?"

"Please, um… please…." Your voice caught in your throat. Why was this so difficult?

"Oh, you're begging me now? What could you possibly be begging for… Isn't this what you wanted?"

You narrowed your eyes as he held your gaze with that lackadaisical expression. 

"Please," you started, feeling humiliated. "Please suck on my clit."

"Good girl. All you had to do was ask." In no time at all, his mouth was back on you. He zeroed in on your clit, taking the sensitive bundle of nerves into the wet warmth of his mouth, sucking on it just as you needed. The feeling was so intense and you couldn't suppress any of the noises that escaped you. And the noises he made didn't help in the slightest. He was humming as he worked your clit, the gentle vibrations of his voice adding to the overstimulation. He stopped for a moment to instead use his tongue, and the pointed attention was delicious.

"How are you feeling, amor?" He asked without fully pulling away from you, his voice slightly lisping from the contact. 

"Good," you gasped, feeling like you were getting close to the edge. "So, so good. Please keep going."

"Tell me when you're going to cum."

"Yes, yes I will." 

He continued his efforts, mercilessly devouring you, a cacophony of wet sounds rising to meet your ears. You could feel your orgasm building, your body singing. He was playing you like an instrument. That warm, pulsating feeling was building deep inside your core, threatening to burst apart with every second. 

Your grip on his hair tightened. "Miguel, I'm- I'm gonna-" 

Your back started arching and you closed your eyes as… nothing happened. He pulled his head away from you. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you from between your legs, one of his eyebrows raised. 

"Wha- what?" 

He smirked. "Oh, this? It's nothing... It's just that douchebags usually don't care about making women cum."

Your jaw dropped open. This again? You gritted your teeth, your clit swollen and thrumming with your pulse. You needed release. 

"I'm sorry." You said, your voice desperate. 

He raised his eyebrows, amused. "Oh, wow, that was fast." His tone was so matter-of-fact.

"I'm sorry for calling you a douchebag and an asshole, I was wrong about you. Please let me cum." You spat the words out so quickly that you hardly registered what you were saying. 

"How could I say no to that?" He returned to you, gripping your thighs more firmly than he had before, shamelessly moaning into you as you started to curl up off the hard metal floor. Your orgasm was so close, it was right within your grasp. Your breath started going ragged as you held onto him for dear life. In a white hot burst of pleasure, you came, swearing loudly as Miguel drank up every bit of you, letting you ride your orgasm out on his skillful tongue. He slowed down right as you did, matching your pace perfectly until you were a heaving mess on the floor in front of him.

"My turn, now," his voice came through the fog, it sounded distant. But you could feel strong arms lifting you up and all but dropping you onto your back on one of the lab's computer consoles, its screen turning off in response. He dismissed a section of his high tech suit, his manhood coming free. You couldn't help but gawk at him. His body was unreal. From the small window he created, you could see hard lines of muscle carved into golden skin. Your head started spinning again. 

He began pumping his hard cock as he looked down at you, spreading your legs further open with his free hand. "See how easy it is to get what you want when you aren't being a brat?" The way his muscles flexed through his tight suit while he worked himself was maddening. You wanted- no, you needed him to fuck you. You needed him inside you. 

You nodded your head, answering his question. 

"So, tell me what you want." 

"I want you to fuck me," you answered, still panting from your orgasm. "I want to feel you so badly. Please, Miguel."

"You're a fast learner," he purred, bringing his cock to your folds and lubricating himself on the mess you two had made. He slid over your slick entrance, his head touching your aching clit as he moved up and down. "I'll fuck this pretty cunt for you, since you asked so nicely." 

He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed himself inside of you, inch by thick inch. You moaned, the feeling of finally being full was luscious, he was pressing at your walls from all angles. At last, when he was in up to the hilt, he stayed there for a moment while his large hands found your waist. 

"My God, look at you. You took all of me, and so shocking well. You," he exhaled, seemingly taking a second to compose himself. "You feel so good." 

"Thank you," you whispered, breathless. He was praising you. It was… nice to hear. Stubbornness be damned.

He chuckled to himself. "Please and thank you? You really do learn fast. You've earned this, amor." And with that, he pulled himself out of you, slamming back in with a hard slap. Over and over, he fucked you with the entire length of his cock, hitting spots inside of you that you weren't sure even existed. "Lemme hear you, I wanna hear it all."

You obeyed. "O-oh my God, Miguel, fuck. It's… it's so good. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you."

Thanking him fueled his fire; his grip on your waist tightening, red eyes sparkling wildly. "Good girl, that's it… watching my cock disappear inside of you… it's making me crazy. You like getting fucked by someone you hated before all this? You wanna get filled up by someone you don't even like?"

"Yes, please." Your back arched into him, the pressure from his unwavering thrusts overwhelming you. The feeling was impossibly perfect, your body tingling from your head to your toes. He really did fit inside of you so well.  

"You'll get it, baby. Keep being good for me, you'll get it." 

As he continued, his hands roamed your body. Groping at your breasts, resting on the soft slope of your stomach. You grabbed one of his traveling hands, a rogue feeling overtaking you as you brought it up to your throat. 

His eyes widened in disbelief. “Y-yeah? You want me to choke you?” He sounded excited.

“P-please,” you huffed, grabbing onto his forearm.

“Holy shit, you’re something else.” He began applying gentle pressure to your airway as he kept fucking you. It was the perfect amount of constriction; suppressing your breath intake just enough for your head to feel pleasantly airy. He was good at that, why was he so good at that?

Between the way he was pounding you and the way he was choking you, your muscles started to bear down on him.

"Yes, yes, squeeze that cock. Good girl. You’re gonna get what you want.” 

You clenched down on him, your orgasm rocking you to your core as he fucked you through it. It hit you in giant waves, crashing over you and pulling you into the undertow. You felt completely drunk on it. The warmth of it was everywhere in your body, all the way up to your fingertips. Your head swam, your eyes rolling back into your head. Miguel swore to himself, his tempo becoming more irregular. He released your throat, hands flying down to grip the console. You thought you could hear it cracking. 

“God, you’re tight. I’m gonna fill you up.”

“Yes,” you rasped, your body shaking. 

He growled as he came inside of you, bearing his fangs in clenched teeth once more, and you could feel his cock twitch followed by the heat of his seed as it stuffed you full. He lingered over you, his eyes looking frenzied as his gaze flicked over your face, his chest heaving with every recovering breath. 

You released a deep sigh, smiling tenderly at him. “Thank you, Miguel.”

“You, uh,” he started awkwardly, running his hands through his hair. He still hadn’t even pulled out of you yet. “You earned it,” he repeated. 

He took a short, unsure step back, as he pulled his length free from you. You could feel his cum leaking from you upon his release. There was so much of it. 

He held his hand out to you to help you up, and you grasped it, smiling again as you got to your feet. 

“I’ll clean this mess up, but you.…” He scanned your frame. “...I’ve got a pair of pants on one of the lab chairs down there.” He pointed toward a particularly cluttered section of his space. “Bringing them back would be a much better excuse to see me than a fight in the lobby.”

[andvys]

I know places E.M.

Warnings: 18+, smut, reader giving Eddie a blowjob, bullying, Jason being Jason.., reader is a popular cheerleader

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You cheer Eddie up in a special way.

Word count: 2k+

Author's note: this is inspired by this Steve smut when reader mentioned her past moments with Eddie... this is only one of them, there's more coming. @mysticmunson thank you for inspiring me to write this hehe

stranger things masterlist

-

The cafeteria was bustling, loud voices, laughter and giggles sounded through the large room, the cheerleaders were gossiping, the jocks were laughing loudly about something, the nerds were already doing their homework instead of eating and you were observing. 

With a hand under your chin and a pointed look in your eyes, you were looking around, searching for him. You always looked forward to his dramatic speeches, you loved watching him, how he’d get on the table and come up with theatrical words as he insulted the jocks and the rich popular kids, he knew he would only get shit for it later on, get another black eye or a flat tire, yet it never stopped him, he only came back with a smirk and do it all over again. 

You were waiting but he didn’t come. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Chrissy asks, nudging your shoulder. 

You nod but your brows are furrowed. His friends were at their usual table but he was nowhere to be found. 

You turn to look at your friend, noticing that her boyfriend wasn’t here either. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m gonna go to the restroom, gotta fix my hair.” 

“Your hair looks fine,” she mumbles as she eyes your ponytail, raising her hand to brush it back, “pretty as always.” 

You smile and suddenly her eyes widen, “wait, are you trying to impress someone, oh my god, who is it?” She gasps, raising her hands to cup her cheeks as her eyes flash with excitement. 

“No one,” you chuckle, shaking your head. 

“Tell me everything!” 

You get up, rolling your eyes at her excitement, “there’s nothing to tell, I’m just using the restroom,” you say as you step away from her.

“I still don’t believe you.” 

You only shake your head at her with a small chuckle before you walk away. Just as you’re about to walk into the hallway, the door opens and in walks Jason with his asshole friends, they are laughing about something and you already know what they are laughing about. 

Rolling your eyes and clenching your jaw in anger, you push past them and step into the hallway. You find Eddie standing by his locker, his back pressed against it. He sniffles as he holds his aching nose. His fingertips are painted red from the blood that is seeping out of his nose. 

You clench your fists in anger, contemplating going back to punch Jason and break his stupid nose but instead you focus on Eddie, making your way towards him. 

“Eddie?” 

His head snaps up at the sound of your voice, glassy eyes meet yours, they flicker with surprise when he finds you looking at him with soft eyes. 

You step closer to him, frowning at the state he is in. 

He stares at you with wide and curious eyes, blinking, his lips are parted in surprise. He looks confused. 

“You’re bleeding,” you mumble as you stop in front of him, eying him for a moment. You take his hand, pulling it away from his face, your eyes widen, “fucking Jason, I hate that guy.” 

Why is the popular cheerleader talking to him? 

His breath hitches in his throat when you press yourself against him to check for more wounds on his face. 

“I’m okay,” he whispers. 

Eddie can smell your sweet perfume, intoxicating. Your glossy lips are set in a pout when you raise your hand to touch his chest, “can I take care of you?” 

“W-What?” 

You chuckle at the expression on his face, his red cheeks and the dumbfounded look on his face. 

“Can I take care of you? Clean you up?” 

He blinks, raising his brows. 

What the fuck did he do to get you to even talk to him? 

You bat your eyelashes at him, giving him a small smile. 

“Is this some prank? Am I about to get jumped by your friends?” 

You frown at him, smile falling a little. Yeah, you might be mean and a bit of a bitch to certain people but you are not a bully and you would never do this to someone, let alone him. 

“No, I just wanna help.” 

He swallows nervously, slumping back against the lockers, he eyes you up and down, the way he always does. Eddie has never really talked to you but he holds the door open for you every chance he gets, giving you cocky smiles when you walk past him, he wasn’t exactly subtle when he would check you out but you liked it, your giggles gave it away. 

“Can I help?”

He licks his lips, staring at your soft exposed skin, your beautiful eyes, your lips that curl into a smile when you catch him checking you out, yet again. 

He almost forgets about the pain that Jason has caused him. 

He doesn’t have to answer your question, you know the answer already, you take his hand in yours, wrapping your fingers around his calloused ones. Leading him through the hallway, you make your way to the restroom. 

Eddie stares at you, ignoring the way his stomach flutters when he feels your much smaller hand in his. 

He looks down at your little cheer skirt, watching the way it moves softly, your hair bouncing. He clenches his jaw, gripping your hand tighter. 

He has dreamed of this way too many times. Getting you alone, flipping your skirt over your ass, pulling your hair as he fucks your tight little hole. He spent too many nights fisting his cock and fantasizing about fucking you in his little cheer uniform. 

Crushes never lasted long for Eddie and he wasn’t into any other cheerleaders but you? You were stuck in his mind, you nestled your way into his head, infesting him. You haven’t even touched him, you haven’t even talked to him and yet you were all he could think about. 

When you step into the restroom, you slam him against the wall, for a moment he thinks that you will kiss him but instead you turn back, leaning over the sink to reach for the paper towels. 

Eddie almost growls at the sight of your skirt moving up. He could just bend you over the sink and take you. God, he feels like a perv. You are being nice, trying to help him and he is here, having all these thoughts about you. 

You step in front of him again, brushing his curls back, you grab his jaw and bring the towel up to his face, cleaning the blood off gently. 

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, his eyes widen yet again when he feels your chest against his, your gentle hand on his face, your soft eyes. 

“You poor thing,” you whisper, “he got you good, huh?” 

Eddie blinks, “I-It’s not that bad.” 

You frown, shaking your head, “you’re bleeding.”

“I’ve had worse.” 

He fights the urge to grab your waist. 

Your lips look so kissable, so perfect. You are so very beautiful. 

“This is bad.” 

You’re bad, pressing yourself up against him, acting all innocent. He knows you know what kind of an effect you have on him. He knows you can feel his hardened cock against your lower stomach, you know that he wants you. 

“Can I cheer you up?” You ask as you throw the paper towel in the trash without turning away from him. You place one hand on his chest and the other in his hair, playing with his curly hair as you bat your eyelashes at him, “can I make you feel good, Eddie?” 

His heart starts racing, a shiver runs down his spine, “w-what?” He knows exactly what you mean but he has to hear you say it. 

“Can I cheer you up?” You repeat. 

“I– how?” 

A smirk tugs at your lips, “you know how,” you purr, sliding your hand down his chest and his stomach, your fingers graze the cuffs on his belt and he already whimpers, you haven’t even touched him yet and he is already whimpering for you. 

You place your hand over his clothed dick, palming him. 

“Oh, f-fuck.” 

“Can I suck your cock, Eddie?” You ask as you stand on your tippy toes, leaning closer and placing your lips on his jawline, “please?” 

“You want to suck my cock?” He asks in confusion, why would you want him? 

“I always wanted to suck your cock, pretty boy,” you giggle, watching the way his eyes widen and his cheeks flush red, “so… can I? I wanna make you feel good, I wanna take your pain," you say as you caress his cheek with your manicured fingernails.

He shivers, loving the feeling of you against him, touching him like this.

In what world would he ever say no to this or to you? He grabs your waist and walks you back, pushing you into the tiny stall, he locks the door behind him and turns around to look into your eager eyes, cupping your cheeks, he mumbles please. 

“Please what, Eddie?” You tease, eyes glinting with amusement. 

“Please suck my cock, sweetheart.” He whines, eyes staring back at you with neediness in them. 

You slam him against the wall, murmuring good boy as you latch your lips onto his neck. You could see the way he looked at your lips, the way he chased after them when you got close enough, he wanted to kiss you but you will save that for another time.

“You’re adorable, Eddie,” you giggle as you lean in to kiss his jaw again, hands reaching down to unbuckle his belt. 

Eddie is breathing heavily, his eyes are still wide, he is still in shock, feeling like this is nothing but a dream that he will wake up from any moment but no, you are here, eagerly sucking at the skin on his neck as you shove your hand into his pants. 

You moan against him, “I've thought of this so many times, Eddie.” 

He moans and gasps at the same time. 

You have dreamed of this? 

"I touch my needy pussy and think of your big cock inside of me."

Holy fuck.

“Fuck baby, can you show me?” he pants, tilting his head to give you more access to his neck. You lick and bite and suck on his sensitive skin, marking him up, giving him the hickeys that he always wanted from you. You giggle, the sound shooting straight to his heart. 

You giggle, "you wanna see how I touch myself?"

He nods eagerly. You clench your thighs together, sighing as you pull back to look at him, "maybe next time."

Please, don't let this be a dream, he thinks to himself.

“Yes, I– fuck… please.” 

You tease him with your hand, holding his cock in your much smaller hand and fuck, does it feel good, it feels so much better than his own hand. 

“P-Please,” he whimpers, “if you keep this up, I’m gonna cum in your hand.” 

You giggle again, pulling your hand out of his pants, you pull them down in one swift motion, licking your lips as you drop down to your knees, in front of him. The shocked expression on his face, the lustful gaze, the parted lips– god, he looks so fucking good. 

“You have such a pretty cock,” you say to him as you wrap your hand around him, pumping him a few times again, earning moans from him. Pre cum is already leaking out, rolling down his length. "So big... are you gonna fuck me sometime, Eddie?"

"Please, fuck yes, I wanna fuck you so bad, baby." He whines.

Your stomach flutters and you can feel yourself getting wet.

You kiss his tip, almost laughing at the gasp he lets out. You keep your eyes on him, staring at him through your lashes as you swirl your tongue around him a few times, watching his reaction closely. 

“Oh my– fuck.” 

You smirk. 

And finally you wrap your lips around him and take him into your mouth, fully. He hits the back of your throat, you bite back the gag, your eyes water but fuck, you love it. You continue to tease him with your tongue as you begin to bop your head. 

“H-Holy shit,” he gasps, panting above you as he stares down at you in awe. He reaches his hand down to grab your ponytail, pulling roughly. “Your mouth feels so fucking good,” he moans as he tries to stay still. 

“Mhmmm,” you moan around him, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him off. 

“Baby… baby,” he whimpers, “you’re taking my cock so well, fuck… you’re such a good girl.” 

His moans are loud, echoing through the restroom, he doesn’t even care if anyone is gonna walk in, all he cares about is you. 

"W-Who would've thought the pretty cheerleader is a little slut for me?"

You moan and whimper as though it brings you pleasure to suck him off, to choke on his big dick. You look up at him, there’s arrogance in your eyes but also adoration? What the fuck? What kind of gods have blessed him this day?

“You’re such a filthy slut, fuck.” He grunts as his dominance takes over, he grips your hair tighter, pulling out whimpers from you. 

His words make you whine, pressing your thighs tighter together. He wasn't supposed to make you feel like this.

Eddie stares at you in awe.

Who would’ve thought that this would ever happen? Maybe he should thank Jason for punching him, maybe he should let him do it again if that means that he would get you like this again. 

His words only make you moan even louder, sucking his dick more eagerly. You are desperate for him. 

“P-Please don’t stop.”

Your eyes are filled with tears, saliva is dripping down your chin and you are moaning like a bitch in heat. You love this just as much as he does. 

He bucks his hips into your mouth, gripping your head tightly causing you to choke around him. 

“Shit, I’m sorry–” he whimpers as you interrupt him by hollowing your cheeks tighter around him. Bringing your hand up to play with his balls. 

Eddie is in fucking heaven.

This is not a dream, this is very real. You’re here, on your knees, sucking his dick and worshiping him.

His throbbing dick twitches inside of your mouth, prompting you to get more desperate. 

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart,” he whimpers, trying to keep his eyes open because he wants to see you. 

Your eyelashes flutter and you look into his eyes eagerly. 

“Fuck…. fuck.” He grunts, “I’m– cumming.” 

Eddie cums hard. His vision blurs as he spills inside of your mouth. He feels as though you sucked the life out of him. Despite the dizziness, he manages to keep his eyes open, looking down at you, he watches you swallow his cum.

“Holy fuck,” he whines, “you’re so fucking hot.” 

You giggle, not bothering to wipe your mouth. You tuck him back in his boxers, helping him put his jeans back on, you fix his belt and get back on your feet. The shocked and fucked out expression on his face makes you giggle. 

He is speechless, staring at you in awe.

Eddie’s heart is still racing, his legs feel like jello. What have you done to him? 

You brush your fingers through his curls and wipe the sweat off his forehead, leaning in, you press a kiss to his cheek and smile at him. 

“If you ever need someone to cheer you up again, you know where to find me,” you wink, giving him pat on the cheek and one last kiss before you make your way out. 

Eddie doesn’t even manage to make a sound, let alone form a sentence, he just stares at you, watching you leave. 

Only as the door shuts, he comes back to his senses. Staring into blank space as he breathes heavily. A smile tugs at his lips. 

“Holy shit.” 

He thought that he was blessed that day, that it was just a taste of something he would never have again, not knowing that it was only the beginning of it all.

He didn't know that he would get you again, in open yet secret places.

He didn't know that it wasn't just him who wanted more but also you.

-

tagging some faves @littledemondani @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @mysticmunson @bimbobaggins69

[wolfiesmoon]

I can't sleep

Ran x good girl!reader

Do i want a bad boy (literal criminal) bf? Yea but i would probably cry if he insulted me or got into trouble in any capacity at all

(i am totally not unironically vibing to pretty little psycho while writing this)

edit: i made a part 2!!

"I dare you to kiss Haitani Ran." Your friend nudged you.

You knew you shouldn't have agreed to this stupid game of truth or dare. You knew your friend was going to make you do stupid stuff like this.

"Like... the big scary delinquent guy?" You asked, hoping you heard her wrong.

"Yeah, that Haitani Ran." Your friend smirked mischeviously.

"How about I don't do that?" The last thing you'd want to do is get involved wth any delinquents or gangs. You have no idea how dangerous Ran could be and even if he wasn't you'd still refuse to kiss a good for nothing delinquent.

"Are you trying to get me killed?" you followed up, realising just how bad this dare could end up.

"You do know that refusing this dare means that you have to do anything I say for a week, right?" Your friend had a horribly evil look on her face. You don't even want to know the things she would make you do if you refused this stupid dare.

But is kissing Ran any better? Pick your poison, you suppose.

"Fine, I'll do it." You said behind clenched teeth, not at all happy about this outcome. You've never even kissed before, and now you have to kiss freaking Ran Haitani. You might actually die.

Why did you agree? What is wrong with you?

This might just be the worst day of your life.

You ended up being a little unfocused in class, making your teacher worry.

.

"Haitani-san." you call out to him, your voice dying off slightly at the end due to nerves. You're the only ones left in the classroom, with your friend watching from behind the door to make sure you actually do it. He looks back at you and you feel a shiver run through you.

Oh my god, you're actually doing this.

He stops, waiting to see what you want with him. You move closer to him, and his eyes narrow slightly, as if he's getting a good look at you.

"Now, what could the class president herself possibly want with me?" his tone was slightly mocking and you would have showed him you're not to be messed with but honestly you'd probably be the one losing in that scenario.

You inhaled sharply, pulling him down by his braids and planting a kiss straight onto his lips. This feels like a bad shojo plot, the "good girl" falls in love with the "bad boy" and kisses him all of a sudden. Except there's no romance involved here. Just a dare.

Is this how you kiss? Why does it feel so strange? That should be enough, right? You can feel your parents shaking their heads dissaprovingly already.

Ok, now you're just kissing him for way too long. It's time to let go. And you try to, you really do. Since when were his arms wrapped around your waist, anyways? And why isn't he letting you go?!

You can feel your friend's evil stare burning into your back. This is not amusing!

He laughed a little into the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer. Oh, so they're both going to enjoy your suffering now, you see how it is.

Still, kissing him isn't half ba-

Ok, you're actually losing it. You need out and fast.

You wriggled out of his grasp, running away as fast as your legs could take you. You heard both Ran and your friend yell something behind you but you honestly don't care.

Why did you ever agree to do this?!

.

That same thought persisted even as you tossed and turned in bed that night.

"Oh god, he's going to send his goons after me and I'm gonna die... And then I won't ever get to become successful..." you muttered to yourself.

"Or maybe he's gonna come and kill me myself after school tommorow... Ugh..." you can't come to school tired, you won't be able to pay attention in class that way. You can't ruin your perfect record by falling asleep in class.

Who cares about the perfect record?! You should be worried for your life!

"And what is that stupid noise, anyways?" you muttered, grumbling and getting up to inspect the source. Another stone hits the window, making you jump slightly. You walk to the window and open it, narrowly avoiding a stone that was thrown your way.

"Sorry!~"

Wait. You'd recognise that voice anywhere.

It's Ran.

"What are you doing here? How did you even get my adress?" you half yelled, not wanting to wake up your parents.

"You shouldn't sweat the little things. Come downstairs." he was smiling calmly, but you still couldn't tell if he was threatening you. Actually, is that his motorcycle parked next to him?

"You should probably put on a jacket too. It's real cold." he added on, and you nervously closed the window, quietly sneaking downstairs and putting on a jacket. Your pyjamas are not the most presentable, but you really don't want to test his patience right now.

You met him outside. What is he going to do to you now?

"Get on." he pointed to his bike, catching you off guard.

"Not without a helmet, riding a motorcycle without one can be really dangerous and you could lose your life." you couldn't help but bring up safety regulations. It's in your nature.

"I told you, don't sweat the details and just sit down." he completely ignored you, pushing you in the direction of the bike. You complied, sitting down on it awkwardly, not sure what to expect. He doesn't seem violent...

He sat down behind you, revving up the engine and just driving off without a care in the world.

"W-Wait!" you were shocked at the speed, grabbing onto him by instinct and missing the way his lips curved up at that.

"Where are you taking me?! I never consented to this!" you had to yell over the sound of the engine, shutting your eyes. He was right, it really is cold when you're riding on a motorcycle.

"And you know what I didn't consent to? That kiss." he replied and your face scrunched up a little, cringing at the not so distant memory. "But that's fine, because that means you're mine now."

"Huh?!" you finally opened your eyes, looking up at him. His expression was a little hard to make out since the only thing illuminating it was street lights that you were speeding past. Is he even following the speed limit?

"I value my sleep, you see. And that little stunt you pulled made me unable to fall asleep. So I figured I might as well give you a little visit." he placed a hand over you protectively, making you worry about your safety even more.

"Who would have thought the top of the class good girl would fall for me?" he looked down at you.

"I did not fall in love with you! It was a dare!" you shot back.

"Oh well, doesn't matter. You're my girl now. And that's that."

[mooki3-bear]

I Need You (Paige Bueckers x black!fem!reader)

Summary: You and Paige go through a rough patch, you only see one solution

Warnings: Just a lot of cursing

word count: 1346

I was tired. I was tired of the constant arguing, silent treatments, and petty comments. The most tiring thing of them all was trying to keep up the picture of a happy couple when I knew we were the complete opposite at the moment. 

I woke up around eight in the morning, feeling around the bed for Paige’s warmth. When I was met with a cold part of the bed, the memories from the night before came rushing back. The screaming, the insults, and the words that could never be taken back. Which then led to Paige sleeping on the couch. We have had some pretty bad arguments, but this one definitely takes the cake. I rubbed my burning eyes, which were dry from the tears, and made my way out of our room to the kitchen. As soon as I opened the door, I was met with Paige, making coffee in the kitchen. Our eyes met, but we didn't say a word to each other. I hesitantly made my way to the kitchen island and took the coffee that she slid in front of me. We sat in an uncomfortable silence, which was considered normal at this point, waiting for the other to say something. Anything.

 As we sat there I wondered to myself. I wondered how everything went to shit after a beautiful three-year relationship. I wondered how such a loving apartment that felt like home soon turned into a place you dreaded waking up in. I wondered if I had the opportunity to go back in time, what I would have to do to prevent all of this from happening. 

With a deep breath, the first word in five minutes is spoken. “Paige…we need to talk” I say with a shaky breath. Paige’s head shoots up, her eyes filled with concern. “All we’ve been doing for the last month is arguing. It’s literally draining the life out of me” I say as I move my coffee away to make sure I am more focused on the conversation. “I know. I'm sorry but I've just been stressed, babe. You can’t get mad at me for being stressed” Paige scoffs and turns away. “Did I fucking say I was mad at you for being stressed, Paige? No, I didn't! So don’t put-” I take a deep breath, not wanting to start another draining argument between us. Paige noticed that I was more frustrated than usual. “Look, I'm sorry. Can we just lie down and watch a movie? I just wanna forget last night happened” Paige suggests as she takes my hand in her’s. This is the bullshit that makes me so mad. I don’t want to ignore the issue. That's all she ever wants to do.

“No, Paige. We have to talk. We can’t keep ignoring this. If we ignore it all the time it just gets worse and worse” I stand up and walk around the small space of our apartment. “I don’t feel like talking about it. I just wanna sleep and lay with you. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable” Paige laughs, trying to soften the mood. “I understand Paige. However, what happened last night was just…it was a lot” I sigh, rubbing my hand through my tight coils. “ Oh my god. Are you seriously still upset about that? I told you about eighteen times you have nothing to be jealous of” Paige's voice gets louder, as she remembers how ridiculous she felt the conversation was. “You constantly telling me ‘Don’t worry about it’ and ‘You're overreacting’ doesn’t ease my fucking nerves, babe. It makes me feel like I'm delusional and I know I'm not” I say, becoming more and more frustrated with every word that leaves my mouth.  “I never said the you were delusional, babe! I’m telling you that you have nothing to worry about. If you don’t believe me I don’t know what to tell you. What do you want me to do” Paige rubs her hands over her face as she makes her way over to the couch. 

“I don’t know Paige! I honestly don’t know but you don’t understand. The way you say these things makes me feel…like I'm this weird insecure girlfriend who needs you to coddle her all the time” I say walking over to stand in front of her. She slightly, but noticeably rolls her eyes. I scoff and walk into the bedroom, just needing to get away from her. To my misfortune, she follows me. “Baby! I am trying my best to figure out what you want. You're acting fucking weird and I don’t know what you want” Paige exclaims. I stood and looked at her for a while….what did I want? 

Why were we always having these useless arguments that felt like they were going nowhere? Was I trying to prove something? Were we trying to keep something alive that just wasn’t there anymore? What the fuck was going on.

“Hello? Seriously what is going on with you” Paige asks as she annoyingly waves a hand in front of your face. “Paige” I pause, not exactly sure what to say. “I think we need to take a break” Tears finally fall from my eyes. Paige’s entire demeanor changes, shock filling her body. “What the fuck are you talking about” Paige asks with a shaky voice. “I just feel like we should take a break…this relationship needs a break” I walk over to the closet, packing a bag full of enough clothes until I can get the rest of mine. “Why would we need to take a break Y/n? Because we had a few arguments? That makes no sense” She exclaims, following me into the closet. “Paige! We have been constantly fighting for a fucking month now! Im fucking tired” I yell while clapping my hands, hoping to get my point across. Paige’s eyes fill with tears, both of us motionless. It felt like someone had just stabbed me in the heart.

 I would never in a million years have guessed that I would be packing my clothes to take a break from the love of my life. Paige all of a sudden takes my hand in hers, staring into what felt like my soul. “Y/n…please. Don’t leave. I'm sorry” Tears fall down the blonde's face as I drop my duffle bag to the floor for a split second. Every bone in my body was telling you to stay, to forget everything that had happened. They were telling me to just sit on the couch like I usually would and brace for the next argument that would ring throughout the apartment. However, my heart was telling me that you needed time apart so that we could get better. 

I take the girl's face in my hands, looking into her beautiful blue eyes. “It’s not forever Paige. I promise,” I say, trying to keep a strong face on. “But we need some time apart so that we can get better…I need you to understand” I whisper. Paige is hesitant but nods her head. I finally let out a shaky breath as she sniffles and leaves the room. As she closes the door I let out another shaky breath that turns into a sob. 

As I calm myself down I finish packing my bag with enough clothes to keep me through the “break”. Once I finished, I walked out into the living room to see Paige curled up on the couch, eyes red from her tears. With a shaky breath, I walk over to her, giving her a passionate kiss before making my way to the door. With my hand on the handle, I hesitate, turning to Paige to look at her for the last time in a while. “I love you, P,” I say, with a smile and salty tears falling down my face. “I love you too, Beautiful” Paige sniffles and laughs. With those last words being said, I close the door to our apartment, ready to see what life has in store for me until I see her next. 

This was my first REALLY long fic! I hope yall enjoyed and I MIGHT make a part two cuz I hate when some angst don't have a happy ending <3

[snowyslytherinowl]

Mini Me, Kitty Me

PAIRING: Severus Snape x Reader

SUMMARY: You take home a stray cat, much to Severus's displeasure. But Severus and the cat soon get along, probably because the cat is a little like Severus.

*GIF isn't mine; credit to @smilingformoney

“No! I will not hear any sort of protest from you! This decision is final! I am keeping Pepper!” you shout at Severus. 

Dear Merlin, he loves your stubbornness and strong will unless your stubbornness and strong will are directed against him. To make your point even more clear, you storm out of the room and leave him alone with the cat. 

Severus’s stare burns into the cat, or “Pepper” as you affectionately call him, sitting on the floor. He’s black and has small, tired-looking eyes. How could you ever find this scruffy, scrawny little cat “the most adorable little angel known to wizardkind?” And how could you ever insist on taking this stray cat home?  

As if to challenge the dominance that Severus is trying to assert, the cat’s yellow eyes glare back at him. The hard look he’s giving him reminds him of Minerva leering at him from a corner when she’s in her animagus form. Severus jerks forward so that Pepper is only one step away from him. Pepper hisses at him and scurries out of the room to wherever you are. Finally, some peace and quiet. 

Later that night, Severus tries to relax with you on the couch. You usually lean your head on his shoulder as he reads a book to you, but not tonight. Just as your cheek brushes against his shoulder, Pepper jumps directly onto your lap and snuggles into you. 

“Aw, sweet little Pepper. Do you like cuddling with mom?” you ask in a voice typically used for toddlers. Severus rolls his eyes as Pepper meows back, indicating that he does indeed love spending time with you. 

“Get that wretched deformed tiger off our couch,” Severus grunts at you. 

You ignore him as you stroke Pepper’s fur and sweetly say to him, “Dad doesn’t like you now, but I promise he will soon. He was moody when I first met him, just like you hissed at me when I saw you next to Honeydukes. But eventually, both of you grew fond of me.” 

Severus scowls as you compare him to the cat. “I am nothing like him. He is unwilling to be friendly and he is nothing short of hideous.” 

Both you and Pepper turn to glare at him. “He is loveable and he is not hideous! Just let him get used to you and he’ll give you kisses!” 

Slowly, Severus’s face turns red. “I want you to give me kisses, not the cat!”

“You’re not getting any kisses if you continue to insult my Pepper!” you yell at him. You take Pepper into your arms, stand up, and slam the door as you exit. All Severus can do is huff with frustration. 

Over the next week, Severus and Pepper are forced to be alone in the house together whenever you go shopping or peruse the streets of the nearby village. In some ways, your absence is for the better since Severus and Pepper aren’t forced to be in the same room together. 

As usual, Severus is brewing potions in the wee hours of the morning when the door cracks open. The crack is a little too small for you to fit through, so Severus doesn’t need to look down to know that Pepper has snuck into his “mini dungeon,” as you like to call it. Pepper meows softly as he jumps onto the stool that Severus was sitting on just seconds ago. 

“Shoo, you wretched cat!” Severus swats at Pepper, but he merely hisses in response. Swiftly, Severus lunges at the cat and seizes him with his arms. He rolls his eyes as Pepper thrashes against his hold. The deformed tiger clearly is not smart enough to bear its claws, Severus thinks. Severus drops him on the floor outside his mini dungeon, and Pepper falls onto the wooden surface with a plop. 

Several peaceful minutes cutting roots and organizing jars pass before insistent scratching sounds from the door. Severus does his best to ignore the sound until he realizes that he’s allowing Pepper to create scratch marks on the door. He grumbles loudly as he flicks the door open with his wand. As Pepper struts in, Severus demands from the cat, “What do you want? It is to my understanding that you want nothing to do with me.”

Pepper meows softly as he jumps onto the table in the center of the room and strolls through the maze of mini cauldrons and jars.  He stops at the diced Observant Olives on a cutting board and pokes at it with his paw before hunching down to sniff it.

“If you break anything, I will throw you out of the house and tell my wife that you ran away,” Severus threatens as he watches Pepper explore his mini dungeon. Nonetheless, he turns back to his cauldron to continue stirring it clockwise since the allotted time for simmering has already passed. He isn’t going to ruin his potion just because of the wretched cat. 

Laying down on the counter directly beside Severus, Pepper lazily licks his fur and purrs. Severus watches him from the corner of his eye for a moment before poking the cat in the chest. Unbothered, Pepper simply rocks back once and looks his “dad” in the eye. “You remind me of Minerva,” Severus comments to the cat before he gets back to work. 

An hour passes by in which Severus suspiciously watches Pepper groom himself from the corner of his eye. A devious little voice inside Severus’s head tells him that perhaps this cat is a little cute. As if to reflect his thoughts, Pepper comes down from the counter and rests at Severus’s feet, softly purring.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Pepper jumps and hisses aggressively. Severus is about to yell at him and retract his thoughts about the cat being cute when he notices that Pepper is bolting after a rat. It seems like not even a second passes as Pepper pounces on the rat and grasps it with his mouth. He presents the rat to Severus, looking up at him with bright yellow eyes. 

“I suppose a thanks is in order,” Severus says as he takes the rat from Pepper’s mouth. He holds it by the tail with his thumb and forefinger and scrunches his face in disgust. “I do not like gutting rats for their spleens, but this will save me a galleon or two.”

Pepper purrs in response and settles in Severus’s lap. His instinct is to jerk the cat off; though when notices that the cat is gazing up at him, he realizes that maybe he’s not so bad. So Severus allows Pepper to snuggle into his lap as he cuts ingredients to place in storage. Occasionally, he even pets Pepper. His fur is a little greasy but a lot softer than expected.

“I see you two are getting along now.” Severus jumps in his seat, his hand still on Pepper’s fur, as he sees you standing in the doorframe. Pepper also jumps in surprise but remains on the lap of his “dad.”

Your smug smile bothers Severus. It’s clear that you’re holding back laughter as you bite down on your lower lip. With all the aggression he can muster, Severus sneers at you, “We are not friends.”

That finally does it for you; you burst out laughing. Severus glares at you as you reach him and rest your arms on his shoulders. “Tell yourself whatever you want. But how about you both join me in bed?”

“Fine,” Severus grunts. He carries Pepper into your shared bedroom and places him at the foot of the bed. Yawning, Severus realizes that this is the perfect time to head to bed. He holds his arm out as you snuggle into him and fall fast asleep. Seconds after you and Severus doze off, Pepper crawls over and settles himself between the two of you, deeming Severus’s chest a wonderful pillow to rest on.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Doggitude

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x teacher!fem!reader (+ Kojo!)

Summary: After Tim takes his bad day out on you, you leave. Kojo misses you and does everything he can to see you again.

Warnings: angst, argument, Tim insults/belittles reader and her job, fluffy ending! KOJO!!

Word Count: 2.8k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Tim loves you, and loves his job, but sometimes those sides of him are at odds. You are happy, bubbly, a ray of sunshine in a dark world, whereas his job shows him only the dark. Each side of Tim impacts the others; a good day with you leads into a good day at work, and a bad day at work is occasionally taken out on you.

Tim knows he isn’t a great boyfriend, and he can be abrasive and use you as an emotional outlet when things aren’t going well. He tries, he really does, but some bad days make being a good person seem impossible.

This week, Tim has worked several shifts back-to-back and is in a terrible mood when his shift finally ends. He’s ready to get home, but he just wants to enjoy some quiet and go to sleep, so he decides not to call you. Even as he sees your picture on his phone screen, he finds your smile a bit too bright. You’re different than him, and Tim usually loves that, but at the end of three consecutive bad days, Tim wants to stew in his anger rather than see something bright, like looking into the sun after extended time in a cave.

✯✯✯✯✯

You’ve been spending time at Tim’s house while he’s been at work. Every minute with Kojo in the otherwise empty house has made you miss Tim even more. Your kindergarten class has been rowdy all week, but you refuse to let them dampen your mood. Excited at the idea of Tim finally coming home tonight, you sit with Kojo and wait, reviewing lesson plans and report cards in your spare time.

✯✯✯✯✯

Kojo looks up from your lap when the front door opens, and you smile brightly when Tim enters. He doesn’t notice you as he drops his bag and sighs.

“Hey,” you greet. “We missed you this week.”

Tim clenches his jaw as he turns to face you. “Have you been here every night this week?”

Nodding, you explain, “I wanted to see you, but I also needed to take care of Kojo.” 

He remains silent, his eyes focused on something behind you.

“Are you okay? I know it’s been a long week, but-“

“You don’t know,” Tim says, cutting you off. “You will never understand what a long week really is.”

“Tim, I-“

“No,” Tim snaps, stepping back as he shrugs sarcastically. “You do not understand what it is like for me. Your job is nothing; your long week is because a kid wets his pants, mine is because one of my own gets shot or I lose a suspect, and someone gets hurt because of it. In the grand scheme of things, your job doesn’t matter because people still become criminals and ruin lives like mine!”

Tim’s chest is heaving with anger, every little thing he had to deal with this week weighing on him while he takes it out on you. You bite down on your bottom lip as he continues hurting you, attacking you and the thing you love to make himself feel better.

“You’re angry and tired,” you begin, your smile long gone. “So, I’m going to go-“

“Don’t talk to me like I am one of students. You can barely control them, so don’t try to placate me. I have dealt with criminals who do more work than you.”

A tear rolls over your cheek, and you wipe it away harshly.

“Then go yell at them, since that seems to be what you do to the people you claim to care about,” you reply, grabbing your things.

“Don’t leave.” Tim rolls his eyes as he says it, like you’re overreacting.

“I didn’t want to, but you clearly do. I hope you feel better in the morning, Tim.”

The door slams behind you, and Tim runs his hand over his hair, pinching the tight muscle at the back of his neck. Kojo jumps from the chair where he was sitting beside you, rushing to the closed door and whimpering. He looks back at Tim, whining as he raises his paw toward the door. 

“I messed up, didn’t I, Kojo?” Tim asks.

Kojo whines again, a clear ‘yes.’ Kojo has loved you since the moment he met you, and Tim even refers to you as 'Kojo’s mom.' Tim pulls his phone from his pocket, dialing your number. He gets no answer, and Tim can’t blame you, but he also knows better than to chase you. He texts you and puts his phone away, calling Kojo to follow him to bed. Kojo stays at the door, lying down and watching the doorknob. 

“Sorry, buddy,” Tim says, leaving his bedroom door open in case Kojo forgives him in the night.

✯✯✯✯✯

Once you are safely in your apartment, you let yourself cry, Tim’s words on a loop in your mind. Your phone rings again, and you see Tim’s name with yet another message. Turning the ringer off, you push your phone away from you and curl up in the middle of your bed, crying rather than sleeping.

Tim has been emotional coming home from work before, saying something you didn’t deserve. He’s never taken it this far or made it about you personally before tonight. His comments about your job had to have come from somewhere, maybe something he’s been hiding. You don’t believe him; you know what you do is important, but Tim hurt you, and you’re not sure it will ever stop hurting.

When the sun appears on the horizon, you call in sick from work, prepared for a long weekend alone. Part of you wants to know if Tim is feeling better today, but then you remember what he did, giving you a bad day in his attempt to minimize his own.

“I miss Kojo,” you whisper, crying again as you remember that it’s not only Tim you’re losing.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Kojo?” Tim calls, growing more worried with each empty room.

Behind the kitchen island, Kojo is sitting and shaking with his head down. Tim kneels before him and lays a gentle hand on his back. Kojo begins whining, a different sound than his reaction to you leaving last night.

“What’s the matter, Kojo?” Tim whispers.

Kojo shakes harder, sliding his front paws out so he’s lying flat on the floor. Tim searches for a nearby vet hospital before picking Kojo up and carrying him outside. Once Kojo is in his truck, Tim drives to the vet hospital. Kojo’s whining turns to short barks as he carries him inside. The vet takes one look at Kojo shaking and leads Tim into an examination room. After checking Kojo's vitals quickly, the vet sets her equipment down and chuckles.

“Mr.?” she begins.

“Bradford. And that’s Kojo.”

“Mr. Bradford, Kojo is faking. There’s nothing wrong with him.”

“He’s- he’s fine?”

“Yes, he is. Dogs sometimes do this when they want attention or after something changes, in an attempt to get it back. Has something like that happened recently?”

Tim looks at Kojo and nods. 

“Someone will be in shortly with the paperwork. I’m glad Kojo is healthy. Have a nice day, Bradfords.”

As the door closes, Tim asks, “Wasn’t that a bit dramatic? Did you think I’d call her, and she’d answer for you?”

Kojo looks up and grunts at Tim. Someone knocks before handing Tim the bill and telling him he’s free to go. Tim looks down at the bill and releases a deep exhale. He should be upset with Kojo, but he probably deserves a lot worse for what he did to you.

“She really won’t come back now, Kojo. You spent all my money,” Tim mutters.

Kojo grunts again as Tim clips a leash to his collar. He refuses to look at Tim, upset that he was taken to the vet rather than your side.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim hasn’t texted in a few hours. He either realized you weren’t going to answer or decided he didn’t want to talk. You haven’t read the messages or played the voicemails, too hurt to communicate with Tim in any way. Reading his words or hearing his voice will make you cry harder, and you’re already nearly cried out.

Looking at a framed picture of Kojo, you wish things had been different, wondering if one little choice would have made things end differently. You didn’t sleep last night, and you’re sure you won’t sleep again tonight, too busy crying and mourning the loss of the most important boys in your life. As the sun sets, you begin sobbing, holding the picture of Kojo to your chest as you hear Tim’s angry words in your mind again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Kojo won’t come near Tim, content to sit by the door. When Tim moves, Kojo grunts, turning away. The doorbell rings, and Kojo steps back, watching Tim as he answers it. Signing for a package, Tim ignores Kojo’s growling.

“I can’t make her forgive me, pal,” Tim tells Kojo after he closes the door.

Kojo trots away, turning into the guest room to sleep. Tim sits on the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose as he realizes he has two problems that must be solved. He hurt you, and worse, he hurt you intentionally, and now he has a dog that misses you and blames him. Tim understands why you are ignoring him and why Kojo is upset, too. Reaching for his phone, he texts you again, but the dozens of unanswered texts above the newest make him refrain from calling you.

✯✯✯✯✯

After managing to get an hour and a half of sleep, you hope the third night without Tim will be easier. When you hear a dog barking outside your window and a man talking kindly to the dog as if it will respond, you realize that tonight will likely be the worst. Tim and Kojo do that, have their own language, and you were part of their world for a brief, brilliant moment. And then it was snatched away from you, breaking your heart and hurting your mind in the process.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You have to go outside eventually, Kojo,” Tim says with his arms crossed over his chest and Kojo’s leash hanging from his hand.

Kojo grunts, looks toward the door, and slowly approaches Tim. On the walk, Kojo pulls harder than usual, not listening to Tim when he gives him commands.

“When is this dog-gitude going to pass, Kojo?” Tim asks. “Because there’s nothing we can do.”

Tim doesn’t realize how close he is to your apartment when he enters the dog park. Kojo runs back and forth across the park a few times, glad to stretch his legs after avoiding Tim in the house for a few days. When he stops suddenly, looking at Tim as his back legs drop, preparing to run, Tim knows he can’t stop him.

“Kojo, no!” Tim yells.

Kojo, of course, doesn’t listen. He runs past Tim, out of the dog park, and down the sidewalk as fast as possible. Tim follows behind, pushing himself past his limit to catch Kojo. When he sees the lights of a familiar apartment complex, he realizes that Kojo is finding you.

“Kojo!” Tim calls again, slowing as he begins up the stairs.

✯✯✯✯✯

A dog barks at your door, and for a moment, you think you are imagining Kojo’s presence. When claws scratch against the wood, you open the door slowly. Kojo pushes past you, circling your legs happily. You sink to the floor, wrapping your arms around Kojo. Unaware that you are still crying, you’re surprised when Kojo begins licking your chin, attempting to dry your tears.

Footsteps echo in the stairwell, and when Tim appears in your doorway, panting and pressing one hand to the doorjamb to stay upright, you turn toward him instinctually. Kojo grunts, moving in front of you, blocking Tim.

Tim sees your tears and bloodshot eyes and can’t stop himself from stepping inside. He closes the door and squats, keeping his eyes on you as he lowers to look in your eyes over Kojo’s head.

“Did you read my messages?” he asks softly.

You shake your head, and he nods before leaning back as he sits against the door.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Shaking your head again, you pull Kojo back into your arms and cling to him.

“I’m going to tell you want my messages said, but if you want me to stop I will,” Tim begins. “I never should have said those things about your job, because they were wrong. Teaching is important, and the kind of teaching you do is far more important than what I do. You give kids a chance to be the best they can be, and I have to find the bad people and make them pay for it. You already know that I had a long week, a bad one, too, and I took that out on you. I can’t say much more than I am sorry; I’m so sorry that I talked to you like that. You are the only good part of a life surrounded by grief. I- I wouldn’t forgive me.”

“Why?” you ask against Kojo. “Why did you say those things?”

“You- you’re bright, sunny, happy… all the time.”

“I thought you liked that about me.”

“I love that about you. But, after the week I had, it was just hard to turn away from the hard parts of the job and see pure light.”

“So, you don’t want to come back to-“

“Don’t finish that. This has nothing to do with you. This was all me, trying to deal with a bad week and making it far worse. Hurting you in the process was not my intention, and I can never make up for that.”

You hug Kojo tightly, thinking about what Tim said. Having two completely different life elements like that can’t be easy. If it’s not about him not wanting to come home to you, you’re not sure how to avoid the same thing in the future.

“I’m sorry,” Tim repeats. “And, if you give me a second chance, I will show you that I can separate the two. Bringing a bad day home to you, hurting you, is not an option and I never should have lost sight of that… I’ve missed you.”

“I missed Kojo.”

“Yeah, Kojo missed you too,” Tim replies with a dramatic raise of his brows. “Cost me nearly $1,000 trying to see you again.”

“How?” you ask, looking up at Tim again.

He softens when your eyes meet his. “He pretended to be sick trying to get you to come back, but I just took him to the vet. Emergency visits are expensive, even if there is no reason for it.”

“Did- did you follow him here?”

“Yeah. He ran from the dog park and came straight here.”

“Would you have come here if he hadn’t led you, or would you have just moved on after I stopped answering the phone?”

Tim slides closer until Kojo is the only thing separating him from you. “I would have come. I would have gotten on my knees and begged to apologize.”

“Just to apologize?”

“I can’t force you to forgive me or give me another chance, just tell you that I’m sorry and I miss you like crazy.”

“Well, I missed you like Kojo missed me,” you say quietly.

“That much?”

“I haven’t slept in three nights, so, yeah,” you answer with a chuckle.

Tim raises his hand to your face, placing his fingers under your jaw as his thumb moves gently across your cheek.

“I forgive you,” you whisper, leaning into his touch. “Just promise to talk to me, rather than take it out at me next time you have a bad day?”

“I promise,” Tim replies. “Kojo, move.”

Kojo grunts, moving closer to you.

“Kojo,” you say, smiling when he moves to your side, watching you closely for any sign of hurt.

“He likes you more than me. His mom left and nothing could make it better.”

“Has he been eating? Because I have some of his food here-“

Tim cuts you off, kissing you softly as his hand moves to the back of your neck. He moves slowly, communicating his love and his apology in his movements.

“Can we get off the floor?” you ask.

“Only if Kojo and I can stay for a while.”

“You can stay forever.”

Tim pulls you into his lap, smiling when you grab his shoulders in surprise. He kisses your jaw as he stands, pulling you up and moving to your couch.

“I’m sorry you had a bad week,” you say, patting for Kojo to join you.

“Why are you like this?” Tim replies.

“Because I’m sunny, and bright, and all things happy.”

“Lucky me,” Tim hums.

[chuuyasheaven]

RAAAAAAAAH idk if this counts as an ask but this specific scenario has been marinating in my mind for WEEKS and i think you might enjoy it :3c

to put it shortly ive been thinking of hot-headed reader who has trouble containing their temper (im not projecting whar do you mean) x chuuya (established relationship) that goes from angst to smut…. teehee

basically chuuya and reader begin arguing bc i hc that EVEN THOUGH CHUUYA IS EXTREMELY LOYAL AND DOTING TO THE ONES HE CARES ABOUT…. his temper often gets the best of him. Recently, chuuya had been very busy, and reader knew that, and continuously made an effort to help him in whatever ways they could, be it making dinner/lunch for him, offering to help with paperwork, etc. BUT thing is.. chuuya isn't really noticing this and treats them like a nuisance. He hasn't said anything outright insulting or upsetting, but he treats reader so differently, like he's silently blaming reader for his own temper and mood. He doesn't even call them by their nickname/petname anymore, everything feels so distant now.

So in an attempt to yk, NOT give up on their relationship, reader decides to confront chuuya about this in a calm manner, but he blindly lashes out and reader is NOT having ANY of it… cue a petty back and forth between him and reader, and reader gets out of the house to cool off and meanwhile chuuya finally comes to his senses. He tries to reason with reader when they come back, but they end up doing exactly what chuuya did to them, dismissing him and not accepting any form of half-assed apology. and so,,,,,, chuuya tries to make it up to reader,,,, if ikwym :3c

cue chuuya eating out reader like his life depends on it /jjj ((THIS IS SO LONG LMAO IM LITERALLY SOSORRY))

"You're not getting tired of me, are you?" // C. Nakahara

Summary. Recently, Chuuya has been kinda distant lately, mostly due to his work. This also resulted into you mostly overthinking— what if he isn't at the office all the time just like says? With this thought at the back of your mind, you tried to make an effort to be nice and caring as possible, only for Chuuya to decline the food you make him, denying any help you offer and barely spending time, which made the thoughts even more scary. When you can't take it anymore, you snap, at first he didn't get what your problem was until he thought about your earlier attempts. Now driven with guilt, Chuuya wants to assure you're the most important thing to him and makes up for his actions in the process.

Tags. Chuuya N. / afab! Reader, the summary pretty much already tells the story, angst to smut to fluff maybe, miscommunication, Reader prolly has anxiety, swearing, ooc! Chuuya, suspicions of cheating, Chuuya didn't notice at first but it's okay he'll make it up by licking pussy ^_^, might be cringe, short too idk, Reader might be KINDAAA based off me, petnames (baby, doll, darlin', sweetheart), oral sex (afab! receiving), praising, overstimulation? , p in v, who knows maybe i fucked up the ask and wrote smth else, for the first time ever porn WITH plot, might have a rushed end, might contain grammar errors, etc.

"Hey, Chuuya, wanna eat? I made your favorite!", you said with a nervous tone painted in your voice, which Chuuya didn't really notice. "No, baby, I can't. Sorry, maybe next time?", he answered without even exchanging looks with you, just doing his paperwork as if it was more important to him. It's been like this for several days already and you did nothing but trying to help Chuuya to make things easier, but he didn't budge. You slowly started to get annoyed and just walked away to eat by yourself, silently.

With all kind of negative thoughts which caused you to overthink. These "thoughts" didn't leave you alone since he's become more distant. What if he's losing interest? What if he's not always late in the office? Am I annoying him and a burden? After you finished eating, you just put his plate into the fridge and sat alone in your living room. Some while later, Chuuya came to see you for a few minutes before returning to work. He tired hugging you but you rejected it. Confused, he looks at you before asking. "What's wrong, doll?", did he seriously just ask you that? After pushing away for the— what? The millionth time for his work? At this innocent question you snapped, well, not really but you were beyond pissed.

When Chuuya told you that he was probably busy for the next days, you understood, at first. Knowing Chuuya, he could make some time for you in between, right? He was your really loyal, sweet and loving boyfriend, caring was he too, of course Chuuya should be able to make atleast a little time. And to his credit, he did, at first. He took breaks in which he spent time with you, cooking your food with you, and also other activities you guys normally do. But with time, Chuuya got more and more work and spent less and less time with you. You also understood at first, and trying to be a good girlfriend, you tried to take some work off his back by doing some paperwork with him, only to deny you. Don't get Chuuya wrong, he appreciated it, but he'd rather do it himself. You understood, leaving him be, but then he started to work late, staying behind in the office. That's when you started to overthink a little. You really didn't want to let you thoughts get to you, Chuuya is loyal and so loving he would never, right? Why was he even staying so late in the first place? Was it because you constantly asked him to help to the point he wanted to work in the office at work? These thoughts would slowly consume you later on, and instead of speaking with Chuuya about it, you kept it to yourself, you didn't want to annoy him anyways. It's been 3 days later and he didn't even say a single word to you, just work, work, work. Were you even Chuuya's top priority at this point? You just let him distance himself, in hope of him noticing your presence. All this did was make the situation worse, to the point where you cried yourself to sleep at night feeling unwanted. Did Chuuya finally notice? No, his head is still drowned in paperwork. "Chuuya, do you have time right now?" — "No. Go do something else, doll, I still have work left." His tone had some harshness to it, a hint of annoyance too. But maybe it was because of the stress because of work. "I could help him maybe.", you told yourself, you don't want him to overwork himself, has he even eaten today? "Well, maybe I could help with the paper—" — "You can't, so please go. I still have a lot left." — "But I could—" — "Just go, I'm busy. I can't really talk with you 'cause you're gonna distract me." What a reason, but you can't let him push you away now, can you? "Chuuya, please, I just wanna help you—" — "Just leave me the hell alone and do something else. Look, I love you for trying, I don't need your help the only this you're doing right now is distracting me." "If you say so." Was all you said before leaving his home office without saying another word.

That was the last time you talked to him during these days, but today, was the day you finally snapped at him for pushing you away all these days. And for what did he push you away? For trying to be nice and take some shit off his back? "What's wrong?! What's wrong is that you pushed me away for— what? A week and a half?!", you explained with anger behind your voice, which Chuuya wasn't familiar with. "Doll, I didn't push you away—", before he could speak you went on. "Stop with the bullshit. Whenever I tried helping with anything you always denied me! I can't do this anymore.", you said with a crack in your voice, now Chuuya slowly got pissed too, was it his fault for having an asshole of a boss?

"Do you think I want to do this? Who in the hell would participate in such work as a fucking joke?!", he said rather louder than you. "Your damn work seems to be more important that me, when was the last time you looked me in my face?", you stood up from the couch. "You wouldn't even know what to do!", "I could've if you took some fucking time to explain!", you shouted back, this is where Chuuya might have lost his temper. "Why the hell should I? You won't even understand when I tell you to leave! I'm sorry if the world doesn't fucking revolve around you, some people have other priorities?!", his voice got angrier and louder.

"Appearently I'm not your first priority, which is what I'm supposed to be?! I just wanted to spend time with you, but if I'm so fucking 'distracting' then I'll leave!", "Oh, so now you can take a damn hint?", he called after you tried to walk away. "What?", you stopped and turned around to face him. "Fuck you, then. I'm done, go do your work which is more important to me! All I was doing was to try—", "I don't give a fuck if you were "trying" shit! Just fucking don't because it won't matter anyway all you're being is annoying and desperate.", Chuuya shouted at you.

"So I'm annoying you now?", you said, your voice going quieter. "Yeah, with the way you were constantly up in my shit. You're not the most important thing right now, just stop trying to stress me more than you already are.", when he said that, you were facing the floor, fighting back the angry tears that were building up. "Alright, go do your work. I'll leave you to it.", you muttered, walking towards your door to take a walk. Chuuya just tsk'ed and went back to his room. It was quiet in the apartment, Chuuya was working on some papers left when he thought about your earlier argument. Wondering why you started it, he thought about what you said and slowly realized that what you said was true. He has gotten more distant, he was a little rude to you about leaving him alone and barely paid you and your attempts to help attention.

Knowing he probably fucked up in those past days, hurting your feelings and calling you 'annoying and desperate' probably caused the biggest guilt he ever experienced. Chuuya tried calling you but you hung up instantly. Okay, reasonable. The second time he called you took you're time to pick up. "Hey, baby—", "What do you want?", you asked coldly. "I thought you wanted to be left alone.", Chuuya could hear the pain in your voice. "Look, darling, you know I didn't mean what I said. It was the stress—", you really didn't wanna hear him right now, especially his excuses. "Sorry, Chuuya but I don't really wanna talk right now, since I'm annoying you anyways, talk to you later.", before getting another word out, you hung up. Chuuya just took deep sigh and thought of ways to apologize and make it up to you.

You first left at 6pm but returned at 8pm, you were a little tired after walking a lot so you looked forward to lay in your shared bed, alone again probably. You changed into Chuuya's shirt just like you have been these last several days for some missing closure, not forgetting your shorts before you sat on the bed to be on your phone. Not even five minutes later, the door creaked open, revealing Chuuya with a guilt driven face. "What?, you asked him once again. "Can we talk, please?", you just stared at him before nodding. He sat down on the bed, patting the space next to him, you moved to the edge of the bed to sit down next to him.

"I'm sorry,", Chuuya started. "I'm sorry for neglecting you these past days, didn't mean to make you feel like a burden.", "So you finally got the hint?", you ask sarcastically. "Baby, I mean it. I shouldn't have priotized my work over you and pushed you away during it. I never wanted to feel unimportant.", he held your hand now, gently caressing it. "The stress made me act this way probably and i shouldn't have lashed out at you. You forgive me?", your gaze was still as cold. Chuuya just pulled you close to him, finally after a week, this made you realize that you missed him more than you thought.

Chuuya stroked your back, kissing your forehead first, then your cheeks, and lastly, your lips— those lips he hasn't kissed for something which felt like an eternity. He just wanted to make it up to you one way or another. "Lay down, dollface, wanna make you feel good.", Chuuya said to you while he was holding your chin. "I haven't fully forgiven you yet, y'know that, right?", looking away while you said this, Chuuya just had to chuckle. "You're gonna when I'm done with you, trust me.", you rolled your eyes and just laid back like he wanted. Chuuya moved himself between your legs, removing the shorts and panties blocking his path and letting your legs hang over his shoulders.

"No need to tense up, pretty, jus' relax,", he whispered, pressing kisses to your thighs, never breaking eye contact. Those kisses started to get closer and closer to your cunt, which was waiting for his tongue. Once his mouth got to it's destination, Chuuya started his work. He ate you out like his life depended on it, but he made sure he won't make a big mess. You where quietly moaning, trying to not be heard by him. "Why so quiet, sweetheart?", he lightly teased, you just looked away again. "C'mon, look at me. I wanna make you feel good, remember that?", you looked back at him, your cheeks were slightly flushed and lust was filled in your eyes. Chuuya dived back in and kept his eye contact with you, looking at you while you try to bite down your moans. This only made him suck on your clit, which also broke your silence.

It didn't take long for you to finish with Chuuya looking at you while pleasuring you. As you came on his tongue, still breathing unsteady, Chuuya got up between your legs. "You're so perfect like this, darlin'.", he whispered before kissing you, you could loosely taste yourself on his tongue. While he was kissing you, he freed his cock out of his pants. Chuuya stopped kissing you for a second to insert his dick inside you. He stroked your folds with his tip to catch some slick and entered almost easily, as if your cunt was sucking him in. "Fuck, I forgot how good you felt around me. Forgive me for neglecting this perfect— oh, fuck!", he cut himself off by starting to thrust.

If you weren't loud earlier, you definitely were now. Chuuya was kissing you while being inside you, thrusting while his lips were on yours, whispering "I love you"s and apologies to you. "You're so good for me, fuck— I love you so much.", his thrusts got sloppier, meaning he was close. Your arms were thrown around his neck as you threw your head back, you could feel your upcoming orgasm. "Chuuya— shit, 'm so close, please don't stop!", "Wasn't planning on it, you feel way too good for that, baby.", as your cunt clenched down around him, he surprisingly moaned, instantly cumming inside you. He thrusted once more and that's when you came undone a second time.

"So. . did you change your mind, doll?"

@moth-of-mythos // @pretendtobesick04 // @alastors-deerest // @shi-nakano // @samutoru // @munnaitorei // @sjsnsidream // @shuwyyx // @skelitea // @xaviawinter // @cvidy // @cherrytreegrove // @skk-lover // @pe4rl-diver // @walking-simp

Sorry if ur tag didn't work 😕 also sorry if I fucked the storyline up

[adkawariatka]

So it’s a follow up of my previous post. it’s Tim perspective on how Damian changed and his reactions to them.

Tim wos tired but that’s nothing new. He should have slept at least two hours at night, but what’s done is done. He sits at the kitchen table sipping his third espresso and watching his siblings. When Bruce enters he looks at those present and seems to count. Ha that might be needed Tim thinks. After third attempt of his murder by demon brat that’s expected. Speaking of demons… Tim hasn’t seen Damian outside patrol for quite long. Not that he is complaining not having constant threat to your life around is nice but demon still should be at manor. Maybe Tim missed something when he wos looking into his case for last two weeks…

-Does someone saw Damian in manor lately?

When no one answers the question Tim sits straighter. That’s bad news really bad news.

-he wos at patrol tonight but outside from that no.

Dick answers. Well it’s Sunday at 10:00 in the morning. It’s not impossible for Damian to go out but where? It’s not as he has any friends. Tim snorts to his thoughts. He imagined demon brat talking to other kids „incompetent idiots that’s not how you hold katana!!!”. So no he doubts that possibility. He can see Bruce’s jaw tighten in worry. Ok so they need to find the brat. Before they can get serious about any action they hear front doors open and Alfred greetings

-Good morning Master Damian

And the demon enters kitchen as if nothing wos wrong. As if going out of manor as 10 year old alone wos acceptable. He greets father then Dick and to his suprise him also. And tries to go to the living room but Bruce stops him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

- where were you?

Tim winces it sounds more as a growl than a perfectly civilized question. Bruce parenting skills are shit as always. He knows that it’s out of worry but still….

-I wos on a walk

Damian is perfectly calm. That’s good. Tim is too tired for furious demon right now.

- who give you permission to go out without supervision?

And Damian watches him carefully. Tim can see him taking slow deep breaths. Huh, weird.

-you told me to make friends so I am working on it.

Tim almost spits his coffee. Working on making friends!? He hopes that any children that Damian chased with his katana are unharmed.

- you shouldn’t go out without anyone knowing where you are going. You need permission

-I am not a kid I can take care of myself!

There is the demon that Tim knows.

-it’s not a matter of being a kid or not. I need to know where you are as your guardian I am responsible for your safety

-tyt it’s pretty clear that I can protect myself

-but in this family you don’t need to. We have different rules.

And Tim saw something that he never saw before. Damian hestitated. Took a deep breath and asked like a civilized human being without anger or insults

- then if I inform you where I am going and when I will be back I can go?

Tim can’t believe it. Demon brat is… talking. With words like normal human being. Tim checks his coffee. He really needs to sleep more. Halucinations are bad sign.

-

But sleeping didn’t change the fact that Damian acted weird. After school and patrols he disappeared for „walks”. Tim knew something wos going on. But Bruce let it go. Damian started to inform him where he went and for how long and it actually checked. Dick even checked his location and everything lined up. But that wosnt the end of strange behaviors from Damian. The demon brat often glanced at Tim when they were in the same room. Not stared but glanced trying to be subtle. Well like for assassin training he wosnt so stealthy as he probably thought. Tim expected another attack soon. He started to carry battarangs with him around the house. when he started doing that and Damian caught on he did even weirder shit.

Imagine one evening when they were all in the living room and Damian enters. Of course with his katana that he keeps with himself at all times in the manor becouse Bruce forbidden him outside of hause and procedes to lock eyes with Tim and leaves his weapon near the door. Tim is staring at Damian as if he grew second head and he isn’t the only one.

From that time whenever Damian is in the same room as Tim he leaves his katana close to the door. Tim smells a trap. Whatever the brat is doing it can’t be good. Even if that gesture is kind of reassuring…. Tim is no fool. He will not be swayed by nice words or acknowledgment of his work or even leaving weapons outside of range of Damian’s hand.

One day after patrol, when Tim started to get ready for going to his room. To work of course, becouse the sharp eyes of Alfred didn’t leave him for a moment and distracted him from his case. He realised he is not alone. Damian followed him like shadow. Tim didn’t speed up his walking to not let the demon realize that he knew about his presence. Slowly he closed fingers around his batarang to make sure he will par first blow of katana. They were before Tim’s room when Damian started to speak

- Drake can we talk?

That sounded off. Damian didn’t talk he stabbed. More often Tim than anything else. But he sounded hestitant…. Well he has a weapon and when they enter his room they will be on his ground. He will know environment and hidden weapons there. He will have huge adventage when the fight will barek out.

-Sure why not

Tim let’s them in. He allows Damian to enter first. That way he has his back to Tim it’s safer that way. When the door closes Damian turns around Tim grips batarang in his pocked and waits for the start…. And nothing. Damian stands in the middle of his room locks his eyes with Tim’s and glances at his hand in his pocked. In the well lighted room it’s no mistakening that shape for anything different than a weapon. And then his guest procedes to holds his hands up palms to Tim in universal sign of no violence. Tim is dumbfounded. Damian clears his throat and starts:

- Drake I have been doing some reaserch… and it turned out I wos…. Misinformed. My past actions towards you were caused by my lack of knowledge and I shouldn’t have attacked you. I will not repeat that mistake again. I mean no harm to you…. Anymore

- What? Misinformed?! You stabbed me! Multiple times!

- I am aware Drake And I…

- no if you think that I will buy this story then You are delusional and

- I am sorry Timothy!

Damian cut him off. And Tim shut his mouth and looked at Damian. Really looked. He wos fidgeting and he actually flinched when he raised his voice. He stared at the floor and squized his hand so hard that it must have hurt. Tim stared in shock.

- Holy shit you are serious

Damian raised his gaze at Tim. And nodded. For once he looked as 10 year old boy. God Tim wos a dumbass. Damian WOS 10 years old. And lately he tried to be non-threatening towards Tim. Every weird action linked into a pretty clear picture. it looks like Damian finally realized his actions were wrong and came to Tim…. And Tim shouted at him.

- I ok let’s make things clear you realized you were wrong after what 8 months of leaving under one roof together? And…

Damian started to shrink in on himself and Tim stopped himself shit he wos doing it wrong. He crouched to be at Damian’s eye level and started again.

- No sorry first things first thank you for telling me. I appreciate the gesture. And lack of weapons for last month… It’s good to know you won’t try to kill me anymore. I don’t think I can just forget of what you did but… we can try to work it out. What do you say?

-that sounds reasonable Timothy.

Wow its so weird to agree with the brat… no Damian. Wait did he call him by his name!? While Tim wos trying to organize his thoughts Damian murmured something that caught his attention, that probably wosnt for Tim to hear.

-he wos right…

- It wos draining patrol I won’t take more of your time Drake. Good night

-who wos right?

Tim wosnt going to let that go. Someone talked Damian into doing this and he needs to know who. Dick wos unsuccessful in teaching Damian in basic human interactions. So must be someone outside. Bruce is too much emotionally conspirated, maybe Alfred. If yes then there is no reason to worry. But someone from outside could have hidden goals. It wos dangerous. Damian seemed suprised by his question but did not hestitate.

- My friend

And wosnt that a mistery. Tim needed to check that „friend” no matter what. He could be using Damian or plotting to hurt Wayne’s. But he wosnt going to let his suspicion break just created string of trust with his younger brother. He will check that stranger on his own in a way that Damian won’t realize. For know that wos enough. Damian wos opening the doors to go to his room when Tim added

- what happend to Timothy?

Damian slammed the door in his face. And Tim burst out laughing. He wos not going to let that go.

[katsu28]

"send ☕ along with a prompt from any one of the lists below and a character of your choosing, and i'll write you a one shot to satisfy your craving!"

☕: prompt 23 from list e for rafe!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

it pains me to paint my pogues in a not so great light but i will forever love protective rafe <3 thank you for requesting!

rafe cameron x reader, minimal swearing, 1.9k

“Look who it is! The Princess Kook, slummin’ it on our side of the island for once.” 

Your grip tightened around the pack of beer you were holding at the voice coming from behind you, because you already knew who it was. There was only one person ballsy enough to speak so critically of you, and you were pretty damn sure he was standing right behind you.

Lo and behold there he was, flanked by a more bored looking John B. 

JJ Maybank was and always had been on your case, though you suspected it had more to do with your family name than with you yourself—always spouting off about money and wealth and eating the rich. You understood where he was coming from, of course, but that didn’t mean it stopped being irritating.

It just seemed like he was always riding you about being some little rich girl with daddy’s money, not an actual person, with actual feelings. But after a while, you’d grown used to it. JJ was all bark and no bite. 

“Hi, JJ.” You sighed, shifting your weight to one leg. You nodded at John B, who did the same back to you. “How’s it going?” 

“Didn’t know our booze was good enough for Her Majesty’s taste.” JJ sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. You rolled your eyes at his dig. “Rafe know you’re over here?” 

“He’s not my keeper.” 

“What’re you even doing here, Y/N? They don’t got beer on Figure Eight?” John B sounded a little bit nicer, more tired than bitchy like his blond friend. 

“Cheaper here.” 

“Like you don’t have enough fuckin’ money.” JJ scoffed. John B jabbed a sharp elbow into his side, a sign for him to shut up. 

“Look guys, I’m not looking for any trouble. I just wanna get some beer and go home, that’s it.” 

“How ‘bout you leave the beer here and run back to your little princess castle instead?” 

“You’re a real prick tonight, JJ. Something got your panties all up in a bunch?” You shouldn’t have snarked back, that you knew, but he was really getting on your nerves tonight. You weren’t sure why. His words usually just slid right off you. 

JJ’s expression darkened and he scowled, brows furrowing. “Maybe ‘cause I just got fired from the Club this morning.” 

“What, why?” You asked, surprised. It was a genuine question. JJ was a definite pain in your ass, maybe with an attitude problem but still a good employee. 

“Oh, drop the clueless act. Pretty sure it was one of your stuck up friends who complained.” 

“I’m sorry you got fired, JJ, I am, but I had nothing to do with it. And there’s nothing I can do about it either. I don’t have that kind of pull with anyone at the Club, neither does my family.” 

You figured it would be better if you left now before JJ came up with another retort, or you'd likely be here trading snippy insults with each other all night, and you had better things to do with your time. There was some sympathy in you for him, but your statement was still true. There was nothing you could do for him, even if you wanted to. And besides, Rafe was waiting on you for a movie night. 

Leaving the conversation and the beer you were supposed to get behind, you hurried back to your car. The quicker you got to Rafe’s place, the quicker you could forget about it. 

Only a couple minutes into the drive, headlights flashed in your mirror. No big deal, probably just someone heading the same way as you. You were on the main road to the other side of the island, after all. 

Then the car sped up a bit, coming dangerously close to your back bumper before retreating a sizable distance behind—once, twice. By the third time, you were starting to get a little pissed. 

“What the fuck?” You muttered, squinting to get a better look at it. A big camper van, old from what you make out in the darkness, faded orange—oh fuck. You knew that van, John B’s old clunker of a car. And if you squinted a little harder, you could almost make out the same blond head of hair that was antagonizing you back at the store. 

So JJ did have a little bite in him. You sure as hell weren’t going to stick around to find out. 

Stepping on the gas a little harder, you took the long way back to the Figure 8, weaving through the backroads you’d known like the back of your hand since before you were able to drive. Back then, you’d done it on your bike, peals of laughter echoing through the overgrown fields of the Cut turned clean lines of pristinely cut lawns the closer you got to home, as Rafe chased after you on his own. 

Still, the van followed you on your way. With every glance at it in the rearview mirror, you grew a little more worried.

JJ’s driving was erratic, like he was playing a game of cat and mouse with you. If he really wanted to hurt you, this would be the ideal place to do it. There was nothing but grass and weeds around here. Nobody would find you for hours, even days if he were to run you into a ditch or something. 

That thought alone spurred you to drive even faster, driving and driving until you took one more look in the mirror to see that the van had stopped. You watched the headlights grow smaller in the distance, forcing yourself to keep driving until you got to safety—to Rafe. 

You screeched to a stop in front of Rafe’s townhouse, barely giving a backwards glance to see if they were really gone before hurrying the rest of the way to the front door. Hands trembling, you balled them both into fists, raising one to knock as loudly as you could. You could barely hear the thud of your fist on the wood over your thundering heart. 

The door opened in an instant, Rafe’s smiling face greeting you. It quickly faded when he took in your wide eyes, your hard breathing. He pulled you inside immediately, sliding the locks home behind you before gathering you into his arms. “What happened?”

You explained as quick as you could, but the adrenaline from the whole thing was starting to die down. Your previous thoughts were starting to seem silly at this point. JJ was a hothead, but you didn't think he’d go so far as to take out his anger on you. He was probably just trying to scare you, nothing more, nothing less. 

Rafe, on the other hand, was livid. 

“Did they hurt you?” He asked, voice dangerously low. His eyes searched you for any visible injuries, hands sliding over your body with the utmost care, a stark contrast to the storm creeping into his beautiful blue eyes. “I swear to god if those punks even laid a finger on you—” 

“No, no, they didn’t hurt me, Rafe. I’m okay now, I promise. Just a little shaken up is all.” You assured him, stopping his search by lacing your fingers through his. He still looked unsure. “I’m fine, baby. Honest.” 

Rafe’s brows furrowed long and hard, and you reached up, attempting to smooth out the deep wrinkle between them with your thumb. 

You traced above one of them, trailing down over the skin under it before letting your palm settle against his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut for a split second as he leaned more into your touch. The wrinkle disappeared. 

“Okay. But you’re not going home tonight. You’re gonna stay here, with me, and I’m gonna have a talk with my sister in the morning, okay?” He was calmer now, you could tell. The sharp edge to his voice was gone, his shoulders relaxed the more you stroked along his skin. You nodded, satisfied. “Can I make you something? Tea? A snack? I’ve got those cheese puffs you’re so obsessed with, though I don’t really see how good—” 

“Rafe,” You chided, smiling warmly, “You don’t have to dote on me. I’m fine.” 

“I know. My girl’s strong.” He murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to the soft skin of your palm. “Just had me worried for a bit, that’s all.” 

You kissed him, short and sweet, before tugging him towards the living room. Your gaze landed on the snacks he’d laid out on the coffee table first, drifting to the heaps of blankets and pillows on the couch right after.

Everything was already set up perfectly, and with all that had happened in just the past hour, sent a warmth flooding through your body, a sense of safe and love and home that you only ever felt when you were with Rafe. 

Rafe suddenly looked bashful, scratching the back of his neck with an embarrassed grin at the way you were looking at him. “What? I was excited to see you.” 

“You saw me yesterday, Rafe.” You chided lightly, completely failing at a stern look in favor of something much fonder. 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t miss you.” 

“Rafe Cameron, are you going soft on me?” You hummed, settling onto the couch. Rafe threw himself down next to you with a nonchalant shrug, resting an idle hand on your knee when you threw your legs across his thighs, but the answer was a resounding yes.

Yes, he was soft for you. Yes, he loved you more than he loved anything and anyone in this world. 

He knew it, you knew it, and that was what prompted him to speak his next words. 

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking.” 

“Uh oh.” You snickered, drawing a roll of his eyes with a lopsided smile. 

“Hilarious. Anyways, um, what would—I mean, what’re your thoughts about maybe…moving in with me?” 

“Here?” Maybe you sounded a bit more skeptical than you meant to, because Rafe quickly backtracked, sitting up straight. 

“Doesn’t have to be here. We could get a new place, if you want.” He replied, shaking his head. “Top’s uncle works in real estate, I could probably get him to show us some places within the next couple of days—”

“No.” 

Rafe’s expression crumpled. “No? No, as in no, you don’t want to live together?” 

You amended your rather blunt statement with a hand placed over his. “No, as in no, I don’t want to get a new place. I wanna live here. With you.” 

“You do?” 

“Don’t look so surprised, Cameron, your place is way nicer than mine.” You teased. Clearly amused, he scoffed, giving your calf a playful pinch. 

“That the only reason?” 

“‘Course not. I’m also looking forward to that fancy shower head in your bathroom.” 

Rafe snorted, pulling you close against him, pressing his forehead against yours. He looked a bit funny like this, nearly bug-eyed because of your close proximity, but you thought he’d never looked cuter. “And me?” 

You peppered kisses to his cheeks, chin, nose, the corners of his mouth in lieu of an answer, loud and over dramatic and definitely obnoxious, but it made him laugh. Then you kissed him right where he wanted, firm and loving against his lips to say yes, always you, and he smiled. 

Moving in with Rafe meant getting to hear your favorite laugh, see your favorite smile, every single day waking up next to him. You hoped you’d get to experience it for the rest of your life, starting now. 

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[momonyu]

the one that (almost) got away

roronoa zoro x fem!reader

it takes him 12 hours to realize

3.6k words

a/n: ok listen, i think i started writing this like 6+ months ago and it’s just been sitting in my drafts bc idk how to commit to endings so y’all are gonna have to take this as it is. also i have no concept of how sailing works or how long it takes oops

9:00 pm

“y'know, there's really no point to a farewell party if the one leaving isn't there.”

you look up from your spot on the library floor. your eyes land on the green-haired swordsman leaning against the doorframe and you smile.

“i’ll be there in a second. i just have some more stuff to go through.”

zoro eyes the mess of books surrounding you, recognizing a few of nami’s atlases and robin’s textbooks. “you haven’t finished packing yet?”

“i’m mostly done. i’m just trying to decide which books i want to keep.” catching his eye, you joke, “why? you want me gone that bad?”

crossing the room, a scoff leaves his lips. nothing could be further from the truth.

“you got me. i am so sick of you,” he says with a grin. “can’t wait to get rid of the annoying librarian invading my napping spot.”

zoro plops down on the bench behind you, catching a whiff of your shampoo as he lies down. you sit with your back to him, sorting through your piles, but zoro can hear the smile in your voice when you speak.

“you’re such a pretender, eh?”

zoro puts on a look of overdramatic offense, a hand on his chest. “me? you’re talking about me?”

at his poor acting, you turn around. you rest your chin on the bench, your face so close to zoro’s that one could only describe it as a kissable distance.

“you act like i'm all in your space, but nami told me that you never used to spend any time in here at all!”

“pfft, why would you ever trust what that con artist has to say?” zoro pokes your forehead. “you see it with your own eyes. am i or am i not here every day?”

you purse your lips as you think back to the last few months; he’s right.

you’ve spent most of your days in the ship’s library, and zoro has almost always stopped by. in the beginning, it would be for a few minutes, but over the last little while, he’d be in here as long as you were.

zoro smiles as he watches you think, eyebrows furrowed as you replay the last few months in your head. little do you know that this is exactly why the library is his new hideout. watching your pretty little mind work — doing what you love, thinking and studying and reading — is a far better use of his spare time than anything else he could be doing.

“anyway,” he says. “i guess your silly star stories have been a good trade-off.”

now it’s your turn to be mock-offended.

“silly star stories? you’re the one who asked about the constellations in the first place!”

“only because you kept talking about these fictional gods like they actually did something important.”

“says the guy who's completely enthralled by hades,” you roll your eyes.

“king of hell, god of the underworld,” he grins. “that’s my kinda guy.”

zoro laughs when you shake your head at him. he’ll never tire of teasing you; you are far too adorable with your little sigh and a ghost of a smile on your lips.

“did you know,” he says with a playful look. “that you still owe me about ten more constellation stories? d’you think you could squeeze in one more before we head up?”

zoro smiles at you, and you can't help but smile back. 

you have so many treasured memories with zoro in this library; ones of just the two of you (him napping while you studied), ones with nami and robin (and sanji until nami kicked the boys out for their incessant bickering), and ones where the night listens in as you recite the history of the stars.

whether you were telling the story of another righteous deity enacting justice, or the tale of mere mortals who insulted the gods, zoro would listen with his eyes closed, lying across the bench as he is now, and you’d sit in front of him as you are now.

everyone’s waiting for you upstairs and you hate to disappoint, but some things are more important — like telling a silly star story to a silly swordsman.

“of course i can.”

12:00 am

raucous laughter and cheering that’s loud enough to deafen anybody; empty plates, once piled high with food, now scattered around the room; bottles on bottles of sake and rum and whiskey and every liqueur that one would hope to find on a pirate ship.

these are zoro’s requirements for a good time, and suffice to say that your farewell party has them all in spades.

zoro watches his friends’ tomfoolery from his spot at the table (currently, luffy’s trying to get franky to see how far he can slingshot him) when you plop yourself into the seat beside him.

“this,” you say as your arm knocks against his, “is the best party i’ve ever been to.”

zoro takes a swig from his glass, “you haven’t partied until you’ve partied with pirates.”

“seriously! you guys are insane!”

as if to prove your point, franky chooses that exact moment to show off a juggling sequence involving a barrel of whiskey, a giant potted plant, and a squealing chopper.

you gasp at the spectacle but quickly dissolve into laughter when nami saves chopper, and it’s with both awe and pure excitement that you turn to zoro. laughter is etched into your lips, your cheeks are flushed, and zoro can’t help but marvel at how you’re even cuter when you’re having fun.

“what, you’ve never seen a cyborg man toss a speaking reindeer in the air before?”

you nudge him with your elbow, “well, excuse me for leading such a mundane life where animals don’t speak and men don’t tinker with their bodies.”

“ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.”

you look at zoro quizically.

he takes a sip of his beer, “most men do tinker with their bodies.”

it takes you a moment to catch his innuendo and zoro roars with laughter when the realization hits you. embarrassment tinges your pretty face and you shove him with a loud “ew, zoro!” but he can’t stop cackling.

“you’re disgusting!”

you make to swat zoro across the chest but he quickly catches your hand. he leans in to waggle his eyebrows at you, “but i’m not wrong, am i?”

you groan loudly, which only makes him laugh again.

perhaps it’s the alcohol that let his inhibitions go, or maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t have much longer with you, but when you hastily change the subject and there’s no longer a reason for him to still be holding your hand, he doesn’t let go.

when nami joins you two, his fingers slips between yours and to his surprise, yours do the same. sanji joins your threesome, then franky and robin, and in no time at all, it’s no longer just the two of you at the table.

but zoro doesn’t care.

drunk, carefree, and more content than he’s ever been, zoro closes his eyes and smiles. he lives in the moment, and in this moment, he’s happy — happy with a full stomach and a full glass, happy to be surrounded by his favourite people, and happy that, under the table, you’re still holding his hand.

3:00 am

“and what’s that one?”

hands swinging between you, you and zoro dodge the tide as you roam further and further from the thousand sunny. the sand is cool under your feet and the tide kisses your toes with each step. your other arm is stretched above you, pointing at a constellation in the distance.

“what is this - a pop quiz?”

you smile, “i want to make sure you don’t forget about my ‘silly star stories.’”

zoro groans, “has anyone told you that holding grudges isn’t healthy? keeping going and you’ll turn into a bitter old thing some day.”

you stick out your tongue, “you’re just afraid you’ll get it wrong.”

“wrong?” zoro scoffs. “i’ve gotten the past six right.”

walking along the beach, you and zoro fall in step with each other and your footsteps match the ebbing waves in perfect rhythm. you smile in his direction and his chest is flooded with a warmth that has nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he’s consumed.

“alright, let’s see what we got here.”

zoro follows your gaze at the cluster of stars you’ve chosen, and he grins when he sees the constellation. “really? at least try to make this hard for me, please.”

his cocky attitude leaves you speechless, making zoro laugh. 

“you’re so annoying!” you shove him with your free hand and the force of his stumble pulls you along, and you shriek as he drags you into the ocean with him. he doesn’t let go of you, not even for a second — not when water splashes your legs, not when zoro’s pants get soaked as he spins you around. 

your laughter is warmth in its purest form, the kind that you can feel all the way down to your cold toes. when he sets you back down, you give his hand a little squeeze, to which zoro answers back with a tender smile.

now with wet feet and a distance between you that’s even smaller than it already was, zoro continues to walk alongside you.

“moving on from your pathetic distraction attempt,” — you let out a dramatic gasp — “i’ll tell you exactly who we were looking at.”

pointing at the starry zodiac sign, zoro speaks with complete confidence.

“virgo the maiden, otherwise known as persephone, wife and muse of the best god of them all, hades—”

“fanboy much?” you tease but zoro pretends not to hear you (the little tug of his lips tells you that he does).

“—who snuck her a pomegranate seed because he couldn’t bear for her to leave him.”

zoro puffs his chest with pride, relishing in this one niche study of which he is now an expert. it’s incredibly endearing how pleased he is with his answer and you almost feel bad for correcting him.

almost.

“good answer,” you grin. “but you left out the little detail about how she was kept in hell against her will.”

zoro gasps, “are you accusing my idol of being a kidnapper?”

“your idol!” your cheeks already hurt so much from smiling but another giggle slips out. “first of all, these aren’t my accusations. historians have told their love story this way for years—”

“slander is what this is.”

“—and secondly, why would you want to look up to hades? he’s literally the antagonist in every story.”

“he’s the king of hell! that’s so bad ass.” zoro winks at you, “don’t be surprised if you hear them calling me ‘zoro, king of hell’ some day.”

“what’s wrong, demon of east blue doesn’t go hard enough for you?”

embarrassment rushes to zoro’s face and he’s never been more grateful for the night. “who told you that? was it usopp or nami? i bet it was nami.”

“i might hold a grudge but i don’t snitch,” you flash a mischievous smile. “anyway, let’s get back to how you want to be just like devil who tricked a poor girl in returning to the underworld.”

“come on, can you blame a man for doing whatever it takes to stop his beloved from leaving him?”

it sounds like an innocent question — harmless banter, really — but something in the way he says it makes you stop dead in your tracks. a silence falls and in its wake, all you can do is stare at the man you’ve spent the last several months with, the same man that you have to say goodbye to tomorrow.

moonlight falls unto the both of you and bathes zoro in soft light. it illuminates his eyes and when you meet his gaze, you see a sense of longing there that you feel in your chest. a longing for what, you don’t know — or rather, you don’t want to know.

at least, not yet.

so you hold his hand a little tighter, and underneath the watchful eye of the gods and constellations, muster a smile,

“i guess not.”

6:00 am

if this was any other morning, zoro would be awake and working out already. he'd be done his fourth set of bicep curls or, at the very least, working on his form. he could even be in the middle of deadlifts (because he knows not to skip leg day), but he definitely wouldn't still be in bed the way that he is right now.

the thing is though, if this was any other morning, he wouldn't have you sleeping next to him, curled into him like you were made to be a perfect fit.

he's never been more glad to still be in bed.

your breath matches the rise and fall of zoro's chest, perfectly in rhythm with the waves outside his window and the beat of his heart, like the universe meant for all these things to be in harmony at this one singular moment in time.

your lashes flutter in response when he shifts his weight.

he takes a peek at you, “psst, are you awake?”

eyes still closed, you manage a noncommittal grunt but your body says otherwise.

zoro can’t help but smile as he watches you start to wake up. your toes wiggle beneath the covers and you rub your eyes before looking up at him with an adorably sleepy look that he would love to wake up to every day. 

if only he could.

you focus your gaze on zoro like he’s an anchor in a sea of slumber. the way that you look at him, as if he’s the only thing that you see, fills his chest with a golden warmth akin to the breaking dawn.

you offer him a soft smile, and zoro wonders if the sun knows that you glow brighter than it ever could.

“why are you up at this ungodly hour?”

he chuckles, low and tender, “’m used to it. i’m usually up by now.”

“freak,” you mutter. zoro laughs, and you can’t think of anything else that sounds more beautiful at six in the morning.

you’re not usually up this early but what you notice is that, at dawn, time has a habit of moving slowly. it’s as if the morning casts magic upon those who rise with the daylight — and you’re so thankful for that.

because if time moved any faster than this, you’d have to say goodbye that much sooner.

“are you going to miss us?” zoro puts his arms around you.

you murmur into his chest, “of course, i will.”

“who do you think you’ll miss the most?” 

you give pause and zoro’s almost certain you can hear his heart beating a little louder — he can definitely hear it. he doesn’t typically get nervous like this but, then again, nothing about the way you make him feel is typical.

you seem to have come to a conclusion because you look up at zoro and he holds his breath. 

“sanji.”

he blinks.

“wait, are you serious?”

you’ve never seen zoro looks so wonderfully scandalized before, and you burst into a fit of giggles. as soon as you start, he knows he’s been had. he scowls but only for a moment; for who could be upset in the presence of such twinkling laughter?

 “silly man,” you snuggle closer, "of course i’m not serious.”

“okay, good.” you can hear the smile in his voice. “i don’t know if my ego could handle losing to him.”

zoro holds you close, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. his movements are slow, steady, comforting — ‘round and ‘round, in the same spot, like he’s drawing an invisible mark that is only known to the two of you.

"but, you know,” you hum, careful not to disrupt the peace. “you wouldn’t.”

“wouldn’t what?”

“lose.” and after a beat, you quietly add, “you wouldn’t lose to anyone.”

and just like that, zoro’s on cloud nine, airborne and weightless. he’s always known that he has a place in your heart, but this is the first time that you’ve ever hinted about where that place may be. if he allowed himself to be hopeful, it almost sounds like a confession. 

but almost isn’t good enough for him. zoro wants more — wants to find out exactly where he belongs in your life, wants to know if he can make himself at home there. 

it’s a shame that he’s out of time.

you interrupt his thoughts with a whisper, barely audible above the sound of the ocean and his aching heart,

“will you miss me?” 

more than anything.

9:00 am

surely, zoro’s dream to be hades has been granted. otherwise, why would it feel like he’s in hell, standing on the deck, all alone and watching your dinghy sail away from the thousand sunny?

zoro’s had his fair shares of farewells while aboard the ship, and to be honest, yours wasn’t any more emotional than anyone else’s. you left with a smile as beautiful as the morning sun and with far less tears than he expected (which he’s thankful for because he would hate to see you cry). as far as bittersweet goodbyes go, yours was definitely more sweet than bitter.

and yet, here zoro stands, with a bad taste in his mouth that he can’t explain. he can still see you from where he stands, and watching your little boat in the distance is the only thing that seems to settle his uneasy heart. 

should he have bid adieu privately? maybe he should’ve left you with a memento of some kind? should he have done more than offer you a quick hug? was it his imagination, or did you hold onto him just a beat longer than you needed to?

zoro’s so occupied by these messy thoughts that he doesn’t even hear sanji approach him.

“well?”

startled, zoro can only stare at the blond cook. ignoring the dumb look on his face, sanji continues.

“what’d she say when you told her?” sanji nods in the direction of your boat.

“told her what?”

“that you love her,” sanji takes a drag of his cigarette, looking at zoro directly now.

he speaks so frankly, so matter-of-fact and candidly, that it takes zoro a second to really register what it is that he’s saying. 

he loves you.

and as soon as he thinks it, the truth comes barreling through all the doubts clouding his head. clarity floods his chest as he comes face-to-face with what his yearning, pining heart has been trying to tell him this whole time.

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you-

fuck.

he loves you.

and he never told you.

epilogue — 9:30 am

sails closed, your boat floats with the current and the salty breeze reminds you that your adventure with the strawhats has come to a close. compared to the never-ending bustle of the crew, it’s almost too quiet being at sea alone. the silence lends itself to your overactive mind, working full time to unravel the tightness you feel in your chest.

you’re lost in thoughts of what could’ve, should’ve, and would’ve been — so much so that you don’t even hear the commotion behind you. it’s not until you hear zoro call your name that you hear the frantic swimming and you whirl around.

“zoro! what-”

“can you help me first?” he splutters.

you pull yourself together long enough to run to the side of your dinghy, pulling a sopping wet pirate on board. zoro leans back, trying to catch his breath as you rummage through your things.

“are you crazy? do you know how far we are from the sunny?” you throw a towel over him before reaching for another. you start drying off his hair, frantically fussing over him.

“you think that just because chopper gives you the clearance that you can push yourself over the limit-”

“y/n.”

“this is why you’re always on house arrest! you’re actually insane, you know that?”

“y/n.”

“i know you work out, but for goodness’ sake, zoro, you’re only human-”

“y/n.” zoro holds your wrists, forcing you to stop with a start.

in all your worrying, you didn’t realize that you’d been gravitating closer to zoro until you’re staring into his dark, obsidian eyes. there’s clarity in the way that he looks at you. his eyes are shining with a fierceness that you’ve only seen in his worst fights, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next.

because you know that this will change everything.

“hades and persephone.”

“huh?“ you blink at him. “did you hit your head-”

“ask me if i think hades loved persephone.”

you stare into zoro’s eyes, desperation reflecting back at you. there’s a hidden question there and you understand immediately.

quietly, you ask, "do you think hades loved persephone?”

“i do,” he whispers. “i think he loved her and he would've been stupid to let her go.”

your breath catches. zoro places a hand over yours, surprisingly warm as his fingers find their home between your own.

the heavens watch on as the two of you finally open your hearts and give way to the stuff that myths and legends yearn for — a connection that can only be described as fated, destined, purely and resplendently magical.

the gods smile at the two lovers who find themselves falling into each other, laughing as you confess, over and over again,

i love you.