#im trying not to let it get to me but it’s hard

[sugucide]

one thing about satoru gojo is that he's a freak.

he'll try anything once, and then three more times for good measure. anything! as long as it ends with him emptying his balls, prefer on or inside of you, he's a very happy man to entertain your weird requests.

this, though, is too weird!

"you want to have vanilla sex?" he gawks at you.

you're laying back on his bed, bare and smiling up at him as he climbs over you. he's hard, sure, but he's not flooded with the excitement of your usual ideas.

"why don't i put the collar back on?" he suggests tapping the tip of your nose. "oh! or we could play with those candles again... or you could make me squirt... no? roleplay? anal? some music, at least?"

you shake your head, and if you weren't so damn cute satoru might be more upset than he is. "you know," you start, "plenty of couples have plain sex regularly. i just want to feel you."

"we aren't like most couples," he grimaces. "im the strongest. and you're the sexiest. i don't think she's physically capable of having boring sex with you, baby."

"stop calling your dick a she," you stare up at him. "please? you said you'd try anything."

satoru kisses your lips gently, as boringly as he can do without getting too worked up. you are naked underneath him, after all. "i said that hoping you'd propose pegging me. or letting me put that dildo of yours down your throat while i—"

"just fuck me," you whisper.

and because satoru is secret a lover before he is a freak, he complies. with a gentle nod and a few seconds to line himself up with you, he pushes inside and lets you lock your legs around his waist before he starts a gentle pace with you.

it feels good, of course, it's you. but there's something sweet to the way he fucks you— no, makes love to you, that isn't there when gags and blindfolds and candle wax are in the way. it's just you and him, eyes locked as he becomes whole with you in the most intimate way possible.

he realises, when your eyes flutter shut and you pull him impossibly closer to whisper sweet nothings in his ear, that he might just like boring sex.

"i love you so much," he coos. "like having you like this. just us. god i love you, baby. i think i needed this."

the two of you cum in sync with eachother. you shake and tighten around his cock and he spills into you with sweet moans that sound a little more raw and vulnerable than they usually do. he kisses you silly, peppers his lips all over your face until you're laughing underneath him.

and he pulls back to look at your face, and nods to himself. you smile, and push his white hair out of his face with a gentle tilt of your head.

"what's that look for?" you ask.

and that's when you notice the tears welling in his eyes. the tremble of his lip as he recognises a million different feelings at once. and with a sniffle, and a shaky breath, he grins.

"let's get married."

[minswriting]

sex with hotch while he has the vest on 🤭 holding onto the straps on his side for dear life as he fucks into you 🤭🤭 he still has all of his clothes on but his pants are pulled down just enough for his cock because he couldn’t wait to fuck you 🤭🤭🤭

AHHHHHH you’ve got me fucked up thinking about this man. i’m also so tired so if this sucks im so sorry lol

nsfw | mdni | aaron hotchner x reader | no foreplay, unprotected sex, quickies

just thinking about how you guys would be getting back to the Bureau, still dressed in the bulletproof vests because you didn’t have any time to take them off. and aaron just looks so unbelievably attractive in a bulletproof vest, ESPECIALLY when he’s wearing just a polo underneath.

the adrenaline from the intense situation was still high in everyone as everyone walked inside, finally taking off their vests and such. except, when no one is looking, you drag aaron into the bathroom before he could take his vest off because you just desperately needed him right then and there. you locked the door behind you.

nothing was spoken between either of you. the adrenaline and desperation just encased the two of you as he pulled down his pants just enough for you to take his cock. and you took your pants off completely to allow aaron full access. “couldn’t wait until later, baby?” he’d murmur into your ear as he placed you onto the sink counter.

you shook your head no, wrapping your arms around aaron’s neck. “need you so bad,” you whispered back.

aaron hummed, grabbing his cock and lining it up to your pussy. he teased you slightly, running his cock along your slit. “how are you so wet?” he whispered, pressing kisses onto your neck.

“you’re so hot,” you whispered back, letting out a shaky breath when aaron lines himself up at your hole. and when he starts to ease himself into you, it took everything in your power to not moan as neither of you wanted to raise suspicion.

and when aaron is fully inside of you, he doesn’t hesitate to fuck you hard and fast. you guys were in the bathroom in a government owned building. there was no time to take things slowly like you usually did. your hands moved down to aaron’s vest, grabbing the straps that were on the side and gripping them as aaron slammed his hips into you.

you leaned forward to bury your head into his shoulder, trying to silent any noises that threatened to come out. only the tiniest of whimpers left your mouth as aaron’s cock fucked you thoroughly.

“fuck, you feel so good, princess,” aaron whispered, breathing heavily into your ear. you wrapped your legs around him, bringing him deeper into you.

you let out a small whine, causing you to slap a hand over your mouth. the desperation in aaron’s thrusts was so much. his cock hit your sweet spot with every move, making it so hard for you not to moan like a whore. “i-i’m so close,” you whispered, your breathing shaky.

“me too.”

it didn’t take long for either of you to cum. the pure neediness that you both felt overpowered anything else. you came so hard that you were scared that you hurt aaron’s cock with how hard you were clenching around him. but the small whimper he let out showed you that he loved the feeling as not even two seconds later, he was spilling his seed inside of you.

and with a small kiss to your lips, aaron pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants. the both of you took a minute to catch your breaths. “i’ll see you out there in a few minutes,” aaron whispered before kissing your lips once more. he unlocked the bathroom door and walked out, closing the door behind him.

you quickly grabbed your pants, pulling them back on. and after about five minutes, you walked out of the bathroom as well. aaron was in his office, already had taken the vest off, as if he didn’t just fuck you in the bathroom not even ten minutes ago.

which was alright because when you guys got home, you rode him on the couch, showing him just how needy you really were at seeing him in his bulletproof vest.

[snoopychris]

phone calls

warnings: slight mommy kink, edging if you squint, misuse of technology, lowkey inspired by this post

12:04 

chris

chris

baby

12:05

hello?

it’s cold

and raining

12:06

can you just come let me in

12:07 

dude the gym closes at 1:30 so that they can do a midday clean btw.

12:08

hello???

????

omfg 

you piss me off

12:09

HELLO?!?!?!?

are you fucking kidding me

you’re unbelievable 

12:10

whatever i’m going home 

text me if u want.

you spun swiftly on your heels, the light jacket you were wearing wrapped tightly around your frame. it was never normal for chris to not answer his texts, especially when he got so many of them. especially when they were from you. when you were halfway down the stairs, the door behind you swung open. the heavy breathing that was coming from chris quickly got your attention. your immediate reaction was that he was having some sort of asthma attack. 

your worry subsided when you noticed the small wet spot that was on the front of his sweats. he swallows in embarrassment, licking his lips as he looks down at the floor in shame. no words are spoken, but his expression says everything it needs you. he moves away from the door, leaving enough room for you to walk inside. when he sits down on the couch, he still hasn’t made eye contact with you. he’s too embarrassed to even acknowledge your presence. 

“what happened here?” you tease, sitting besides him on the couch. his boner is still clearly pressed up against the material. chris shrugs as he mindlessly turns the tv on, purposely ignoring you and your question. maybe if he stays silent you’ll ignore both the tent in his pants and the wet spot that seemed to be growing. “chris.”

“nothing. nothing happened. my phone was just dead.” he whispers, crossing his legs in attempts to cover himself up. your eyes furrow in confusion. had you mentioned his phone? 

“chris…” you pry, tossing the pillow off his lap. he whines in frustration, throwing his head back. he could try to lie his way out of the situation, but he knows there’s no use. 

“well! it’s just… you took way longer than you said you would and i was just getting so frustrated and i haven’t seen you in a week so i started looking at our pictures while i was jerking off and then when you started texting me… it felt good. and i was reading all your text i was! and then i was getting so close and you said you were leaving and i didn’t want you to go so i just… and now… im just. i was so close to cumming and i didn’t okay?!” chris doesn’t even realize how much information he just gave you or what you can do with it. not until he sees the wide smirk on your face. there’s so many different things running through his mind. the most prominent is how incredibly hard he is and how he can’t do anything to fix it right now.

another whine escapes from the depths of his throat when you tug his pants down swiftly, his lack of underwear doing him no favors at all. he wants to tell you to stop– not because he actually wants you to stop but because hes embarrassed by the situation at hand. he squirms at your touch, thrusting his dick against your hand. his tip is embarrassingly red from his unintentional edging earlier, and its covered in so much precum and spit that it seems like he had been at it for hours. when you let him go, his cock slaps against his hoodie covered stomach. no matter how desperately he wants to touch himself and bring himself to the orgasm hes been so desperately craving for what felt like ages, he knew you held the power right now. 

“please… please baby please help me.” chris mumbles, letting out a gasp when you begin to giggle. you were being so cruel to him right now. how was he supposed to act normal and stay quiet when you were just laughing at him and not even helping?

“wheres your phone?” you ask, searching around the couch. chris scrambles to reach into his pocket, handing you the phone with shaky hands. you grab it carefully, holding it up against his length. he was a bit bigger than his phone, but he wasn’t paying much attention to your actions. all he was trying to do was reach the feeling he had been yearning for. chris only starts to pay attention when you grab your own phone and begin to dial a number. he wants to ask who you’re possibly calling in this moment, but he quickly pieces it together when his phone begins to buzz while pressed against his tip. 

there’s a groan that leaves his lips that’s a lot louder than he wants it to be. he doesn’t care right now. right now he just cares about the fact that your call got sent to voicemail and the buzzing halted. “no no nooo!” he whimpers, reaching for your wrist to move it for you. you tsk and shake your head, handing him your phone. “go ahead. call me again. you want it so bad you can work for it.” tears of frustration form in his eyes at your words. fine.

with shaky hands, chris picks up your phone, pressing the call back button. with each ring on your side, the vibrations seem to be getting stronger on his. he knows it’s not possible, but it feels like which each buzz the feeling is getting more and more intense. he lets out a small cry after the fifth or sixth phone call, his cock beginning to twitch between your hand and his phone. 

it’s pathetic, almost, given that it’s only been about two minutes of constant weak vibrations. you almost want to show him sympathy. he must’ve been a lot more desperate than you had expected if he was cumming this soon. “please… fuck mama please let me cum.” he whispers, his hips thrusting up to meet the vibrations all the way through. “y’gonna cum for me? you gonna make a mess all over your phone? imagine what people would think if they knew you used your phone as a sex toy… how would that make you feel? like a desperate little slut?” you reply, clicking his contact on your phone once more. the vibrations start up again as chris moans, nodding his head rapidly. “please! fuck please please.” he whines, biting his lip. his orgasm hits him faster than he expects, because within seconds of his last plea, white spurts of his cum are coating his phone case. it’s a sight you wish you could’ve recorded but both of your phones were occupied. 

it takes chris a second to catch his breath. it takes you a second to comprehend the situation that just went down. you shrug it off— it’s not the weirdest thing you’ve ever done. as you gather your thoughts next to him, you lay your head down on your boyfriends shoulder. “so like… are we still going to the gym or are we gonna go to best buy and get one of those waterproof cases?”

a/n: please nobody talk to me after this one. thanks and apologies in advance.

dividers by @13hoax and @bernardsbendystraws

tags: @mattybsgroupie @whore4mattsturniolo @sosasturns (for the 1 mili party) @darksturnz @surprisecurlyfriesbackup @ribbonlovergirl @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbratt333 @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @ayesha-eroticaa @bluessturniolo @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @marrykisskilled @cykss

[secretl1fe0fm3]

your turn ~ billie eilish x fem!reader

summary: you’re billies best friend and personal photographer, taking photos of her for every occasion imaginable. you loved being behind the camera, constantly admiring her beauty from afar. one night, post concert, you both get to share a hotel room, and billie decides you should be the one in front of the camera for once.

warnings: pure smut, camera usage, photographer!reader, dom!billie, teasing, grinding, dirty talk, fingering, reader is absolutely pathetic (me too)

18+ minors dni!!!

1.7k words

The sound of the rain against the window echoed throughout the hotel room. Billie was laying on the lounge as you snapped photos of her, the only sound being the rain and the shutter of the camera continuously going off. Your breathing was slightly ragged as you focused, her body draped over the small couch perfectly. You bit your lip absentmindedly, the flash lighting up the room. 

Billie looked up at the camera, the look in her eyes almost seductive. She didn't even have to try though, her ocean blue eyes always stood out as the main focus in the majority of your photos of her. The look on her face made you bite your lip even harder, heat pooling in your belly at her gaze. 

"Yeah, keep your eyes up, right there- perfect Billie." You mumbled out, zooming in and snapping a few close ups. She kept her position, a small smirk forming on the corner of her lips at your praise. You always made her feel so much more confident in front of the camera, and comfortable. 

A bright strike of lightning pulls you out of your routine and you bring the camera down, staring out the window behind her. She sits up on the lounge, turning her body to look out the window. "Damn, it's really storming out there." Billie breathed out, a small laugh escaping past her lips. 

You nod, moving towards the couch and sitting down next to her. She scoots closer to you as you go through the photos, agreeing with Billie when she points out the ones she likes. Her eyes flicker from the screen of the camera to the side of your face, watching how your hair falls down, framing your features. 

"You know, you should let me take some pictures of you." Billie suggests casually, as she studies your face. You look up at her and almost roll your eyes.

"Me? Yeah, okay." You scoff out playfully, nudging her, but Billie's face remains straight, her gaze stern. She wasn't joking. 

"Im serious, I wanna take some pictures of you." Billie grabs the camera out of your hands, looking at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. You hesitate, looking down at the satin and lace pajama set adorning your body. 

"But I'm not even dressed prope-" You start, but Billie is quick to interrupt you, the words dying on your tongue. 

"Are you kidding? You look great in that set, it would give the pictures a more intimate feeling anyways. I think they would be cute." She dismisses your hesitation, shaking her head. Her eyes stare into yours, and you swallow hard, contemplating her words. 

"Fuck it, fine." You grunt out, standing up off the couch, fixing your pajama shorts and tank top anxiously. Billie grins ear to ear, staying on the lounge, sitting towards the edge. 

"Go kneel on the middle of the floor over there." She motions towards the empty spot a few feet away from her.

There was a white circular fluffy rug sitting on the marbled floor. You glance at her, not sure where she was going with this. The position or atmosphere of that specific area in the room wouldn't have been your first pick, but you bit your tongue and let her have the artistic direction this time. 

She watches you closely as you walk to the spot on the middle of the rug and drop to your knees. You look up at her, placing your hands in your lap. Her smile grows, and she points the camera towards you, "Tilt your head down a little and look up through your lashes," she breathes out, and you follow her directions. 

Billie snaps picture after picture of you, her breathing slightly heavier than earlier. She's focused as you continue to pose, spreading your knees slightly and placing your hands between your legs. You lean forward a bit, arching your back and putting the majority of your weight on your hands. 

She persistently takes more photos of you, "Now crawl towards me, slowly."  Her eyes flicker from your exposed chest, to your lips, then back to your chest. Your tits practically spilling out of your satin tank from your new position. 

You crawl towards her, your eyes never leaving the lens of the camera. Billie spreads her legs and leans back on the couch, camera still tight in her grasp. She pulls her lip between her teeth as you approach her, heat forming in her stomach now. 

"Good girl," She whispers, her comment barely audible, but you were close enough that you could hear her. Your cheeks heat up at her words, glancing down at her spread legs then back to the camera. You kneel in between her legs, looking up at her with big doe eyes. 

The sound of the camera shutter makes you bite your lip as you squeeze your legs together, trying to create some kind of friction. Billie keeps the camera on you, her gaze hungry and trained on your face. 

She leans forward, her quick breaths fanning across your face. Her hand reaches out and grips onto your chin. Squeezing your cheeks gently between her fingers. Your mouth parts instinctively as your eyes flutter shut, the flare of the flash lighting up behind your closed lids. 

You hear Billie let out a small moan and your eyes blink back open, focusing on her face. She looks like she wants to absolutely devour you. 

Before you can even process anything, Billie sets the camera down on the lounge and pulls you up on her lap. You gasp out at the quick movement, straddling her as she focuses her eyes on your plush lips. 

"You're so fucking sexy. " She purrs out, her hands gripping your hips hard. All you can do is whine out, holding onto her shoulders tightly.

Billie pulls you down closer to her, letting her lips teasingly ghost across your neck. You throw your head back, exposing your neck even more for her. 

"So fucking needy and I've barely touched you, pretty girl." She murmurs against your neck, placing soft kisses up towards your jaw. One of her hands moves off your hip and holds onto your chin, pulling your head back down towards her. You start to let out a moan at her touch but Billie's mouth quickly covers your own, the moan dying on your lips. 

She kisses you passionately, her tongue pushing past your lips, exploring every crevice of your mouth. Both of her hands move back to your hips, slowly rocking you against her. You let out a pathetic whine against her lips at the friction. She smirks into the kiss, pushing you down even harder, relishing in the noises you're making. 

"Fuck." You groan into the kiss, grinding your hips onto hers. She grins wickedly, pulling away from your lips for a moment. Her hand sneaks down between your legs, brushing over your wet heat. She pulls your shorts to the side, her thumb pressing against your clit. 

"Billie," You whine out her name, your eyes squeezed shut tight. "Please." You beg, as her thumb speeds up, rubbing small and fast circles against the bundle of nerves. 

"Does that feel good? Hm? Gonna come for me already? God, you're so sensitive and eager for me, yeah?" Billie's words go straight to your core, and you nod eagerly, breathy moans slipping past your lips. She furrows her brows in concentration as she continues to abuse your clit with her thumb, her other fingers stroking across your wet folds. 

High pitched moans fill the hotel room, unable to control yourself. Suddenly, the hand circling your clit disappears and your eyes fly open, staring at Billie confused. 

Billie's eyes bore into yours, a wide smirk evident on her face. She pulls you off her lap, setting you down next to her. You lean back on the arm rest of the small couch, your head leaning back and staring up at the ceiling, breathing heavily. 

"Look at me." Billie demands, and your head snaps back up, staring at her with blown pupils. The camera is in her hand again, aiming the lens towards your blissed out expression. You hear the shutter go off a few times. 

"You look fucking stunning, should be in front of the camera more often." Billie praises, eyes falling back down to your legs. She reaches her free hand down and pushes your thighs apart, fingers teasingly stroking your soaked cunt. 

A blush creeps up on your cheeks, "Billie.." You moan out, pushing your hips down against her fingers. 

"You sound so pretty too, keep saying my name, pretty girl." She urges you, slipping a finger into your tight heat. Your eyes close in pleasure, biting hard onto your lip.

Billie resumes taking photos of you, her finger continues to open you up, eventually sliding a second finger in. You try and stop the whines from slipping past your lips.

Her fingers speed up, wanting to hear your moans. She curls her fingers up, and you scream out her name. You clench down around her as she continuously hits your sweet spot. Your orgasm quickly approaching. 

Billie's fingers continue to thrust in and out of you, while her thumb rubs aggressively at your clit. Her other hand gripping onto the camera hard, keeping it aimed at you, but too focused on getting you to finish to take any photos. 

You continue to moan out her name, repeating it like a mantra. She grins at you, her eyes watching your face contort in desire as you reach your peak. Billie moans with you as you squeeze around her fingers, your hips twitching. 

Your hands fly out and grip onto the lounge as your orgasm washes over you, your head thrown back onto the arm rest. 

"Shit." You curse out, trying to catch your breath. Billie watches as your chest rises and falls quickly. She slowly pulls her fingers out of you, watching your writhe in pleasure, a small wine escaping your lips at the sudden loss. 

She watches you closely as she brings the camera up again, snapping a final picture. You looked like pure sex, your cheeks flushed and your legs spread wide. Your lips were pink from being bitten raw, and your mouth was slightly agape, your lips parted in a silent moan. 

Billie stares at the picture for a few moments before setting the camera down and turning her attention back to you. She looks pleased with herself, grinning big as her eyes try to memorize the current state you're in. 

"You have to send me that one." 

my masterlist

[vivwritesfics]

Ooo I saw ur edging Oscar and lando one now I propose overstimming them both😏😏😏

18+ smut warning

okay oscar literally wouldn't let you

like you do all the tricks on lando

edging him

not letting him cum

keeping him in your mouth as he calmed down only to start again

it was torturous

even at the end of the night, when you were getting up to shower, he didn't hadn't cum

all he could do was whine pathetically

you tried that shit with oscar

and it wouldn't fly

it was amusing to him, when you did it to lando

but the second you pulled away from him, attempted to leave him high and dry, he pulled you back onto him

pulled you mouth back onto his cock, brought you back to riding him

imagine it

lando laying there, cock leaking as he desperately wanted to cum

you riding oscars cock as he flipped the script on you

bc, you try it with him once, you're no longer allowed to cum

he can fill you over and over

but you're not allowed to cum

you were about to become just as desperate as you were willing to make him feel

again and again and again

all too much and not enough at once

you suddenly realise how you made lando feel

desperate

about to fall over the edge

like everything was too much

it was euphoric

(it ended with you and lando rutting against each other

both desperate to cum

he had forgotten how mean you were earlier

as long as oscar didn't find out

bc then you'd both be in trouble)

this week has been hell. and it just gets worse lmao. i get an original idea is hard but my entire fucking fic has essentially been stolen and i don't know what to do. i was turning this fic into a novel because of how fucking special it is to me and i can't write it rn bc i am traumatised by something that happened earlier this week. i can't fucking push past that to keep going and now im feeling like im losing for fic because some asshole has stolen it

[themareverine]

HI!! its the old man logan asker and im in love wt the way you wrote my previous ask, you are a godsent 🙏 i was wondering if its okay wt you, to write more of him.. i dont know sitting on old man logans lap and dressing up nice and pretty for him??!?!!?? please take it how you will, the way you write him makes me want to stupidly giggle

of course! here we go, i could write this man forever.

A King & His Castle | I Dream of You | oldman!Logan x fem!wife!reader drabble

series summary: Breadwinner. Bring-Home-the-Bacon. King of the Castle. He's heard it all before, but it's never been true of the Wolverine. Until her. Coming home to her is the only thing to live for, the only thing keeping the heart behind his ribs spinning.

warnings: drabble series, day-in-the-life, dad!Logan, mutantwife!reader, angst, domesticity, pregnancy, babies, children, Logan is a boy dad because I said so, reader has curls, slight ⚠︎, breastfeeding, lactation, breastfeeding kink

a/n: i'm dedicating this to @bpmiranda, this is the spiciest it gets, honeychild!

navigation | series masterlist | previous let me know if you want added to my tags! ♡！

There’s very little like a south-of-the-border sunset. 

It’s that something that rises up from the earth to meet the air, a cool that seems, almost, to simmer in the soil until that perfect time of day—the time between the sun sinking low and starlight. It sits in the atmosphere like a dance, spinning and twirling, lifting skirts—hopeful. Innocent. Skips along the bluebonnets and desert roses scattered among the mesa, reverent, almost like the pretty prayers of a virginal bride, awaiting consummation with night. 

Perhaps his favorite fucking time of the day is this hour, after dinner. When the sky begins to transition in a way that kills the heat of the day, buries business hours. Rarely over the week can he toss his phone aside and forget the block of microchips and Big Brother that tethers him here, to his castle—to his bride, his home. Flesh and blood that cries out in the night and, five days a week, searches for him.

Fifty hours a fucking week he lives here, at home, through the screen of a cellular phone — something unthinkable even forty years behind him. 

When he isn’t ignoring passengers in that fucking Chrysler and trying to act his perceived age and be all professional and shit, he’s dreaming about the right here—the small creek that’s a mile to the east. The cactus and bluebonnets that paint the desert mesa like a Monet, the open sky that shows him God every time he rises with the day’s colors.

Away more often than not, by the time the headlights of the limo splash along the perimeter fence, swathing this small slice of his in milky light, he’s borderline forgotten what the four walls and a floor looks like. How it lathes open his heart like a knife in hot butter. 

By the time he takes a few deep breaths of the place, adamantium in his chest kicking out more poison that, somehow, hasn’t put him six feet under yet, he remembers. He longs, curses the days he’s away and silently vows to, in some way, never leave his fortress of solitude, this sanitarium of bliss. It’s bad enough working for the man and punching Uncle Sam’s fucking clock, logging driving hours under a license tethering him to the government like a honing beacon—worse yet, abandoning the so there of her arm draped along his chest as she crashes hard in bed, snoring slightly.

Prying himself away from warmth of fresh sheets, thick blankets that drive back the world. Slipping into the rig with the scent of her, the only true thing in his life the last four decades, clinging to his clothes like the lover he’ll never let her not be. 

Kings were never meant to leave their castles, and he’s away too damn often. 

Thick cigar smoke kicks into his chest as he takes a pull of the thing, sweet tobacco calming the hot edge of his blood as Logan drops his weight, fully, into a patio chair. Kisses of sunlight still linger in the cement apron beneath his feet, and the Wolverine stretches his toes fully against the concrete’s texture, relishing in the bite of it.

His chest all but collapses off a weighted sigh, tension from the cab of that fucking Chrysler bleeding off him like a shed skin, lost in the dwindling light of the day that quickly speeds towards evening—and he can’t not notice the sky. 

She’s beautiful, the canopies of God. Looking down on him with a wink, a teasing that he anticipates with great relief to be finally home.

Tossing his lighter on the patio table beside him, which is rusting and cockeyed from a missing foot, he massages the bridge of his nose. Entirely ignores the rustling movement spilling through the propped-open door leading inside to the makeshift kitchen their thrown-together living conditions allows. He doesn’t have to glance over his shoulder to know it’s her, milling about the kitchen—putting things away, tidying spaces that activities of the day with children doesn’t allow. 

Even from here, her bare feet on the oil-stained, once-refinery floors are unmissable—he’d been listening to her for timeframes he can’t recall, but every time, most of the time, feels like a new discovery. Rattle of pans and the soft hum of her voice carrying a tune floods him with a sense of domestic pride Logan has never felt—like a lion, basking in the sun of his lands, of his pride.

His. 

Excitement jumps through his frame when her movements near the door. Her energy in the atmosphere cracks like a whip, bites at him in a way that ravines down his spine with molten, balmy good. Heat bottoms him out in the base of his gut, like it always does whenever he can smell her — and he can, body be damned, smell her.

Fresh out of the shower, Logan is a breath away from demanding her come, forcing her compliance in him licking the dew from her skin, feasting on the beads of water that fall from the ends of her curls. Practically able to taste eucalyptus and whatever else shit she works into her skin overrides the tobacco smoke hanging out under his nose, renders him a little dumb in his cock. 

Taken aback to the first time Logan committed the scent of her to memory, the first time it became a core part of him, his jaw tenses a little with the effort not to groan.

It had been raining, the scent of earth so strongly that for seconds, it was all he could taste and think — until she’d brushed up against him, wet hair and saturated clothes accentuating every cut and line of her like an Aphrodite. He’d been so gobsmacked with her coming up under the arm he offered around her shoulders, Logan had transfigured. He’d never been the same.

A core part of his biology changed, smelling the sharp mints of her shampoo, the musk of rain and sweat on her skin—it’s all he wanted. He changed, she changed him—and moments like this, remembering, unlock parts of him Charles Xavier, Weapon X, the world had tried to chain like a creature.

Every damn time. 

Takes reasonable amounts of willpower to keep his dick from twitching between his legs, but that’s never new. Skeptics waxed not-so poetic about honeymoon phases, sex—all shot out of a marriage union after the first five years.

Laughable fucking insanity.

Whoever they were, well—they were fucking insane. They’d been together four decades — he was 200 years old. She was pushing 70 but regen lied about it – she hadn’t stopped looking like the day he’d met her, young and stupid and pretty, and parts of him suspect she never will reach the same haggard and graveside appearance he does.

Hopes not, anyway — a twisted, sick part of him liked people watching them, pointing questionable fingers.

What the hell is a pretty thing like that doing with an old fuck like him? 

It unlocked primal, animalistic tendencies he’d only ever feared, but kept him satiated.  Their sex life was fantastic. Damn near pornographic.

You’re a sick fuck, Logan. 

Familiar honey-thick heat drips from his core, down to his cock. Lazy fingers brush at the buckle of his belt, toying with the idea of jacking off to imaginations, to fantasies — to live they’ve lived, love already signed and sealed. Logan doesn’t bother, there’s a full world of the unexplored to discover with her underneath him, chanting out his name—he need only ask.

She never denied. 

“You want a beer?”

Her voice snaps him from his consideration of his feet, propped up on the edge of the patio table. Of course he wants booze, she knows that — but finds the need, the will to ask anyway.

Before he can properly respond, a chilled bottle taps his shoulder, cool glass managing to cut through the layers of suit jacket and shirt as it dangles between her near-boneless, lithe fingers.

“Here, enjoy,” from behind his shoulder she dips low, angles her head to kiss his cheek sweetly. “I’ll be right back, gonna check on little man.” 

It’s the sweetest sound in the world, truly.

And if mention of his son doesn’t ever manage to stop making his chest swell with pride, his bones ache, it will be too soon — it’s never really anything he’d ever envisioned for his life, fatherhood.

Two centuries alive did things to a man. A good woman, religion — the first cry of his son ripping apart the air around their room had devastated him. Ripped away the old shell of a man and stitched together a new man of dust and heart in a way Weapon X could never explain.

The day-to-day of her growing with his seed, glowing with innocent, new life in her womb had been transformative—unlike anything he’d ever experienced. 

Religion didn’t even properly describe it—poetry, song, story. Nothing compared, he was sure. Logan, for one of the maybe-handfuls of time in his existence this side of the grave, had cried the day he’d held his child—his son.

He could weep again, replaying the memory of her nuzzling his baby against her breast, drawing him to the place beside her, “Get over here, Logan—be here with us,” it still visits him in the night, when he dreams. In the quiet of a mute limousine cabin area, when the night is still. 

A perfect cocktail of them together, of mutation and humanity not yet touched by the outside world—their innocence, born again. Breathing. 

His son. His own son. 

Logan kept the picture of her nursing for the first time, post-delivery sweat and gall, as the background of that fucking cell phone, and he wouldn’t deny that he looked at it often. Thought about knocking her up again, just to have another — to have a series of photos that never outgrew that post-delivery quiet, the reverence of that moment.

They hadn’t talked about another kid, not since his birth—Laura and Eli kept the house alive, were handfuls Logan couldn’t even imagine in five years from now. Laura was just beginning to enjoy schoolwork, to approach the new baby.

Their “whoops” pregnancy had complicated enough, another would be chaos on a level he couldn’t fathom. 

But damn, if he didn’t enjoy the thought. Logan was not too big to admit that he was proud, another new trait he found himself admonishing. A photo of the three of them tucked into the ventilation slots of the dash often triggered break-the-ice conversations with his passengers — your wife and kids? They’re beautiful.  

And fuck him if he wasn’t the proud husband and father who didn’t stop talking about them like a babbling idiot, which so wasn’t him in any universe he could understand or imagine.

Mhm, sure is. Laura, she’s almost twelve. And Eli—little man is just learning to hold ‘is head up, little tank of a thing — growin’ fast, faster than I want, the both of ‘em, and Mare—there ain’t words for what kind’a momma she is—

And truly, there never, will never be, enough words to adjective this feeling. 

Basically, he'd turned into a regular Mr. fuckin’ Brady. 

Attention triggered over his shoulder by the creak of the door’s hinges, Logan cracks open the beer, tosses aside the cap to the table like it’s nothing. Pulling long on the bottle, the tick of plastic knocking against itself draws up his brow, only making sense when she steps into his peripheral — a sight that drops his feet off the table with gusto.

Snaps him to attention like a fucking soldier. 

Fiddling with the all-too familiar breastpump gizmo that’s basically attached at her hip with how often of a presence it maintains, all moisture evaporates from the back of his mouth as she stands there, hip cocked, in little more than that tiny stupid satin robe that makes him lose his fucking mind.

Curls of hair frame her face from where they’ve fallen from the lazy clip she’s thrown into her hair, her skin fresh and adew, still, from that moisturizer she has him bring home. Even untied, the robe hides more of her than he wants, barely able to clock the neon fucking thong clinging to every curve of her hips for dear life.

Very quickly Logan recalls that he’s been away from home for five days, every one of them pistoning hot blood that laps for revenge in his cock. He’s hard in a way that aches, in seconds, and she doesn’t even bother to notice, too busy with that damn machine that gets far more VIP access to her tits than he could ever dream.

She’s close enough to reach, and he does, thick fingers tugging at the front of her robe with purpose.

“Havin’ a time with that, sweetheart?”

Cigar hanging low against his bottom lip, his other hand waves her to come hither, her eyes lifting from her handiwork to oblige him, “Give it ‘ere.”

Taking it from her, he sets it aside on the table, beckoning her forward to stand between his knees. The look on her face is defeated, almost disinterested. Tired pulls at the corner of her eyes, though there’s still a trace of sparkle in the depth of her ocean blues. 

His hand brushes open the robe, fingertips skimming over the expanse of her abdomen, bare and pale in the fade of the sun.

Entertaining the idea whether or not he’s going to choke on the smoke of his cigar at the mere sight of her, his fingers brush the material of the thong flossing the meat of her hip, eyes cutting to consider her breasts, now, bared before him at eye–level.

Fuck fuck fuck—

Swollen and full, visceral fingers of pleasurable ache grip his low spine, toying with his blood like it’s a plaything. It is, it’s her toy, her to do with what she pleases — and she knows that, most days. When she needs to.

And Logan knows there isn’t anything innately sexy about what needs to happen, here — she actively hates this, this required thing of her. Has told him so, on multiple fronts, despite his best attempts to change her mind.

Logan, there isn’t anything sexy about this — it hurts, it’s time consuming, I feel vulnerable—

Which, he concluded, was exactly why it was the single most beautiful thing that lapped his mind at all hours of the day, when he was off his game. 

There wasn’t anything like it in the world, a woman’s body. Never had understood until she’d given a son, until he’d been privy to watching the design of a woman’s anatomy actually at work. How it could receive, how it could multiply — how it could sustain a life, produce lifeblood. Nutrients not found naturally anywhere else, intimacy of its own kind.

Such vulnerable beauty stirred a desire to protect, to defend, he hadn’t experienced before — and it was sexy as all hell. Robbed him of sensible thought, of sanity. When he was alone, when he wasn’t, he starved thinking about it—hard and lusting.

Enough to drive a man to his knees in worship. 

A low, hungry moan rolls around the adamantium in his chest, hands moving to gently take the weight of her tits in his palms. Electricity may as well rip through him like a current, because every time is like the first when he touches her —it’s never the same. It’s always new and unique, always leaves him starving and curious.

But her hiss is sharp, features twisting in a hot writhe as her hand finds his shoulder. Strong fingers biting into his muscle tells him that this is familiar pain — that this is anything but what he’s experiencing, anything but what he’d give his right arm for it to be.

It crucifies him, nearly.

A crying shame. “You’re full, darlin’,” and if that doesn’t ignite something in the pit of him, he doesn’t know what, “didn’t do this today, did ya?” 

Lack of reaction says more than words ever will, no. Overseeing Laura’s schoolwork and tending to their son, while also managing what shambles of a home this shelter actually provides keeps her busy — he works, and she maintains life here, this refinery, this shell of a life he’s managed to provide. While she'd never complain, it is far from the white-picket fence American dream he’s supposed to strive for, provide. It’s a slippery slope into hell, trying to keep them all safe. Alive. Well. 

Mutants living the shell of a mutated life—fucking ironic. 

Gently and with care his hands form around the curve of her breast. It takes everything he’s got not to touch, to feel, to play, but the look on her face—the way she nearly cries, gives him pause. Hesitance.

“Easy,” she brushes at his hand, thumb gently grazing over one of her sensitive nipples, “please,” her murmur has grit, but isn’t viscous—like a dog whimpering from receiving care, she squirms a little beneath his touch, “that hurts.” 

“I can see that, sugar,” leaning forward, he pulls the cigar from the corner of his mouth and outs it on the arm of the steel patio furniture, slips the remainder in the front pocket of his jacket.

Logan gently brushes his nose against her breastbone, able to scent the sweetness beneath her skin. He tries to forget what it tastes like, hands instead slipping around her middle to gently knead the burning muscle of her shoulders, knots that are hot to touch, “You need somethin’ from me?”

It means everything and nothing, stirs his dick like a fucking ocean.

Her voice is resigned, small. “Not that, not right now," fingers card through his hair, a small smile teasing the corner of her pretty mouth, “can I just talk about some things, for the weekend? V’missed you.” Her hands move to gently skip her nails through his beard, Logan’s fingers tracing the line of her thong, temptingly.

“Sit back, honey. You’re crowding my seat, Wolverine.” Wolverine. Always her Wolverine, she’s always his. Two Wolverines. 

Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine the idea would be so good. 

Logan doesn’t need to be told again.

Shifting his hips forward, making room on the spread of his thighs, she swings a leg over him and gently seats herself on the plush of his thighs. Reaching past him for the pump, Logan relishes in her weight, how it straddles the cradle of his hips something beautiful, how it manages to constrict his chest to barely breathing levels of oxygen deprivation.

Keening, head spinning, she begins to hand express, the soft whir whir whir of the pump beneath her hand taking up more space in his ears than should be considered righteous. 

Staying busy on her body is never a problem—his hands grab at the meat of her opened thighs, fabric of the thong at the juncture of her legs pulled so tight he’s liable to snap in half.

Dizzy on the cocktail of scent—of her core, her skin, the saccahrine sweet of milk, eucalyptus in her hair—he can’t even manage a drink of his now-lukewarm beer. Sweat seeps through the layers of his clothes, riling up his skin — he’s hot to the point of overdrive. Redline and it’s stupid.

Fairly certain that he’ll bite the inside of his cheek until it’s shredded to nothing, Logan is all but a little dizzy when she takes his chin between her fingers. 

God, please — don’t ever let it not be like this. “Logan? You listenin’ to me?”

Her brow peaks, his hand lifting of its own will to her opposite breast. Mostly ignoring his touch, she bites the corner of her bottom lip—he feels her bristle under the attention. Pull of muscle in her legs is unmistakable, God Himself could see it.

“Hey, focus, will you? I’m asking you something, here.”

He hasn’t, not truthfully. She said something about the lady's group at the little church down the way inviting her somewhere, probably for the weekend. He’s too selfish to let her go but could deny her nothing — something about Laura swims through the back of his head, but he isn’t sure.

How she expects him to think straight, dressed so pretty in hardly anything, he’ll never understand. 

His lifted brow and cocksure smile gives her pause, she pushes at his shoulder and rolls her eyes. “Good God, Logan, you’re impossible,” and she goes to swing off his thighs, but his hands at her hips hold her fast, drags her down to his lap. A little harder, until her full weight drops.

He groans, but tries not to growl —it’s a sad attempt, really.

“Baby, please, this is important t’me —” 

Oh, and he knows. “Mhm, I know that,” his chuckle is breathless, airy—turns into a twisting, dark growl when he pulls at the line of her thong, snaps it against her little rolls that he’s been dreaming about for days, “mmm—nrgh—but darlin’ —”

“I’ll suck you off later, Logan �� but I’m talking to you about Eli. You know, our son? Would you concentrate just a little, please?”

Aw, hell—Nothing about her tone is serious, but mention of her tight mouth on him severs his last bit of composure.

God only designed a man for so much, he was within Biblical grounds for fucking her within an inch of her precious, regenerative life.

His head snaps up at attention from the back of the chair, and with a dark glint of a smile, he drives her hips down hard on his thigh, her gasp a little too strong to be that surprised.

And he holds her there, knuckles white with the effort to drive her weight fully against the line of his muscle.

“Talk like that is li’ble to get you fucked out of your mind, darlin’,” sitting forward, he presses a hot kiss to the curve of her unoccupied tit, fighting her hand away from the pump to manage it himself, harsher than necessary, “I am this close to losin’ my fuckin’ composure, baby, so be nice.”

Mean, he rips her robe down off her shoulder to suck a hard, dark mark onto the top of her breast, and she all but collapses against his chest, the taste of her pearling sweat almost savory against his tongue. 

“You’re so mean, Lo,” breathless, her lips skip over the throbbing pulse in his neck. “Just want you to distract me,” sing-song, feigning innocent sobriety, his pretty wife’s tongue lathes at the pool of his collarbone, tongue dragging at the sheen of sweat drawing up on his skin at her touch, low against his Adonis belt.

“It hurts, you know,” now it’s quiet, an admission. It should whip him into shape, but instead, it takes him apart.

“Just wanna talk.” 

Logan’s mocking chortle is dismissive, if not a little cold. 

 “Fuck me,” breathless, his hand finds her hair and pulls her up, into a hard kiss that’s wet, hungry. Her breathy moan is shallow, and Logan forgets all about the busyness of his hand at her tit.

“You wanna talk. Fuck, darlin’— it’s been five days.” 

“You’re such a kid,” matching his meanness is one of his favorite ploys, it’s enough to driving him over the edge of sanity. “Can’t live five days without me — whatever did you do before me, Logan?” 

Taking her face in his hands, he pulls back, tucking a curl behind her ear.

“Dreamed of you,” the corner of his mouth ticks up in a quicksilver little smirk, “I still dream’a you, darlin’, whenever I ain’t here.” Kissing her slowly, unhurried, her taste is like honey. Her body like home, an extension of him he can’t even begin daydreaming of without wanting to weep. 

Giggling, awwwws him like a child. “I suppose I should give you somethin’ to dream about, huh, Lo?” 

And his dreams have never been so alive. 

@sidkneeeee

@thevoicefromanotherworld

@misscrissfemmefatale

@eternallyfrustratedwriter

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@laaadygisbooornex3

@itsafullmoon

@kmc1989

@steviebbboi

@matronmothercrone

[kxtsukixoxo]

pro!hero dynamight is known for his explosive nature, fans second guessing if they should really approach the hothead. is it really surprising when you aren’t scared of him?

𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 ᥫ᭡ 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗩 ᥫ᭡ 𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗧

Katsuki rolled in bed that night, why was he so attached to you? he had so many questions flooding his head. why did he feel the need to spend every second of his day with you.

he hated how much he loved looking at you stare into your notebook, muttering about how his suit works.

he hated the fact he enjoyed your company 

he hated how happy he felt whenever his phone rang, he hated how much he hoped it was you. he hated the fact that no matter how much he said he hated how close you were to him, he actually loved it. 

what was so special about you? 

why did he let his guard down and let you in? 

you of all people. 

maybe it’s because you weren’t scared of him, you didn’t fear his quirk. yeah, you were a geek about his hero work, but you didn’t make him feel like a ticking time bomb, unable to interact with everyone else due to his constant outbursts. he felt like himself with you.

after minutes of tossing and turning, he picked up his phone. clicking at the keyboard hesitantly, he didn’t want to scare you off, it didn’t seem possible but he had to be cautious. overthinking every message he typed out and deleted after careful consideration.

[kats 💣] coffee tomorrow?

After a thousands of messages, back and forth with Katsuki. he finally had time to get coffee with you and catch up, making sure it was done in a secluded place. not because he was ashamed but rather he’d like to keep you safe and away from the media. it was rather hard trying to match his schedule with yours, he was endlessly busy, with barely any time to hang out. you appreciated the fact he’d take time out of his day to reply to you, you had little time for your personal needs as well, but more than he did. working in a nursing home meant whenever your patient was asleep; which was most of the time, meant you could finally take a break. 

“sooooo…” 

“what?” Katsuki chuckled as you took a sip of your bubble tea while you two strolled around the familiar park. 

“what do you mean what?! tell me about your recent fights!! i wanna know everything!” 

he grinned as he watched you whip out your notebook and pen, ears ready for whatever he threw at you. 

“nerd.” he muttered as you finished rambling about your notes. the unexpected ring from your phone bringing you back to reality, Katsuki watched your face drop as you read the text. 

“what’s wrong?” he grew concerned, it had to be something serious if you dropped your playful demeanour. 

“i….um…” 

“spit it out” 

you looked down at the ground, is this how he finds out? you’d wished you could tell him under better circumstance. 

“the babysitter i hired…she needs to leave” 

“babysitter…?” 

Katsuki trailed off, piecing two and two together. 

you cleared your throat, he looked at you questionably, why did you hide this from him? were you scared he’d stop talking to you? he didn’t understand. 

“i’ll come with you.” 

“i appreciate the thought, but it’s okay kats, im fine!” you looked at him cheerfully. he’d love to meet the kid, definitely on better circumstances. but you needed help right now, he wanted to respect your boundaries but he felt an itch to help you. he held himself down, worried he might spook you if he was too straightforward

“thank you for the coffee!” you kissed him on his cheek, running towards your car. your inner self kicking gleefully, while he stood there stunned, with a subtle grin on his face, he could get used to this.

he wanted you, kid or no kid.

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 -

@rinkomei  @qyuin @kalulakunundrum

[marunene]

OK OKAY, pre borderland is kinda easy to headcanon him (btw sorry my poor english, im brazilian 😭)

Sfw I would sayyy:

Arisu will definitely accept to play any game with you, like Minecraft and Stardew Valley, even if it is not his type of game. The houses he makes in Minecraft are either made of dirt or in mountains, maybe even in a random hole he found while exploring. He prefers mining and fighting monsters, but he'd also pick flowers and adopt a puppy for you two, letting you choose it's name 😭. In SV, Arisu would barely pay attention to the farm animals and you would be the one who would have to pat and give them food. He would try very hard to get the items to make the ring and ask you to marry him (in game).

Idk why but he gives me a vibe that he prefers dogs over than cats (even though he loves cats too).

When you go out together, he's always holding your hand... At least until he gets distracted by something and doesn't even notice that you let go of his hand.

He will talk for hours and hours about geometry and cars and you will be forced to sit and listen (hes just like me fr) AND HE WILL ALSO SET UP A SUPER HARD RUBIK'S CUBE IN FRONT OF YOU IN LIKE, 3 MINUTES AND GRIND AT YOU TO SEE YOUR REACTION (Tell him how cool he is for this and he'll be giggling and kicking his feet)

He's such a silly guy I want him

Now for nsfw??

I very much agree about him being a titty guy and prefers receiving head (HELP) He sure likes it when you are giving him a bj when hes playing, I think this is the most OBVIOUS headcanon someone can give to a gamer character, but I just love it, especially if he's not paying attention to you, you just go there and kneel in front of him while he's on call playing something with his friends, he would try SO hard to keep quiet 😭😭

But he's a FUCKING VIRGIN before he meets you and probably jerks out a lot if he's not playing, doesn't matter if he's already dating you or not. Btw if you have big boobs he'll go CRAZY, give him some paizuri/titty fuck and he's yours.

I think he would be into LIGHT humiliation (But prefers praises 100%), softfemdom and pegging but is TOO embarassed to say it. I also thinks he likes some cumplay for some reason, finishing ON you, ESPECIALLY face, chest AND butt. And also he'll call you momma, no discussion. The voices in my mind told me.

headcanons | ryohei arisu

author’s note: i started aib and ohmygod this man, smut hc’s are definitely ooc but i just need him so bad so i’m feeding my own delusions.

warnings: nothing much, just my first time writing smut hc’s😭

synopsis: pre-borderlands hc’s! also this is LONGGG, i have too many thoughts.

smut hc’s are definitely ooc. realistically he’s gonna be a nervous wreck but let me pretend.

not proof read

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ pre-borderlands

♡ he’s a loser, you know it, he knows it, his friends know it, and his father definitely does. but it makes him all the more endearing.

♡ he’s so, so nervous at first, but once you both grow more comfortable in your relationship he’s giving into your every wish, genuinely at your beck and call. you’re his whole world and he just wants to make you happy <3

♡ he’s a little gamer! mainly pc (unfortunately, i’m a ps5 girly) but he knows his stuff. definitely uses emulators to play games like resident evil and the last of us.

♡ he prefers online shooters and stuff, but he doesn’t mind story based games if they’re more action based, like re4.

♡ i think he’d prefer a girlfriend who doesn’t mind video games (or loves them like him) so you can play together and talk about games :(

♡ would definitely emulate it takes two on both his pc and yours so you could play together, it’s such a cutesy little couple game! you guys would have a blast playing together! :(

♡ if you had a console best believe he’s using it for at least an hour every time he’s over, won’t admit it’s better than his PC but you both know it’s what he’s thinking.

♡ loves it when you sit in his lap while he plays :( and you love it too.

♡ arms wrapped around your waist as he rests his controller on your thighs, chin on your shoulder as he plays, but he always gets distracted, giving you the attention you want so easily, kissing your neck gently, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs and hips as he whispers in your ear.

♡ i can’t imagine he uses pet names often, if he does they’re classics like ‘baby’ and ‘babe’.

♡ “Baby, you wanna hop on call for a bit?” he texts you at least once a day every night you aren’t together, he ends up screen sharing a movie or show you can watch together.

♡ is also a boyfriend that makes you watch him play i’m so sorry but he just is. you see him rage far too often over COD.

♡ loves it when you call him ‘honey’, just does it for him.

♡ he’s a nerd so that definitely extends to different parts of his life other than video games, when you go shopping you always end up browsing new posters, figurines, and mangas.

♡ AOT is my favourite anime/manga so i’m gonna hc that it’s his too! ;)

♡ his favourite character is eren. without a doubt, just thinks he’s so cool, and absolutely loses his mind when he sees him turn into the attack titan for the first time, “Babe! Fucking look, that’s so cool!-“

♡ thinks you’re so pretty. while girls loved karube, the same couldn’t be said for him. in the show he’s in his 20s so i won’t say he’s a virgin, but definitely not super experienced.

♡ just can’t believe he has a girlfriend as pretty as you, no matter what you look like, goth, emo, a girl who loves to dress up and wear makeup, or if you prefer dressing down he thinks you’re so stunning.

♡ “you’re the prettiest girl ever.” (literal heart eyes)

♡ “your makeup looks really nice, baby :)”

♡ *stares at you in the mirror while you brush your hair.*

♡ “baby can you play a game with me, i’m bored :(.”

♡ dates are super lowkey! but you both love it that way.

♡ walks in parks, cinema dates, shopping dates, lazy days on the couch or in his bed watching movies are the most common ones.

♡ he does splurge on an actual restaurant for anniversary’s and valentines and your birthday with whatever little money he has.

♡ dresses up on those days too! He’ll wear a plain black shirt or white button up (whatever is more appropriate) instead of a graphic tee and some nice jeans or black slacks (he steals them from his brother.)

♡ for gifts he also keeps in lowkey, and so do you! you both can’t afford much so you just appreciate what the other gets you.

♡ he gets you little figures and posters he thinks you’ll like, or plushies! if you like makeup he’ll splurge a tad and get you a nice lipgloss you said you’ve been wanting.

♡ is definitely a boyfriend who gets gifts catered to your interests and things you like rather than buying you stuff he thinks all girls like.

♡ just over all very thoughtful, sweet, and very very handsome even though he refuses to believe it.

♡ pre-borderlands smut hc’s

♡ isn’t a virgin, but not experienced. one or two bodies before you i’d guess.

♡ let’s talk abt his dick 🤭

♡ he’s above average, but not insanely big. 6 inches, decently girthy but not so much so that it would hurt. it’s so pretty. a perfect size, two toned, a few veins and perfectly straight.

♡ i see far too many people hc him as a sub, but i honestly don’t see that, he’s neither and doesn’t have much of an interest in power dynamics

♡ you’re his equal, his baby, why would he wanna control you in anyway? :(

♡ such a titty guy. he is’t picky about size, but loves the way yours sit so pretty.

♡ soft pecks slowly grow into heated and lustfully heavy touching above your clothes, his big hands and lithe fingers shyly manoeuvring under your top. Inching their way up your soft flesh, they always find your breasts, caressing them gingerly as he softly loves on you.

♡ positions are nothing crazy, he loves classic missionary sometimes, just staring into your eyes, watching your face contort as you whine and moan. god you just look so good.

♡ but he also loves prone bone, getting you on your stomach, sliding himself in, slowly, almost torturously so. he fills you to the hilt, groaning into your ear softly as your bodies press together, sharing their warmth. he props himself up on his elbows, thrusting into you gently and slowly. he wants to savour every moment. without a doubt, he always brushes your hair away from your face, putting a large hand under you chin to crane your neck around to him, kissing you slowly as he fucks you into the mattress.

♡ bro LOVESSS head. like so bad. he loves giving, of course, he’s never been much of a ladykiller, so knowing he’s able to please you drives him mad.

♡ but he’s always down for you to suck his dick. he prefers laying with his back propped against the headboard, letting you work away. with a hand gripping your hair, or caressing the back of your head, and his other hand behind his own head, his mouth agape and eyes fluttering closed.

♡ on certain days, he thrusts up into your mouth, but poor boy always ends up feeling a bit bad :(

♡ ohgod and his fingers.

♡ long, lithe, slender. his hands are dexterous, soft and not overly calloused. anytime he uses them on you, he has you laying beside him whilst he leans over you, pumping them in and out, his thumb giving all it’s attention to your clit.

♡ the dirty talk is light, just filled with praise and light teasing

♡ he’s just too soft with you, he could never degrade you in the slightest.

♡ “attagirl, baby.”

♡”doing so good f’me.”

♡”you look so pretty, baby, my pretty girl.”

♡”makin’ me feel so good.”

♡ and just strings of curses as he praises and loves on you

♡ he’s just too good to you :(

[fuck-customers]

hate when customers act like you're personally attacking them when u tell them u cant do something. ma'am i actually physically cannot return the item without a receipt the till will not let me. you can think whatever you like about that i dont care, doesn't change that i physically cannot do this for you. yes i can get my manager but they'll tell you the exact same thing. congrats the lenient one won't even let you exchange it because you're being an asshole (my favorite manager she's great) and now you have to leave with your stupid pair of fucking jeans that were like £8.

also asked a woman if she was buying the bag she put on the counter or if it was hers (i have a habit of just grabbing and trying to scan anything thats on the counter) and she got so defensive because it was apparently designer. i think i'll be chasing that high for the rest of my life

also had a guy try to argue that the computer had calculated the price wrong on his receipt and he argued so hard i had to get someone else to come check to make sure i wasn't loosing my fucking mind (important note im dyscalculic) the price was, you'll never guess, correct.

sorry it's like 1am & i needed to get that out of my system

Posted by admin Rodney

[biblical-chronicles]

Clingy

___________________________________

where the others can see that Noel missed you (a lot) while on tour.

___________________________________

When you showed up at one of the tour stops unannounced, you didn’t expect a calm, collected reaction. But you didn’t expect this either.

You hadn’t even stepped into the dressing room fully before Noel had launched himself at you.

“Jesus—”

Before you could even brace yourself, you were flattened against the wall by a very enthusiastic Noel, arms wrapped around your waist like he was afraid you'd disappear again.

“Oh, fuckin’ hell,” Liam groaned from behind. “Here we go…”

“Mate, you’ve got a proper problem,” Bonehead chuckled.

You smiled, holding on to Noel for balance as he pressed his face into your neck, sighing dramatically. “Missed you.” he muttered, squeezing you even tighter.

You barely had time to breathe before Liam piped up again. “Mate, seriously? You might as well start humping her leg in front of us at this point.”

Noel didn’t budge. Instead, he let out a huff of laughter. “Aye, well, she’s mine, so deal with it.”

You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Noel Gallagher, the man who would usually grumble at the slightest inconvenience, was now clinging to you like a bloody child.

“Come on, Noel,” you said, trying to peel him off. “I just walked in, let me breathe for a second.”

He let go—barely. His hand still firmly pressed to your back, and as you moved to sit down, he was quick to follow, dragging you onto his lap.

“Christ, mate, you’re arranging a bloody nest for her, or what?” he teased, leaning back with an exaggerated look of mock disbelief. “I mean, just look at ‘im. Never thought I’d see the day you'd turn into a clingy... well, whatever this is.”

“Yeah,” Bonehead continued, “I half expect you to start pullin’ out a duvet and a pillow at this point. Might as well throw a hot water bottle in there, too, and make her feel right at home. Wrap her up in fairy lights.”

You chuckled, but it was getting harder to keep a straight face as Noel kept you trapped in his lap, his hands not letting go of you for even a second.

“I swear, this isn’t normal for him,” you said, half laughing, half trying to understand what was happening. “He’s usually not this clingy, but I can see now… he missed me.”

Noel’s eyes softened, and he leaned his head into your shoulder, clearly not bothered by the teasing. “You’ve got no idea, love.” he mumbled, kissing the side of your neck.

“I think I might’ve missed you a bit too.” you said, laughing, but it didn’t seem to matter because Noel was still holding onto you like his life depended on it, nuzzling your neck.

"Alright, alright," you sighed, giving up. "I actually brought you lot some little gifts."

You tried to stand up, but Noel tightened his grip on you immediately, pulling you back onto his lap.

“No, no, no,” he said, shaking his head in mock protest. “You’re not goin’ anywhere.”

“But I’ve got your gifts,” you said, chuckling at his stubbornness. “I’m not gonna leave you forever, Noel. Just let me go for a second.”

“Yeah, right,” Noel muttered, leaning his face into your hair again. “You’re not leavin’ me.”

The lads snickered, unable to hold it in any longer.

“Mate, you’re not lettin’ her go ‘cause you’ve got a bloody hard on, haven’t you?” Liam said with a smirk, eyes flicking between the two of you.

Bonehead burst out laughing, nudging Liam. “Oh, you can see it, can’t ya? He’s practically glued to her. I bet if she stands up, he’ll have to grab the nearest cushion to hide that situation.”

“Jesus, Noel,” Liam continued, shaking his head with a grin. “At least put a blanket over it, yeah? Make it a little less obvious.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at their relentless teasing.

Noel just groaned into your neck, completely unbothered. “Piss off, all of you.” he muttered, but there was a soft smile in his voice as he tightened his grip on you.

You shook your head, trying your best to keep your composure while laughing at how ridiculous this all was. “Alright, I think you might’ve actually missed me.” you teased.

“I have.” he admitted, without a hint of hesitation, his voice soft. Then, before you could even respond, he pulled you closer and kissed you, long and slow. You could feel the relief in his kiss, like he was making up for all the time he’d been away. When he pulled back, his eyes were a little softer than usual.

“You really have no idea, do you?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Just then, Liam couldn’t help himself "I have an idea—get a fucking room.”

___________________________________

cute short story for today as I have a blank mind so sorry if it's not the usual quality you lot xx

and no worries Liam nation I will be writin' for you as well soon, as you were x

[muhlsworld]

WHATS WRONG WITH ME?

synopsis: you rescue nika from a bad date.

WARNINGS: suggestive (no actual smut), cussing, talks about sex, not proofread

it was a relaxing evening in seattle. you were getting ready to watch one of your favorite movies when your best friend nika sends you a text saying ‘911’. instead of answering the text you called her. “hey is everything okay?” you asked the second she picked up the phone. “yeah i’m on my way, don’t worry i’ll be there soon.” nika said quickly and then hanging up. you were so confused until you got a second text from her.

‘bad date. had to leave. omw to yours’

then it all made sense. you simply liked her message waiting for her to show up. a few minutes later you heard the door open. knowing it was nika since she had your spare key. “in the living room.” you shouted so she could go towards you. she walked in the living room looking as beautiful as ever. wearing that black leather set that you helped pick out.

“omg im so sorry for barging in but i just had the worst date ever.” nika said with her head in her hands. “wanna tell me about it?” you asked trying to be as supportive as you could. “the date itself wasn’t that bad you know? he was cute and respectful. but after the dinner we went back to his place.” she said stopping slightly and you nodded understanding what she was referring to.

waiting for her to continue you placed a comforting hand on her thigh. “it was going good too, we were making out and it wasn’t the worst but as i went to sit on his lap i felt nothing. like actually nothing” she said almost embarrassed. “so he wasn’t hard yet right?” you asked slightly uncomfortable with the conversation. “see that’s what i thought too so we kept going but he just wouldn’t get hard. like we literally couldn’t even do anything.” she stated frustrated.

you look at her in shock with what she was telling you. you honestly didn’t know what to tell her to make her feel better. so you opted for slightly rubbing her thigh to make her feel comforted. then she spoke up again “is there something wrong with me?” nika asked. “what the hell? no what are you talking about?” you asked confused at the question. “am i not hot enough?” she asked sheepishly.

you looked at her like she was insane. she was the most beautiful woman you’ve set your eyes on. she was literally a goddess in your eyes. “what nika? why would you say that?” you asked. “i don’t know it’s just…” she paused for a little “do you think i’m hot?” nika asked. before your brain could stop you from speaking you blurted out “of course i do”. your eyes went wide are your confession.

you slapped your hand on your forehead from the embarrassment. but what you didn’t see was nikas smirk. “you think i’m hot?” she asked almost seductively. you nodded hesitantly. the tension in the room growing thicker and thicker. “so you wouldn’t mind helping me out right?” she asked. you shook your head and then said “what do you need help with?”

“let me kiss you.” nike said bluntly. you mouth dropped slightly at the statement. “help me prove to myself that i can make someone horny. help me make sure there’s nothing wrong with me.” she practically begged. your mouth went dry at those words. without waiting any longer you answered.

“okay.”

and with that confirmation nika turned to face towards you on the couch and leaned in slightly so your lips touched. it was a quick peck at first. and then once she saw you were okay with it she pulled you onto her lap. each one of your legs on either side of hers. nikas hands were planted on your waist as your hands went around her neck.

once you were settled in her lap, she captured your lips in yet another kiss. but this time it was hungrier. one of her wants move slowly up your back until she reached your head. so she grabbed a fistful of your hair as she tugged a little. you opened your mouth slightly at the sensation and nika took the initiative to slide her tongue in your mouth.

you moaned as she inserted her tongue into your mouth. nika took that as a sign that she was doing good. so with that she placed her hand back down on your waist firmly. your heart was practically beating out of your chest. you felt like everything was on fire. but you knew nika was only doing this to prove something to herself. so you let her.

after making out for a few minutes she started to place kisses down your jawline and up to your earlobe. she tugged at your earlobe with her teeth and you let out a sigh of satisfaction. she started to kiss down you neck sucking slightly at certain spots. and that’s when your body betrayed you.

you started to slowly grind down on nikas legs begging for some friction. nika was happy with what she was doing to you and she was showing it by grabbing you waist harsher and guiding your hips down into her.

this went on for a few minutes until you couldn’t take it anymore. you wanted more. you needed more. and nika did too. nika started to slide her hand down to your thighs slightly massaging your thigh, inching herself closer to where you wanted her most. but before she did she looked up at you. “are you sure?” she asked. “there’s no going back after this.” she stated. you nodded slowly getting of her lap and leading her your bedroom.

the night consisted of pure pleasure between the two of you. and you couldn’t have been more happy that nikas date ended the way it did.

A/N: please give me requests 🙏

[naehoonx]

" First Kiss " - caleb [ oneshot ]

→ SUMMARY: since you met caleb again in skyhaven many things had changed. why was your heart beating so fast whenever you were near him? why were your hands getting sweaty whenever he got closer? and why did it bother you so much that he never wanted to make the first move?

→ GENRE: fluff; awkward; innocent; shoujo like love.

→ RATING: 15+

→ NOTE: i started playing LADS last year in december while i was suffering a bad writing block. first i fell deeply in love with zayne but the moment caleb was released .. i resonated with him more? i love the childhood friends to lovers trope + the angst the both of them embodied. the losing and finding each other while still keeping secrets from another. i hope you enjoy it!

♡.°₊ˎ SONG FOR THIS ONESHOT

it was another normal day in skyhaven for you. caleb and you were fighting again, over the most dumb thing, like always. maybe that was a perk of being childhood friends for so long but it was really draining at the same time. you didnt even knew what triggered it this time. the only words which left your mouth were " maybe you shouldnt come with me to this mission." yeah, thinking back to those words, you needed to admit that it was dumb to speak them out loud. considering how caleb could be whenever it concerned your safety. another huff left his lips as he leaned against the kitchen counter, not understanding why you're not wanting him by your side. without him every mission posed as a threat to your safety in caleb's eyes and somehow it irritated you. why was he so overprotective of you and why did it bother you so much that he never spoke it out loud. is it so hard to tell you that he's worried about you?

"you act like a damn child caleb. i can take care of my own and you know that!" your voice was already strained from all the arguing as you looked over at him.

caleb wasnt facing you, instead he was staring at the kitchen counter as he clutched his hand against the smooth surface. you noticed early on that this was some kind of habit of him.

"i know that you can take care of yourself but thats not the issue here" "then what is the issue here? Caleb you never tell me whats wrong, im always .. left with some weird puzzle pieces whenever we fight"

another frustrated huff left his lips as you could see how his fingernails dig into the flesh of his palm. he would hurt himself like this again but at the same time you remembered that he really cant. thanks to that mechanical arm of his, he cant feel anything beside immense pain. so digging his nails inside his palm wont do much damage to his body.

"caleb please" another try to press him to be honest with you and still, he kept looking away from you. carefully you took a step towards him before he finally turned his head into your direction. that was the first time you could see the colour red creeping up his cheeks. was he that angry with you?

"what do you want to hear from me Y/N? Tell me? I already told you that i wont let you go alone there!" "but why not! you never give me a reason!"

frustrated you lifted your arms over your head before you turned around on your heel. before you could take one step forward, into the living room, someones arm wrapped around your waist; pushing you back. it didnt took you long until you realized that caleb stood right behind you, his broad chest pressing against your back. for a moment your breath hitched at the same time your heart nearly bursts inside your chest.

"what do you want to hear Y/N ... tell me" caleb's voice was low as he leaned down to whisper against your ear. his grip tightening more around your waist. making it impossible to escape. your body suddenly starts to mold perfectly against his own. its like the two of you were made for each other. "tell me" goosebumps appeared on your arms as calebs lips nearly brushed against your ear. your whole body freezed on the spot as his hand over from your waist to your stomach. what was happening right now?

"i- ... i just want that you are being honest with me.. you always tell me i shouldnt fight alone and that i should rely on you more but .. why? You know im strong .. " another strong tuck forced your back against his chest. you didnt knew that being this close would be even possible. carefully you put your hand on calebs arm, the arm which held you firm ... the same arm which cant feel any warmth anymore.

now you heard calebs breath hitch. what were you two doing here? once there was a time when the two of you got along well and rarely fought with each other. now the both of you sometimes didnt even knew how to behave around each other. one month ago you suddenly became hyper aware of caleb as a man. suddenly you didnt saw him as some kind of childhood friend anymore .. there was something more whenever you looked at him or stole glanzes while he was working. deep down you had hoped that caleb feels the same way but he still kept treating you like the little girl he once took care of.

as you were deep inside your thoughts, caleb spun you around so you were looking up at him now. his ears were red too now, it looked really adorable. there it was again, that look in his eyes you couldnt put a name on it. Caleb looked helpless as he just kept staring at you, his lips parting just slightly as he wanted to say something. you knew better, he was holding back. probably all the things he wanted to tell you or something else. slowly your hand reached out to touch his cheek. his skin felt hot underneath your fingertips as you slid down to his chin.

"caleb please .. we cant keep fighting like this .. tell me already why you're so scared to let me go alone" pleading was seen in your eyes and maybe thats the reason why he finally broke his silence.

for a short moment caleb closed his eyes as your fingertips still lingered on his chin.

"its hard to put all the things i feel into words .. I- i want you to rely on me more because if you doesnt .. i feel like you will let go of me and walk away ... at the same time i dont want to lock you up here ... knowing damn well you are your own person. dont look at me like that Y/N ... i know you are strong and probably dont need me for anything but .. whenever i think about it .. you not needing me it feels like .. a knife pierces through my heart and i- "

before he could continue with his rambling you put a finger against his lips. all those words were enough for you. he literally opened his heart for you even if it was just a tiny little bit. caleb needed you, he was scared of losing you .. so it was fine to hope right?

biting down on your lip you put both hands against his cheeks. the confused look in his eyes was something you learned to adore. caleb always looked so cute whenever he didnt knew what you were up to now. slowly you got on your tip toes just to be a bit closer to him. your noses nearly touched as caleb took another shaky breath but he didnt dared to speak. if he was too scared to take the next step in your relationship you would do it. even if your heart is nearly bursting at the moment.

another hitched breath as your lips finally got in contact with his own, from that moment on everything was just a blurr. calebs arms wrapped tightly around your body as he captured your lips in a desperate manner. it felt like he was starving all those years and finally got to eat something again. from time to time he broke the kiss for a short moment, just to look at you with those eyes. eyes which were full of yearning, yes yearning. all those years he had looked at you like this and you never noticed it before. the world around you two didnt mattered anymore as caleb, once more, pressed his lips against yours. his own breathing was shaky as his body forced you near the sofa. even if you were stumbling a bit his strong arms were ready to catch you.

the moment the back of your knees touched the sofa, your butt fell onto the soft fabric. this time you got a better look at calebs face as he was hovering over you. one of his arms was placed beside your head against the sofa, so he wouldnt crash on top of you.

"who thought .. you could be this bold y/n .. "

a smirk formed on your face as you wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him closer again "well ... you took too long caleb. a hunter wont wait forever for its prey."

the last thing you saw was a smiling caleb before he dived back in to capture your lips. this time in a much softer and tender kiss.

[cherryxbooo]

Helloooo hehe 🍒

Could you write a pedri fic where perdito and reader are both in college but he’s the popular kind and reader is quiet and almost invisible.

How at first she doesn’t wanna get involved but slowly warms up to him and start dating and her getting welcomed by his family.

Make it angst to fluff like real angst tho.

Whether you write this or not im grateful 💚

You make sense to me

Summary: Being introverted and choosing the background over the spotlight is already hard enough, let alone when the popular guy suddenly takes an interest in you.

Note: Thank you so much for your request! I decided to switch it up a bit and go from fluff to angst and obviously ending in fluff. Hope you like it! 🫶

Reader x Pedri

Genre: fluff/angst

University is a strange place.

It’s a world where people reinvent themselves, the loud get louder, and the quiet, like me, learn to live in the spaces between.

That’s how I’ve survived my first year at university, blending into the background.

I’m not a recluse, but I keep to myself.

I study, I go to class, I read in the corner of the library, and I go home.

No unnecessary interactions. No unnecessary attention.

That is, until he noticed me.

Pedri.

Everyone in our uni knows who he is. He’s that guy, the one with effortless charm, always surrounded by people.

Popular, not just because he’s good at football, but because he’s him. He moves through life with a kind of ease I can’t even imagine.

And yet, for some reason, he keeps looking at me.

I don’t get it. I don’t know what he sees.

At first, I ignore it. I convince myself I’m imagining things. But then, it happens again.

And again.

Until one day, he does more than just look.

It started off small.

"Hey," a voice says, casual but confident.

My highlighter sits on the page.

A thick streak of neon yellow bleeds over a sentence I was trying to mark, but my brain suddenly forgets how to function because someone is talking to me.

Slowly, very slowly, I turn my head.

He’s already sitting beside me, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

A dark hoodie, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a grin that’s just a little too amused.

His presence feels loud, even though he’s not making any actual noise.

My first instinct? Escape.

My second? Stare.

I do both in rapid succession, my eyes flicking toward the exit, then warily back at him, as if assessing how much of a threat he poses.

He doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does, and just doesn’t care.

"...Hi?" I say, but it comes out more like a question than a greeting.

His grin widens, like this is completely normal.

Like we talk all the time.

“You’re in my psychology class, right?”

I blink at him. That’s what this is about?

I nod once, not trusting my voice, because I don’t know why he’s here, or what he wants, and I hate not knowing things.

He leans back in his chair, completely at ease.

His dark eyes scan the open book in front of me, then flick back up to my face.

“You’re quiet.”

I exhale slowly through my nose. No shit.

I don’t reply.

I just wait. People like him, people who talk first and think later, usually get bored when they don’t get the response they want.

Any second now, he’ll lose interest. Any second now—

"Like, really quiet," he continues, undeterred.

His chin rests on his palm, elbow propped on the table, as if he’s studying me.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a full sentence.”

I resist the urge to sigh. Or groan. Or bang my head against the table.

Instead, I press my lips together and attempt to salvage my poor, over-highlighted page.

"Maybe because I don’t have anything to say."

He chuckles, low and warm, like I’ve just told some inside joke we both share.

Except we don’t.

“I don’t buy that,” he says.

I glance at him again, this time with actual irritation.

"Why do you care?"

His shoulders lift in an easy shrug, like he hasn’t even considered the question before.

“I don’t know. You’re interesting.”

I actually laugh. A small, startled sound that slips out before I can stop it.

Not because he’s right, but because that has to be the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.

"I’m not interesting," I say, shaking my head.

"You just don’t know me well enough to be bored yet."

His smirk deepens. "See? That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile."

I roll my eyes and refocus on my book.

"Congratulations. You’ve unlocked a new achievement."

He leans forward slightly, like I’ve just confirmed something for him. "So you can be sarcastic. Good to know."

I bite back another sigh. He’s not leaving. He’s settling in.

For a moment, I consider my options.

I could:

A) Ignore him until he gets the hint. B) Pack up my stuff and relocate to another part of the library. C) Say something so cold and blunt that he’ll regret ever sitting here.

I’m still debating when he speaks again.

"You always sit here," he muses.

I glance at him. "What?"

"In the library. Right here. This exact table." He tilts his head, thinking.

"You come in, you pull out your books, you highlight the hell out of your pages, and you don’t talk to anyone."

I stare at him, my pulse kicking up a notch.

"Have you been watching me?"

He shrugs, completely unapologetic. "More like... noticing."

"That’s the same thing."

"Not really," he counters, that lazy smirk still in place.

"Watching is weird. Noticing is just, paying attention."

I frown, my grip tightening on my highlighter.

"Why are you paying attention to me?"

He tilts his head, considering. "I don’t know. Maybe I like mysteries."

I scoff. "I’m not a mystery."

"Debatable."

I shake my head and focus very intently on my book.

But the problem is, I can still feel him there, his gaze lingering, his presence impossible to ignore.

And for the first time in forever, I feel seen.

I hate it.

Pedri doesn’t leave me alone after that.

At first, I tell myself it’s a coincidence.

A fluke.

That first conversation in the library? A one-time thing.

A moment of fleeting curiosity on his part.

But then it happens again. And again. And again.

It starts small.

A casual wave when he spots me across campus.

At first, I ignore it, assuming he’s greeting someone behind me.

But when I glance over my shoulder and see no one there, I realize, he’s waving at me.

I don’t wave back.

But that doesn’t stop him.

The next time, he adds a grin to it. The time after that, he calls my name, loud enough that people turn to look.

(Which, obviously, mortifies me.)

Then, there’s class.

He used to sit on the other side of the room.

I know this because I used to specifically sit where I wouldn’t have to be around too many people.

But one day, Pedri is suddenly there, dropping into the seat next to me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like he’s always been there.

I glance at him, suspicious. He just shrugs, pulling out his notebook.

"Better view from here."

I don’t buy that for a second, but I also don’t argue.

And then there are the conversations.

Or, more accurately, the ones he forces me into.

"So, what’s your verdict on our professor? Secretly a vampire, or just really hates sunlight?"

"If you had to survive on only one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? And if you say something boring like ‘salad,’ I might actually cry."

"I bet you secretly have a list of people you’d commit crimes for. I respect it."

Some days, I ignore him completely.

Other days, his persistence wears me down, and I give in with a sigh.

"Pasta," I mumble one afternoon.

He blinks. "Huh?"

"If I had to survive on one food. Pasta."

His entire face lights up like I’ve just gifted him something.

"Yes! Solid answer. Now, important follow-up question: are we talking plain pasta, or are you a sauce person?"

I sigh again, but this time, it’s less annoying. Maybe even a little amused.

Just a little.

And that’s how it starts.

I don’t even realize it’s happening at first.

How, little by little, I stop avoiding him.

How my replies stretch from one-word answers to full sentences.

How my body relaxes when he shows up, instead of tensing like I used to.

How I catch myself looking for him in class before he even arrives.

I try to convince myself that it means nothing.

That it’s just habit. That he’s just there, and I’ve gotten used to it.

But habits don’t make my heart skip when I see him across the quad.

Habits don’t make me bite back a smile when he says something stupid.

Habits don’t make my chest ache in ways I don’t know how to handle.

And somehow—without me fully understanding how or when or why, we become friends.

Or something dangerously close to it.

And it terrifies me.

Because Pedri is warmth, and I am used to distance.

Because he is effortless, and I have spent my whole life trying to be untouchable.

Because the more time I spend with him, the more I feel.

And feelings?

Feelings are dangerous.

Then it started with an invitation,

A casual one. Like it’s no big deal.

"Hey, wanna grab lunch with me?"

I glance up from my book, blinking at Pedri like he just asked me to rob a bank with him.

"What?"

"Lunch," he repeats, standing beside my table with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.

"You know, that thing people eat in the middle of the day?"

I roll my eyes. "I know what lunch is."

"Great. Then let’s go." He gestures toward the door like this is already decided.

I hesitate. "Why?"

"Because we both have to eat, and food is better with company," he says simply.

"And don’t say you weren’t planning to eat, because that would be tragic."

I chew on my bottom lip, searching for an excuse, any excuse, but nothing comes to mind.

Pedri doesn’t give me time to think too hard about it.

He reaches for my bag, lifting it from the table before I can protest.

"Come on," he says, grinning. "I promise not to bite."

I sigh, knowing I’ve already lost.

"Fine," I mumble. "But if this place is loud and crowded, I’m leaving."

He smirks. "Noted."

The restaurant he takes me to is small and tucked away, a quiet little place that somehow doesn’t feel overwhelming.

It’s warm inside, the air rich with the scent of fresh bread and spices.

There’s soft music playing in the background, and to my relief, no overwhelming crowd.

"See?" Pedri says as we step in. "Not too bad, right?"

I nod slowly. "It’s... nice."

He grins, clearly pleased with himself. "Told you I’d pick a good place."

We find a booth by the window, and for the first time, I feel oddly at ease.

We order our food, and somehow, Pedri keeps me engaged in conversation the entire time.

It’s easy. Effortless.

He talks about everything, his classes, his teammates, a hilarious story about how he once fell asleep in the middle of a Zoom lecture and got called out for it.

I laugh before I can stop myself.

He looks ridiculously proud of this accomplishment.

"You like my suffering," he accuses, eyes gleaming.

"I’m just impressed by your ability to sleep through an entire class," I tease.

Pedri gasps dramatically. "So she can joke. This is a breakthrough moment."

I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling.

We eat slowly, the conversation flowing without effort.

And it’s nice. Too nice.

Because for the first time in a long time, I feel something dangerously close to happy.

After lunch, Pedri suggests a walk.

I should say no. I should go back to my dorm, back to my safe space.

But instead, I find myself walking beside him, our steps slow and unhurried.

The campus is quieter now, the afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the trees. It feels peaceful.

We eventually find an empty bench near the park and sit down.

I exhale, tilting my head back slightly to feel the breeze on my skin.

Pedri watches me for a moment before speaking.

"You don’t let a lot of people in, do you?"

I glance at him. "That obvious?"

He shrugs. "I just notice things."

A beat of silence. Then—

"Why?" he asks softly.

I chew on the inside of my cheek. I don’t usually talk about this. I don’t talk about myself at all.

But with Pedri, it feels... safe.

"I like peace," I admit finally. "I like being quiet. Being unnoticed. It’s easier."

Pedri stays silent, waiting. Letting me talk.

I take a breath.

"People... they take up space. They expect things. They need things. And I—" I pause, searching for the right words.

"I don’t know how to be what people need. So I just don’t try. So I won't end up getting hurt."

Pedri listens carefully, nodding like he understands.

I look down at my hands.

"I spent so long blending into the background that I guess I forgot how to be anything else."

Pedri exhales softly. When he speaks, his voice is gentle.

"I get that," he says.

I glance at him, surprised.

He leans back against the bench, gazing up at the sky.

"You know, people always assume I like attention just because I’m popular. Because I’m always around people, always talking."

I nod slightly. He’s right. I did assume that.

"But the truth is," he continues, "I don’t care about any of that."

I frown. "Then why—"

"Why you?" He turns his head to look at me. "Why did I notice you?"

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry.

Pedri smiles, but it’s softer this time. "Because you’re real."

I blink. "What?"

"Everyone else is so... loud," he says.

"Always trying to be something, trying to impress, trying to fit into whatever image they think they need to be."

He shifts slightly, his knee brushing against mine.

"But you? You’re just you," he murmurs. "And that’s rare."

My heart does something weird in my chest. I don’t like it.

Pedri studies my face for a moment, then sighs.

"Look, I know you like being on your own. I know you don’t trust people easily. And I get that. But..." He hesitates, then turns fully toward me.

"Give me a chance," he says.

I inhale sharply. "Pedri—"

"Just a chance," he insists.

"Let me prove to you that I’m not like everyone else. That I don’t just want something from you."

I bite my lip, staring at the ground.

"You scare me," I whisper.

He blinks. "Me?"

I nod. "Not in a bad way. Just... you make me feel things. And I don’t know how to handle that."

Pedri’s gaze softens, and he reaches out, hesitating for a second before lightly brushing his fingers against mine.

"You don’t have to handle it alone," he says gently.

"Let me in. Just a little."

I look at our hands, barely touching, then back at him.

His expression is so open, so earnest, that something in me cracks just a little.

Maybe just a little wouldn’t be so bad.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

I take a deep breath. Then, slowly, hesitantly, I nod.

Pedri smiles, squeezing my fingers lightly before pulling away, giving me space.

And for the first time, it doesn’t feel terrifying.

It happens gradually.

One moment, he’s just there, the way he always is, persistent, warm, impossible to ignore.

The next, he’s everywhere.

And suddenly, Pedri is mine.

Which is strange...

If you would've told me I would end up with the most popular guy of my uni, I would've straight up laughed in your face.

But, here we're... I guess.

It’s funny how quickly I get used to him.

To his presence, his warmth, the way he seamlessly fits into my life like he’s always been there.

And maybe it should scare me.

Maybe I should keep my distance, hold onto the walls I spent so long building.

But with Pedri, distance feels... impossible.

Because he refuses to be anything less than close.

It doesn’t take long for people to notice.

Because Pedri isn’t subtle. At all.

If anything, he seems to take genuine delight in shocking people.

Like the time we’re walking across campus, and he suddenly grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

I freeze.

"Pedri—" I start, eyes darting around, but he just squeezes my hand.

"Relax," he murmurs, glancing down at me with a small smile.

"It’s just me."

I exhale slowly. It’s just him.

I tell myself to pull away, but I don’t.

And then I really regret it when I hear a group of students whispering nearby.

"Wait—are they holding hands?"

"No way. Pedri and y/n?"

"How did that even happen?"

I feel my entire face heat up, but Pedri? He doesn’t care at all.

If anything, he likes it.

Because the next day, when we’re sitting together in class, he casually reaches over and plays with my fingers under the desk.

Like it’s a habit.

Like he just wants to touch me.

"Pedri," I hiss quietly, trying to pull my hand away.

He smirks but tightens his grip. "You’re cute when you’re flustered."

I glare at him. "You’re annoying."

"And yet," he hums, "you still let me hold your hand."

Damn it.

Outside of school, it’s even worse.

Because Pedri doesn’t just want to see me in class, he wants to see me all the time.

"Are you free later?" he asks one afternoon.

I glance up from my notes. "Why?"

"Because I wanna see you," he says easily.

I blink. "You see me every day."

He grins. "Yeah, and?"

I sigh but don’t argue. Because, honestly?

I want to see him too.

Some nights, he comes over with zero warning.

Like when I’m sitting on my bed, fully prepared to spend my evening reading, and suddenly—

Knock, knock.

I groan, already knowing who it is.

When I open the door, Pedri is standing there with two cups of hot chocolate and a ridiculously pleased expression.

"You didn’t text me," I say, raising an eyebrow.

"Didn’t think I needed to," he says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

I sigh. "What if I was busy?"

He flops onto my bed, looking completely at home. "Then I’d just sit here and wait for you to be un-busy."

I shake my head, but my lips twitch. I hate how much I like this.

One day, we’re supposed to grab lunch, but it starts pouring out of nowhere.

Pedri and I sprint across campus, completely drenched by the time we duck into the nearest café.

I groan, wringing out my hoodie. "Well, this sucks."

Pedri grins, shaking water from his hair like a golden retriever.

"Nah. I kinda like it."

"You like being soaked?" I deadpan.

"No," he chuckles. "I like that it means I get to stay here with you longer."

And damn it, he means it.

I shake my head, trying to ignore the way my heart clenches.

We sit by the window, watching the rain while sharing a plate of fries.

Pedri drapes his hoodie over my shoulders because I’m still shivering, and when I glance at him, he just shrugs.

"What’s mine is yours, princesa."

I roll my eyes, but the warmth in my chest doesn’t go away.

One night, we’re lying on my bed, facing each other in the soft glow of my bedside lamp.

It’s quiet, comfortable.

Pedri reaches out, tracing lazy patterns on my wrist.

"You ever think about what would’ve happened if I never sat next to you that day?" he murmurs.

I blink. "What?"

"In the library," he says. "If I never sat down. If I never talked to you or approached you. What do you think would’ve happened?"

I think about it for a second. "I guess... nothing."

Pedri frowns slightly.

"You wouldn’t have noticed me," I explain. "And I would’ve kept living my life the way I always have."

His grip on my wrist tightens slightly. "That’s a terrible answer."

I laugh softly. "It’s the truth."

"Well, I hate it," he says.

I tilt my head. "Why?"

Pedri exhales.

"Because I can’t imagine my life without you now," he murmurs. "And I don’t want to."

My breath catches.

He’s staring at me with so much emotion, like I’m the most important thing in his universe.

"I meant what I said," he continues softly.

"I don’t care that you’re quiet. I don’t care that you like being in the background. I don’t care that people think we don’t make sense."

His fingers brush against my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You make sense to me," he whispers.

I don’t know what to say.

Pedri smiles slightly like he can hear all the things I’m too scared to say.

"You don’t have to say anything," he murmurs.

"Just, promise me you won’t push me away."

I swallow. "Pedri..."

"Please," he breathes. "Just let me love you."

My chest tightens, the weight of his words settling deep inside me.

But instead of answering, I reach for him, fingers threading through his hair as I pull him closer.

His lips meet mine, slow, soft, certain, and in that moment, I know.

I know that Pedri is different.

I know that I’ve already fallen for him.

And for the first time in a long time,

I don’t want to run.

It’s a normal day at school.

Or at least, it should be.

Except nothing is ever normal when you’re dating Pedri.

We’re sitting outside on one of the campus benches, a rare moment of peace in between classes.

I’m trying to eat my lunch, but Pedri, ever the distraction, is making that very difficult.

"You’re not even paying attention to me," he pouts, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Because I’m eating," I say, taking another bite of my sandwich.

"But I’m right here."

"And?"

"And I require attention."

I roll my eyes, but I can’t hide my smile.

Pedri grins, clearly pleased with himself.

He reaches up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, then lets his fingers trail down my arm before entwining our hands together.

"Better," he hums, like this was the missing piece of his day.

I shake my head but squeeze his hand anyway.

For a moment, it’s quiet, and comfortable, like it always is with him.

And then he drops a bombshell.

"So, I was thinking... you should come to my parents’ house this weekend."

I nearly choke on my drink. "Wait—what?"

"To my parents’ house," he repeats easily as if he’s asking me to grab a coffee, not meet his entire family.

"For dinner. Just something casual."

Casual?

Meeting his parents is casual?!

My brain short-circuits.

"Pedri, I—" I pause, exhaling. "That’s... a big step."

He tilts his head, studying me. "Is it?"

"Yes," I say, nodding vigorously.

"I mean, it’s your family. What if they don’t like me?"

Pedri immediately frowns, turning his entire body towards me.

"First of all, there’s literally no way they won’t like you."

I bite my lip, looking down at my hands. "You don’t know that."

"Yes, I do," he says firmly.

"You’re smart, and kind, and funny, and—" He pauses, squeezing my hand.

"And you make me happy. That’s all they need to know."

I feel my heart clench.

Damn him. Damn him and his words that make me weak.

I hesitate for a few more seconds before exhaling. "Okay... I’ll go."

His face lights up, and suddenly, I know I made the right choice.

"Good," he says smugly.

"Because if you said no, I was gonna beg."

I snort. "I would’ve made you suffer a little first."

"That’s mean."

"That’s justice."

Pedri grins, tugging me closer. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

That weekend, I stood in front of my mirror, stressing out.

What do you wear to meet your boyfriend’s parents?

I don’t want to be too formal and look like I’m trying too hard, but I also don’t want to look like I just threw on the first thing I found.

After way too much debating, I settle on something simple yet cute, just enough effort to look put-together.

And right on cue, my phone buzzes.

Pedri: I’m outside <3

I grab my bag, take a deep breath, and head out.

As soon as I open the door, I see him leaning against his car, arms crossed, a lazy grin spreading across his face the moment he sees me.

"Wow," he whistles, giving me an obvious once-over.

I shift on my feet, suddenly self-conscious. "What?"

"You look—" He pauses, stepping closer. "Beautiful."

My face heats up. "Shut up."

"I’m serious," he murmurs, eyes shining.

"My mom’s gonna love you even more now."

I roll my eyes but smile as he opens the car door for me.

As we drive, I feel the nerves creeping in again.

My hands rest stiffly on my lap, and I stare out the window, chewing on my lip.

Pedri notices immediately.

Without a word, he reaches over and takes my hand, intertwining our fingers.

"Breathe, princesa," he murmurs.

I exhale shakily. "I just don’t want to mess this up."

"You won’t."

"How do you know?"

Pedri lifts our joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.

"Because you’re you," he says simply.

And just like that, some of the nerves fade.

As soon as we arrive, Pedri barely has time to knock before the door swings open, revealing his mother.

"Hola, cariño!" she exclaims, pulling Pedri into a tight hug, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

He laughs, hugging her back. "Hola, mamá."

Then, her eyes land on me.

And suddenly, I forget how to breathe.

"And this must be y/n, the girl I’ve heard so much about," she says warmly, her gaze kind and curious.

I hesitate for a moment before stepping forward, offering a polite smile. "Hi, it’s really nice to meet you."

To my surprise, her face softens even more before she pulls me into a gentle hug.

"Oh, you’re adorable," she murmurs before pulling away.

"Come in, come in."

As we step inside, I glance at Pedri, who is smirking at me like he knew this would happen.

He leans down, whispering, "Told you she’d love you."

I glare at him, nudging him with my elbow, but the warmth in my chest doesn’t fade.

The house is warm and inviting, decorated with framed pictures of Pedri and his family.

Some are from his childhood, others more recent, like his love for football evident in every corner.

I take a moment to glance at one of the shelves, where several of his trophies and awards sit proudly.

"You’re staring, princesa," Pedri teases, nudging my shoulder.

"It’s just weird seeing your entire life displayed like this," I murmur.

Before he can reply, a deep voice cuts through the room.

"So this is the famous girl?"

I turn to see Fernando, Pedri’s older brother, leaning against the doorway with an amused expression.

"The one and only," Pedri says smugly, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

I shoot him a look but manage a polite smile. "It’s nice to meet you."

Fernando nods, eyeing Pedri. "Well, I have to say, I’m impressed. I thought you were just making her up."

I snort, while Pedri glares. "I hate you."

"Love you too, hermano."

His mother shakes her head, laughing. "Boys, enough. Let’s eat."

Dinner is incredible, and not just the food (which is honestly some of the best I’ve ever had).

Pedri’s mom made a full spread, and every bite tastes like it was cooked with love.

"This is amazing," I say, genuinely in awe.

His mom beams. "Thank you, cariño. Eat as much as you want."

"Careful," Fernando jokes. "She’ll try to adopt you if you say that too many times."

Pedri smirks. "Too late. She’s already mine."

I nearly choke on my drink.

His mother laughs while Fernando groans.

"God, you’re embarrassing."

Pedri shrugs, completely unfazed, squeezing my knee under the table.

Throughout the meal, his parents ask me questions, not in an overwhelming way, but enough to show that they’re genuinely interested in getting to know me.

His dad is quieter but still warm, occasionally chiming in with a question or a story about Pedri as a kid.

"Did he tell you he used to cry when he lost board games?" his dad asks, smirking.

I light up. "No, but I love that."

Pedri groans, slumping in his chair. "Why are we exposing me?"

"Because it’s fun," Fernando says, grinning.

I giggle, and Pedri shoots me a betrayed look.

"You’re supposed to be on my side," he mutters.

"I am," I say sweetly. "Just... not right now."

After dinner, I insist on helping with the dishes.

"Oh, no, cariño, you’re a guest," his mother says, waving me off.

"Please," I say, offering a small smile. "I want to help."

She eyes me for a moment before nodding. "Alright. But only because you asked so nicely."

As we stand by the sink, washing plates, she suddenly speaks up.

"You know," she starts, her tone thoughtful, "I wasn’t a fan of the other girls Pedri has dated."

I blink, glancing at her. "Oh?"

She nods, rinsing a dish.

"They only wanted him for his name and popularity. But you... you seem different."

I swallow. "I just like him for who he is."

She smiles softly. "I know. And that’s why I like you."

Something warm blooms in my chest.

"You’re good for him," she continues.

"He’s always been surrounded by people who want something from him. But with you? I see the way he looks at you, the way he talks about you."

She pauses, drying her hands before turning to face me.

"I can tell you care about him."

I nod, my throat feeling tight. "I do. A lot."

She smiles, patting my hand. "Then that’s all I need to know."

As we drive back, Pedri is grinning like an idiot.

"That went amazing," he says, eyes flickering to me.

"It did," I admit.

"See? You worried for nothing."

I sigh. "Yeah, yeah. You were right."

He gasps dramatically. "Wait, say that again?"

"I will never repeat it."

He laughs, reaching over to squeeze my thigh. "I’m proud of you, princesa."

I glance at him. "Why?"

"Because I know this wasn’t easy for you," he says softly.

"But you did it. And my mom loves you. My dad and Fernando too."

I bite my lip. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he murmurs. "But more importantly, I love you."

My heart stops.

Pedri, realizing what he just said, suddenly tenses.

"Wait—" His eyes widen. "I mean—"

I laugh softly. "It’s okay, Pedri."

He swallows. "I just... I love you, okay? And I don’t care if that scares you. I’m not going anywhere."

I look at him, really look at him, and feel something inside me settle.

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I reach over, lacing my fingers with his.

"Drive, Pedri," I whisper.

He exhales, squeezing my hand. "I’ll wait for you, princesa. However long it takes."

And as we head home, I realize—

I don’t think it’ll take very long at all.

It was another boring uni day. A day full of back-to-back classes.

I’m in the library, stacking my books neatly into my arms, already mentally preparing for my next class.

My mind is quiet, calm, focused on anything but him.

Pedri had texted me this morning, telling me he had early practice and would see me later.

"Have a good day, princesa ❤️ Miss you."

I had smiled when I read it.

I shouldn’t have.

I adjust my grip on the books and turn toward the exit. Then I hear it.

Laughter. Loud voices.

At first, I don’t think anything of it. Until I hear my name.

I stop. My heart stutters.

I tell myself it’s nothing, that maybe I misheard, that maybe it’s just some random conversation.

But then a voice cuts through the noise, A voice I know better than anyone else’s.

His voice.

Pedri.

My stomach twists, my fingers tightening around the books as I take a cautious step forward.

The voices are coming from the hallway just ahead, around the corner.

I shouldn’t listen. I shouldn’t. But I do.

"Bro, you’re actually still with her?" one of his friends cackles.

"I swear I thought this was just a bet or some shit."

Pedri laughs.

That’s the first stab.

"Nah, man. No bet."

"Then what the fuck is it?" someone else scoffs. "There’s no way you’re actually into her."

Pedri lets out a low chuckle. "Come on, man. You really think I’d go for a girl like that?"

A girl like that.

"Exactly," another voice chimes in.

"She’s fucking boring, bro. Always sitting in the back, never talking, just reading like she’s in some old-ass novel or something. You could have literally anyone, why waste time on her?"

"It’s not like that," Pedri says easily. "She’s just… convenient."

The air leaves my lungs.

"Convenient?" one of his friends laughs. "What, like a little charity case?"

Pedri doesn’t deny it.

He fucking laughs.

"Nah, it’s just easy, you know?" he shrugs.

"She doesn’t ask for much. Doesn’t complain. Doesn’t make a big deal out of shit. I don’t have to try too hard."

"So you’re with her because she’s easy?"

Pedri snickers.

"More like… low maintenance. She’s quiet, doesn’t bother me when I’m busy, doesn’t start drama. It’s just chill. I don’t have to worry about her blowing up my phone or expecting too much."

I feel sick.

"Damn, so you’re basically keeping her around for convenience?"

"I mean, yeah," Pedri mutters. "She’s just... there. It’s not that deep."

The laughter erupts around him.

I think I might throw up.

"Fucking knew it," one of them howls. "You had us thinking you were actually in love with her or some shit."

Pedri laughs harder.

"Come on, man. You really think I’d fall for her?"

My heart shatters.

I can’t listen anymore. I can’t.

The pain is too much, the walls around me caving in, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

I need to get out of here.

I don’t know how long I stand there.

Seconds? Minutes?

Everything is a blur.

Their laughter rings in my ears, mocking me, haunting me.

Tears burn at the back of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.

I won’t let them have that power over me. My body moves on its own. One step.

Then another.

Then I’m walking away.

I don’t care where I’m going.

I just need to get the hell out of there.

I don’t go to my next class. I don’t care about my next class. I walk. Fast.

Away from the library, away from the voices, away from the truth clawing at my chest.

I feel numb.

Like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and I’m just walking around with a hollow, empty space inside me.

My phone vibrates in my pocket.

I don’t check it. I don’t need to. It’s him. It has to be. I ignore it.

I ignore the ache in my chest, the sting behind my eyes, the lump in my throat that makes it hard to breathe.

I just keep walking.

By the time I finally return to my dorm, the sky is a deep shade of blue, the sun barely peeking over the horizon.

I close the door behind me, my body exhausted, drained.

And then there’s a knock. I hesitate, my pulse spiking.

I already know who it is.

I take a slow, shaky breath, gripping the door handle before pulling it open.

Pedri stands there.

His brows are furrowed, concern laced into every inch of his face.

"What the hell, Y/N?" he asks immediately. "Why haven’t you been answering me all day?"

I stare at him.

He looks so… confused. Like he has no idea what he did.

That makes me angrier.

"Go away, Pedri."

His eyes widen slightly. "What? No. What’s going on? Did something happen?"

I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you ask your friends?"

He freezes. And I see it.

I see the exact moment realization hits.

His lips part slightly, but no words come out.

"Yeah," I say, voice shaking. "I heard you. I heard everything."

"Princesa—"

"Don’t." I take a step back. "Just don’t."

His jaw clenches. "I didn’t mean it."

I laugh again, but it hurts.

"Right," I nod. "Because saying I’m just some joke? Saying you’re pretending to like me? That just… accidentally came out of your mouth?"

"It’s not like that," he says quickly, stepping forward. "Please, Y/n. Just let me explain."

"Explain what?" I snap. "That I’m just some quiet, boring idiot who actually believed you cared about me?"

He flinches.

"That’s not true," he says, his voice softer now.

"It doesn’t matter," I whisper.

"It does."

"No, Pedri. It really doesn’t."

I exhale shakily, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze one last time.

"I can’t do this anymore."

His breath catches. "What?"

"We’re done."

I step back, my hands shaking as I close the door in his face.

For a few seconds, I don’t move.

I don’t breathe.

And then I hear it—

A soft, desperate whisper from the other side of the door.

"Please don’t leave me."

Tears stream down my face.

But I don’t open the door.

And I don’t look back.

The days blur together, a mess of sleepless nights and suffocating thoughts.

I barely eat, barely leave my dorm, barely exist outside of my own mind.

Every time I close my eyes, I hear his voice.

Every time I let my thoughts wander, I remember the way his words sliced through me like a blade.

My phone buzzes constantly, but I ignore it.

At first, I let it ring, let the messages pile up, let his name flash across my screen like a cruel reminder of what happened.

But he doesn’t stop.

"Y/n, please." "At least talk to me." "I need to explain." "I miss you."

Every day, every hour, his messages come in, desperate and persistent.

And every time, I stare at them with tears burning in my eyes, fingers hovering over the screen before I lock my phone and shove it under my pillow.

Then, after a few days, I finally block him.

I expect that to be the end of it.

But Pedri doesn’t give up so easily.

It starts with soft knocks on my door, hesitant at first, then firmer when I don’t answer.+

I stay curled up in bed, biting my lip to keep from crying out in frustration.

Then, when I wake up one morning and open my door, I see flowers.

A bouquet of my favorite ones, left neatly against the doorframe.

The first time, I hesitate.

The second time, I stare at them for a long time before stepping over them.

The third time, I pick them up, hold them in my hands for a moment, and then drop them in the trash.

And yet, the next day, there’s another bouquet.

Every single day, without fail, there’s a new one waiting for me. And every time, I feel my resolve cracking a little bit more.

But I’m not ready.

I don’t even know if I ever will be.

One week later, I finally force myself to go back to school.

I can’t hide forever.

I tell myself I’ve had time to heal, that I’ve built up enough strength to walk these halls without feeling like I’m suffocating under the weight of my own emotions.

That I can handle seeing him again.

But the second I step onto campus, my chest tightens, and my heart pounds against my ribcage like it’s trying to escape.

I keep my head down, moving quickly, avoiding eye contact, avoiding him.

But I can feel it. His presence. His eyes.

I know he’s seen me. I don’t look.

I don’t want to see the desperation in his expression, don’t want to acknowledge the way my stomach twists painfully at the thought of him standing somewhere nearby, watching me, waiting.

I force myself through class, focus on my notes, pretend everything is normal even though nothing is normal anymore.

But later, as I leave my last lecture, I barely take two steps before I feel it—

A hand gently grabbing my wrist, pulling me back.

I freeze.

His touch is familiar, careful, like he’s afraid I’ll run.

"Y/n."

His voice is quiet, raw, holding a plea that makes my throat tighten.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before finally turning around, my expression carefully blank.

Pedri stands there, looking at me like I’m the most important thing in the world and he’s terrified he’s already lost me.

"Please," he says softly, his fingers still around my wrist. "Just let me explain."

I exhale slowly, trying to keep my voice steady. "There’s nothing to explain, Pedri."

"Yes, there is," he insists, stepping closer.

His hold on my wrist loosens, but he doesn’t let go completely, like he’s afraid that if he does, I’ll disappear.

"Just give me five minutes. That’s all I’m asking."

I hesitate, my mind screaming at me to walk away. But something in his eyes, something so painfully real, holds me in place.

I sigh, crossing my arms. "Fine. Five minutes."

He pulls me aside to a quieter part of campus, away from the crowd, away from prying eyes.

I stand stiffly, my arms still crossed, my body tense like I’m ready to run at any second.

"I never meant what I said," he starts immediately. "I swear to you, Y/n. I didn’t mean a single fucking word of it."

I let out a hollow laugh. "Right. You just happened to say all those things for fun? Just to impress your asshole friends?"

"No," he says quickly, shaking his head. "It wasn’t for fun. It was to protect you."

I blink. "Excuse me?"

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair.

"Those guys? They’re not my friends. They never were. But they have a way of making people’s lives hell. I knew that if I admitted how much I cared about you, they’d go after you. Mock you. Make your life miserable. I thought if I played it off, if I made it seem like I didn’t care, they’d lose interest and leave you alone. Trust me Y/n iy happened before and it had gotten really ugly. I didn't want that to happen to the person I love."

I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "You really think that justifies what you said?"

"No," he admits, his voice softer. "It doesn’t. I was an idiot. I should’ve told you. I should’ve trusted you to understand. But I swear to you, Y/n, I would never actually think those things about you."

"Be a fucking man Pedri and instead of doing this shit stand up for the person you supposedly love. You're nothing but a pussy."

I swallow, my emotions warring inside me. I don’t know what to feel.

So I leave. Again.

Later that day,

It all happens too quickly.

One moment, I’m walking across campus, lost in my own thoughts, and the next, there’s chaos.

A crowd gathers around a scene near the student quad. Loud shouts and yells fill the air.

My heart skips a beat as I push through the mass of students, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s going on.

I’m not expecting to see what I do.

There’s Pedri.

His fists are flying, and the guy he’s fighting, the asshole, is holding his jaw, clearly stunned.

But Pedri doesn’t stop. He throws another punch, fury in his eyes. I see the red in his face, the anger, and it’s not just at the guy. It’s everything. The hurt. The frustration.

The last few weeks have been hell for both of us, but in this moment, it’s all coming out.

His fists are like his words, punching through everything that’s built up, everything that’s been left unsaid.

But I can’t watch it anymore. I’ve seen enough violence in my life to know when things are about to spiral.

“Pedri! Stop!” I shout, pushing through the crowd to grab his arm, pulling him back.

He jerks his head towards me, his expression wild, eyes wide with a mix of rage and confusion.

I hold onto his arm tightly, trying to calm him down.

I don’t know why I’m even doing this for him, but it’s like I’m drawn to him, like I can’t just walk away.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, but slowly, the fight drains out of him as he looks into my eyes.

His breath is ragged, and his hands are clenched into tight fists, knuckles covered in blood.

“Are you stupid?” I mutter, my hands trembling slightly as I grab his arm and pull him away from the scene.

The crowd disperses, some murmuring, others filming with their phones.

Pedri doesn't fight me.

He lets me drag him away, and somehow, I find myself leading him into the first-aid room, a small quiet space where the tension in my chest can finally loosen, even if just a little.

I shove him onto the chair and kneel down, rummaging through the first aid kit.

“Why do you do this?” I ask, my voice shaking. I try to stay calm, but my hands are shaking as I pull out the bandages.

I clean his bloody knuckles carefully, avoiding looking at him too much. I can’t let myself soften. Not yet.

He sighs deeply, his voice low, raw. “He was talking shit about you again. That guy, he just won’t leave you alone. I had to make it stop.”

My heart sinks, and I bite my lip hard. I don’t know how to feel. My stomach churns.

Why did he feel the need to fight again? Why did he let it get this far?

“But why do you keep doing this?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

"I... I don’t understand, Pedri. You say you care, but you keep pushing me away in the worst ways possible."

Pedri doesn’t answer right away. He stares at me for a long moment, his brow furrowed as though he’s considering every word carefully.

I can see the guilt in his eyes, the regret, the desperation. He wants me to understand. He needs me to.

“I—” He hesitates, his voice cracking slightly.

“I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you feel like you were a joke. I thought... I thought I was protecting you, Y/n. From people who wouldn’t appreciate you the way I do. Those guys... They’ll never understand how much you mean to me. But they will hurt you if they think you matter to me."

I’m speechless, blinking at him. There’s a part of me that wants to scream, to tell him he’s full of shit, but the truth in his eyes catches me off guard.

He’s being real, and it’s so hard for me to reconcile that with the image of the guy I heard talking shit about me, degrading me, the guy I’ve been blocking out of my life for a week.

“You should’ve told me that before, Pedri.” I swallow hard.

My voice trembles with the weight of everything.

“Instead of... doing that. I don’t understand why you had to hurt me first.”

He doesn’t look away. He looks... guilty.

“I didn’t know how to explain. I didn’t want you to think I was using you as some kind of... shield or something. But I wasn’t. I swear, I wasn’t.”

His eyes soften as he gently reaches for my hand, his touch so careful now, like I might shatter at any second.

I pull away, feeling the heat of his gaze burn into me.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you yet, Pedri,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath.

“You hurt me too much. And... I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel anymore.”

He nods, his lips pressing together in frustration. “I’ll do anything to make it right. I don’t care what it takes.”

I turn away, my heart heavy, my thoughts too tangled to untangle.

It’s not so simple anymore. I don’t know if it ever will be.

I walk away, feeling like a piece of me is being pulled in two different directions.

The days that follow are both long and quiet. The silence between Pedri and me feels deafening, like an invisible wall built higher with every moment.

He’s not giving up on me, though. Not even close.

It’s hard for me to stay distant. Hard for me to ignore him.

But it feels like I have no other choice. Every time I open my phone, I see his name.

Every time I hear a knock on my dorm door, I know it’s him. But I don’t answer. I won’t.

Still, something is different now. I notice his absence more than I expect.

The void he left in my life isn’t easy to fill. His quiet persistence is eating at me, but I won’t let it show. Not yet.

Pedri, however, doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let up.

At first, it’s small gestures. One morning, I find a handwritten note slipped under my door.

Just his name at the bottom, a few simple words.

“I’m sorry. Please give me a chance to prove I’m worth it.”

It’s the first time I’ve seen him so vulnerable. He’s always been confident, cocky even.

But this? This is different. I can feel the weight of his apology in the paper, and I fold it carefully, slipping it into my pocket.

Then, the flowers start.

He leaves them outside my dorm door every evening, sometimes daisies, sometimes sunflowers, always with a small note attached that says the same thing, “I’m sorry. Let me make it right.”

I feel the pull to just let him back in, but I resist. I’m not ready. I’m still broken.

Days go by, and I finally decide to leave my dorm to go to class. I walk through campus, trying to focus on the routine, trying to shut out everything else.

But I can’t. Pedri’s presence is everywhere.

I see him talking to the guys he used to hang out with, but now he’s different. He’s distant. Not laughing. Not joking around.

I can see it in the way he avoids eye contact, the way he doesn’t engage with them anymore.

His posture is closed off, like he’s shutting something down. I don’t know what it means, but something stirs in me.

Maybe it’s guilt, maybe it’s hope.

That’s when I notice it, his transformation.

Pedri has made a point to distance himself from the very people who encouraged him to hurt me.

He doesn’t hang out with those friends anymore. The ones who always made fun of me, belittled me, and tried to convince him I wasn’t “good enough.”

The ones who laughed at my expense and pushed him to do the same.

He’s even going out of his way to take different routes on campus, avoiding his old crew altogether.

It’s subtle at first, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. He’s proving to me, in the smallest ways, that he’s changing.

That he’s fighting for something that matters more than his pride.

One day, I’m walking to class when I hear footsteps behind me. A familiar voice calls my name.

“Y/n.”

I don’t turn around, pretending like I didn’t hear him.

He’s been trying to talk to me for days, but every time I shut him down. It’s easier that way.

It’s safer.

But then, he’s right beside me, his presence undeniable.

“Please, just let me explain,” Pedri says, his voice low. There’s a softness in it now, no trace of arrogance. Just sincerity.

I finally stop, reluctantly meeting his eyes. He’s standing there, his expression full of regret, but something else, too, determination.

“I’m listening,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I... I’ve been thinking about everything,” he starts, hesitating, as if searching for the right words.

“I was an idiot, Y/n. I should’ve never listened to them, and I should’ve never pushed you away like I did. I wasn’t protecting you. I was just being selfish. And I never should’ve treated you like you were second best. I was wrong. I’m so sorry.”

His words hit me hard, and I want to yell at him. To tell him that his apology doesn’t fix anything.

But the truth is, he’s right. He was selfish. And I was hurt.

But there’s something about him, something in the way he’s looking at me now, that makes me wonder if he really means it.

“I don’t know, Pedri,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“You say you’re sorry, but it doesn’t undo everything. It doesn’t fix what you said or what you did.”

“I know,” he replies quickly.

“And I’m not asking for you to forgive me right away. I’m asking for a chance to show you that I can do better. That I can be the person you deserve. But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me prove it.”

For a moment, we stand there in silence, my mind racing with all the things I’m still unsure about.

But then I notice it, the genuine effort in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice. He’s not just saying the right things.

He’s living it.

“I’ll prove it to you every day,” he says, his voice firm.

“I’ve already cut ties with the guys who put you down. I don’t need people like that in my life. They can think whatever they want, but you? You matter. You always have. I’ll prove that to you, Y/n. I swear.”

I swallow hard, his words breaking through my walls. I want to stay angry.

I want to stay hurt. But everything in me is telling me that maybe, just maybe, he’s worth another chance.

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” I whisper.

“But... I’ll try. Slowly.”

Pedri’s eyes light up, and for the first time in weeks, I see a glimpse of the boy I used to know.

“That’s all I need. Just a chance.”

From that day on, I watch him like a hawk.

Pedri is relentless. He’s not just sending flowers or leaving notes anymore, he’s putting in real effort.

He spends his free time sitting with me in the library, helping me with schoolwork, never pushing for anything more.

Every time I see him talking to his old friends, he’s distant, his back turned, never engaging with the people who once made him feel like he was better than me.

He’s proving to me, with every small action, that he’s serious.

One day, as we sit in the park near campus, he looks at me quietly, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup.

“I know it’s not enough,” he says softly,

“but I hope one day you’ll look at me and see someone who actually cares. Someone who will fight for you, no matter what.”

I look at him then, really look at him, and for the first time in a long while, I believe it.

He’s not perfect. He might have messed up. But he’s doing everything he can to make it right.

“Okay,” I whisper, my heart beating faster. “I’ll let you try.”

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough for now.

A few months later,

the tension between Pedri and me starts to ease. He’s patient, more so than I’ve ever seen him.

And with every day that passes, he seems to be putting more and more effort into proving that he’s not just saying the words.

He’s showing it.

But there’s something else. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.

Pedri hasn’t stopped trying to make things right, and it’s clear he’s not giving up on us.

It’s not just the grand gestures anymore, but the small, thoughtful ones, like leaving me my favorite coffee in the library, or texting me random jokes in the middle of the day to make me smile. (bare minimum fr)

And when I finally start to look at him again, I can see it. There’s real change in him.

And so, when he asks if I’ll go out with him on a date, I don’t say no.

But I don’t expect what happens next.

It’s a Saturday evening, and Pedri messages me earlier in the day, asking me to meet him at 6 PM sharp.

When I arrive at the spot he texted me, the park near campus, I’m greeted with something that takes my breath away.

There, in front of me, is a blanket spread out on the grass. The soft glow of fairy lights surrounds the area, strung between trees, creating a romantic little nook in the middle of the park.

On the blanket, there’s a picnic basket, candles, and even my favorite flowers, lilies, pink and white, arranged in a vase.

It’s not what I expected from him. At all.

Pedri stands beside it all, hands in his pockets, looking nervous as hell.

His eyes light up when he sees me, and for the first time in ages, I see a boy who’s trying harder than anyone ever has to make me feel special.

“Y/n,” he says, his voice shaky but hopeful.

“I know I’ve messed up. But I wanted to show you... that I’m serious about this. About us.”

I stand there for a moment, blinking at the effort he’s put into this.

The last time we were together like this, things were so different.

It feels like we’ve both come a long way.

“Are you serious?” I ask, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

“I’ve never seen you do anything like this before.”

“I know,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But you deserve something better than what I gave you. You deserve to feel appreciated. And not just with words, but with actions. I know this isn’t enough, but... I hope it’s a start.”

I can’t help but smile, my heart beating a little faster as I walk over to him.

“I think it’s a perfect start, Pedri.”

He grins, relief flooding his features.

“I’m glad. I thought I might’ve messed it up with the flowers and all that.”

“Honestly? It’s the most effort anyone’s ever put into a date for me,”

I admit, my voice soft, but sincere.

Pedri chuckles, and his eyes soften.

“Well, then I guess I’m doing something right.”

We sit down on the blanket, and the evening goes from awkward to comfortable, and then, as the conversation flows, it becomes something even more.

We talk about everything, the past, the mistakes, the ways we’ve grown.

We laugh about stupid stuff, and he even admits to being terrible at making dinner (something I’d suspected from the start, but now it’s confirmed).

He makes a joke about how he can barely toast bread without burning it, and I can’t help but laugh.

“I’ll cook for you sometime,” he says with a playful grin. “And you can judge my terrible cooking skills.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” I tease, nudging him with my elbow. “But sure. I’ll take you up on that.”

We settle into a comfortable silence for a while, just listening to the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.

It feels... nice. Simple. And yet, it’s everything I’ve been wanting. I can feel the trust building again, piece by piece.

“Y/n,” he says quietly after a long pause, turning to face me.

“I know I messed up. But I need you to know that I would do anything to make things right. I’ll spend every day proving to you that you’re the one I want, the one I need.”

I look into his eyes, eyes full of sincerity, full of hope, and for the first time in a long while, I believe him.

“Okay,” I whisper, my heart thudding in my chest. “I’ll give you that chance.”

Pedri’s eyes widen, and a grin spreads across his face so fast it takes me by surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I say with a playful smile. “But only if you promise to keep the flowers coming.”

He laughs, his face lighting up like I’ve just given him the biggest gift in the world.

“Done. I’ll keep the flowers and the dates coming. Just don’t leave me again, okay?”

I laugh softly, nudging him again. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“And you’re lucky I’m good at dates,” he grins, leaning in close, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper.

“Otherwise, I’d be in serious trouble.”

“Oh, you’re already in serious trouble,” I tease back, rolling my eyes.

“But I guess I’ll give you another chance. For now.”

Pedri leans back, throwing his arms around me in a mock dramatic fashion.

“I’ll make the most of it, I promise! I’ll win you over... one bad joke at a time.”

I can’t help but laugh as I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body next to mine.

It’s easy now. It’s natural.

“I’ll hold you to that, Pedri,” I say softly, closing my eyes for a moment.

And for the first time in months, everything feels right again.

The end

[ilysungho]

hi! this is actually my very first time doing this so im not rlly sure what to say .. but i rlly like the way u think and write and ive been thinking abt something with taessn … forced submission.

starting off taesan trying to dom you but then gets forced into submission but hes still bratty, not wanting to admit that he lwk likes it, instead just tempting you even more. eventually leading to giving him a hj/bj but when u ask him to call you mommy he refuses .. leading to lot of edging until he finally breaks

GRAAA Ive been thinking for a while JDBDJDHDJD

ahhh thank you so much for supporting me love 🥹 i’m happy to know that, and glad to be the first(?) person you send an anon msg to <3 i hope this is good, feel free to let me know more of your thoughts 💗

i mentioned briefly in my last ask about sub!taesan how he would be bratty in the beginning before fully submitting to you, so i’m going to take this as an opportunity to expand on that! i totally agree with you saying he’s a brat who would have to be forced to being a sub for you. he just isn’t as nice at playing along, letting his ego get in the way of telling you that he really does like being dominated by you. in the instance that taesan would be a dom before you force him into submission, he would be pleasantly surprised when he notices you taking on certain dom traits he has, like telling him what position to get in, whispering in his ears about how he’s going to obey and be good to you, etc. despite him being so bratty, he still listens to what you tell him to do (although he would still be talking to you otherwise). to get him to submit, you would use his own belt you take off to restrain his hands, pulling his bottoms low enough to reveal his hard cock. no matter what he told you about not being submissive, his leaking dick proved otherwise.

naturally, a handjob would follow while you spit harsh words at him being such a brat. a brat who can’t listen properly. a brat who’s talking too much for a leaking cock. a brat who can’t be a good slut for mommy. “come on. call me mommy.” he’d be so against it, continuous no-s spilling out of his throat as you tugged at the skin of his length. whenever he would get close, you’d have to stop moving your hands, still urging him to comply. but he’d also not give up until the very end. his body would be shaking and dick twitching in your hands as he can’t hold in his release anymore, a choked out mommy please being said before he’s coming all over your hands. he could’ve easily just cum without saying so, but his need to submit was stronger than his resolution to be a brat. but maybe next time he’d rather not comply, looking forward to what punishment his mommy will give him <3

[aciddrattboyy]

I Mυʂƚ Mαƙҽ Yσυ ƚԋҽ Pҽɾϝҽƈƚ Mσɾɳιɳɠ

┆ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ - "you have a hard time accepting help, your boyfriend toge is nothing if not patient."

ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛꜱ: ★ Starring: Toge I. x Gn! Reader ★ Run Time: 1.4k ★ Genre/Warnings: [Rated R: Drama/Comfort] not much tbh, mentions of injuries/blood, comfort, angst, i skimmed thru quickly and im pretty sure its gender neutral, toge uses sign language ★ older work !!

▶▶

it was late- way past midnight. yet inumaki was still awake, pacing around the common room of jujutsu tech. you hadn’t come back yet. having been sent on a mission earlier this evening you should have been back already. 

it’s not that he thought you weren’t capable of taking care of yourself. he knew you were more than capable of that. but it was already so late and you should be back. inumaki let out a groan of frustration, combing a hand through his hair as he stopped his pacing. 

realizing that staying here would eat him alive until you got back, he decided he would go take a stroll outside. with hopes that the cold air would distract him enough, he quietly walked down the halls. it was quiet, typical for the school this late at night, and dark as well. but one light caught his eye.

the door to the clinic shoko usually worked in was open just barely enough that the sliver out light that came spilling out was enough for inumaki to notice. his eyes widened as he thought of the worse, speed walking towards the door, 

“ah- shit-,” a hiss came from behind the door, following a long string of curses that inumaki immediately recognized to be coming from your mouth. with a shaky hand he pushed the door open, walking inside with his heart beating in his ears. 

there you were, sitting on top a stool as you tried to give yourself stitches. you were biting down hard on the collar of your shirt as you tried to get the needle through with trembling hands. inumaki’s eyes only seemed to bug out even more at the state you were in. there was a dark spot on the side of your shirt that was only getting darker. dried blood under your nose and on your lips. your legs were shaking sporadically and he could see tears forming against your lashes. the gash you were trying to stich up wasn’t too big, but it hurt like hell and you knew it would need to be closed manually. 

when you finally noticed inumaki you couldn’t bring yourself to move your now pounding head to look at him. you were also hoping he would leave, not really wanting him nor anyone you know to see you in such a state of what you thought was pure weakness. 

but inumaki either didn’t get the hint, or didn’t care. circling around to look at you head on you saw his eyes plead with yours. you were always so good at understanding him just by his expressions. and while inumaki was always grateful for that, you in this moment hated it, now feeling like you could physically see the unwanted pity he felt for you. 

he hovered over you for a while, not entirely sure what to do. but when your hand spasmed, causing you to cry out, it was like his instincts took over and he immediately grabbed your wrist. he held onto it tightly and it took several moments for you to even muster the strength to move your head to look at him. 

you felt embarrassed- weak and inumaki trying to help was only making you feel worse, no matter how irrational it was. you glared at him, tugging your hand away from him. 

“you cant just give yourself stitches,” his face was full of concern as he moved his hands to communicate with you. but you ignored it, reading your hand again to try once more. but he stopped you again,  swiftly taking the needle from you and throwing it on the tray by your side that was already filled with other bloody needles from your other attempts at stitching yourself up. 

“leave me alone,” you scoffed, reaching out for the tray. inumaki was quicker than you, snatching the tray off the table and walking it to a counter while he shot you a look. “oh fuck off,” you groaned loudly, staring daggers into him while he set the tray aside. despite the rudeness on your part, his expression stayed gentle as he walked back over to you. 

“you should call shoko,”

“no i should not,” your response was quick and your voice was defensive. “i’m not calling shoko at almost two in the morning,” although inumaki didn’t think it was the best idea, he nodded, having easily been able to tell what type of state you were in right now. he reached for a roll of gauze, getting ready to wrap it around the gash on your arm. “don’t touch me-,” you snapped, causing inumaki to jump slightly at your tone. “i can do it myself,” you mumbled, snatching the gauze from him with a weak arm. 

you clenched your jaw as you began to wrap your wound, feeling inumaki’s eyes on you the entire time. you tried not to let the events that unfolded a mere hour ago plague your mind. the horror and death you witnessed this night being the worse you’ve ever seen. but you couldn’t cry. you had to be strong. all of your other peers have seen and done so much and they are able to hold it together. so you needed to do the same. you felt a tap on your shoulder and jumped. the sudden movement causing tears you didnt even know were forming to fall down your cheeks. 

“y/n what’s going on? what happened? what else hurts?” inumaki was frantic while signing, frustration bubbling in his chest at the fact that he couldn’t just speak. his rapid fire of questions alongside your crying started to overwhelm you. 

“stop-,” your voice was harsh, shaking your head as you hastily finished tying the gauze before hurriedly trying to hop off the stool. “just fucking stop and leave me alone- i dont want your pity,” you stood on shaky legs as you tried to wobble out of the clinic, the urge to hide away practically consuming you at this point. inumaki could feel his eyebrows pinching together as he watched you stand on trembling legs. he felt himself hurting for you and wanting to help you anyway he could.

“you can’t walk,” he let out a frustrated sigh as you ignored him and tried to take another step forward. your knees almost instantly buckled under you, and within a few moments inumaki was holding you securely to his side with your arm strung over his shoulders. in this moment you wanted nothing to scream and cry and push him away. but when you felt his arm around you and saw the patient look on his face, you felt yourself started to cry once more. 

inumaki was quick to bring your head to his chest. cradling your head against him, he kept his other arm around your waist, holding you close to him as sobs wracked through your body. you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt as he tried to sooth you with soft hums. 

at some point the two of sank to the floor as you desperately clung on to inumaki. your mind felt blank as you let out all of your bottled up feelings in the form of tears. he smoothed his hand over your hair, rocking the two of you slowly. eventually your crying stopped and you let go of your vice grip on his shirt. your sniffling was quiet as you pushed back against him. you kept your eyes on the ground as he helped you stand back up.

“i need to go lay down, i’ll make it on my own,” your voice was hoarse as you tried to walk off on your own, already feeling more embarrassment and shame than you even thought was possible. you felt inumaki’s hand tighten on your waist in opposal but you shook your head. “inumaki let me go i’ll be fine,” he looked at you with desperation and concern in his eyes as he reluctantly let go. 

“you could barely even walk to the door,”  he was quick to step in front of you, blocking off the door and not letting you try to walk the halls to your dorm room.

“inumaki let me go-,” he shook his head vehemently, already moving his hands to try to reason with you. “inumaki please just leave me the fuck alone i dont want your help-” you shouted at him, your voice cracking slightly at the end. you felt bad when you saw inumaki’s face dropped but as soon as he moved out of the way you were stumbling out. 

he watched you walk out, eyes glassing over while he tried to figure out what he was doing wrong. why wouldn’t you let him help you. 

inumaki blinked rapidly, trying to keep himself from crying as he walked you disappear down the hall. then with a final sigh he stalked back off to his room, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep while knowing the state you were in.

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3 ʟᴏʙʙʏ ﹕ꜰɪʟᴍᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

[noihavenosanitythanksforasking]

so this is based on my ramble in the byler discord but im gonna try and compress it into something readable n shit

So in the recent panel with my king Finn Wolfhard, my boy dropped a hint. A very important hint.

"The differences? Mike's a lot more brave than me. I don't think I'd be out there in a different dimension trying to save my friend and be in gunfights and stuff like that. Yeah he's way more brave than I could ever be."

A different dimension??

So Mike is going to the UD in S5. Im very unsurprised and im sure you are as well but lets fuckin talk about it bc holy fuck.

So I know this is the byler community but listen to me when i say, hold my hand and look me in the eyes when i say, I highly doubt that this friend Finn is talking about is Will. ESPECIALLY if byler is canon. Finn is very media trained and you can read legit anything he has ever said about the show and know how good he is about keeping secrets. If this friend was will we wouldn't have mentioned it. It's too close to the danger zone. He would have said something like 'i dont think i'd be out there fighting monsters and risking my life' or something like that. Which is much more vague and can apply to all seasons.

My theory is that this friend is max. CALL ME CRAZY. it could be anyone and I dont have exact reasoning on why its Max other than the fact that shes the only friend actively in danger rn and i adore madwheeler friendship with my heart and soul. But imo its def not Will and its not El.

Now if you go through the main characters there are only (if my memory is correct) 3 characters who havent been to the UD yet.

Lucas, Jonathan and Mike.

Other Characters:

El- Season 1 during the school battle (possibly sooner in the lab idk)

Will- all of s1 duh

dustin- season 4 with eddie

max - season 4 when she was vecna'd

nancy- season 1 in the forest or in s4 with robin and steve to kill vecna

steve- watergate and with nancy and robin

robin - season 4 with nancy and steve

hopper- im p sure hes been more than once but season 1 to find will

joyce- same thing i think shes been more than once but to find will in s1

So Lucas, Jonathan and Mike.

What do these 3 characters all have in common.

They are all a part of one of the main relationships that had issues in season 4. And what are these problems? Lets assess.

Jonathan is stressed because he doesnt want to go to the same school as nancy. He wants to tell her but he knows that she'll give up what she wants to be with him. He doesnt want to hold her back. Nancy feels shut out and afraid that Jonathan doesnt love her anymore. She wants to be together but she doesnt want to put Jonathan in a situation where he has to choose something over something else. They are having issues communicating.

Lucas is stressed about max because he wants to be there for her. Max is shutting him out due to the fact that she feels unworthy of his love or because she is scared of getting hurt and attached to someone. Lucas is hurt because he feels max doesn't trust him. They are having issues communicating.

Mike is stressed about about two people. El and Will. And for this brief moment we're going to look at this in a non byler pov. Mike is stressed about El because he doesn't know what she wants. He wants them to be happy but they aren't and he's not sure how to fix that. He also doesnt ask. Communication issue. Mike is stressed about Will because they aren't talking the way they used too. They dont tell each other anything anymore. They've drifted and Mike doesn't know what's going on anymore. Communication issue.

Interesting.

Thoughout the series the UD has been used as a symbol of all the hard things. Depending on what theories you believe (*cough* lonnie *cough*) this can have more or less meaning but lets assess how going to the UD has affected two of these relationships so far.

Jancy-

Jancy in season one was very tense. they were not friends for a good part of the season. They had constant issues with each other and fought a lot. Then barb goes missing. Will goes missing. They go to the forest in an attempt to figure it out. And Nancy ends up in the UD. Her going into the UD and making it out alive is the catalyst for her and Jonathan to get past their differences, to see each other for who they are and to put their pride aside enough to work together and appreciate the other as a fellow person.

Lumax-

Lumax had a lot of issues with communication and not being able to understand each other in the beginning of s4. They couldn't see eye to eye no matter what lucas did and max was very shut out. Then Max get's vecna'd and comes back. And then lumax finds the strength to communicate for the first time in the season, to see where the other is coming from and allow the other to be there for them.

So what does this mean for Mike. Well, both nancy and max had something that they we're struggling to overcome. A fear that they couldn't escape. Nancy's was barb and Max's was billy. Jonathan and lucas both have something they are afraid to express. Jonathan's is that he wants something diff than nancy and Lucas is that he wants to be there for her but doesnt want to intrude. All of these characters were pushed to solving these issues because of the Upside down (well jancy's recent issue hasn't been solved yet but ykwim).

Mike is going to go to the UD. Which is going to push him into a state of giving in on holding back his feelings. He's going to have to overcome something

El wants to be together, to be happy.

Will is afraid of his feelings, afraid of letting himself want what he wants and being hurt. He feels unworthy of love.

And Mike doesnt want what El wants. Mike loves Will but he is afraid of intruding.

So anyways thats why mike going to the UD means internalized homophobia thanks for coming to my ted talk i'd love to hear yalls ideas :D