#it probably helped that I was listening to Lana Del Rey

[fishii-writes]

salvatore - sae itoshi

paring: sae x fem!reader

psst, look out for @/saioratral's version

cw: not proofread, intended lowercase, swearing!!, kaiser n reader are besties, reader is implied to be wearing a bikini/top with string at the back, slight horror themes, imagine i meant the description in a dandadan "acrobatic silky" way :3, no romance. i'd call this angst even, basically nearly 2.2k words of pain for reader, sae's lines are written in red, lyrics are in pink.

note: this includes themes of (in a way/implied) toxic sae. there's derealization themes in this, and swearing. there's a somewhat graphic? description of sae's face in this, and i want you to click off now if things like dandadan's art scare you. this isn't a very good horror/thriller fic but its certainly not smth i want anyone to be affected by. sae is kinda a ghost/hallucination ig. a bad memory.

a/n: wrote this in one sitting HELP. not my usual style. enjooyyy <3333 pls lmk how the "horror" went cus i wanna write more stuff like this :3 theres a few direct references of the song salvatore in this ;)

word count: 2190

listened to salvatore by lana del rey on repeat for this <3

on. off. on. off.

the lights flicker, it’s so annoying. how are you meant to read beside the pool if the stupid light keeps turning on and off?!

well, to be fair. it’s nearly midnight and you’re sitting beside the pool of your best friend’s house. its like a cliché scene from some music video, and its definitely not as aesthetic as it looks. its way too hot for sitting outside at night. it’s hot and it’s dark, no one’s gonna see you. so you pull off your shirt. if anyone does happen to be outside this late at night, it should be considered a blessing to see you. hah, losers.

you had a swimsuit under it since you and your best friend would regularly take late night swims when you both would stay up.

ah, right. said best friend’s name wasn’t ever dropped.

cue to michael kaiser. yeah, your best friend is crazy rich and. well, crazy.

thankfully, he’s asleep in his room right now. its funny, you can’t sleep at a sleepover. since he has a week break off of soccer, he invited you over to stay. for the whole week. today is day two, and you already miss home. sure, you missed your ever busy best friend. but your bed at home… it calls you…

hey, at least you’re getting pampered and getting princess treatment from your best friend.

so, another few minutes pass. its even hotter with just a swimsuit’s top on, what on earth?? you wait a few more minutes, fanning your face with your hands in hopes to cool off. but it seems not. you open your book from where you left off, the words still too dimmed since the light keeps flickering.

fuck it, you think. i’ll just listen to music. so you pull out your phone, lowering the volume as to not wake up michael in his room. you slip off your shorts, now sitting on the seat beside the pool in just your swimsuit. the air’s stuffy in a way, but a cool breeze almost flirts with your hair when a rush hits your face.

perfect.

you turn up the volume just a bit, slipping into the pool by the ledge as quietly as you can. the cold water embraces every inch of your skin, from the tips of your toes to forming endearing rings around your thighs. it feels like a cold yet comforting hug around your waist, and like a kiss to the fabric of your swimsuit when it soaks through.

it’s just perfect.

you feel yourself find comfort in the cold water. it’s summer and stinking hot. you’ll probably be out here a while, so you let your hair soak itself in the water, just like your swimsuit. you cross your arms over the ledge, pulling yourself up a bit too bring your phone close. the screen is just barely readable, your phone’s battery is about to die. you sigh, opening spotify and pressing the shuffle button twice. there, smart shuffle. now you’ll have some form of anticipation. you place your phone down a safe distance from the ledge, pressing skip on the dim screen and turning it off. however long the battery lasts is okay, you’ll be entertained for so long.

a song you can’t remember the name of plays. it has a slow-ish opening, something you’d expect to have stuck in your head when you see a hot guy walk past. or when you suddenly get that surge of confidence, of that feeling when you feel, no, know, you’re attractive.

and that’s what the opening lines of the song make you feel.

you turn to face away from the ledge, your back leaning against the cold tiles as a sigh escapes your lips. a relaxed sigh. a somewhat bored sigh. but a content one, to say the least.

“i adore you, can’t you see? you’re meant for me~”

the song hits close to home, a little too close.

ah, that’s right. the cold tiles against your back are suddenly unwelcoming, its like this massive pool is boxing you in. what’s the feeling? the cold water isn’t nice anymore, its like its throwing insults at you for being in it. the embrace around your legs and waist isn’t loving anymore, its threatening.

what is this feeling??

your breath hitches, then quickens.

in, out. in, out. in-out-in-out-in-out-in-

you hyperventilate in the cold water, the ledges of the cold, dark pool seemingly boxing you in. its all in your head, you try reminding yourself. but it doesn’t work. tch, when have you ever listened to yourself, anyways?

you turn to try pulling yourself over the ledge and getting out the pool, but your hands are shaking and obviously wet. tears fill to the brim of your eyes, both of frustration and fear.

you’re alone. that’s right, you miss him.

you desperately try using your foot against the tiles of the interior of the pool, to give yourself a boost out of the dark sea. but your attempts are in vain, how stupid. stop thinking like that! its just like him!

the song continues playing, almost like its mocking your futile attempts to escape this forsaken pool.

“catch me if you can, working on my tan~”

shut up! you trying pushing yourself onto the ledge again, it works! and then you slip back down the slippery tiles. well, not before you hit your chin on the ledge. you whine out in pain, forgetting to be quiet. a panic attack is the last thing you want in a pool, in the dark and alone.

okay. try controlling your breathing. in for five seconds, out for seven. you try. but your breath hitches again. you cough out, shaky hands letting go of the ledge to cover your mouth in hopes to muffle the sound.

bad idea.

you lose your footing and can’t grab on in time, to really anything. despite being a suitable height for the depth of the pool on your chosen side, your head goes under the water for a few seconds.

you force one eye open the smallest bit, stretching your arm out to grab the ledge. the tips of your fingers just barely grasp the sharp ledge, pulling your head out of the dark void of horrors.

you gasp out for air, coughing between each attempt for your lungs

to produce an action similar to that of blowing up a balloon.

its a good thing you closed the door as much as you could before sneaking to sit beside the pool, otherwise, michael would’ve heard you. you didn’t lock it, though, so there was a barely one millimetre gap.

you desperately try boosting yourself up just a bit once more, your tired body just barely forcing you up. you throw your arms over the ledge, crossing them over each other like you would cross them over your chest.

finally, you’re stable enough to keep your head above the water. your breathing also stabilises a bit, you can finally hear what song spotify has decided to play for you.

“puttin’ on my music, while i’m watchin’ the boys~”

you lightly, almost emptily laugh. like, what boys? he ignored your confession years ago, no more boys are worth looking for. with music dedicated to them, at that.

“that’s funny. more like music while i’m watchin’ the girls.” you hear a voice. not just any voice, a voice that pangs your heart. a voice that makes it feel like your lungs are filled with chlorine water again. a voice that cuts your fingers a hundred times worse than the ledge of the pool. a voice that fucks your mind over.

“s-sae…” you internally curse yourself for stuttering. no this can’t be real. why is he here? how?

you don’t turn around. hopefully you’re just talking to yourself. but you feel that same feeling, the one where an unrequited lover’s gaze stares holes into your back. despite being in clothing meant for the pool, your back mostly exposed, it feels like his eyes are undressing you. it’s like his eyes are pulling the string on the back of your swimsuit, its like he wants you to relive the pain of being tossed aside like some useless piece of trash.

“[name].” this is just a nightmare, this is just a nightmare. don’t fall for it. don’t fall for it again. don’t fall for him. don’t fall for him again.

he lightly laughs, it sounds mocking. it sounds like he’s walking closer. shit.

“i see you’ve found some self worth. kind of sad, more pathetic.” he stops. where is he??

you don’t turn your face to look for him, either. it’s not the fear of seeing him, like reviving your feelings or something. its the fear of seeing him in general.

you hear the footsteps along the tiles again, this time closer.

“aw what, no response? you used to talk on and on to me.” his voice is mocking, it’s almost… distorted? like in the slightest, it sounds distorted. it’s scary, like those distorted white faces you’d see on jump scare videos. now the fear’s really caught up to you, you hide your face in the crook of your crossed arms. you can feel goose bumps form on your skin, the cool breeze from earlier no longer endearing. it’s threatening. the hairs on your neck stick up as fast as you used to perk up when sae would see your messages. truly pathetic.

“don’t ignore me, my dear [name]. we have so much to catch up on~” his voice sounds more and more distorted by the second, you hear a crack. as comical as it sounds, the crack sounded like the sound of a neck cracking. in a bad way.

the steps move closer. and then they stop. for a good few minutes, they stop. its quiet.

oh thank god, it was your imagination. you slowly life your head, breathing out a sigh of relief-

then a hand settles on your shoulder. long, cold fingers fiddle with your hair. you slowly, almost like you’re stuck in slow-motion, turn your face.

there, a fully white-faced sae is bend over in the most inhumane, most terrifyingly distorted position you could even being to fathom. not to say just that, his face is elongated in an almost dandadan looking style. horror movies are fucking lies.

“come back home, [name]~” his eyes are black, drooping like liquid. his mouth is black, a drooping smile cursing his once smile-graced lips. his neck is bend in such weird ways, and his hands are elongated and around your neck.

around your fucking neck?! he slightly tilts his head, smile growing and showing his teeth that are weirdly far back in his mouth. not to say this whole situation isn’t weird or scary or any other fucking word other than ‘weird’! nope, nuh uh, no fucking way.

his head moves in an almost mechanical manner. one slight tilt makes a loud crack noise. his hand around your neck begins to squeeze, this isn’t a fucking dream!

you scream out as loud as you can, that one millimetre gap in the door being enough for your scream to reach michael. he open the door loudly, yelling out.

“[name]?! what happened?!” he yells, carefully running over the wet tiles to where you’re choking on your own sobs. he leans over the ledge, wrapping his arms around your waist and shoulders to pull you up. you lay in his lap and in the safety of his arms, sobbing and grabbing onto the back of his shirt like some distorted figure was about to end your fucking life in front of you. distorted figure of your first and only love, that is.

“what happened?” he repeats a bit softer, hugging you close. your hands desperately claw the back of his shirt, eventually falling limp.

he’s gone. sae’s gone. he was never there.

you stay frozen, what do you tell michael?? you don’t wanna worry him. you’re about to come up with a lie, but…

there’s a tap on your shoulder, and you don’t even need to turn around. from the corner of your eye, you see a long, white finger. shit.

it’s gonna be a long night, the tears fill and blur your eyes once more. your phone hadn’t run out of better just yet, so all that had happened in a span of maybe ten minutes.

smart shuffle played the same song again.

“salvatore can wait, now its time to eat, soft ice cream~”

both distorted? sae and the song whisper mockingly in your ears.

aww, and they say romance is dead ;)

taglist: @your-local-reblogging-kazoo , @tofumiarchives ,

@saioratral , @lakeside-paradise , @lumiambrose ,

@sharks-3 , @neoegoistleague + open (send an ask if you'd like to be added! :D)

likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

© fishii-writes 2024

[the1guythere]

Listen I hate Firestar and Spottedleaf as much as the next guy,

But I wrapped up Firestar’s Quest today and that line…

“Sometimes I would give anything for things to be different.”

That line struck a cord and made me understand their relationship plenty

[astraystayyh]

All for you

skz and the vows they'd write for you.

fluff. gn reader. word count-3.9k. listen to video games by lana del rey if you can!!!

a.n: thank you to @a-cute-french-fry and @dorisnumber1fan for brainstorming some of these with me <3 i made myself very delulu with this so ENJOY. happy 3k!!! i love you all muahhh <3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 chan ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

Chan's warm hands are in yours, fingers tangled with one another tightly- like the sturdy roots of an ancient tree.

“Baby,” he calls out softly, and you can already feel tears well up in your eyes at the tenderness in his voice. His thumb reaches out instinctively to wipe the lone tear that managed to escape. His right hand remains on your cheek, cradling it gently.

“Seungmin always liked to joke that I was nearly half-fifty-two. Then half fifty-three on my next birthday,” he starts, as a faint giggle escapes your lips. “That's how I counted time too, with the different days I lived… That is until I met you.” He pauses, a shaky breath leaving him and crashing onto you. “Suddenly I was no longer twenty-six. I was one week old since I met you. Three months since I’ve loved you. And then five years since you changed my life. Years no longer marked the passage of my time. It was you who marked the passage of me.”

“I always had this idea in my head, that I was only worth loving easily. If I diluted all my problems, concealed all my flaws and insecurities to please the ones around me, only then was I deserving of love. But you...” His eyes soften, even more so than they were before. “But you loved me, you loved me on my happy days, and on my darkest ones. You loved me, even when I couldn't understand it, even when I couldn't see what was there to care for in me. So, thank you, for showing me that I am worthy of love, simply because I am me. Thank you for choosing to be patient with me. You don't always know what to do to help, nor do I, but you try, and I try, and isn't that what love is, in the end? To take time out of your day to try, for the person you love?” His voice cracks, as sudden tears wash over his rosy cheeks.

“And I love you. I love to love you. And I cannot not love you, not when my heart beats to the melody of your existence. I promise that even when I’m eighty, I’ll always try to love you better, softer, gentler. I'll never stop trying to be worthy of your love, to be worthy of being yours. Only ever yours.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 minho ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

“Angel,” Minho smiles softly, the back of his hand brushing tenderly against your cheek. “I love you, so so much. You know that, right? I probably don't say it as much as I feel it, because I always do. Every second of my existence is spent loving you. Even when I’m not fully awake, and still floating in that hazy space between dreams and consciousness, I can still feel it deep within me that I love you. It is the one thing that ties me back to life itself.”

“And I never... I never imagined that I could adore someone this much. So much that I always think of you, always miss you, even when you're near. Because I feel as if I missed out on years of loving you, back when we didn't know each other. And I- I want to love you, hard enough so it'd feel as if I’ve done it for your entire life.” He's blinking repeatedly, you're surprised he can still read the words scribbled on his paper. You can sense that the tears glistening in his eyes are on the verge of spilling, so you grab his hand and squeeze it gently. 'I'm here', you silently say- he understands.  

“Thank you for holding my hand. Now, and every time I’ve needed you. Thank you for being here for me, with me. I... I always thought that people like me were destined to be alone. But- but being with you feels like I’m with myself. There's no need for me to pretend. Thank you for not making me pretend anymore. You are my mirror, you and I are one, and I- I hope...” He brings your hand to his chest, where his heart beats wildly- 'stay with me' it sings to you.

“I hope you can always feel my love for you. Now and when we're too old sitting on the patio of our home, and my hand is still in yours. Because my heart belongs to you, it beats for you and I breathe for you.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 changbin ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

“You're breathtaking,” Changbin whispers in awe, his eyes tracing the contours of your body with each lingering look, like the brush of a skilled artist.

“So are you,” you giggle, but he shakes his head vehemently, drawing nearer to you. “You are the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I can't believe I’m marrying you,” he chuckles in disbelief, before grabbing your hand and twirling you around, showing you off for all to see. 

“Look at who I’m marrying!” he shouts with bursting excitement, as he dips you down, his nose grazing yours gently, a soft touch amidst the loud exclamations around you. 

“Still sure you want to marry him?!” Seungmin shouts from his seat and you giggle, wrapping your arm around Changbin’s waist. “I do!” 

Your laughter gradually fades, as Changbin clears his throat. His head is tilted to the side, a small, incredulous smile drawn on his lips as he contemplates the loveliness of this moment- of marrying you. 

“My baby. My beautiful baby. I think this is the happiest day of my life. But again, every day is a happy one with you. I... I've never known that love could be unconditional, that loving someone would feel as simple as breathing. Until you. Loving you doesn't feel like I’m taking something out of my being, and giving it to you. But rather, I’m nurturing something within me, a blossoming tender emotion that grows within my soul. Loving you...” he steps forward, cradling your cheeks in his warm hands. “Loving you makes me happy, immensely happy. Because you are the sunset that makes people stop in their tracks to admire it. You are the beautiful scenery that gives hope to everyone who witnesses it. And you make me feel alive. More than I’ve ever been before you.”

“And I promise...” he pauses, wide eyes trying their best to embrace each feature drawn on your face. “I promise to love you more today than I did yesterday. I promise to shoulder the pain that slips through the cracks in your heart, the one that you try so hard to conceal from me. I promise to hear your silent cries and to hug you until your soul stops bleeding. I promise to see you, even when you try to hide from me. I promise to hurt if it means you'll feel less pain. And I-” his voice trembles as it washes over your old scars, delicately erasing them from your memory. 

“I will love you. When the pain seems too big, I will love you. And when your happiness shines the brightest, I will love you. I am madly, irrevocably, desperately in love with you. My heart is tangled in yours.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 hyunjin ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

“My love,” Hyunjin begins before abruptly stepping forward, pressing his lips onto yours. The kiss is dizzying and sweet, it reminds you of the figs he hand-fed you yesterday- honey dripping down his tongue onto yours. “I’m sorry,” he whispers once he steps back. “I couldn't help myself. You're so pretty,” he admits sheepishly, and you giggle, too in love to ever mind.

“Where was I? Right, hi, my love. Writing these vows was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Not because I didn't know what to say, but there is so much I wish to express, to talk about when it comes to you. How my soul seems to burn for you. How you’re my last love, but also my first, because I don’t think I’ve ever truly loved before you. Not when you are love itself. But I… I found this journal entry, from four years ago. And I want to read it to you.” He clears his throat, a useless attempt to erase the quiver in his voice.

“I used to believe that love was meant to be grandiose. Extravagant gestures and confessions that will seem too magical for any ordinary human. That’s what I craved; a love so big it would overtake my being completely. But... But tonight, you played with my hair as I laid my head on your lap. And we held hands while drinking warm tea on your couch. And it felt enough, more than enough for me to lead a beautiful life. One worth remembering, one worth commemorating. All because it’s with you.

I realize now that I no longer have to search for love all around me, because you hand it to me, so freely, so selflessly. You love me on our extraordinary days and our mundane ones. I never have to second guess it with you. We may be angry, sad, or frustrated, but the love always remains. It's the one emotion that ties us together, that anchors us to one another. My compass. You.

I don't think I ever 'fell' in love with you. Because a fall can never be gentle, it always hurts, even if for a little. And you must always get up afterward, in a minute, in an hour, in a few years. You can't stay down forever. But this, what I feel for you, the emotion that makes my heart beat is tender and soft. It feels like walking inside a home where the light is golden, the windows are wide open, and every past version of me finally finds what it was looking for all along. I want to stay in you for a while. For a long time. For the rest of my life. And I’ll do whatever it takes so you’d let me.

P.S: I am sleeping with a light heart tonight. I hope that, for as long as I’m breathing, you will always too. You deserve it, more than anyone who has ever walked this earth.”

There is a long pause, as Hyunjin’s words hang over the air; they knock the breath out of you but simultaneously fill you with life. You step forward, swiping away his tears gently. He brings your hand to his mouth, soft rosy lips brushing against your knuckles. 

 “I guess I've been writing my vows since the day I met you,” he smiles softly, delicate love overflowing from him. “Every painting, every journal entry, was to you, by you, for you. Thank you for being my home. Thank you for choosing to love me, every day. Thank you for allowing me to witness the magic that is you. I will forever and always orbit around you.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 han ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

“Have I ever told you that you're my favorite artist, sweetheart?” Han’s voice is gentle, as he begins speaking. It reminds you of the waves lapping at your feet when he proposed to you. “I feel as if, as soon as you stepped into my life, you began to paint it with the most vibrant colors. The ones I’ve been desperately longing for. Because it is hard… to see the world as a rainbow when you've felt in blacks and whites for so long.” Han’s gaze softens as he spots the tears now trailing down your cheeks. “Shh, don't cry, honey. Or I’ll start crying too, and I don't think I can stop then,” he whispers and you nod, a breathy giggle escaping your lips.  

“My mind used to be a scary place. But it no longer is, because it's now filled with thoughts of you. I like to imagine that you planted yourself a little garden there, vibrant tulips and roses. And these flowers may wither down. But they will always bloom again, watered by my love for you, and your love for me. And I hope you know that I... I'll always be there for you too. When the thoughts in your head won't quiet down, I’ll talk for as long as it takes to distract you. And when you want to sit in silence, I’ll be near you, holding your hand. And when you want to be alone, I’ll be there, lingering around the door, within your reach. In whichever shape you want me, you'll get me. I am here, I won't ever leave you.”

“And now I’m crying too” Han chuckles softly, and through the shimmering veil of your tears, you cling to his hand to see.

“I really, really don't know what I ever did to deserve you. But I know I’ll try my entire life to be worthy of you. For as long as I’m here then there will always be someone who loves you. Someone who is proud of you; for breathing, for trying, for never giving up. Please never forget that. You are my strength, my peace, my home. You are everything I have ever dreamed of in human form.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 felix ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

The golden rays reflect on Felix’s eyes as he looks down at his paper. A summer wedding- he insisted, his only condition to you. It is ridiculous, you wanted to tell him, to expect it to be any season but summer when he is the sun.

“Hi baby,” he grins, twinkling brown eyes captivating yours. “God, I’m so nervous. I rehearsed this ten times in front of chan. I think he learned it by heart now.” You giggle, as Chan’s laughter travels across the venue. “I’m not usually afraid of speaking in front of people. But you aren't anyone. I guess that's why I’m nervous. You look really beautiful today. This isn't in my papers, I just wanted to tell you. Because you are. You're always beautiful but today you're absolutely breathtaking and I can't believe I’m marrying you. Thank you for saying yes,” he pauses, a breathy chuckle escaping him. “I’m rambling, aren't I?” you nod, a wide grin on your face. You love him.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I... I'm known as the massage fairy, right? I think I might've massaged almost everyone present in this room.” The loud cheers of your friends signal that they agree.

“I used to, I mean, I do it because you get knots in places your hands can't reach, and it feels nice, for someone to ease the ache of your muscles for you. And I always thought that massages were strictly physical. That it just undoes tension in your body, nothing more, nothing less. And I never told you, because it sounded silly in my head. But I knew... I knew I loved you when you massaged my shoulders for the first time. Do you remember, baby?” he asks, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “That was two months into our relationship. Which is fairly early, but time means nothing when it comes to you.”

“My shoulders were sore, and when I told you, you stood behind me instantly. You started to massage my shoulders and I almost cried right there and then. Because your fingers worked delicately, and it felt as if you were kneading your love into my body. You lifted an invisible weight off of me that day, an emotional one. I didn't even know it was there until you touched me. That's how I knew you were different, to me. That your touch wasn't strictly physical, that it reached into depths of my soul, that it soothed aches I’m not even fully aware of,” he pauses, drawing in a deep breath.

“You already know this, but I... I never really learned how to deal with sadness, because it all happens so suddenly with me. One bad thought always brings with it ten others and suddenly I am pulled into a pool of horrible feelings. But your hands keep me afloat until I’m ready to swim by myself again. I think... I think you understand my sadness more than I do. Maybe because you're a part of me, two halves of the same heart.” His voice softens at the last word, as unshed tears glimmer in his eyes.

“I hope, I pray, that my hands massaging your sore shoulders would also reach into your soul and heal its ache. And I know I might not make you feel better, instantly, or in a day, or the following one. But I promise that I won't ever leave, even if the bad times stretch forward. I'll be with you, patiently, just as you do to me. I may not understand myself fully, but I know that my soul was crafted to love you. Every atom in me is yours, and that is enough knowledge for me.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 seungmin ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

You take a step forward, brows knitted in concentration as you carefully readjust Seungmin’s black tie. Your hands then glide to his shoulders, smoothing the fabric of his suit. “Nervous?” You ask, and he responds with a subtle nod, planting a chaste kiss upon your forehead.

“Don’t be. It’s just me.”

“It’s never ‘just you’ to me.” He gently holds your chin, dainty fingers commanding a cascade of butterflies inside you. “Just look at me, okay?” You smile tenderly and he nods, taking a step backward.

Seungmin draws in a deep breath, eyes traveling over the entire room before finally settling on you.

“I’ve always liked math. I liked the security that numbers gave me, the exactitude of this science. Because one plus one equals two, and no change in our world, however grand it may be, could ever alter it. I liked things that I could grasp, that I could wrap my head around fully. Tangible rules and formulas. They were my safety net. Until you came into my life. You were the wildest variable I’ve ever encountered, and being near you made me crave things I’ve never known. You pushed me out of my comfort zone, but I wasn't afraid to fall into the unknown, because I knew you'd be there to catch me. So, you became my risks and paradoxically, my safety net, all in one.” He doesn’t look down at his paper- his kind eyes never leave yours, and you’re suddenly the only two humans existing in this world.

 “I remember a Tuesday night, two years ago. You slept over at my house, and we didn't do anything special. We just talked a lot, about everything and nothing, just saying whatever crossed our minds. And then you dozed off on my chest. You looked so... Peaceful in my arms, and I was surprised you weren't woken up by my wild heartbeat. Because I suddenly realized that I wanted a forever with you, right there and then.” You both step forward at the same time, hands reaching out blindly to hold one another.

“I’ve always found it a bit weird to crave something to last for a duration that we humans cannot grasp. Everything we know is ephemeral. Everything has a beginning and an end. So, I never really believed in forever, until you. Forever exists because I can't see myself ever not loving you,” a faint hiccup courses through him, as he looks up at the sky- an earnest attempt to stop his tears from falling. It is useless, because once he looks at you again, emotion overtakes him, rippling from him in waves.

“Even- even when we're both no longer here, and my body can no longer contain my soul. Even if I only roam in space eternally, as a small speck of light, my destination would always be you, because my love for you would be the only thing my soul would remember. The core foundation of my being, the essence of who I am is my love for you, and even if everything around me fades, the love for you will stay.” His forehead presses onto yours, a last whisper, only meant for you- “My eternity is you.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 jeongin ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

Jeongin's lips graze the inside of your wrist, right where your pulse dances in fervor- for him alone. He looks self-assured, as he lets go of your hand to take out a paper from his pocket. But there is a faint blush tainting his cheeks; it travels down his neck when he clears his throat.

“Baby,” he starts, voice hoarse from barely hidden emotion- the notes of it settle inside your heart. “I don't know where we will be many years down the road, or what we will be doing. But I know that there are things that won't change between us. I know that I’ll listen to all your rants about your favorite show, and I’ll buy you ice cream when you're craving it at 3 a.m. I will still buy two bottles of my shampoo because you love to use mine more than yours. And I like it when you carry a part of me with you, even in such a subtle way. I will still give you my jacket, even when you insist you aren't cold, but I can tell, because I know you. I will...” He sucks in a deep breath, as his vision grows blurry from the tears in his waterline.

“I will make you coffee in the morning, exactly how you like it, down to how many ice cubes you use. I will warm up your towel as you shower and I will fold your laundry because I know you hate doing it. And I- I will hold your hand when we cross the road, and in crowded places, and in the lines of every coffeeshop we’ll go to. I will run my fingers down your spine when you're about to sleep, and I will-” Jeongin's tears splatter across the paper, smudging its black ink. His lips are quivering, as the paper shakes in his hands.

“I will kiss your tiny bruises and remind you to breathe on- on days where...” Jeongin crumples the paper in his hand as he finally looks at you. He’s crying, a stream of tears trailing down his cheeks like a floodgate that isn't planning on stopping. “On days where it seems impossible to.” He finishes, the words he's written long forgotten by him. He didn't need to read them when he had you in front of him- the sole holder of his love.

“And I will hug you tight on nights when your sadness feels bigger than what your body can contain. And when words don't seem to make sense in your head, I’ll- I’ll listen to you, I’ll understand you, I’ll learn you. And I will love you. I will love you and I’ve loved you and I love you. And I- I wish there was a word bigger than love to describe how I feel for you. Because four letters never seem enough when it comes to you. But I am yours, body, heart, and soul. Wherever you go I follow. Till the ends of the earth, I'll be there.”

[futureplayboibunnie]

Heartless Pt. 4

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

thank you for all the love so far! also this is my personal touch for this fic, but while i was writing it i was listening to the entire Honeymoon album by lana del rey (especially the instrumentals) i’d recommend listenting to it. it fits this vibe so perfectly, literally trying to encapsulate that feeling with this series.

“I'm in the middle of something.” You piped up nonchalantly, like being half naked and dripping with water in front of men was a completely normal occurrence. “Well, now that you're here, it would be nice if you were helpful by getting my bags.” You said with a wry, and slightly pissed-off smile. He just observed you with darkened eyes and a grinding jaw, if he pressed harder you would practically hear the bones crunch together. The look you gave him was an urging one. “So what will it be? Gaping at me blankly or being mildly helpful?” Your tone was aggravating, grating the inside of his head- your glib comments were making him realize that you were actually capable of disrespecting him.

Miguel didn't know what to make of you in his room like this, acting as if it were your own. It wasn't. But you were married now. Technically, what was his was yours. He didn't like it. He sneered, his features merely angry slashes contorting up his face. “I'm not your sniffer dog.” He barked, storming out of the room and slamming the door so hard that it closed and sprung back open. You rolled your eyes at his outburst, but you had to admit, it was a little unnerving to see him lose his temper that quickly. Miguel huffed, grabbed your stupid bag, and slammed the door open like a bull in a china shop. “Here, and get out of the room. It's mine.”

“What? I was in here first.” You protested in vain, you were the one who was dragged away on a honeymoon, you were the one who was being ordered around like a stuck-up child. The least he could do was let you sleep wherever you wanted to sleep.

“Well, I own the fucking building.” Miguel bit back deadpan, his voice flat and so sadistically arrogant, like money was all that made him. It was an insult to the whole idea of humanity to rely on something as belittling as money.

Miguel's head was storming, dissecting every single premonition about you and how you could so easily flip on him, he would tolerate your disrespect for now, you hadn't properly settled in yet, but if you made it a habit, he'd make you regret it. It should be funny, Miguel was so proper and particular about his women. There were things he liked and didn't like on women. He hated flats. He only liked certain colors. He hated jeans. He liked skirts and dresses for...easy access. He liked his women easy, and you were definitely not easy. You were making it difficult for him on purpose now. But for some reason, defiance suited you more than nonchalant complacency. It was more entertaining than the graceful, polite facade you shirked up.

“Can I put my clothes on now?” You objected, snapping him out of his pondering, looking like an idiot just glaring at you like this.

Part of him wanted to say ‘Well. No. I'd prefer you with nothing on actually.' His steely resolve almost broke at the realization, but he shook his head and pushed it down. Yes, you were attractive but your personality was a mystery for him, he was battling his own personal mysteries, and he didn't have time to psychoanalyze anyone elses.

-

You slept...okay. Miguel didn't disturb you or actually force you out of his room which was odd. He probably had enough of this senseless bickering, you'd probably just go back to ignoring each other, maybe at least try to independently enjoy this stupid 'honeymoon.’

The sun woke you up sweetly, and the soft gentle breeze billowed through the open curtains, offering the hum of salt air whispering through the room. You wanted to avoid Miguel as long as you could, so you decided to just go in the garden, sunbathe, read a book, do something meaningless to just forget about the fact you're married to one of the most dangerous men you've ever met.

You practically jumped out of bed, went to the bathroom, splashed your face with water, brushed your hair, and put it up in a claw clip with the speed of an Olympic runner. But what was all the hurrying for when you were completely stumped on what to wear? You tossed out your clothes and put them all away, you ultimately decided to wear a bikini and on top a cute mid-thigh sundress, you weren't going anywhere too fancy, the back garden wasn't exactly Paris fashion week. When you glanced outside the terrace, you were happy to see that the garden was adorned with carefully cut shrubs, willowing trees, orchids, and chrysanthemums. Considering Miguel rarely leaves for leisure, it was a surprise that is was being kept up - it must have meant a lot to him then. You grabbed your things and opened the door quietly, wanting to sneak out as soundlessly as possible in order not to attract attention from Miguel, or worse, be the reason to wake him up.

You padded away barefoot, feeling the warmth of the sun outside surround you as it seeped through every glass window.

Even though Miguel told you to get used to his lifestyle, you still hadn't settled in, something just didn't sit quite right with you. You were fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family but the way Miguel wasn't bothered by the sheer amount of blood money he acquired is...distasteful. Thinking of which, you peeked your head around the corner in order to see if Miguel was awake but instead you found something else. He wasn't in bed at all. He was asleep, his hands were crossed on the kitchen counter and his head was flat on his upper arm, fast asleep with his laptop open in front of him Jesus. He still hadn't changed. What was it with men not wanting to take care of themselves?

You shifted towards him, inching closer and closer to his sleeping form. Wow. He almost looked peaceful, not full of that mindless aggression he was known for. His copper hair was tousled and disheveled, his golden skin was creased but reflective against the light, and his breathing was slow and heavy- it was odd seeing him this relaxed when he wasn't even in a relaxing position in the first place. You raised an eyebrow at his disposition. Maybe Miguel wanted to outsmart and outwit sleep, he obviously had to succumb to its charms. You worked your way around the kitchen island, unable to stop looking at him like this, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and just stood and stared at him like a creep. You really should leave before he wakes up, but you didn't want him sending his capos combing the entire complex for you, so you just left him a note.

In the garden.

-

Miguel heard a gunshot.

It reverberated in his ears.

More gunshots. Thousands of rounds smoking away.

His eyes widened, and the sleep left his bones. His head spun around, shifting erratically, and he almost fell off the fucking chair. A tight anxiety squeezed the color out of his face, the heavy breaths wouldn't bring any solance to any of the fragments falling at his palms. His chest filled with panic, and the first thing that came into his head to find was you. He eyed your note and rushed down as fast as he could. He needed to get you out of here.

But then all he heard was silence when he stepped out onto the patio. A muffling silence. Then the sharp hum of wildlife, the birds chirping, the distant sounds of the beach, the flattening waves. The crickets trilled and the leaves rustled, the nostalgia of the oddly familiar sounds crept up on him like a disillusioning shadow. An itch he couldn't scratch. A never-ending nightmare he couldn't end. A man with everything he could ever want, but no clear consciousness, no clear mind. He was blind and tortured.

You were lying on a sunbed, and Miguel only caught onto your back and a little bit of your side profile. His eyes were dead set on you, contemplating you...and there you are, emerging in his eyeline. Those flashes of skin become a painting, a jigsaw puzzle coming together. He was slow in his movements, finally viewing you as you were. You were lying there, glowing in a small bikini, taking in the sun like a nymph. Your body was so….

Miguel frowned.

The apple you bit into was stuck to your teeth, you stopped everything you were doing, pausing for your eyes to follow from Miguel's thighs to his face. This was the moment where he saw you as if you were like a deer in headlights, like a naive girl who tries to hide behind back-talk and retaliation. The wide-eyed look you gave him, pupils glazing over, revealing no thought behind your eyes. But he saw you. He saw you being affected by his presence. He felt himself loom over you. Your eyebrows creased in pensive irritation, Miguel's face was hard and steely in something he couldn't quite define. You finished biting into the apple, chewing and just giving him a nonchalant look. Reverting back like second instinct.

“Did you rush out here to gawk at me again? Or to blame me for your lack of sleep?” You breathed out judgementally, but at that moment, the way your eyes connected sent a strange chill down your spine, even when you were lying out in the sun. Miguel felt it too. The scorching, pulsating beat behind your gaze was a never-ending maze, an attempt to figure out who was going to break first. Neither of you was willing to back down. It was sizzling…as wellias unsettling.

Miguel didn't know how to answer your question. He couldn't exactly tell you that his nightmares of the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to him tricked his head into believing he was hearing the remnants of it in real time. Part of him wanted to say yes to both. His sleep schedule was a nightmare in itself and the woman who is the bane of his existence has to be looking so...delicious when he was absolutely not in the mood. He wanted you with nothing on, maybe force you to look at him the exact same way he just found you...with his hand between your thighs.

Miguel shook the annoying, sleep-induced thought away. He was acting like every other man, their mind wandering to hell when they see any attractive woman- he won't fall for it. He won't. But you weren’t any other woman were you?

Miguel watched you bite into the apple and instinctively, he just grabbed it from your mouth, almost pulling at it. He watched your face flit into a multitude of different emotions at what he did. You opened your mouth to say something but you just huffed instead, glaring a hole into his face. Miguel took a bite out of it and tilted his head to contemplate you. He knew he shocked you.

You were really fuckable.

Extremely fuckable.

It was an objective statement.

But he still won't play into it. Nah. You wouldn’t be able to fix him. He was too damaged for you. He wouldn’t mind the primitive pleasure of fucking you. He just won’t do it. You weren’t as nice as before. You’d grown a smart mouth.

“Hm.” That was all he could say to you. “I want my room back.” His fingers reached out and tilted your chin up a little, he felt you flinch just a millisecond and that expression on your face was unamused, dead set looking up at him. It felt like you were holding your breath. He took another bite out of the apple. "Happy sunbathing carino." He yelled behind him as he walked away.

-

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[coriosbunni]

⋆° 𐙚 ₊🕯️ೀ₊°⋆ - on to you

pairings: academy!coriolanus snow x academy!fem!reader warnings: smut, possessive + obsessive coriolanus !!! , toxic coriolanus, breeding, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, public sex, summary: kind of a part two to " just lay there " but can be read alone ! basically corio and y/n developed a friends w benefits type relationship and they decided to go to a gala with separate dates. authors note : i personally recommend listening to haunted by beyonce during this hehehe, i just love that song sm, it makes me think of coriolanus.. also def listen to "all mine" by brent faiyaz it def suits this and "ultraviolence "by lana del rey ehehe i literally have a whole playlist dedicated to snow so im recommending them <3

you have been having this friends with benefits relationship with your best friend for months now. no one had a clue what was going on between you guys. especially you, you always wondered what it meant to have a fwb with your best friend since childhood. but of course you were always too shy to bring it up just in case it messes everything up. so you kept it safe.

after hooking up plenty of times, coriolanus has gotten pretty comfortable with your body and more secure. probably because he knows that he's the only one that has ever satisfied you. he was so relaxed and calm, while here you were thinking what this meant between yall.

with the end of the year gala coming up, you saw no reason for you two to attend together. after all, you weren't actually together. still, this reality bothered you

what you didn't know was that coriolanus had been building up the courage to ask you to the gala together. it shouldn't be a big deal, but he was hesitating so much. he had put off asking you every time he saw you. the thought of you rejecting him bothered him to no end. it would actually be the end of him.

it was two weeks before the gala that he finally gotten over himself to ask. as he walked down the halls of the academy, he spotted you at your locker talking to sejanus.

"so would you like to go with me to the gala? my mom is insisting i go and i don't want to be alone during that insufferable event with our annoying classmates" he hears you ask sejanus once he was in earshot.

he stood there a few steps behind you, a wave of anger washed over him as he processed what he had just heard. his jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed, "how could you ask sejanus? you belong to me. and since when were you friends??" he asks himself

he couldn’t help but feel a tang of jealousy as sejanus accepts, glad to attend the gala with a close friend.

your willingness to go with someone other than him, aggravated him. how could you want someone like sejanus to the gala instead of him?a guy from district 2 thats family isn't as well-connected and affluent as the snows. but with no worry, he's quick to come up with a way to get back at you.

"y/n. sejanus. have you seen clemmie?" the boy with blonde locks asked the pair. he blatantly asked them, not even with a hi or a hello.

he refused to look at you after addressing you, solely interested in knowing where clemensia was so he could ask an important question.

of course you noticed the lack of eye contact and his odd behavior, "i believe she was headed to her strategy and tactics class" sejanus remarks. coriolanus nods and says a quick thank you before rushing to catch clemensia.

you look at coriolanus chase after clemensia, hurt and worry bubbling in you chest. you didn’t need to ask your best friend any questions, call it intuition, but you knew what coriolanus needed clemensia for.

you couldn’t help but feel a surge of jealousy at the possibility of your corio taking clemensia to the gala. even though you had already asked someone else to accompany you, it didn't sit well with you.

coriolanus couldn't stop thinking about how angry he was at y/n. he was so mad he couldn't get himself to converse with you, but he needed to be calm so as to not freak out clemensia.

two weeks had passed without y/n and coriolanus sleeping together at all. the conversation between the two people was superficial and lacked any real substance. their pettiness got the best of them, and neither ever mentioned why the other had invited another person to the gala. they both ignored the ache they felt in their hearts upon knowing the other would go to a gala with someone else.

ʚ day of the gala ɞ 🐈‍⬛ ྀི . . .

y/n enters the hallowed halls of the venue, black gate protecting the valuable and expensive statues in the estate. the academy decided to use a section of the school’s art museum to hold the event.

the entrance led to a room with a barrel-vaulted skylight, textured roman travertine marble columns, and greek inspired capitals. it’s a space so big it feels divine. excitement was slowly building up within her, she did her best not to worry about coriolanus and just enjoy the night.

sejanus and y/n walks up the white concrete stairs, arms interlocked. a white pocket square on his left pocket to match her white silky backless dress. there was no doubt in the world they looked elegant and beautiful together.

coriolanus was getting drinks for him and clemensia, when he makes eye contact with y/n as she enters the venue. his eyes watching her every move, distracted by how the dress hugs her form in all the right places. the dress is accentuating her beautiful features that he has had the luck of touching from their nights together.

not to mention your exposed back, god it made it hard for him not to just grab you and take you in front of every one right there. the time away from each other was catching up to him, filling his days with a longing that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.

he turned his attention back to clemensia and headed to her. she stood in her red dress, covered in gold jewels that pairs well with her styled black hair. the white rose pinned to coriolanus's lapel perfectly complemented the white dress of the girl he desired the most.

the night went by without him spending at least a moment thinking about you. when he sees you laughing at whatever sejanus said to you, he'd think about how that should be you laughing at his jokes.

upon noticing your solitude, he abruptly interrupted Clemensia mid-conversation, using it as an excuse to excuse himself. he walks straight to you, not wasting a single moment.

consumed by jealousy, he couldn't bear to let it linger any longer, feeling it overwhelm him completely.

he stands right in front of you. "y/n can we talk?" he asks, masking his anger but you could tell he had enough.

"why? what is there to talk about?" you couldn't believe him. he didn't say a single word to you during the entire night, even when you had came by him and clemensia. he couldn't possibly think you'd be okay with this treatment.

you scoff in his face and coriolanus took this chance to put his hand on your back to guide you outside. you start protesting but it was quickly shut done when he shoots you a face. his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes had this look in them.

it reminded you of when he'd be fucking into you with all his might.

he leads you outside to a quiet corner, far from the sounds of a hundred or so academy students drunk off their ass.

his jaw clenches, a flash of jealousy darkening his expression before he speaks again. "don't play dumb, y/n. I saw you with him," his tone accusing and bitter.

your heart sinks at his words, the weight of his jealousy heavy in the air between you. "and what if you saw me with him?" you counter, your own anger rising to match his. "what right do you have to be angry?"

he scoffs, his eyes narrowing with resentment. "right? you're kidding, right?" he retorts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "you know damn well why i'm angry."

you shake your head, frustration bubbling up inside you. "i can't believe you," you mutter, unable to comprehend his possessiveness. you feel a surge of frustration and resentment rising within you, the weight of his jealousy suffocating. "you made it pretty clear where we stand."

his eyes darken, a flash of anger crossing his features, but also a glimmer of hurt. "don't do this, y/n," he warns, his voice low and dangerous. "you know damn well I'm not the only one at fault here."

your breath catches in your throat at his words, the tension between you escalating to a fever pitch. "maybe not," you concede, your voice barely above a whisper, "but you didn't have to ignore me all night."

as the tension mounts between you, his eyes burning with intensity. "you have no idea how hard it was for me to hold myself back," he admits, his voice low and filled with desperation. "seeing you with him... it made me want to tear him apart."

you feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, the air thick with unspoken desire and pent-up frustration. "Then why didn't you?" you challenge, your body trembling with anticipation.

he closes the distance between you in an instant, his hands finding itself on your waist, his touch electric against your skin. "because I knew I had to make you understand," he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light caress. "you're mine, rose. and no one else's."

his words send a shiver down your spine, igniting a firestorm of longing and need deep within you. "am i?" you ask, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. you finally ask him what you've been wanting since the beginning of your arrangement.

and then, in a rush of passion and desperation, his lips crash against yours, fierce and demanding, consuming you in a whirlwind of emotion. there's anger and frustration in the way he kisses you, a primal need to possess and claim you as his own.

he pulls away, catching his breath, "you've been mine since the day i met you bunny," his face still close to yours. his lips connect to yours, dominating you with his kisses. owning you and devouring you as his love for you soars.

he pushes you to a wall, your back against it. he bunches up your dress at your hips and his fingers find itself on your core. as he feels your wetness, he chuckles to himself, glad to still see the effect he has on you. "all this for me baby? hmm?" he asks.

you nod at him, unable to speak because of your trembling figure thats desperate for his touch. he tuts in respond, "come on princess use your words."

he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”

he kisses the sides of your neck, his aura radiating dominance and his touch was electrifying, each motion of his fingers inside you ignited a fire through your veins. you moan at the feeling of his fingers stretching you out— preparing you to take his big cock once again.

despite the amount of times you've hooked up with him, you were always enveloping his cock like a vice. he continued pumping his fingers in and out of your heat. your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, lost in the heat of the moment. it's a battle of wills and desires, a collision of two souls bound together by passion and longing.

he takes his fingers out of your and leads it up to your mouth, waiting for you to suck on his fingers like the good little girl you are.

and you do. you open your mouth, and taste yourself on his fingers. you match his gaze while doing the lewd act— making his cock harden even more, if it was even possible, at the sight.

the image of you sucking his fingers was his breaking point, he positions himself between your thighs, his hands firmly grabbing both of your legs and wrapping it around him, giving him more access to your wet cunt.

he locked eyes with you, a mix of desire and possessiveness swimming in his gaze. "you're mine, bunny," he growled, his voice filled with a primal possessive drive.

he groans at the feeling of you around him. you missed the feeling of his big cock inside you, "fuck me—please fuck me hard" you repeatedly beg.

he moves closer to kiss you and thrust in you fast and hard just like you asked. he was consumed by a deep, unrelenting desire, every moment with your desperate plea for more, as if he could never get enough of you.

you match his intensity with equal fervor, tugging on his hair harder.

"missed this tight pussy so much, princess," he whispers in your ear as his thrusts faster.

your moans were a symphony of desire, each sound escaping your lips like a soft, melodic plea for more. they were raw and unrestrained, filled with a longing that resonated deep within him.

every moan seemed to vibrate through the air, a testament to the intense pleasure she was experiencing, and each one sent a shiver of exhilaration down his spine.

"you take me so well bunny— f-fuck," he lets out, his pace unrelenting, determined to make you cum on his cock. he whispers "mine" over and over again, his voice a husky, possessive murmur that sent shivers down her spine.

each repetition, timed with his thrusts, was filled with a fierce, undeniable claim, as if he was branding you with every movement.

his grip on your legs tightened, and he groaned as he felt you submit to him completely, his body driving into yours in a primal and possessive rhythm.

"is this what you want princess? taking everything i give you with such good obedience," his own desire reigniting at the sound of her moans. his pace picked up again.

coriolanus noticed the way you nod urgently at him, unable to speak from how good he was fucking you. his grin widened at this, more praises rolling off his tongue. "now say it back to me bunny."

"'m your obedient little girl" you respond with pleasure and excitement in your eyes.

he places a kiss on your neck, his tongue tracing a line up to your earlobe, "tell me who you belong to."

"i-i belong to you corio" you moan loud, his dominance and possessiveness turning you on even more.

his movements become more urgent, more forceful, the sound of your bodies slapping together just a few steps away from the gala.

"fuck! i wanna—wanna cum for you please" you begged, nearing your release

coriolanus groans lowly in response, his own body teetering on the edge as he continues to drive into you. " i know baby—i can feel you tighten around me"

"you're so close. you're going to cum for me." he breathes, his eyes lock with yours, possessing your gaze and your body. "but you're not coming until i say so." you groan in response, unable to hold it any longer and you shake your head no in response.

he grinned wickedly at your inability to contain yourself, "you can do it bunny, you can take it for me," he encourages you.

his words push you further—submitting to his cruelty, drunk at the pleasure that he's giving you. "good bunny," he praised huskily, his voiced edged with desire.

"that's my good girl. take it all for me. just a little longer. don't be too loud now, we wouldn't want anyone catching us don't we?" he asks, his pace both punishing and deliciously slow; a mixture of pleasure and edging.

coriolanus moaned at the sight of your struggle, his own body pulsating with a mix of desire and need. his gaze darkened further as he watched you fighting against the waves of pleasure. "do you wanna cum for me?"

"y-yes please i want to so badly" you begged

coriolanus couldnt hold back any longer; the sight of your begging, the sound of your moans, it was all too much. with a low groan, he gave in to your shared desire. "now, bunny. cum for me."

his body tense, and as your climax hit you both powerfully and intensely, your bodies shook with wave upon wave of blinding pleasure. coriolanus held onto you tightly, claiming you as his own. "thats my good girl," he groaned, his voice a mix of breathless satisfaction and possessive love.

coriolanus held you as your bodies rode out the waves of your climax, his touch was reverent as he traced lazy patterns along your sides, his lips placing gentle kisses on any exposed skin he could find.

"are you okay baby?" he murmured softly, his voice warm and affectionate. "more than okay," you smiled up at him. content and pleasure running your veins.

coriolanus chucked softly, his heart swelling with fondness for you. he pulls out of you and fixes both you and him up before heading back inside but not without a kiss on your forehead.

hand in hand, you walk back into the gala, the warmth and light enveloping them as you stepped inside, ready to celebrate your newfound love amidst the festive atmosphere.

[dazedandconfused-15]

Heaven's in your eyes (Part 1)

This is to answer a request I received from an anonymous user a couple of months ago “Billy asks shy reader out and is protective over her”, for some reason I can't directly respond to their post still getting used to Tumblr. Sorry for taking a while to write this one. Anyway, I got a little bit carried away and turned it into a short fic, I just loved the whole concept. I’ll definitely post a part 2. Comments and constructive opinions are always appreciated 🩷

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

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You have always watched him from a distance.

There was something magnetic about him. Where he was, energy swirled.

You have never spoken to him. He’s something inaccessible to you. He hangs out with the popular crowd. Yet, unlike all of them, he doesn’t seem to pretend. He doesn’t show off. He naturally exudes an aura that makes him alluring. He’s not just what could be called "hot." No, he’s beautiful. When you first saw him in the school hallways, you could swear that for a second, your heart stopped. He was playing with his lighter, walking with an assured stride in the direction of his classroom with Jason Carver. He was a palette of contrasting colors that stood out in perfect harmony. His tanned face was framed by long, golden curls that almost fell over his shoulders. He looked straight ahead as he listened to the boy at his side with his red mouth stretched into a smirk that revealed white teeth. His cupid bow was dusted with stubble. It was no surprise that most of the girls looked at him with no shame, the shyest ones glancing up as soon as he passed them. That California boy did not look like a boy. He looked like a man. You could tell by the way he was built, the black leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders, the muscular legs in his denim jeans.

You had realized that you were staring openly at him when he passed by you and, probably feeling the weight of your gaze on him, his eyes had met yours. There, something had happened inside you. His eyes were the purest blue you had ever seen. They were crystalline. But it was the long dark lashes that gave his gaze something expressive and unique. They were the embodiment of what is called a piercing gaze. It was a unique paradox: as angelic as it was rough in outline. Awakening from your enchantment, you lowered your gaze with an abrupt jerk of your head and resumed putting your books away in the locker, feeling your cheeks on fire and your heart beating wildly.

That was the only time you had even a remote semblance of contact with him. 

As you rush to your English literature class a month later, rounding the corner of the hallway, the last thing you expect is to bump into him. You let out an "ouch" as you collide with his hard chest, your notes and pencil case tumbling to the ground in the chaos. It's only when you raise your eyes in a flurry of apologies that you realize who you've bumped into. You swallow, kneeling and picking up your notes hastily. 

"You alright?"

"Yes. Yes." the notes slip through your shaking fingers.

His hands appear in your field of vision, and when you accidentally touch them, an electric shock almost makes you wince. He helps you pick them up, then raises to his feet and holds them to you. You thank him, thinking about what else you could say to avoid making the situation awkward. His baby blue shirt matches the color of his eyes. He’s even prettier from closer. 

"We’re in History class together, right?

His question surprises you. You didn't think he would remember you. You didn't think he would notice you.

"Yes. That's right."

He holds out his hand, his heavy-lidded gaze on you. "Billy."

You shake his hand, introducing yourself. His hand is large and his grip his firm, but gentle at the same time. That touch makes your stomach tangle. You can't believe he is talking to you.

"You're new, right?" you ask. You know fully well that he arrived here a month ago. You know full well that he is from California. He probably knows that you know, but he doesn't say anything about it

"Yes. Moved here last month."

“Oh, okay. Welcome to Hawkins, then.” you say gently as you absently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Thanks.”

There’s a beat of silence, him probably waiting for you to say something else. You point at the door down the hallway, starting to walk away. “I ah, I have to go to class. Sorry.”

And you walk away, no, you scurry away, almost escaping him, feeling a pang of embarrassment as you replay the scene later in your head, regretting how abruptly you left without saying more. 

You don’t cross paths with him again after that. However, you are clearly more aware of his presence during history classes even though you don’t interact again. 

In recent months, you've adopted a strategy of minimizing your visibility as much as possible. It’s not always easy. That Thursday is one of the hard days. Mr. Jensen, the new history teacher, makes his way through the rows of desks, collecting permission slips signed by parents for the upcoming day trip he has organized to Indianapolis. 

"Ah, I don't seem to have your permission slip yet," he inquires gently as he sees you empty-handed. "Did you forget to bring it today?" 

Feeling the eyes of everyone on you, your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. You hate all of this attention on you. "I, um, I haven't been able to get it signed yet. My dad's been working double shifts, and I haven't caught him at home."

“I understand,” the teacher says, “But I need to give all the signed papers to the principal by tomorrow. Is it possibly to get it signed today? By your mother, perhaps?”

Before you could answer, Tommy Hagan's voice pierces the air, his tone laced with mockery. "She's probably halfway across the country by now, cozying up with some other guy."

You don’t even turn to look at him. You saw it coming. It’s been five months since she left now. Hawkins is a small town, so the news spread quickly. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, avoiding eye contact with your classmates as you feel the weight of their curious gazes. 

"I uh...I just," you try to ignore Tommy's comment, resting your eyes on the professor whose eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. "I'll tell my dad tonight. He's just been really busy. I will bring it to class tomorrow."

“If he comes back with the milk.” snickers Tommy. 

You stiffen instantly without wanting to, which the teacher doesn’t fail to notice.

“That's enough, Mr. Hagan. Comments like that have no place in my classroom.” he snaps as his eyes darken, his jaw set. His expression softens as he turns to you. “Don't worry about the permission slip for now. We'll make sure you're included."

As the professor returns to his seat, your eyes remain fixed on the spot where the desk is chipped, absently touching it with your fingernail. Your body fails to relax as you fight to ignore the burning in your throat, careful not to blink, your vision blurred for a few moments. But Tommy's yelp draws your attention and you turn your head to your left, where he is sitting next to Billy. 

“What was that for, man?”

Tommy is rubbing his shoulder, his face scrunched up in pain and a mixture of disbelief and confusion on his face. Billy stares straight ahead, his face cold and hard. 

"What the fuck is your problem?" he eventually mutters under the teacher’s explanation. However, it sounds more like a statement than a question.

As you go back to stare at your desk, your throat is still burning but your vision is clear again. You wonder if what Billy said was because of Tommy's comments. Why would he defend you? 

The rest of the class passes in a blur of confusion and unanswered questions. Tommy's hurtful words echo in your mind, leaving you shaken and upset, the sting of their cruelty lingering long after the bell rings.

***

On the morning of the school trip, you are tempted to call the school and say you are sick, but your father comes back from the plant later in the morning and will see that you are actually fine. Also, Mr. Jensen might suspect that something is going on. Only, the idea of spending the day with the whole class, but feeling more alone than you are when you're at school, doesn't appeal to you. You've never been very outgoing. Since your mother left, the armor that covered you has only thickened, alienating you from the rest of the world. To this day you have received no answers. She left overnight without warning. You never received a call. You knew that things had not been going well between your parents for some time. Or rather, your mother kept complaining about how being in Hawkins was suffocating her, how she was no longer happy. The pain was slowly becoming coated with resentment. She had abandoned you and your father as if nothing had happened, as if years of living together had counted for nothing. As if being a family had cost nothing. Arriving on the ground floor and finding the kitchen light off had now become a habit, not an odd occurrence. Other things had become routine: the unaccustomed silence in your house, the TV once perpetually on now always off, the teapot once always in use was now in the kitchen drawer. 

Once on the school bus, you spend your time looking out the window and counting the trees on the distant hills. You can feel the wind blowing outside, the rain pelting cruelly on the window. A crack lets a trickle of air through, making you shiver and clench tighter in your jacket. The ride at least passes quietly, no one talking to you or bothering you. Tommy Hagan keeps his comments to himself, too busy jabbering in the back of the bus with his band of friends. You can hear the occasional shrillness in the voice of Carol Perkins, his girlfriend. 

You spend almost the entire morning in the Indiana Historical Society, following the professor through the corridors of the museum. You stay in the background, drowning out the guide's voice and looking at the paintings hanging on the wall. As you change rooms, you realize that you are not the only one who has remained aloof. Billy Hargrove lingers to your side at the back of the row of students, his hands tucked into his leather jacket. You try not to be affected by his presence, suddenly self-conscious of the way you walk and breathe. You still remember what he told Tommy Hagan the week before. You are increasingly convinced that he defended you. As the class spreads in different directions, everyone observing something different and speaking lowly in small groups you realize he’s still here, on your side.  As you ponder if you should say something, or just assume that he’s walking behind on his own, he catches you off guard. 

“Kinda boring, huh?” 

“Yeah, a little," you respond, offering him a small smile that probably looks like a grimace. "History isn't my cup of tea."

“Mine neither,” his gaze scans the display cases lining the wall on your left. “Beats being seated all day in class, though.”

“Definitely,” you nod in agreement as you slowly cross through another room. Desperately trying to fill the silence, you come up with the first thing that crosses your mind. “I’ve been here before.”

“The museum?” 

“Indianapolis,” you say. You hesitate before finishing your thoughts. “My grandma lived here. I spent some weekends at hers.” 

Billy hums. He sniffs, then retrieves some chewing gums from his back pocket. He unwraps one. “How’s the city?” 

“It’s great. Oh, thank you.” you softly say as you take the gum he’s offering you. “There are some nice parks.” 

He pops the chewing gum in his mouth. “We have quite a few in San Diego too.

You turn toward him, curiosity overcoming your shyness. “You lived in San Diego?”

“Yes. Big change of scenery.”

“I can imagine.” your gaze wanders to the antique objects displayed in a glass case. “I’ve seen pictures, it looks incredible.” memories of your dad's album, from when he was young, flood your mind – images of palm trees swaying in the breeze, golden beaches stretching for miles, and endless blue skies that seemed to merge seamlessly with the ocean. 

“That’s something else, yeah. Honestly, I couldn’t complain at all.” 

“I wish I could see California,” you say a little dreamily. 

“I can take you one day.”

Your throat feels suddenly dry. So you let out a nervous giggle, avoiding his gaze, assuming he is joking. Fortunately, the professor calls your attention back. It's lunchtime and he tells you that you are free to go wherever you want, as long as you are outside the museum within four hours. You told your father the school would pay for the student's lunch because you know times are tough. He insisted on giving you ten dollars in case you need it.

You walk down the steps of the museum looking around and thinking about where you could make all this time go. It's going to be long. You know a few restaurants, but you know that your pocket money is clearly not enough to eat there. A gust of wind brings the smell of smoke to your nostrils, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy stop beside you. His eyes take in your surroundings.

“So, you told me you know the city.”

“Huh, yes,” you answer, a little lost. “Not all of it, but most of it, like downtown.”

Billy exhales the smoke he’s been holding in his mouth.  “Are we downtown?” 

You look around, recognizing the skyscrapers in the distance. "Yes," you point to the skyline to your right, figuring he simply wants to ask you for information so he knows where to go with his friends. "It's over there."

“Sweet. You hungry?” 

The silence that passes between the two of you makes him turn toward you, waiting for your response. So you rush to answer, ignoring the way his piercing blue eyes make you feel self-conscious.

“Yes. Yes, a little bit,” then you ask him, unsure: “...are you?”

“Starving.” he resumes walking down the stairs again, and you follow him, trying to figure out if he really means what you think he means. Some classmates are already leaving in different directions. “You know someplace to eat?” 

“I do. But I don’t have enough. In case you want to go together. If that’s what you were offering.” You add, mentally slapping yourself. Why does everything you say have to come across as weird? Besides, you just admitted that you are practically out of money. “I can show you, though.”

Billy shakes his head, shifting in his leather jacket. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s on me.” 

“No, really, I can't let you do that," you insist, your voice tinged with concern. "I mean, I appreciate it, but I can't just let you pay for me."

Billy turns to you, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he exhales the smoke sideways. "Come on, it's no big deal," he reassures you. "Consider it my way of saying thanks for showing me around. Besides, it's not like I'm short on cash."

You hesitate for a moment. But ultimately, you know that accepting his offer would ease the burden on your wallet. With a resigned sigh, you nod in agreement. "Okay, if you insist," you concede, offering him a small smile. "But just this once.”

You wanna immediately grimace at your pathetic implication that there would be another time, but Billy doesn’t seem to notice anyway.

He just winks at you. And even if he’s not smiling or anything, it still makes your stomach flip. "Deal," he says. "Now, lead the way."

As you walk beside each other through the park later on, you relish in what surrounds you, not even realizing the silence that has settled between the two of you because it feels so natural. Some people are jogging, there are some families too, or people walking alone headed who knows where. The birds are chirping in the trees that are alongside the walk. You spot a squirrel scurrying up the trunk of one of them, its fluffy tail waving wildly. The late afternoon sun is shining right in front of you, hitting your skin in a gentle caress. Spring is gradually unfurling its colors, bringing with it a glimmer of warmth that has been absent from your life lately. In the midst of the cold and desolation that settled in after your mother's departure, this glimpse of light offers a tentative promise of renewal, a small beacon of hope amid the darkness that has enveloped you and your father. You glance at Billy, realizing that in the short span of your conversation, he's frequently reached for a cigarette. Yet, even during the moments when he abstained, like in the museum and at the restaurant, his mouth was never empty. It was either occupied by a mint, a bite of burger, the straw of his milkshake, or eventually a toothpick found on the table. 

“So, uhm, have you been somewhere else besides San Diego or Hawkins?” you venture. 

“Nope”, he answers, the “p” resounding loudly. He looks around, one hand in his jacket pocket as the other one holds the cigarette on his side. “Never moved from Cali. I was born in Santa Barbara. Then moved to San Diego when I was ten.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “Is Santa Barbara close to the ocean?”

“It is. I’ve always lived by the ocean.” 

You turn to him, enthusiasm laced in your voice as you get carried away in the conversation. “So you know how to surf?” 

Billy chuckles, nodding as he brings the cigarette to his lips. “I do, yeah. Surfed every day.” 

“Wow.” you breathe, your mind wandering away. “It must be…like an adrenaline rush.”

As Billy exhales the smoke, you don’t miss the nostalgic glint flickering in his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. "Yeah, it's something else. There's nothing quite like catching a wave, feeling the power of the ocean beneath you."

“I’ve heard it’s hard to learn.” you muse softly. 

The rhythmic sound of your footsteps punctuates the conversation. Billy stays silent for a few seconds, probably lost in his thoughts. Then he shrugs. “To be honest, I was on the surfboard since I was a child, so must’ve been natural for me. But yeah, it generally is.

“I can only imagine," you respond, a sense of longing in your voice. You’ve only seen this kind of landscape in pictures or on TV.  "Must have been amazing growing up with that kind of freedom."

Billy's sigh is loud as he exhales a plume of smoke, his gaze drifting towards the horizon. "It was. Surfing was my escape, you know? Whenever things got tough, I could just grab my board and disappear into the waves."

What he says lightens some curiosity in you. You wonder what he means by that. You wonder what he went through, what his past was like. There’s something really intriguing about him. But you refrain from asking more, aware of how little you know each other. Besides, you can’t help but notice the little twitch of his jaw muscles as he says it. 

"It’s always been books for me.” you offer. “They have this way of transporting you to another world, making you forget about everything else."

Billy nods in understanding. “What kinda books you read?”

“Oh,” you look at your shoes as you feel suddenly vulnerable. You almost feel ashamed of your taste in books, but you know you shouldn’t. “A bit of everything, really. I’m reading a Dostoevsky one right now.

“Dostoevsky, huh? Pretty heavy stuff.”

“You’ve read some of him before?

“I read Dream of a Ridiculous Man. A long time ago though.” 

“Oh,” you breathe, recalling how challenging it was to finish it when you read it a couple of months ago. Reading books by Dostoevsky, especially that one, has been both a cathartic and enlightening experience. They made you feel less alone in your pain. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda controversial.” he grimaces. “It’s a fucking depressing book. But... it's like... there's something about it that just... resonates, you know what I mean? Like, you read it and... it's like looking into a mirror, but... the reflection's all twisted and weird. I don't know if that makes any sense.” he shrugs. 

It couldn’t make more any sense to you. For the first time, you feel understood in that sense. It's a relief to know that you're not alone in finding meaning within its pages. His words resonate deeply with you. 

“I totally get it. That’s part of the reason why I like his books.” 

The subtle revelation hangs in the air with the rhythmic sound of your footsteps on the concrete path. You hope he’s not reflecting on your words too much, aware of what you’ve implied. Your own thoughts go on what he said. Why did Billy resonate so much with the book? What if there’s something everybody can relate to, even people who haven’t experienced anything bad in life?

“You?” he then asks. “Always been in Hawkins?”

“Born and raised.” you nod. Then you add, a bit sheepishly: “Nothing like California, unfortunately.” 

Billy snorts, flicking his cigarette. “What’s there to do in summer?”

“Oh uh. Nothing much. We have a public pool.” you offer, looking at him. 

Billy takes a drag, his eyes trailing on the path in front of both of you.

“We have Lover’s Lake too,” you add. “It’s quite nice, actually. People spend the day there and have barbecues or campfires.” 

“Yeah, I’ve heard about that one,” he says. “You guys party by the lake during summer or something like that.” 

“Yes.” then you keep quiet for a few breaths, imagining he’s probably heard it from one of his friends from the basketball team. They’re usually to host parties or organize them. It always involves loads of alcohol and ends up in big scandals. You feel the urge to correct him. “Not me, though. I don’t, uh…I don’t party.” 

You feel his eyes on you. “Makes sense.”

You look up at him in question. 

“Didn’t see you at the Halloween party.”

“The one hosted by Tina Williams?” you soon look away as soon as you meet his gaze. “I didn’t know you…you noticed.”

“Would’ve sure as hell noticed if you were there.”

As Billy's words settle in, you feel a warmth spreading through you, starting from the tips of your ears and flushing your cheeks crimson. His simple compliment catches you off guard, igniting a whirlwind of emotions within you. You find yourself struggling to meet his gaze, your eyes flickering away as you search for some semblance of composure. None of this makes sense. The mere fact that he recognized your absence at the party, that he shared lunch with you, that he's now walking beside you in the park—it all feels inexplicable. You're accustomed to blending into the background, being an outcast in the bustling halls of the school. You're no stranger to the whispers that swirl around you, painting you as the outsider, the comments about your situation at home, the subtle jabs at your circumstances. The silence between you stretches, pregnant with unspoken thoughts. 

“You alright?” you hear him ask.

You slow down, lingering to a stop as you realize Billy has stopped walking too. He looks down at you with a hint of curiosity, the sun caressing his golden skin and reflecting in his eyes, becoming like polished, crystalline gems. That’s when you notice little details you haven’t paid attention to before. The scar cutting through his right eyebrow, the pattern of freckles dusting his nose. 

“I guess I’m just a little confused,” you admit. 

Billy exhales the smoke from his nostrils, his gaze effortlessly fixed intensely on you. “Why is that?”

“I just…” you try to not avoid his gaze. “Why are you here with me?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement and what looks like genuine confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

His question is so simple it takes you off guard. Makes you question your reasoning. As you’re at a loss for words, you feel a blush slowly creeping down your cheeks. 

Billy’s lips slowly curve into a smile, somewhat teasing. “You really have pretty eyes, you know that?”

You’re positively sure you’re as red as a lobster now, a little whine escaping your lips as embarrassment settles over you. It’s the most instinctual reaction. It makes him chuckle, and makes you awkwardly laugh in response, because what else can you do? He tilts his head to the side, trying to meet your avoiding eyes. 

“How about that? I’m here with you ‘cause of your pretty eyes”. 

“I really don’t think they’re that special.” you shake your head, still laughing. 

You’re not that innocent to not realise he’s openly flirting with you. You’re not surprised, because just looking at him is enough. You’ve also heard things about him and some girls at high school. What surprises you, is that he’s flirting with you. You don’t have that much experience in the love department, but there’s something sincere and genuine in the way he’s doing it now. There’s something soft in his eyes that tells you he’s sincere.

“Well, it’s a shame,” he says, that’s when you realise how much closer you are to each other. You can tell by how you can smell the tobacco and his cologne, his silver earring shining as it catches the sun. He tilts his head again, this time catching your gaze as you muster the courage to lock eyes with him. “’Cause you have beautiful eyes.”

“Thank you,” you mumble with a shy smile, nodding your head slightly. You swear you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. 

You feel like you want to return the compliment because his eyes are the reason why your heart is reacting the way it does. But then again, you’re too shy to do that, and a tiny part of you thinks it would make things weird or would end up having you vulnerable because you don’t know for sure if his compliment is fueled by real interest in you. 

“I just don’t hang out with anyone, trust me.”

As a distant church bells toll four times, their echoes drifting across the park, a subtle reminder of the passing time washes over you both. The realization settles in that it’s time for you to go. You should be back in front of the museum in half an hour. 

Luckily, Billy saves you from answering as he breaks eye contact and looks up beyond your shoulder, where the church is. “We should go,” he says.

As you walk back to the museum, you think about his words. Now you realize that you didn’t see him hanging around Tommy Hagan lately. In particular, today on the bus, the latter was seated with his girlfriend and hung out with two other members of the basketball team. Billy was somewhere else the whole time.

When you two reach the museum, the teacher is already counting everyone to make sure the whole class is there. Billy joins his mates, elbowing one of them in a friendly gesture. You didn’t fail the notice the looks most of your classmates shot at you when he saw you two arrive together. The teacher draws the class's attention back to the trip, prompting feedback and reflections from everyone.

What you don’t expect either once on the bus, is feeling someone sitting on the empty seat next to yours. Billy gets comfortable, making it seem something so normal as he stretches his long legs as far as the cramped quarters allow. His thigh brushes against yours and your heart jumps a little in your ribcage, but a few minutes later you start to relax. You can’t help the feeling of warmth spreading through your chest as you take in his choice to sit deliberately next to you. You don’t need to fill the silence, or at least not as strongly as a few hours ago. You’re also quite tired. As you venture a glance in his direction, Billy’s eyes are closed. It seems you’re not the only one feeling tired. His arms are crossed over his chest but his facial features are totally relaxed now that he’s dozing off, his head resting against the seat. His hair seems soft at the touch, a curl falling unruly on his forehead. You feel the distant urge to wrap it around your finger, brush it from his face. There is a difference between now and when he’s fully awake: his expression softened, his gaze peaceful, and his features relaxed. It's a stark contrast from the demeanor you've observed from a distance, where his smile is more wolfish, his facial muscles tense, and his eyes often distant or bored. You force yourself to look away from him, setting your gaze on the window. As the rhythmic hum of the bus lulls you into a state of drowsiness, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. The warmth of the moment envelops you, and soon, you find yourself dozing off as well. 

Once you get off the bus, you wrap your arms around your waist as you shiver. The weather is distinctly different. It seems to have been raining all day. The sky is darkening. School buses cannot take you home because there is no bus stop near your house. Forest Hill Trailer Park is in the isolated part of Hawkins. There is no one from the high school living there, so you can't ask anyone for a ride. It's not like anyone would have offered anyway. You've always walked to and from school, in total it takes you forty minutes. As you start to walk away from the bus, you hear footsteps behind you and Billy is at your side, effortlessly catching up with you. You realize his car is parked a few steps away from you. The gleaming navy blue Camaro stands out among the other cars, ‘CALIFORNIA’ on the license plate.

You take the opportunity to thank him before he can dart away and you will probably never exchange another word again.

“Hey,” you start, turning to look at him. “I just wanted to thank you for paying at lunch today.”

Billy plays with the lighter, making it bounce in his hand. “It’s nothing. How are you getting home?”

“Oh, I’m walking.” you point your thumb at the road on your left.

“Come on. I’ll drive you.”

Your mouth opens and closes stupidly, then your brain finally decides to cooperate. Accepting his offer feels like taking advantage of his kindness. You don't want to do this. “I…it’s not a long walk, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s probably gonna rain soon.” he points at the sky, walking past you and toward the parked car.

“You don’t have to.” you insist, guilt filling my stomach as he opens the passenger door for you.

“I know.” he chuckles. 

The soft thrumming of a rock song fills the air, the bass pulsing gently as Billy lowers the volume as soon as he turns the engine on. The interior of the Camaro envelops you in a world that feels distinctly his. The smell of leather fills your senses, mingling with the faint scent of his cologne. It's clear that he takes immense pride in his car and the care and attention he devotes to it reflects on the interior. The leather seats feel soft and smooth. There's not a speck of dust anywhere, even in the corners. A pair of aviators rests on the dashboard. 

You give him directions, your voice cutting through the quiet ambiance of the car. He nods in acknowledgment, his gaze focused on the road ahead. His left arm casually drapes against the window, while his other hand firmly grasps the top of the steering wheel. 

“It’s quite a walk,” he observes as the Camaro speeds through the road surrounded by the woods. 

“Yeah…”

You’re thinking of asking him to stop before getting to Forest Hill, but it’s pouring and you don’t have an umbrella. As you get closer and closer, anxiety starts rippling through you. You shake the feeling out of your head. You’re being ridiculous, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. Additionally, you barely know him. You try and distract yourself, asking him about where he lives instead.

“Cherry Lane. You know where it is?” 

“Yes, it’s a nice and quiet area. It’s not that far from school either,” you observe.

Billy absently scratches his chin, the glint of a silver braided ring catching your eye. “Yeah. It’s quiet, that’s for sure.” 

You find yourself wondering about its significance. Does it have one? You've heard numerous accounts of Billy's involvement in fights at parties, tales of the severe injuries sustained by those who crossed him, and the ferocity of his punches. How many times has that ring been tainted with someone else's blood? Despite the rumors surrounding his aggressive behavior, your interactions with Billy have always been positive. He's consistently shown kindness to you.

Billy turns left, veering off the main road onto a narrow side road, the tires crunching on the gravelly dirt path that winds its way towards Forest Hills. The rain drums insistently against the car, a steady rhythm punctuating the silence between you.

The first trailer emerges into view, its weather-beaten exterior casting a shadow of foreboding over your already uneasy mind. Despite your discomfort, you muster the courage to speak up, directing Billy to continue driving until the end of the road.

You steal a furtive glance at him, searching for any hint of judgment in his expression, but Billy remains impassive. There's no trace of surprise or disdain in his features. His gaze lingers on the scene before you, studying it with a detached curiosity that seems to characterize his view of Hawkins as a whole.

“Thanks again for today, really. I wanna pay you back,” you venture as he slows down.

Billy waves a dismissive hand before settling it on the gear shift, smoothly transitioning into first gear. “I told you it’s no big deal. Wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

You worry at your lip, still not totally convinced. You glance at him. “I know that. But it doesn’t sound fair. It’s important to me.”

Billy's gaze shifts to the road ahead as he seemingly considers your words. "If you really wanna make it up to me," he starts, his voice trailing off for a moment before he continues, "How about you show me around Hawkins sometime?"

You blink, caught off guard by his suggestion. "Show you around Hawkins?"

"Yeah," he nods, resting his forearm loosely on the steering wheel as he gestures while he talks. "I've only been here a short while, and I don't really know my way around outside downtown yet. Like, all the places you talked to me about. The lake, the quarry."

The idea appeals to you, though the thought of spending more time with him outside of school never crossed your mind. The fact of spending time with him in the first place was out off the charts for you. "Sure, I could do that," you reply, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I mean, I'm not exactly a tour guide, but I could show you some cool spots. Whenever you want, uhm. Yeah.”

Billy reaches out to the compartment on the passenger side, brushing your knee with his arm. He opens it and extracts a pen. 

“Here,” he takes off the cap with his teeth, and before you know it he’s taking your arm, gently lifting your sweater sleeve. 

You try to look unfazed by his touch, though the feeling of his fingertips pressing gently against your skin as he holds your forearm, the sensation of the pen as he writes something on it makes you shiver, raising goosebumps. You look at him in silent confusion as he writes, his dark lashes brushing his cheekbones, a glimpse of pearly white teeth and a sharp canine as he holds the cap between them. Then he releases your arm, and you take a look at it while he takes the cap from his mouth. A series of numbers are written in blue ink on your skin. A phone number.

“Oh.” you say softly. You definitely haven’t expected that.

“Call me when you feel like it.” 

It’s really hard for you to hide your nervousness, acting as cool as you can.

“Okay, will do.” you unbuckle your belt, glancing at him enough to give him a soft smile.

Billy nods at you in silent farewell before you close the passenger door. “Have a good night”.

“You too. Bye.”

The warmth of Billy's presence lingers in the car as you step out into the cool, damp air, the raindrops falling softly around you. Closing the door behind you, you watch as the sleek navy blue Camaro disappears down the little road and into the woods from the small window of the living room. As you stand there, the drops of water falling from the end of your hair, you can't help but brush at the phone number on your forearm, tracing the neat handwriting with your fingertips. It's like you're still trying to wrap your head around what just happened. Though you're trying to keep it under control, you can't help the fluttering feeling in your heart.

[mochinomnoms]

Ok si for the small snippet requests- ptm jadeyuu, but it's at the point where yuu starts getting a little downbad and just starts playing into jades lil scenarios more and he freaks out cause his day is going SO MUCH BETTER now. Thank you!

🦩

Having a crush when you're a mind reader can have its cons...but also some pros~

Also I wrote this while listening to Brooklyn Baby by Lana Del Rey, I very recommend listening while reading for the vibe

You blew hot air against your hands, rubbing them as you watched the snow fall outside the window.

Winter had come early this year and your dorm members had taken to playing in the snow. Everyone was enjoying themselves, even Aspen was smiling, though yelping as he was smacked in the face by a snowball.

You laughed as he chased after Tony, tackling him into the ground as they both cackled with a red flush over their cheeks.

Ramshackle had very little traffic, even with the students in your care, which left it rather pristine and ideal for making snowmen and fights. Plenty of students from the other dorms were hanging around between classes, some even in your kitchen making warm drinks and snacks.

Which is why you weren't surprised when a mug of hot chocolate appeared in your peripheral vision. Looking up, you softly smiled and gave a small 'thank you' as you took the mug from Jade, who took a spot next to you, leaning against the porch railing to watch the small group of students playing in the snow.

He was in the winter version of the school uniform, which just came with a thicker jacket, a scarf, boots, and snow gloves. Though, you're positive that Aspen mentioned that none of them needed it, as they were well acquainted with the cold. It was mostly to keep up appearances, Floyd being the exception as he forwent the gloves and jacket.

My pretty pearl, you look radiant against the snowfall. I feel like I'm falling for you all over again…

Your cheeks warmed, despite the biting cold, and you masked your smile behind your mug as Jade stared at you from the corner of his eyes. When you dared to look at him, his gazed immediately darted back to the others. He had a red flush over his cheeks, which could be due to the cold, but you knew better.

Both of you chuckled as Silas, holding a giant snowball over their head, jumped and slammed the snow on top of Yaqub's head with a shit eating grin.

“They seem to be having fun. I know Floyd is coming over to have a snowball fight with Tony in a bit, will you be joining?”

You shook your head, watching the marshmallows swirl in your mug.

“Nah, I'm probably gonna head in here in a few. My hands are freezing, and I don't have gloves anyways.” You sighed, drinking your hot chocolate and relishing in the warmth flowing to your belly.

Jade tilted his head, watching as you lifted one of your hands to blow on it again.

“Would you like some help warming up?” You weren't surprised at the flash of an image of Jade and you 'warming up' in front of the lounge fireplace under a lush blanket. “I'm happy to assist.”

You know what response he was waiting for. You know that he'd come to expect your flustered and panicked stammering, putting as much space between you two as possible. It's a very 'you' response.

I can do this, I can give the same energy! Yeah! No more playing around with me, Jade! It's my turn!

“Hmm? And just how do you plan to 'warm me up' Jade~” You cooed, batting your eyelashes and smiling up at him.

You're surprised just how���sultry that came out. I didn't think I could sound like…like…something out of Jade's daydreams! Jade seemed surprised as well, snapping his head to stare at you.

His face still had his same polite smile, though you swear his cheeks turned a bit more red.

“…Pardon? Could you repeat that?” Jade asked, though there was a bit of breathlessness to his voice.

Did you…no I must have imagined…

“Well, there's lots of ways to warm someone up,” You shrugged, looking down at your drink and tracing the edge of the mug. “You caaaan…start a fire…get me a blanket…skin to skin contact…”

Haaaah, is this real?

“Human lovers will cuddle with each other, and do more...intimate things together to warm up.” You finally turned to face him, watching him visibly swallow.

Now I'm just being mean.

“Is…that so? That's good to know.” Jade's voice sounded strained, though his face betrayed very little. If it wasn't for the screaming echoing through his mind, you wouldn't be able to tell this was effecting him.

“Mmh, so, Jade~” You slowly crept closer to him, your still free hand doing the same along the rail to inch closer to his fingertips.

“How do you plan to warm me up, Jade?”

You had to crane your head to look up, causing a creak in the back of your neck, as there was barely an inch of space between you two. Frankly, though, it was worth it to see the wide-eyed surprise on his face.

It's real! Bless the Seven! It'srealIt'srealIt'srealIt'srealIt'sreal—

“Well, I—”

“Can watch everyone while I warm up in the kitchen!” You chirped, quickly backing away and smiling. “I'm sure it's plenty warm in there with the others running the oven!”

W-what?

Hmph, that's what he gets. You started walking away towards the front door, a smug smile on your face. Just a taste of what he puts me through every day—

You swallowed a shriek as Jade caged you against the wall with his arms, dropping your mug in surprise. You could hear it clatter against the wood floor and the hot drink fizzle against the cold surface.

Curling in on yourself, you looked up at Jade, who was giving you a smile and narrowed glare, his sharp teeth visible. He had a glint in his eyes and his flush was growing down to his neck.

“Now, now my dear,” he leaned down, speaking softly as he hovered his face closer and closer to yours, until you pressed your hands against his chest, stopping him.

“It's not nice to be a tease, stunts like that would get you eaten up in the sea.” Jade's nose brushed against yours, his smile growing as you grew more flustered.

“Unless, you're trying to be a tease~” Jade's right hand moved to graze your cheek with his finger.

This is going too far, I should…

Your skin felt tingly as he ghosted down to your chin, tracing the tip of his thumb against your bottom lip.

“Talking about lovers, acting coy.”

…I should make him…stop…

He pulled it down, ever so slightly, making you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

Cute…

“You shouldn't play around with things like that.”

“I'm…not…” you let out a whimper as his breath mixed with yours, lips hovering over your own. You could hear his breath hitch at the sound.

“No? Then prove it, unless you want me to 'warm you up' in front of everyone?”

Swallowing another whimper and feeling your cheeks and body warm from something other than your drink, you licked your lips. You felt him shudder as your lips just barely brush, moving to press them together—

“Ooooh, how scandalous!”

You shrieked, out loud this time, shoving Jade away as you accidentally smack his face to get some space between you two.

“Ack!” Jade covered his face with his hands, wrinkling his nose from the sudden pain.

You stared in a mix of embarrassment and bewilderment at the small group watching you two at the railing.

Silas was grinning, fulling leaning his body over the railing as he kicked his legs behind him like a child. Yaqub and Tony looked just as amused, the former hiding his giggling behind his hand. Aspen, to no one's surprised, had a sour look on his face, disappointed even, while Wynfred was pouting. Marion had the decently to look embarrassed that he was caught staring, looking down at his feet like they were the most interesting things he'd seen all day. James, sweet James, just looked confused.

“…I didn't know you two were dating?”

“We're not!” You waved your hands in a panic, laughing nervously as you stepped away from Jade, who was now glaring at the group with an annoyed frown.

“Then, why were you two kissing—” James jumped, as did the rest of the group as you screeched.

“HE WAS JUST BLOWING HOT AIR ON MY HANDS, THAT'S IT! NOTHING ELSE!”

You laughed manically as you clapped your hands, inching closer to the door.

“You know I'm still cold! Are you guys cold? Yeah, you are!” You continued nervously laughing as you turned and practically bolted to the front door, the snow on the ledges falling from the sheer force of your slam.

The group and Jade stared at where you disappeared, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop in the snow.

“…So you two were, like, totally making out, right?” Silas asked, letting out an 'oof' as Marion smack that back of their head, making them fall face-first into the wooden patio.

Jade gave his signature smile, bowing his head.

“Perhaps you all should go back to playing, I should check on the poor Prefect, though might I advise not interrupting a pair's private conversation next time?”

Yaqub scoffed, elbowing Tony as he teased, “Conversation, sure. Maybe next time you two should have your next 'conversation' in the bedroom?”

The two snorted, Tony choking into a cough at Aspen's glare.

“Thank you for the kind suggestion, I'll be sure to consider it.” Jade called out as he entered the dorm, determined to continue from where you two left off.

[janesgms]

< How you act when you're in love >

5H/7H house ruler in scorpio/8H house/8°/20° degrees: can, at its worst, make someone very obsessive, possessive, explosive, jealous and even an stalker when they're in love with someone ☠️ help. at its best, can make someone very passionate, intense, powerful, protective and sensual when in love, the type to go to the moon and back just for their lover. it's giving very ride or die vibes. The same definition can apply to venus aspecting pluto. Songs:

Him and I - G-eazy & Halsey

Woo - Rihanna

The whole Reputation album - Taylor Swift

The Weeknd songs

Paparazzi - Lady Gaga

Collide - Justine Skye

Middle of The Night - Elley Duhé

Babydoll - Ari Abdul

Animals - Maroon 5

Crazy in Love - Beyoncé

The whole Ultraviolence album - Lana Del Rey

Unforgettable - French Montana

Heaven - Julia Michaels

The whole Badlands album - Halsey

Killbill - SZA

L.E.S - Donald Glover

5H/7H house ruler in cancer/4H house/4°/16°/28° degrees:: can, at its worst, make someone extremely manipulative, moody, vengeful and irrational when in love with someone. at its best, can make someone very caring, loving, protective, nostalgic and nurturing when in love, they really like to spoil their partner emotionally. The same definition can apply to venus aspecting moon. Songs:

The Heart Wants What It Wants - Selena Gomez

Highschool Sweethearts - Melanie Martinez

Reminder - The Weeknd

Paparazzi - Lady Gaga

Part Of Me - Katy Perry

Te Amo - Rihanna

Alejandro - Lady Gaga

Sweather Weather - Arctic Monkeys

I wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys

Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Rey

deja vu - Olivia Rodrigo

Outside - Calvin Harris

Earned It - The Weeknd

The whole Born To Die album - Lana Del Rey (including the paradise songs 😘)

Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish

5H/7H house ruler in pisces/12H house/12°/24° degrees: can, at its worst, make someone delusional, blind, influencial, escapist, and moody when in love. at its best, can make someone sensitive, empathetic, dreamy, empathetic, creative, profound, feeling unexplainable feelings, and VERY romantic when in love, they're probably the types to write poetry and imagine a fairytale with their loved one. The same definition can apply to venus aspecting neptune. Songs:

Love you like a love song - Selena Gomez

Love Story - Taylor Swift

Bad Romance - Lady Gaga (a song deditaced for their terrible taste in men, specially, but in women too 💞)

Training Wheels - Melanie Martinez

I'm yours - Isabel LaRosa

Renegade - Aaryah Shaah

The bridge of What a Life - Jhene Aiko

Why'd You Only Call Me Whem You're High - Arctic Monkeys

#icanteven - The NBHD

Happiness Is A Butterfly - Lana Del Rey

I Love You - 2ne1

Loonatic - LOONA

America - XYLØ

High Enough - K.Flay

The whole soundtrack of Euphoria - Labyrnth

Psyechedelic Addict - Anuka

As someone with these 3 placements (scorpio/pisces/4th/8th houses), I really liked doing this post since it's something very personal to me! 💕 Also, one thing I notice is that all these placements usually listen to a lot of music, more than the usual, when in love.

Mini tutorial in case you don't know how to see your rulers. Look at the signs in your 5th and 7th houses, then look at where the planets who rule these signs are in your natal. For ex: I have a 5th house in sagittarius, so I need to look at my jupiter, sagittarius ruler, who is in scorpio in the 4th house. For this, I indicate for you to look at the modern rulership, but in case you don't identify with the characteristics, look at the traditional ruler.

[valentinaagarcia]

twisted wonderland characters as things i've heard in the locker room... pt.3

(yall re probably like "what the hell val? another one🤨🤨 yes. another one. ans for my new readers- im on the boys team as a gril)

(yuu is what i responded)

----

floyd: sometimes i just feel like i wanna kill myself

ace: me too man

jamil: im actually gonna kill myself.

----

ace: sticking our your gyatt...

floyd: for the rizzler...

jamil: get out.

----

ruggie: i love you man have a good game

leona: yeah.

ruggie: your not gonna say i love you back?

leona: what if i killed myself

----

yuu: someone hook me up

kalim: i have a cousin i dated for three months before realizing she was my cousin, i could hook you up with her!

yuu: what th???

----

ace: yeah and the worker was like "dont open door i told you dont open door!" (filipino accent)

deuce: oh oh and then he was like "i scold you, you open door again i hit you!" (filipino accent.... not filipino)

ace: ohawh.. man uh.

deuce: what?

yuu: dude you cant say it like that since your not asian

deuce: what? but you talk like a hispanic person all the time?

yuu: i wonder why.

----

riddle: okay, lets just move on from the accent thing alright?

deuce: yep! ill stick to my accent and stop using others

trey: howdy y'all, good game mate

deuce: howdy mate! good gam..

riddle: ...

deuce: ill stop using other accents... starting now

----

cater: hispanics are so HOTT like you guys dont get it

jack: shut up were meditating before the game quit it with your hispanic fetish.... god

cater: you guys dont get it.

----

ace: personally, i listen to justin bieber

jamil: im more into lana del rey

jack: megan for me

floyd: i listen to cardi b! how about you, yuu?

yuu: laufey and alex g

malleus: i love you (listens to both)

----

malleus: mary or sarah?

yuu: sandy

----

ace: yo dude i think yuu might be buffer than jack

deuce: no way???

ace: YUU JACK

yuu:huh

jack: hm?

ace: can you both flex your muscles???

----

jack: you are not buffer than me.

yuu: shut up hoe, this is why i got a bigger dick than you

jack: you have a penis?...

yuu: for sure bigger than yours.

(i do in fact, not have a penis)

----

floyd: okay so listen guys, we need to get the shampoo and shove it upp our areolas and run around naked on basket field

azul: who.. wha??? oh my god are you high?

yuu: its the ace incident all over again...

----

epel: yuu genuine question, what does pussy taste like

yuu: ....? it tastes like pussy?

epel: i just ate a pussy.

yuu: man....good for you i guess? wait WHAT

----

(for context a bird flew into the glass and flew into the locker rooms)

deuce: OH MY GOD?!?

epel: KILL IT

kalim: no dont kill it!

ace: yuu do something!!!!

yuu: why are you asking me? your the man

floyd: JUST DO SOMETHING

yuu: ugh.... men only act proud and strong to flaunt.

----

floyd & kalim: THERES A SPIDER

kalim: JAMIL HELP... me?

jamil: *fucking hiding on top of the lockers*

----

yuu: why didnt i become a cheerleader.

[sanjisboyfie]

when you know, you know.

-> basketball player gojo satoru x male reader

requested!!! a rlly old req from an anon in my inbox <3 ty for the req and jm so sorry it took so long however the 6k+ word count hopefully makes up for that. + listen to margaret by lana del rey on repeat for the full affect

-> prev

warnings : satoru ooc (i do NOT agree w that warning but i GUESS I could see why someone would disagree 🙄🙄🙄), very fluffy to the point it seems angsty!!! talk about the homosexuals!!!! satoru mentions small familial conflict in the interview portion

diamond on your ring

cause when you know, you know

when you know, you know

“thank you so much for agreeing to a sit down interview, gojo-sama,” the interviewer politely bows to the tall man the second satoru walks into the room. immediately, he bows in response, finding the sudden formalities almost abnormal.

at this point, he was so used to other interviews he’d done be super quick, informal and just reporters looking for answers to their questions with little regard for things such as respect.

this was a breath of fresh air, but satoru couldn’t help but feel bad for the interviewer whose back must be hurting now with how long they’d been bowing.

“oh, please, no need for such strong formalities,” satoru chimed in, gently resting his hand on their shoulder to goad them into standing upright, “gojo is fine, too, no need for the honorifics. it’s not like i’m royalty,” he joked, hoping to lift the mood in the room.

it seemed to work as the interviewer finally cracked a smile and dropped their shoulders from being so stiffly held up to their ear.

“then, gojo-san, please take a seat and we can get you all mic’d up for the interview. it should take no longer than a half hour, longest running an hour and a half, but we really don’t want to take up too much of your time,” satoru shook his head, assuring them that it was fine and then taking his seat.

he noticed that the cameras were already filming, but didn’t think twice on it. technically, from the moment he stepped foot in the room, the interview already started. that’s what it said on paper, at least.

“erm, to just go over what we might be discussing in this interview,” the reporter said, clearing their throat as they looked over their list of questions, “since this is a very specific interview, the questions are going to mainly be centered around your romantic relationships and very personal questions,”

satoru nodded, moving in his seat to allow the staff better access in getting the microphone to stay hidden in his clothes, “yeah, my manager sent me the general idea of questions of stuff you’d be asking, it’s alright with me,” he said, taking off his sunglasses, “plus i think i’m pretty familiar with the publisher and the audience, so it’s alright. really, ask me anything, this would probably the only time i’d do something like this,” he encouraged with a friendly smile, trying to show his genuinity.

the interviewer nodded in understanding, clicking their pen and writing a note in their notepad.

satoru had done his research beforehand. the publisher that was interviewing him, or rather the person interviewing him in steed of the company, was a pretty vocal LGBTQ+ company. it was a rare occurance in japanese media, especially as a standalone party, but they proved successful. satoru knew why they were interviewing him, obviously because he was gay and very outwordly apart of the community. he also knew that they were always respectful individuals, which is why he didn’t hesitate in accepting the interview.

if he was going to be asked about his sexuality and his very much gay relationship, he’d rather it be done through a respectful, and most likely very understanding, person rather than those that would shout at him invasive questions.

“then, are you ready, gojo-san?” the interviewer snapped him out of his daydream, making him nod his head. “let’s test the mic really quick, then we can jump into it,”

“i am gojo satoru,” he recited, looking at the staff for a thumbs up on the feedback. when he got a positive thumbs up, the interviewer followed with their own test and then they were able to get into the interview.

“let’s start with introductions, i’m ishii haruto and i’ll be the one interviewing you today, gojo-san. lovely to meet you,” he bowed his head in greeting, making satoru follow suit.

a relaxed grin was on his face as he introduced himself again, “i haven’t said it before, but i’m gojo satoru,” it was a small joke that uplifted the mood of the room once more. haruto appreciated it, laughing to himself at satoru’s subtle charisma.

”well, to get right into the interview, let’s start with hard hitting questions,” satoru braced himself, clenching his fists in his pant’s pocket, “how are you?”

satoru smiled, shooting a fake warning look haruto’s way, “i’m wonderful, how are you ishii-san? i hope you’re doing well, too,”

“i’m doing very well. it’s an honor to interview you, thank you for giving us this opportunity,” haruto said, subtly bowing his head once more, “you truly don’t understand how inspiring it will be for the rest of japan to hear your story, you’re doing such a big thing for all of us in this room, and for those that will read this interview later. so, really, thank you, gojo-san,”

satoru pursed his lips at the sentimentality, realizing quickly that this interview was going to be really different than anything he’d ever experienced before. “sobering” up a little bit, he smiled at haruto and nodded his head, “i’m happy to be here, too. i hope whoever reads this learns something about themselves,”

“yes, that will be the end goal,” haruto agreed before looking down at his notepad, “well, i guess we can just start off with this one — when did you know you were gay?”

satoru hummed, “i don’t really know. for me, i guess it was always in the back of my mind? i mean, i never had a crush on a girl growing up. and i thought it was normal. my parents did as well, seeing how driven i was from a young age to be successful in basketball, i think they wrote it off as me just being determined to make my dreams come true. no time for distractions, or something like that. but deep down, i think i always knew.” he paused, crossing his legs as he decided to add one more tidbit, “and i never thought it was wrong, either. to me, having a crush on a boy wasn’t a big deal. i just thought, huh, this sucks i like someone, i might get distracted from basketball now,”

the two shared a laugh at his joking remark at the end, but until that point the interviewer was very immersed in the personal story. he was even humming in acknowledgement of everything he was saying, as if he related.

“so when you began pursuing your current boyfriend, it was not a big deal for you? even given your position as a famous basketball player?” then haruto looked at the camera men and held his hand up, a signal of some sort that satoru was cued in on, and leaned forward, “would it be alright if we refer to him with his name?”

satoru quickly nodded, understanding now that the hand gesture meant for their mics to be cut so that they wouldn’t receive any audio.

then they were back on and satoru answered the original question, “no, it wasn’t a huge deal. well, it was to everyone else, i guess. but to me and my close friends, it wasn’t. they already knew i was really into him and had a big crush on him before i did, so it really wasn’t a big shock when i made my efforts more obvious. well, as obvious as you can get with having everyone watching you. i tried to reel it in a little when my friend’s told me he may not be comfortable with all the attention, that was the only time i really was aware of it and began to calm down on my advances,”

“oh, so it wasn’t a big deal to you, but in consideration of his feelings, you kind of held back a little bit?”

“yeah, because if things ended up not working out, then all the neutral attention we were getting would have become negative. rumors could’ve started that would’ve hurt him, and i definitely didn’t want that, so yeah,” satoru said, reiterating his main point from earlier, “i just wanted him to be comfortable whenever we were in public,”

“that’s really considerate of you, gojo-san,” the interviewer complimented, making satoru laugh with a wave of his hand.

“he never asked for all the attention in the first place, i definitely didn’t want to make our already secretive position more hostile than it needed to be,” satoru explained, “so everything had to be toned down. fortunately, he was very understanding and could see where i was coming from.”

“what do you mean by that? did he ever say anything about it?”

“well, we’re just like any other couple. we just want privacy and respect, some people don’t want to give it to us. those people that just want to hurt our relationship just because we’re both guys. if i wasn't as famous as i am, i’d imagine it’d be easier to mange. not that it still wouldn’t be stressful — but at least, not the entire country would be breathing down our necks,” satoru explained, choosing his words carefully. “no matter what, though, if you’re in a relationship with someone of the same sex, it’s going to be hard.”

“that’s true, but you two have faced a lot of very hard obstacles. it’s sad how many times people have wished to see you two broken up,” haruto said, an angry look on his face, “how did you two manage to overcome those obstacles?”

“well, we had each other, loved ones, and close friends as support systems. they were really helpful and sweet, they were the most understanding. but i think, the most important one, was that we had each other. we were in it together. not to say that all the negative attention was good or even worth it, but it made our love for one another stronger,” satoru sighed, thinking about the early days when he was first officially dating [name], “i just wish they were nicer to him. he didn’t deserve any of it,”

there was a pause of respect from haruto before they continued on, “you said you had support of loved ones and close friends — were they supportive from the get-go or did it take “convincing” for them to understand?”

“most of them were really understanding and could see that my love for him was too strong to be denied, so that was nice. but there were definitely instances of family members not understanding or simply refusing to support,” satoru answered with a grim look on his face.

“how did you deal with that?”

“well, it was mainly family members, unfortunately, that rejected my lifestyle. so i had to do the best thing and cut them off. i couldn’t have them in my ear telling me that i wasn’t meant to be this way or that [name] and i’s relationship had to be put to a stop. so i cut them off completely and haven’t spoken to them since. i could afford to make that sacrifice since i had [name] and others as support. he really helped me through that and the realization that not everyone will understand or see it as we do…you just have to learn how to deal with it in each situation and circumstance,”

haruto hummed in intrigue and understanding, “was it hard? cutting them off and coming to that realization?”

“i would say it wasn’t as hard as one would think…not when i love [name] so much i’d sacrifice anything to be with him. i wasn’t going to settle for anything passive aggressive or half-assed when it came to support of my relationship with him. like i said, i wasn’t going to let anyone bad mouth him or our relationship, i wouldn’t settle for that in exchange of keeping blood relatives around. even if someone is family, if they hurt someone i love, it still counts for something. they’re still hurting him and in turn hurting me. that’s not family anymore,” satoru said definitively. he had a hard look on his face. almost the one that was only mirrored whenever he was on the court. it showed how serious of a topic it was to him.

“seeing you so be so openly protective and in love with your boyfriend has gotten you two a lot of attention over the years, most of it is praise from others since they do think it’s adorable. does affection that you show [name] come very naturally?”

“of course it does,” satoru grinned, happy to move onto more lighthearted topics. he had the widest grin on his face now, thinking of when he would go home and cuddle his boyfriend, “i’m a very affectionate person, anyway. ask suguru, he’ll tell you,” with the reference to his best friend, who plays on the same team as him, haruto grins, “but i made sure that [name] was comfortable with it first and then went on from what he was okay with, until we got to the point right now where we both don’t really care,

if i know i’m in love with my boyfriend, i want other people to know as well. there was a bad rep surrounding me, in my early days especially. everyone thought i was a playboy, for some reason,” he shyly scratched the back of his head, “so i thought that me showing that i was very loyal and very much in love with my boyfriend, people would stop thinking that of me. and it worked! so, it was a win-win situation,”

haruto nods, looking at his cue cards with a grin, “and you two have had a really long relationship-”

“almost coming on 5 years now,” satoru giggles, a blush evident on his pale cheeks, “it doesn’t feel that long, though,”

“yeah, it’s as if it was only yesterday the two of you made it public and sent everyone into a panic,” the two laugh at the memory. the headlines that day going hysterical over the basketball player’s very much gay personal life. “and since you’ve been in a relationship for so long, has it ever crossed your mind to tie the knot permanently? settle down with [name]?”

satoru paused, the smile on his face faltering ever so slightly as he repeated the question in his mind.

marriage with [name] always was the answer. but, the idea of when and where and how never crossed satoru’s mind. well, it did. in repeated passing thoughts. but, never long enough for him to commit to the idea. he’s thought of how he would do it, where, but never really when. and even then, the how and where were never set in stone. he wanted it to be romantic, definitely had to be something that the two would retell to their kids one day as the most romantic and loving gesture satoru has ever done.

but “when”…satoru never put a pin in the calendar on what date.

he hummed where he sat, resting his chin in his palms as he thought about how to answer.

“huh, well…i know i’m going to marry him someday,” satoru assures the interviewer, who was silently panicking that they had accidentally asked a question too invasive, “but, i think i’ll keep the details of that to myself, haha,” satoru played it off as a tease, but internally he was sweating bullets.

there was never going to be a right time. a right time insinuates a moment where satoru is so overwhelmed with love that a proposal would be the only verbal indicator of that feeling.

but, satoru has been so madly and deeply in love with [name] for so long already that the “right time” feels like every waking moment.

when the two moved in together, made that huge, empty house a home for themselves. when he took [name] on their first overseas trip and they learned even more about each other. when satoru takes him home for the holidays where he just so perfectly matches with his family members and comes even more out of his shell.

satoru’s been so in love with [name] for so long it feels like they’re already married. [name] knows him like the back of his hand and vice versa.

it was as if he always knew. he just knew in the back of his mind that they’d end up standing in perfectly tailored suits at the end of the aisle, saying heartfelt and cheesy vows to each other. satoru knows he’ll probably end up crying more than [name] and he knows that that day will be the happiest he’ll ever be.

the question made his head spin around as a flurry of questions of when he would propose filled his head, but it did solidify one thing. the fact that satoru just knows that one day he’ll end up being [name]’s husband and [name] his. and he wants that day to come sooner rather than later.

”well, i think the final question for our interview today that can wrap this up, will be: do you have any advice for young aspiring individuals that might read this and see this side of you?”

satoru gulped, suddenly feeling as if the temperature in the room had gone up twenty degrees. he tugged on the collar of his button up, swallowing as he spoke carefully, “just always be true to yourself and your dreams. it doesn’t matter what other people think because if you know what you want and you know that it’s your dreams on the line, there shouldn’t be anything standing between you and that goal. whether it be a person you want to pursue or if it’s your dream career, don’t give up.” he attempted a smile at haruto and it seemed to have done its work as the interviewer bowed his head deeply in gratitude.

the two finished the closing remarks of the interview with fluidity. he handed the mic back to the staff, who thanked him with their heads bowed. but before he could leave, he pulled haruto aside and lowered his voice, “uhm, could you hold off on publishing this for a while?”

haruto blinked rapidly, a nervous look coming onto his face, “well, the editing and transcription of the video will take some time, probably a little over a month…how long were you thinking of keeping it under wraps, gojo-san?”

it was a plead to not make him push the publication date back further. satoru hums, “a little over a month?”

“yes, that is what my advisor gave me as a “grace” period in editting everything,” haruto nods, the nervous look on his face not disappearing once.

“that should be alright then, sorry for worrying you. a little over a month is fine,” satoru grins, feeling his chest bloom with warmth. “thank you so much for the interview, have a lovely day,”

and with that parting farewell, satoru rushed out of the building with his mask and sunglasses on and practically jumped into his car.

in the safety confines of his car, satoru rested his head against the wheel. his breathing was rapid and his cheeks were ablaze. was he really going to do this? he looked at his phone that had the directions sent to the nearest luxury jewelry shop, his eyes flitting across the screen to take all the information in.

“seriously, satoru?” he panted to himself, leaning back to his seat and looking up at his car roof, “it took some guy interviewing you to grow the balls to do this? really?”

he cursed himself for waiting so long, setting his car into reverse and speeding his way to the shop. he had his sunglasses, hat, and mask on as he exited his car, careful to try and not attract too much attention. if the media caught light of this before he could properly do it, he would have someone’s head on a spike - he didn’t care.

no one was ruining this for him. for [name], too. satoru wasn’t going to let the stupid papparazzi tarnish this moment, as they had done for so many other intimate ones before this.

satoru grit his teeth, pushing the shop door open and breathing a sigh of relief to find that it was empty. he looked at the displays they had out, acting calm when on the inside he was sweating bullets.

“looking for anything in particular?” the attendent asked him, not at all acknowleding his appearance which meant that his disguise had worked.

he cleared his throat, still looking down as he shakily replied, “wedding rings, wedding rings for men, please,”

thank god the attendent wasn’t an asshole or else satoru might’ve really just slammed his head into the wall in frustration. because the attendent just guided him in the direction of where the men’s wedding rings were. he didn’t speak more either, just hovering around in case satoru needed help.

“fuck,” he cursed under his breath, trying his hardest to focus and think about which one [name] would like the most. “fuck, what if i get him one he doesn’t like? what the fuck does that mean for us? oh my god,” he panicked.

and it was almost funny. a 6’6 lean guy practically clutching his chest to stop his heart from jumping out of his ribs and flopping around on the floor. he was seriously getting heart palpitations, satoru swore this is the most nervous he’s ever been in his life.

what the fuck would he say when he actually proposes?

“i love you, marry me?”

fuck no. gojo satoru wasn’t going to settle for a shit proposal like that. and he certainly wasn’t going to settle for a shitting ring either, but it was so stressful thinking of whether or not his boyriend (manifest: soon to be fiance) would like the one he picked out.

satoru never was the one with good fashion or style sense in the relationship.

he was freaking out.

some of the rings on display were too loud and extravagant that he knew [name] wouldn’t enjoy it, but then going for someting super, duper plain was out of the question.

“do you have a particular agenda in mind?”

“i have nothing in my mind right now,” satoru snapped at the worker, apologizing seconds later, “i’m sorry, i’m just really stressed right now.”

“it’s alright, many are when they come in. they see the displayed rings and get self-conscious of the one that they choose. well, just go with your gut feeling on what you and your partner would like. that’s the best advice i can give you. you know them best, after all,”

this fucking attendent was right, satoru knows his own boyfriend (manifest: soon to be fiance) better than anyone. he just has to see something to spark an inspiration in him.

and he thinks he’s found it when he looks at a particular timeless piece that is cushioned on a small red velvet pillow.

“what can you tell me about that one?” satoru asked, although he’s almost completely set on just buying it right now. it was perfect. the coupled ring that pairs with it was also so effortlessly something he would love to wear as well.

”that one is in the style of an eternity ring, with the VVS diamonds cut into an emerald shape, obviously. the metal is platnium with 11 carats,” the attendent skillfully answers, “goes for about 9,871,750 yen ($70,000 USD). we offer installment plans, though-”

“no, i’ll just take it, thanks, though,” satoru said, easily sliding his card over. “i also want the paired one too,”

“that one is-”

“you don’t have to tell me about it or the price, just box them pretty for me and i’ll be on my way,” satoru grinned, looking at the bills he had in his wallet and pulling out a couple 10,000 yen notes, (adding up to about 200,000 yen - $1,417 USD). as the attendent very meticulously packaged the rings safely, satoru slid over the cash to him.

“thanks for helping,” satoru said, tapping his card and approving the transaction before walking out of the store. the hefty cash tip left on the counter for the attendent to gleam at.

and if he thought that the picking the ring part was hard, now he had to come up with how he was actually going to propose.

he always said that he wanted it to be romantic, but with [name] already waiting at home there was no way he could set something up at their own house. and, honestly, he wanted this to not be so public in fear of it leaking to the headlines. so he would have to settle with making it romantic in his home.

but, the more he thought about it, the more carefree he felt in the atmosphere. as long as [name] was just there exisisting, that was all he could ask for. satoru carefully pocketed the velvet box into his pant leg, keeping the pair safe as he drove back home completely undetected by papparazzi.

when he got home, he had to stop himself from automatically calling out to his boyfriend (manifest: soon to be fiance). the “honey, i’m home,” died in the back of his throat, thankfully, so his arrival home was still a secret. he took off his shoes and walked up the stairs to their shared bedroom where [name] was most likely resting.

it wasn’t too late, but by now his bedtime routine was probably done and he was getting comfortable in bed.

and satoru’s assumptions were right because when he gently pushed the bedroom door open, he saw [name] cuddled into a pillow and watching the TV that was set up against the wall. upon closer inspection, satoru saw that the pillow he was cuddling was actually from his side of the bed. he was cuddling his pillow as he waited for him to come home.

that, unfortunately, made satoru breakdown in tears almost right away. his eyes stung with the salty fluid breaking through his composure. [name] was too far to notice, though, simply lifting his head and waving him over with a loving smile, “you’re home! wow, you were so quiet i barely heard you come in,”

and when satoru just silently stood at the doorway, his hand covering his mouth, that made [name] get up out of bed in worry.

“hey, are you okay? what happened?” then he saw the way satoru’s broad shoulders shook, rushing over and holding him in his arms in an instant, “was it the interviewer? are you okay, satoru? talk to me,” satoru only broke down more, making [name] comfortingly rub up and down his back with “shh”s slipping from his mouth every now and then.

“satoru, are you okay?” [name] worriedly asked, gently pulling him towards the bed and urging him to sit. once the tall man was sat down, he immediately wrapped his arms around him again, hugging him as tight as he could to give him some sort of comfort, “you’re scaring me, satoru, what happened?”

satoru took a couple of seconds to collect himself, holding onto [name] in his arms as a means of grounding himself. but if anything, it made it worse. he was reminded that [name] was really real and not some figment of his imagination. he wasn’t just some “dream” guy, he was real and he was his.

[name] was sitting in their bed with him and comforting him lovingly. he was real and satoru never felt as lucky as he did than right now in this moment.

“nothing happened,” satoru breathed out, pulling [name] back from his torso so that he could properly speak to him. “i’m okay, really,”

“satoru, you’re crying. it’s okay, you can tell me,” [name] said softly, pushing his wet bangs aside and looking into his teary blue eyes, “it’s okay,”

satoru bit his lip, admiring the features of his boyfriend for a couple more seconds. how gentle his touch was, the hand caressing his face only having the lightest featherlike feeling against his skin. how concerned his e/c eyes were, staring into him and understanding him like no one else ever has.

he is so beautiful, satoru thought to himself. he squeezed [name]’s hand that was resting in his lap, making the man look down at their joined fingers.

”satoru?”

“i just,” he took in a deep breath, “i love you so much, you know that right?”

he almost laughed at the suggestion, but [name] politely nodded instead, “of course i know that, you show me everyday. i love you, too,”

satoru nuzzled his cheek further into [name]’s touch, relishing in the way the man’s warmth fell onto his skin.

“i love you so much, i’d do anything for you,” satoru breathed out, looking past his wet white eyelashes and into [name]’s concern eyes, “i’d do anything, i mean it. i love you so, so, so much [name],”

“satoru, you’re really scaring me. what’s going on?”

“nothing bad, i promise. just, please, let me?” satoru begged, voice hoarse and tight as he pleaded with [name]. and with a patient nod coming from the man, he continued on, “you’ve made me so happy, happier than i’ve ever been, these past couple of years. you deal with me and my annoying bullshit everyday, you make sure i’m healthy and happy even when you’re so tired. you always take care of me, more than i give you credit for and i’m sorry that i’m so selfish sometimes. but, i promise i’ll do better. i’ll be better, for you. anything you want me to be, i’ll work so hard in becoming, for you. i want to make you as happy as you make me,” satoru gulps, feeling his throat closing up and his tears welling back up, “i love you so much, [name],”

taking in all of his words, [name]’s eyebrows furrowed in confliction. he still didn’t know if he should be concerned and worried or just let satoru go on. but then he felt his own eyes well up with tears when he felt how sincere satoru was being. how tight his large hand was holding his own, as if he were afraid that he’d slip away if his grip on him loosened even the slightest.

even when he tried lifting that hand up to wipe his tears away, satoru didn’t let him, keeping a steady grip on his hand. instead, his slender fingers came up to the side of his face and wiped the tears away with a calm smile on his face.

“you make me so happy, [name]. and i'm so happy to be here with you. you make everything worth it,” satoru said softly, “you love me so gently, so softly — unlike anyone else in my life has. you’re my entire world. i don’t know what i’d do without you here. i know i’m meant to stay by your side forever. i know my place in the world is wherever you are.”

there was a pause as now both of them were crying messes.

[name]’s eyes were shut as he tried to wipe his stream of tears away. so he didn’t see the way satoru dug through his pocket to take out the velvet box. and he didn’t see the way his hands shook as he propped the box to be open, didn’t see how nervous satoru looked in the moment of unveiling the ring.

what he did see though was the ring blaringly presenting itself to him and a grinning, crying satoru behind it. he heard the words leave his lips, “let’s stay together forever, okay? please, marry me, [name],”

and [name] didn't react.

not immediately. he was too shocked. his jaw had dropped and he looked between the ring and satoru, who was still happily crying. then, finally, he snapped out of it and enclosed his arms around his boyfriend’s (fiance’s?) neck and sobbed into his skin, “yes, yes, yes,” over and over.

satoru cried more, this time a smile on his face as he cried into the air. he felt the stream of wet tears go down his neck, but he didn’t pay them any mind. he only held [name] closer by his waist in a suffocating embrace.

he didn’t know if he believed in multiple universes theory, whatever that was, but he just wishes that if it were true: he’d find [name] in every single one. [name] was his one and only comfort in the hectic life that he lives, the one stable root that keeps him grounded.

the two seperated, smiling and laughing with each other as they messily kissed in celebration. when they pulled away, [name] and satoru watched as the latter shakily slipped the ring onto the former’s ring finger. and the h/c haired man had to cover his mouth once more at the sight. it was slightly loose, running on the bigger side, but it was perfect. he didn’t care. it could have been a paper ring and it would have been perfect.

“i love you satoru, so much, you don’t understand,”

“i love you more,” the other softly breathes out, staring at [name]’s ringed finger with pride, “more than you’d ever know.”

the two smiled and laughed at their confessions, joining in another hug as they were high off of their dopamine. wordlessly, satoru collapsed onto the bed with [name] laying on top of him. and as he took the other velvet box out, he tried slipping the ring onto his finger. but it didn’t even fit on his ring finger, so he had to work with it on his pinky.

“it’s kind of cute that way,” [name] says in amusement, comparing their hand size and laughing at the difference, “i like it,”

“if you like it that way, we can keep it this size, then,” satoru said simply, kissing the top of [name]’s head.

“wear it however you want to, satoru, it’s your ring,” [name] chides him, looking up to softly glare at him.

“the ring doesn’t mean anything by itself, you're the one that gives it meaning,” satoru says, squeezing [name]’s shoulders to bring him closer, “if you like it on the pinky, it stays on the pinky.”

rolling his eyes and deciding that nothing is going to get through his fiance’s head, [name] gave up on challenging satoru. instead, he cuddled closer into his side and breathed in his faint cologne and natural scent.

“i love you, satoru. my dear fiance,” he said into the fabric of his dress shirt, smiling against satoru’s ribs as he repeated the phrase in his head.

satoru didn’t bother biting back his smile as he tilted [name]’s head up to look up at him. he kissed him softly, gently moving their lips against each other in a passionate kiss. and when he pulled away, he made sure to keep eye contact as he said, “i love you more, [name], my dear fiance,”

[pear1escence]

Hello! I read your “being keegan’s girlfriend would entail…” and was wondering if you could do one for David/Hesh Walker? My manz doesn’t get enough love

If not that’s totally okay! Thanks for reading!

Being Keegan’s girlfriend would entail…

Being David Walker’s girlfriend would entail…

David ‘Hesh’ Walker x fem!Reader (that’s my last name too actually wink wink)

Explicit - 18+

⭒ He’s got a lot of room in his heart for tenderness.

⭒ The pain he feels from having lost his father hasn’t gone away, but it doesn’t plague him like it used to. (Listen, we’ve got Logan safe and sound in this universe our man doesn’t need any more problems)

⭒ What he needs from a lover is patience. The violence he’s experienced, it’s made him rougher around the edges. (Tougher? Rougher? Pls help) He just needs a lil time to soften up to you, I think Hesh would be the sweetest man f’you, such a loving and considerate boyfriend.

⭒ Hesh cherishes the intimate, sweet moments of a relationship. Holding you in his arms in the early hours of the morning, listening to your little puffs of breath, the calmness in your face as you sleep.

⭒ He’s so gentle with you. If it’s his thumb stroking over your cheek in soothing motions, or the palm of his hand running along the soft skin of your back. Treats you so well.

⭒ Chemtrails over the Country Clubs by Lana Del Rey reminds me of him. ‘Tulsa Jesus Freak’ and ‘Let Me Love You Like A Woman’ are Hesh songs to me. Very domestic and intimate.

⭒ I think of him as a socially confident person, a man who carries himself with confidence, falls into conversation easily. He’s charming he’s got rizz basically, you don’t have to search for long to find the reasons you fell for him.

⭒ I mean…pretty green eyes, tall, arms like his? I’d eat him up.

⭒ He’d date someone shy, I think. I think he’d find your shyness endearing, amusing even.

⭒ He loves taking you out for dinner, partly because he loves the sight of you all dressed up for him. He strikes me as someone with he a classic taste, likes romantic makeup styles, dresses that hug your curves and lacy lingerie.

⭒ His softness carries over into the bedroom, of course. I can’t imagine him being degrading or enjoying anything too rough, honestly. He can’t resist teasing you a bit though, a little meanness is all fun. He likes you submissive though, and he can be stern sometimes. Who’s complaining anyways let’s be honest with ourselves😓

⭒ He’s gonna be groping you mercilessly. Loves soft thighs, a nice pair of tiddies, anything soft. He’s big on foreplay, loves to finger you while praising you. Luvs to praise.

⭒ He WILL suck on your nipples. Probably groaning about how much he loves your body while doing so.

⭒ Wouldn’t actually choke you, but he’ll wrap a hand around your neck nd apply pressure gently, he likes seeing his hand ‘round your neck + you find it grounding, even comforting.

⭒ Makes you look him in the eyes while his hand is in your panties, “Does that feel good, baby? Yeah?” Nd you best believe he’s stopping if he doesn’t get an answer.

⭒ Very into eye contact while he’s fucking you. Again with the “You like that, pretty girl?” While gripping your jaw nd making you look at him, groaning out a “Good girl” once you answer him.

⭒ This just turned into sex headcannons bruh😞

⭒ Loves blowjobs. Also lowkey wants you to lick/suck on his balls but he’s a bit embarrassed to ask, you’ll figure out he enjoys it from his reactions anyways. Also pretty hairy, but not as much of a bear man as Keegan is.

⭒ He sends you pics of him in his combat uniform while he’s out on deployment. He’ll certainly appreciate pics of you in return, a mirror selfie of you in some nice lingerie would drive him crazy. Loves a nice photo of you in his boxers too.

⭒ I think he’d be very shy about reciprocating those kinds of images, but he’d send you over some mildly suggestive ones. He’d be very confused if you ask for a nut vid. (That sounds so fucking dumb, nut vid??)

Me?? Writing for someone other that Keegan??? No but this was fun, I’ve been wanting to write for Hesh for a while. Hope you enjoyed!! I think this is my first request ever tihi

[multifandomimagin3s]

Singer!Reader - 141, Los Vaqueros + Konig

Requested by Anon

Summary: Reader has to go undercover for a mission - and the guys find out that they have an amazing singing voice.

The song I had in mind whilst writing this was Doin' Time - Lana Del Rey ~

"Remember - eyes open, watch your six, Sergeant," Price's gruff voice spoke through your ear piece," The target is front and centre."

"Copy, Sir," You replied lowly.

Undercover missions were nothing you hadn't done before - in fact before your transfer to the 141 Taskforce they were your bread and butter. Usually your role was that of the other members of the squad - watch for the target, and then get them quickly and discretely as possible. This time? Well, Laswell had decided it would be best to put one of your other skills to use; before joining the army, you had a passion for music and singing, something that you didn't really get a chance to indulge in after climbing the ranks.

The mission itself was simple enough - you were to be onstage, singing to distract those in the room, namely the target, while the rest of the squad got into position - at which point, it was 'capture or kill' (as Ghost had put it).

You took a calming breath in through your noise and out through your mouth. Laswell would definitely owe you for this one...

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Had no idea that you could sing - when your melodic voice reaches his ears, it catches him off guard for a second, before he shakes his head slightly. Focus, he tells himself.

His eyes remain glued to the target, but he's internally fighting with himself not to stare at you.

Especially since you're dressed so nicely - he thinks you look good in anything you wear, even when in sweaty camo gear.

The target seems to ogle you just as adoringly - and it sets a fire in his belly.

When Price gives the signal to move in, he's taking the lead - and to his delight when the target resists, he gets to throw a punch at his stupid face.

After the mission, he voices his appreciation - well, as best as Ghost usually does:

"Not bad, Sergeant."

Definitely wants to hear you sing again, and might ask for an encore in private...

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

He's staring at you with this adorable look of pure awe - it takes a nudge and disgruntled look from Ghost for him to remember why he was there in the first place.

Johnny also had no idea that you could sing, which was made more obvious by his reaction.

He sings your praises as soon as the mission is over, eyes practically sparkling with barely contained excitement; he has to reel himself back a bit given he was around his superiors.

"Aw that wis absolutely class*, (Y/N/N) - got the voice of an angel ~" [wis = was] [class = amazing, brilliant, great ].

Congratulations - you're now going to be his partner for drunk karaoke.

((I can absolutely see Soap getting piss drunk and belting out 'Sweet Caroline' in a pub after a mission - it gives Ghost a migraine every time he does it))

Captain John Price

He knew you could sing, he's seen your file - but he didn't know you could sing like that.

When Laswell had suggested her plan to him to use you as a distraction, he was a bit sceptical - to be honest, he'd rather have just captured the target either before he got to the venue or when he was leaving. But he trusted her judgement.

And he's glad that he did.

He praises you like a typical Dad;

"You did good there, (Y/L/N)," As he pats your back.

When Soap drags you up on stage with him for drunk karaoke, he's slightly less annoyed - at least your sweet voice might help cancel out Soap's :))

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Sweet boy is trying to stay composed for the mission - but try as he might, he can't control his facial expressions.

He's not as overtly expressive as Soap, but his eyebrows do almost meet his hairline, mouth parted slightly in surprise.

See, I reckon Kyle probably knew because you told him one night about how you used to sing a lot before joining the army - he's easy to talk to and a good listener, so you didn't mind him knowing.

Still, he's still amazed that you were this good.

I can also see him joining in on you and Soap's drunk karaoke session after a few drinks - and he's not a bad singer either.

Alejandro Vargas

Oh, he's your number one fan.

Stays composed for the sake of the mission but he can't help but crack a smile.

You probably met him during the Hassan mission, so he hasn't known you for too long - and you're full of surprises.

After the mission, he asks you questions - how long have you been singing? did you have lessons? He's just curious.

Probably would ask if you knew any Spanish songs - and if not, he's happy to teach you :)

Rudy Parra

He's naturally quite a quiet guy so he doesn't say much - his face says more than words could.

Like Alejandro, he hasn't known you very long but being able to learn more about you - and your skills off the field - is interesting.

He's a man of few words so he'd probably just give you a compliment which is short and concise;

"Tu voz es hermosa." ["Your voice is beautiful."]

Definitely would love to hear you sing again, and silently hopes that he will in future.

Develops a little crush on you then and there.

Konig

He knew you could sing - he's heard you singing in the showers back on base.

Being the shy guy that he is, he didn't say anything to you - he wasn't trying to be creepy but he was walking by on route to his room, and he heard you. Yeah, that sounded a bit sus.

But to hear you on stage, your voice crystal clear and so beautiful, had the little crush he had on you tripling in size.

He probably wouldn't say anything to you after the mission - he's naturally quiet and shy, plus he likes you, and you both were around the team so his anxiety said no.

However, when you're back on base and he gets a moment alone with you, he gets his words out;

"Sie haben eine erstaunliche stimme, Sergeant." ["You have an amazing voice, Sergeant."

[gatitties]

Kid pirates and Whitebeard pirates with a singer!reader who specializes in soft vocalizations? (the best example I can think of is Lana Del Rey's Salvatore) maybe reader sings for the crew during celebrations or sings to them one on one if someone in the crew needs something to help sooth them !

─Kid Pirates & Whitebeard Pirates x singer!reader

─Summary: the discovery of your voice was a ray of tranquility for these crews

─Warnings: none

nah this is so cute 😔🫶🏻

─ It's quite unusual to have a moment of calm in this crew, with such an explosive and impulsive captain and a crew that would follow him to hell, fights and celebrations were almost daily.

─ Of course, you were part of that stupid brutality, however you do not indulge in the frenzy that most people carry here.

─ You like to sing, whether you were born with a good voice or you tried hard enough to get to the right pitch, it was a hobby that required calmness and silence, two things that were quite unusual in this crew.

─ And probably no one noticed if it weren't for Heat overhearing you once by chance, he's one of those who appreciates calm from time to time just like Wire.

─ So at the next party, a drunk Kid approached you, urging you to please them with some song, because someone had told him you had a pretty voice.

─ You didn't feel like it was the right time, when they were making bets, juggling things on fire and absurd challenges, even Killer told you that it wasn't a good time because no one would listen to you.

─ But Kid's insistence made you go up to the improvised stage, that is, two boxes and a couple of barrels, asking for silence didn't help much so you just started with your thing.

─ Ignoring all the background noise you focused on using your vocal cords correctly, as it was quite important to reach the soft tone you liked.

─ Everyone became quieter the louder you sang, until they were completely silent just to hear your voice.

─ For you it was a simple warm-up, but for them it was something they had never heard before.

─ You received a cheer from drunks that made you laugh at how silly they looked, as well as the stupid things they said to you about being related to mermaids or something.

─ From that moment on, they ask you to have your rehearsals, which were previously solitary, in the stern so that everyone can appreciate your singing, it doesn't bother you knowing that they really enjoy it and it provides a little peace within a crew of bloodthirsty people.

─ Killer will ask you to help him in the kitchen from time to time, he likes it when you hum while you prepare everything, it makes the time go by faster.

─ Kid will also ask for it when a project is not going the way he wants and he needs to de-stress, something sweet and soft always manages to calm him down, at least that and a glass of whiskey.

─ Heat and Wire are like your groupies since they appreciate calm the most, that and you were stuck with them on most of the ship's chores, and you inevitably end up humming to kill the boredom or at their request.

─ It's not that loud of a crew, yes, they have a lot of unnecessary parties sometimes, but overall it's pretty quiet, also because most of the crew have other ships besides the Moby Dick.

─ Marco was the one who discovered your love of singing, he listened to you while you were showering one night, and although he didn't pressure you to make it “public” since you hadn't had a chance to give a concert yet, he was like a proud mother ranting about how pretty it was your voice.

─The next few days you have Ace and Thatch begging to hear something because they were bored and Marco couldn't stop commenting on how well you sang, so it was your first private audition.

─ These two slept like babies after you reached the softer tones of the song, no one had ever blessed their ears like that.

─ Absolutely everyone knows that you have the most beautiful voice on the planet (according to Ace) after that, so the people you are closest to who were unaware of this side of you asked you for a demonstration.

─ Of course Whitebeard already knew this before anyone else, only that he wasn't going to force you to do shows for the crew if you didn't want to share your hobby, you only started to bring out this side of yourself when you gained more trust with everyone and felt comfortable.

─ Then you started singing more often with the crew acting as an audience, you always received applause even if you were just warming up your vocal cords.

─ Marco now takes the medications that are harmful to your throat very strictly, he doesn't want your voice to be ruined by being so pretty.

─ Ace and Thatch, your number one fans, probably the founders of your fan group, have a board in the kitchen with photos of you as if you were one of those famous singers that appear in the newspapers.

─ Sometimes you and Izo perform to entertain the crew, he dances and you sing.

─ You usually leave the ship to go work in some bars, since you like it, it doesn't hurt to make money from your passion if you can.

─ When someone spends a lot of time away traveling on missions, you are one of the first people they visit, all the fatigue seems to go away when they hear your voice.

─ Thatch will also ask you to help him clean up the mess in the kitchen because he knows you'll start humming while you two clean, making the task much more enjoyable.

─ You better start to believe you are a superstar because Ace will spread the word so much that he has a friend who sings like angels that your reward poster will be forgotten compared to your rumors.

─ This great family is proud of you and the achievements that you set for yourself, whether as a pirate or as a singer, whatever path you end up choosing, they will be there for you.

[blackdollette]

hello! this "request" is a bit different. I wanted to know your headcanons about favorite sex positions for each rory character and what sort of kinks you think they have?

yess!!

"my position couldn't stop."

stargirl interlude. - lana del rey & the weeknd

contents: mentions of blood, extremely sexual content (duh.), many different kinks

charlie walker

he would definitely love doggystyle

he'd pull out his camera and record as he pounded into you from behind

he would play it back whenever he was alone and jerk off to it

sex always looked so good from his view, so he just couldn't help it

i feel like he would like reverse cowgirl too

he doesn't really mind if he gets to see your face or not

if he was fucking you as ghostface, then he would definitely have some sort of degration kink

and he'd enjoy breath play

holding your throat as he abused your little hole, hearing as your breath hitched in your throat as he completely fucked your brain out

chris kenton

seeing your face is a must

so missionary, cowgirl, or mirror sex are his go-to positions

he just wants to make sure that he's making you feel good

he'd be focusing more on your face than anything else, trying to find out what works and what doesn't

but he also loves to see your body at the right angle, so doggystyle works for him too once he gets more comfortable

and he's the type to get everything nice and fancy in preparation

he goes all out with candles, roses, lingerie, you name it

everything is so loving and affectionate with him with a slight hint of praise kink

clyde

he lovessss missionary

having your legs resting on his shoulder as he pounded into you

and you looking into his eyes was enough to make him run wild

he'd take a hit of a joint and put it in your mouth right after

things are either very fast-paced or slow and sloppy. no inbetween

most times you can hear how wet you're getting

he literally doesn't know when to stop

so yeah, he has an overstimulation kink

he just keeps on going until both of you are completely unable to think of anything other than each other

dan cooper

my sweet little danny

he loves watching you take charge

so his favourite position is cowgirl

he gets a perfect view of your body as it moves on top of him

he turns into a whimpering mess so quickly

its pretty obvious that he has a mommy kink

but I feel like he'd also love using toys

blindfolds, rope, gag, and his favourite: vibrators

they took things to a whole new level

and you two went at it like rabbits all night long

euronymous

somedays, he liked to be in charge, putting you in missionary or doggystyle

but sometimes, he liked seeing as you rode him, struggling to take all his length

you'd be moving your hips as fast as you could, trying to keep your composure

but then he'd grab your hips and start moving them for you, showing you how its done

he loved edging, overstimulating, and making you sob

he absolutely loved making your makeup run as you begged to cum

and how your body trembled as it got too much for you

and he'd also call you things like "bitch, whore, slut" etc.

but you loved it because you knew that he said it with love

jack thurlow

missionary.

the idea of your legs on his shoulders, him pinning your arms above your head as he watched as you squirmed underneath him did wonderful things to his body

he would go so fast and so hard, loving the sound of your skin slapping together

and he would for sure have a blood kink

he'd carve his initials into your thigh as his head was in between your legs

he would trace over the blood with his thumb, smudging it just a little

and he'd mark you up everywhere

leaving a trail everywhere he went

like whenever he's in missionary position, his head is in your neck, sucking the skin harshly

aftercare would be sharing a cigarette in bed, probably listening to music if the vibe was right

kappa

this guy loves doggystyle omg

watching your ass recoil as he fucked you from behind fueled him tremendously

he loved the idea of destroying you

making you forget how to speak and marking you up completely.

he'd 100% have a bondage kink

making sure your wrists were tied together to stop you from getting in the way of his plans

and sometimes he would stuff a ball gag into your mouth, preventing you from whining as he overstimulated you

he would literally never get tired

this guy could go on for hours without taking a breath

and he'd be so vocal too

talking you through your orgasms and degrading you just a little

ollie sway

slow and sensual in missionary or cowgirl is the way to go

and you better believe that he'd play some old record in the background too

he'd light up candles and wait until the sun was setting at the perfect angle before finally getting down with you

he totally turns into a perfectionist when it comes to having sex

but he already thinks youre perfect, so he doesn't have to worry at all

he has a breeding kink. (hear me out yall)

just thought of him slowly filling you up with his seed until you were completely filled up made his body heat up

and he loved to watch it all drip out of you slowly, sometimes even sucking it out and kissing you after

but yeah, the main point is that he'd never want to hurt you at all

he often fucked you so gently that you could just fall asleep right there

and he'd always perform aftercare

ideally having a nice warm bath with you

and he'd praise you all night

telling you how much he loved you.

author's note: i love these types of requests omg. I'm working on previous ones still (dont worry, i havent forgotten abt yall)

[donatellawritings]

candy necklace - r. jerimovich

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x f!reader

content warning(s): language, smoking, age-gap, pining

song: candy necklace by lana del rey

The crisp Chicago winter air hit your tender scalp as you exited the taxi cab and ran your fingers through your freshly blown out hair. It probably wasn't the smartest decision for you to wear nothing but a mere hoodie that belonged to him, a skintight t-shirt that barely reached for belly button, and yoga pants that clung to your skin, but hey, it was your day off and the only outfit appropriate and comfortable enough to get your hair done in and pick up your paycheck in. Plus, you were well aware that he would be at the restaurant today, and thankfully The Bear wasn't busy enough, to where he'd have no choice but to drink in your appearance.

Approaching the tall and older man, you shove your hands into the pockets of the sweater, before stopping short in front of him. You watch with your bottom lip between your teeth as he wordlessly takes a pull from his cigarette, and loosens his tie to hang comfortably around his neck.

The two of you stand in silence as Richie taps the bottom of his cigarette, allowing the ashes to fall at his shoes, before raising his eyes to meet yours, "You here for your check?" He asks, his raspy voice like silk in your ears.

You nod, "and to see you," you take a step closer to Richie, catching how his shoulders and jaw begin to relax as the distance between your bodies begins to decrease.

Richie allows his shoulders to fall for a brief moment, before shaking his head and straightening his posture, "You're somethin' else, you know that?" His voice raises.

"Richie-" you begin.

"No, you don't get to fuckin' come here and stand there, when you aren't mine - do you not see how fucked up that is?" He rants, keeping his eyes locked solely on yours as you bring your gaze to your feet.

The brim of your eyes burn with welled tears as Richie's hand grabs ahold of your chin, a gentle yet firm touch. He opens his mouth to speak, but decides against it once you pull away from his touch, with a sniffle, "this isn't fair, you don't get to be upset with me," you hastily wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

Richie allows his hand to drop this his side as you point your finger at him, "Y-you let me slip away, that was you, not me," you suck in a breath, "I fucking wanted you, Richie, I didn't want to be with h-" you sigh.

Richie's baby blue eyes glaze over as he watches your emotions overtake every inch of you. He wants nothing more than to wrap you in his arms, kiss your hair, and tell you that everything will be okay, even if it won't be. And seeing you in his sweater, oh, that is what gets him. Even though your hateful tears are staining your cheeks, he can't help but feel envy of the way that the fabric of his sweater gets to envelope you, while he remains at a dangerously close, yet existent distance from you.

"Your check is in the office." Richie's voice cuts into you with no warning, his face stoic as you blink away any remanence of threatening tears away. You make your way towards the back door, Richie's hand grabbing onto your wrist, before you are able to open the door. Your eyes meet his as he pulls you into his chest and cradles the back of your head. His lips press a warm kiss to the skin of your forehead as you relax in the confines of his warm and slender arms. You inhale a shaky breath as you take in the smell of his cologne, mixed with the lingering air of his cigarette. Richie presses another kiss to your nose, and to your cheek, stopping right before your lips.

"I want you, I-I fuckin' need you, so fuckin' bad and that shit scares me," he rants as he moves his hand to cradle your face, "I hate seeing you with him, I hate that he gets to come home to you, gets every part of you, I wanted that since the moment I fuckin' met you."

"Richie-"

"No- no, just listen to me baby, I'm sorry, I'm fuckin' sorry." Richie pleads, leaning his forehead against yours as you raise your hands to cradle his face.

"Richie, listen to me." You cry, your lips ghosting against his, "I want you to kiss me, okay?"

And so he does. The moment you ask, Richie's lips are on yours and the two of you are feverishly grabbing at each other's limbs, as Richie pushes you against the brick wall, holding one of your hands above your head, interlocking your fingers. A moan leaves Richie's lips as you softly bite down into the skin of his bottom lip, before sucking on it.

"Come home with me," You mutter, breathlessly, licking over your lips, watching as Richie tightens his hold on your waist, "please, come with me and I'm all yours."

"Fuck." A moment passes, before Richie nods his head, moreso to himself than to you, "Yeah, yeah, anything you want, baby." He rasps, his forehead leaned against yours as his baby blue eyes drink in yours.

Richie's head lowers to your neck, his hand that once held onto your waist, now resting on your neck as his lips find the sweet spot right on your pulse, before softly suckling on the skin. Your head rolls back against the brick wall as Richie continues to work on the flesh of your neck. A soft moan leaves your lips as he softly licks the freshly bruised and broken skin. Richie continues this process for a few more minutes, until he is satisfied, pulling his lips away from your neck.

"I want you to leave him." Richie speaks, wiping the corners of his mouth while he adjusts the cuffs of his black button-down shirt, "you leave him and I'm all yours, I fuckin' promise you that."

A smile tugs on your lips as you slide your arms around the tall man's waist and push yourself to meet his lips, "Anything you want, Richie."

You pull away from Richie, your hands now reaching for the tie that messily hung around his neck, before grabbing ahold of the end of it and beckoning him to follow you inside of the building.

-

and that's all for now! I hope you all enjoyed my first writing, I promise that I have longer writings in the works, but I just wanted to post this, just to get a gist of what it's like to post <;3

feel free to send me any requests!

[hymn-to-mercury]

✨🪐Astro Notes and Observations #2🪐✨

These observations are all based off my own personal experience and are mostly generic - don't take it to heart if you disagree <3

✨Since I realised how much Mars influence translates into a persons physical appearance, I’ve been looking for evidence of this in other signs and planets, and I’ve namely found it in people with a lot of Moon influence in their chart! I’ve noticed they tend to have big, round features - especially in the face, think big, round eyes. Elsewhere it could mean a round body shape or big belly, even a decent bunda or pair of boobs tbh 😂 but that’s not a total given. There’s just something about them that’s quite… smoooooooooth, and soft looking.

(Zawe Ashton, Princess Diana, and Lana Del Rey are all Cancers!)

✨I find Taurus placements NOTORIOUS for giving unsolicited advice - what sucks most though is that 99% of the time it’s usually quite helpful so it’s hard to complain 😭

✨I know Aquarius’ are often seen as the activists of the zodiac, but in my experience a lot of them aren’t really all about that life. They might be quite forward thinkers, but they don’t usually care to argue - they’re not going to try and convince you about their opinion if they don’t think you’ll actually listen. They are probably willing to have a civil conversation, they’re GREAT conversationalists, but as soon as there’s any heat? They’re out. 

✨If you struggle to identify with your birth chart, try calculate it in Whole Signs according to traditional rulership, as opposed to Placidus with modern rulership! I switched recently, and it’s been a total game changer for me. I resonate with my house placements so much more now. 

✨Cancer Moon and Mars get the biggest ick from rudeness; the quickest way to get on these guys bad side is by being ill mannered. They are ALLL about good manners.

✨Scorpio and Leo in a chart together makes for the least mysterious scorpios ever LMAO just all the angst and non of the mystery - plus they reallyyyyy like to bask in their own misery, and trust, you will hear about it. 

✨Taurus stellium are always putting other people’s needs before their own, truly the mother of the friend group. 

✨Cancer and 4th house placements as the homebody nurturing mother archetype is suchhhh a lazy and reductive take - just because someones got cancer placements doesn’t automatically mean they want to be a parent and launch babies out their vagine till it doesn’t work anymore. Why does no one ever point out the way that Cancers absolutely do NOT play about their parents or their siblings? Or how much Cancers take pride in their home/living space? How inseparable they are with their pets? Or that they’re just as much foodies as Taurus! Especially with sweets, anything from Haribos to pastries. Cancers are more than just breeders.