#into this hell?! like what? i hate it here goddammit

[tardis--dreams]

Casually tearing up to the line 'we dragged ourselves through hell and we'll be dammed if we go back' on my way to class. As one does on a regular monday morning

[segueintoromanticism]

what is up with all the hate Ishan gets??

Even if you are a hater, which I obviously don't support, apne account pe hate karo na usko. Why are you commenting everywhere and picking up fights with the handful of people who do support him and say anything barely nice about him?

The amount of hatred for some players and blind support for others is hypocrisy at its finest.

Like put all the blame on a young player when none of your players have played consistently this season?? Fucking morons!!! No matter what's the outcome of the match, or whoever plays bad, how bad the team is performing, galti Ishan ki hai???? Amazing!

Has no other player ever been out of form or played badly ever?

Funniest bit? Calling him overhyped. Show me the hype, man!! I would like to see it too. None of the senior players support him, commentators don't appreciate him even when he plays well, gets mocked for taking a fucking break for his MENTAL HEALTH!!!

All he has received is hate and unkindness.

But then again, what can you expect for the Indian crowd...

[ratislatis]

tapas' 1500 minimum chapter word count for the contest is singlehandedly destroying my spirit where it stands

[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 4

Shoutout to @bloomingconflagration for the title!!! And a HUGE thank you to everyone who left comments or gave suggestions!! I love you all you amazing, silly humans <3 <3 

There comes a time during a long work shift were your average overworked and underpaid employee starts to think they’re hallucinating. 

In Gareth’s case, it was when Steve Harrington walked through the doors of Palace Arcade, making a beeline right for him. 

“Gareth?” Steve asked, like he was the one out of place. “What are you doing here?” 

As if people just randomly stood behind the counter of retail and entertainment spaces with a nametag on. 

You know, for fun.

With a great deal of restraint, Gareth managed to hold the sass back, instead opting for a far more polite; ‘I work here, Harrington. What are you doing here?” 

Because no matter how much Hellfire had adopted Steve into its fold, Gareth could just not see the guy choosing to spend his free time at the local arcade. 

Not of his own free will, anyway. 

“Pick up duty.” Steve said, proving him right not even a second later. 

“Of what?” Gareth asked, puzzled, right before Steve’s name was shouted in stereo.

A miniature stampede took place as several children proceeded to swarm him like oversized puppies, most of them trying to talk at once. 

“One at a time, we talked about this!” Steve barked, loud enough to be heard over the commotion. “You’re giving me and Gareth here a headache!” 

He waved his hands in a “calm down” gesture, shaking his head and looking at Gareth in exasperation. “Probably giving the people in the video store next door one too, lord.”  

“Wait.” A curly-haired kid said, looking between the two older teens like he was watching the laws of the universe rewrite themselves in front of him. “You know Gary? How?”

“We are not close enough for you to call me Gary.” Gareth said dryly, for what felt like the fifteenth time that day. 

This was a regular battle between him and the kids who haunted the arcade.

(One had overheard Grant call him Gary the last time he was in, and ever since, every single child that graced this fine establishment with Cheeto-dusted fingers and candy-induced sugar rushes had decided to replace his actual name with his nickname.

The fact it clearly frustrated him only egged them on. )

“We go to school together Dustin,” Steve said, as if he were talking to someone particularly dense. 

“Yeah? You go to school with lots of people. You bitch about most of them.” Dustin fired back.”Plus Gary’s a total nerd. I bet you call him names.” 

"Hey, language!" 

Gareth’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at the little fucker. He was definitely going to remember Dustin (and equally going to watch and see what arcade games the younger teen played-- and top the score chart of every single fucking one.

He might be a nerd but he wasn’t gonna take that shit from a middle schooler.) 

“Hate to break it to you brats, but your babysitter here just joined our D&D club.” Gareth replied, if only to finally one-up the little bastards. “Our DM is building him a character as we speak.” 

(Which wasn't even a lie. Eddie was building a character for Steve. The guy just refused to give any input on grounds that he "wasn't going to play anyways." )

Abrupt and sudden silence, as several stunned faces stared at him. 

“Oh goddammit.” Harrington cursed, as the entire herd of children turned on him in unison like some kind of hivemind horror monster. 

“You joined the D&D club,” Dustin said slowly, outraged. “And you let them make you a character sheet, but you won’t play with us!?” 

“What the hell Steve!” The sporty-looking one whined, clearly hurt. “You won’t sit in on our games! You said they were lame!” 

“They are lame.” Steve defended immediately, pushing at sporty-kids head. It was fond though, the kind of gentle shove an elder brother gave to a younger one. It caused the kid's camo banana to fall into his eyes, which he adjusted quickly with a grumble. “Turns out the high school version’s cooler.” 

“He’s lying.” That from the bitchy one, whose arms were crossed over his chest, a glare on his face. “Steve probably paid Gary to say that” 

Gareth had seen that exact same stance on Steve at lunch that day, and wondered if the little asshole knew who he was copying when he did it. 

“Who cares about D&D?” This from the redhead, standing with another girl giggling in her ear. “I’m just amazed Steve has friends.” 

“Really Mayfield?” Steve said, looking almost betrayed. As if he thought she was going to be the one to defend him in this weird little showdown.

The girl leaning on her giggled harder, making Mayfield grin (even if she tried to hide it.)  She whispered something, which the redhead outright laughed at before repeating; “Adult friends even!” 

“Okay.” Steve said, clearly cutting the kids off before they could embarrass him further. “Thank you, unwanted peanut gallery, for all of that lovely commentary. Now go back to playing the games you little shits robbed me of all my quarters for, or we’re leaving.” 

Henderson’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were here to pick us up?” 

“Oh I’m sorry, did Jonathan magically appear behind me in the last five seconds?” Steve turned around pretending to search the parking lot through the windows. “No? Then I guess we’re still waiting. Unless you, Lucas and Max want to leave first.” 

“You’re such an ass.” Dustin huffed, rolling his eyes. “Why aren’t you waiting in the car anyway?” 

“It’s raining, it’s cold, and I thought I’d come in to say hi to my friend.” Steve replied, so quickly it took Gareth a moment to realize what Steve referred to him as. 

He'd gotten the friend title before Eddie. 

His best friend was going to fucking freak. 

“Are you done drilling me or are you going to let Max kick your ass at DigDug again?” 

“Shit!” Henderson cursed, spinning to intercept the redhead as she bent to put a coin in said arcade machine. “Max, you said you’d let me keep my leaderboard score today! Max!” 

“I know you said you watched kids, but this wasn’t exactly what I was imagining.” Gareth said, slumping against the counter.  

(He'd been thinking of Steve watching much younger kids for one, and two, he was starting to get the idea the babysitter thing was used as an insult. 

Gareth knew a big brother vibe when he saw it.) 

Steve gave him a tired look. “Me neither man. Me neither.”

 Then; “You fucking owe me for that D&D comment, they’re never going to shut up about it now.”

Gareth winced. “Sorry. I was trying to help.” 

Steve blew out a breath. “I know. I appreciate the attempt.” 

Which was better than Steve bitching at him for it, not that he’d really ever done that to Gareth. 

The two of them hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to be playful like that with each other, though they had occasionally jumped in on opposing sides to arguments Eddie caused. Gareth figured they’d get there in time, but even with all the progress Steve made, he still had more off days than on. 

It was a fragile line to walk with him. Especially when there wasn’t a single member of Hellfire who wanted to ruin the progress they made. 

(Even if half of them would never admit to it.) 

“Steve?” A voice interrupted, quiet in a way that contrasted directly with how loud the rest of the brat pack was. 

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand as if to starve off a headache. 

“Yes, Baby Byers?” He asked after a long, painful pause, turning to look at the saddest looking kid in the bunch. 

“Is there actually a D&D club at the high school?” 

The kid looked at Steve like he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to hear the answer, but was hopeful for the outcome he wanted anyway. 

It was the kind of thing that pulled even on Gareth’s heartstrings, and he was almost immune to anything involving giant, sad eyes after a solid year of working at the arcade. 

(Never mind Eddie’s own puppy dog looks.)

Steve’s voice gentled, in a way Gareth had never quite heard him use before. “There is. You’d love it, it’s called Hellfire. I’m sure it’ll still be there next year when you come in as a freshman.” 

He nudged him with his shoulder playfully, smiling when the younger boy perked up. “If you’re nice, Garebear here might even put in a good word for you.” 

“Garebear?” Max repeated with a burst of laughter, appearing behind Steve like a fucking ghost. “Oh my god.” 

“No.” Gareth said, bolting upright from his slouch as he stared at her in horror. “Do not call me that.” 

“Sure thing, Garebear.” She outright cackled, as Steve sent him a wide-eyed, apologetic face. 

“What did you just call Gary?” The sporty one--Lucas, asked, a wide grin overtaking his face. 

“I swear to God.” Gareth threatened, as Steve took another dramatic look over his shoulder. 

“Hey look Jonathan’s here!” He yelled, jerking a thumb over his shoulder as he started quickly walking backwards. “Come on, dipshits, we're leaving!” 

“Bye Garebear!” Lucas and Max sang together, following after him. 

“Harrington!” Gareth howled, as Steve mouthed ‘Sorry’ over his shoulder, all but bolting out the door. 

“I like Garebear a lot better than Gary.” Another, random child informed him with a grin as he sauntered past, arcade tickets in hand. 

Steve Harrington, Gareth decided, was a dead man. 

Not even Eddie’s fucking crush on the guy could save him now. 

xXx

“Did you know Harrington has a literal pack of kids he watches?” Gareth asked a few hours later, messing with his drum kit as he set up for band practice. "He even drives them around." 

More than that though--he’d seemed almost normal around them. That was the most Gareth had seen the guy banter or act relaxed since Eddie had dragged him over. 

“He’s mentioned it multiple times.” Grant replied, tuning his bass. “You have ears Gareth, use them.” 

“Gareth? Listen?” Jeff teased as he dragged an amp into the garage. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.” 

"Oh screw you guys.” Gareth growled, winging a drumstick toward his friends for the insult.

Grant, long used to Gareth's tantrums (and Eddie's dramatics)  didn't look up from his bass.

Not even when the drumstick hit the wall with a bang!-- allll the way near the opposite end of the couch, entirely opposite of either him or Jeff. 

"As usual, your aim is dead on." Jeff appraised sarcastically. 

"Like I'd ever actually hit you." Gareth grumbled with a pout. "I was gonna say the kids are older than I expected."

He reached down, blindly fishing for another drumstick from the bucket of them next to his kit. 

He came up empty. 

"Hey Grantman." Gareth asked, tone changing to something mildly embarrassed. "Could I uh, could I get the drumstick back?" 

He got a flat stare back. "No." 

"What did I do to get stuck with such dramatic friends?" Jeff joked as he began moving all the amps he’d pulled in back into their usual places. 

They hadn't had time to unload anything other than the drums after their last show and the regret was real. 

"Eddie’s been standing on tables since seventh grade, you knew what you were getting into." Gareth fired back, making grabby hands for his drumstick. 

"And you never grew out of being that dorky middle schooler who snuck into Hellfire games and screamed we were all going to die every time anyone made a bad play." Jeff shot back. "Yet here I am, once again wondering if I should just permanently confiscate Eddie's snacks, your drumsticks, and now Harrington's fricken spatula." 

"One year. I am one year younger than you and you act like it's an entire century!" Gareth muttered, as Grant relented and leaned over to fetch said drumstick. 

"We all know Eddie chucks food at people, but what'd Steve do with a spatula?"  Grant asked as he tossed it back to Gareth.

He missed and nearly took out a cymbal in the process. 

"He had a snit while we were making chocolate roulade cause it wouldn’t roll right. Flung the spatula around so much it splattered whip cream on his ceiling." Jeff shook his head as he finished hooking an amp up to his guitar. "I had to rescue it from him." 

"His ceiling?" Gareth said in disbelief. "Wait, you were in Harrington’s kitchen?" 

"Yeah?" Jeff looked up to find his friends staring at him. 

Grant blinked. "The fuck?" 

“Can we just play?” Jeff complained, just as embarrassed as Gareth had been.

“No.” Gareth said, retrieved drumstick nearly falling from his hands in shock. “You don’t get to casually drop that you went to Harrington’s house to help him bake and then try to get us to play right after!” 

Jeff, who had done exactly that, blushed, skin darkening as he fiddled with his guitar.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” He said finally with a shrug, as if this was something he did all the time and not the groundbreaking revelation that it was.

“Did you meet his parents?” Grant said, sitting up from the couch. “What did his house look like?”

Jeff finally gave up the pretense of playing his instrument.

“I didn't, and it was kinda sad, actually.” He said, as if he didn’t live for this kind of shit. 

Gareth knew better than anyone how much of a fricken gossip Jeff could be. 

“His house was enormous. I only saw the first floor, and his kitchen is huge.” He set his hands apart at a good distance, showcasing just how large “huge” was, before continuing. 

“But it was weird. It was like a model home. No pictures on the walls, no art, no personality to the place at all.” 

“What are we talking about?” Eddie asked, finally returning to Gareth’s garage from where he’d been gathering up all the wires they’d thrown haphazardly into his van. 

“Jeff went to Harrington’s house.” Grant and Gareth tattled as one. 

“To help bake stuff for this Friday!” Jeff defended, the blush creeping back onto his face. “I was curious about his chocolate roulade recipe and he invited me over!” 

“When was this?” Eddie asked, staring at Jeff like he’d grown a second head. 

Or more likely, Gareth knew, in jealousy. But he wasn’t going to call Eddie out on that just yet. 

“Yesterday. We got to talking about it in the parking lot after school.” Jeff said with an embarrassed shrug. “He said he wasn’t the best at explaining how to do things and that he’d rather show me instead.” 

“Kinky.” Grant deadpanned, making Jeff sputter. 

“You sure you didn’t see his bedroom, Jeff? It’s okay if you fell for the ‘wanna see my music collection’ line. We won’t judge you.” Gareth waggled his eyebrows, ducking with a laugh when Jeff went to whack him. 

“Shut up, we just made the chocolate roulade!” Jeff’s ears were red now, and huh, maybe Eddie wasn’t the only person with a crush.  

“Guys.” Eddie reprimanded, tone warning. 

“Sorry Eds, you know we don’t mean it.” Gareth soothed. Of course, his best friend's anger was less about the gay comments or Steve’s reputation as Hawkin’s man whore than it was about Steve fucking Jeff (and not Eddie) but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated if he pointed that out either. 

Eddie didn’t respond, eyes already back on Jeff. "Details, Jeffery, give us the details!"  

He dropped onto the couch, flapping his hands at Jeff in his version of a "sit down" gesture. 

Jeff sighed, but repeated what he'd just said for Eddie as he took a seat on the edge of an amp, placing his guitar down gently. 

 "I think Wayne was right. I don't think anyone else lives there but Steve. Not full-time anyway." He finished. 

Which sounded like the best fucking thing ever until Gareth thought about it for more than two seconds. 

Tried to imagine what his life would be like if his parents and siblings were gone. Not for a day, or even a weekend, but always. 

How silent his normally loud house would be. 

Thought instantly that he'd be inviting Eddie, his friends, and hell, l even Wayne, over as often as they could handle. 

"The way he looked when I showed up, and how quiet he got when I left I just…" Jeff fiddled with his guitar’s strap. "I think he's lonely." 

The four of them sat in silence for a long moment as they digested that. 

“Hargrove kicked his ass right? And Byers?” Grant said finally, breaking the silence ad he stared up at the ceiling. 

“Old news.” Eddie replied absently, jiggling his leg.

“You think his parents were around for that?” Grant continued, slowly.

No one answered outside of Eddie's leg loudly jiggling faster. 

 "Did you see the kids hug him or anything?"

"They're like thirteen. I seriously doubt they're pestering Steve for hugs." Gareth answered flatly.  

 "So he got his ass kicked, his parents are gone, he was supposed involved in that whole has leak thing…" Grant trailed off with an air of someone who expected the end of his sentence to be obvious. 

“You’re doing that thing again where you think what you’re saying is obvious and its fucking not.” Eddie grumped. "Just spit it out." 

His friend's head finally tipped back down from the ceiling, to face the rest of them. “Maybe the flinching is because no one ever touches him anymore unless it’s to kick his ass.” 

“Oh.” Eddie blinked, body going rigid. “Oh shit.” 

“That…would make sense. A lot of sense.” Jeff said slowly. 

Grant put on a face that read “Duh” loud and clear. 

“So what do we do about it?" Gareth asked after a moment. 

"Touch him, obviously." Grant replied, like he couldn't believe the drummer was even asking.

Gareth and Eddie shared a look while Eddie rolled his eyes.  

"The guy almost fell down the stairs last time I tried that." Gareth pointed out. 

Never mind any other time Steve got weird over the lightest of touches. Eddie couldn't even clap the guy on the shoulder without getting major side-eye. 

"No."  Eddie cut in, sitting up suddenly. His eyes had gone bright, "We're going to trick him into it." 

"We're going to trick Harrington into being okay with, what? Shoulder pats?"  Gareth echoed, like Eddie might hear himself if his words were repeated back to him. “You realize how stupid that sounds right?" 

"Shut up, listen. It's like getting a stray to trust you. You just gotta be calm and so obvious about it that they get confused and let it happen." Eddie had begun practically vibrating, causing his friends to trade uneasy glances. 

They knew that look. Eddie only got it when he thought up a plan that was going to cause problems. 

"Eddie, that makes zero sense." Jeff told him.

Gareth just shook his head, because only Eddie Munson could compare Hawkins golden boy with a fucking stray animal. 

Even if the guy kinda acted like one sometimes. 

"I just need an opening." Eddie continued, the little hamster wheel spinning in his head so fast the rest of the band could almost hear it. 

If Gareth had been told two months ago he was going to be sitting in his garage, discussing the best way to acclimate Steve Harrington to casual touch, he’d have actually smacked whatever idiot dared spew such nonsense with his drumsticks. 

"I did tell tell the kids today you were making him a D&D character." He said, before his best friend could truly go off on some half cocked plot. 

Eddie lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Gary, I could kiss you."

Gareth made a face. "Please don't."

He clapped hard before springing to his feet. "Huddle up boys, I've got a plan." 

"God help us all." Jeff muttered. 

(He huddled up anyway, any thoughts of playing guitar that night fully forgotten.) 

Bonus: 

"Why don't you just get high and watch a movie with Steve? You're a fucking cling-on when you're high." Gareth complained the next morning, when Eddie swung by to pick him up for school. 

Mostly because the plan Eddie had come up with was ridiculous.

 Eddie took both hands off the wheel, pressing them against his chest in mock offense while he stared at Gareth and not at the street. “That would be taking advantage of him and I, as a gentleman, would never." He gasped, dramatically. 

In his normal voice, he added: "Plus it doesn't count." 

“Eyes on the road!” Gareth yelped, swatting an arm. “And you know I didn’t mean it like that. People relax more when they're high and maybe Steve needs something like that as an excuse to allow it. Hell he doesn’t even need to be high, just you.”

Which Gareth personally thought was a very insightful thing to say, so of course he had to ruin it with; “or whatever.” 

"Do you recall how you kissed Jeff on the cheek when you were high and then spent the entire next month swearing up and down that you weren't attracted to men last summer?" 

"That was different. I was discovering myself." 

Eddie outright cackled. "Discovering yourself? What self help book did you pick that gem out of?"

"I was quoting you, you moron!" Gareth sputtered. 

"If I said anything like that then I was definitely high and it just proves my point. Steve would just be uncomfortable."Eddie stuck his tongue out. "So there." 

"Fine." Gareth sighed. "If we ever get high with Harrington, I'll sit in his lap."

Eddie's eye twitched. "No you will not."

Thrilled to have something to tease the elder metalhead about, a smile graced Gareth's face. "In fact, I'm calling dibs." 

"You can't call dibs on a lap! And besides, you don't even like him like that!" 

"So?" Gareth retorted. "It's a nice lap, looks comfortable. You don't want it, so I'll take it."

Eddie grit his teeth, grasping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white. 

"I know what you're doing Gary. This is some bullshit reverse psychology shit and I will not be falling for it." 

"Oh contraire, this is sibling bullshit, Munson. You want it, so I want it." Gareth crossed his arms and looked at Eddie smugly. "And unless you do something about it, I'm getting it." 

"I hate you." 

Gareth grinned, delighted. "I know." 

[dynamightsfave]

bakugo katsuki—interviews

bakugo katsuki fucking hates interviews. in every shape and form. public conferences? "i did my fucking job. the building crashed down because the base sucked ass. that's not my fucking fault" one on one interviews? "why the fuck do they have so many damn questions about my methods? let them try and do what i do!" talk shows? "if you're not gonna ask me about my job, i don't know what the hell i’m doing here, my personal life is my goddamn business. also, if i wanted comedy i’d go to the fucking circus, at least the clowns wear their actual uniform instead of shitty suits"

safe to say, dynamight is every interviewer's nightmare. he's a wonderful and attentive person off camera (he’s still an asshole, but a nicer one), but when you start asking him questions and place a camera on his face, the brass defensiveness, one of the things that lingers from his stubborn teenage years, shines through. that and that mouth that curses more than a sailor in their golden years ever has. there's offers to take him of course, being in the top ten heroes ranking of not only japan, but the whole world. he's mostly partnered up in these interviews, so there's someone to lead the talking and answer for him when he doesn't want to give into "the stupidest fucking question he's had the misfortune to hear". 

red riot and shoto are the ones that are usually designated as his babysitters, but other old classmates have appeared onscreen with him as well. even deku, now a teacher, has made special features. but there's never much demand for an individual interview with pro hero dynamight, and if there ever is, bakugo usually rejects them without looking much into it.

which is why, his secretary was very confused when the mention of a last attempt at a talk show made his boss perk up rather than frown instantly. his lip didn’t instantly curl with a groan and his red irises didn’t meet the back of his skull. instead, he curiously eyed the schedule placed in front of him, and gave a curt nod in thanks when he was done. ryu developed a sense of uneasiness that took over his system. surely that was a sign of the end of the world. but he couldn’t really say anything, pinky and chargebolt recommended the interviewer and swore it would go well. maybe they were right? they needed it too, dynamight hadn't appeared on many public events lately. so there's that, now he just had to pray bakugo didn’t fuck it up.

and that brings us to right now, with dynamight taking a seat in front of you and the public’s applause dimming. the tension that fills the air lingers in the audience, and for once, bakugo and his interviewer seem to be completely at ease. ryu can’t help to think to himself that this is yet another sign that the world is about to end, and he wonders if he should call up his family to say a final goodbye. for now, maybe it’s better he focuses on what’s in front of him.

"great explosion murder god dynamight!" you smile at him, as if he was a friend you’re glad to see again, "so glad you could make it!"

you have that magnetism that makes every guest comfortable around you, familiarity being the base of your show. it’s a big part of why it became so popular, the charming host that interacts with their audience and speaks their mind in such an easy way.

katsuki smirks, chest a bit puffed and fingers drumming the armrest.

"sort of didn’t have a goddamn choice, did i?" while his response only makes the people watching tense more, you only chuckle, nodding as if you understood like nobody else.

"we’re our managers’ puppets aren’t we? either way, wonderful to have you," and goddammit, you never sound insincere, "these days it’s hard to have a minute of great explosion murder god dynamight"

"you know what they say, villains don’t rest. and if they don’t rest that just means us heroes have to work twice as hard as them" did he just answer without cursing? oh the world definitely ends today.

bakugo maintains eye contact with you while he lounges on his seat like he owns the place. he’s made hundreds of interviewers and others shrink with that attitude of his, but from the looks of it, you’re not only not one bit bothered by it, but you almost encourage it. your arms flex as you lean in towards him, agreeing with him.

"all right, since i don’t want to waste much of that precious time of yours..." eyes twinkling, you could even say teasing—dare i say flirty—, you tap a small melody onto your notebook with your pen, "let’s dive right in to the questions! promise this won’t be long. first off, i want to solve a doubt i’ve had for some time now"

he arches a brow, accepting the challenge. there’s the same amusement in his eyes that yours have, it sends chills across the room. it’s so weird to see the bakugo katsuki being not mean to someone that isn’t a little kid or a polite fan.

"i’ve said it a couple times now, and i have to admit it’s a bit of a mouthful. “great explosion murder god dynamight”. why that name? how on earth did you come up with it?"

it’s funny. you say it as if it isn’t a mouthful. quite the opposite, it rolls off your tongue like quick, flowing as if it’s escaped a million times, a prayer you know by heart. bakugo rolls his eyes, similar comments follow him practically every day everywhere he goes since he made the name up. he’s built up skin to them, not that they ever bothered him, he’s pretty proud of his hero name. some might say too proud.

"it’s a reflection of everything i am," he winces after a second, "maybe not the murder part."

"i do hear die is one of your favorite words tho"

"yeah well, it’s good to let the emotions out or whatever the hell. i try not to say it as much anymore, people say it’s rude or some shit," his hand makes a fast motion, as if to sweat it off, he really doesn’t give a damn, "anyway, the name’s like that because it had to embody how fucking awesome i am"

"ah, that makes sense," you nod along, not bothered by the curses, "a loud and bright name like your explosions. it does suit you"

at the compliment, the smirk returns to his lips, a small huff with it. he shuffles around to sit higher, now getting an idea of how this interview is going to go. katsuki finds that he doesn’t really mind it, at least the questions are off to a good start. and the host... well let’s just say he likes this one.

"i know, i picked it myself," he states, and you can’t help but laugh at how sure of himself he is. reminds you of a 6-year-old, not a single ounce of doubt in his body about how cool they are.

"would you say it was inspired by something else? maybe a hero you look up to?"

"nah, ‘t was all me," liar.

"i see. a unique name to say the least. but on the topic, is there any hero that you look up to? someone you aspire to be like. other than, i'm sure, best jeanist"

"obviously," he repeats, "but i mean; every kid and their goddamn mother has dreamt of becoming all might, he was n.1 longer than anyone. i’m sort of a basic bitch that way. when i was little i wanted to be like him, so i followed that dream until i made it real. and now i push myself to be as great as he was and more. plus ultra and all that bullshitr"

"wow. sounds like hard work," he grunts in agreement, and you purse your lips, "we all agree all might is a one of the greatest symbols we have, must have been incredible to be able to study under him. you mentioned the school’s motto. can you tell us about that? the ua days?"

katsuki smiles, his eyes drifting away to his hands. you can’t help but think he looks rather handsome, reminiscing his high school.

"in one word: it was fucking insane. he brought a lot of insight about what to expect in the actual field, and how to treat with bystanders—the little motherfuckers—, and he was always pushing us to do our best. he’s the sort of person you just know cares about what he’s doing," he explains, "our homeroom teacher, mr. aizawa was also very much like that, even though he didn’t look it. ua students are lucky when it comes to teachers. but they’re all ungrateful snotty brats"

it’s the first time bakugo katsuki has ever said something nice in public, even if it has some mean side dishes (wouldn’t be something bakugo katsuki said otherwise). at this point, it’s just you two in the room. no lights, no cameras, no audience, not even the questions you’ve jotted down in your notebook. only a conversation between two people. katsuki wonders if it’s a you effect, and he figures it must be, because he’s never as comfortable as he is talking to you. it comes so easy.

you smile, and it takes everything in you to not reach and put your hand on his arm at his words, the reminder of all the people watching in the room and through the cameras a dying reminder in the back of your mind. you like having him here, and you frankly don’t understand why other hosts dread his visits.

"sounds like a wonderful experience. i’ve talked to others from your course and they all speak of it with so much fondness, just like you. even with the hardships you had to endure," you clear your throat, voice dropping to barely a mutter. even the mic strapped to your blouse has trouble picking it up, "but i’m sure you don’t like thinking of them, i know i don’t. so, i know you’ve said all might and eraserhead are big inspirations, but do you have any other people you admire?"

you know you’re pushing your luck. your tone is far too friendly to be considered professional now and he’s not one to be heartfelt on camera. but if you could just get him to confirm what cellophane and shoto said last week... what you just know is the truth, but dynamight is a bit too proud to admit. you can see it in the way he looks away and puffs his cheeks to blow air.

"i mean, obviously, i’m incredibly grateful to best jeanist and edgeshot, they fucking saved my life," his cheeks grow the slightest bit of pink under your intense gaze. he almost chuckles as you nod entranced and edge just a tiny bit closer awaiting for the true answer. he guesses he might as well indulge, so, with a much lower tone, he continues, "and ya know, in class there were others that were pretty good too. not as incredible as i am, but close enough. if i had to pick any, maybe shitty hair and the dumbass deku. i guess"

screw the lights. your smile is blinding. it shines so much bakugo suddenly doesn’t feel like the answer was practically yanked from his throat. this is too much for his rearranged heart.

"that’s funny, they speak pretty highly of you too," you giggle. your eyes clash, and the small smile that forms on his face is instinct, he can’t control it. one, two, three.

"of course they fucking do. they better, else i’ll crush their bodies," he huffs, snapping back to his position before he was gobsmacked by you.

"all right, i’ve just got a couple more questions before we let you go," you get back on track too, despite the heat on the back of your neck, "uhm... oh yeah! well i guess you’ve answered this already, but just in case. you said red riot and deku were people you admired as heroes, i take it they are also the easiest to partner up with? i know pro hero deku is out of commission at the moment, but back when you still worked together"

dynamight actually thinks about this one. he furrows his brows, and his weight shifts on the sofa. he hums as his hand strokes his chin.

"well, it depends on the job. generally, i do like to partner up with them, we understand each other very well, as do everyone form our class. the time we spent training with each other pays off. so yeah, they’re easy to work with. but also, the half ‘n half bastard is quick to respond to what i do, and ponytail is a great strategist when it comes to infiltration or a mission that takes planning. the damn rabbit gets on my nerves a lot, but we make a good team. she should start thinking about retiring though, before she starts dragging me down"

"it’s lovely to hear the heroes of japan are so tight and coordinated. i must say, hearing you praise them is refreshing," your lip gets caught in your teeth in an attempt to stop the growing smirk, but your eyes betray you.

"oi, don’t misinterpret what i’m fucking sayin’. they’re all still pains in my ass, each worse than the last one"

"uh huh... okay, last question. if you weren’t a hero, what would you be?" that takes him aback.

"fuck you mean? i was always gonna be a damn hero. i don’t know. maybe one of those people that handle bombs in the army or some shit like that," he shrugs, but then a beat passes, "a firefighter"

"final answer?" you arch a brow. he grunts an affirmation, "o-kay! well, it’s been a pleasure to have you here, i hope we did not waste much of your time, but you’re free to go now. i appreciate that you didn’t shout"

he chuckles, following your steps as you get up and circle your table to get to him and say goodbye. the audience is clapping for you two, ryu is releasing the breath he’d been holding all throughout the interview, and the camera people are preparing to shut off. you reach him, and just like his smile before, his next actions are pure instinct. even more, they’re almost a routine.

his hand reaches for your waist, and he effortlessly pulls you closer, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. now, in this routine, it’s not common that you tense up. usually, you wrap your arms around him and nuzzle into his chest. you look up to him, eyes wide, and it takes one millisecond for him to realize what he’s done. he curses under his breath, and you laugh.

"welp, there’s that. no more hiding this," the stunned public is so silent they hear your whispers, "see you at home?"

katsuki gives you that low laugh you love, squishes your waist, and nods.

"yeah, see you at home"

ryu dials his family to say his goodbyes as his boss steps off the stage and the audience recovers from the shock. he prays the call gets through before the world suddenly explodes.

luckily, the world doesn’t combust, and he lives to see the heart magazines with your image on their covers and headlines screaming about japan’s favorite talk show’s host and potty mouth’s newly discovered relationship.

[kopilot-pop]

Comfy 18+

(Yunjin x GP! Reader)

Request: oh my- that karina fic was so good. i need you to write a similar fic for clingy yunjin x soft dom reader pls… doesn’t have to be gp reader but i totally liked it in sofa

Warning(s): MDNI, GP! Reader, breeding kink, dirty talk?, daddy kink(there’s like one word for it), etc.

A/N: Hi.. it took like 300 years but here’s a new fic… love y’all (plz dont hate me)

———————————————————————

“I don’t wanna go.”

“I swear to god, if you’re late Chaewon will murder me.”

The blonde girl in your arms seems to pout even more at your words.

Yesterday was Yunjin’s break day and the two of you spent it going on a movie date, drinking at your apartment, and sleeping all cuddled up.

Making her ride you was in there somewhere but the both of you were too drunk to remember.

You woke up at 10 a.m. with Yunjin curled up in your arms... naked (except for your oversized hoodie covering her). It’s now 12 p.m. and your girlfriend is supposed to be at the practice room in an hour. But it seems like Yunjin has no intentions of leaving your apartment - hell, your bed.

“Jen.. you’re really gonna be late…”

She whines as you try to pull her off of your body and clings onto you even tighter than before.

You’ll be lying if her in your arms wasn’t turning you on. Her.. chest.. was touching your side, and you're having a very difficult time not staring at her bare legs.

"Jennn... c'mon.."

Suddenly, she jumps up from your arms and sits on top of your stomach. She looks at you with a smug grin and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"What if... I do this?"

With a swift motion she takes off the hoodie and throws it to her side. She tilts her head at you and bites her lip.

"Do you still want me to leave?"

You let out a loud groan and turn your head back to the pillow underneath you. Yunjin pins you down by grabbing your shoulders. The moment you try to convince her for one last time, she shuts you up with a kiss.

You can feel her pussy on your stomach, and when she slowly grinds back and forth, you can feel it slowly becoming soaked.

Your hands glide up to her nipples, playing with them just so you can see Yunjin blush.

“God, you’re so fucking hot babygirl.”

The moment the petname slips out of your mouth, her confidence seems to immediately disappear. She lets out a quiet whine and stops her movement.

You - having a sudden boost in confidence at her reaction - flip her onto her back, trapping her between your arms. With a yelp, Yunjin clings into your shoulders.

With no more patience, you pull down you sweatpants along with your boxers, and let your painful boner free. It springs out to your stomach, and you can immediately feel your girlfriends fingers touch it.

“God, I still don’t know how you fit that in me.”

With a breathy shake Yunjin aligns your cock to her wet hole and wraps her leg around you to push you in.

You slowly sink into her tight pussy, and groan at the warmth surrounding you.

“Mmf… God I love you…”

Yunjin pulls you into another sloppy kiss, but she suddenly pushes you away when she feels the tip of your cock touch her womb.

“Ah-! W-wait Y/nnnn!”

You start rolling your hips back and forth - trying to be as gentle as possible - but Yunjin always had trouble adjusting to your size no matter how wet she was.

She lets out small whimpers, digging her face into your shoulders, and tightly gripping onto your arms.

“Ah- ah-! I want… I want you to…”

“Hm? What was that? Fuck- Couldn’t hear ya sweetheart.”

“I… ugh! I want you to.. hng… I wanna feel you cum inside me..”

You pause at her request, but after what she said registers into your mind, your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Goddammit- you asked for this.”

Yunjin hiccups at your clouded eyes, and starts to feel excitement when you manhandle her into a different position. She’s practically folded in half, with her legs hooked over your shoulders.

As you pull her in, your dick slams into her core at the same time, causing her to let out a scream.

“F..fuck! Fuck, daddy you’re so deep- angh..! inside me-!”

She lets out short breaths at the same rhythm of you pounding into her. You watch her face go from pain to absolute pleasure as her tongue lolls out and her eyes keep focus on your member ruining her pussy.

The slapping sounds echo through your room, and you can tell that the wetness is embarrassing her when she rolls her head into the sheets.

Having none of that, you grab her face and force her to look into your eyes as you start going faster.

“Ah!! Y/n, Y/n, Y/nnnn…..! Fuck, ugh!! I love youu…”

“I’m.. hah… I’m gonna cum…”

Her teary eyes make it impossible for you to hold yourself in, and as you finally bury yourself as deep as possible, Yunjin’s back arches and she lets out the loudest scream you’ve ever heard (even for her).

You feel her legs lock you inside as you let spurts of cum fill her up. Her spasming walls cause your cock to twitch inside of her - making her let out tiny whimpers.

The two of you let out deep breaths as Yunjin’s arms pull your torso closer for comfort.

“Mmf.. I’m cold…”

“Yeah, well - you’re the on that decided to throw your hoodie across the room.” You let out a breathy laugh.

“It’s technically yours so… can you go get it?”

You give her a playful glare, but the moment you see her smile - as always - you lose.

———————————————————————

a/n: its so weird writing after so long

[symp4nat]

Unexpected Love

clarisse la rue x fem!reader

author's note/summary - enemies to lovers-ish

You heard a noise and you quickly whipped your head around. Camp Half-Blood was playing Capture the Flag today. You were on the blue team. Your eyes were met with Clarisse's harsh ones, as her spear was pointed directly at you. "Where’s your little friend?" She sneered.

You looked her up and down in disgust. "Marissa?" She nodded. For some reason, Clarisse had despised her for the past couple of months, although you didn't understand why.

"Why would I tell you," you questioned. "Why wouldn’t you?” Her face was smug as she lowered her head towards you, so you could see the glint of her spear.

You tilted your head. "And why do you wanna find her? What will you do?"

She scoffed. “To teach her that she can’t be here.” She spoke simply, as if it were common sense.

You laughed bitterly. "You seem jealous of her."

The air seemed to crackle with Clarisse’s annoyance at this point. She had not expected you to be so obstinate. "She's probably... I don't know," you exclaimed.

"Tell me where she is."

You exclaimed protectively, "No!"

She rolled her eyes. She hated that you held your ground like that. "Then I guess you don’t care what happens to you." She looked you straight in the eye and smirked, knowing full well that she could take you in a fight. "And you won’t say anything?"

"What, if I don't tell you, will you hurt me," you questioned.

She seemed to think over that for a moment. "I would be happy to hurt you," she spoke in a low voice. "But I won’t." She was known for her aggression and she wouldn’t mind showing you that side of her.

You clenched your jaw. "As if," you said as you stepped towards her.

Her eyebrows raised; Clarisse was intrigued. "You have guts."

"Yes I do."

"Good." She stepped forward, the spear still pointed at you. "Let’s see how brave you really are."

"Braver than you, coward. I'll stand up for my friends, unlike you," you said, as you stood your ground.

"Coward?" she smirked. "You have to be joking." She had never been called a coward before and though you were clearly trying to make her angry, she was starting to get worked up anyway. "What are you gonna do? Hit me?"

"What're you gonna do, kiss me," you retorted.

She looked like she had been slapped. Clarisse had not been expecting that response at all. She was speechless for a moment, until she laughed. “Touche.”

You clenched your jaw once more. "Drop the spear."

She laughed. Your audacity surprised her and her smirk widened. "Oh, I’ll gladly drop it," she paused, "right into your chest."

"Or you'll lose dessert privileges."

"Dessert privileges?!" She couldn’t help but laugh some more, though she held her ground. "You know, there’s much better ways for a girl like you to get me on your side than dessert privileges."

"Oh yeah? How?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You don't want me to say, do you, mamas?" She grinned and stepped closer to you. "Or I could just tell you in private."

Your breath hitched as she touched your face. But you refused to budge.

She seemed almost amused that you were still standing your ground. She looked into your eyes and smirked, making her lips just brush against yours.

A gentle groan left your lips as her lips brushed yours. "Or... I could just show you..."

"Fuckin' hell, just kiss me, goddammit," you huffed.

Her lips met yours, her hand curling around the back of your neck. Her breath was hot and her lips were soft, but they were firm as she kissed you harder. After pulling back, she looked at you in disbelief. She had expected you to push her away, but you had kissed her back. It had sent a jolt of excitement through her that had taken her over.

Your response shocked her, and her breath was quick and shallow. She was surprised by how much... she liked you.

It was unexpected.

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me, Part 9

Summary: you're losing your grip

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, pinching, oral sex (F and M receiving), face riding, pussy job, creampie (?), mentions of forced tattoo, mentions of branding, D/s dynamics, teasing, exhibition, spanking, pearl play, dry humping, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.8K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*Chris tattoo edit by @nixakimbo

*Dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You give a small moan as the most beautiful sight plays in your subconscious mind. Moaning out loud. Your dream Steve was being so soft, and you hadn’t realized it was something you craved. His lips kissing over your body, and you hate how hard and long holding out on him was going to be. Whimpering out his name, and hoping you never had to wake up.

His touch becomes more harsh, “Steve,” you whine, wishing he would go back to his softer smoother motions. It was too early, and you didn’t want that kind touch.

“Steve! Ow!” Screaming out loud. You wake up to him pinching both your nipples in a vice grip. “What the hell?” You scream as you sit up in bed. Smacking at both his hands until he removes them from your throbbing tits. “That hurt!”

“Unless you let me fuck you, you cannot be making all that fucking noise in your goddamn sleep! Fuck, Dovey. I’m fucking hard again. Can you not suck my cock?”

“No! You,” you look down at your chest, and rub on your bruising tits. “You pinched me!”

“And your naked ass was rubbing on my cock, while you were making those fucking noises. Dove, I can’t stand this. Let me fuck you!”

“No.”

“Please. Dovey, baby, please let your Captain fuck you.”

“Do I have your heart?” You ask, cocking up your eyebrow. Steve’s face tenses up, and you can’t help but smirk. He was avoiding answering. “Then no,” you turn away from him, and lay back down. You are going to go back to sleep, and enjoy the softer him.

“Fucking hell, Dovey. This isn’t even fair!”

“You branded my neck without my consent. Now you can wait on my cunt with my consent,” Steve growls, jumping out of the bed, and starts stomping to the bathroom. “Where are you going?”

“To fuck my fist again!”

“Steve!”

“No!” He spins on his heels, pointing at you. “Don’t you dare use your whiney voice. I can’t stand this. I can’t function properly. Because your fine ass sleeps in the bed every fucking night naked. And then I wake up to you doing that thing with your ass on me, and making those fucking noises, and it isn’t fair. Fine, I branded you, so brand me.”

You stare at him, your eyes unblinking, but shake your head no. “Fuck yes. Brand me, and then you’ll get over this bullshit.”

“You think this is the only thing I’m pissed off about?”

“Well, goddammit, Dove, you sure the fuck like to bring it up all the fucking time!”

“You didn’t give me a fucking choice, Steven. You held me down while I begged you not to do it. So…”

“I’ll let you do it,” wrapping your arms around you, your eyes start to well up with tears. He didn’t get it. “Yes, baby, I’ll let you choose the method, and what you want. I know I’m tattooed pretty much everywhere, but — fuck,” he whispers, moving closer to you, and wrapping you in a tight embrace.

“Dovey, baby, please. I want us to move past this. Just tell me what it is I need to do, and I will do it.”

“You will do anything just to fuck me though.”

“I’ll do anything to make you mine. Whatever you want,” he is damn near pouting like a child. Begging for anything that would make you give up the one thing that was keeping you in control.

“I want you to give me your…”

“I can’t, so don’t ask me. I want to protect you. I want for you to be my queen, but you won’t let me,” sniffling, you lean back, and stare into his crystal blue eyes. You heard him, but aren’t sure if you believe him.

“But you keep me here in this cabin, or at school.”

Gulping, Steve nods his head. His hands, caress your back, and you finally slow down enough to feel his massive and hard cock, pressing into your stomach. “It’s done. Whatever. And I still want you to brand me.”

“Steve?” He hums, acknowledging you, and a sinful smile pulls up your mouth. “I want to try something.”

“Whatever you want, Dovey.”

“Take off your underwear and lay on the bed,” his tongue swipes over his lips before he brings his bottom lip into his mouth. Biting on the puffy pillow, “Please? Or we could watch each other get off.”

“As hot as that sounds, I am curious what you have in mind,” his arms drop from around your body, and he steps back. Letting your eyes wander over his chiseled and decorated body before he pulls down his boxers. His angry cock bounces up, and you stare at the beads of precum leaking down his member. Coating his piercing, and you sigh knowing that cock is yours.

“Hey, Clarence,” you giggle, nodding to the bed.

“I really hate the name you gave him.”

“Clarence is my friend. Aren’t you buddy?”

“Until Clarence destroys you for other men,” like you are ever going to know. If Steve has it his way he is going to murder anyone that so much as looks at you like they want to fuck you. If he could read minds, he’d kill any man that dared to have an illicit thought about you.

“Steve, get on the damn bed,” rolling his eyes, he clamors onto the mattress, stretching his arms over his head as he watches your naked body. “I saw this on a video once.”

“Porn is not real sex, Dovey.”

“And we’re not having sex. Shut up, and lay there,” you crawl onto the bed with him, and look down at his monstrous dick. You still aren’t sure where the hell he was going to fit that. “You can look, but not touch right now, okay?”

“You’re killing me.”

“Okay?”

“Fine,” Slinging your leg over his body, you start kissing up his dick. Giving him a clear view of your glistening folds before flattening your tongue, and licking up the thick vein. “Fuck me,” he groans when you flick your tongue over his slit. Moaning at his salty flavor.

“Yeah, like that, baby,” it is almost a whine as you suck over his spongy tip. “Take it all,” you respond by wiggling your ass, and he wants to foam at the mouth. “Can I spread you apart?”

“What?” Lifting off him, you peek around your ass. He is staring at your cunt like a kid in a candy store. Ready to devour every bit of your honey.

“I won’t touch, I just want to stare at the face of God just a bit better.”

“Don’t put your finger inside of me, and I’ll let you spread me open, Captain. But I’m also just getting started.”

“Fine. Ahh!” He yelps when you wrap a hand around the base of his cock, and slap Clarence over your lips. His thick mitts grab each globe of your ass, and split you open. Letting his fingers drift lower, and he pulls apart your pussy lips. Moaning when you clench around nothing. Your arousal is getting so sticky and sweet, and all he wants is a little taste. Just a tiny bit, but he wants to know all you have planned.

Your little bean needs to be flicked, and your tight hole needs to be filled, but the way you are sucking on his dick was enough for him to come undone. “Don’t come unless I tell you, too,” you tease, looking back at him. Waiting on him to look at your sly little grin before swallowing him whole.

“You’re such a brat,” if he wanted to see a brat, you would show him one. Quickly you sit up, and drop yourself right onto his face. Grinding over his mouth, and let him slurp up your juices. Your hands press down into the mattress as you ride his face. My goodness, he is good. You could come right now. Letting his lips circle around your clit as he sucks on the pearl.

You’re gonna come. But you won’t let him enjoy cleaning up your honey. “Yeah. Captain!” He loves hearing your sweet voice call him that. His cock is throbbing at getting you off. Bringing up your hands to your tits, you give your nipples some stimulation as you let Steve work you over.

“So good, Captain. Right there. Yeah. Fuck yeah,” he swats at your ass, and you moan even louder. “Fuck, Captain,” another slap. “So fucking good! Ahh!” Screaming at your release as Steve smacks you again, you lean back down, and bob a few times on his cock.

“Oh, come on!” He shouts, having to stare up your petals soaked in your cream. Your sticky slick coats your thighs, and you need to be properly cleaned, “Dovey!”

“Enjoy looking at your brat, Captain,” he licks your remaining slick on his lips. Mesmerized at how pretty your pussy looks. Knowing how much better it will look, gaping, swollen, and coated in his cum. The messier your cunt looked the better. He was going to have to get a camera to record him destroying you. Owning you. Filling you up with his essence.

“Okay,” you chirp, sitting up, you turn to look at him.

“Now, that’s a bunch of horse shit. You better fucking finish the job. If you come, I better come.”

“I’m still not finished, Captain,” you promise so sweetly as your other leg swings over him. “I want Clarence to feel me,” holding the base of his cock, you sink down until you feel the cool metal from his piercing at your entrance. Rubbing his tip through your folds, and tempted to just push it through your hole. Holding it right there.

“I’ll let you do it, but I wouldn’t advise letting gravity have its way with you. What’re you doing, baby? Is this what you saw in the — holy fuck,” he whines as you lay him flat, and you settle your weight over his length. Letting your pussy lips be on either side of his cock.

Steve sits up, looking down at his stomach. This isn’t at all what he had planned. Seeing you innocently biting at your lip as you start to move over him. Your drenched cunt rubbing over his length in the most delightful way. He would have never taken the time for this. It was always about getting it in, and getting his feel before he’d leave his cum on their chest, their face, whatever. Never inside of them.

But with you he wanted to see you dripping with him. Wanted to watch your face as he split you open for the first time. He needed to see every change to your face. Hear all your sounds of pain and discomfort turn into blinding pleasure. He needed to see and feel it all.

But this not only feels amazing, it looks even better. Your sweet whimpers while you use him to get off. Even the bounce of your tits as you start to pick up speed, “Can I touch you?” You answer by nodding your head quickly. His hands slid up your body before cupping your breasts. Kneading each one of them with the expertise that only he has.

“You look so gorgeous, little bird. You’re making your Captain feel so good,” you start panting at his words. He admitted he was yours. “Clarence loves the way your pussy feels. Fuck, I need this, Dove. Everyday until you give me what’s mine. You’re going to take me so well, too. This pussy was made for me. She’s going to be molded to your Captain. The perfect fit, Dovey.”

He smiles when your movements become erratic. He isn’t sure if it’s the gyrating of your hips or the praising, but he is loving this. “I knew you could be a good girl for me. I can’t wait to feel all of you, Dovey. You’re all mine, and my body is all yours. Have you stretched so tight around me, and I’ll kiss away every tear that spills from your pretty eyes. There ya go, Dove. Right there, baby. You’re doing the best job for your Captain. Oh fuck, baby!”

He pinches and rolls your nipples as your legs start trembling. “There’s my girl. Look at how pretty you look when you’re coming. Go on, Dove. Ride it out. Ride out your high, darling,” he can feel your juices soak his pelvis, and while he was close, he was going to let you come down from this high.

“Thatta, girl,” removing his hands, he grabs both of your ass cheeks in his hands, and twists you around. Hovering his body over yours, his thick fingers brush back your baby hairs as he waits on your eyes to open back up. “How was that?”

“You didn’t — Capt…oh,” your voice sinks away when his hips thrust himself through your lips. It isn’t sex, and in a way, it is much more intimate. Steve looks over your face, and just how utterly spent you are becoming. Squeaking, and trying to mutter out his nickname.

“Shh, enjoy the ride,” he whispers before starting to nip at your neck. Giving the sensitive column open mouth kisses as you cling to his back. His whole weight was on top of you, and you wanted more. If you could speak, you’d tell him to have it right now. To go ahead and sink into you for real, but you couldn’t.

His pelvis drives through your folds quicker, the ball of his piercing rubbing over your clit, and causing your eyes to roll in the back of your head. You keep your legs good and spread to accommodate the thick body of Steve. A limp noodle. That’s what you were. Lifeless, but full of the most blinding pleasure.

“Dovey, I’m about to come, where do you want it?”

“Like…like that first time.”

“You want me to try to get some in you?” Vigorously you nod your head, and he hates he had to ask you. He wants his seed so deep inside of you that it makes him crazy. Sitting up, he chokes his cock a few times, before pressing the tip right at your entrance, and you simper as his warmth coats your pussy.

“Did some of it get in me?” Chuckling, Steve leans back on his heels, and spreads you out. “Yes, Dovey. Some of it got in there. I’d finger it in you, but I don’t want you to get pregnant like this.”

“Steve, I have an IUD,” he growls, his jaw pulsing. “What is it?”

“We gotta have that removed.”

“But…I don’t want to get pregnant right away. I want you to have me dicked down so hard I can’t walk. And I just don’t want to worry about that. Steve, I did this for us.”

“Fine. A few months, but then I want it removed. Because I will fuck you so hard and deep that your belly starts to swell with me. Fuck,” he grits his teeth, getting out of the bed. He doesn’t say another word as he walks into the bathroom. Returning with a warm washcloth he cleans you up. Finishing, he leans forward and peppers the sweetest kisses over your core. Letting a kiss linger as his eyes drift up to you, and he stands up swiftly.

“I need a cigarette. Go back to bed. I’ll be back in just a minute,” his voice is short, and almost angry? Puzzled?

“Okay,” you look at him a bit confused, but crawl under the covers, and hold them tight around your body. He was acting funny, and you aren’t sure why.

Steve stands just outside the front door. Keeping it wide open as he stares into the cabin. Taking long drawls of the stick. He knows he’s starting to lose his mind. First offering to let you brand him, and now this. He wouldn’t lose his touch, but he also wasn’t going to lose you. Yeah. He wanted you pregnant to keep you. It’s all it was. And that is a secret he would keep to himself.

“Hey,” you are thankful that there was a break from classes, and you could lounge around all day. But the random visits from Natasha were annoying. “Ahem,” she clears her throat, and you grunt in response. You want to be left alone.

“I hope your tits are covered, I’m coming in there.”

“Ahh,” you bring the covers up around your chest, jolting up in bed. “What are you doing?”

“I did warn you,” she pulls open your curtains, and you notice a box in her hands that she tosses on the bed. “There. It’s for you to wear. Steve will be here at five. You need a shower. Change the fucking sheets on the bed, and get used to people looking at your body. Steve loves showing off what he has that no one can touch. You could take a bath and get good and relaxed. Isn’t there some oils in there? Make yourself look nice.”

“What is going on?” Asking as you timidly pull the box towards you.

“Aww, your tattoo has healed nicely. I heard about it. You really let him do that?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” reaching into the box, you pull out a slinky dress. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I’m going to tell your lover boy you said that,” she gives you a quick wink. Was everyone aware that Steve didn’t like you using profanity? Everyone single one of them were probably watching and listening, just to tell him, “You’re going on a date. He’ll be here at five. Don’t be late.”

“I don’t have any shoes for this dress.”

Natasha takes a calculated step towards you before cupping your cheek. Her thumb traces the outline of your kiss bruised lips, and she smiles sweetly at you. “Honey, you belong to Steve Rogers. He’ll bring everything else that you’ll need for the date. He sure is breaking you in nicely. Have you let him fucked you yet?”

“No. His cock scares me,” your voice is so weak as you put the dress back in the box. You’d get it out after your bath.

“Why?” Natasha tries to stifle her giggles, and you swat her hand off your face. Glaring up at her for mocking you, “Ooh, she’s feisty, but too scared to take little Stevie’s dick. You know it’ll fit.”

“Three fingers hurt.”

“And that veiny cock is going to sting. Surely three fingers eventually feel good? I bet you like a little bit of the pain, don’t you? Is it true he’s pierced?” Her perfectly arched brow moves up, and she grins at you once again.

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’m talking about his — you sly dog. You won’t let him put it in your puss or your ass, but you’ll take it in your mouth. What gives?” Shrugging, because it was killing you to continue to deny him. And ultimately yourself. “Things stretch.”

“That sounds awful!”

“At first,” shocking you, she flops down on yours and Steve’s bed, grimacing as she looks at you. “Please, tell me the two of you just sleep here.”

“I’m naked,” of course you and Steve didn’t just sleep in here. You and him were discovering ways to pleasure yourselves and each other without penetration. It was beginning to suck.

“Shh. I don’t need to hear that. I’m going to give you some pointers because you and your baby bird talons have managed to do something to Steve. You want to fuck him, yeah?”

“Duh,” you cover your mouth, trying to stop yourself from giggling. “But it’s so big!”

“Don’t…stop. Keep your tits covered. The pussy stretches to accommodate large things. I mean babies come out of that hole,” gasping, you take that information in. “Oh, you’ll experience that as well. Steve is going to have his babies. But you’re freaking yourself out about it. Let it just happen. He’s not going to just shove himself in there. He’s going to, you know, play with you.”

“This is really awkward,” the way everyone is so open with your sex life, and your body is slightly embarrassing. Natasha is better than Bucky or Sam, but still. The principle of the matter is you need to get used to this.

“Use one of your toys, and…”

“I’m not allowed to have penetrating toys.”

Her mouth falls open as she looks at you. Reaching around you to your side of the bed, she pulls open the drawer, and starts laughing, “Not allowed? And you behave? I’d like for someone to tell me I couldn’t do something. What is this shit? What do you even do with them?”

You spend a lot of time swatting Natasha. Getting her out of your drawer, you close it. Turning to look at her with a glare, “But I’m not you. I don’t mind being told what to do, and also testing his boundaries. And, well…I do want Steve to be the first thing, ya know? Like that’s somehow romantic in our fucked up relationship. He’s the only person to ever be inside me,” Natasha tilts her head to the side, her eyes flit around your face as she studies you. “And only his fingers. And mine. And I like that. And I don’t know if what I’m doing is making him want to beg for me. I don’t want to be the one that breaks.”

“So you want him to break?” You can see the mischievousness in her grin as she looks towards the door. “Okay, I know what he’s bringing you when he picks you up. I’ve got the perfect idea!”

“Little bird!” Steve shouts the moment he walks in the door. You take a final look at yourself in the mirror before inhaling a deep breath. Starting to turn around when Steve’s reflection is behind you. “Dove,” his voice whispers as his eyes scan over your front and back. You almost have forgotten your given name in preference of his nickname.

“Wow,” stepping up behind you, his hands skim down your sides, before flowing over your stomach, and he pulls you into him. “What do you think of the dress?”

“It’s nice. But what do you think?”

“I think you look good enough to devour, but we should get to dinner.”

“Steve, I don’t have any shoes for this dress,” you turn around in his embrace, looking up at him through your lashes. There’s always little reminders of just how massive he is. The most broad shoulders you have ever seen. And those chiseled arms that are currently wrapping around you tightly, and make you feel secure. Not trapped.

“I know, darling. I brought you some shoes with me. And also,” you hate the loss of his arms and warmth around you, but he reaches in his back pocket to take out a jewelry box. “I know most women expect diamonds, and don’t worry, you’ll get your diamonds.”

Opening the box, you glance back up at him, and he gulps. Licking his lips slowly as he removes the piece of jewelry. You turn back around, letting him place the necklace around your neck, “Pearls represent purity. And one day I’ll have you dripping in diamonds.”

“The day I’m no longer pure?” You ask, looking at his eyes through the mirror as he finishes clasping the necklace. “The day you no longer want me?”

“Dovey, you’ll always be more pure than me. And the day I no longer want you is a day that doesn’t exist. If I die first, I will haunt you. You’ll always be mine.”

“And if I die first?” Steve takes a long inhale as his lips start running over the top of your back. Not even lifting fully off your skin as he presses his petal pink mouth over your supple skin, “What happens if I die first?”

“I’ll join you in the afterlife immediately after. I won’t live without you,” biting on your lip, Steve looks deep into your eyes in the mirror, “There is no me without you, Dovey. I will tear this world apart and burn it to ashes to save you. And that’s a promise. But for now, I think it’s time for dinner. C’mon. You need your shoes,” sliding his hand down to yours, he guides you into the living room where he picks up a new box.

Starting to reach towards the box, he beats you, and sinks down to his knees, “Give me your right foot. I’m here for balance, Dovey, use me,” you have to brace yourself as you hold your hand on him to keep yourself from falling. His calloused hands add each heel to your foot before he kisses up your leg.

The softest open mouth kisses, guiding his way up to the hemline of your dress, but it doesn’t stop his ascent. Kissing right over your front and then peppering kisses across your collarbone. Going further up to kiss your tattoo, “You wear my mark beautifully, Dovey. We really should go.”

You aren’t sure how long Steve is going to remain soft, or if he’s only trying to break you, so he can receive his ultimate prize, but it’s working. Every bit of it. You don’t even want to go to dinner, you want tonight to be the night. Because he’s worth it.

You take a bite of cheesecake off Steve’s fork. Smiling at him while you pull his hand under your dress, and higher up your thigh. Letting him feel just how heated your core was for him. Tonight was amazing. Not just romantic, but fun. He laughed. He kissed you in between courses.

His life is fascinating, and you love being a part of it. His pinky wiggles along your panties, and you bite of your lip, stopping a whimper from escaping. You lean your head over onto his shoulder as you let him feel just how ruined your panties are.

You mewl, and grab tighter to his arm. Enjoying this moment when a man clears his throat. “Looks like your getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar, Rogers.”

“Rumlow,” Steve grunts, leaning forward slightly in front of your body, and blocking you from this man. “Aren’t you usually in the slums of the city?”

“Funny, Rogers. So it is true?” Steve pulls himself out from under your dress, and grabs your hand, holding it tightly. Dinner was almost over, and now there is a man you had never met, and he is ruining the moment you were having. “You got you a little doll to dress up, huh?”

“Just some girl,” making a sign of irritation, Steve’s hand squeezes yours, and you shut up quickly. “I thought I told you not to come here.”

“Yeah, well, there’s not so nice of places to eat where you banished me to. The delicacies here are much nicer. Word on the street is there’s some nice rare and fresh pussy in your midst,” Rumlow chuckles when Steve’s hand drops yours, and he stands, twisting Rumlow around to have his face shoved up against the table.

He laughs as he looks up at you, “You’ll learn. He’ll just use you up like all his other whores,” Steve lifts his head up, and slams it back on the table. “Enough, Rogers!”

“Apologize to her!” He grunts, pounding his head again. “Apologize!”

“So she’s not some girl. You used to send your whores wherever you got the most money. Now look at you, holding one on a short leash, and all for your own. Going soft. Alright!” He shouts when Steve hits his head again. A dribble of blood starting to drip on the table.

A part of you wants to turn and leave and forget about this life. The other part is watching your man fight for your honor. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks for ruining our fucking dinner, you fucking pig,” he slings his body over to another table and the patrons scream. His inked hand softens when he takes yours. “Let’s go home, Dovey.”

His voice is steady, but you hear the anger in it. Choosing to not make a comment this time. Knowing that he needs to work through his anger on the long drive to the cabin. Swallowing deeply as you try to hydrate your mouth. Tonight was perfect. And with one asshole it was ruined, and you hadn’t had a chance to initiate Natasha’s plan.

Driving quietly to the cabin, you watch Steve’s hands flex on the steering wheel, “Who was that?”

“A piece of shit.”

“I could tell,” Steve huffs, and drives a bit faster. “Who was it?”

“A former friend. He…he’s another dealer. Not quite as successful, and he sure likes to piss me off. This…I want you kept away from people like him. They think they know, and they have no idea. But — I should have known better. People can talk, but…”

“We don’t have to go on dates anymore,” grimacing, he turns to look at you. “Is it dangerous for me to be seen with you?”

“I put a fucking target on your neck.”

“I can finish school online. I don’t want to stay in the cabin alone and waiting on you, but I don’t have to be seen.”

“Why are you acting so calm about this?”

You shrug, turning your body to face him as your hand plants on his thigh, and rubs it soothingly. “Because I have to be the calm to your chaos.”

“You’re a fucking brat.”

“When I need to be,” Steve’s mouth turns up into a crooked grin as he pulls into the cabin. Starting to retreat, you had plans, and you would see them through. “I’m going to slip into something more comfortable, Captain,” his eyes darken as you jump out of the car. You make sure to add some extra sway into your hips as you make your way into your new home.

Steve stays in the car for a moment as he thinks about how stupid and reckless he’s been. Rumlow had heard something. Didn’t matter if it was about you specifically. He heard something, and that was enough to irritate the fuck out of him.

He’d put a target right on your neck, one that told people who you belonged to. And most would leave you alone. There were a select few that were stupid enough to try something, and that clearly hadn’t been on the front of his mind.

He’d keep you hidden if he had to. He’d keep you right beside him. Whatever it took because you now belonged to him, and he would murder the world if it meant keeping you safe.

He sighs, knowing it was going to be another night of him aching. You were folding. You wanted him as much as he wanted you. But you had proven to be just as stubborn as he was, and it made him giddy. Of course he’d want to keep someone that challenged him. And looked damn adorable in doing so.

Walking into the cabin, he tosses his keys to the side when he sees you standing in the doorway with your little lingerie on. Turning around, he locks the door and sets the alarm, “I’m not really in the mood, Dovey.”

“I know you’re not, Captain. I just thought we could relax a moment before bed,” he turns around, the blue of his eyes barely visible as he looks you up and down. Stopping on your mark before he looks at your bare neck.

“I need to get you a place to store your jewelry. Did you place it on the dresser?” You shake your head no as he walks towards the couch. Stopping with your answer, and you ease closer to him. Kneeling on the floor in front of him as you pout up at his tall stature. He cups your chin, tilting your face up more, so he can see you better.

His thumb traces your lips, and you part your mouth. The appendage slips past your pillowy pout, and you respond, closing your mouth around him. Sucking on his large thumb, and wishing it was his cock in your mouth., “On the counter in the bathroom?”

You shake your head no again, and his lip turns up into a snarl. Hoping you are right in your thinking on what he needs to do. “What the fuck, Dove? Where is it?”

“I must have lost it,” he growls, removing his thumb and plopping down on the couch, and laying his head back on the cushions. His hands pulses with his anger. Natasha told you he had taken the time to pick out the piece of jewelry himself. “Are you mad, Captain?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed off. I got something for you to be nice, and you fucking lost it. It’s like you don’t even care. It’s…”

“You think I deserve a punishment?” His head picks up from the couch, and he glares at you. Trying to ignore your tits that are early popping out of your top. Or the way that the garter belt is digging into your soft skin. You were walking sin. A pure temptress that was nothing but a cocktease.

“I lost something that is precious to you. You’re angry, so why don’t you show me what happens to naughty girls?”

“You don’t know what you’re asking, Dovey,” the timbre of his voice is low and full of rasp as you tilt your head, and nod.

“I do. Don’t you remember what happened last time you punished me? The way my body responded to you? Don’t you want to try again?”

In one movement he has you laying across his lap, and his beefy hand smooths over your ass. Letting out a little whimper, you turn back to look up at him. “Did you really lose my gift I just gave you a few hours ago?”

“Yes, sir,” smack. “Mmm,” you moan, and Steve’s hand rubs over your stinging skin. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” slap on the other cheek. His eyes look more at your jiggling ass than your face.

“I am sorry, Captain. Ooh!” You mewl as he slaps each cheek back to back. “I’ve been such a bad,” smack, “Naughty,” smack, “little bird,” the hardest smack of all brings a line of tears to your eyes. “Captain, I didn’t mean it.”

“How is your ass feeling, Dovey?”

“It hurts.”

“How’s my pussy feeling, Dove?” You clear your throat, trying to lift yourself up for him to get a better view. “I can feel you throbbing on me. You sure are a little slut that needs to be devoured, huh? Shall I take a look at that pretty hole?” You shake your head no, biting at your lip. “I deserve to see the mess that I helped create. You’re burning a hole in my pants with how heated you are.”

His thick fingers start to pull down your lacey underwear, and he lets them stay on your thighs. With one hand on each cheek, he pulls you apart, and looks back up at your face, “Dovey, what are you trying to do?”

“Nothing, Captain.”

“What have we here?” You whimper as his hand reaches in between your thighs, giving the necklace a little tug. Wiggling around on his lap, you try not to make a peep as a few of the pearls pop out of your entrance.

“Who taught you about pearl play, hmm? I don’t like when things go in my pussy that aren’t me.”

“But it’s so small. Uhh,” you bite on your lip as he rubs a few of the pearls over your sensitive nub. “I didn’t…”

“It was Natasha, wasn’t it? She taught you how to be a naughty little slut. Are you ready to submit to me?”

“Do I have your heart?” Steve flattens the strand of pearls above your clit, and pushes and pulls it over your own pearl. “Do I, Steve?”

“Is my loyalty not enough?”

“Is that all I’m worth?”

“You’re more than the world could ever offer.”

“Then say…mmm…say it!” Your voice cracks as pleasure courses through your veins. “I need you to say that I own your heart!”

“You own me,” he pulls a few of the pearls out of your twat, and stars interrupt your vision. “You own my whole being. My loyalty. My protection. My everything.”

You grab onto his legs tightly, gritting your teeth as your orgasm builds up. Nearly taking your breath away, but you weren’t going to give it to him. “I want your heart!” Steve pulls the necklace fully out of you, and starts slapping your swollen pussy lips with his flattened hand. “I need your heart, Steve!”

He doesn’t stop. Just continues to slap over the sensitive skin as your juices pool out of you. “Steve, give me your heart! Ahh! Please, that's all I want!” Turning your head to look at him, he gives you a regretful look, “Please!” You sigh as his hand flattens over your core. “Will you not give it to me?”

He shakes his head, letting his hands drop to his sides. Giving a little growl, you remove your belly from his lap. Standing up to remove your panties completely before turning to straddle him. Grabbing up his hand you place it over your chest. “It’s yours. All of it, and all of me is yours. Why can’t you do the same for me? Steve, you own me. I own you, so give me what I want! Please.”

“I have no heart to give you,” he whispers, pulling you to him by your chin. “I lost it a long time ago, but if I had one, it would be yours.”

“You just don’t want to tell me you love me.”

“You haven’t even told me,” he smirks, dropping his hands to your thighs, they run to your hips, and he starts grinding you over his lap. His cock presses into his slacks, and right onto your bare center. It’s a fear you’ve had. As amazing as he feels, you worry this is all he can give you. “Tell me.”

“You first,” Steve clears his throat, as he moves you faster over him. Moving his head closer to your chest before biting on your top, and pulling it down enough to free your tits. Giving your nipple a bite, he rolls the hardened bud in between his teeth. “We’re at a stand still. Will you love our children?”

“I’ll protect them and care for them.”

“That’s all you’re going to give us?”

“Honey, are you daydreaming about our family?”

“Don’t tease,” you give his arm a little swat before you force him to look at you. His hands not having to make you move anymore as your hips naturally search for that pleasuring friction. “I love you, Steven Rogers. And you can have me when I mark you. All of me. I want every woman to be envious that you’re owned. Every man to know that you come home to me every night. I want our children to look at their father and believe that he loves their mother enough to have her seared on his skin.”

“Done,” he moans, and you reach behind you, removing your bra. Letting yourself be almost completely bare and vulnerable for him. Leaning forward, you give him a hard bite on his neck. Right where you were going to mark him, and he grits his teeth. You don’t let up. You listen as his breathing picks up. Can feel bruises forming on your hips with the way he is digging into your skin.

His cock is throbbing, needing so much more than this not so dry humping. His pants are ruined, and his neck is getting implanted with your teeth marks. But you don’t stop. You bite down a bit harder, until he’s screaming in pleasure and pain, and his spunk heats up your core. You pull off his neck. Sitting straight up, and shimmy your shoulders.

“Is that it then? Searing my skin?”

“I want my lips to burn your neck. I need to see my brand charred on you.”

“As you wish, Dovey. I’ll have Natasha get your lips copied, and a branding tool will be created. You can burn my whole body if it means I get you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“And one day, I’ll have your heart, Steve,” you pull off him, and reach your hand down to him. “Let’s go to bed.”

“As you wish.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloki @thestralwriting @ambearsstuff @lyndys @kandis-mom @hoodiesandicedcoffee @awhoreformoree @nyxbellabarnes @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @honeyhoneylovelylove 

[keen-observations-x]

Keen observation: Giyū is a hypocrite:

Let me explain:

I have a headcannon // Oneshot for this that I will link HERE when it is finished x.

Alright, to prove this point I am going to focus on two specific points (With Anime episodes and Manga chapters listed)

Okay: the first point to be made is with when Tanjiro is trying to convince Giyú to come and train the other demon slayers, and Giyú is doing all he can to avoid and // or ignore poor sweet Tanjiro.

Exhibits A // B // C:

"Giyú sannnnn!!" // "Mr. Giyuuu!!"

Throughout Season five, Episode two "Water Hashira Giyú Tomioka's Pain" (Covering from chapter 130 of the Manga), we get to see Tanjiro's sheer determination to convince the stoic hashira to join in training the younger // lower ranking corps members - to which Giyú consistently either flat out refuses him, or ignores him - leading to a rather hilarious sequence of events that last over a few days.

And at one point we get to see things from Giyú's perspective - and what he says made me get thinking: HMM THIS SEEMS AWFULLY FAMILIAR - OH YEAH THAT'S BECUASE IT IS.

(Thoughts) Is he going to… keep this up for the rest of my life?

(Thoughts) If I talk to him, will he stop stalking me?

AND THAT LEADS ME INTO POINT B. Throughout Season five  Episode 7, "Stone Hashira Gyomei Himejima" - We find Giyú and Sanemi in the midst of a heated spar - only for Tanjiro to intervene because he thinks that they are actually fighting each other.

He then proceeds to talk about Sanemi's enjoyment of Ohagi (For reference Ohagi is a Japanese sweet that is made of glutenous rice flour and red bean paste // it is also sometimes called red bean mochi and is like an inside out Daifuku) - And Giyú displays interest in this, notable by the remark he passes to the other Hashira

"You like Ohagi?"

(Also how refreshing was it to see Giyú actually trying to make friends?? Like AHHHH he's trying so hard and WHO DOES THAT SOUND LIKE?? - TANJIRO.)

Giyú then goes on to tell Tanjiro his silly little plan; the next time he sees Sanemi - he's going to hide some Ohagi up his sleeve to give to him. Now see, that sounds really cute and all, but imagine this from Sanemi's perspective.

He's clearly embarrassed by Tanjiro talking about his liking of Ohagi - based off his reaction to Tanjiro bringing it up. He shouted, and then stormed off.

Now picture the person who he hates on a level nearly par with demons (Someone who is always painfully quiet and uninterested in him) suddenly acting all smiley and enthusiastic, brandishing Ohagi from... up his sleeve? I don't know about you, but that would seem quite odd to me, condescending even.

Personally, I headcannon that Giyú went full Tanjiro in his pursuit to give Sanemi some Ohagi and become friends with him, but a more so silent approach. Like he'd still be overbearing, but with that little smile of his accompanied by an empty stare and total silence.

It'd creep the hell out of Sanemi and probably make him feel a little insecure, almost embarrassed of himself if Giyuu was going to this length in (what he thinks is) teasing him.

Another instance of miscommunication for them. Sanemi would probably start thinking like Giyú had-

"Is he going to keep this up forever!?"

"Goddammit, if I entertain this will he leave me alone?!"

(Just look at his silly face // he is both pure of heart and dumb of ass)

but I think Sanemi's face was bound to look less like that ^^^ and more like this: vvv

AND THERE IS MY LITTLE ESSAY ON WHY GIYU IS A HYPOCRITE - WHETHER HE KNOWS IT OR NOT.

And an abridged one below:

( I think he would have eventually taken a piece of Ohagi from him, and that it would have made Giyú insanely happy - but Sanemi takes that as him being sarcastic - causing more friction on his side, whereas Giyú thinks they are making progress, making him do it again.

I think this kerfuffle would have only been cleared up after the final battle, to which Sanemi feels a little worse for being so cold to Giyú - but is immediately forgiven and gifted with a bunch of Ohagi, as Giyú grew quite skilled at making it after so many practice runs. )

THEY'RE SO SILLY I LOVE THEM

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Repentance

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

('Burn' gifs are limited and this was hotter. Sue me.)

Summery: You know the phrase 'sleeping angels?' Yeah, not in this fucking house. Pretty soon it's gonna be you or him, but Billy may have a trick or two up his sleeve to provide a happy ending for you both

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specified genitals for Reader, prequel/standalone fic for 'My Ghost' but not required reading to enjoy this fic, ('My Ghost' may even be enhanced if you read this first, I'll be fr.) Porn with plot (if you are only here for plot, the porn is only in the second half and is easily skippable), snoring, Reader is sleep deprived, non-serious threats of violence, mentions of gun violence, banter, make-up sex, drug usage/alcohol consumption, Dom!Billy, Sub!Reader, Reader goes mostly non-verbal after smoking but their thoughts don't, dumbification, Reader gets spoiled and folds like a lawn chair me too bitch me too, massage turning into sex, doggy style, Reader gets that good dick that knocks their head into a wall, vocal! Billy, dirty talk/talking through it, pet names, possessive sex, mentions of wet dreams, happy ending for everyone :)

Other Works in This Series: 'My Ghost' (Original) • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: This was supposed to be a drabble and it was not gonna contain smut. What can I say, when the holy spirit of a short man with big brown eyes compels you, you compel him into your bitch. Anyways, this was inspired by this headcanon written by @g0ry0re0! So if you liked this fic, please thank her as well in the comments and go support her works because this wouldn't exist without it!! They're a fucking great writer as well.

                            -¤°》◇《°¤-

Have you ever killed a man?

I might.

Listen, I'm not a bitch. I'm not unreasonable even though that was a hell of an opening statement. But if you'd dealt with the shit I've put up with for the past few nights, you would understand.

How can a man who's not even that fucking large in stature make such noise? What the fuck is wrong with him?

I kick him to try and hit a reset button. It works for five minutes, which is long enough for me to begin to relax again. Right before his snoring revs up like the engine of that bike he loves parked on our front lawn. Maybe I'll run him over with it. Be poetic, take him out with his own weapon. Don't the reports show just how deadly motorcycles are compared to regular cars? It's bad for your health.

Okay, I'm assuming that bit because I'm tired, I'm cold, and Billy won't shut the fuck up. It was a little cute when he was just spending the night and we were hardly sleeping. But now that he actually lives here?

Kick. Stop. Wait. Snore.

Goddammit.

Billy has the fucking audacity to greet me with a smile this morning. Sitting at my fucking table, smoking from the ashtray I fucking made him. He should be ashamed to look so good with no shirt on, displaying his chest hair for the whole neighborhood to see as he sits near the open window with coffee set in front of him like he owns the damn place.

"Morning beautiful," he says with a smile. What fucking nerve does he have to sit there and act so happy about while I hate him?

"You snore," I growl. His eyebrows shoot into the air, this son of a bitch has the nerve to widen his smile.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said you fucking snore," I repeat.

"Don't think I've heard that complaint before," he says, shifting in his seat to look at me better. I don't like the way he looks in those sweatpants, grey and hugging the wrong areas for my attitude.

"You haven't dated anyone long enough for someone to complain about it," I mutter under my breath. His eyes focus on the oversized shirt I wear that alright, maybe I stole from the drawer I stash his things in that I now claim as mine. We live together, it's inevitable, fucking fight me. Watching me as I walk into the kitchen, taking the coffee pot off the dock and pouring some into my cup.

"Something I can do to make up for it, shirt thief?" He asks, leaning back in his seat and manspreading, his hands on his horribly thick thighs. "I was wondering where that one went," he mutters to himself, amused.

"Yeah. See a fucking doctor."

It's day five. I'm genuinely considering homicide.

Dear God, or Allah, or whoever you are. If I shouldn't suffocate this man, give me a sign.

...does the short snore that escapes Billy's mouth count?

It doesn't matter what I do. If I turn him onto his side, if I kick him, if I shove ear buds in and blast whatever music I can sleep to at max volume, he's louder and I'm on my last straw. It's him or me.

"William," I say, poking my head up from the old pillow.

No response.

Maybe it's safe.

Maybe he's dead.

Maybe he'll stay quiet.

I lay my head down once more.

"...what?"

"You fucking snore."

"I'm sorry baby," he slurs in half baked consciousness, turning to wrap his arm around my waist as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to the back of my neck. "Can I make it up to you?"

"Yeah, let me sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak."

I am weak. I am very, very weak.

"Put your dick away."

"It isn't out."

"I can still feel it."

With a grumble and his face buried in my hair, he abandons his quest in favor of returning to whatever dreams make him keep me up at night. And I am so close to joining him when he starts back up hardly two minutes later. Right in my ear.

With a final huff, I tear the blanket off of him and stomp my bleary eyed way to the living room. Fucker is too sleepy to even notice. Fuck him.

I'm not amused when I wake up in the ungodly hours of the morning sprawled on the couch, Billy's foot in my face as early morning light peaks through the shitty blinds.

"You followed me," I groan, my voice rough with sleep.

"I followed blanket," he slurs.

"It's mine."

"I was cold."

"You snore."

"I've offered consolation, you should take it."

"William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"Fucking what?"

"Have you ever shot a man?" I repeat slowly, properly enunciating each word.

Billy's eyes dart to the side, then back to me, wide but still tinted from sleep.

"...no?"

"I've considered it," I tell him. "There's a gun in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

Billy presses his lips together in a thin line, knowing I'm not serious but that I'm on the last straw.

"... should I go back to bed?"

"I can go back to bed," I say. "You can stay on the couch."

"That's a great idea."

"I'll take the blanket."

"You do that."

It's only two hours later when I'm woken by the alarm, and the smell of sausage is fresh on the air. Even if it was short, the sleep in solitude feels refreshing, no interruptions from Yellowstone volcano on the other side.

When I wander into the kitchen he's in the midst of finishing his preparations for a feast. And by feast I mean a fuck load of eggs with sriracha on top and plenty of sausages to go with it. There's also a pile of toast, the bottle of homemade cinnamon sugar next to the stick of butter besides it.

"Morning beautiful," Billy tries carefully, eyeing me as I lean against the hallway doorframe. "Coffee's on the table."

Whatever I said earlier- which may or may not be blurry to me at this point -has clearly changed his attitude. He's even set out the hazellenut creamer for me, a treat.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks, setting a heaping plate in front of me. I don't know how to tell him I'm too sleepy to eat.

"Better," I say. I take a slice of cinnamon covered toast, trying to convince my stomach to wake up. "Kinda cold, though."

He smiles softly at that, setting down his own plate to join me. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I return the smile, taking a small bite of the corner of my toast. He takes a sip of coffee and brushes his foot against mine under the table. The silence is sweet, apart from the radio just ever so quietly playing in the background to add to the calm morning atmosphere Billy has created for me. His hair is ruffled from sleep, his hand nervously fiddling with the thin chain around his neck. He glances at me, smiles apprehensively, then breaks the silence.

"Do you actually own a gun?" He asks, trying so hard to sound casual.

My brows furrow before I realize what he's referencing, letting out a loud laugh and almost dropping my toast in the process.

"I'm not gonna shoot you, Billy," I laugh, trying so hard to maintain my composure.

"Last night you called me William. I did not like that," he laughs nervously.

"William, I will not shoot you."

"My mother calls me that, I don't want you and my mom calling me the same name."

"Willy-"

"Fuck you," he groans, laughing. "You're terrifying."

"When I don't sleep," I add for him. He nods, eyes wide and brows raising in agreement. "Did you seriously make breakfast because you were worried I owned a gun?"

"When you meet the devil, you meet demands," he says. I kick at his foot playfully, giggling.

"The devil doesn't really eat breakfast."

"I know, I packed lunch too."

Fuck free will, I should've done the gun thing a long time ago. When I walk back into the ramshack house that evening fresh off my shift, Billy has dinner, a bowl and a bath prepared for me upon my return.

"I did not take your comments seriously and I'm sorry," he says genuinely, taking my coat. "I should have and you have suffered. Consider this repentance."

"Repentance is nice. You hide the gun too while you were at it?" I ask.

"I'm not answering that."

Billy may be many things, and a cook is one of them. It's simple, fresh, and nice after a long day. The backrub I'm getting while I eat makes the flavors even sweeter.

"I feel an urge to clarify my threat was not serious," I joke between bites, taking a sip of the wine Billy had run out and gotten special for the night.

"I'm well aware, but this is overdue anyways," he says softly. "You're mine and you deserve nice nights." He presses a warm kiss to the spot just under my ear, making me blush. "My baby needs spoiled."

"Well, I certainly feel spoiled," I say contently, finishing the last bite. I lean back in my chair, letting him explore my neck as his gentle hands work their way through my many knots, whispering sweet nothings in my ear all the while.

"Wait until I tell you what kinds of oils I slipped in your bath as well," he whispers in my ear.

If this is repentance, he should snore more often.

I'm stoned, zoned, and completely naked across the bed as Billy carefully massages my legs, phone propped on a spare pillow beside my head as I stare blankly at the show in front of me.

His hands are slick with oil, gliding across my skin with ease as he works at a knot on the back of my calf.

"I've been ignoring you too much," he muses, his voice soft and loving as his thumbs work in small circles. "You're much too tense for my taste."

I am too stupid to respond with English. I will tell him later about the day I've had at work, running around for fifteen different customers and a boss I can hardly stand. But for now a low moan will do, my mind too blurry from substance use and the stimulation that makes me dizzy with want.

"Does that feel good?" Billy asks, pressing a small kiss against my shin. I moan again, eyes fluttering shut. "Wanna make sure my baby sleeps well tonight."

Oh, I'll sleep phenomenally.

His hands abandon me, searching for the bottle of lavender scented oil, coating his hands before reaching for the back of my thighs, right below the curve of my ass.

"How's the show?" He asks me, digging deeply into my tissue in a way that makes me moan, arching my back subconsciously as the stimulation takes over my thoughts. "That good?" He asks, voice deep as he chuckles.

"Very good," I confirm, my voice soft against the freshly washed bedsheets. I have never said a bad thing about this man. I would never curse the provider of relaxation. Any claims otherwise are false and slandering against me and my man.

"You're grinding against the bed, you realize that, right?" Billy asks bemused, his thumbs drawing deep circles against the inside of my thighs, making me gasp in want. "There something else you want?"

Whatever strain he has given me has made me nonverbal, but the squeak I let out is answer enough. For me, anyways.

"I need words, baby. Words. Vague noises are not consent," he says softly.

"Motherfucker that noise was not vague," I snap, lifting my head up briefly before resuming my mindless appreciation against the bed. Billy's laugh echoes throughout the room, his hand lightly smacking my ass before reaching for the small towel and bottle of lube on the nightstand, wiping off his hands before squeezing a generous dollop onto two digits.

His fingers press against my entrance slowly, coating it with the thick, cold lube, making me squirm and gasp against him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"I'm gonna start off slow, okay baby?" He says gently, still stroking my entrance as he positions himself above me. "You let me know if you want me to change something."

I moan in understanding, but it's not enough for him. His voice is low and rumbling by my ear, his lips teasing at my shoulder.

"Say yes if you understand," he says softly, breath hot against my ear.

"Yes," I say just as soft.

"Good," he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my neck. "Good baby."

His cock slowly sinks inside of me, the pot from earlier making the sensations deeper and more vibrant as I feel the sweet stretch even at the top of my head. Billy moves slow, taking his time to enter me as though we had all the time in the world. I can't help but pant against the bed, whining for more intelligibly as Billy sheethes himself to the hilt, pressing himself against my g-spot just perfectly at this angle, no real effort needed when I'm like this. My eyes roll at the touch, my hips bucking in uneven, stupid rhythms against him as he remains still inside of me. Fuck it, he could snore in my ear right now and I'd let him.

Billy's voice is breathy, moaning as he brushes my hair with his hand. "Let me know when you want me to move," he moans in my ear.

"I am," I whine. "Fuck me."

He chuckles against me, his voice rough as he continues in a slow, even rhythm. "You don't want to go slow first?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my spine as he slowly slides against my spot again, his cock making me clench tightly around him.

"Uh uh," I moan, still trying to buck rapidly against him. "Want more."

"You usually get so overstimulated if I start fast at this angle," he teases, ignoring the pace of my hips in favor of his. "Can't even finish fucking you if I start out fast, you're so sensitive by the end."

That's a lie. Terrible lie. Slander.

"Do you really want me to go fast?" He asks softly, one hand finding my hip to guide me to a better rhythm.

"Motherfucker, yes," I whine, lifting my head. He chuckles, much to my annoyance. "Fuck me like you own me."

At that he grabs my hips, slamming me against his base before he begins to violently abuse my hole, fucking directly into my g-spot and never missing once as he fucks me hard enough to make the bed slam into the wall, making a painting rattle on the wall behind us.

"Jesus- fuck- wait!" I cry, my hips subconsciously trying to escape his abuse while I clench around him, silently begging for more.

He slows his pace once more, pressing such soft, sweet kisses to my spine as he speaks. "See? You can't handle it like that. You're half fucked out already and that wasn't even five seconds."

He's absolutely right and I should listen to him more. How wise is my man.

"If I was really fucking you like I owned you," he says lowly between slow, long thrusts, his hands guiding my hips gently as I whimper with each move like the bitch I am. "I'd pick the pace. But here you are, telling me what to do and changing your mind the moment I give it to you. So indecisive is my baby." Very indecisive. Go fast again. "And I'll do whatever you want like a good man should."

I will stay home with the kids. I will scrub my permanently stained linoleum floor until it shines like the top of the Chrysler building. I will spend my days barefoot and pregnant if he so requests of me. In Jesus's name, Amen.

Billy moves slow and purposefully against me, grinding his cock and moaning in my ear while he watches me, smacking my ass here and there when he wants to watch it bounce against his hips.

"So pretty," he moans. "Even prettier when you cum. Is there something I can do to help?"

I whine against the bed, feeling edged and whoreish with his thick dick pulsing inside of me, fucking me into blind submission and making me willing to do anything he says.

"Would someone like for me to go faster?" He coos sweetly, slightly speeding up his tempo as he slams more gently into my spot. "Does my baby wanna get fucked?"

I nod stupidly, whining and huffing as he slowly continues to gain speed.

"You gonna cum around me? Take my cock real nice and fast?" He asks, smacking my ass once more. I clench upon impact, making him do it again and again until he laughs.

"Cum in me," I moan. All care has been thrown out the window, my head scrambled and vision blind.

"Yeah? You want that?" He teases. His balls smack loudly against my front, offering additional stimulation and making my eyes roll. "Looks like you're drooling over it." Motherfucker I am, and?

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you sleep for days, sweetheart," he moans in my ear, slamming into me hard enough to make me squeal. "Kept dreaming about you for the past week. Kept getting all nice and hard only to have you wake me up before I could fuck you. Come to find out I was keeping my poor baby up, being my own cockblock."

His cock pistons in and out of me at impressive speed, one of his hands slamming against the bars of the metal headboard to offer him stability while he fucks me, the bed ramming against the wall so loudly it's all I can hear besides him. I think the painting fell.

"Now we can both sleep better at night. My balls empty, your ass nice and full. Think I'll do it again tomorrow," he muses, slamming me against the bed, pushing me higher. "And again." And higher. "And again." Until the top of my head pounds against the ceiling. "Till the fucken cows come home."

Moo, bitch. Moo.

With a pathetic scream, hardly able to make any noise due to the violent climax, I cry his name as I clench around him. His dick pounds my head into the wall absuively as he chants my name like it's the only word ever known to him, his voice raising in volume until he's shouting it so clear it raises above the rocking of the bed, loud enough surely for the neighbors to hear. I'm hardly even aware of when he cums, or really anything at this point, his dick pulsing within me and fucking his admittedly larger than usual load into me so deep you'd think there'd be no chance of it to escape. I'm only aware he came when his cock finally softens, our cum dripping and pooling underneath of me in a mixed puddle when he slips out with a small whimper, his breath so heavy and wheezing I'm almost scared he'll pass out on top of me.

"Wanna go again?" He jokes, his voice worryingly pathetic as he tries to laugh, sounding more like a death rattle than anything. All I respond with is a shaky thumbs down, my head spinning from the possible concussion I may genuinely have.

It's an effective sleep method. Works wonders for both of us.

                              ▪︎》◇《▪︎

After he slips out of the house one winter morning with my gun tucked in the back of his jeans, I can't tell you how much I'd give to hear him snore against our lavender scented bed one last time, feeling his arms that are now ash and bones on the floor of a gas station just outside of town. My only company now being his ghost echoing his bright laughter down the darkened halls of what was once our home.

You like my ending bbgirl? Special just for youuu.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist

[yakumtsaki]

Spice and Cyan are the last cousin-fuckers left standing and are proving impossible to break up. I'm inclined to blame the fact Sugar and June also had the hots for each other and passed these destructive genes on to these losers but whatever it is they're just annoyingly into each other.

Now I'm not gonna lie, I did almost waver cause I was like 'man you know what they're second cousins so at the end of the day truly who cares, maybe I should just let them stay together and create one Union super-bebe'.. and then I see this:

In case you can't tell from this amazing screenshot they have ONE BOLT. ONE. ALL THIS DRAMA OVER ONE BOLT ARE YOU KIDDING ME

-What is drama compared to someone you almost desire? -Oh baby, the mediocrity of my passion for you is too much to bear!

-This lukewarm hot tub water is the perfect metaphor for our love.. -Exactly, it's the water of the womb and we all know that's where that sole bolt is even coming from!

UGH. Also man the difference between your noses is UNREAL, now I'm more worried about that if you procreate than the incest.

-Hahahaha, as expected I'm the only one of this trash family that's in a non-disgusting relationship!

Felina no offense but you could afford to add some drama cause you've become boring af.

-People are sick of all this perverted nonsense! They want someone dignified and happily monogamous!

Ya idk sis, I mean look at Barth dislocating his entire spine as we speak:

-I SENSE BETRAYAL AGAIN. WHO DARES CHEAT ON ME NOW

-JIMMY, BACK IN THE ARMS OF MY COUSIN THAT I RIGHTFULLY STOLE YOU FROM. AND TO THINK I WAS GONNA MARRY YOU WHEN I WON THE HEIRSHIP

-You were??

-OF COURSE NOT

Bro I can't, the entire house hates Barth other than Meadow and her billion nice points and Spice who is his childhood bestie. Note that he and Sunset have that goddamn amour fou and are independently becoming un-enemies, which I'm NOT GONNA LET HAPPEN.

-Ok Barth, let's get drunk and make some reckless and sexy decisions!

SUNSET GODDAMMIT IT

-Why do you keep cockblocking us? You know our kids would be hot!

I DONT CARE

-Ya right! Don't act like you haven't thought about it!

IM NOT LISTENING TO THIS

-You know we would produce a hot, psycho turbo-Union! A little Jojo or Jojette, untainted by non-Union DNA, one freakshow to rule them all!! Look into your heart, you know it to be true!!!

ENOUGH, STOP TRYING TO SEDUCE ME WITH THE PROMISE OF COMICALLY INSANE OFFSPRING, SUNSET. EVERYONE FUCK OFF TO BED RIGHT NOW, GOODNIGHT

-AND GOOD MORNING, LOSERS

WTF. Why are you here we've paid our bills!

-BUT YOU HAVEN'T PAID THE INCEST TAX

-OMG THERE'S A FIRE🌞

-OMG THE REPOMAN IS HERE TO TAKE OUR SHIT

-OMG THE STREAKER KILLED OUR FISH

What??

-I JUST DON'T WANNA ADMIT IM STILL CRYING OVER BARTHOLOMEW

NOOOO NOT OUR BEAR STATUE WE'VE HAD IT SINCE GENERATION 1! PLEASE JUST TAKE ONE OF THE KIDS INSTEAD

-YOU SHOULD HAVE PAID YOUR BILLS

WE FUCKING DID

-PLEASURE DOING BUSINESS WITH YOU FLOPS

FUCK YOU, REPOMAN, WE'RE NOT FLOPS

-WAAAAAAAAH I CAN'T BELIEVE HE TOOK OUR BEAR

Oh great, now half these flops are in aspiration failure, that's just what the doctor ordered.

-OMG AND NOW THE OTHER PLANT IS ON FIRE

BRO WTF IS HAPPENING WE'RE CURSED

-WE ARE AND WE ALL KNOW WHO'S TO BLAME

-HE'S BEEN BAD LUCK SINCE HE WAS BORN

-Can you harpies take this somewhere else, I'm trying to get high here!

-KILL HIM

OK NO. No one's killing anyone, we're NOT cursed, ok?

-We're broke, afflicted with a bills glitch, fires keep starting and half the house is in aspiration failure!

Well let's be real, the broke part is on you.

-US??

You idiots are averaging a D each semester because you're too busy fucking each other, beating each other up or both..

..I mean freaking Jimmy is on academic probation, I have never gotten this before in all the years I've played this game, this is the worst college run of all time.

-WHAT IS YOUR POINT

My point is the bar is in hell so let's just get out of this run alive, ok? Now you kids make nice!

-Well, Failina, now that I'm looking at you up close I guess putting lipstick on a pig does work sometimes.

-For my next move, I'll shove my queen in your other eyehole.

See, now isn't this nice? And I think I figured out what caused the bills thing so everything should be fine now..

-THINK AGAIN BITCH

OH FFS

-I'M HERE TO FREE THIS NEIGHBORHOOD FROM YOUR TERRIBLE SPOKEN WORD POETRY

Ok you know what I'm actually fine with that one, take it- Um do I hear hearts??

UH WHAT????

-THAT'S RIGHT IM IN LOVE WITH KEA FOR NO CLEAR REASON

WTF

-We've been friends for a long time-

You have?? Man I really need to pay more attention around here.

-Yes well you can't help being useless!

Very true! Well please, continue, let me just call someone over-

-YOU LEFT THE HOT TUB OF LUKEWARM LOVE TO CHEAT ON ME???

Man I know, it's so terrible! Anyway-

-HOW DARE YOU BE UPSET WITH ME FOR CHEATING ON YOU

CYAN WTF LOL

-YASSSS BEAT HIS ASS UP BABE HE DESERVES IT

DOES HE?? Cyan you are one crazy bitch, I love it.

-I take after my mom! :D

Which one, they're both insane! :D

-What's it take to get your number? What's it take to bring you home? Hurry up, it's time for supper, order up, I'm hot to go🎵

Alright well Chapell karaoke seals it, Kea, welcome to the family!

-You mean it this time right, you won't fuck me over again like when I was engaged to Sophito?

LOL I forgot about that but no I'm certain this one is gonna work out, unless crazy ass Cyan goes back to one of her cousins

-What?

I said start planning the wedding!

[gojoshooter]

Hi!! Thanks sm for your response! I'm glad you take requests since I'm such a fan of your work!

I was thinking about a scenario wherein Gojo Satoru always had the impression that reader hated his guts because they always bicker even at the pettiest of things. But one day, Satoru overhears reader gushing about having a crush on him (reader could be talking to Geto/Shoko/both etc) and they keep rambling about how much they like him and all. Meanwhile, Satoru's just 🧍‍♂️leaning by the doorframe with the biggest smug grin on his face (he actually secretly likes reader back). How it ends is entirely up to you if you'd take this request hehe

Just basically lots of fluff and the occasional comedy lol thanks so much for listening to my rambling (I just love him sm)

hi, thank you for the praise robynn! ’m so glad to know my works interest you, luv u & here's your req hc <3

Deer caught in Headlights : Gojo

Pairing : frenemy!gojo x highschool!y/n

A/N : here's another set of hcs about gojo bullying you like the jerk he is. ps. i tried to be serious

WARNINGS : gojo is a tease, but so are you

“i don't like him like that. absolutely fucking not, what the hell?” you whisper, mouth stuffed with icecream in the comfy bed of Shoko's room as Geto copied her bored expression—sitting & listening to your endless rambles on why you're not attracted to Satoru like that

seriously, they've lost the count of reasons why you gradually became a Satoru simp but oh have you

“goddammit! i hate him, i hate him and his dumb voice and his stupid muscles and his awfully attractive face! it's all on my desserts he ate to look li-... Geto, are you sleeping?”

you stop your very important discourse to give the best friend of your enemy & your thought dump a pointed look

“no, please keep talking. i only yawn when i'm super fascinated”

says him, that talk-back king of a bitch you're sure he got that from is best friend

he lies down the bed with a soft huff and if he notices Satoru’s tall presence by the door, he does nothing—nothing but a hint of evil amusement making his lips curve into a subtle smile to the thought of your pathetically obvious crush being exposed

he does nothing to stop you who's back faced the door, nothing when his best friend approached slowly with his hands inside his sweatpants as your embarrassing tirade continued

“-and Shoko, trust me. I'd have let him known about his ridiculous eyes that i dreamt last night if he wasn't such a jerk like h-”

“...what about my eyes?”

you flinch... no, no no no, fuck. even Shoko burst out at your comical whip of the head

with a stifling laugh that she tried to fight so hard, Shoko gets out along with Geto who may have wanted to stay just to watch the drama commence

“um-” you almost landed face first trying to drag your panicked little self out of bed as the slanting white brows raised at you amusingly

“mhm, and you hate these stupid muscles” “no! i mean- yes, n-”

“y/n, i expected more”

god fucking damn, what was his cursed technique? to flatter people? you pulled a passive-aggressive face in defence of your shattering pride, and begin “h-how long have you been standing there?”

Gojo answered your question with the teasing smile on his face, and he chuckled before asking with a tilt of his head to watch your reaction “correct me if i've been reading this all wrong but.... you like me”

your figure shrinks at the claim and that definitely satisfied Gojo, his breathy hum confirming it further

“mm?” he hums slowly, as if coaxing a child to admit their wrong doings “cat got your tongue y/n?” just say it, say it, say it. you breath in.

“i like you” “say that again” “...i like you”

you know he would not let you live that down even if you were to end up having kids—but fuck that, you thought, the cat's out of the bag anyway.

“dunno i had such a weird taste in men but i just really enjoy spending my time with you and you've really become someone special to me and-”

“don't even tell me, i already know. i just needed to get that out.” he knows he shouldn't be mean, not when he feels the same about you, but can he help his obsession with your flustered red mess of a face?

you know he's trying too hard to tease you. cruel fucking bastard. “wait until i kill you”

“yeah?~ what're you trying here? to make this seem like a lovers' quarrel?” he chuckles, prolly wants to redden your puffy cheeks a little more before giving in.

“i'll punch that smirk off your face, Satoru!” “try me, i dont need to try getting you on your knees before me”

“oh, do you think of that image a lot?” you say lifting an eyebrow, perfect chance to make him taste his own medicine.

oh. Gojo blushed.

“w-well, what i think is... maybe our feelings are mutual” says after clearing his throat as he slowly regains his composure. “i have this weird feeling when i'm with you, can't explain it, but it's a good feeling...”

your usual instinct of fighting began to fade at his words as both of you stood in middle of the room in an awkward state, trying to fight the urge to smile

“hah, can't believe i never noticed it before, but you're kinda hot when you're angry. maybe that's why i loved pissing you off”

yes, that's when Gojo managed to break your last straw and make you blush at the same time “well then, take this!” his infinity stopped your little punch

“meanie!” he chuckles again, holding your fist softly

“okay little baby, no sulking. if a punch makes you feel better you can punch me. lightly.” he said in his silvery voice as he turned his infinity off, kissing you nice and soft...

(you ignored his last word)

A/N : i hope people this is one ^-^ i personally enjoyed this heheskks likes & reblogs are appreciated! ♡

Tags : @robynnnhooddd @nanamikentoseyebags @luckimoon @dazailover1900 @jspenft @tamakin7 @daquila @jkhlhjkjkjhkl @horrendous-introvert

[elysiaheaven]

Hi! I love your writing! I don’t know if you’re accepting requests but if you are could you do Ronin with a person who has little care for their safety? If you could put some hurt/comfort I would love that! I hope you Have amazing day/night and also if you don’t want to do this that is totally fine!

Ronin’s used to chaos, recklessness, and flirting with death—but when you take it too far, even his patience starts to crack. To him, it’s one thing to risk it all when you have a plan, but watching you carelessly walk into harm’s way? It feels like he’s losing control—and that terrifies him in ways he won’t easily admit. He loves you, and if there’s one thing Ronin hates more than boredom, it’s the thought of you slipping through his fingers into danger

The first time you brush off an injury—be it from a careless accident or something serious—Ronin tries to laugh it off. "You’re a real piece of work, huh? You think you’re invincible or just trying to give me a heart attack?"

But the more it happens, the more his frustration builds. You keep treating your safety like it doesn’t matter, and it eats at him because you matter to him. He hates the way it makes his stomach twist. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to end up in a body bag?"

The moment you stumble through the door, blood trickling from a wound or holding yourself awkwardly from some fall, Ronin’s world narrows. All the jokes vanish from his face. "Don’t say a word." He’s already grabbing a first aid kit or calling someone—angry, but his hands are steady.

His touch is firm but careful as he patches you up, pressing just hard enough to make you hiss. "Hurts, doesn’t it? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before throwing yourself into traffic, yeah?" But there’s fear laced beneath the sarcasm—he’s barely holding it together.

Once you’re bandaged, the anger fades into exhaustion. He drags you to the couch or bed, plopping down next to you and forcing you to lie still. "You don’t get to move, got it? Not until I say."

His arm snakes around you, pulling you close. It’s not just for you—it’s for him too. He needs to feel you breathing, solid and alive beneath him. He buries his face in your hair, mumbling, "If you pull that stunt again, I swear to God…" But his voice cracks ever so slightly.

Ronin starts paying closer attention to the little things—how fast you walk, the situations you throw yourself into, even the way you talk about danger so nonchalantly. He hates the way it makes his skin crawl. "You're reckless, babe, but I'm not about to let you get yourself killed."

If you refuse to take care of yourself, he’ll do it for you. He makes sure you eat, sleep, and wear proper gear when it matters—even if he has to play it off as a joke. "Yeah, yeah. You can hate me all you want. But at least you'll still be alive to do it."

One day, the recklessness catches up to you—maybe it’s a bad fall or an injury that scares even you. You’re lying there, pain flooding your senses, and for once, you can’t make light of it. That’s when Ronin snaps. "See? This is what I’ve been talking about! Goddammit, Y/N, I—" He stops himself, teeth clenched. It hurts him more than you realize.

But he doesn’t leave you. He scoops you into his arms, cradling you close as if holding you together will keep the world from breaking apart. "You scared me, dumbass. Don’t ever do that to me again."

Ronin doesn’t say much after the storm passes—words aren’t really his thing. Instead, he stays close, always touching you in some way. A hand on your shoulder, an arm around your waist—anything to remind both of you that you’re still here.

On bad days, when the guilt sinks in and you feel like you’ve disappointed him, he notices. He tilts your chin up with a smirk. "Listen, you're mine, okay? That means no dying without my permission." There’s a flicker of genuine affection in his voice, soft and sharp all at once.

Ronin knows he can’t force you to change overnight. You’re a storm, wild and untamed—and part of him loves you for that. But he’ll drag you, kicking and screaming, into finding a little balance. "If you’re gonna be a daredevil, at least let me be there to catch you, yeah?"

In return, you learn to take a few precautions—not for yourself, but for him. Because if there’s one thing you know, it’s that Ronin needs you just as much as you need him.

Ronin’s love is chaotic, controlling, and just a little suffocating. But beneath the snark and obsession lies a fierce need to keep you alive—because, without you, he’d fall apart. "You’ve made it this far, babe. You’re not getting rid of me that easy."

And when you finally start to care a little more about your own safety—not just for yourself, but for him—he knows that, in his own twisted way, he’s won. Because you’re still here, and as long as you are, that’s all that matters.

[prentissluvr]

two mugs, half empty — luke alvez

pairing : luke alvez x bau!gn!reader (can be read as platonic or romantic) ➖⟢ genre : hurt/comfort ➖⟢ cw : feelings of guilt and shame, nightmare mentions, talk of canon typical violence, crying ➖⟢ wc : 2.8K

“you look like hell.”

“wow, thank you, luke. way to compliment somebody,” you deadpan, even though he said it with a voice full of empathy. he gives you a good-natured roll of his eyes before his face returns to that concerned look you opened your apartment door to.

“but seriously, did you sleep at all over the weekend?” you want to hate how much he cares about you, but the sincerity of his voice has you nearly ready to cave. 

“come in,” you offer, completely ignoring his question because the answer is “no, not really.” he raises his eyebrows at your lack of response, but steps in after you anyways. he can guess the answer well enough from the exhaustion evident in your whole figure.

you sit down with him in the kitchen, grabbing him a glass of water before he can say no to it. his gaze on you is heavy, but you ignore it in favor of examining the wood of the table in front of you. since you won’t say anything, he goes first.

“i came to check on you,” he states the obvious, “i’m– we’re kinda worried about you, you know? like, you haven’t responded to any of my texts all day and you never call in sick, even when you probably should, so i figured you’d probably be bedridden for you to make the choice to stay home.” he pauses for a long moment, as if inviting for you to explain why you’re, in fact, not bedridden, and not really physically sick at all. you don’t say a word. “so,” he prompts, “what’s up? why’d you turn down drinks with the rest of the team on saturday? kinda feels like you’re avoiding us.”

“i am avoiding you guys,” your voice comes out far quieter than you intended. you had wanted to sound nonchalant, and all you got was exhaustion. you sigh before continuing, “because you’re profilers and i don’t want to talk about it.” he sighs too.

“if it’s so bad that you went to the lengths to call off sick from work to avoid talking about it, it seems to me like it’s something you should talk about.”

you turn your head even further from him because you know he’s right. you’ve been holed up in your apartment, agonizing over what happened three nights ago, desperate to scream and cry about it to someone else. god knows you’ve done enough of that with yourself, but you’re reverting to old habits and it feels like you’re back to only knowing how to avoid, avoid, and keep avoiding.

“listen, i don’t want to push you, but i need you to know that i’m here for you.” his hand hovers over yours for a moment, silently asking permission before gently wrapping his fingers around yours. you clench your jaw and bite the inside of your cheek to keep tears from forming in your eyes. honestly, you didn’t think you could produce anymore, but here you are, trying not to cry in front of your coworker turned close friend whom you’ve probably upset by ignoring him.

luke gains a little bit of hope when you squeeze his hand. he squeezes back, hoping you feel the love and care that he puts into it. you do, and it doesn’t help your case with the whole crying ordeal.

“thanks,” you whisper. the thickness in your voice completely gives you away. tilting your head up to try to stop the flow of tears is plain old silly at this point, and he watches with a weight heavy on his heart as they overflow and fall down your cheeks. the tears catch in the light of the only lamp that’s turned on in the room. “fuck. goddammit,” you curse through the tears, well aware they won’t stop anytime soon. “luke,” you cry.

“i’m here,” he replies so earnestly without missing a beat that you begin to cry harder. that’s the last straw for him. quickly, he stands and wraps you up in his arms without a second thought. with you sitting, your face barely reaches his chest, and your arms reach around his lower torso. he’s got one hand rubbing up and down your back, the other cradling the back of your head into him. the way you hold onto him is desperate and breaks his heart, but he’s glad to give you something that you so clearly need. comfort.

“i–,” you try to explain, but you can’t get anywhere before choking on your own sobs.

“shhh, it’s okay. just let it out. i’m not going anywhere.” and he sticks to that promise, standing strong and unwavering, even after your tears run out and you can’t find it in yourself to pull away from him just yet. he doesn’t force a thing, just strokes the back of your head gently as a silent reminder that he’s there.

when you finally pull away, it’s only by a few inches, and he keeps his hands right where they are. he looks down at your face as you stare at the maroon fabric of his shirt and the tear stain you left behind. slowly, as if to not startle you, he bends down to be closer to your level. at first, you avoid meeting his eyes, but when the hand on your shoulder shifts up to your cheek and he gently wipes at the leftover tears, you let your gaze meet his. he gives you a smile, small and comforting, before speaking softly.

“i’m gonna make you some tea, alright?”

when you nod, his hands slide away from you, hesitant to let you go. your gaze follows his form as he turns and walks to the counter behind you, first grabbing your favorite mug from the cabinet and taking the liberty to grab one for himself too. then he’s at the pantry for the tea bags and he can feel your eyes on him. once the tea bags are on the counter, he’s by your side again. he gives you another soft smile as he grips the sides of your chair and turns it and you to face the counter. somehow luke just knows that him staying in your line of sight is a comfort to you, proof that he’s right there. he doesn’t want you to have to strain your neck in order to feel safe.

his silence as he fills and turns on the kettle, then sits back down beside you to wait for it to boil is a comfort too. it makes a difference that he’s not making you explain anything.

with him, the passage of time isn’t so horrible, and it’s easy to wait for the tea to be ready. when he sets the mug down in front of you, he tells you to be careful since it’s hot, even though you already know it. that’s when you make the decision that you will tell him what’s kept you holed up in your apartment for three days straight, what made you cry into his arms and skip work today.

it takes you four minutes of failed attempts to open your mouth and force a sound out of your throat before you finally get any words out. four minutes of sipping tea and thinking about how to start or how grateful you are that he’s here.

first comes a big, deep breath and another long moment of quiet. and then you realize you can’t just get into you, so you do your best and start by skirting around the actual problem.

“i know this job–” you have to clear your throat, “i know this job is really hard.” that sentence is kind of stupid purely because of how obvious it is, but you’ve at least started to tell him what this is all about. “and we’ve all learned ways to cope with that. i just– the way that, uh,” you pause to try and collect yourself a bit, but it does nothing to keep your voice from getting quiet, “the way that this last case ended? it, um, it…” suddenly you’re unsure what to even say. luke places his hand over your own, easing its shaking. you take another deep breath.”i can’t– i can’t get it out of my head. i can’t get her dead body out of my head and i can’t shake the feeling that it’s my fault.” 

he’s about to say something, assure you that it absolutely was not your fault, but then everything comes tumbling out.

“i know, logically, technically, that it’s not. i know that, i’ve rationalized this whole thing in my head, even out loud, over and over and over again for the past three days. i know, we didn’t profile him to be so paranoid. i played into his narcissism like i was supposed to, like anyone of us would have, but fuck! it was still my words that set him off, the shit i said got a bullet through her brain.” he squeezes your hand in support. “and when i wake up from the nightmares, i can still hear her whimpers as he held her at gunpoint, even worse, arguably, is her mom begging me to bring her home alive that same morning. you know what i told her? that we were doing everything we could to find her and bring her back, i promised.” the tears start up again. “i told her not to give up hope because the people i work with are incredibly good at their jobs. then i see her sobbing in the corner of the police station after rossi told her that her daughter was fucking dead. and you know what i fucking did? i put my head down and walked in the opposite direction with the excuse that reid could use some help taking down the evidence board.” 

your voice gets even shakier and the furrow in his worried brow deepens as you continue talking. “and i’m so ashamed, i’m so fucking ashamed, luke. i got her daughter killed and i couldn’t even tell her that–” a sob cuts you off, “that i’m sorry,” you cry. “i couldn’t face her. i couldn’t bear to see her crying about it or try and comfort her about it because i was too goddamn guilty to even look her in the eye. and now i see her and her dead daughter everytime i close my eyes.”

the silence after that is colossally heavy. to hear his softest voice calling your name as you stare into your half empty mug is enough to send more tears rushing down your cheeks. he sounds so heartbroken for you, like even he’s choked up by hearing your longwinded confession.

the way he moves is both careful and purposeful as he stands and urges you back into his embrace. this time your crying is quiet, just tears without sobs because you don’t have that left in you. it’s more short lived because it seems like your body’s finally run out of tears to give too. with one side of your face pressed against his shirt and his hands holding you there, it does feel a bit easier to breathe.

when he starts to talk, his voice is as soft as it has been all night. “i don’t want to tell you to just not feel ashamed or guilty. i wish you wouldn’t have to feel that way, really. but i want you to know that i understand. i don’t want to invalidate those things because they are real and they hurt and i understand why you’re feeling them. but it is not your fault. not for one second is it your fault. i’m sure you’ve reminded yourself this already, but we can never forget that it is only ever the fault of the people who pull the trigger on innocent lives.” 

you nod because he’s right, you’ve told yourself that many times. but you realize it makes a difference to hear these things out of his mouth, not just from your mind that was only desperate to ease your guilt. you suppose that’s what he wants too, but it’s somehow better.

he pulls away from you, and positions the chairs so that you’re sitting knee to knee as he holds both of your hands in his. he looks you in the eye as he speaks, every ounce of sincerity visible in his face and easy to hear in his voice.

“and we just can’t be perfect, we can’t be expected to be everything for everyone every time. dealing with family members who have lost their loved ones is one of, if not the, hardest thing that we have to do for this job. rossi was there for her this time, and it’s okay if it was too hard for you. what you did is completely understandable and completely okay. throughout this whole case, you followed procedure and you followed the profile. we all did. so if any of us stood where you did, with the mother and with the unsub, the same exact same thing could have happened. would you blame me for it if i were in your place?” he gently wipes a stray tear from your cheek. 

slowly, with his hand still cupping your face, you shake your head. “and would you forgive me for it?” it takes you a long moment of holding back more cries to answer, silently and slowly again. up and down, just once, you nod your head.

“there’s your answer. you’re allowed to not blame yourself and you’re allowed to forgive yourself. you are allowed to feel okay because we can’t fix this world, but we are making it better and we certainly deserve our own happiness. there will always be people who die and the people they leave behind. we just have to keep going because we are still saving lives. even more, our lives deserve to be protected as much as anyone else’s. we do that by allowing ourselves happiness, a life outside of all of the pain and gore and monsters of the world we work in. i’m sorry, and the things i say can’t make this all just go away. but i’m here for you and i think that being reminded of these things is a must for all of us. today’s one of those days where you deserve to be reminded.”

you don’t even think you could really cry again, even if you wanted to, but you certainly feel like it. only this time, it’s out of relief. your guilty conscience still tries to fight with his words, but the part of you that knows he’s right is holding onto his comfort with all it’s got and it’s making you want to burst into tears again. being reminded of your right to let it go is something you’ve needed, not just for this case, but for months. you didn’t even realize, but you’ve holding onto little things here and there and letting it build up until it all blew up in your face last friday night. so to let that all out and feel comforted is a relief far stronger than anything you’ve felt before.

“thank you.” your voice is back at a whisper, but you hope he can hear how much you mean it. you think he does when he smiles.

“of course. you’ll always have me, and you have everyone else on the team too, you know that.”

you nod and do your best to smile back. “thank you,” you repeat. you don’t even know what else to say. “and um, i’m always here for you too, luke. you know, just when i’m not a complete hot mess.” the lighter tone in your voice as you attempt a joke is luke’s relief, the relief that you’re on the way to feeling better.

“thanks,” he chuckles lightly. the sound makes you glad.

“hey luke?”

“yeah?” he replied in earnest, eager to give.

“can we order some thai food and watch movies until we fall asleep on the couch?”

that really makes him happy, and he grins like he always does to show it. “you know it.” so, he buys you food and tells you to pick all the movies. he lets you lean on him when you get tired, then carries you to bed and tucks you in when you fall asleep halfway through the first film. he stalls in your room by fixing the hair the falls onto your face and pressing a light kiss to your forehead. then he leaves the door cracked, just in case, and takes a while to fall asleep on your couch after putting the leftovers in the fridge. he cries a little, because he hates that it’s so hard for you, and it’s hard for him too. 

at the end of the day though, he’s just glad you’ll be okay.

[propepsi]

Okay. Listen up Weezer community. Why do you guys hate literally every Weezer album there is? This fanbase is so divided it's actually insane. If you say you like an album, somebody's gonna tell you how much they hate it. If you say you hate an album, somebody's gonna come after you and call it a masterpiece. I think the only exception to that is the blue album because how do you hate blue. That being said, here are my opinions:

I like Raditude. It's fun and silly and a real connection to youth. Plus, Put Me Back Together is a hidden gem and y'all are SLEEPING on it. (It's my favorite song so if you haven't heard it, please give it a listen.) Also, I hope you realize that Can't Stop Partying is SATIRE and that Rivers didn't even write those lyrics; they were given to him.

Pinkerton is fucking weird, but it's also a good album. Across The Sea is diabolical, but everything else on that album is pretty great, weird as it is. (Hell, even Across The Sea has a good sound if you ignore the premise and read a little deeper into it.) Pinkerton was an essential album. It reflects Rivers' depression at the time after the release of Blue, which was misinterpreted by the audience at the time. The whole album is about the deeper, darker, more honest parts of himself, and I appreciate that about this album.

Red is a fantastic album, and y'all need to give some love to The Spider. That song is wonderful. Red actually might be my favorite Weezer album of all time. Cold Dark World is kinda trashy, but it has a good sound. Plus: Scott Shriner has a kickass voice and I will be hearing nothing else. Also, Automatic isn't even close to being bad. Y'all are just weird.

Green is also a fantastic album. It is simple and somewhat pop-y, but goddammit it's a good album. The lyrics may be a little in-genuine, but they're still Rivers, and they're not devoid of feeling like every says. Emphasis on O' Girlfriend.

Blue is objectively fantastic, but that's not really controversial. I don't think I can name a time I've come across an avid hater of blue. It's their first album, so even if you don't like it, you just have to respect it. Also: Buddy Holly is a good song. Deal with it. Also, No One Else is a satire piece.

Make Believe is NOT as bad as y'all say it is. I've edited this post, and before I said that Beverly Hills was the only Weezer song I didn't like, but that the rest of the songs were really good. I've changed my mind. I don't know if it's bias or not, but after more listens, Beverly Hills has actually grown on me. I think this album is essential especially because of Pardon Me, a song in which Rivers gives his heartfelt apology for hurting those around him in order to be a 'better rockstar.' Also, Haunt You Every Day is a fantastic track.

Those are my strongest Weezer opinions laid out. I really wanted to voice some of my positive beliefs to spread around the joy of Weezer's music instead of trying to hate. But, all in all, we all have the right to our own opinion. Although this fanbase might not agree on everything, at the end of the day we all know what their best album is, and that is Christmas with Weezer.

[ssentimentals]

Requests are open!

Hello sweets! 💜i haven't opened my requests in a while, so here we go :) thank you, as always, for liking/reblogging my posts, love you all immensely for that 💜

How it works: send a request with your character of choice from Seventeen group/F1 drivers and a prompt from the list bellow and i'll write it!

Notice: these will not be long fics, just little drabbles. once the prompt has been used it'll be crossed off. <3 i really don't want any repetitions, so please if you're requesting on anon don't disappear, re-send the request with something else in case i'll be letting you know that it was used already :)

꧁༺ 𝓕𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯/𝓢𝓸𝓯𝓽 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓼 ༻꧂

"You can call me whenever you want, even if you don't have a reason to."

"Quite smiling at me, I can't stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that."

"Tell me you love me."

"Can you read to me?"

"I need to go but- one more kiss."

"I like when you say my name like that."

"Your eyes are like doves, my darling."

"If the whole world was watching, I'd still dance with you."

"I love you." "Say it again." "I love you."

"You're really fucking cute when you are jealous."

"Shes not yours."

"I love your bedhead."

"You're mine."

"Why are you on the table?". "A better view of life..". "Where is the spider?". "....By the door...."

"Do you like my new dress/suit?"

"Whats on your mind? I want to listen."

"You can call me whenever you want, even if you don't have a reason to."

"I love you're lips." "Why don't you kiss them then?"

"You're utterly gorgeous, I can't stop looking at you."

"I can't live without you, darling."

"Between ice cream and you, you might be my favorite."

"You're so damn beautiful, baby. I cant believe your all fucking mine."

"You are my new pillow."

"You have a beautiful soul."

"You're enough. You are more than enough."

"I don't understand, but i believe you."

"Is that my shirt?"

"Look at you, so small and cute :3" "Shut the hell up."

"If i ever lost you, I'd fall apart."

"You own my heart."

"Dance with me."

"Can i play with your hair?"

"You ramble and its adorable."

"Give. Me. The. Remote."

"You're a woman, that alone makes you magic."

"You're the only one who calls me that. Its kinda cute."

"Its not a double date, we're just third and fourth wheeling."

"Don't you dare throw that snowba-Goddammit!"

"Should i stop talking?". "Don't, your voice is very soothing."

"You say she/he hung the moon, I say she/he hung the galaxy."

ʜᴜʀᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛs

"Every time i see you, I feel more alone."

"I'm not going to kiss you, you broke my heart."

"Where were you when I needed you most?"

"I trusted you. With everything."

"I loved you, I really did."

"It doesn't matter what i want."

"Did you really think you'd get a second chance?"

"Cant i come with you?". "You know you can't."

"I know i shouldn't be here."

"You shouldn't have come."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"I don't hate you..". "I know sweetheart."

"I didn't say I don't love you!". "Well you certainly didn't say it back."

"You see them they way I see you."

"That hurt you son of a bitch..."

"I have a right to be angry."

"I thought you were dead."

"You used me, just like everyone else."

"That was never my intention, Y/n.".

"Stop lying to my face."

"Are you ashamed of me?"

"Why are you being like this?"

"Don't shut me out."

"Why wont it just stop?"

"Just talk to me."

"I would give up everything for you, my love, but I shouldn't have to."

"You're late."

"I love the way you hate me."

"Sorry doesn't fix everything."

"You could have died!". "I didn't-". "Well you were pretty fucking close."

"You're not a bad guy."

"Isn't it enough yet?"

"I woke up, and you were gone."

"Those things you said yesterday....Did you mean them?"

"I'm not sure how many coffees it takes for me to be happy, but so far, its not twelve."

"Just admit I'm right."

"Just admit you're wrong."

"Don't yell at me."

"That wasn't what i asked."

"Please don't make me answer that..."

𝙎𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨

"Make me."

"Can I sit in your lap?"

"Say the word and I'm yours."

"We have to make this quick."

"Does it make you nervous when I stare?"

"...Or we could just get naked?"

"You either shut up, or I make you."

"Don't give me that look."

"First one to make a noise losses."

"Close the door."

"Wait your turn, love."

"Behave."

"Ngl, that turned me on."

"Come here."

"Oh really?"

"I only want to please you."

"Again."

"You have 5 seconds to get upstairs."

"Is there a reason why you are naked in my bed?"

"Stop moving."

"You could be wearing a trash bag, and I'd still want you."

"Thought we could do a little more than just kissing."

"Look me in the eyes."

"Give me your hands."

"Sit down. Now."

"I think we should have another."

"Take it off."

"You are so perfect."

"More."

"Hold still."

"This is new."

"Lay back.''

"Eyes on me."

"You belong to me."

"Bite me.". "Don't tempt me sweetheart."

"Fuck." "Already did that."

"Watch your tone."

"Since it's you, Ill let it go...Just this once, understand?"

"You think you can run that pretty little mouth of yours whenever you want?!"

"Yell at me again, and Ill give you a reason to scream."