#i just need to go back to my old ways. everything on one blog. and maybe a side blog for smth specific.

[luna-azzurra]

Hii I love your blog sm ur an angel 🩷. Could you please do like a list or something with examples of nicknames for friends?

I write fanfics in english but it's not my first language so it's a bit difficult for me, thanks 🩷

Heyyy, I'm glad that my blog helps you! 🩷 I’ve written down a bunch of my favorite nicknames, along with what they mean and the vibes they give off. 

Adorable & Affectionate Nicknames

Sweetie: Simple and cute, it’s like the classic nickname when one friend is always comforting the other.

Pumpkin: It’s got that old-fashioned, “you’re my little ball of sunshine” vibe.

Honeybun: Ultimate cozy nickname. You’d call someone this if they’re the nurturing, always-got-your-back kind of friend.

Snugglebug: It’s for the friend who’s all about giving hugs or being there when you need emotional support.

Cupcake: You know that friend who just makes you smile? That’s your cupcake.

Button: This one’s cute for a friend who’s small or just makes you go “aww” all the time.

Playful & Silly Nicknames

Spud: A potato, but in the best way. Perfect for that lazy but lovable friend.

Bean: It’s random but super cute, especially for a friend who’s quirky and fun.

Squishy: For the friend who’s soft, either physically or emotionally, and just huggable.

Giggles: You know that friend who’s always laughing at literally everything? Yeah, this is for them.

Waffles: No reason. Just waffles. It’s silly, weird, and perfect for a random nickname.

Pipsqueak: For the friend who’s short but feisty, like they’re small but will 100% fight you.

Personality-Based Nicknames

Ace: For the friend who’s always on top of their game, whether it’s in school, sports, or life in general.

Firecracker: You’ve got that one friend who’s all energy and attitude? Yep, this one’s for them.

Tiger: Strong, fierce, and maybe a little protective, this is for a friend who’s bold and confident.

Champ: For the friend who’s always winning at life, no matter what they do.

Professor: You know that super smart friend who’s always dropping random knowledge? This one’s for them.

Rocket: This is for the friend who’s always moving a mile a minute, constantly going somewhere or doing something.

Sparky: For the friend who’s got a quick wit or just a lot of energy. It’s short, fun, and full of personality.

Scout: For that adventurous friend who’s always trying new things or planning cool trips.

Nature-Inspired Nicknames

Rosebud: Cute and delicate, perfect for a friend who’s sweet or still growing into themselves.

Buttercup: It’s soft and nurturing, like the friend who’s always there when you need a shoulder to cry on.

Bluebell: Dreamy and whimsical, like someone who’s got their head in the clouds in a totally charming way.

Clover: Lucky charm vibes. This could be for someone who just brings good things into your life.

Lilac: Soft, calming, and just pretty. It’s for someone who makes everything feel more peaceful.

Maple: This gives cozy autumn vibes. It’s for a friend who feels like home or just brings warmth wherever they go.

Food-Inspired Nicknames

Peach: For someone who’s sweet and sunny. It’s a soft, affectionate name for a friend who just makes everything better.

Cookie: Comforting, dependable, and someone who’s always there when you need them. Total softie vibes.

Marshmallow: Soft, squishy, and maybe a little sensitive, but in a totally lovable way.

Gummy Bear: Cute, bouncy energy.

Dumpling: Another soft, squishy one. It’s perfect for a friend who’s a bit quiet but full of warmth.

If you need even more, I’m happy to help! 😊

[thepersonperson]

Seeing your latest post. Do you think there is a connection with JJK 0 ending theme? It's title is "Sakayume". It's by King Gnu too.

Believe it or not, someone else in 2022 was intrigued by the JJK 0 ending theme being called Sakayume. Quoting this poster directly:

"逆夢 sakayume Is a dream that contradicts reality. It’s unrealistic meaning that it can’t or won’t happen in real life."

This song is then compared to the anime's ED 2, Cö shu Nie's give it back.

"I feel this song is about 逆夢 sakayume in a sense. The song speaks about “giving back the dream” It’s called “Give it back” and it’s like “give me back the dream” “what happened to rest of the dream and why did I have to wake to reality”  basically it’s longing. It’s longing to go back to the dream and not a reality that contradicts that dream. So when I hear this ED I also think of the movie’s theme song for them which is Sakayume!"

Keep this in the back your mind. It only gets worse from here.

Yuji and Megumi's Character Songs

Recently, I got this in my replies from @mizzi14-blog.

(Here's a link to all the character songs with corresponding videos for listening.)

A translation for Megumi's character song Uchujin's Hakujitsumu (Daydream). From the last stanza:

This is not a song to just forget about the painful past This is a song that confronts the sadness The moon in the night sky waxes and wanes There are no stars in sight. But even in the darkness, tomorrow shines brightly And this is a song I share with you.

In summary, this song is about someone trying to confront their trauma but getting swept up in a daydream with their beloved.

A translation for Yuji's character song Kuchiroro's Itsuka dokoka de (Sometime, Somewhere). From the last stanza:

Nobody knows… Ah. The heart of my real self is so cowardly. I try to scream until I lose my voice. I don’t need anything… I bear a fate I still cannot accept. If I can share my feelings somewhere then I might speak about how my dream continues…

In summary, this song is about someone who feels lonely and isolated dreaming of their ideal world through the pain.

Y'all this diabolical. What the hell.

But wait there's more!

Sukuna mocked Yuji and Megumi's doomed love when he made the Enchain Binding Vow with Yuji using some ridiculous wordplay way back in JJK 11.

Enchain doubles as Megumi Activities. But let's break that down some more. (Unfortunately the Twitter account of the person I referenced may or may not be nuked so here's this screenshot I've doctored.)

So we have the translation of Enchain from 契闊 (Keikatsu), which might be better localized as Separation.

This term comes from a Chinese poem about lovers who are husband and wife in The Book of Odes, Section I (Lessons from the States), Chapter 3 (The Odes of Bei), Poem 31 (Banging the Drum). (Here's a link to the full poem and context of it.)

In summary, it’s about a soldier who is on the brink of death, having lost nearly everything after being abandoned by those in power, lamenting the happiest days of his life with his love are ones he can never get back. (Hey that sounds just like what Sukuna did to Yuji!)

Keikatsu specifically comes from this passage:

“Our vow is beyond death and life”, I and you are together I always remembered. I will hold your hand, And together we grow old.

Too pitiful we are faraway apart, The distance separates us to meet again! Too miserable this takes forever, And it does not let us fulfill our vow!

Keikatsu is used to exemplify how the physical distance between the husband and wife prevents them from fulfilling their wedding vows. And that's just what Keikatsu/Enchain does to Yuji and Megumi, it causes painful separation neither of them wanted.

In Conclusion?

GEGE GREGORY AKUTAMI IS THIS JUST DOOMED YAOI ALL THE WAY DOWN?????? GEGE!!!! ANSWER ME!!!!

[devilzfruit]

im really excited to document new things here

[kyra-cooneyx]

get her back — a.putellas x reader

summary: you annoy alexia a little too much and do whatever you can to get her to talk to you again

cute lil fluffy fic to kick off the new blog

if there was one thing you loved more than football, it was pissing off your girlfriend. alexia had the patience of a saint and you often found yourself pushing to see just how far said patience would stretch.

and that day was no different.

it had started in the morning when you decided to move things around the kitchen so that alexia wouldn’t be able to find what she needed for breakfast then you hid alexia’s car keys and phone, only giving them back to her when she threatened to make you run an unbearable amount of laps if you made the two of you even a second late for training.

you graciously decided to leave her alone in the car.

and considering how long alexia had known you, it really was stupid of her to assume that that was it for the day. so when she entered the changing room and opened her bag to find it completely empty, she knew she shouldn’t have felt so surprised.

when alexia looked over at your cubby, she found you sitting there with a cheeky grin on your face, a small—almost identical louis vuitton—bag hanging from your fingers.

you stood up and made your way over to her, clicking your tongue. “you grabbed my old one ale, you really should check your things before you leave.”

really you were lucky that all she did was snatch her bag from your hand before pushing you back towards your cubby. you could tell from the crease in her eyebrows that her patience was starting to crumble.

but instead of leaving it there like you maybe should’ve, you decided to toe the line a little more. during training, you did everything she said, not as well as you usually would but well enough that alexia really couldn’t call you out for anything.

it was around a minute after the water break had been called that you’d found yourself wedged between mapi and patri, the three of you giggling to yourselves as you squirted bits of your water over pina, accidentally getting alexia wet in the process. you had immediately apologised since your girlfriend was not the intended but given the moods you were both in, alexia simply walked away, not really believing the apology was sincere. your shoulders slumped, watching her retreating figure. and until lunchtime, you gave alexia the space she clearly wanted but wouldn’t outright ask for in front of your teammates.

as you grabbed your food, you saw alexia sat with some of the other girls, laughing at something vicky had said. so assuming the blonde had put what happened behind her, you took the empty seat next to her, joining the conversation with ease.

when alexia lifted her fork and you playfully knocked it against yours, you weren’t expecting her to shuffle away from you at all, never mind as quick as she did. much to your dismay, every playful attempt you made at getting your girlfriends attention had either been met with stony silence or a hard look, both of which left you deflated.

so again, you left her alone for the remainder of lunch. and you had been successful in leaving her alone until everyone started filing into the changing room to go home.

once it had started emptying, you shuffled over to alexia, looking up at her hopefully. the huff you let out at the lack of reaction almost made alexia break and if you were still looking at her, you’d have seen the corner of her mouth quirk.

“ale,” you whispered, eyeing the spare hoodie that sat mockingly in her cubby. any other day you would’ve snatched it without a second thought. and if you’d known that alexia’s genuine annoyance had long faded, you’d have done so again. “can you stop ignoring me now? i miss you.”

when that got no reaction, you began gently banging your forehead against her arm, muttering her name under your breath over and over.

after another minute of doing that, you sighed and took a step back. “come over to my place in two hours, i guarantee you’ll be talking to me by the end of the night.”

you really weren’t sure if alexia would come so when your front door finally opened, you perked up. and when alexia rounded the corner, she found you standing by the table, smiling proudly, where her favourite takeout was plated and her favourite flowers sat in a vase.

the smile that spread across alexia’s face had you sighing in relief. “i did good, right?”

“si, muy buena, mi amor.”

you blushed and motioned for her to sit down, the two of you eating in comfortable silence. once you’d both finished, you glanced over at her. “i’m sorry about today ale, i really didn’t mean to annoy you so much. and i really didn’t mean to hit you with that water.”

you watched as alexia stood, making her way over to you and pulling you up into a hug. you melted into her arms and she kissed your head. “i know.”

“and yet you made me believe otherwise, you’re so mean.”

“maybe. but you love me.”

“yeah, i guess i do.”

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: FELIX X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: TEASING, SEXTING, LINGERIE, MEAN DOM!FELIX, BRATTY SUB!READER, FEM!READER, HANDCUFFS, ORAL (M. REC) , DEGRADING/PRAISE, SPITTING, HAIR PULLING, MARKING, PET NAMES (PUMPKIN, BABY, DARLING), BITING, CHOKING, DEEP THROATING, FAACE FUCKING, DACRYPHILIA, SPANKING, ORGASM DENIAL, MANHANDELING, DADDY KINK, THIGH SLAPPING, (1) CUNT SLAP, UNPROTECTED SEX (wrap it before you tap it), CREAMPIE(S), MULTIPLE ROUNDS (2), EDGING, NIPPLE PLAY, DIRTY TALK, MENTIONS OF SAFEWORD, SUB SPACE (?), AFTERCARE, FOOD MENTIONS ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.5K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     There were two sides to every coin. Felix was no different. To everyone outside his and Y/n’s relationship, he was the sweet boy who loved his girlfriend. And he did, truly. But there was a sneaky dark side underneath the exterior. There always had to be one. 

     Y/n had gotten glimpses at it — mainly when he was playing video games. More often than not in bed. But nothing too crazy. Call her crazy but she very much loved when he would snap and treat her like a whore. 

     Of course, the one day she was extremely needy and just needed her boyfriend to essentially use her, but he was busy. Barely any time to talk. Why not send him a couple of photos and messages for when he had a second? 

     She pulled out his favorite set of lingerie— a light pink ruffle set— and changed into it, dolling up with a bit of makeup and doing her hair. Felix loved lingerie in general. He was always looking at them and buying the little sets. His favorites were the cute pink ones. If she wanted attention, this was a good way to get it.

     Situating herself back on the bed and snapping a few pictures before sending one his way. Can’t give him everything at once!

     She waited a couple more hours before sending him another. Even though he didn’t respond to the first. The second one got a response immediately. 

Lixie🩵: Pumpkin… Y/n💞: Hi baby😊 Lixie🩵: What’s going on? Are you needy? Y/n💞: 🤔 Maybe. Maybe just want to leave my amazing boyfriend a little gift when he has a break Lixie🩵: Your little gift is gonna get me in trouble in this makeup chair Y/n💞: Is my baby hard🤭 Lixie🩵: Y/n. I only have a couple more hours. I can’t finish this shoot if you’re teasing me Y/n💞: I'm not teasing☹️. This would be teasing. 

     Y/n smiled as she dropped a video into the chat thread. There was no response until a couple hours later saying he was on his way home. Y/n smiled at the message. She’d thrown on one of his favorite t-shirts and waited. Mostly pretending to be busy getting dinner ready for them. Until she heard the front door open and then close. 

     She walked out of the kitchen and looked at her boyfriend. Once Felix got her in his sight, game over. 

     In seconds, he had her pinned against the nearest wall and lips sucking on her neck as he pushed his shirt up over her breasts. 

     “Lix,” Y/n whined as he bit a particular spot on her neck. 

     “So goddamn needy today you had to act like a fucking whore while I was working.”

     His deep voice vibrated against her skin. That combined with the degrading made her heat up and her pussy clench. God did she love when he dropped his innocent angel act. 

    Felix pulled the shirt off her and tossed it to the ground, hands grabbing her hips and grinding against her as he marked her neck. Her hand reached up his shirt to feel his abs only for him to grab her arms and pin them harshly against the wall. 

     Felix pulled away from her neck, tightening his grip on her wrist. “Bedroom, knees, now.” Was all he said before letting her go. 

     Y/n smiled to herself as she quickly made her way to the bedroom. Felix wasn’t far behind her as she settled on her knees by the side of their bed. Felix smiled as he walked over to her, tilting her head up before leaning down and kissing her lips briefly. 

     “Face the bed.” He told her before he sat down on the edge of the bed. 

     Y/n did as he instructed as he took a second to reach into the bedside table and grab out a pair of pink leather cuffs. Originally they bought the toy for him but no harm in using them on her. 

     Felix set the cuffs down next to him for a second before pulling his hard cock out of his pants. Y/n bit back a smile as he grabbed the back of her head, pulling her forward just a bit. He tapped the tip of his cock on her lips, smearing some of the precum on her lips like lipgloss. Y/n kept her mouth shut as she looked up at him, not being able to keep her smile hidden.

     “Open up baby,” Felix was trying his hardest to slip back to his softer demeanor. Y/n shook her head at him.

     Felix huffed as he looked into her eyes before pulling her head back by her hair, harshly. “Want me to be mean tonight? That what all the teasing was about earlier? Need me to fuck the brat out of you? Treat you like a whore?”

     Y/n nodded, his deep voice making her cunt even wetter.

     “Words darling.” He pulled harshly on her hair again.

     “Yes! Please Lixie!” Y/n yelped before he released her hair

     “Good girl.” Felix chuckled as he leaned down, kissing her again. Tongue slipped into her mouth immediately as his hand came around to hold her jaw.

     He pulled back, droll connecting their lips together. Felix smiled before licking the thin strand from her lips. “Tongue out.”

     Y/n stuck her tongue out between her closed lips. Felix offered a quick smile before leaning forward again, hand moving down to her neck before biting her tongue. The longer she kept her mouth closed, the harder he bit down, keeping eye contact with her. 

     Eventually, she opened her mouth and Felix let go, keeping a hold on her neck. “That wasn't so hard, was it?” 

     Y/n shook her head as much as she could, keeping her mouth open and tongue out for him. Felix smiled before letting a glob of spit fall from his lips and onto her tongue.

     “That’s my good whore.” His small hand moved back to the back of her head before pushing his hard cock to the back of her throat. Y/n gagged around him as he leaned forward a bit and wrapped the leather cuffs around her wrist behind her back. Holding her in place and making her choke on his cock before he sat back up and pulled her off him. 

     Y/n took a sharp intake of air as Felix gripped her roots. “Look at me baby,” Felix commanded. 

     Y/n looked up at him as he stood up and pushed her back onto his cock. Throwing his head back at the feeling of her throat contracting around him. He pulled his hips back before thrusting back into her mouth. Y/n blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over her lashline. 

     “Poor baby gonna cry from daddy’s dick in her throat?” Felix laughed as he noticed a few tears fall down her cheeks, mascara starting to smear under her eyes. Something about him calling himself “daddy” along with his deep voice was damn near panty-dropping.

     Felix thrusted in and out of her mouth faster, making her take him down the base of his cock. Her drool coated his shaft and dripped down to his balls. It wasn't long till he was bobbing her head to match his thrust as his dick twitched in her throat. He thrusted in a few more times before sinking down into her throat and cumming. His head tilted down and revealed in pleasure before pulling out and letting her catch her breath. 

     Felix took the chance to discard his shirt before pulling her up and bending her over the bed. Y/n turned her head to look back at him as he pulled her panties down, landing a hard smack on her ass. She jumped a bit as he rubbed the area, soothing the pain. 

     “My pretty baby’s soaking like a slut for me,” Felix hummed as he looked between her legs at her glistening cunt. Running two fingers between her folds before pushing them into her. 

     “Lix,” Y/n moaned while he leaned down, placing a kiss along her spine. His fingers

Slowly worked in and out of her. Never once sped up, no matter how much she begged him to. She tried her best to fuck herself as he was thrusting into her only to pull his fingers out.

     “Not tonight baby,” Felix growled in her ear

     “Please, let me come please,” Y/n whined

     “Do you want to come or do you wanna be used?” His hand grabbed the back of her throat

     “Both!” Yn whined as he grinded his hard cock against her ass

     “Both? That’s not how it works baby.”     “Please, Daddy. I need you. I’ll be good.”

     Felix said nothing as he pulled back from her body. Y/n was going to question him before he flipped her onto her back. Arms behind her giving her an arch as he pulled her panties completely off her legs and tossed them next to her on the bed. He spread her legs before leaning down to her.

     “Promise you’ll be good for me?” Felix asked before mouthing her nipple through the sheer fabric of the bralette

     “Yes.” Y/n whined

     Felix hummed in response before he pulled away, “Still need to punish you for earlier.”

     His hand came down on her inner thigh, making her jump and close her legs slightly before he spread them again. He repeated the action on her other thigh, going back and forth a couple of times before rubbing the reddening areas as he looked into her teary eyes.

     “You come when I say you can cum baby. Got it?”

     “Yes,” Y/n sniffled

     “Yes, what?” He asked, this time slapping her cunt and making her head fall back further into the mattress

     “Yes, Daddy!” Y/n cried

     “Good girl,” Felix smiled as he rubbed the tip of his cock through her folds

     Y/n looked back down at him with teary eyes. Felix slid the tip in before grabbing her thighs and pinning them down onto the bed as he slid in further. Bottoming out inside her and giving her a moment to adjust since he hadn’t stretched her out for him.

     Y/n tried to wiggle her hips but it was almost impossible in the position he had her in. And he just slapped her thighs when she tried. Slowly he started moving. Thrusting in and out of her at a steady pace. Hands holding her thighs as his hips snapped into her. 

     “Feel so fucking good. Gonna let me cum in this little cunt all I want tonight?”

     “Please. Fill me up, daddy.”

     Felix smiled as he picked up his pace a bit. Hands moving up from her legs to her hips, getting more of a grip. He used it to his advantage, pulling her to meet his hips. His eyes focused between her legs and her breasts bouncing in the bralette. 

     “Wanna cum…” Y/n moaned as her walls clenched around him

     “Not yet pretty. Don’t get all greedy just because I decided to finally fuck your pathetic pussy.”

     “Please, please Daddy. Can’t hold it.”

     “Poor thing,” Felix chuckled as he pulled out of her, ruining her orgasm. 

     “No no no no,” Y/n cried, “‘M sorry. Won’t cum yet.” 

     Felix did nothing to head her whining as he wrapped his hand around his cock, jerking himself off over her while she begged for him to put it back in. Pulling her legs to her chest in hopes it would entice him. 

     “My pretty cock whore,” Felix laughed before spitting into her pussy and then shoving his dick back into her. Both moaned from the new angle. 

     Felix took his previous pace back as his orgasm approached. Leaning over her body a bit to better angle into her before cumming in her. Felix groaned as he slowed down as he painted her walls with his cum. He slowed to a stop and enjoyed the feeling of her wrapped around him before slowly starting to thrust in and out of her. Fucking his cum deeper into her.

     “Shit,” Y/n moaned once he picked up his pace.

     “Filthy little mouth,” Felix groaned, slapping her thigh again.

     Felix spread her legs open more, still keeping them near her chest. His hands reached up to grope her breasts through the fabric before pulling the bra down, exposing her fully to him. Fingers pinching her nipples, stimulating her a bit more.

     Her legs started shaking and falling to the side without her boyfriend holding them in place. Felix grabbed her thighs and held them down as he repositioned himself to pound into her sensitive hole. Y/n gasped and started begging him again to let her cum.

     “Gonna trap me in your pussy baby? Keep yourself full?” Felix asked as her walls clenched around him

     Words were barely coming out of her at this point. God how Felix wished he could take a picture. That was a conversation for later though.

     Rather he opted to move one hand down to play with her clit. Rubbing quick small circles into the little bud. Reveling in her screams

     “Please let me cum, pleasepleaseplease.”

     “Go ahead, baby. Show me how much of a whore you are for my cock love.”

     A couple more thrusts and small figure eights later and she was released all over cock. Her orgasm mixed with his previous, coating his cock down to the base as he kept going.

     Felix didn’t let up. Still playing with her clit and pounding into her. Fucking her harder as she rode her high, quickly building her next one. His eyes meet her fucked out ones for a moment. “‘S too much daddy,” Y/n babbled

     “What do we say when something to much baby?”

     Y/n stayed silent, except for her moans. Felix gave it a few beats, just in case their safeword slipped from her lips. But it never did. He smiled and pressed on

     “You like having daddy overstimulate you? Don’t you baby?”

     Y/n nodded as she let out a particularly loud moan when his tip hit the right spot inside of her. The stimulation from that and his fingers made her cum a second time just before he finished inside her again.

     His hips slowly rolled to a stop, letting their orgasms die down and juices mix. Felix pulled out after a few moments of catching his breath. He gently put her legs down in a more comfortable position and turned her onto her side to release her wrists from the leather cuffs. He readjusted them so he was lying against the headboard with her on his chest. Placing light kisses on her head and rubbing her back with one hand and one of her wrists with the other.

     “You with me baby?” Felix asked

     “Yeah,” Y/n mumbled, “Thank you lix.”

     “I wasn’t too rough with you? Not to mean?”

     “Not at all bubs,” Y/n propped herself up to look at him. “It felt good.”

     Y/n kissed his chest before moving a bit to peck his lips.

     “Just making sure pumpkin. Let’s go get cleaned up and order some dinner. How’s that sound?” Felix asked

     “Sounds perfect.”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[star-stilinski]

stiles with virgin reader? maybe she's like insecure or like is just scared he'll look at her differently 😩😩 everytime i watch the eichen house basement scene i literally die because he is so sweet and gentle and GHRHHSHEHDH

okay so i actually have that written from before i deleted my blog... would you guys want me to write another?! i'll repost the one i have but this concept is really super fun to me and i like writing it a lot so... maybe you guys would want to see more?? anyway here's the old one!

☆

yep, stiles is perfect. dominant, but just to guide you. observant and overly educated (he once spent an all nighter researching female pleasure and orgasms. he stayed a virgin for a long time after, but at least he knew!). he wants you to feel good.

i feel like he had a conversation with allison once when she was really frustrated with scott where she basically ranted about how he was great in bed, really, but he sometimes got too excited and forgot about her until later. or his wearwolfness made him a bit rough. stiles just kinda stood there, but he was determined to keep that from being his reviews when he finally got laid. it was very educational.

set right before season 4.

you're reading up on the spanish mafia on your bed while stiles types away on his computer with one hand and breaks to texts scott with the other. he seems to be especially stimulated today.

"i think my excuse will be that we're camping." he mumbles randomly, setting his phone down face-up to take a swig from your water bottle. you frown. he smiles. "when we go get derek."

"for your dad?" you set the library book on the floor and scoot up on your bed, sitting back against the pillows.

"yeah. he's all worried i'm isolating myself after... everything. so he'll like that anyway. hey, scott invited us to the lake later tonight, wanna go?" your boyfriend talks so quick you almost get dizzy. that subject change was so stiles though, and seeing him as himself after those worrying days of the possessed, zombie-eyed shell of a man he was makes your chest feel fuzzy.

but at the mention of swimming, you glance away from him. you hadn’t been feeling super awesome about your body lately. It’s just… stiles is amazing, really, but he never says much about your looks and you’re scared he’s not into that part of you. It’s not like you need to be constantly hit on, but knowing that he wanted you in every way would be… well, it would make you feel better than you do.

so you hesitate, at the thought of being in a swimsuit in front of everyone. “uh, i dunno, i have a lot of homework.”

he laughs and his eyebrows shoot up. "what? we got ahead on, like, everything. did you fall behind again?”

"okay, first off, we did not get ahead on everything. we did everything due this week. you’re just used to waiting until the night before to rush through. second of all, i’m not really feeling the lake right now.”

“why not?” he frowns, tilting his head at you. you roll your neck and sigh, wishing you hadn’t said anything. It was so annoying to try and explain it.

“i mean…” you shift uncomfortably on your bed. “i don’t know. i’m just feeling weird lately.”

stiles stands, grabbing a stray pen to fiddle with as he stretches his legs, pacing your bedroom floor. "yeah, that's what you say, don't you? that you’re feeling ‘weird’.”

"you're weird." you deflect, watching him pace. he likes it when you do that, you both realized one day a long time ago when his hair was buzzed and you had braces. a lot has changed since then, but he still liked to know that you’re listening when he has to move around.

"and yet here you sit, after inviting me over to listen to me ramble." he teases back, throwing you a look before turning to walk the other side of the floor. he scans the pictures and posters on your wall, back turned to you. "seems like my weird is good weird and yours is bad weird."

you're thankful he isn't watching as you flush a light pink color in the cheeks. it's the stupidest stuff getting you flustered recently. the other day he said 'atta girl' to you and you were still blushing ten minutes later. kira actually thought you were sick. 

you know why. Part of you just wants to ask him, but a larger part of you assumes that -even as his girlfriend- he’ll be grossed out if you asked to have sex. He’s just not into you like that.

stiles swivels around to look at you, frowning curiously. "you went quiet."

"oh, um," you shift on the bed and fiddle with the hem of your shirt. he watches you do so with a look on his face before stepping closer to the edge of the bed while you scramble to remember what you were talking about. "your weird is tolerable weird."

he smirks and scoffs but it's kind of a laugh, one that makes your stomach swoop pleasantly. "what makes yours bad weird?"

"it’s nothing, sti’.” you fiddle with one of your stuffed animals, growing antsy under his gaze. “just thoughts.”

you feel the bed dip beside you as stiles sits, feeling his shoulder brush with yours. there's plenty of room on the bed. you know he did it on purpose.

"i like to know your thoughts.”

"yeah, well, sometimes i prefer to keep them in my head." you huff, still not looking at him. “and anyway, they’re just-”

"weird?" he interrupts and you look up at him. he's smirking, brows up, eyes sparkly.

you frown at his cockiness. you were going to say weird, but still. you can hear him silently asking you to elaborate.

"you’re not allowed to get all pitying, okay?" you feel yourself about to spill anyway, so you might as well tell him. it would usually take a lot more encouragement for you to say anything, but it's stiles and he's using his stupid pretty eyes on you and you trust him with your life. “lately i just feel kinda… just like, um, not great, i guess? i’m just scared i’m not doing enough for you, or something’s wrong with me because you never say anything about my looks and i dont need you to, but if you’re unsatisfied i want to change that because i want you to be happy in every area to do with me.”

stiles is silent for a moment. you look up and catch him look away from you. he frowns and looks back, meeting your gaze head on.

"that's not weird.” he says, quietly, brows upturned. “you… wow, you’re dense.”

you laugh abruptly at the jab stiles pulled, embarrassed. "stiles! I’m not upset or anything, i just dont want you to not be into the way i look. which might be unrealistic, i guess. not everyone is going to be physically attracted to me. that's fine."

"you say that a lot." his tone drops to something more thoughtful. you give him a face and tilt your head.

"what? no i don't."

"yeah, you do. 'oh, well, lydia's the beauty out of all of us anyway.' 'malia, you should dance with kira to blend in. that would be casual and guys will find you two hot, anyway.' 'that isn't my color.' 'i'm breaking out.' 'i'm bloated.' 'i don't think anyone would want to see me in something that revealing.'"

you feel heat crawl up your neck as he quotes stuff you've said the past few weeks. you scramble to make him wrong. "stiles, literally all of those were different sentences."

"no, they were not." he shifts, like he's revving up to explain something. you press yourself against the pillows to create space between you two. he notices. "you keep saying you think you're ugly. just the other day, a girl you didn't even know came up to you and said you were pretty and when she walked away you said she was lying. i remember, you were convinced. thought it was just to be nice because you had let her cut you in line for drinks. it was at the movies."

you look away from him, narrowing your eyes. you're embarrassed right now, and he knows. why isn't he stopping? "she was lying, stiles. you're a guy, you can't see that stuff like girls do."

"i'm a guy, i'm not blind." he gets hotter in his voice. both in tone and in attractiveness, getting sterner. saying 'i'm right' without saying it. "are you blind? you're so pretty. like, objectively."

"stiles, can you drop this? I shouldn’t have said anything." you curl in on yourself, drawing your knees up to hide your body. you feel so exposed, like he tugged the part of you out that you don't really like to talk about.

stiles goes soft. like a flip being switched, he loses his fight and shifts to face you better, placing a hand on your knee. "hey, i'm sorry."

you desperately want to go back to when he was a safe distance away and pacing your room and teasing you. you hate it when you ruin the mood with your feelings. you hate how much you love it when he touches you, especially since he'd never want you the way that you want him.

"it's fine, i promise." you claw around your brain for something to change the subject, but you feel it short circuit as stiles' hand begins to hold your cheek. he lifts your chin to look at him. you feel your cheeks flame hot and your whole body warm at his touch. you stare at him as you feel your resolve practically melt away.

"do you think you're pretty?" he asks, curiously. like you're something he doesn't fully understand yet, but he's on his way and he's getting excited to speed up the process. it makes you nervous.

"umm... i don't know..." you don't think so. you're very confident that you're ugly. but telling stiles that is letting him win. and you don't know what you'll do with a cocky stiles when he's already ballsy enough to corner you like he is now.

"i do." he says with finality. stiles gets closer and his hand leaves your cheek, only to part your legs gently and crawl in between them. "i think you’re hot. and pretty. and when you focus you nibble your lip and it kinda makes me want to pin you to the nearest flat surface and eat you out.”

now your legs are on either side of stiles and he's leaning over you, eyes roaming over your face hungrily. you stutter dumbly for a moment, face flushed and feeling like a cornered bunny getting stared down by a wolf. his scent becomes stronger and you resist the urge to ask him to do just that, opting instead for feeling like a gross creep and fretting if you’ve shaved well enough.

"you don’t have to say that..." you trail off, still flustered at stiles' boldness. "i just didn't really know what you thought about my looks, i guess. b-but i guess that’s kinda conceited, huh?" you laugh weakly at your joke. stiles doesn't laugh at all. instead, he watches you quietly for a moment, a hand landing on your knee again.

"i don’t say anything because i never want you to feel uncomfortable." he states breathily. you squirm under him as he leans forward, a determined look in his eyes. “do you want me to tell you what i think about you?”

"stiles, c'mon." you turn your head away. maybe you can resist this question by acting pathetic. it's not really working, and stiles just gently guides your chin so that you're looking at him again. he knows the answer. he kinda has to, doesn't he? otherwise he wouldn't be doing this.

"I want to hear you say it." he looks into your eyes like it would actually literally kill him if you said no. you feel that rush you get when he talks like this, all quiet and deep like he's breathless. and despite you thinking that stiles thought of you as a low-physicality girlfriend, you find yourself nodding slightly.

"yes, i do."

stiles sighs out like you just healed every one of his wounds and leans forward, shifting himself so that he's propped on his hands and knees above you. one hand moves to your waist and the other holds his weight as he leans down.

the kiss sends a spark down your spine. as he goes back in again, kissing you harder, deeper, gently guiding your mouth open, you think it's better than any other kiss you've experienced. his hand inches your shirt up to reveal your stomach and he pulls back.

"you're beautiful. okay? i feel like you're not hearing me. i want you to see it." he says, still upset about that. you're still a bit flustered by the quick change of events, so you don’t respond.

he frowns at your lack of response but it softens as your hands slide onto his neck, pulling him down again. he smiles and goes back in for another kiss.

this one's even more than the last. stiles' tongue... well, it works. that's all you can describe as he makes you gasp in surprised pleasure from just a kiss. you can feel his slightly cocky smirk as he kisses again, but it gets lost when you rake your nails lightly against the back of his neck. he manuvers you both further down the bed so you're laying more comfotably and kisses you deeply again, like he can't get enough. 

he presses his knee up against your core as you kiss and it sends a pulse of pleasure up your body, making you pinch your brows. stiles pulls back abruptly, and you're both panting. you can see your spit making his lips glisten prettily and you want to hide under the covers and pull him back into you at the same time.

"hey," stiles dawns a little smile. it's sweet, and when he tugs at the hem of your shirt gently your heart flutters. "can i take this off?"

you pause at that. if he takes your shirt off, he'll have to see you shirtless. you didn't wear a nice bra today, just the grey t-shirt bra you got at walmart. but he wants to see you shirtless. and you want to see him shirtless.

then again, you’re no pornstar-level body. maybe stiles will be disappointed. or laugh. no, no, he won’t laugh. but if he doesn’t like it, he won’t say anything, and you’ll be stuck wondering what he’s thinking again...

"i can hear you overthinking, you know." stiles' big palm lands on your bare waist, his thumb rubbing your skin softly. "we can stop if you want."

you meet his eyes. he looks like he really means it, like he'll pretend none of this happened if you asked. his hand leaves your waist, cups your cheek, and his thumb presses against your bottom lip softly. you breathe in. "i don't want to stop."

he nods, smiling. it's crooked and you almost giggle because of course stiles is excited to keep making out. and then his gaze shifts and he takes his hand off your cheek to tug on your shirt again. his brows lift in question.

"uhm, yeah." you nibble your lip. fuck it. "take it off."

"that was not enthusiastic enough."

"i-?! don't blame me if you don't like what you see! i just don't want you to be unimpressed!" you squeak defensively. he laughs and pulls you up just enough to lift your shirt off.

"you can be so obtuse sometimes." he mumbles as he tosses your shirt out of the way. you're propped up on your forearms when he turns back around and you can practically hear the breaks in his brain screech to a halt.

his eyes roam your body in a way that makes you flush and his hands aren't much better, spreading over your now-exposed middle like they have a mind of their own. he lets out a breath and blinks a few times, one hand sliding up to cup your bra. “s’ this okay?”

you swallow and nod. it is. really. you like the way stiles’ hands feel on you and how his eyes track over you like he wants to devour you but doesn’t want to hurt you. you like how eager he is to touch you. it makes you feel like maybe he really wants to.

he leans over you and presses a kiss to your neck. you tilt your head back on instinct as he grows more persistent, pressing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and nibbling your neck to pull a sound out of you. you gasp when he nibbles your earlobe and he reacts positively, hands getting more confident as he cups your breasts or you waist or whatever he can get ahold of.

you feel him press his knee up against you again and it makes you jolt momentarily. your thoughts are getting hazier, you feel yourself relaxing every second you spend underneath him. his hand travels up your back and finds your bra clasp and he kisses down your collarbone as he undoes it.

“you’re so pretty.” he starts, pulling back. you blink up at him as he sits over you. “you are, I don’t care what you think. I can’t believe you’re so convinced otherwise.”

he pauses, giving you time to reject him or tell him to stop or do anything. instead, you tug at his shirt, pulling it up.

he takes it off immediately and you press your hands against his bare skin. “stiles, i’ve never done anything before. I’m not gonna be good.”

he scoffs and shakes his head, toying with your loose bra strap. it’s still on, unclasped. he’s waiting.

“you’re doing so good right now, idiot.” he hums affectionately as he traces the seam of your bra, fingers brushing your breast. you suck in a breath. he watches your chest rise. “i’ve, um, thought about this before. a lot. and it’s ten times better having you under me than daydreaming about it.”

you blush at that. he traces the underside of your breast, fingers slipping under your bra to feel your skin. “I want to make you feel good.” he whispers, meeting your eyes. you nod slowly, fingers running along his abdomen as you admire him.

“you do?” you ask, as if he wasn’t practically pinning you to the bed already. he nods eagerly and it spurs you on. you shift, slowly pulling your bra off. he helps you and tosses it away with your shirt, but his eyes never leave you. instead, they dart all over your chest, hands cupping your tits. he sighs and his thumbs swipe over your pebbling nipples, making you squeak in shock.

“you’re so beautiful. ‘m gonna make you believe it, okay?” he says with finality, maneuvering so that he can kiss your breasts. you gasp when his tongue flicks over your nipple and he pulls up just to envelop your mouth. “you sound so pretty. just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

you’re embarrassed at how easy it is for you to make noise and how eager you are to listen to his instructions. you sink into the pillows and let your eyes flutter shut as stiles kisses you. it's soft and slow, but it makes you a puddle anyway.

stiles gets the both of you down to your underwear shortly after. his hands are incessantly gentle and when he does something new he leaves a sort of gap for you to tell him to stop.

you never do.

he's mouthing at your neck when he first presses his long fingers against your clothed clit, and you sigh lightly in relief. the pressure was more than enough and you had completely soaked through your panties anyway. he pulls away from your neck to watch you as he rubs a slow circle against your nerves, humming in approval when your lips part and your brows pinch.

"does that feel good?" he questions quietly, still rolling a circle against you with his middle finger. you nod and hear him swallow as his eyes roam from your exposed tits to your wet spot and everywhere in between, locking eyes with you at the end.

"i can't wait to hear you. you're gonna sound so good." he mumbles, mostly to himself as he slowly pulls your panties off. you whine in embarrassment and cover your face with your hand.

"don't say stuff like that!" you huff, scrubbing your face like it will make the blushing subside. "you're getting your hopes up."

"jesus christ." he groans, and it sounds super fucking hot. you peek through your fingers and see him looking at you like you've wounded him. "you've exceeded every single one of my very high hopes i've been getting off to since freshman year so far. you-i mean, look at what you're doing to me."

he gently takes the hand you're using to cover your face and guides it against his bulge. he's hard as a rock, and when you press your hand against him he tilts his head back and sighs out. "seriously, you're so gorgeous. and you're a great kisser. you're doing so good. i mean..."

with your panties off and him in between your legs, he has easy access as he slides two fingers through your slick. you can both hear it in the quiet of the room and you feel that heat rush of embarrassment again, eyes widening as he literally moans. "you're so wet. just for me."

and as he presses his finger to your clit, it feels ten times better than it did with your panties on. you gasp and your eyes flutter closed as you whimper "god," completely on accident. his hands aren't amazingly skillful, but the way he watches your reactions and tweaks his performance, fucking a finger into you and keeping his pace on your bundle of nerves-it's almost hotter than a guy who isn't looking to improve, because stiles is adjusting things to your preference. not just what every woman would generally like.

"how's it feel, pretty girl?" he hums against your stomach, kissing down your body. you don't know what the hell he's doing but most of your mental focus is on how stiles is making you feel, anyway.

"feels good, sti'," you gasp, feeling his mouth against your thigh. he moans when you say his name before sucking a hickey onto your inner thigh. your eyes snap open and you prop yourself up to look at him, eyes wide. "are you leaving a mark?"

stiles looks up at you, and then at your neck, and then your tits. he pulls away from your skin slowly and mumbles "uhm..."

"whatever, just... don't make it ugly. hickeys can look so weird." you flop back against the pillows and sigh, but your thoughts are cut short as stiles-

"oh, fuck," you moan, rolling your hips against stiles' tongue unconsciously as he presses his mouth on your clit. he flicks his tongue and you gasp out another moan, hips lifting.

his big hands land on your bare hips and press them back down, holding them there as he looks up at you. meanwhile, his tongue is laying claim on you in a way no one ever has, and he's making you feel better than you ever have. you sit up on your forearms to watch him and he sucks on your clit, making your eyes roll back. "stiles, oh god, that feels really good-"

he moans at your noises, mouth moving with more fervor against you, hands pulling you closer to him. he's doing everything perfectly, or so you thought, until he pulls a hand away from your hip and presses two fingers inside of you. it's a stretch, but it feels amazing, and your brain is fried as you feel yourself hurtling towards that edge-

and then he pulls back.

you look down at the speed of light, glaring at him on accident. "wha-? why-?"

his eyes are dark, something you haven't seen in them before. his mouth is covered in your arousal and he's sitting up, leaning over you. "i really want you to finish with me inside you. does... is that...?"

your previous annoyance falls away and you bob your head enthusiastically. "yeah. yes. please."

he grins and licks some of your slick off of his lips before kissing you sweetly. when he pulls back, you look down to take his boxers off but realize he took them off already. you also realize you've never seen stiles' dick before.

"your staring is making me nervous." he teases, rubbing your thigh. you blink and look back up at him, smiling sheepishly. he smiles back, and it's crooked, and he's tilting his head and panting and sometimes his eyes are wandering to your tits before snapping back up to your eyes. and.

"you're the hottest guy in the whole world, i think." you hum, reaching up to cup his cheek. his eyes go wide and he laughs, kissing your palm.

"is my dick that big?"

"not what i meant."

"it could be."

you laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. "'s it gonna hurt?"

his eyes go soft, a bit worried. "proabably for a second, but we'll go at your pace so you can stretch out properly, and if it's too much i can just finish the way i started, kay?"

you nod. stiles would never, ever hurt you. and with the way he's looking at you and how he moans when you feel good and how his hands always have to find a way to pleasure you... something in you switches and you realize he really wants you to like this. that he's being honest when he says he's thought about it a lot.

so as he quickly rolls on a condom (which included him admitting that he usually grabs one before he leaves to see you) and presses into you -slowly, slowly- you try your best to relax against the pillows. it's not unbearable, but you have to ask him to pause sometimes. he always does, and layers praises on top of each other while he does it.

"you're doing so well. just breathe, okay? just like that. holy shit, you feel amazing- b-but how do you feel? you alright?" he rambles halfway inside. you nod, breathing deeply.

"it actually feels... good..." you close your eyes and pull on his waist, urging him forward slowly. he bottoms our and gasps out a moan at the same time you do, feeling him reach the spot you're never able to. his hand snakes in between the two of you and presses against your clit. you gasp out his name, tilting your head back. it's almost too much.

almost.

as you urge him to move, he presses slow circles against your bundle of nerves and kisses any patch of your bare skin he can get ahold of.

"just relax, baby- fuck, god, you know how may times i've thought about this?" he pulls out slowly and pushes back in, and all of his stimulating mixed with his moans and his words... he's doing a good fucking job, that's for sure.

you moan when he moves a little quicker, gasping. he presses his tongue into your open mouth and kisses you sloppily, going a bit faster with every thrust. you whine when he flicks your clit almost crudely, pressing your head back against the mattress and gasping, "faster, sti'"

he obeys without further encouragement, snapping his hips a little quicker than comfortable. you feel your body adjust and watch stiles as he leans back to admire you.

his eyes rake over you, one hand cupping your breast and kneading it softly. he lets out a higher pitched moan than you've heard from him when he sees the point where your bodies connect, slowing his thrusts just to watch. "you're perfect, i swear to god."

you can't respond, not when he's already leaning down to overstimulate your nipples. your brain feels like it's in the other room and has been replaced with stiles' hands, almost solely focused on his kneading of your tits and his circling of your clit. his mouth makes its way back up your neck and he kisses you again, still with very little concern for the proprieties of it.

it's sudden, the feeling that crawls up on you as his hips snap quicker and praise falls from his mouth in between kisses. you gasp for air and tug his head back by pulling his hair, causing a loud moan from him that you'll have to unpack later. you're arching your back, whimpering "faster, faster," squeezing your eyes shut as you feel that sweet release low in your belly. he speeds up his hips, but more importantly his fingers on your clit. your vision goes white for a split second as you cry out, chanting his name like a prayer. you hear him moaning too, and it only helps you as he rides you through your orgasm.

"holy shit," you gasp as you come down. he nods, pulling out of you carefully, and you both lock eyes. you're smiling and he's kissing you and everything feels kind of perfect for a split second. then you remember him, and feel like an idiot. "oh, did you, i totally forgot, did you-"

"don't worry," he laughs sheepishly and glances away from you. "i did. it was, um, when you pulled me away from kissing you."

"when i pulled your hair?" you ask incredulously. he buries his face into your neck and groans.

"maybe we should focus on you again." he kisses up your neck and all over your face. "you did so good, you're so perfect and pretty and oh my god you thought i wasn't attracted to you. you're so out of it sometimes."

"stop insulting me! you never said anything!" you defend, slapping his shoulder. he laughs and cups your face.

"i'm going to say every thought i have now. okay?"

"i feel like this isn't going to end well..."

he grins mischievously. "you look so good when you're cumming. let me make you make that face again?"

you close your eyes and sigh. "yeah, i knew it. this is going to be the death of me."

he laughs, loudly, excitedly, and kisses you. "it's funny how you think death will help. i bet you'd be a sexy ghost. oh, fuck, now i'm thinking about that. yep, it's hot."

you shout and push him off of you, laughing.

☆

when i wrote this originally, i wasn't super happy with it. even now i'm like... ehhh.... i dunno.... so if you guys want more of stiles with virgin/inexperienced reader, i have a lot of ideas and would totally post some if given the 'okay' from my fellow stiles lovers! let me know!!

(please say you want more because i want to make more lowkey tho just lowkey like idec but please)

[driaswrld]

city boys! — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 1.4k

summary : you go grocery shopping with satoru and suguru and they're just idiots tbvh (gn! reader)

part of : the star paradox collection.

notes : i have shamelessly brought my calculator to a kfc drive thru and yes i do it at the grocery store bcus i have dyscalculia math sucks don't @ me. also i have so much satosugu brainrot i can't breathe. yay to the satoru themed era of the blog :))

other : this can be read as platonic or poly just however you wanna see it! (like three curse words i think - mentions of cunnilingus) I SWEAR ITS NOT WHAT U THINK

current casette : city boys - burna boy

There’s something about summer that makes Satoru and Suguru hang off your shoulders more than they ought to. In the most mundane situations too.

“—and it’s not even that serious!” Satoru groans, dragging his feet on the floor, reluctantly marching behind where you’re pushing the trolley. “Who cares what kind of curry it is? Curry is curry.” He reasons with a huff.

Suguru nudges you in the middle of the supermarket aisle from time to time, pointing out things you usually buy, brands you usually prefer over most, and you grab whatever you find remotely necessary and toss in the cart, both of you collectively ignoring Satoru’s whines.

“C’monnn… Listen to me!”

You pick up a can of diced pineapple and look at Suguru. “Nah, that one’s too sour,” he murmurs and you put it back instantly. Afterall, Suguru’s the best taste tester you could ever ask for. Satoru just scarfs down everything in a forty mile radius.

“The design on the can was pretty though, ‘s a shame.” You sigh.

Satoru’s groans fall on deaf ears.

You turn a corner and head into the fruit aisle. Suguru’s eyes flick to something over your head and his steps falter for a moment. While you’re pushing the trolley ahead, a soft smack! noise comes from behind you and before you can turn your head—

“No! I wanted the other one—”

“This one’s better—”

You ignore them, albeit barely with all the commotion both boys are causing in the supermarket. Leaning over an array of cherries on display, you hum to yourself, carefully picking the pretty ones to add to the cart, perusing at the other assortment of fruit and if even possible, Satoru and Suguru’s bickering gets louder.

“That tastes like shit—” “You look like shit—”

“You kiss your mom with that mouth?”

“You eat pussy with that mouth?”

You strain your head forward as an old lady strolls past, her eyes a little wide and eyebrows knitted with a look of utter shock and you shrink. With a stiff, humorless giggle you turn your back to her, suddenly finding a bunch of grapes oddly interesting.

Embarrassing.

And when you breathe a breath of relief as the old lady passes by, Satoru swings his arm over your shoulder, pouting. “Suguru’s a dumbass—” He’s cut off by a smack to the back of his head, and despite yourself you can’t help but laugh a little.

“Will you two just behave and,” you shift out of Satoru’s hold to take the mini package of ridiculously sweet m&m infused rice krispies he has in his other hand.

You toss it into the cart. “—help me pick some stuff for my fruit salad?” Satoru shrugs with a sigh, he hates shopping. It’s so boring—

You laugh and pull up the list you typed up on your phone : Raspberries, check. Kiwi, check. Watermelon, check. Grapes…

“What else do you need?” Suguru asks, and he sidesteps Satoru, leaning casually on the trolley, one foot pushing it forward and backward as you look through the fruits. “Grapes—” you murmur, suddenly feeling indecisive as you look through the different bunches. Green or Purple. Purple or Green.

Satoru pushes his sunglasses down to the curve of his nose. “Green, ‘s prettier,” he says and you turn to grab a bunch of the green grapes as Suguru straightens his body, pretending to look over your shoulder as he sneakily drops a package of plain marshmallow rice krispies into the cart. “Yeah, green would make it look way more appealing, wouldn’t it?” You whisper to yourself.

“I saw that—” Satoru begins to say.

“Purple’s better, healthier than the green ones.” Suguru says with a straight face. Behind your back he flips Satoru off.

You shrug your shoulders and grab a small bunch of both. If anything, it’ll be shared well between you and Shoko in the bentos you make. Hopefully she appreciates the struggle.

Sliding your phone unlocked, you glance at the list again as you step off. Grapes, check. Suguru pushes the trolley, following close behind you as Satoru trudges behind him. “Wait—” You halt immediately, and Suguru has to steer the trolley left so he doesn’t run into you, but Satoru steps on the back of Suguru's shoes, and looks away with a bashful whistle.

“Other aisle, we need to turn around.” You say, sliding your phone back into your back pocket. Canned Pineapples. You forgot you put back the last one. “How many damn aisles are there?” Satoru mumbles as you turn and make a beeline for the next corner, going back where the three of you came. Suguru chuckles.

Kneeling, you grab the canned pineapples opposite to the ones Suguru said were sour. Hopefully that much distance in the store is enough of a difference between the two brands.

You check the list one more time. Pineapples, check.

“Right, that should be it.” You mumble and both boys internally celebrate — well, Satoru makes a show of letting out a long dramatic sigh of relief while Suguru nods.

Taking a look into the cart, Satoru pettily moves his package of rice krispies on the other side of the cart, away from Suguru’s and when Suguru looks at him incredulously, he sticks a tongue out, “Your flavor’s trash.”

Suguru rolls his eyes and is about to push the trolley forward to run him over when he sees you pull out a scientific calculator from your tote.

A scientific calculator. The same one you use for school. “The fu—” Satoru is about to say, and Suguru glances at him, both of them trying to at least read each other’s minds about what the hell is going on.

You however, are so hyper focused on your little task, pushing the buttons of your calculator, tongue poking the inside of your cheek. Satoru and Suguru watch you for all of two minutes. One minute spent with expressions morphing from confused, to even more confused, to utterly amused. The second minute spent snickering quietly and snapping silent pictures for the groupchat.

“Huh, I went over a little.” You hum and though they haven’t wiped the sheer amusement off their faces, they both find themselves intrigued. “By how much?” Suguru asks, quickly sending off the pictures to the groupchat.

“Seven hundred yen.” You reply as you step forward to peer into the cart, willing and ready to discard one unnecessary item to drop the price.

Three of your phones chime. Satoru checks his own notification.

[Gojo Fanclub]

Nanaminn <3 : who added me to this???

Nanaminn <3 : delete my number gojo.

“Bet it’s the curry.” Satoru mumbles absentmindedly, typing at his phone screen. “The curry’s like—” he pauses, shoves his phone in his hoodie pocket and counts silently on his fingers. “A thousand yen or something — they must’ve put the god of curry in there or something.”

“It’s not the curry,” you reason scouring the cart for any discrepancies. And there’s quite a few of them. Including but not limited to some Sakura tarts, sour candies, an extra package of rice krispies—

“The curry powder we picked is five hundred yen, it’s not the curry.” Suguru shrugs, and Satoru leans against one of the shelves of seasoning, letting out a quiet sneeze.

“Bless you— I need to recheck these.” The calculator comes out again as you murmur to yourself, the click clacking of the buttons drowning out your own thoughts.

“I’m just saying— maybe it was the rice krispie Suguru snuck into the cart—” Satoru mumbles, all while he bends his body at the end of the aisle, reaching blindly around to the shelves on the other side.

“You put one in, I was only balancing the trolley weight.” Suguru interrupts, and he turns his head away when you look up from your calculator at him accusingly.

“See?” Satoru grins, almost victoriously as he grasps a package of baumkuchen, wheeling his hand back as he sidesteps Suguru, moving to slide the pastry into the trolley. “Who knows what else’ll just drop into the cart?” And your calculator is forgotten as you snatch the pastry from Satoru’s hand. “Nothing else is dropping into the cart—”

But something else catches your attention as you’re about to scold him.

Two bright green bags, hidden at the bottom of the cart, stuffed under the packaging of Sakura tarts.

“Who the hell put Kenpi chips in here?”

Satoru and Suguru both freeze, and suddenly their accusing fingers are pointed at each other. But instead of scolding them like they expect—

“Should’ve at least put one for me.”

You're never going to the grocery store with them again.

Bonus :

“Satoru’s paying for the extra snacks—”

“Not fair! Suguru shouldn’t get to just stuff his face—”

“Only two of those snacks are mine. Two. Out of ten.”

A notification sounds on the three of your phones.

[Gojo Fanclub]

Nanaminn <3 : is that my calculator that you borrowed???

@todorokies gets the privilege tag cs i told knives ab this first😭

[wilwheaton]

When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.

This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.

I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.

I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.

A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.

I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.

I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.

To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.

But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.

After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.

River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.

I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.

At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).

I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.

My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.

It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.

Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)

But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.

Okay. Back to The Curse.

This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.

One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.

No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”

It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.

I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.

It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).

So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.

My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.

Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.

My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.

The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?

My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.

My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.

Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.

She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.

Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.

But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.

There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.

I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.

I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.

This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.

As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.

Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.

There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).

Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.

[hauntedchoso]

GROUPIE LOVE *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s so sweet swingin’ to the beat when I know that you’re doin’ it all for me…

How the JJK men fuck you after a show ft. [gojo], [geto], [toji], [choso], & [nanami] x [fem reader] nsfw warning. mdni. minors and ageless blogs will be blocked for interacting. cw: breeding in gojo’s, daddy kink, semi-exhibitionism, choking, degradation, name calling. established relationships in all despite the title! a/n: this is a repost from my old blog, which used to be a side blog.

Gojo is the singer. His icy white hair and electric blue eyes are quick to capture the hearts of his screaming fans—but those eyes only search for one person in the crowd. Your heart skipped a beat the moment he stepped onto the stage, and when he finally sees you, he flashes you that award-winning smile, bringing the mic up to his perfect lips. “How are we doing tonight, everyone? We’re going to play a song we’ve never performed live before…”

His presence was magnetic, attracting the attention of hundreds of screaming girls as he sang romantic melodies into the mic. You watched his Adam’s apple bob with each word and the way the veins on his hand stuck out as he clutched the mic tightly. Every lyric he sang told a story, and you knew better than all the other girls in the room—he was telling your story. The story of your sweet nights together, the nights you spent gazing into a sea of cerulean blue behind white eyelashes while basking in Gojo’s presence and the beauty of his voice. It was absolutely beautiful, the sweet vibrato’s and clear pitches that escaped his lips as he serenaded his crowd—but it didn’t compare to the beauty of his voice when he was underneath you. 

“Fuck, baby—just like that…haah, god damn. You’re so damn tight,” he moaned, unable to keep up with the way your ass slammed down on his thighs. The harder you rode him, the more undone he became underneath you—such a stark contrast to the confidence he always held when he took the stage. His long, pretty cock stroked against your gummy walls, his mushroom head grazing your g-spot when you raised yourself high enough, driving you crazy. 

“Satoru,” you mewl, absolutely loving the way his hands grip your thighs for dear life. You guys didn’t have much time; it would only be a few minutes before the rest of the guys returned to the tour bus, where you were holding Gojo as your hostage on the bench-couch in the small kitchenette. You ignored the burning in your muscles as you urged yourself to go faster, not giving him a chance to run away as you brought yourself down repeatedly on his warm cock that was throbbing so deliciously inside your clenching cunt. “Cum in me, daddy, I need it—“

“You better fucking watch it,” he moaned through clenched teeth, frustration seeping into his tone, the grip on your left thigh becoming harder. He couldn’t control how his cock throbbed inside you when he heard the word daddy, and it didn’t help that your luscious tits were bouncing so beautifully in his face. If you weren’t moving so fast, he’d have a nipple in his mouth, swirling his warm tongue around it. Quickly becoming overwhelmed by the way your tight cunt clenched around his raw dick, he squeezed his eyes shut, silently willing himself to last longer than he knew he would. He knew you weren’t on birth control, and if you continued to call him daddy in such a slutty tone…well, you’d probably make him a daddy. 

His frustration only egged you on more. “I want your cum in me so bad…haah, please…I’m such a little slut for you, daddy. Don’t you wanna fill me with your seed—“

Before you could process what was happening, Gojo had your back flat against the couch, nudging your thighs back apart as he slid himself inside you again, a hand wrapped tightly around your throat. “You want my cum, you fucking slut? Want me to breed you like a bitch in heat? Fine, you better lay there and take everything I give you.”

Geto is the guitarist. The way his gorgeous black hair falls around his face as he slings his guitar strap over his shoulder is mesmerizing. His gauged ears are sporting their usual shiny black plugs, which catch the stage lights with each turn of his head. You watch from the side of the stage, hidden from the view of his fans, as his fingers pluck his lucky guitar pick out from between his perfect teeth, bringing the pick down to play a warm-up riff. He gives you one last sly smile, and a sweet, sexy wink before he starts the opening riff to their first song. 

He played his guitar like it was an extension of himself. You watched as his palm slid up and down the instrument’s neck as he followed along to the score, making hundreds of screaming girls howl as he paused and swung it harshly to his right side, flipping it over his neck and catching it again. There was something different about hearing him play the same riffs on stage that he would practice with in the comforts of your shared bedroom, lounging lazily in your queen-sized bed as you close your eyes to the quiet strumming. No, hearing it on a stage was way more exhilarating—he might have thousands of fans in front of him, but you know he’s only playing for you. Watching his long, beautiful, skilled fingers tap away at the neck of the guitar, eliciting different melodic tones and notes when he strums gently. It almost reminds you of the noises his fingers elicit out of you. 

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. Is this all for me?” He purrs into your ear. The same hand that was gently choking you was also keeping your back pinned to the wall as his other hand, shoved deep past the waistband of your skinny jeans, toyed with your weeping folds and rubbed gently against your clit.  He smiles down at his lucky guitar pick resting comfortably in your cleavage, loving the way the lacy shirt he bought you accentuates your beautiful body. 

“You looked so fucking hot on stage tonight….” You manage to whine out. Your heart was racing out of your chest, eyes darting all around the room that today’s venue designated as the band’s dressing room. A music tech, security guard, or even one of Geto’s band mates could barge in at any given moment, but his fingers were relentless as they slipped into your core. 

Your eyes rolled back as you felt your pussy welcome in his digits and clench around them. The hand around your neck slid up to your jaw, gripping your face and turning you to face him again. “Yeah? If I’m so hot, why are you looking away from me, pretty girl? My eyes are right here.”

He emphasized his words by curling his fingers against your g-spot, cutting off your mewls of pleasure with his lips and immediately sliding his tongue inside. You were so drunk, so intoxicated by his lips that you felt your eyes rolling back again before shutting and moaning into the kiss; a kiss that was way too short-lived. “Just one, baby. Cum for me just once, and I’ll dick you down the way your little cunt desperately needs it.”

You complied, reverting all your focus to his fingers until you finally came all over them with a loud, slutty moan. 

He whipped you around almost immediately, pressing your chest to the wall, pulling your hips out, yanking your pants down and unzipping his own before slapping his hard cock on your ass. “Say please, baby,” he whispers in your ear, taking note of the way you press your ass eagerly against him. 

“Please, daddy. I want you to fuck me so bad—!”

And before you could even finish your sentence, Geto was pushing into your warm pussy, using small, gentle thrusts to ease himself in until he was bottomed out. You could feel your walls sucking his hard cock in when his thrusts became deeper; sharp, percussive moans leaving your mouth with each slap of his hips against your ass. His pace was fast and mean, and you were completely enamored with the feeling of his balls slapping your clit. 

“Suguru—!” You could feel your orgasm approaching, your walls contracting and clenching around his pulsing cock, but that only made him go faster. 

“Dirty little slut. You love when I use you like this, don’t you, angel? Taking my cock like the sweet little slut you are…haah. Letting me use my pussy the way I want, wherever I want…”

Toji is the bassist. The long-necked guitar always looked so small and draped so beautifully across his large, muscular frame whenever he played—so different than the way it looked against your naked body on those nights he was in the mood to snap some photos of both of his beauties. His eyes met yours under the black fringe of his bangs, the scarred side of his mouth curling up into a smirk as his fingers found each string and plucked. 

You watched as his fingers danced across the four strings, mindlessly plucking at the four strings, amazed at the way the colorful stage lights were gracing his face and muscular arms. His bass lines were so effortless; he didn’t even need to look down at his hands while he played. His eyes would instead scan the crowd, casting uninterested glances at all the fans screaming his name, and occasionally coming back to meet your own, always accompanied by the sweetest, sexiest grin that reminded you that he was yours. The deep notes that harmonized with Geto’s guitar reverberated off the walls of the concert hall; they shook the speakers, the shook the barriers, they shook your core. But his deep bass lines were no match for how deep his cock always reached inside you. 

“Toji! Ah—fuck!” You choked out, tears streaming down your face as the tip of his cock repeatedly mashed against your cervix. “I’m gonna cum! Ah—please! Daddy! I’m really gonna cum!” You warned. 

“Yeah? Fucking cum then, slut. I’m not fucking this cunt for nothing.”

When Toji invited you to shower with him after the show, you weren’t expecting him to shove you against the shower wall and fuck you like a wild animal from behind as soon as the water hit your hair. While your showers together always ended in you two fucking, you never thought he’d choose a place so public, a place that puts you both at risk of being heard by your closest friends. This seemed to be the last thing on Toji’s mind as he continues to bully his mean cock into your aching pussy. His eyes remained on your ass, watching his cock pistoning in and out of you while your plump cheeks jiggled with each mean thrust. He knew you got loud when you came, and while it was something you were trying to suppress in order to save face from any of his band mates or techs that might be lingering around outside the bathrooms, it was his one and only goal. 

And you did. As soon as he reached his hand down to rub your sensitive clit, you clenched hard on his throbbing cock. Your back arched deeply against him as you squirted hard against the shower wall, a loud squeal leaving your lips. 

He grabs your wet hair, turning your head to the side so he can silence you with a bruising kiss. “Gonna do it again, mama? Gonna cum all over my cock again?” He whispers evilly against your ear once he pulls away, quickening his pace. His hips slap hard against the globes of your ass, the loud clap clap clap echoing off of the insulated shower walls. 

“Y-yes, daddy, I wanna cum again—“ your words were cut off when he slid two fingers into your mouth, groaning when you bite down on them. 

His thrusts were unforgiving, pulling out far enough so that his fat mushroom head pressed harshly against your g-spot when he thrusted forward and hit your cervix. You were so cockdrunk, Toji could sense your oncoming second orgasm before you could by the way your walls were clenching down so hard on him. Before you knew it, you were squirting again, this time pulling a louder, sluttier squeal from your lungs. 

“Good girl,” he praises, a wide smile spread across his face as he continued to pound you into overstimulation. “Music to my fucking ears.”

Choso is the drummer. You loved the way those spiked pigtails bounced in the wind as he head banged along to the loud thumping of his drums. His chocolate brown eyes would occasionally meet yours through the band’s set, peaking brightly above the black stripe across his nose, the purple stage lights reflecting across his irises. During the bridge of a particularly romantic song, he cast his gaze towards where you stood side-stage. With a drumstick tipped in your direction, he made sure your eyes were on him as he shot you a wink before his drum solo, as if to say, “this one’s for you.”

Choso pounded on his drums as if he hated them, shaking the stage and speakers so intensely with his mean percussion that you could feel your throat vibrate. You didn’t care what anyone said, Choso controls the show; he counts everyone in, he sets the tempo, he decides how hard his band plays by how he wants to play—and boy, does he play hard. He was often breaking his sticks and putting dents in his drumheads, going through countless numbers of each with every tour he went on. Everything about Choso was hard—the way he plays, his toned muscles, his thick cock, the way he fucks you. 

“Ch-Choso! Haah…h-oh my god, you’re so-!” Your hands clutched at everything they could grab so that you could hold on for dear life—the cymbals, the casings on the side of the drums, the drum stands themselves—but to no avail. “Fuck, you’re so deep!”

Choso snickered at your pathetic attempts to stabilize yourself, the sight only driving his hips against your ass even harder. He had you bent over his drum set, the harsh slaps of your skin-on-skin contact echoing throughout the empty concert hall. He purposely made sure to leave his drums on stage as he helped tear down the rest of the set, waited until his band mates disappeared, and ushered every tech, security guard, and janitor out before he stalked and captured his prey, dragging you back to his den. “Don’t run from my cock now, princess. Isn’t this what you wanted? You were giving me slutty bedroom eyes throughout the whole show.”

He paused his violent thrusts for a moment, driving his hips backward to slowly brush the tip of his cock against your g-spot. He marveled at the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around him as he teased your sopping wet core. 

“Yes, baby…” you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the delicious stimulation. 

His hips jerked forward, meeting your ass with a singular mean thrust. “I’m sorry?”

You yelp at the sudden jolt of pain and pleasure, eyes snapping wide open as his fingers dig deeper into your hips. “Daddy! Yes, daddy! I want you! Please!” you babble desperately. 

Choso gave your ass one harsh smack before pounding into you again, settling on an unforgiving pace. He loved fucking you hard. Your walls always clenched him so tight, and he loved your cute little squeals you’d let out whenever his cock kissed your cervix. He loved how hard you always came from it, too—it only made him want to fuck you impossibly harder and deeper. His balls slapped against your clit with each thrust, and he admired the way your ass jiggled each time he slammed against it. The sound of him fucking you created its own erotic percussion that you both somehow loved more than the actual sound of his drums. 

“I’ma cum, ohmygod! Ch-Choso…daddy, fuck! I’m cumming!” You whine, unable to focus your gaze as fat tears blur your vision and spill down your face. 

“Good girl. Cum for me, pretty baby,” he moans, rubbing your clit in gentle praise as you spasm all over his throbbing length. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all fucked out and dumb on my cock.”

Nanami is the manager. His blond hair was always combed into a perfect style, and his soft, brown eyes focused on his surroundings as he effortlessly orchestrated the commotion around him. There was a certain calmness that surrounded him as he guided the band through every moment of post-concert teardown. Every once in a while, his eyes would land on you, where you sat quietly on one of the speaker cases backstage, ignoring his gaze with a small pout across your lips. 

The guys in the band would sometimes get a little too crazy after shows or on days off, and they have proved time and time again that they needed someone to keep them in check. Whether it’s passing out drunk outside of local bars, damaging and losing their gear, showing up late to sound checks, or simply being divas with attitude, Nanami swore that he was in charge of a bunch of children, and that you—his perfect girl—were the only one who could do no wrong. Even on nights like tonight, when you were upset with him for reasons that were beyond him, he was happy to pull you aside and get you in check as well.

His lips were on yours, tongue swirling around your mouth as he drank in your moans with fervor. His fingers laced through your hair, resting against the back of your head and using that placement to press your lips more firmly against his as his other hand pressed you against his body. He breaks the kiss for a moment to suck small hickies into your neck. 

“What’s got you so worked up tonight, my angel?” He murmurs against your neck, his hot breath sending goosebumps down the length of your spine. “I let you ignore me all evening, but you can’t hide from me now.”

“Kento…what-what about the guys?” You ask innocently, a small gasp leaving your lips as his teeth nip the skin over your pulse point rather hard. 

“Let’s see; Suguru’s in the dressing room, Toji and his woman are putting on a second concert in the shower, pretty sure I saw Satoru sneak onto the bus…” Nanami uses a finger to tilt your chin up, your eyes meeting his, “and Choso’s slutting himself out on stage. Where does that leave me to take my girl, hmm?”

Before you could even answer, he’s kissing you again, whisking you through a side door that exits outside behind the concert venue. Your eyes snap open as you feel a sudden breeze hit your skin, causing you to break the kiss. 

“Out here? But-“

He silences you with a hand to your throat. “Yes, pretty girl. Out here. Now tell me what you need, okay?”

Your eyebrows pinched in frustration. His strong hand choking you only aroused your needy cunt. You were supposed to be upset with him for being too busy for you that day, but the sultry tone in his voice was making you horny. 

“I need you…please, daddy. I missed you so much today. I need you to fuck me so bad.”

And before you know it, he has your feet off the ground, legs wrapped around his hips and your back against the hard brick wall as he bullies his cock into your cunt relentlessly. Your moans echo into the night sky, surely being heard by anyone lingering outside the nearby bars and restaurants as Nanami’s balls make harsh contact with your ass with each unforgiving thrust. “You like being a brat? Hm? Knowing daddy will fuck you nice and hard? I didn’t know my perfect girl was such a needy little slut.”

“Yes—yes! Right there, daddy!” You cry, pure ecstasy making your legs shake as his fat, veiny cock brushes the inside of your walls. “Haah—nnggh fuck, I’ma cum…” you slur, drool escaping from the corner of your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“That’s right, princess—give it to me. Give me everything. You like when I fuck you dumb, don’t you, baby? You’re so cute when you’re being a brat. Next time, though, I won’t be as gentle.”

BONUS FOR MY METALCORE GIRLIES

gojo's vocals / geto's riffs / toji's basslines / choso's drumming

please keep in mind that I block minors and ageless blogs. mdni.

please do not steal my work.

[kanekisfavoritegf]

PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.

Table of Contents

WORD COUNT: 1.8K

Part 2 1/2 was added to the beginning! So if you have already read it, skip to where it says “TWO DAYS LATER.”

CHAPTER THREE:

The drive from Kento’s apartment was short enough to make you consider walking next time. If there was ever another situation in which you’d be leaving Kento’s apartment in the morning.

“And where the hell have you been?” You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of Yuki’s voice. You turned around to meet her smug face from across the hall, smirking like she knew something you didn’t.

“Such a warm welcome from my favorite neighbor,” You quipped, unlocking your door.

“You were at Kenny’s, right?” 

“Kenny? Who i– Oh! Kento. Yeah.”

Yuki followed in after you, her eyes lingering on the clothes you threw into the washer. It was only then that she realized you were wearing her university’s graphic tee. This might have been an ordinary occurrence any other day, but not when you spent the night at her old university friend and coworker’s house, especially not Nanami’s.

“You didn’t sleep with him, right?”

“No, of course not.”

“Good.” Yuki sighed.

“Good? Is he dating someone?” You felt your breath hold as you wondered aloud, only releasing it once answered.

“No, he doesn’t date.”

“Like at all?”

“Nope.”

“Is there a reason?” 

“It's not my story to tell.” Yuki shook her head. “He is touchy about the subject.”

You only nodded.

“Not even casual hookups?”

“Hey! No.” You would have been offended at the harshness of Yuki’s voice if her expression of horror had not been so amusing, “He is off limits.”

“What do you mean?”

“He is the lonely virgin; one hookup with you, and you will ruin him.” It was a little surprising to hear Kento was still a virgin, but not because of his age, but his demeanour. The way he carried himself. Indeed, he must have had someone he wanted to be with that intimately; surely someone would want him so intimately, but then again, you only knew him for a few hours; who knows what he is actually like.

“You make it seem like I am some succubus.”

“You might as well be Y/N.”You only rolled your eyes at her. “Listen to me, Y/N,” Yuki’s hands cupped your face like a child needing grave warning. “You can not deflower poor Kento.”

“He isn’t a child.”

“I know, but–” Yuki lost the words on her tongue, knowing no explanation would do it justice. “Just don’t. He isn’t Satoru or Suguru. He is a decent man, and if you slept with him, hell, if you kissed him, it would lead to places I don’t think you’d want to go to.”

“You hummed a sound of agreement and went to your bedroom to change. Thoughts of Kento are still in your mind; the more Yuki speaks about him, the more you want to pull back each layer of him to see what exactly makes him the way he is. 

Yuki’s words still echoed in your head as you showered “hell if you kissed him, it would lead to places I don’t think you’d want to go to.” But it was already too late. Kento Nanami was undeniably curious about you, just as much as you to him.

TWO DAYS LATER

“Hello, Mr. Nanami! If I read my email correctly, you are supposed to be showing me around today.” 

This was the first time Nanami had been caught off guard. For some reason, you stood in front of him in business attire, a skirt cut just above the knee, black stockings and a white dress shirt hidden beneath a black cardigan.

 He stared down at you as you stood before him, a nervous smile painted on your face as he did so. His expression was even more blank than he had given you three days ago. It almost seemed like he was angry, but the more he stared at you quietly, you couldn’t help but feel as though he may have just forgotten you. And the very idea of Nanami forgetting you made you slightly (very much so) annoyed. 

Was kissing strangers after housing them in his very nice, very clean apartment a common occurrence for him? Was walking around in shirts too tight around women clearly captivated by him an everyday experience for him???

Okay, you understood it wasn’t technically a kiss to be written in the history books and that it was you who kissed him. But that didn’t take away the feeling of aggravation snaking its way up your spine.

“I’m Y/N.” You stated.

“I know.” Was all he said in return, turning to his desk and logging into the company computer, leaving you standing there awkwardly as he faced his display screen.

You peered over his shoulder, letting a few braids dip down and lay across his chest as you watched him. 

Nanami only let out a shaky breath as you did so, doing his best to ignore the heat that came off of your body as you pressed into him from behind. It didn’t help that you smelled like vanilla and chocolate; whatever perfume you wore was slowly snaking its way around his neck and choking him.

Choosing not to acknowledge your closeness, he focused on your name, typing it in slowly as he waited for an email mentioning you. When it failed, he then searched the word intern, and sure enough, it popped up. In his spam, a place where all emails specifically from Satoru Gojo were sent.

NANAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, I need a huge favor: babysit the new hires and show them around the office. I missed the flight yesterday, so I’ll be back next week.

Thanks!! 

Satoru.

“How does one miss a flight and choose to return in a week, not the next day?” You asked, a small giggle escaping you. Kento only shook his head, huffing slightly, before turning back around to face you.

“I’m Kento Nanami.”

“I knew that.” You replied shortly, and if Kento could kick himself in the knee, he would ten times over.

“Yes.” 

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he repeated bluntly. Stay here one moment. When I return, I will give you a tour of this department. I shouldn’t be over ten minutes.”

Before you could even respond, he had vanished, disappearing down a corridor and around a corner, leaving you standing there, slightly bewildered.

Kento silently cursed himself in the supply closet. 

He was hiding.

 In a closet.

 Kento Nanami, the 35-year-old virgin, was hiding in a closet because a pretty woman smelled nice. It didn’t help that you had said his name the way you did. 

Smooth and slow and utterly… normal. Kento knew he couldn’t blame all his perverted problems on the object of his desire, no matter how much he wished to.

He sighed heavily, knocking his head into the door in front of him before opening it and emerging once again into reality. 

All he needed to do was keep himself calm and composed, not let his eyes drift to your lips, preferably avoid all eye contact, and not mention last weekend under any circumstances.

When he approached his desk again, you weren’t alone. Suguru stood over you as you leaned against his desk for support.

“Oh, it’s Mr. Nanami!” You pointed out, bringing Suguru’s attention to Kento as he approached you.

“Mr. Nanami?” Suguru smirked at you with a tilted head. 

“Should I not call him that?” You panicked for all of 3 seconds before Nanami cut in.

“No, no. It is fine.” Letting out a shuddered breath, “Call me whatever you want.” A weak smile went with his words as he twisted to meet the other man.

“Don’t you have a meeting to be in? Where is Yuki?”

“She is already in there stalling. I thought I’d welcome the new hire once again since Satoru has decided to skip his duties. Geto shook his head at the thought of Satoru sipping on mimosas and eating fresh fruit instead of doing his job, his very well-paying job.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you anymore. We can grab lunch or something later!” You suggested before sliding your way to the blonde man. “And you.” Nanami held his breath as you pointed his way, “You owe me a tour.”

“That I do.” Kento said, throwing a tight smile at Geto, trying to mask the ridiculous feeling of jealousy that began blooming in his chest. All Geto gave back was a knowing smile, a smile that you and Kento alike mistook for one given to yourselves, adding to the tension in the room.

***

Walking through the office was probably one of the most awkward experiences of your life.

Whenever you tried to open a conversation, Kento quickly shut it down or stirred it toward work. 

This would have been fine had he looked you in the eye at least once as he showed off every inch of the new environment.

“This is our break/rest room. A couch, blankets, pillows and noise-canceling earphones are stored away for when you need to sleep.”

“Ooo, that sounds amazing.” You peered inside since no one was currently rested. 

“Yup. All you need to do is flip the card to the red side, lock the door, and then, for at least forty minutes, peace is yours.”

“We pull many all-nighters here as the marketing team; with such a small group, taking forty minutes to one-hour breaks is pretty common.”

“Do you often sleep here?”

“No,” was all he said as he glanced over you, making his way to the kitchen, assuming you’d be following behind him promptly.

With each passing second, your patience wore thinner, and you couldn’t help but huff in annoyance.

As you stood in the final room of the floor, Nanami continued to drone on about the new kettle and fridge space, practically facing the wall opposite you.

“What is your problem?” You snapped at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Why aren’t you looking at me.”

“I am looking at you.”

“I am not talking about now; I am talking about this whole tour, or better yet since I approached you this morning.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You won’t look at me.”

“Y/N–” Kento started.

“You can call me Miss L/N,” You corrected, “I was nervous at the idea of starting a new job in a higher position than before, especially with all of you guys, who already know each other so well, so to be shown around by someone I “knew” it gave me a little bit of comfort. But if this is a problem for Mr. Nanami, then I can wait for Sugu- Mr. Geto, or Yuki to show me around after their meeting. “

“No.”

“No?” You repeated back at him.

“I am sorry.”

“Okay???”

“I struggle talking with women.”

“And looking them in the eye?” 

“Yes. To women I am attracted to, I struggle.” He now faced you fully, the tips of his ears burned bright red. You would have found this cute, had it not been utterly shocking.

Oh.

“It is ridiculous, I know, but I am trying to get it under control, so don’t worry about me. I am sorry if I have made you uncomfortable in any way.” And before you could respond, Nanami was back at his desk. Leaving you gobsmacked in the middle of the office Kitchen.

“Oh.” You whispered to no one, hand reaching out and touching your lips.

Preview...

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"CHAPTER FOUR" UPLOADED

[lucrativesoul]

Welcome Home

summary: you finally graduated college and are home free for the summer, planning to spend as much time as possible with your best friend. what you weren't planning for, however, was the incredible sight of her older brother, Leon, who had drastically changed after all those years. you had never thought you would fall for your best friend's brother.

pairing: leon kennedy (re2) x fem! reader

word count: 9.3k

warnings: smut, bathroom sex, public sex, fingering, dom(ish) leon

a/n: guys, thank you endlessly for 300+ followers, 250+ reblogs and all those likes! i'd like you all to take a moment to read this, apologies... i absolutely love writing. I've been writing for ten years! crazy. i do it for fun, and because i want to put out the content that i want to consume and i want to be that outlet for people who don't write but want to consume, that is just as fair! a while ago, while writing this, my laptop gave me a scare. i'm realizing now that its a 5 year old macbook, which, in apple timeline, means it might be on the way out at the blink of an eye. if you are feeling generous at all, i have created a ko-fi. it is absolutely not necessary, because i'm not doing this blog for money, but if you really love my work and want other ways to support me, it's there. i will never be upset at no donations, but i made it in hopes that i'm on this blog for a long time. so sorry for the rambling, i really hope you guys enjoy this one, and i will be back soon for a fifth fic. love u!

No matter how many young adult fiction books you read, how many love story tropes you think you have seen, there was just one that seemed so unreasonable, it was almost laughable. Because, after all, you spent way too much time with this person to ever even see him as attractive, it had never even crossed your mind. Come on, your best friend’s brother? The boy who was so ungracious, messy, impolite, and had a crude, childish sense of humor? It was just unrealistic.

Until… It was realistic.

For all your life, you looked at Leon Kennedy as the young, bumbling boy who tripped over his own two feet at any given opportunity, ready to make jokes at inappropriate times and constantly worked overtime to barge in when you and your best friend were hanging out. He was only two years older than you, but his personality read the same age, if not, younger. Boys will be boys…

You always knew that college would change a person, and you can’t deny that about yourself, but it was so hard to look at the people you were closest to and imagine that they, too, changed with college. Your best friend was still the same person you knew since middle school, and all those years that you knew Leon, he had never changed, until he left for college himself. You were confident in knowing that when he came back, he would be the same exact person, just… older.

You could not have been more wrong.

“These days could not go by any faster.” Your best friend whined to you over the phone, a daily routine between the two of you. “I need you home ASAP, Leon is driving me crazy. He’s being so loud.”

Yep, that sounded pretty in character for him. “I know, just five more days, and I’m home free, forever. I wish commencement wasn’t even happening at this rate, I’m wasting away here.”

You were finishing up your last days as a college senior at a school that was a thousand miles away from home. The scholarship opportunity was incredible, and you could not say no to this offer. Your best friend chose to stay local, which you inwardly criticized, but would never say to her. You knew her parents could have afforded to send her here, who needs that big of a house for a family of four anyway?!

Commencement was set to happen on Thursday, and it was currently Sunday. Your own parents had flown in to watch you walk the stage, and while you knew your best friend would have dropped everything to come as well, her school chose to hold theirs on the same exact day. Figures.

“I miss you guys. The summers I came home just weren't enough. I have to say, I’m so glad this internship bullshit is over. It feels like I haven’t ever even lived with you.”

You heard her groan on the other line. “I know! It’s so stupid. Why would a program even make it so you could only intern in the summer? Don't they know you are only in your twenties once?!”

You laughed at her remark, gazing off as you continued the conversation. Classes were over and exams were concluded, at least you had a healthy pile of books to go through to pass the time. You decided to worry about the logistics of taking them home at a later date.

There’s something so innocent about getting lost in the world of young adult romance. Some would say it makes their own lives dreary, coming to the conclusion that they could never live out these fantasies in the real world, but to you, it felt real anyways. It only made you happier. It puts some optimism in your life.

The comfy plane read you chose was about a high school girl, absolutely smitten over the five-years-older brother of her best friend. This type of thing, you thought, just seemed too… fairytale, to be real. In no world where you knew someone as a child could you grow up and think they were an object of fantasy. You tried picturing you and Leon in this situation. Never!

Admittedly, you haven’t seen Leon in like 4 years. The last time you saw him, it was right before you left for college, and your major requires summer internships which leave a very small window for home visits. You never crossed paths during those times. From what your friend tells you, he’s rarely home now, he must have migrated to a new group of friends in college and found other passions. Good for him, you thought, you wish you could say the same, but you needed the income from whatever job you landed from your internship.

He was never really a tiny boy in high school, he was of a pretty average build and rivaled some of the football players, but he was not an athletic kid. You can’t imagine him changing that much more, your best friend never talked about him like that, obviously, so, you only had to imagine after the last time you saw him.

From your own personal standpoint, it was just impossible to believe in this best friend’s brother trope. You shut the book and closed your eyes, willing the plane to start moving faster.

As soon as your plane touched down, you whipped your phone out to send a text: As soon as all this shit is put away, I’m coming straight over.

Predictably, less than three minutes later: YES!! All nighter, we’re 14 again. I have drinks in the fridge.

Willing yourself through all the pleasantries of coming home, promising other relatives you would be by in a few days when you are settled, you merely threw your suitcase down into your room before dashing out to your car, knowing the route to your best friend’s house even with your eyes closed. 

A tight, running start hug was the intro you both needed as a fresh start to the summer.

“Please tell me you are home for good now, they aren't making you do any more summer internships?”

You laughed as you followed her into the house. It felt like it’s been forever since you’ve been in this large house’s lived-in walls. “No, thank god. I’m officially done. Except for job hunting, but I’m putting that off for as long as I can get away with it.”

“Agreed.”

As you followed her up the steps to her room, snacks and drinks spilling over your arms, a loud cacophony rang out through the house, coming from the garage. “What the hell is that?” You stopped short, listening to it through the closed door.

“Wow, that’s how I really know it’s been forever since you’ve been here. I’m so used to it now. It’s a band that Leon is a part of. The ‘rents loaned out a car space in the garage.”

Wow, you thought, multiple things to dissect here. One: this has been going on for some time now, and you never knew. You didn’t blame your friend for not bringing it up, it wasn’t weird to not mention a new hobby of her brother’s. Two: Leon apparently knew how to play an instrument. You couldn’t recall anytime seeing him play anything, and he had never expressed an interest in singing, so that was difficult to digest. Three: their parents would give up a car space just for them to do this. They still had two car spaces left in there.

“God, it’s really been that long, huh? I’ll have to get him to spill all about this whenever he comes out.”

You heard a groan from in front of you on the stairs, and you hopped up to be beside her, headed to her bedroom. “If you can even catch him. He’s like a slippery snake. Plus, he’s so private, I don't know what happened to him. Anyway, you should come over tomorrow night and pregame with me and the girls, cause…” 

She droned on, and while you still had half of your brain paying attention to her, you couldn’t help but think about that sentence she just said. Leon’s different now? The slippery snake part didn’t make many waves, you weren’t surprised that a man in his mid twenties didn’t want to be bothered, but you didn’t expect a whole new personality to come out of him. What happened while he was gone? Or, what kind of epiphany did he have?

“Oh, my god, look at this, too. I totally forgot to send you this. I’m so mad you missed it!”

Your best friend shoved a phone in your face, and you took it, grateful for the mental topic switch. It was a group of four girls and five boys, your old friends, standing along a cliffside in bathing suits. You assumed this was the cliff jumping extravaganza you heard about over the phone a couple weeks ago. And, yes, you were also mad you missed it.

“This looked like so much fun, I haven't seen all of them in forever. Maybe we can convince everyone to do it again soon.” You looked up and smiled as your friend laughed. You looked back down to the photo. “Who is this?”

She leaned over you as you zoomed in on a man in the top right, his lower half covered by a girl bending forward for a photo, but you could tell he was incredibly toned. His hair was pushed back with water from the lake below, and a broad smile graced his features. You sensed familiarity, but you had never met this person before.

Your friend scoffs. “Girl, what? That’s Leon.”

“What?!” Has it really been that long since you’ve seen Leon in person? Now that you look at it again, yep, that’s definitely him, but why does he look so different? Thinking back, it wasn’t often you spent time with him around after he graduated high school and went to college. You saw him probably even less than you visited home during your college career, and honestly, it has probably been years since you’ve seen him at all. “He looks so… different.”

“Like I said, I don’t know what happened. Maybe he won’t recognize you either.” You handed her phone back to her. Maybe, you wondered, but you doubted it. Nothing about you changed at all. You woke up every day waiting for a magical overnight nose job and five month glute progress from the gym that you didn’t go to, but it never happened. 

The night carried on, the strange questions about Leon’s college whereabouts pushed to the back of your mind. It felt so good to be back home. The summer was only just getting started, and with the buzz running through your system, you couldn't feel anything except excitement.

“I’m out of water, fuckkk,” You moaned. Your friend giggled at you. 

“Go get some. And don’t fall.” If you were any more sober you would have glared at her for this, reminding you of the time you drunkenly took a tumble down her stairs, but right now, it was only a funny memory as you totally didn’t have an iron grip on the railing as you walked down.

The rest of the house was dark and quiet now. You remembered her saying her parents were somewhere else, so you hadn’t seen them at all tonight, and there was no longer heavy music coming from the garage. You instinctively turned your head that way, like it would magically start up again.

You stumbled over to the refrigerator, yanking it open and hearing all the bottles clink around on the door. It took you a second to collect your bearings, but after a few more seconds, water was located, and you let your eyes readjust to the darkness as you shut the door. A figure in the darkness made you yelp.

“Goddamnit, you scared me!” You placed a hand over your beating heart.

A deep laugh floated through the air at this, but you were still partially blinded. “Hey, you. I’m sorry, I thought you were my sister.”

Leon. 

You blinked hard a few times, willing the night vision to return, and a little bit of your drunkenness away. You took a hard look at the man in front of you, as good of a look as you could. You only saw a silhouette, a dark shirt, hair over his forehead, and he was taller than you, wider, stronger. This was not the Leon you remember from high school.

“Leon. It’s so nice to see you.” You tried your hardest to sound normal, but surely he already knew what the two of you were up to.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.” Slowly, your vision was returning, and his facial features were becoming prominent. Eyes. Mouth. Smile. “Congratulations on graduating, back home for good now?” 

“Yeah, yes. Thank god. Thank you.” You could now tell you were fumbling over your words, and suddenly wanting nothing more than to go back upstairs. “I’ll be here a lot more often now, so get used to me.” You walked around him back to the stairs, listening to that low chuckle that you got out of him. God, you really needed another drink.

The night and next day bore on with nothing too important left to remember about it, as long as you were in the confort of your home town again getting fucked up with nowhere to be, it was a great time as far as you were concerned. 

Though, despite continuing to drink that night and waking up a little unsteady the next morning, you couldn’t shake that brief encounter you had with Leon. You could barely see him in the dark, but you could already tell he looked different. His build was wider than the last time you saw it, he even looked a little taller. He had only ever been maybe an inch above you, but since he disappeared to college, it looked like he went up at least five. Or maybe you were shrinking. 

You were mad it was so dark and you were on the edge of tipsy and drunk to be able to clearly see him. You saw him in the photo of the outing at the cliffside, but you really didn't want to believe that was him. He was almost… sexy.

Which was crazy. You had never thought of Leon like that. Yes, there was some sort of novelty to having a crush on the only consistent older man in your life whom you weren’t related to, but whenever you came face to face with him, it was just normal. You felt nothing, he was just there. 

But this… this could change everything. Was he actually attractive now? God knows you weren’t the best at being normal around people who you thought were attractive, and that could make things infinitely awkward with being around your best friend so often. And your best friend, what would she even think? You can’t confide in her to tell her you might think her older brother is hot. This was all messed up. This is not how you wanted summer to start.

–

A few days had passed with no rift, and your momentary crisis left with no memory. You discovered, though, as much as you couldn’t wait for summer to roll around so you could be free of your duties, your days were much more boring than you had anticipated. With your past summer internships, you were always busy, and had one or two days a week to rest at most. But now, with the summer sun high in the sky and no requirements of you anymore, you were at a loss of anything to do other than sit by your best friend’s pool, baking in the heat.

“They’re having some start-of-summer party going on in one of the campus houses tonight, are we down?”

You didn’t move your head nor open your eyes as your friend spoke to you. “Yeah, sure. It will be more of a time than drinking with just us.”

She sighed. “You can say that again.”

You pushed yourself up off the chair. “I’ll be back, don’t drown.”

You listened to her sarcastic response as you went inside the house, needing a moment to cool down, and to refill your drink. As you slid the glass door shut, you were greeted with the sound of loud instruments, reminding you of the first night you came here once returning from school. Leon must have had his bandmates come over some time while the both of you were outside, as you don’t remember hearing this, or seeing anyone else. You ignored it, and stalked past the door, headed upstairs to the kitchen.

The music stopped, a door opened, and chatter became clearer without the barrier. You didn’t know who else Leon could have here, you didn’t know his friends, and you were suddenly too aware of the bikini you had on. Whatever, you soothed your anxiety, I look good.

“Oh, hey.” You turned around at the strange voice, not recognizing the person standing at the stairway, headed towards the kitchen. “Now it’s a party.”

“Dude, gross.” A more familiar voice followed quickly behind the quip, and Leon’s head became visible as he climbed the stairs. “Sorry.” He spoke now to you, visibly doing his best to keep eye contact with you. Now you could really feel your half-nakedness. 

“Doesn’t sound like you guys are making much progress out there.” You joked, turning your head back to where you were filling your water bottle. You heard Leon’s friend laugh, making a remark along the lines of blaming other people in the band, but you unintentionally tuned him out.

“We’re trying.” Leon was closer to you now, and when you turned, his friend had disappeared, probably into the bathroom. Leon was grabbing drinks from the fridge, and the two of you were separated by the kitchen island, sunlight illuminating both of you.

His hair was a shade darker than you remembered it being, still blonde, but almost brown. It came down to touch his ears, and the pieces of bangs on his forehead were clumped together with sweat. He had on a gray tank, the ones with the arm holes that go down to your ribcage. His arms, god, those arms–

“Doing anything fun out there?” He walked around the island, even closer to you now, getting cups from the cabinets. 

You shook your head. “Just trying to become a leather couch while I’m still young.” You fixed the top of your water bottle back on, but didn’t move from your spot, taking the chance to talk to Leon.

“That’s the spirit.” He placed the cups down on the counter and leaned on it, clearly standing around to talk to you, too. You noticed a bandage wrapped around his right hand as he crossed his arms.

“What happened there? Start scrapping with the wrong people?” 

He lifted it and looked at it, like he just realized it was there. He laughed softly. “This might sound gross, but it's just a callus that burst open the other day. Right when I was used to holding drumsticks all the time.”

You sighed a gentle laugh. “Doesn’t that hurt, still using it?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I just didn’t want to start touching shit and get it all gross again.” He set his hand back down. You took the silence to ask another question. 

“When did the drums start? That was never a thing as far as I can remember.” He looked down, slowly nodding his head, as if trying to piece together memories of what his life was like the last time he saw you.

He sighed. “I kind of picked it up during college. I thought it was a lot of fun. I knew a lot of guys at the time who were in a bunch of different bands, so they had access to all these instruments, and I tried a bunch, but the only one that stuck was drums. I guess it’s easy and I like it only because I still can’t read sheet music for the life of me.”

You smiled softly at his explanation. Looking at him in the daylight, now, you can see the old him in his features. He grew into his face, his cheekbones slightly more pronounced, and his dimpled chin fitting perfectly into his jawline. His eyes were soft, yet tired. Still the bright blue you remember them being.

“Are you any good?”

He smiled fully at this, looking back up to you. “Of course. I know it sounds like ass right now, but we’re trying out some new stuff. But, and maybe I’m just biased, I think we have some really solid potential.”

You shrugged, a grin still present on your face. “I’ll have to see it to believe it.”

Leon stood up now, grabbing the cups and the still tied together 6-pack. “I agree. We’re doing a local show next Wednesday night. I’m always inviting my sister, but she doesn’t like going alone, and the rest of your friends don’t like that bar.” You smiled at this. Sounds typical of your friends. “Maybe she will come if you will. And, uh, if you’re still with that guy, he can come, too.”

Your brow furrowed at this. “Guy?”

Leon shrugged. “Oh, well, she told me in passing that you were with some guy last summer. From around here.”

You paused to think about this, nearly forgetting your whole past trying to rake your brain for a memory. It then hit you. “Oh, shit, yeah, that was definitely just a summer thing. He was…” A douche, conceited, horrible at sex. “Not the best. I’m not seeing anybody. And definitely not while school was in. I was way too busy for that.” 

He nodded, standing up a little straighter. “Well, that’s good. And fuck that guy.” You giggled at his support. “I think you should come. I’d be happy to see you there.”

And, oddly, for the first time ever speaking with Leon, your stomach did a flip that only ever happened when you were talking to someone whom you liked. It caught you off guard, and your words caught on your throat.

You nodded quickly, using the opportunity to take a deep breath in. “Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ve got the time to, now.”

“Cool. I won’t disappoint, I promise.” With that, Leon bounded back across the room and down the stairs, opening and shutting the door to the garage. You sighed deeply. You didn’t like the feeling that was creeping up inside of you.

Putting your newfound conundrum aside for the night, you resolved to let loose and get back to enjoying the summer the way you had intended to. You were almost tempted to stick around and listen once his band got started with the music again as you were on your way outside, but decided against it, as your friend would surely be asking what took so long. 

Part of you wished Leon had gone to this little party tonight, considering he knew all of your mutual friends, but he was never the party type before this, and it seemed that college did not change that much either. It would make sense if he had a gig coming up, they must be preparing, but you didn’t picture him to be much of a perfectionist. Maybe that changed as well.

–

“Why are we going to this again?” Your friend asked as she followed you out of her house, locking the door behind her. She seemed awfully quick to keep up with you for complaining about doing something she doesn't want to.

“I don’t know, it gives us something to do. Leon asked me to come. Now you’re coming with me.”

“What? Why did Leon ask you to come? He doesn't ask me.” The two of you slid into her sleek black coupe. 

You shrugged as you fastened the belt. “I saw him the other day when I was here, I came in while we were out by the pool. We were just talking. And he said he does invite you, by the way, but you never go.”

She was the one to shrug this time. “Maybe he does. You think there will be hot men here?”

“We’re both hoping.” You half-assed the response, but you already knew the answer was yes. You could never tell her you think Leon is attractive now. You had been mulling it over the past few days, ever since you spoke to him, and you had no choice but to confirm it. He really, really grew into his body. You could even push the curiosity aside to wonder what it was about college that changed him like that, you were just thankful it happened.

Your local bar looked just as you remembered, dark and looming from the outside, people filing in and out simultaneously. It was much busier than you had ever seen it, but the show was most likely the reason for the sudden influx in customers.

The crowd was a thick mass, and you had trouble even spotting the stage when you walked in, but once you and your friend had found a nice little corner, vacant of bodies, and conveniently found a third mutual friend to stand by, the room seemed a little less stuffy.

You absentmindedly scanned the crowd, people hoarding in front of the stage, waiting to be the first to break open the mosh pit, presumably, people in the back drinking idly and chatting, almost like they don't even know a show is happening this night. You found yourself looking for Leon. He was in the building somewhere. You wished you could have told him you were there, but what good would that have done? He wouldn’t have come out to say hello, there were preparations to be had back there.

God, shut up already, you willed at yourself, annoyed at the mere fact that you couldn’t stop thinking of Leon.

Admittedly, you thought of that first scene more often than not recently. The muscle shirt, ribcage exposed, thick arms, sweet smile and bouncy cheeks with a strong jawline, the vision came to you during the day, at breakfast, while you were scrolling your phone, late at night, when the moon was your only company. 

You wondered what he would look like tonight. You were so anxious for him to step out on stage. Would he see you?

Your friend stumbled sideways into you, knocking you out of your monetary stupor. People were now starting to crowd in, hence the bump, and you were assuming the start of the set was about to happen.

On cue, the lights went darker, the roar of the crowd exploded, and people rushed on stage and took their places. Your eyes were instantly drawn to Leon, who, from what you could only see from the backlight so far, had on another muscle shirt. It made your legs feel like jelly.

The lights went on, and after a brief introduction from the front man who was holding a guitar, they started. Leon was right, they were pretty good when they weren’t rehearsing new material. You knew this wasn’t the type of music your best friend was into, but to your surprise, she was bopping away with your other mutual friend, both of them holding drinks. That’s probably why.

Turning back, you could see Leon clearly under the lights now, which were strobing in and out, flashing different colors and patterns. His hair was pushed back this time, exposing his forehead, and looking brand new. You liked the way it looked on him, it made him almost look older. Everytime a strong beam of light would shine down on him, you could see the glistening sweat on his skin, his face. He was so focused on hitting the beats, and succeeded everytime, and you were so enticed by it.

This was a side of Leon you never thought you would see. It was so clear, standing in the crowd watching, how much he belonged up there. He looked so confident, every move was made with ease, no hesitation, and you could feel yourself melting.

It was like a headrush, you didn’t think you would enjoy it this much, but clearly, every moment took your breath away. Yes, you were looking at Leon the whole time, but who could really tell?

Soon enough, the show ended, and the crowd was applauding for what felt like ten minutes as the individual members left the stage, thanked everyone, hopped down to talk to others. You were interrupted with your people-watching when your friend grabbed you by the elbow to let you know she was headed back to the bar for more drinks, and you absentmindedly nodded while you turned back.

You caught the back of Leon, dipping behind the stage into the back of the bar. The tips of your fingers tingled with… something, some emotion you couldn’t read… and you let your body take over as you weaved through the crowd, headed to the back.

People bumped you and yelled in your ears as you squeezed in between them, paying them no mind, on a mission of your own.

After a few seconds, you reached a hallway, a few people lingering by the bathrooms, and you spotted someone, you recognized him as the frontman, dipping behind another doorway, chattering loudly to people behind the wall. Times like this, you wished you had decided to down some liquid courage.

You stalked slowly over to the doorway, seeing flashes of shadow as people walked by, unsure if you should hang out or go in. Most likely, you weren’t welcome, it was probably for performers only, but you couldn’t help it, you continued inching closer, drawn in by an unseen force.

As you took another step inward, a figure rushed out and crashed right into you. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, bathrooms are that way if you’re looking for them, this is restricted access.” You looked up at the man you walked into, you didn’t know who it was. 

“Oh, um…” You backed up a step, and though he was making moves to walk around you, he was waiting for a response. “I was actually waiting for Leon… the drummer.” You added in the title, just in case this was a man who worked at the bar with no affiliation to the band. But, to your relief, he nodded.

“I’ll get him, just chill over there, ‘kay?”

You dumbly nodded and backed up again. The hallway was lit with fluorescents, the bright white kind, but it was still dark, with the walls and floors looking slick with condensation. You opted not to lean up against them.

“Hey, you’re still here?” A voice snapped your head back over to your left, and you saw Leon walking towards you. “You didn’t leave with the rest of them?” He must have seen your other friend there as well.

You shook your head. “They’re still here, I think. Just getting drinks.” He nodded. “I told you I would come.” You held your arms out in a here I am gesture. He laughed.

“I’m so glad. I didn’t see you while I was up there, but… I do tend to just tune everything else out when I play.”

“You did great. You were really good.” You spoke, almost breathless for no apparent reason. 

He smiled softly, his eyes holding contact with yours. “Thank you.” His hair was now starting to fall back into place on his forehead, his face was still red with exerted energy. Your eyes wandered, without your permission, his arms were shining under the hallway lights, still sweaty. You looked away, but he saw. “You look great tonight.” His voice was low, and a twist went straight down your abdomen.

You smiled back. You briefly looked down at your outfit, simply a short skirt and loose band tee. “Thank you. It’s nothing.” 

“I like it.” He looked back into your eyes, and you found yourself lost for words. He broke eye contact for a second, turned around and looked into the back room where, presumably, the rest of his bandmates were. He turned back to you. “You know,” He looked down, and took a step forward towards you, slowly, as if to test the waters. You stayed put. “It’s been so long since I saw you last. I almost didn’t recognize you the first night you were at the house.” You grinned at the memory. You were also equally stunned to not know Leon had changed so much. “Not that you weren’t before but… You’re beautiful, now.” 

Your stomach sank at his words, and with his new proximity to you, it caused you to have to look up at him. You felt a strong shiver course up your body.

“I really… I didn’t recognize you. You look so different, too.” You whispered, knowing he was close enough to hear you. “I didn’t even think it was you at first.”

He simply stared at you for a few more moments, taking in your words, and the way you looked in front of him right now. You were suddenly self conscious, but his gaze seemed to tell you that he liked whatever he saw.

“I… don’t want to back you into any corners here…” He looked down, still not meeting your eyes. “But you’re giving me a… vibe. And I’d rather fuck around and find out than never know if I don’t try.”

You stood up straighter, coming closer to meet his face, his eyes finally touching back onto yours. “What kind of vibe?” You had to say something, anything, because you could barely comprehend this situation right now. Leon was catching a vibe from you? Could he tell that you were looking at his body? Could he tell that you thought he became very sexy?

He tilted his head a little further, and his brow bone cast a shadow over his eyes, darkening them. Another shiver down your body. He shrugged. “I think I just… think you are incredibly attractive, now.” His eyes darted down your body for a quick second before resuming their previous place. “And I want to know if you want to just try it out. Just once.”

You took a quick, silent breath in. He must have been picking up your messages, even though you said nothing and only spoke to him once. Was that one conversation that powerful? Was it the hint you dropped about not being with that guy anymore? Was this something he just knew he was going to attempt as soon as he saw you? You didn’t know, and you really didn’t have the time to think it over.

You reached up and placed a hand on his chest, slowly taking the shirt on his body in your hands, pulling him closer, but with no force. His eyes darted up behind you, and he turned his head quickly one more time. He saved you the trouble, and dipped his head down and kissed you hard.

You sighed instantly, fully gripping his shirt and dragging him in closer to you, pushing your body against his as you could feel him move towards you at the same time. You were exploding, you didn’t know what to do with the rest of your body, and could only bring your other hand up to his bicep, where he then palmed your waist. He pulled back after a few seconds.

“Follow me,” His face was flushed, and when he turned around, you were very quick to follow. He maneuvered the two of you through the back room, where people still were congregating, but none of them paid much attention to the two of you. You passed by his other bandmates, and when he turned the corner, he pushed open a door, and ushered you inside. It was a bathroom. “This is the best I can do right now.”

Instead of replying, you simply grabbed his face in both hands and pulled him in. The room was dark, you could tell from under your eyelids as you felt the heat of his face on yours again, and you were at least happy for that, you weren’t too sure you wanted to see the state of the bar’s bathroom at this moment.

His hands found solace again on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles, and fingers teasing along the waistband of your skirt. Leon pressed himself further into you, sandwiching you in between him and the wall, and the stark difference in temperature between the two caused another series of shivers to run up your body.

Leon’s mouth left your lips, now wet and slick with his saliva and yours, and traced them down the length of your jaw, along your neck, nipping at the tender skin, making you sigh and arch your back, increasing the contact of your bodies. Your hands dragged along his sturdy shoulders, reaching around and locking your arms behind his neck, holding him in as he worked your neck, and as his hands started to move. You kept breathily gasping as he bit underneath your jawline, fingertips caressing your jutting hip bone, dipping lower, causing ripples to erupt in your core.

He had positioned his hands now to take purchase on the hem of your skirt, full intentions of pulling it up, when he released his lips from your neck and his face was back in front of yours. 

“Sorry that this is all we have.” His voice was low, and you almost didn't hear it over the static of the bar music softly coming in through the speakers. “We can wait if you want.”

His hand was still positioned on your clothing, and you didn’t let go of him even a little bit. You could only look up, your head already touching the wall behind you. “Where’s the thrill in that?”

Under his shadow, you saw his lips quirk up slightly, he breathed a laugh, and dove back in to kiss you. You threaded your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging, hearing him groan at the sensation. The hand that was ready to hike your skirt up did just that, and his other was gripping your thigh, lifting it higher so he could slide himself right in between. 

He made himself comfortable pressed against you, and you could feel his erection growing through his jeans, giving himself some sort of friction, and you pushed back, earning another groan through your still connected lips. You dropped one of your hands from his hair and traced down his bicep, and into the large hole of his shirt, relishing in every ridge that his ribcage and abdomen had to offer. His skin was so smooth, you knew you would never be able to get enough.

He backed away from the kiss briefly for another moment. “If I never saw you that day you came inside, half naked… in my house looking like that…” He continued to grind himself into you as he spoke, earning noises from the both of you. “Who knows how long I would have to wait?” The hand on your thigh crept upward, leaving a wake of shivers in its path. His palm was flush to your bare skin, reaching the joint of your thigh and hip, and he squeezed the flesh of your hip, digging his thumb into the sweet spot, making you squirm. You clawed at his back, you didn’t even care if it hurt him. You were sure it didn’t.

Leon hovered his mouth over yours, not connecting, but enticing you, and you could only look up at him through a foggy gaze. His hair had now fallen back over his forehead, streaked with sweat, but you hardly minded the way it was touching yours, you wanted him closer. It was impossible how, through the shadow he cast from the light behind him, you could see his blue eyes so clearly, pupils blown, the way he was looking at you made you want to drop dead.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you didn’t even have words to say back to him, you just needed to show him what you thought, how you felt, you just needed him. Your hands came around the front of his body again, not losing contact the entire way, and grasped desperately at his belt, needing to pull out his girth, needing to have his cock in your hands, mouth, in you.

You gasped, trying to form words, but his presence was so dominating, you almost couldn’t. “Leon…” You breathed, and your fingers couldn’t work the clasp fast enough. “Let me…” Finally, it slid open, you pulled the two ends of the belt apart, and made quick work to free his dick from its constraints. Your knees buckled, and you started sliding down the wall.

As you were about to hit the ground, his hands hoisted you back up from under your arms, and you could have whined, the frustration growing, the time only growing in between you getting to have him in your mouth.

“No, I’m sorry,” He grunted as he pulled you up. He put both hands under your thighs, and you gasped as he suddenly picked you up, you wrapped your arms around his neck for balance. “You’re not getting on this floor for me, we’ll save that for another time.”

Another time. Fuck, just those words alone had you melting in his grasp, his strong hands and arms holding you up, walking you around the corner of the bathroom and shutting the two of you in a stall.

“But, you already started this for me, so,” He had you pressed in between himself and the wall once again, one of his arms was still holding you up in the air, legs wrapped around his torso. He tried to separate himself as much as he could to pull his cock out, you reached down in between the two of you to help him, pulling the waistband forward so he could pull them down.

Your breath caught as he pulled it out, a solid, thick length, rock hard, and you were suddenly so mad he wouldn’t let you suck it, because, fuck you would have sucked the life out of him at just the sight of his dick. 

Once he was free, he stroked himself a couple of times, causing himself to moan, and shit, you almost did, too, and he went back to the hem of your skirt, pushing it up over your hips, exposing your small underwear. He eyed them for a moment, humming in acceptance, before sliding them sideways and exposing your aching pussy to the cool air. You, in contrast, were overheating in this bathroom, but now that you were free, it felt so nice, and it felt even better when he ran his fingers along the length, in between your folds, pressing into your clit to watch you squirm again under him.

You sighed loudly, moans slipping out with your breathing as his contact with your heat felt like heaven, your head leaned back and hit the wall, but you didn’t care, you couldn’t feel it, you felt nothing but Leon’s fingers right now.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” He was breathing heavily, and you choked out a whimper when he slid one of his fingers in, and it wasn’t stopped with any friction. You also couldn’t believe how wet you were, but then again, you would jump hurdles to be able to suck his dick right here and now, so it must have gotten you worked up. “You feel so good around me.” He mumbled, practically groaned out, sliding in a second finger with ease, the slick sounds becoming louder as he worked you open, and while it felt so good, you just needed him to fuck you already.

“Leon…” You kept whining, unable to say anything else, mind fading, only wrapped around the feeling of him pleasuring you, fingering you, loosening you up for him. “Please, Leon…” You moved your hips, trying to signal to him to pull his fingers out, but he resisted, his hand following the movements of your hips, only going deeper, causing you to squeal when he went as far in as he could.

“Stay still, take it…” Now he pushed himself back against you, finding your lips again and kissing passionately, trapping his fingers inside you, and when you felt them move inside of you, you couldn’t help but squirm against him. His tongue caressed your lips, the inside of your mouth, and your tongue as he was so entwined in kissing you and in fingering you to the edge, his other hand gripping relentlessly at your ass.

After what felt like forever, he backed away, strings of saliva connecting your mouths, his eyes darker than ever, and you, breathing heavily, working to regain composure. He slid his fingers out, a small hiss escaping your lips with the emptiness.

“Fuck,” He sighed, and he looked back down in between you two. He adjusted his grip on your thigh and ass as he used his now free hand to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance, you felt a throb hit the core of your pussy at the mere sight, and you instinctively tightened when he teasingly dragged the tip along your lips, not giving you what he knew you wanted.

You sighed frustratingly, and couldn’t help it but to reach down and wrap your own hand around his dick. The sudden contact made him gasp, but he caught your hand and prevented you from piloting the moment.

“Just relax…” You didn’t need to look up to hear the smile painting his face, and as much as you wanted to protest, you knew he had the upper hand. This time. “You’ll get it, just be patient.” He drew a couple more lines into you, with your hand still trapped under his on his cock, which you could feel it throb every few seconds, and he finally pushed the tip into you.

You whimpered, whole body going slack, and you drew your hand back from his dick to find closure on his shoulder, steadying yourself as he slowly pushed himself all the way in. He had to stop every other second to collect himself as well, jaw tightened, hands gripping bruises into your hips and legs, a long, deep sigh once he was bottomed out.

He brought himself closer to you, relishing in the feeling of you being wrapped around him, unmoving, and he had his face in the crook of your neck, as if to ground himself from the feeling. Your body was shaking slightly, and you could barely breathe with his weight on top of you, but it all felt so good. His skin was slick, sweat coating anywhere that wasn’t exposed to the air, and your hands drawing deep scratches into his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, fuck…” You felt Leon’s lips moving against your throat, and his breath was hot, you could tell he was desperate to move inside of you, but he was still. “You’re so tight, god…” His lips moved up to place gentle kisses along your jawline, and your head rolled to the side to give him more access. He stayed there for a second, teeth grazing your skin, and after a while you were ready for him to start moving.

You picked your head up and turned sideways, forcing him to look directly at you, wasting no time in reconnecting your lips, and, while continuing to kiss you, he slowly slid out, and pushed himself back in.

The both of you were glued to each other as he continued to thrust in and out, your hands gripping impossibly hard on his shoulders, thighs shaking, breaths choppy. His eyes never left your face, he was watching your expressions so closely, you had no control over whatever was happening to you, you could barely breathe, you were so focused on the feeling that Leon was delivering, you simply ceased to acknowledge the setting you both were in.

“God, Leon…” You choked out in between gasps, head hitting the wall over and over, trying to helplessly grind your hips into his when he thrust up, but you had no energy to move against him. He took the initiative, and every time he would plunge into you, he would stay there for a beat longer, and make sure your previously ignored clit was getting the friction it needed, which made you whine even louder.

His breaths were so heavy, spitting out ‘Fuck’, and ‘Oh, shit’, and ‘So good’ every few seconds, letting his train of thought loose as he let himself go, and lost control of the pace.

One of his hands let go of your thigh, and it landed along your chin, forcing your head down to look into his eyes. “How does that feel, hm? So hard to move in you, so tight.” His voice was a broken mess, just breaths, essentially, but it was all you needed to spur you on. 

You simply nodded, knowing the words were nowhere close to coming out right now. Even if you tried, it would be a mess of moans and gasps. You could feel him so deep inside of you, hitting that point to split you open, your pussy was endlessly wet, enough to fuel a whole round or two, and he let you know.

On another thrust, he pushed himself in and sat there for a moment, your moans spilling out without reserve, you both tensed as the unmistakable sound of the creaking door was heard.

Leon took his right hand, free from holding you up, and laced it over your mouth, silencing any sounds of pleasure that you had left in you. 

You were both stiff, eyes wide, and he had his head swung in the direction of the noise. The footsteps approached the counter and turned the sink on. If they were to walk around the corner, they would see Leon’s legs under the door, and could have easily walked in, considering he didn’t shut it all the way, it was just stopped by his body behind it.

He slowly turned his head back to face you, you couldn’t move due to the weight of his hand, and you wanted to writhe under him so bad, feeling his cock throb still deep inside of you while you both were still. Tears were practically forming in your eyes.

He locked eyes with you, and without a sound, mouthed the words Be quiet.

He kept his hand clamped over your mouth, but he slowly adjusted your position so he could slide out of you at a snail’s pace. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting him to move, and you used all of your remaining energy to hold yourself together, being overcome by the pleasure while also staying conscious of the person who was still at the bathroom sink. You were glad there was still music playing outside in the bar, and the sink was still running, because if it were dead silent, they definitely would have been able to hear the wet sound of Leon pulling out, and fucking back in. 

He held eye contact with you while he continued to do this, holding you so tightly to make sure nothing made any noise,and a devilish grin broke out onto his face. He was enjoying every second of this. 

He was basically getting off on the idea of pushing you to your limit, forcing you to obey what he asked you to, even if it would benefit the both of you rather than just one. If Leon were shameless enough, he could have told them to fuck off, but instead, he held you here, silenced you, yet drove you to the fucking brink just to watch you fall apart. It made you want to cum right then and there.

After what felt like ten, twenty, thirty minutes (fifteen seconds), the sink shut off, a moment of silence, and the door creaked open again. Leon took his hand off your mouth and you both sighed deeply. While holding you still, Leon leaned back to look through the door to confirm you were alone once again.

“You were barely holding it together, I thought we were going to get caught.” He said on another thrust into you, bringing your faces closer once again. You swallowed hard, instinctively choking back moans now.

“Y-you… you were making it hard…” Gasps, again, as Leon was determined to make everything he asked of you difficult.

He brought himself closer into you, and spoke lowly. “Good,” With swift moves, his free hand was around your throat, holding your head back, and he was relentlessly bouncing you up and down on his cock.

The pressure around your throat and the pressure building in your core at his movements was all overwhelming, your hands were cutting crescents into his bicep from your nails, but he hardly took notice, he was so busy moving the both of you as well as keeping an eye on your face to watch how you were responding to his movements, he was too preoccupied.

The slick sounds coming from your pussy were evidence that the situation was much more of a stimulant than you ever expected, and the sound alone brought you so close to the edge.

“I bet you loved almost getting caught.” He groaned out, his movements stuttering, and you knew he must be close as well. “I bet it was driving you crazy, having to shut up while I gave it to you. You took it so well.” Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head, mouth open, you wouldn’t even be surprised if you were drooling at this point, Leon had all the power now.

“Leon,” You whispered, no energy for your full voice anymore. He understood.

“Take it, baby.” He thrust harder and harder, pressing you flat against the wall, the tip of his cock hitting all the deepest points. “I’m almost there, you feel so good.”

“Fuck, Leon,” If you could grasp any harder against his arms, you just did. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

“You got it, come on, cum for me.” He pressed his forehead into yours, grinding into you on the inward thrusts, making you fall apart in his arms. A few more thrusts, grinding a few more times, and a squeeze to your throat had you gasping in a silent scream around him, panting wildly letting your orgasm loose. 

He fucked you all the way through it. “Shit, that felt so good, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” You watched him as he chased his own, sweat beads dripping down his face, his hair coated in it. His hips stuttered one more time, and as he released his seed into you, he buried his face into your neck, whimpering and biting again. 

He pulled out of you, and it wasn’t missed by either of you the way his cum dripped out of you and onto the floor. You cracked a small smile when you heard him breathe a laugh.

“I’m sure that’s not the first time this bathroom has seen that.” He looked back up at you, breathing heavily, arms shaking from holding you up. You tapped his arms, hoping your legs were strong enough to stand on your own. He lowered you slowly, making sure you were stable before letting you go.

“I hope that’s what you wanted. I might have gotten ahead of myself.” He was still standing in front of you, neither of you made moves to leave the stall. You leaned against the wall for support.

“I would have stopped you a long time ago if it wasn’t, Leon.” He smiled down at you, breaths steadying out. He nodded his head.

“Coming to the house any time soon?”

You laughed out loud this time. “I’m sleeping over this weekend.” 

He smiled wider at the sound of your laugh. He leaned in and kissed you again. “Can’t wait.”

[talaok]

At the Met

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x actress! reader

summary: You and Pedro, Hollywood's hottest couple, attend the Met Gala together, but when you find out your ex was invited too, things start going sideways.

warning: angst, jealousy, age-gap

a/n: this was a request by the lovely @vawnila but since I am delusional, I decided to merge it with yesterday's event bc this man...

Pt. 2

[ "And here they come! y/n y/l/n and Pedro Pascal, Hollywood's hottest couple!"

"wow, they look amazing" ]

You'd been to the Met before, and so had Pedro, but going as a couple was something much different, especially with all the talk you two had caused in the last six months. There wasn't a magazine or a blog that wasn't talking about your age gap or the way you'd both robbed millions of women and men of the chance to be with Hollywood's most desired bachelor and bachelorette.

The past few months had been a mess, and still, you didn't think you'd ever had that much fun.

Pedro was everything you had ever wished for in a man. he was kind and sweet and funny, and not any less handsome, he was perfect.

So when he took your hands in his as you walked up the carpet, you couldn't help but smile up at him, just for him to meet your glance with the same adoration.

The carpet was the easy part though, what actually scared you, was the dinner.

Being seated next to a bunch of celebrities you didn't know... that was your personal version of hell, but at least this year Pedro was gonna be next to you.

The first part of the dinner went well, the first moments were awkward as you had expected, but then the woman sitting opposite you broke the ice and everyone seemed to relax.

Pedro sensed your tension at times and tried to soothe you by placing his hand on your thigh, or murmuring something to your ear that most times resembled something like "We're almost done, sweetheart".

It was a good table, don't get me wrong, but there was something about knowing you were being watched and filmed and photographed by the world's most popular celebrities that always prevented you from fully calming down.

You were always on edge, only waiting for something bad to happen, until finally, your fear came to life.

You had excused yourself to go to the bathroom and were finding your way through the maze made of chairs and tables arranged in the room, when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey baby"

wait a minute,

you knew that voice.

You turned around, "Hi Nathan"

Of course you'd meet your ex here.

"Funny meeting you here" he grinned

"I had no idea you were coming"

"Neither did I about you, darling," he said, his eyes traveling up and down your body, not even pretending to not be checking you out "You're beautiful as ever" he complimented, his fingers tracing the side of your dress, and you just smiled, rolling your eyes playfully "really" he spoke, his voice lower "You're breathtaking, baby"

"thank you" You felt your cheeks get some involuntary color "You're not so bad yourself, you know?"

"why thank you" he joked "I wanted to find someone to have some fun with, but I think I might just have"

"Nathan..."

"What princess?"

You sighed "You can use my name y'know?"

"oh I know" he reassured "I just know how much you like when I call you names" he murmured, getting closer as he moved some hair away from your face "especially on some occasions"

"Nathan what are you d-"

"c'mon y/n you know what you mean to me," he said, his voice already resembling a beg "I'm not asking for anything, I'm just saying you know we could have fun... like the old times"

"Nathan I-"

"y/n I love you" he confessed, not for the first time since the breakup "You know I love you. I love you so much I can't live without you. This past year has been hell, and I know it's been the same for you. I need you y/n, and you need me, baby, we need each other." he spoke seemingly without taking a single breath, and you were frantically looking around you, praying no one was paying you two any mind "and I know you love me back, just admit it, we could start all over again, just forget all about the past" he implored.

"Nathan I have a boyfriend" you spat out

"who, that grandpa?" he mocked "I know you don't love him, he's just a-a phase, you know you should be with me. Deep down you know" 

You hadn't noticed how his hand had made its way to your arm.

"Let's go now, we can take my car and run away baby"

Your mouth gaped open but before you could speak, a barking voice intervened.

"go where?"

Your eyes traveled to your left, and just as you suspected, they met Pedro's.

Nathan, like the coward that he was, swallowed nervously as he looked back at you.

"nowhere," you said "Don't worry babe" you tried being casual, as you took a step toward your boyfriend, feeling grateful for a way out of that situation "Well it was nice seeing you Nathan, but I better go now," you forced a polite smile at him, as you intertwined your arm with your boyfriend's.

"goodbye buddy," Pedro said, in a more than slightly threatening tone.

"c'mon," you urged him, starting to walk away.

"think about what I said" Nathan spoke again, his tone deprived of all bravery all of a sudden.

You didn't even look back, just started to quicken your pace towards the table (Your need to use the bathroom had been long forgotten) when you felt Pedro tightening his arm's grip as he moved you into the trajectory of a private part of the gallery.

You frowned, once he stopped, looking around at the empty room.

"what is it?"

"What is it?" he repeated, clearly incredulous

"What?"

"What did he tell you?"

"Who"

"y/n..."

"Nathan?" you asked "Babe who cares, you know how he is, he's dumb, there's nothing I can do about it"

"tell me what he told you" you could see perfectly through this calm act.

You sighed "he told me he loves me and that I should run away with him"

"that's it?"

"Yes Pedro, that's it"

"What did you say?"

You gasped, offended and slightly annoyed "What do you think I told him, that I loved him back and to wait for me outside?!"

"What did you tell him?"

"Are you fuckin- I told him that I have a boyfriend"

He nodded perhaps satisfied "He was touching you"

"my arm" you reminded him.

"and your cheek" he reminded you too "this is the last time he does this" he decided "I'm gonna go talk to him"

"No, Pedro-" you grabbed his arm "I can deal with this on my own, plus, you're too mad, you can't go now"

"You've already dealt with this on your own, and it doesn't seem like you've made much progress"

You gasped, now actually mad "This is my problem, Pedro, you don't have anything to do with it"

"It's my problem too when it involves you"

"no, it's not."

"y/n I'm trying to help you"

"well I don't want your help, not with this"

"Why? 'cause it sure looks like you need it"

You scowled at him "fuck you"

"It's the truth y/n this guy's been bothering you since before we got together, that's not fucking normal"

"I know it isn't but I'm dealing with it in my own way"

"and I can't try my way?"

"well, I'm sorry if I don't want you to go out there and punch him, Pedro!" 

He paused, clearly as a part of him wanted to reply that he wouldn't have, another part informed him that there was a high probability he would have, in fact, punched the guy.

"y/n-"

"no you know what, I'm tired of this- this thing you do. I don't need to be saved, I can take care of myself"

"I don't doubt that, but I just wanted to help"

"you know you were not gonna help Pedro" You shot him a look "And I'm tired of this- jealousy" you sighed "I love you, Pedro, you know that, but if you don't trust me I don't understand how we could possibly have a relationship"

"I do trust you"

"then I could go out there and talk to Nathan right now?" you challenged "or you fear he might convince me, and I might run away with him?"

His jaw twitched.

"see" you breathed "just as I predicted"

" y/n-"he tried putting his hands on your waist but you stopped him.

"no, Pedro" you took a step back "Just-" you sighed "I need to be alone"

[ "Someone's coming out, it looks like... Pedro Pascal has just left the Gala"

"Where's the missus?"

"I don't see her"

"well you heard it here first folks, It looks like Pedro Pascal has just left the Met Gala with y/n y/l/n nowhere in sight" ]

Pt. 2

[therealcocoshady]

Coco!! Just wanted to say THANK YOU for indulging another one of my requests and so QUICKLY too. I know you’re busy, busy and I really appreciate it! This was everything I ASKED for and more! Love me some sweet and sexy Marsh 🤍💪🏼🧘🏻‍♀️💦💋🌶️🥵🧸

Hope you enjoy a ☕️ or 2 on me! 😉

A/N : Hi bestie 🌟. Thank YOU for supporting me and being my first ever commission ❤️.

For those of you who didn’t know, you can support my writing by giving tips on my Ko-Fi account and I am now open for commissions as well 😏.

@shady-577 kindly allowed me to post the commission on this blog, too, to I hope y’all enjoy 🌟

Sweat Session

Marshall was a very healthy person and it showed. On your very first date, he’d told you about him trying to lead a healthy lifestyle by maintaining his sobriety, eating well and exercising and, two years into your relationship, he was more than consistent. You had recently moved in together and you got to see just how seriously he took it. And as he was getting ready to drop a new album, perform regularly again and do some promo, he started exercising even more. Not only it kept him fit, but it also helped him deal with his stress. He got up even earlier in the morning to hit the gym and, even though you enjoy the fruits of his labor (what with him being even more buff than before), you were a little grumpy not to have your man in bed with you when you woke up. And since he spent even more time at work, polishing the album and working on the promo, you didn’t see him as much as you liked, which made you a little frustrated.

- You know, you could hit the gym with me, he suggested with a smile when you told him about your annoyance. Might do some good.

- Is this a sneaky way of telling me I’ve gained weight ? You asked as you side-eyed him.

- What ? No ! He immediately said. I’m just saying it’s healthy to exercise. You could wake up a little earlier and join me in the gym.

- Or you could skip a day and stay in bed with me tomorrow morning, you suggested with a charming grin.

- Not happening, doll, he said with a smile. Need to be consistent.

- Fine, you groaned.

With the public appearances and photo shoots he had planned, as well as music videos to shoot, he wanted to look buff. At 51 years old, he didn’t want to be seen as some « aging rapper who let himself go ». And sure enough, the results were there. His chest was chesting and he had Twitter go feral over the outline of his pecs, clearly visible on the latest pics of him at Dre’s Walk of Fame ceremony.

The next day, you woke up to the sound of his alarm going off and let out a groan. He whispered an apology and kissed your forehead before going to the home gym in the basement. You tried to fall back to sleep but without your man by your side, the bed felt cold and empty. That’s when you decided enough was enough. You got up and put on a cute working out outfit, which looked more like underwear than clothes you could actually work out in, consisting of a bra and the tiniest shorts ever. Just enough fabric to highlight your figure and make your ass and breast pop out. When you got downstairs, you saw him working out on an incline bench, absorbed on what he was doing. He was wearing simple sweatpants and sneakers, not even bothering with a teeshirt. The view reminded you of how lucky you were. You looked at him from afar for a good while, him so focused that he didn’t even notice you standing there, practically drooling.

- Hi handsome, you said seductively. Mind if I join you ?

- You decided to get up after- he began. Jesus Christ…

- Yes ? You said innocently.

- You’re gonna work out in these ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

- You don’t like it ? You asked.

- I don’t think that’s enough fabric for me to critique, he hummed.

- Far be it from me to distract you, you said with a smile. Unless…

- I have to work out, babe, he said with a frown. But you’re welcome to join.

You shrugged. You’d been dating for a while but, clearly, he should know better than to assume you didn’t have more tricks up your sleeve. You kicked off your sneakers and grabbed a yoga mat, strategically placing it so that he’d have a good view. You started stretching, going from pose to pose. He kept on working out next to you, though you could see his gaze.

- Like what you see ? You hummed.

- Making sure you’re doing it right, he said with a grin.

- Sure, you giggled.

He got up while you were in downward facing dog and put a hand on your hip, helping you stretch your back a little.

- You know, these tiny shorts don’t hide much, he whispered in your ear. Especially not in this pose.

- Oh yeah ? You asked as you switched to a three-legged down dog that gave him an even better view.

- Fuck, he muttered under his breath.

You kept your flow going under his watchful eye, looking at you as if you were a snack.

- I think my flexibility is not too bad, you remarked.

- It’s really good, he mumbled. Really good.

- Thank you for correcting my posture, my love, you said innocently. Let me repay the favor and spot you.

He hummed and laid back on the inclined bench, grabbing some halters, working on his arms. You gently ran your hand on his biceps, feeling how much bigger they had gotten in the past weeks.

- So muscular, you said seductively. You are so strong…

- Am I ? He mused.

- And that chest, you continued. It’s all for the « Stan » shirt lift for your upcoming tour, isn’t it ?

He looked at you with a grin, knowing this particular move drove you absolutely crazy. You watched him exercise. He clearly didn’t need you to spot him, and you knew it, but this allowed you to stare. He sat back up and grabbed his water bottle, taking a big gulp. You were staring at each other with « fuck me eyes » and you could tell he was trying hard not to give in to the temptation.

- You’re awfully distracting, woman, he said.

- Maybe you need to take a little break, you suggested. I think it’s time you were shown some appreciation for all this hard work…

He smiled and playfully shook his head before taking another gulp of water. Some of it missed his mouth and trailed down his neck and chest. You stepped closer and ran your tongue on his neck, catching the iced liquid. He let out a groan, letting you know how pleasurable it was.

- Let’s not be wasteful with water, now, you said seductively. Oh, I think I missed some…

You proceeded to kiss his chest, catching the water with your mouth. You took advantage of the moment and placed a kiss on one of his pecs. He chuckled and pulled you to him so that you’d sit in his lap before kissing you passionately.

- You’re impossible, he hummed between kissed. I can’t focus.

- And you’re a fucking tease, you retorted as you kissed him back. I’m only human, you know ?

- I’ll give you teasing, he grinned.

With one movement of his knee, he had you spread your legs for him, before running his fingers on the inside of your thigh. You hummed in pleasure as his hand got dangerously close to your pussy, eventually cupping it over the thin fabric of your shorts, making you sigh in pleasure.

- Is this what you wanted ? He asked playfully.

- Yes, you whined.

There was nothing more you loved than to sit in his lap, his arms around you, free to run his hands across your body. He knew it and he happily obliged, keeping on teasing you over your clothes, cupping your breasts and grazing your nipples with his fingers. He freed one of your boobs from your sports bra and pinched the nipple, making you moan in pleasure. You automatically started grinding against his thigh, your body desperate for some release.

- Look at this, he chuckled. You don’t need me to take care of you. Looks like you’re doing it on your own.

- Please, you asked breathily. Marshall.

- Patience, love, he whispered in your ear before letting his hand go back to your pussy.

He played with you over the fabric, no doubt feeling how wet you were. His head was buried in your neck and you could feel his smile against your skin. You kept on moaning, desperate for more. Eventually, you took matters in your own hands and knelt between his legs. You decided to put him through the same misery and stroked his high through his sweatpants, going higher and higher with each motion. Even through the fabric, you could see his growing bulge. You looked up to him and saw that he was looking in the mirror across the room, admiring the view of you, kneeling for him.

- You’re so beautiful in this position,he said as he ran a hand through your hair.

- Keep enjoying the view, then, you suggested with a smirk.

You tugged at his sweats and he lifted his hips to allow you to lower them, eventually kicking his sneakers so that you’d remove the whole thing, along with his boxers. There was something about him, naked on the bench, his massive erection showing you how excited he was. You stroked his cock and gave it a few pumps before approaching your face.

- I could leave you like this, you mused. Like you’ve left me alone in our bed…

- Babe, no, he pleaded. Please.

You thoroughly enjoyed reversing the power dynamic. By the look he was giving you, you could tell that he was wrapped around your finger, eating in the palm of your hand. You gave him a mischievous grin and started licking the tip of his cock, earning sighs of pleasure in the process. You kept on stroking the length while kitten licking the head, knowing it drove him crazy, that he wanted nothing more than for you to take all of him in your mouth. Eventually, you did and he moaned loudly, still holding on to your hair. You kept on sucking him, hollowing your cheeks to pleasure him even more. You took as much as you could, making you drool all over his cock. You stared at him from below and saw he was bemused by the reflection of you sucking him in the mirror. You could feel him twitch inside of your mouth, a sign that he was about to come.

- Stop, he warned.

- You can come, you said as you kept on stroking him.

- Don’t want to, he said. Not yet.

He helped you get up and kissed you hungrily before undressing you. He sat back and pulled you so that you’d straddle his lap, giving him an opportunity to suck on your tits while grabbing a handful of your ass. He lined himself at your entrance and inserted himself, making you whimper. There it was. What you’d been craving. The sole sensation of him inside you was heavenly. His mouth traveled between your nipple and your neck, proving that he knew your sweet spots all too well.

- is this what you wanted ? He asked breathily.

- Yes, you whispered.

He started thrusting his hips slowly, making sure to bottom into you and hit your sweet spot. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him sloppily, dying to be close to him as ever. The making out was hotter than ever and you always wanted more, desperate for some release, knowing this man could make you come like no one else before him.

- Faster, you begged. Harder. Please.

He gave you a smirk and carried you to another bench that was slightly higher. He had you on your knees, ass up and face down and penetrated you roughly, making you scream before thrusting violently. He was going so fast that you had trouble catching your breath. But at the same time, it was so good, so hot to have him use you. His thrusts became slower again and he put your hair in a makeshift ponytail, forcing you to look in a mirror in front of you. You could see your faces twisting in pleasure. His gaze met yours and he gave you a smirk before quickening his pace. He closed his eyes and all hell broke loose. His hips moved faster than ever, hitting you deep. There was no doubt that you’d be sore for the following days but, in the instant, neither of you cared, lost in the pleasure. You moved your hips in sync, trying to keep up with him. You didn’t want it to end and, yet, you could feel you were both so close to climax. The coup de grâce came when he looped a hand around you to reach and rub your swollen clit, making you cry in ecstasy. You could feel your juices flowing, forming a puddle underneath you, in which you inevitably collapsed, Marshall on top of you.

The both of you stayed still and silent for a minute, taking the time to catch your breath. Marshall buried his head in the crook of your neck, placing a chaste kiss there that made you shiver.

- Are you alright, love ? He asked as he got up.

- Y-yes, you replied as you were still struggling to breathe properly.

He chuckled and got up with a grunt, grabbing a towel to clean you and a water bottle to help you hydrate. You let him clean you and sat up on the bench, taking a good look at his naked form. In spite of rocking a buzz cut, he still looked disheveled and insanely sexy.

- You’re so hot, you said lovingly.

- Is that why you jumped on me ? He asked with a smirk.

- Maybe, you giggled. Been missing you, lately.

He gave you a smile and wrapped you in his strong arms before kissing you.

- Missed you too, he said. But you do realize you’re the main reason I’m doing all of this for, don’t you ?

- Am I ? You mused.

- Of course, he hummed. When I’m making music, I think of how much I want you to be proud. And when I’m here… my main motivation is you. I want to look good for you. You’re always on my mind.

You cooed and kissed him tenderly. He was too adorable.

- Well, I am proud of you. And I do think you look incredible me you complimented. I’m proud to be yours.

- I love you, he said. How about a shower before you need to go to work ?

- Ok, you said with a pout.

You got up and he grabbed you by the waist before leading you out of the home gym.

- I like fucking you in here, he hummed. I can’t believe we waited so long for this, though.

- We’ll have to do it again, you said with a smile. I can think of a few creative ways to use that gym equipment.

- Oh believe me, next time I’m putting those resistance bands to good use, he chuckled. I guess it completes the tour of the house. We’ve officially done it in every room of the house.

- Does that make me a permanent resident ? You grinned.

- It does, he chortled.

- Oh no, there’s one room missing, though, you said.

He looked at you with a frown, knowing exactly where you were going with this. He sternly shook his head as he led you to the stairs.

- Nope, he said. Don’t even thing about it. We’re not doing it in the hope studio. I have rules.

- We’ll see, you grinned.

- I’m not going to cave in, he warned.

- You know I like a challenge, you said innocently. Besides… you love me. You wouldn’t be able to refuse.

He chuckled, failing to keep the annoyed look on his face. You knew he loved you being all needy, and that there was only so much charm offensive he could resist.

- We’ll see, he hummed before bringing your hand to his lips and then placing a loving kiss on your ring finger.

[identifying-cars-in-posts]

A long overdue update:

Hi everyone. Long time no see. I literally have not opened Tumblr since the last time I posted here. Hope everyone is doing ok. Figured I owed y’all an apology and explanation for kinda just vanishing.

First, I did in fact get a car! It’s a 2015 Nissan Versa Note. I don’t particularly like it but a friend gave me a deal on it that I couldn’t turn down. Once my life stabilizes I’m probably going to sell it and buy an old truck, maybe a 70s Ford. I’d love a little sports car or a land yacht but rear wheel drive is a bit impractical for brutal New England winters, and the Jeep really put me in Old American Truck Mode. But yes I have a car now!

Second, unfortunately this is an official notice of hiatus. When I last posted saying I was taking some time off it was because I had just had an incredibly stressful move and did not have the energy to keep this blog up. I figured I’d take some time to get settled in, relax, and then pick this back up after a week or two, but the last month has been really rough - the short version is one of the people I was living with turned out to be a pretty horrendous human being who managed to get everybody living in the house essentially kicked out via sheer drama. Within a month and a half. It’s a long story but tl:dr if you quite literally slander a property manager with heavy unfounded accusations of horrible crimes, they’ll probably bail from the whole situation. And since they’re gone the landlord has to hand ownership of everything over to a company that’s forcing everyone still here to vacate. I’m now fighting to not have to live in aforementioned Nissan Versa through the aforementioned brutal New England winter. On top of that, I’m a retail manager so we’re going into our busiest most stressful season, so that’s been an extra level of exhaustion.

So what does that mean for this blog? Well, as I said, I’m officially going on indefinite hiatus, as are the projects I was working on in relation, including the reference website. I’m really sorry, I’m just way too stressed and dealing with way too much. If I could, I would just hand off administrative power to someone else, but this is a sideblog so I can’t hand off login credentials without also giving access to my main/personal account. It’s my biggest regret of this account, but when I started it I never expected it to blow up the way it did back in September - I had no reason to expect to need it to be its own entirely separate blog. I love what I was doing here and I thought that it might even be a nice distraction from everything going on, but the upkeep required with this blog is just more than I can deal with right now. I hope that things settle down soon and that I can genuinely come back here and enjoy what I was doing, but I just need literally anything to level out in my real life and to not be in 100% survival mode, because at the moment I literally do not have the energy to pour into this.

Anyway. Sorry for the long post, I’m not good at not being overly verbose. I’m really sorry for kind of abandoning this project, and I hope I can get back to it relatively soon, it just might be a while.

In the mean time, I hope those of y’all who I turned onto cars as a potential hobby find some other good outlets! I highly recommend Donut Media’s series “Up to Speed” on YouTube, as well as the channels Regular Car Reviews, Doug DeMuro, Garbage Time, and Aging Wheels. All great YouTube channels that are both informative and very approachable and fun.

Godspeed and much love. Hope to see y’all soon

- Identifying Cars in Posts admin ❤️

[satvruu]

ೀ how they hug you

rewritten and reposted of my hc set from my old blog @/star-puff! thank you to all my old dedications as well as my new ones @kurooppi @wyllsravengard for making my return to this fandom possible <3

feedback is very appreciated!

ft. yuuji, megumi, gojo, getou, nanami

itadori yuuji embraces you warmly, fondly, sunlight streaming through the window and scattering over your bare skin. it's someplace safe and comforting, enveloped in his arms like he's taken it upon himself to protect you from everything horrible in the world; he is your knight, he is your shield, your safe haven to escape to, no matter how many wounds he will endure in the process. ("yuuji," you whisper, a hand coming up to rest gently on his arm. he bleeds desperation. "i'm okay, i promise." yuuji squeezes you tighter, trembling, and you wonder what you can do to make it true for him, too.) he holds you for far too long for it to be anything casual, but you can't really complain about it anyway—it's better this than to witness the alternative. after all, what is the sun without a place to hold its warmth; what becomes of a hero when they fail to protect the things that matter most?

fushigurou megumi comes to you slow, steady, a ripple of water in the pond. you coax him out gently, holding your arms out before wrapping them around him. his breath hitches (always, no matter how many times he tries to hide it) and his body stiffens, arms frozen at his sides. but slowly, surely, your head buried in his chest, megumi's arms begin to wrap around you in a manner you can only describe as tender—as if you could break if he held onto you too tight. (truthfully, megumi thinks he's just afraid. the jujutsu world is a dangerous one, after all, even to those who only know of it by name. megumi has lost too many people, and you're the one person he can't afford to lose.) he flinches at the thought, pulling away. you draw yourself closer in him, instead. moonlight behind the clouds, you'd gladly hold onto this night forever if it meant megumi was by your side.

gojo satoru is known as many things—a child prodigy, the strongest, a boy-god making his presence known on the lowly earth, but to you, he is simply just obnoxious. satoru makes it a spectacle each time he sees you: hollering, gallivanting, draping himself over you with his long limbs and impossible-to-miss frame. you huff and complain and uselessly try to drag yourself away from him each time, but satoru hooks onto you and refuses to let you go, nuzzling his face into yours. (they're mine, the action screams, a blaring warning to anyone unfortunate enough to get caught in the collateral. you've been too caught up in your irritation of him to notice this, of course, and you're certainly not someone who would take the explicit meaning of it kindly, but satoru finds that he doesn't really care. not when he has more important things to attend to.) gojo satoru is many things, but the one thing he absolutely isn't is someone who can share.

getou suguru smells of sandalwood incense, a musky amber you think you could identify blind. sometimes, you think you remember a different suguru, a kinder suguru, one that had easier things to worry about, a brighter look in his eyes, an easier weight to his gait. if you think back far enough, you suppose it might have been because he had somebody else by his side to keep it that way, a brighter light shining next to him to keep the darkness at bay. (but that was a long time ago. now, suguru is the one left to be lit by the fire, stuck in the ashes of his own kin for a future little understand. you're not sure who is to blame for that anymore.) you're not the light that can save him—no one can be, not anymore. when suguru reaches out to you, rare vulnerability bubbling over in a way you can only describe as drowning—as crumbling—the only thing you can do is curl yourself next to him in the incense burner, smearing yourself in the ash.

nanami kento thinks you need this, especially after a long, hard day. the melting comes slow: his hands on your back, gentle pats and quiet whispers of comfort as he rests his chin on your head. and then comes everything else. his hands slot perfectly into the dip of your back, the small of your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles over the fabric of your clothes, and in the eyes of no one but yourselves, the two of you begin to sway back and forth to a quiet melody nanami begins to hum. you cling onto the fabric of his shirt, trying to memorie the smell of his cologne, the rumble of his voice, the warmth of his arms. (it's too much, to have a memory of a future that will inevitably happen. you almost want to cry. don't go, you want to say, a lump in your throat, wishing for the impossible. don't go.) and still, selfish as you are, nanami hugs you like you're slow dancing in the dark.

[bucksangel]

don't worry, darling

pairing: avenger!bucky x civilian!reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: even though bucky is mostly healed, that doesn’t mean his nightmares go away. and a particular grueling mission brings back memories he’d rather forget. 

warnings: angsttttt, hella fluff at the end though, hurt/comfort, talk of bucky’s trauma and abuse, brief mentions of murder of a hydra agent (he deserves it), nightmares, reader is here to love and comfort bucky, also civil war and everything after didn’t happen and they all live at the tower and everything is fine bc i said so

a/n: even though this does not contain smut, my blog is 18+ so minors dni. also i wanted to write something short and sweet to get my creative juices flowing and yet, as always, i managed to go overboard

tip jar | masterlist

It started with a whimper, a small one. Barely detectable if you weren’t already awake and snuggled against Bucky’s body. He’s lying on his side facing you with you mirroring his position, arms wrapped around each other and your head tucked into his chest. You’ve been having a hard time sleeping for the last week and a half due to Bucky being gone on a mission that didn’t allow him to contact you at all. Your restless nights were mostly due to worrying over your boyfriend’s safety, something you always do whenever he leaves. It was worse this time around, though.

It was a day before he was supposed to leave, and you knew you weren’t supposed to listen in on other people’s private conversations, but you just couldn’t help yourself. You’d come home early from work one day to find Steve and Bucky in your shared home office, stopping outside the door and getting ready to knock when you overheard something about an upcoming mission. It seemed pretty important so you decided not to interrupt them, though you couldn’t force yourself to walk away.

You’re never allowed to know anything about what Bucky’s missions entail, and some part of you wanted to listen in on their conversation to hopefully ease any worries about what might be happening to him since you’ll have a general idea of where they’re going and what they’re doing. 

According to Steve, although it was going to be a four-day mission, it was supposed to be relatively simple. Or, it would’ve been simple if it weren’t for the fact that the building they were being sent to scout was an old Hydra facility somewhere in Russia. The same Hydra facility where Bucky was held captive.

Upon hearing this piece of information you wanted to barge into the room and tell Steve off for letting Bucky be a part of this mission. It’s been nearly five years since he escaped and Bucky has mostly readjusted, has recovered from his trauma as much as one can after being tortured for decades. And you’ll be damned if anything jeopardizes that progress.

But you’d also overheard Bucky agreeing with the plans, helping Steve strategize, and going over all the information that needed to be obtained. And it wasn’t your place to tell Bucky what he could and couldn’t do. As much as you wanted to demand that he not go, he was his own person. And if he thought he could handle this mission then you’d have to find a way to support him.

The four-day mission turned into eight and by the sixth day with still no contact, you’d marched into the tower and demanded Fury call you with any and all updates he received. He said he would in a tone that made you believe he wouldn’t give you every detail, but it did help reassure you that if anything happened to Bucky then you wouldn’t be kept totally in the dark. It was nerve-wracking in the worst way, obsessively thinking over what Bucky could be going through - physically and mentally.

But on the eighth day, Fury had called you on your lunch break at work to tell you that Bucky was on his way back to the Tower and would probably be back at your apartment by early evening after the briefing and check-up in the medical wing.

All of your nerves and anxieties that built up over the last week were immediately replaced with relief flooding your body, your heart finally unclenching at knowing that Bucky would be back in a few short hours. One good thing about your job is that you don’t technically need to be in the office every day. As long as you get your work done you’re pretty much given free rein to leave whenever you want, and you’d finished your stack of paperwork maybe fifteen minutes before the phone call.

You gathered up your things quickly and stopped by your boss's office to wish her a good weekend, then made your way to your car to head home. Your heartbeat was increasing ever so slightly the closer you got to your apartment, and you had to remind yourself to focus on driving instead of daydreaming of being back in Bucky’s arms.

When you did finally get home, you made quick work of cleaning the entire apartment; changing your bed sheets, doing laundry, then pulling out food from the fridge to make dinner. You’d actually just gotten the chicken out of the oven when the front door opened, and your excitement at finally seeing your boyfriend again forced you to run out of the kitchen and down the hall. But you stopped a good six feet from the door, standing still at seeing Bucky’s bruised face and scabbed knuckles.

“Bucky?” You asked softly, finally noticing the spacey look in his eyes, the way they seemed to be glazed over.

Bucky smiled at you, though it was more of a grimace, and you could tell it was mostly forced but he still wanted to acknowledge you. He approached you slowly, and you stood still so you would not startle him - he just seemed so on edge. He stopped not even a foot away from you, had stared down at you with a look in his eyes you hoped you would never see again - it was such an empty gaze, almost emotionless. There was no life in his eyes. It didn’t feel like the dead gaze was directed at you specifically, it was more like Bucky just couldn’t muster up any emotion at all.

That’s when you knew. Something went wrong.

Slowly, he brought up his right hand and placed it on the back of your head, tilting it up so he could really look at you, letting his gaze linger on your lips. Instead of kissing them, he leans forward to press a kiss on your forehead, wrapping his left arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest. He didn’t speak as he slowly tucked you into his body, and you didn’t dare break the silence either, you simply wrapped your arms around his body as well, squeezing him tightly to let him know that you were there. You were there for him - physically, mentally, and emotionally, and you needed him to know that.

After maybe five minutes of no one speaking, of simply standing in the front hallway embracing each other, you decided to finally say something.

“I made dinner,” You whispered, running one of your hands up and down Bucky’s back. You pulled your head off of his chest but didn’t loosen your hold. “Chicken and mashed potatoes. I even made apple pie.”

Bucky’s mouth twitched again, and his attempted smile felt a little more genuine this time. His glassy eyes were filled with tears now, and he seemed oh so close to crying. You’d never seen him like this before, he was always happy, and smiling, even on days when he wouldn’t say it but you knew he still resented himself for his time as the soldier he would indulge in his hobbies to help him cope. But you’ve never seen him shut down before, and this is what this felt like.

You weren’t too sure how to help him, how to comfort him. But you had an inkling he might need some time to himself.

“How about you go shower and I can put the food away for later,” You said with a soft smile, speaking up again before Bucky had the chance to feel guilty, “I ate a couple of hours ago, I’m fine baby. Go shower.”

You lifted up on your toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, letting him squeeze you to his chest one more time before he released you, slumping off down the hall to the bathroom.

That was two days ago, and Bucky hasn’t spoken more than a few words at a time since. Now, it’s not like he’s avoiding you, he’s actually a little more clingy than he normally is. You can tell he wants to say something, to tell you what had happened, he just doesn’t know how. He hasn’t told you everything about what happened to him during his time as the soldier, but you know enough and don’t push him to say anything he doesn’t want to.

At night, Bucky will go out onto the small terrace outside of your apartment and stare up at the stars for hours. You don’t sit with him for all of it, just for about one hour - cuddled close to his body and talking softly and mindlessly about anything you can think of, anything that might help Bucky open up. Then, around nine or ten, you’ll give him a lingering kiss on his cheek, one on his temple, and one final kiss on his lips before going to bed, letting Bucky be alone with himself and his thoughts.

Tonight, though, Bucky’s decided to climb into bed with you soon after dinner. You both showered together, washing each other’s bodies and sharing a few lingering kisses under the spray of the shower head. You didn’t go any further, but you did make sure to spend extra time massaging his shoulders and back, placing kisses everywhere you could reach.

It’s one in the morning now, and you hear another whimper. Bucky shifts beside you, tightening his hold on you ever so slightly. Another whine. 

“Bucky?” You whisper, careful to not disturb the silence too much.

He responds with a mumbled ‘please’. Then, ‘no’.

“Buck? Baby?” You say a little louder, shifting in his hold but not able to move much due to his arms being wound around your body.

He shudders, pulling you further into him as his breathing picks up. He’s having a nightmare. Now, despite him being mostly healed, he still does have nightmares. They’ve lessened over the years, but they never truly go away.

When he’s in this mindset, you’re careful not to move too much and startle him awake. So, you simply shimmy your arm from under one of his so you can push on his chest and gently ease him onto his back. It takes a little more force than you’d like, but you’re eventually able to lay him flat on his back and untangle your body from his.

“Baby?” You whisper a little louder, placing your hand on the side of his face and rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. “Bucky.”

He groans; louder, desperate. He’s in pain. You run your hand down his face, down his neck, then land on his chest, right above his heart. It’s increased rapidly, and you can see beads of sweat coat his forehead.

“Bucky.” Your voice is pleading, and you push on his chest a little, now hoping to startle him awake before it gets worse. You don’t want to keep him in this nightmare, so you shake him again.

“Bu-” You’re stopped short by him gasping, his eyes shooting open and his body lifting off the bed slightly as he wakes up. Relief fills your body, and you sigh gratefully. You hate when he’s in pain, whether physical or mental, but you hate not being able to do anything about it even more.

Bucky doesn’t move right away, he squeezes his eyes closed and clenches his fists momentarily. Then, when you place your hand on his cheek, his whole body goes limp, relaxing into the sheets under your touch.

“Baby,” He whispers hoarsely. “I…” He chokes back a sob, and you’re quick to adjust yourselves so you’re laying on your back and he’s laying almost entirely on top of you with his head on your chest right above your heart. He starts crying then, really crying. His arms wrap themselves around your midsection, and you wrap yours around his body as well, cradling him close to you.

“It’s okay, darling. It’s okay, you’re okay,” You mumble into his ear, pressing kisses anywhere you can reach. You continue cooing at him, whispering reassurances and declarations of love until his cries taper off into small whimpers and sniffles. You’re really worried now. Yeah, Bucky isn’t shy about expressing his emotions, and you’ve held him after nightmares and through the aftermath of difficult missions when he comes home disheartened. But he’s never been so vulnerable, and you want nothing more than to hold him close and protect him from everything bad in the world.

Silence envelops the both of you for a while. You want to allow Bucky to speak when he’s ready. And he does so after a couple of minutes.

“There was an agent; Alix, I think. I - I don’t remember his last name, but…” Bucky pauses, and you take the opportunity to place a kiss on his forehead. “For the last five or so years of me being… him, Alix was there. He’d… Any time I failed a mission, he’d be there. Out of all the Hydra agents that I’ve ever come in contact with… his punishments were the worst.”  He pauses again, sniffling softly and nuzzling his face into your chest.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” You whisper, bringing your hand up to his hair so you can run your fingers through his locks. Bucky shakes his head softly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

“He was there. When Steve, Natasha, and I went to the facility last week, Alix was there. And he… I don’t know. I saw him and I just went blank, my mind shut off. I know I promised I wouldn’t kill anymore, I know. I just… He just hurt me so fucking much.”

Bucky starts crying again, and you have to force yourself not to cry as well. You want to be here to support him, not break down as well because then he’ll feel guilty. He always says you’re one of the most important people in his life - Steve obviously being another one - and that seeing you cry makes him want to go feral on whoever or whatever made you sad.

“I had to,” he says, muffled by his face tucking into your neck. “I just. I couldn’t not. I thought I was ready, I thought I could go there and be okay. But I wasn’t. I… He broke me.” Bucky trails off, sighing heavily before he goes quiet again, giving you time to process this information.

“Baby,” You say, prompting Bucky to hum in acknowledgment. “Can you look at me, please?”

You know it takes a lot of effort, but he does. Bucky lifts his head from your neck, looking into your eyes with overwhelming sorrow. Bending your head, you place a quick kiss on his lips.

“This might sound odd, but I’m proud of you. You thought you were healed enough to do it, you went through the planning and probably had to hype yourself up a lot to even agree to the mission. And that’s immense progress. The fact that you even felt ready, even if you ultimately weren’t, you pushed through it and finished the mission. And that’s something to be celebrated. Sometimes recovery can be set back by certain events, but that doesn’t mean that everything else you’ve accomplished is set back as well. You tried, and I’m proud of you.”

With that said, you give Bucky another kiss, lingering a little longer this time before pulling back and holding his gaze.

“And I know you promised to not kill anyone, but I don’t blame you in this situation. I don’t know what this says about me, but even though I don’t know exactly how you killed him, and I don’t think I want to honestly, I do know he deserved far worse than what you gave him. He’s just lucky I wasn’t there because I genuinely don’t know what I would have done if I saw him.”

Bucky’s mouth forms into the smallest of smiles, and you can’t help but want to burn the world to the ground if it means he was protected from the harm it brought him.

“I know you’re the man, and that, stereotypically, men are supposed to be the protector, the provider, but you also deserve to be protected, to have everything you could ever want. And I want to give that to you. I know you are your own person and you do a damn well job of taking care of yourself, but I also want to take care of you. I want to protect you from everything bad, everything that’s ever harmed you, and everything that could potentially harm you in the future.”

You place a kiss on his forehead, squeezing the arm that’s around his upper back to hug him tighter to you.

“You’re the love of my life, baby. Now and forever.”

Bucky shudders slightly, leaning up to kiss your jaw, then one to your cheek, one on the corner of your mouth, and one final kiss to your lips. Your hand continues to run through his hair, tugging at it slightly, causing your boyfriend to sigh in contentment and tighten his hold on you as well. You’re locked in the embrace for a long moment, his lips gliding over yours as the kiss remains relatively chaste. But then, he pulls away.

“Darling,” He says, and for the first time in two days, he finally looks like he’s getting back to his old self. “I - I don’t think I’m ready to talk about everything that happened during the mission right now, I kind of just want to hear you talk so I can get my mind off of it for a little if that’s okay?” He looks a bit nervous asking for that, but you’re quick to nod, offering him a smile of your own. Bucky smiles a tad bit wider and removes one of his arms from around your body so he can slowly reach up and take hold of your hand that’s still running through his hair. Stubble tickles your palm as Bucky presses his lips there, then turns his gaze up to look into your eyes.

“I can’t even describe how much I love you. It scares me, sometimes, the things I would do for you. I need you to know that I will do everything I can to make you as happy and safe as you make me. You’re just… you’re incredible. And I can’t thank you enough for how much you’ve helped me over the past two years that we’ve been together, even the entire year before we started dating when we were just friends.”

His eyes start watering for a whole other reason now. Bucky looks so damn in love that you’d think it hurt, and you would know because that’s exactly how you feel about him.

“I - I know we haven’t talked about it, and I don’t even have a ring, but I can’t ever imagine loving anyone as much as I love you. I’m devoted to you, now and forever. I don’t know how you feel, but if you’re ever willing to…” He pauses, and you feel your heartbeat increase rapidly, a sudden happiness flooding your body.

“If I were to one day ask you to marry me, would you say yes?”

You’ve never nodded faster in your life, nor have you ever said ‘yes’ so quickly to anything Bucky has asked.

The large sigh of relief your boyfriend lets out lets you know he’s probably been thinking about this for a while, and you would swear your heart is about to burst from how much you love this man as you hold him close to your chest and place absentminded kisses on his forehead, cheeks, lips, the top of his head.

Everything stays silent for a few minutes, letting the conversation taper off. That is, until Bucky puts his head back on your shoulder, lacing his fingers with yours and bringing your hands up to kiss your knuckles.

“Can you talk to me?”

Humming in agreement, you run your hand that’s still on his back up and down in a soothing motion.

“Do you want to hear about how Sam almost broke his arm last week?”