#laying down in the floor emoji when

[spelldealer]

i need this -> 🧍🏻‍♀️ emoji but sideways

[madamechrissy]

Jealousy, Jealousy

This was inspired by the Caleb art in the banner by @baobei-bu please love on ALL their art!! Their JJK/LADS art is PEAK

Pairings- Yandere! Caleb x F!reader

Warnings- PWP pretty much, a smut oneshot- HEAVY yandere Caleb, mating press, cum play, oral (f recieiving) tummy bulges, cervix hitting, panty stealing, fingering, overstim, he calls you pip squeak LMAO, JEALOUS obsessed Caleb

My first time for Caleb hehe, rbs/comments appreciated if you enjoyy

"Who is that, Pip squeak?" Caleb murmurs that question with a little smile, as you tense just a bit, feeling your cheeks heating up under his scrutiny, sipping on the straw of your milkshake, letting the sweetness hit your tongue. The two of you have been gaming the day away, taking just a little break in the kitchen now

"It's a... friend." That's what Xavier was really, your sweet friend, who is currently sending you heart emojis.

"Oh, a friend huh? Why so secretive then?" He teases, tapping your nose and just being far... far too close. You shouldn't think so many things about him like this, should you? But you can't help but like his cologne a little too much, like just how his brown locks were falling over his forehead just so, how you can see so much of his muscles flexing in what he wore.

"Just a friend." Your little smile drives him insane, he outwardly laughs, but he can't stop thinking of who's been with you while he's been away, has anyone touched you? When you're meant to be his.

"Let me see then." He yanks your phone high, dark violet eyes flashing for a moment, turning as you sputter and he scrolls through your last messages. "And who is Sylus... Rafael and... Dr. Zayne, I know him, and-"

"Give me my phone back, jerk!" You jump for it, but Caleb is stupid tall, holding it up and feigning a smile he really doesn't feel like giving right now, thoughts racing.

Were you with somebody?

That would never do.

Perhaps he's been gone too long, and you've found someone, but that wouldn't last long when you'd be his. Caleb hands you it finally, laughing a bit as he pats your head. "Relax, Pip Squeak, I was just messing with ya. So cute when you're angry."

"Oh, whatever. Back to the game?" He nods, watching as your bouncy ass sways in whatever excuse for a shorts those were, furious if anyone has ever gotten to see you like this.

You're sitting up on the couch now, legs spread so he sees just a hint of your perfect pussy that lace was hugging, his throat goes dry when you hand him the controller. He smiles with ease, sitting on the floor, hoisting your thighs around his shoulders then, and you pause, faltering just a bit, breath caught in your throat. It should be casual. You two have gamed close forever, but he's so close to your heat, your thighs brushing against his hot skin. Just a white tank top and your shorts separating you both.

"You blushed really hard when I mentioned Sylus huh?" He asks now, as he moves the controllers, and you gulp just a bit, fidgeting some.

"No... imagining things."

"You think he's hot."

You roll your eyes at him, shifting forward as you tilt the controller, slashing your sword and concentrating, the tips of your toes touching his lap. Just that is enough to make Caleb ache and throb, hard cock pulsing, he bites back a moan, you seem too entrapped in the game to notice what your foot is brushing on.

"He's hot, sure. Why, do you... find anyone hot?" Caleb glares down at the controller now.

"Just one girl." You bite your lip, concentrated fully, as he rests a head on your thigh. Hot breath against it making your leg twitch, cunt already soaking. You can't feel this way, you two are just too close... right? How can you be jealous?

"Oh?" Your weak voice just makes Caleb's cock leak precum, he can feel how hot you are behind his neck, he turns his head then, to catch you looking down at him.

"Do you care if I like someone Pip Squeak?"

"N-no..."

"Hmm... hah! Got you!" Caleb's killed your character, making you huff. Laying back some on the couch, you gasp when he turns around, face at level with your cunt, where he sees your damp spot right on your shorts. "Oh no, honey... did you spill something?"

"Huh?" You feel your body react, nipples pressing against your thin top at his proximity, vivid thoughts of far, far too many things working through your heated mind.

"Right here..." he brushes his thumb against the damp sticky arousal, eliciting a cry that makes him goddamn feral. "Can't answer me honey?"

"Caleb I'm... so sorry I..."

"This from me. Or from one of them?" His casual question is laced with something dark, pressing on the spot again, wondering just how many men he'd have to take out, so his sweet girl is all his. "Should I get these off you? Since you're making them so messy?"

"I.... y-you-" Caleb has slipped your shorts off your thighs, your tummy clenches when he clicks his tongue. Now he kisses your inner thigh, fingers running along your swollen lips, breath ghosting too close to your cunt.

"These are ruined too, tsk. Something wrong, pip squeak?" You shake your head, watching as Caleb peels those panties off you, and he has to tuck them in his pocket, thankful your eyes are shut, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks. He needs a fresh pair anyway, you're too meticulous about your laundry and he doesn't get many.

The amount of times he's cum inhaling your panties, drunk off them is insane, even before he left you, when he'd visit on breaks he'd take them, licking any of you up. Sometimes he would jerk off inside them, imagining putting them on you. Making you wear them full of his load as punishment for making him so insane. But nothing prepared him for seeing your glistening cunt, clear trails breaking off, you're so wet you were stuck to those lacy panties clearly.

"Caleb-ah!" He laps you up now, just a stripe up your slit, making your hands entangle in sof thrown hair, as those deep violet eyes look up at you. Dilated, insane, a smirk on his lips.

"Tell me none of them tasted you. Had you."

"What do you mean-"

"Tell me no one touched what's mine."

"You've been gone a long time... you think I just what, wait here, touch myself?" You're shaking as you speak.

"Do you?" You hesitate. "Answer me. Maybe I'll let you cum."

"Let me?" He presses a kiss on your clit now parting your folds and groaning as arousal pools out of your little hole. "Mnh. Fuck... what are we..."

"Am I competing? I'm very competitive you know, pip squeak. I will have to make you forget anything but me then." That's when he spreads your pretty pussy, moaning, he's seen you of course before here and there, glimpses of you naked, but now your perfect cunt is right in his face. He's burying his face against you, nose hitting that clit as his tongue swipes in.

"Oh my god." You shouldn't be like this, you shouldn't be spreading your thighs wider, letting him fuck his tongue in and out of your slick, gummy walls, the noises of his soft whines and slurps echoing in your apartment. His taste buds explore every each that long tongue can reach, you're losing it every moment, those eyes so dark with lust they look black.

He'll make you forget anything.

"That's it, you wanna cum f'me, huh? Pretty girl, all mine." You're struggling to compute his words, to even function, eyes rolling back when he flicks the tip of his tongue on that clit, smile not hitting his insane yes. "Are you?"

"This is crazy, what are we doing... you... I... ngh!" Two fingers slip right inside your hole now, which flutters around the thick, long digits, making your whines even louder as he leans up, his other hand gripping you by your throat, lips so close.

How have you not kissed but he's devoured your pussy?

"You belong to me, only me, can you not see? All this time..." He's desperately scissoring fingers in and out, lashes low over his eyes as he breathes against your bitten lips. "Oh listen, she can talk for you I guess, so slutty for me. Just me, huh?"

You're just arching your hips, a sweet cry from your lips, ones he can imagine wrapped around his cock, while he squeezes your delicate neck harder, hand overtaking your throat. You can merely whimper in response, nodding just a bit, as you're closer and closer, only for him to yank his fingers out, making you whine, aching to be filled by them again.

"Caleb, please." You're crying now, tears running down your cheeks, making you look so fucking pretty to him, igniting something that snaps as he watches them fall glistening down your face.

"Please what, ya need something?" He's squeezing harder, fingers brushing around your soaking entrance, just barely pressing the tip of his finger inside, while you're pressed back against the couch, breasts heaving. "Tell me what you need, don't you know I'll take care of you?"

"In me. Please- ah!" You're getting fuzzy when he slips those long fingers back in your cunt, exhaling as he watches you, curling them just so with filthy squelching noises echoing. "Mnh!"

"This all f'me, huh? All me?" His demanding question barely resonates when you're cumming all over his fingers now, pulsing and gushing, while your own hand grips his thin white tank, pulling him closer. Your eyes roll back, he watches you avidly, every fucking expression while he feels you pulsing on his digits. "You didn't answer me, pretty, that won't do."

He pouts when he pulls his fingers out again, releasing your throat right before you nearly faint, cunt still pulsing. You try to gather yourself, when he's slipping those fingers in his mouth, moaning while he sucks all your arousal off them. He's ripped your top off, moaning as he sees your tits gently bounce out, his own dog tags dangling right between the two of them.

"Look who's right by your heart, hmm?" He presses the cool metal to your lips now, prompting you to kiss them, as he smiles so sweetly, like he hadn't just fucked your head up and tripped you. "Do you wear this every day?"

"Yes."

"Every night?"

"Yes." Your answer ends him, when he picks you up like you're nothing, dragging you right to the plush, soft rug beneath you both, hovering over you, his new tags dangling, as your fingers slip up over his strong chest, his eyes glinting with something you can't quite describe, the situation overwhelming your senses.

"I need to take better care of you, if you feel you need all these 'friends' then I'm not doing my job. I should be more than enough for you." He's leaned up, pulling up his shirt just a bit, revealing rippling abs that you've looked at far too often. "Is that it, I didn't take care of you good enough?"

"No, Caleb you always take care of me. I just... we..." Your thoughts trail off when he's slipped down his sweats, and you see his cock, so long and thick you're unsure you could take it, already oozing precum out of his reddened tip.

"Cat got your tongue, pip squeak? Keep talking, I'm listening, I always listen don't I?" He's leaned over you with one strong arm, yanking your thighs apart further, when you feel his length against your inner thigh, hot and heavy, precum sticking to you, as he cups your face so gently. "I'll listen to every moan, every whisper, so I learn everything your pretty, perfect body likes."

"Oh my god." He's brushing his tip against your engorged clit now, smiling down at you, at how pretty you are on this rug beneath him, your lashes fluttering.

"You work too hard, you need to be massaged everywhere. How could I not see this?" He's shoved his cock so deep inside you then you scream out, and he moans, feeling the stretch, of so many fucking inches. "Look how greedy, she's trying to take him all. Ahh, did you miss me this much?"

You're unable to respond to anything when he's shoved his cock so deep you're stuffed full, whimpering out as your walls struggle to stretch for him, and he's just a breath over you, lips drinking up yours then, finally kissing you after so long, before he is pulling back and shoving so deep he hits your cervix. You're sobbing it feels so fucking good, all while he can't rip his eyes off your face, the dark violet depths swirling.

"Waited so long for this, god don't you know?" He's mumbling now, lost in you, pulling back and smirking as he watches it, his lengthy cock getting sucked inside your too small hole, and the bulge in your tummy. "Look, I hit so fucking deep, don't I?" He grips your chin, shoving your head down so you see it, blushing furious.

"I... that's... s-so big I..." He's moaning as he watches it, his cock making that bulge as he goes achingly slow.

"Look at me fill you, fuck I should keep filling you too, until you can't even think. I need your brain shut off, and focused on me, yeah?" You're already fucked out and stupid, you can only stare at the bulge and blush, when he thrusts his hips with a snap, having you drooling all over his cock. "Can't think of other men now, can you?"

You can't think of a fucking thing, including what's happening, as Caleb begins fucking you harder, faster, delicately kissing your lips like he's making love, as his heavy balls slap your ass with every single filthy fucking thrust. He's whispering your name, until he's got you firm in a mating press, spitting down right on your clit and moaning at the sight.

Folded in half, god you feel so small under him, while his babbling hits your incoherent brain, the lewd slapping of his skin and how wet you are filling the living room. "Only me, I need it to only be me, me inside you, me everywhere."

"Caleb- you... f-fuck!" He's cupping your face as he folds you in that mating press, grinning feral, something unleashed that's damn near scary, but you just want more, nails pressing crescent moons against his biceps.

"Only me. Only me. Mine. Mine. Mine." He's huffing those words as you cum all around his cock, pausing him briefly, feeling your aftershocks grip him, your cunt so messy she's dripping down his balls, down to the rug, making the sounds even louder, the squishing and clicking. "I know, honey, I know, you want me to cum inside, huh?"

"Please. Please." He's smiling, you're being so good for him, and who is he to ever deny his pretty girl anything.

"I'll give you anythign you ask for, don't worry. I'll fill you so good, so, so good, yeah- ha fuck you- ah..." He's stuttering now, faster and harder, his eyes flashing then. "Only me, say it."

"Only y-you... ah- ngh!" You're screaming when he's fucking you so hard it hurts, leaned up to press the backs of your thighs.

"That's it, gonna forget them all, aren't you? Anyone."

"F-forget." Your weak response lets him lose his mind, big hands bruising, his dog tags swinging against your face when he pounds your cunt so hard, cumming so much, with his head thrown back, groaning so loud until it turns into a weak cry, as his hot gooey load coats your pussy everywhere.

"That's it, fuckin perfect pussy, God my good girl, aren't you? Taking me so well." He's murmuring, easing as you're cumming just from him coating your walls, he lets your thighs fall, moaning and kissing you, desperate and hungry. "You alright, pip squeak? Was it too much?"

"It was a lot I..." He's laughing now, softly, pulling back and out, watching the mess of creamy cum pouring down all over, groaning at the sight, you flush as you look down, seeing it all.

"You could have told me you needed more, don't you know how long I've waited for this? I wanted to be your first though, honey, tsk..." He's fingering the cum, making you jerk, so sensitive now, his lips quirking up. "Know how many times I've stroked it? Picturing just this, filling you up?"

"Y-you did?" He's shoving that cum deep, you grip his wrist, gasping now. "Caleb!"

"You're wasting it, that just won't do, I need you to be a good girl." His husky whisper along with those rough fingers makes you cry out.

"Sensitive!"

"You can take more, can't you?" He's shoving cum back in your eager whole, moaning at the sight, his cock already standing back at attention. "I think I know what I need to do, so you never call any of these 'friends' again."

"What?" Your eyes roll back when he's curling his fingers again, hovering over you and grinning, his toned body glistening with a sheen of sweat.

"I'll keep filling you, until you're dripping me constantly." Caleb's got you in your bed next, lapping his own cum right out of your cunt, taste buds dragging in every flavor of the two of you, having you cum over and over, until you're stupid. "Look, so fucked out, aww. You're drooling pip squeak, lemme get that."

He's swiping at your chin, before he's sucking your clit in his mouth again, and you're losing sense of everything, he's fucking you again, bent over, then again, on your stomach, so many loads inside you you're bloated and full, too full. You pass out on him soon, he sighs as he looks at you, so pretty as always in your sleep.

"Ah, pip squeak, we'll have to work on that stamina." He's cleaned you all up, putting your favorite pajamas on you, while you're lightly snoring, clearly he'd been a little too much.

Caleb had waited for years and years after all, for just this moment.

"Sweet dreams, my love. Future wife." He's laughing softly, you don't know just all his plans yet. He goes towards the kitchen to down some water, still naked in your apartment, cock gently swaying when he grabs his sweats, your panties still tucked in his pocket. He slips them on, frowning as he sees your phone light up, texts from Zayne and Sylus.

That just won't do.

He unlocks your phone with ease, it's his birthday of course, you love him even if you don't know how much yet. No worries. Caleb deletes every contact and message, keeping only him, because that's all you'll need now! You won't even be in this apartment soon, he can already picture you at his place, constantly having his babies.

He smiles as he holds you against him that night, but even after fucking you so deep, so much, just seeing you sleeping makes him hard again, and he has to stroke his aching cock just looking at you, waiting for you to wake up.

lmk if you want more Caleb and his freaky ass lol <3

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[2soft2sensitive]

I have two wolves inside me, one is a high femme and the other is a trans man, and every night they fucking kill each other

[27spoons]

yapping yapping to you dudeeee. have you seen how nat treated mari's brat ass (and some of shauna's, too)? i was like: panties? where? *inserts that meme of an emoji with a dangling lingerie* like, the way her care and natural protective instincts kick in, even though others might give two fucks about her 😭😭 my baby, come here, i'll take care of youuuuu imagining a brat!reader making nat's days a living hell, but she can't possibly lash out, so she puts reader into a time-out (house arrest tf), or even brings them their portion of the food into their hut, ending up in nat "teaching reader" how to behave 😇 yuk, an innocent lesson

what if i said i wanted to be put in my place. what then. what if i said i need to piss nat off until she snaps at me, realises that i liked it, and then does it again?

nsfw blurb / smut / gn!afab!reader / porn w some plot / self-indulgent / not proofread we die like the cabin at the end of s2/ wc: 1260

natalie stands outside your shelter, the fresh scent of damp earth and cool spring air brushing past. the spring out here is deceptive—warmer than the cruel winter was but still bitter in the mornings and evenings. the soft hum of insects punctuate the silence that settles in the dim light of the evening.

inside, you restlessly lay on your makeshift bedroll, leg bouncing as you trace the light strips that filter through the gaps in your structure with your eyes. when she finally steps in—carrying a wooden bowl of stew—you glance up with a cocky grin that you already know nat will not like.

"well, well." you drawl, sitting up. "The Queen herself. To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine evening?"

nat doesn't bite. she places the bowl on the tree stump in front of you unceremoniously. "dinner," she says simply, straightening and crossing her arms.

"wow, room service?" you let out a low whistle, leaning back and lacing your fingers behind your head. "i gotta say, i'm kinda liking this whole 'house arrest' thing, you know? the perks are nice." a beat, "actually, is it too much to ask, or could i get some dessert?"

her jaw clenches, but she manages to keep her voice in check. "you seriously think this is funny?"

"i mean... yeah." you shrug. "let's be real, nat. you're supposed to be running this place or whatever, but here you are, babysitting me." you groan and sit back up, "doesn't really scream..." a beat as you feign thought, "fearsome leader, you know?"

nat's eyes narrow, and you swear you can feel the frustration radiating off of her. the distant sounds of the wilderness around you seems to grow at the sudden tension, filling the space between you two. "you really wanna test how far i'll go?"

your grin falters slightly, but you can't deny the subtle rush that builds inside of you at the way her voice lowers. "what are you gonna do? give me another stern talking-to?"

she steps closer, her worn combat boots crunching against the forest floor. she leans down just enough to meet your gaze, her voice shifting to that tone she knows gets you weak. “no. talking doesn’t seem to work with you.”

before you can fire back a retort, she's grabbing your jaw with her right hand and squeezing. "you aren't leaving this hut until i say so, and honestly?" her voice lowers further, "i don't think you deserve to leave after all this shit you've pulled, do you?"

you stare up at her, unsure if you're supposed to be feeling afraid, aroused, or both."uh…" you blink a few times, "wow, nat. you really got the whole… 'scary leader' thing down. i'm shaking in my boots."

a scoff leaves her lips, but she doesn't visibly react further to your sarcasm. "you can joke all you want, yeah? but we both know you'll listen to what i say. because if you don't…" her eyes flash down to your lips for a moment, "well, they don't last very long."

your stomach twists, but not because you're scared. well, maybe a little. but mostly? well, mostly you're just aroused.

and nat knows, if the way she smirks is any indication. "yeah. you know that, don't you?" her voice carries a teasing lilt that does unpleasant (but not unwelcome) things to your insides. "all you really want is to be put in your place." she grips your jaw a little tighter, "open your mouth more."

you do. your lips part on command, and you're rewarded with nat spitting into your mouth slowly. "close. don't swallow." you do as she asks, of course. there's no way she doesn't know you're ruining your underwear right about now. 

you swear you haven't taken a breath in a million years as she looks down at you, eyes sharp and calculating. "good. swallow." you comply, maintaining eye contact, then open your mouth to show her that you listen.

nat grins. "look at you. you can listen." 

she gives you a firm shove back onto your bedroll and follows you down. "but i think i still need to prove my point." 

one of her hands slides underneath the waistband to your pants without hesitation, and it takes everything in her to not make a sound of satisfaction at how wet you are already. "jesus. already?" she manages, the words almost coming out in a whine and breaking this facade of control. "you're fucking soaked."

"can't help it." you reply immediately, already feeling the fight in you leave the second she gets her hands on you, "it's you. you do this to me." you're already clenching around nothing, staring up at nat's form over your body with an expression of pure want. "please."

the girl almost scoffs at how quick you get to begging, considering it usually takes far longer to break you down. "damn. that was fast. you a little desperate?"

"fuck you—" you try and start, but your protests are quickly cut off with a sudden push of her forefinger into your cunt. "oh—"

"that's what i thought." she grins, starting to move her finger without giving you time to get used to the intrusion. "all talk and no game, yeah? not so big once someone actually starts taking charge."

your fingers dig into the soil around your bedroll, knowing better than to grab onto her right now. "that's not fair—"

another finger. "nothing is fucking fair." she bites, leaning down closer to your face, "we're trapped in the middle of goddamn nowhere, and you're talking to me about fair?" a harsh scoff leaves her lips as she begins pumping her fingers faster, "life isn't fucking fair."

you'd make a smart reply to that if you could, but it's sort of hard to do when her fingers are ruthlessly fucking in and out of you, your wetness soaking into the fabric of your underwear. "already so worked up." she tsks, "bet i could give you a third finger right now and you'd—" 

she does.

three fingers deep, fingers curling in and out of your pussy with a passion that only nat can possess, you groan and throw your head back. 

nat slaps her free hand over your mouth with a hiss, "jesus! do you want them to hear what's going on in here?" her fingers never cease in their actions as her gaze flicks to the entrance for a moment, watching to make sure no one is about to walk in on you two. "shit, i would never hear the end of this…" she murmurs before returning her gaze to you, hardening it slightly. "should have known you wouldn't be able to keep quiet." 

she grinds her palm against your clit with every crook of her fingers, and you can barely keep your eyes open at the harsh movements she fucks you with—pain and pleasure blurring together somewhere along the way. 

her breath ghosts over your ear as she leans down, and you can feel her smirk. "you're gonna come for me, and when you do, it's gonna happen again." you whine, and she chuckles lowly in response. "and again. until i fucking decide that you've finally understood how to listen to fucking orders."you stare up at her with wide eyes when she pulls her face back slightly, and nat's grin only widens further. "and we both know you have a hard time following orders." her fingers find that one spot, and you swear you see stars—"so i think it's gonna be a long night."

[cosmicalily]

'everything is romantic' with stray kids, ot8 headcanons by @cosmicalily

author's note: bad tattoos on leather tanned skin, jesus christ on a plastic sign, fall in love again and again...this is one of my favourite songs on the album (especially the version with caroline polachek!). i kind of love the idea that romance is in everything, from everyday actions to random objects, i think it's such a beautiful philosophy! enjoy this little list of everything that's romantic in my eyes...

everything is romantic...with chris

addressing you in australian slang nicknames. night drives to the beach with the windows down. buying your favourite albums on vinyl. sending screenshots of song lyrics. matching tattoos. staying up late talking. massaging your shoulders while you study. laying on his chest on your phone in the evenings.

everything is romantic...with minho

cat fur on your favourite black sweater. slow blinks from across the room. homemade dinners and red wine. walks through the forest in the early morning. making the bed around you while you sleep in. closing the blinds if you forget to before falling asleep. hundreds of weirdly specific yet endearing nicknames.

everything is romantic...with changbin

you as the cover of every instagram post. matching fluffy hello kitty pajama pants. referring to you as 'his wife' from day one of dating. buying you every cute trinket or keychain he lays his eyes on. your sanrio stickers on his laptop. his giggles anytime and every time you say something slightly amusing.

everything is romantic...with hyunjin

chamomile tea before going to bed. shared pinterest boards for your future home. sketches pinned up around the house. lipstick stains on the collars of his shirts. a photobooth strip in his phonecase. a red digicam dedicated to photos of you. sending voice notes rather than text messages.

everything is romantic...with jisung

studio ghibli soundtracks while you clean the house. always keeping your favourite ramen in the kitchen. letting you do his makeup. silly inside jokes. writing you sticky notes when he doesn't know how to verbalise his feelings. writing and composing little love songs for you whenever he gets inspiration.

everything is romantic...with felix

reposting every love-related tiktok on his fyp. matching jellycat keychains. freshly baked goods. braiding his hair in the evenings. watching 2000s chick flicks. strange yet wholesome meme references. matching beaded bracelets. at least nine different emojis to represent you for your contact on his phone.

everything is romantic...with seungmin

freshly washed bed linen every weekend. homemade coffee in the morning. annotating each other's books. his hands in your hair while you study. putting your phone on charge when you fall asleep. filling up your drink bottle. sitting beside you and watching you do your makeup. shoulder kisses. long hugs in the hallway.

everything is romantic...with jeongin

facemasks and self-care nights. picking out your outfits. letting you borrow his jewellery. bringing you an iced coffee on your break at work. matching shoes. sharing a scarf in winter. imitating each other in public and laughing at each other. poking his dimples. playing twister on the living room floor.

[moonstruckme]

I have no way of expressing this ask more than this. I crave for someone being so whipped and in love with me that they would do anything (walk him like a dog sis) and I know you've already written some things like that but I beg of you to write more. Sorry I'm on my period rn and I want some Marauders fluff, maybe the fic be about period comfort? Idk, sorry if that makes no sense, have a good week 😭🙏 Dealers choice on Poly, James, sirius, or Remus (I don't currently have emojis but its the cake anon)

I hope this was along the lines of what you wanted? Ngl lovely since the request seemed basically just for fluff and comfort I treated it like a free space on a bingo card so thank you!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 997 words

The sound of your door opening makes your back tense enough that you nearly gasp in pain. 

“Hello?”

“Just me,” your boyfriend says, voice coming towards your bedroom. 

“Oh.” Relief and affection are unmissable in your tone though you try to seem less eager. “What are you doing here?”

James is frowny as he comes in. A sad little pucker to his lips as he takes in the sight of you stomach-down on the bed, taut and motionless with your head turned to the side to see him. You find your own self-pity intensifying under his concerned gaze. 

“You said you were hurt,” he says. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

James gives you a fond look, dropping his duffel bag on the floor and taking his phone from his pocket. “Woke up with my back all funny,” he reads aloud from your texts. “Can’t move, won’t make it to the gym sorry.” He tsks, squatting beside your face. You watch the flex of his quads with a reverence you’ve only recently stopped being embarrassed of. “You spelled can’t without the apostrophe. That was the really scary part.” You wince, and James cracks a smile, kissing you. “How badly does it hurt?” 

“It’s not that it hurts very much,” you say, pushing out your bottom lip a little in the hopes he kisses you again. “It’s just surprising.” 

James takes the bait, pressing his lips gently to yours before pulling away again. “Surprising?” he repeats. 

“Yeah. Like, you know when you get shocked by a door handle or something and your whole body seizes up? It’s like that, but only when I move.” 

“That doesn’t sound very nice either,” he murmurs, eyes tracing the curve of your back where it disappears under your bedcovers. You take the opportunity to trace the line of his jaw with yours. “Can I have a look?” 

“A look at what?” you ask. “It’s in my back, Jamie, it’s not really something you can see.” 

“I know, just…” He starts crawling onto your bed, mindful of not making the mattress shift underneath you. “Can I?” 

You bite the inside of your lip. Your wariness is evident in your tone. “Sure.” 

James brushes a hand over your hip in thanks. He moves slow, settling with his knees straddling your legs and untucking the sheets from around you carefully. You trust him, but it’s hard not to go rigid as he pulls your sleep shirt up above your waist, feeling somehow more exposed for your incapacity of movement. 

He hums. “It doesn’t look inflamed.” 

“Told you.” 

“You told me,” James agrees, sounding amused. “I just thought if it was a muscle thing, it’d be swollen or something. Where does it feel like it’s coming from?” 

He lays his hand, ever so gently, on your lower back, and you gasp. 

He takes it away instantly. “Shit, sorry. I’m sorry, angel, that hurt?” 

“It’s fine.” You force yourself to breathe past the pain. “It just surprised me.” 

“It can surprise you and hurt at the same time,” James says, remorseful. “I’m sorry. If I…if I warn you that I’m going to touch you, do you think that’ll be better?” 

Just the prospect makes you feel tense. “Maybe,” you hedge. 

“Okay. I’m gonna rest my hand here, but I’m not gonna push. Relax, sweetheart.” 

He’s right. This time, his touch is enough to make the muscles of your back tighten but not scream at you. James waits a beat to make sure you’re okay before drawing his hand up and down your spine. 

It hurts less and less as he goes. James’ palm emanates a warmth that’s more soothing than the cocoon of your bedcovers from before. You’re safe so long as he’s looking after you. 

“It’s here?” he asks, palm settling between your hips. “That’s where it hurts the most?”

“I think so,” you say. “It’s hard to tell.” 

“That’s where you seem the most strung up,” he murmurs, rubbing from side to side. His pressure increases very slightly as he feels for the cause of your hurt. “Do you have a chiropractor you like?” 

“No.” Your voice turns wary. “I’ve never needed one.” 

“I know one who I think is pretty good,” James says conversationally. 

“I don’t want to go to a chiropractor. I can’t even sit up.” 

“That’s something he might be able to help with, lovely.” James’ palm soothes over your bare skin. “But okay. We can talk more about that later, let’s just focus on making you feel better for now. I think half the pain is from how nervous you are. It might get better if you’re able to relax.” 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to not be nervous when it keeps hurting,” you mumble. 

“We’ll loosen you up,” James says certainly. “We’ve got all day.” 

You frown, turning your head to look at him before lightning bolts shoot down your spine. James makes a soft, chiding sound, rubbing your taut muscles. 

“You’re planning to stay here all day?” you ask. 

“Well, I hope it doesn’t actually take all day to get you relaxed enough to sit up,” he says, “but yeah.” 

“Don’t you have other things to do?”

“This is what I’m doing now,” James replies easily. “I’m staying here with you.” 

“Oh.” You want to argue with him. Part of you feels like you should, wave him off, say I’ve got it, actually, but maybe you’re just needy. Your voice softens with apology. “Thanks.” 

“Come on,” says James, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck. “Of course, sweetheart. What else am I here for?” 

“You mean, other than to look good?” you tease him. 

You can hear his smile in his voice. “You did really miss out at the gym today. I was going to do arms.” 

“Now I’m extra sorry my back decided to mutiny.” 

“Hey, if it’ll help you relax to watch me do push-ups on your floor, just say the word. I’ll try whatever works.” 

[sammylkcho]

I beg of possessive sprout/GN! reader :3

- 🐺🔥💅

My first anon with emojis, welcome! It took me a while to write this, especially because it was something I was really excited to work on

I'm so sorry for the delay, I hope you like it!

Warnings/Notes: GN!Reader, possessive Sprout, jealous, just a little bit attitude of yandere, maybe..

For as long as you could remember, Sprout was always attached to you like gum, though it was odd—he was a strawberry, not gum.

More than once, your handler (the same one who managed Shelly) had to separate you both when it was time for your strict bed schedules in your respective rooms. Of course, just after midnight, Sprout would show up in your room with his pillow.

You didn’t mind these little things Sprout did at all—sometimes he even brought Cosmo, and it turned into a sleepover for the three of you! It was fun, and the best feeling in the world was taking a breather from everything around you. Especially for Sprout, who spent all day looking after the little ones at the Gardenview Center, not to mention the “special” days of the week with cooking demonstrations alongside Cosmo.

Sometimes, you felt a bit powerless, unable to share or lighten his exhaustion at the end of the day. You’d tell him he could take a break, even offering to keep a few kids with you (even if you weren’t the most popular toon) so he could get a quick rest, but he always turned it down, saying he was fine.

“I’m one of the mains; I can handle this. Besides, you should rest too! I could make you some cookies with Cosmo.”

You loved and hated that concern of his at the same time; sometimes it was overwhelming because, no matter how much you begged or asked him to take a break, the conversation always veered toward your well-being or baking you something you’d like.

Outside of those topics or the times you’d end up pouting in a corner, feeling helpless, everything was perfect. Being with the other toons was amazing; each had their own special charm that always managed to make you laugh. And of course, always with Sprout by your side (weird)���even he enjoyed being with everyone else.

But as they say, it was all too perfect to be true.

Boxten had been the first to be corrupted by the ichor.

Poor Poppy couldn’t believe her best friend had been turned into something like that. None of you believed it until Poppy tried to get close to him and was met with scratches and bruises marked across her skin.

They managed to pull her to safety just in time, bringing her to the elevator, and Tisha took care of her wounds, as there was no toon around who knew how to treat injuries.

"That… that wasn’t Boxten, was it?” you murmured, barely audible, resting your back against the elevator wall as you placed your right hand on the cold floor.

The sudden grasp of someone’s hand startled you for a moment. Turning, you realized it was your favorite strawberry.

Giving you one of his usual (this time, genuinely warm) smiles, he sat beside you, interlacing both your hands.

“You’re alright, aren’t you?” he asked, tilting his head to one side as he looked you up and down, searching for the slightest scratch.

“Yes.. I’m fine… it’s just, ugh.” With your left hand, you rubbed your face, struggling to find the right words for the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts inside you.

None of the toons had seen anything so violent, perhaps aside from the occasional squabble between kids or adults at Gardenview, but nothing like this.

“That thing wasn’t Boxten! It hurt Poppy; it didn’t seem to show her any compassion!” Your voice trembled with every word, and you could even feel your teeth chattering when you stopped talking.

“We saw him just fine this morning… he was fine…”

You began to sob, small tears escaping your eyes as you tried to calm yourself.

Gently, Sprout pulled you close, wrapping you in his arms and pressing you to his chest, with your face right where his scarf lay, not minding if it got wet from your tears.

“Shh… what matters is that we’re okay now, right?” he murmured.

“But Boxten and Poppy—”

“We’re okay.”

This time, it wasn’t a question; it was a confirmation, and you swallowed all your doubts and fears, nodding without another word.

He gave you one of those warm smiles he saved just for you. It was like freshly baked cookies—warm and sweet.

“We’re okay.” You repeated in a low but audible tone, curling up in his arms, trying to keep all the intrusive thoughts at bay.

When all the toons gathered in the lobby, they seemed like angry animals surrounding a single prey they all wanted to hunt down—Dandy.

The poor main seemed so relieved to see you when you arrived, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Oh,” he shouted, calling your name from where he was cornered, “give me a hand here! Some of them think there are monsters on certain floors, which is crazy because—”

“You’re trying to involve Y/N in your lie, Dandy?” Sprout interrupted, his voice so low that it startled some of the toons nearby.

“All I’m saying is that some of you are imagining things that aren’t true” Dandy replied, glancing between you and Sprout.

“And Y/N would understand better the lie you’re all plotting to spread. Right?”

Sprout’s grip on your hand tightened as Dandy spoke to you again, greatly angering him.

Why did he have to drag you into this lie he was planning?

“Boxten… that thing wasn’t Boxten. Boxten would never attack or hurt anyone, especially not Poppy.” You managed to say, shaking your head repeatedly as if trying to erase the image of Boxten attacking Poppy.

You could hear the voices of several toons rising as they confronted Dandy about the corrupted versions of various toons they had encountered or been attacked by.

In the midst of this chaos, Sprout’s voice brought you back to the present.

“Let’s go. We could find Cosmo and do something, just the three of us.” His voice was monotonous, but you didn’t pay it much mind, letting him lead the way.

Days went by, each shorter than the last, or one quicker than the next.

Several toons decided to form groups of eight to explore different floors and extract the ichor from some machines; the reasons for it faded from your mind under the stress and anxiety of possibly losing another toon.

What mattered was that you had Sprout, as unusual as he sometimes was.

You were in the elevator with Sprout, Goob, Glisten, Tisha, and Vee. This time, it was only the six of you since Toddles had been hurt by a twisted, and Rodger wanted to look after her.

As usual, you had your hand interlocked with Sprout’s, a gentle comfort.

The usual music from Dandy’s radio reached your ears, and you realized you hadn’t noticed when he arrived.

You turned slightly to look back at him, and when he caught your gaze, he immediately smiled and waved at you.

Not wanting to ignore him, you let go of Sprout’s hand for a moment and waved back.

Not five seconds passed before you noticed how quickly Sprout turned to look between you and Dandy. Dandy’s smile twisted into something that seemed to taunt Sprout without a word.

You looked at Sprout, noticing the leaves casting shadows on his face, making it difficult to discern his expression.

Before you could say anything, Dandy bid only you farewell before lowering his shop lever and disappearing, as he always did when the elevator reached its destination.

“You can wait outside while Goob distracts everyone, okay?” He took both your hands this time.

His sudden shift in demeanor puzzled you, but you simply nodded, stepping out as the elevator doors opened.

Sprout’s smile vanished once you were out of sight, replaced by a dark scowl.

“You shouldn’t lower yourself to Dandy’s level. He only does that to make you jealous,” Vee commented, her sudden presence by his side not surprising him at all.

“He thinks he’s the center of the universe with Y/N’s attention” he retorted, frowning at the thought of the bothersome flower.

“And you keep playing his "little, stupid and silly game".”

“I’m going to Y/N; I don’t trust Goob enough to keep all the twisteds distracted.” He changed the subject, moving in your direction.

“Let they breathe a little; even I’d feel suffocated if you were on me 24/7,” Vee commented, her tone serious.

Sprout halted, giving her a dark yet blank stare.

“Who are you to debate that?”

Without waiting for a response, he left the elevator, heading toward where you were. He’d left you alone on that floor long enough and still didn’t trust Goob’s distraction abilities.

Meanwhile, Vee grew frustrated with her friend’s childish, ridiculous behavior. He never seemed to leave you alone, even keeping you in the kitchen just for “company” or to show off his culinary skills.

Sometimes, she thought Sprout was even pushing his own limits, but she still trusted he couldn’t be so possessive.

Well.

She hoped you would set some boundaries too.

[joeyfranchise]

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕖

under the mistletoe

lsu!joe x fem!reader

summary: you and joe can’t stand each other. what happens when your stubbornness meets his head on… underneath the mistletoe.

warnings: minors dni, 18+. cocky joe is always his own warning, kissing, spitting, p in v, semi-public sex.

word count: 4.3k

note: happy first day of fic-mas! what better way to start than with lsu joe <333

“yeah, i’ll be able to make it… i think,” you say into your phones receiver, struggling to slide your uggs on and talk on the phone at the same time. “sorry margot! i’m scrambling this morning!” you tell your roommate, turning her on speaker and laying your phone on the counter.

her cheerful voice fills the kitchen as she responds. “it‘s okay babe! i just heard about this party and we have to go to it before we go home for christmas this year! can you write it on the fridge calendar?”

as you listen to margot talk, you pop a k-cup into your keurig and begin brewing it, sliding your trusty travel mug underneath to catch all of the delicious liquid that you can only hope will get you through this day.

“yep, i’ll put it on there! december 21st?” you ask her, popping the cap off the dry erase marker that your white-board calendar holds.

“yes, that’s right. we’ll just have to watch our alcohol intake that night since we both have an early flight the next morning.” she laughs.

you write the event down and close the marker, placing it back in its holder. you fix up your coffee as margot continues talking, filling you in on the campus drama she’s already seen this morning.

“so anyways girl,” she raved, the smirk on her face evident in her tone, “i saw justin and joe this morning talking to the same girl. like get a grip. they’re probably having another weird competition again.”

you scowl immediately as you hear joe’s name. the quarterback and his best friend chatting up the same girl, how cliché. “god i cannot stand them!” you reply with an eye-roll, annoyance present in your voice.

you weren’t sure why you hated joe so much. maybe it was the incessant flirting he did with you and every other girl you knew. maybe it was how his friend group always made bets on who could “bag bitches” first, or maybe it was just the overly confident attitude that seeped from his pores. every class that you took with him, you dreaded, because you knew he’d be right there on his bullshit the whole time.

over time, he grew to dislike you as well, especially when he realized his advances wouldn’t work on you. you tried your best to avoid and ignore him, but he always made it difficult for you. he’d bump you as you passed by, knocking you and your books over into the floor. he’d stick his foot out in hopes that you’d trip. he’d send unsolicited dick pics just because he knew it’d piss you off. the joke was on him when you’d reply with laughing emojis or even the shrimp emoji.

margot laughed at your anger. “joe’s honestly kinda funny.” she says, only making you scowl even more. “oh am i?” you can hear him ask her, it becomes obvious to you that he’s made his way over to your best friend. “mhmmm.” she draws out, and you gag. you can imagine her twirling her hair around her finger as she flirts back with him. puke.

“hey princess, comin’ to the party?” he asks, clear that he’d taken margot’s phone. hanging up the phone on him is your answer. how could she be talking trash about him flirting one minute, and then flirting back the next. you roll your eyes for nobody but yourself.

you grab all your things and leave your flat, locking the door behind you as you head to class, ready to get the last few days before winter break over with.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

the days seem to fly by, which you’re thankful for, and you pack your bag at the end of your last class before break with a smile on your face. the party is tonight, which you aren’t really excited for, but you’re going for margot and to get at least a little tipsy.

you sling your bag over your shoulder and head out of the class, your stomach growling as you think of what you should have for dinner.

you’re lost in thought as you walk, and soon you’re running straight into a hard body. as you look up to apologize you realize it’s joe, so you close your mouth as quickly as you’ve opened it.

“damn, princess.” he chuckles, grabbing your elbows to steady you. “if you wanted a hug i could just give you one.” he winks.

“no thanks.” you say, shoving him off you. “i’m too afraid i’ll catch chlamydia or something.” his friend ja’marr laughs at your words and joe throws him a scowl.

“that’s not how that works.” joe snarks, raising an eyebrow at you. “but then again, you probably wouldn’t know, you’re probably a virgin.”

you stomp down hard on his toe. “actually no, i fucked your dad.” you retort, blowing him a kiss as you walk past, and farther down the hallway.

you don’t see justin and ja’marr losing their minds at what you said, falling into each other with laughter. you also don’t see how joe stares as you walk away, a mix of anger and pride written all over his face.

when you make it home, you can barely get your keys out before margot is throwing open the door and dragging you in, headed straight for her closet. she has about ten different outfit options laid out, and even some she’s selected for you, including a beautiful strappy red dress.

“help me pickkkkk.” she whines, rifling through all the clothes she’s strewn over her bed. you pick up a navy bodycon dress with shiny silver accents and hold it up to her frame, followed by a long, dark green dress.

“i’ve always liked how these two look on you, marg. pick one of them!” you say, trying to sound as chipper as possible. she holds them both up as she turns to look in the floor length mirror, examining them and trying to make a decision.

“ughhhhh, i don’t knowwww.” she whines again, and you’ve had enough. you snatch the red dress off the bed and race out of her room, headed for your own. you lock the door behind you, and you hear margot laughing as she knocks at the door.

“bitch!” she yells, amused at your antics. you step into your bathroom, hanging the dress on the back of the door as you slip your clothes off and turn the hot shower on. you tie your hair up, not wanting it to get wet, and you step under the hot stream.

the water hits your back pleasantly, the warmth working at the knots of stress you’d been holding in your shoulder blades. you lathered your body wash onto your loofah and began scrubbing, washing away the ick of your day.

you quickly check your body, rinsing before turning the water off and stepping out of the shower to dry off with your favorite fluffy towel. you lotion up, put on some perfume, and apply a quick layer of makeup - concealer, mascara, and lipgloss - before sliding the dress on and letting down your hair. the red fabric hugged your shape in all the right places, and you posed in the mirror as you admired just how good you looked.

you plugged the curling iron in and as you waited for it to heat up you ran out into your room to slide a thong underneath your dress, followed by putting on a pair of sparkly silver heels. you began curling your hair shortly after, and then you applied some hairspray, then a few accentuating pieces of silver jewelry.

once you were satisfied with how you looked, you spritzed on some extra perfume and unplugged the curler, wrapping the cord around it and shoving it back under your bathroom cabinet. you unlocked your door and went out to the kitchen to try and find a quick snack before the party. you settled on toast, popping a piece of bread into the toaster and pushing the button down.

margot stepped out of her room and joined you in the kitchen just as you were spreading peanut butter on your bread, and she spun around so you could critique her look. she wore the navy dress with black heels, and she looked incredible.

you took a bite of toast before speaking, “it looks great babe!”

she gagged as you spoke with your mouth full. “i can’t believe you’re eating that in a dress, my dress no less!” she scowled playfully.

“i like living life on the edge.”

you finished your food and washed your hands quickly, margot was ready to get out the door. you grabbed your phone and locked up, heading to her car so she could drive to the party. you left your phone in her car as you arrived, knowing you’d be staying sober and driving back home tonight. you had originally planned on drinking, but you changed your mind. leaving your phone was against your better judgment, but you did it anyway.

margot left her phone as well but she gave you her keys, knowing you’d be dragging her ass home tonight since you had to fly out in the morning.

as you walked into the party, you laid down the game plan.

“alright, let’s try to stick together, no unnecessary hook-ups. and please don’t drink too much. i’d also like to get home in enough time to sleep a little, and finish packing a few things.” you tell her.

she rolls her eyes and calls you a procrastinator before reluctantly agreeing. you head into the party, the loud music was already bumping through the house and making the floor shake. you knew this was a “christmas” party, but you didn’t expect anything less than rap music to be blaring throughout the frat house.

you stuck by margot’s side as she waded to the kitchen, ready to indulge in a few drinks. you politely declined all that was offered to you, and you kept a close eye on your friend as she began downing shots. after a few sips of liquid courage she finally wanted to dance, so she pulled you along until you were passing through the doorway into a giant room that had been transformed into a dance floor. red lights created a sexy scene, and a disco ball was hung from the ceiling, swirling around and creating a beautiful pattern along the walls.

unfortunately, you didn’t make it past the door. as you were headed one way, joe was headed another, and his friends blocked you both so neither of you could pass.

“the fuck are y’all doing?” joe asked irritatedly, shooting pointed glares toward his friends and to you. “seriously, move and let me through.” you said, just as angered.

justin and ja’marr laughed and smirked at each other, and you noticed margot giggling too as she pointed up to the top of the door-frame. hanging there, of course, was a bit of mistletoe.

joe spoke first. he shoved at justin, “dude, fuckin’ move.” he said.

you tried pushing past ja’marr, but he wouldn’t budge. joe shot you a dirty look. “come on, let’s get it over with then.” he said, annoyance very clear in his tone.

“hell no.” you refuse, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “i’d rather stand here all night than kiss you.”

joe’s face turns to what seems to be a genuinely offended expression, and he mirrors your pose as he challenges you. “oh yeah? alright then.” he says, sticking his bottom lip out and furrowing his brow as he shakes his head. “let’s stand here all night.”

you firmly place your back against the door frame as you make eye contact with him, and he does the same. margot is standing by with his friends, and all three of them are laughing hysterically.

“literally the two most stubborn people i’ve ever seen in my life!” she giggles, leaning on ja’marr’s shoulder.

“you think we need to stand and watch ‘em?” justin asks, looking over at margot. ja’marr answers before she has the chance. “nah, if there’s one thing i know about 9, he ain’t backing down from a challenge.”

“y/n’s the same way. she’d argue with a brick wall if it meant she could prove a point. she won’t budge until he does.”

justin laughs at their answers before ushering them off to the dancefloor, leaving you and joe alone to stare at each other with utter disgust.

you huff as you look at joe, and he smirks back at you, unfazed by your little display of attitude. people pass between you and stop to kiss under the mistletoe, on the lips, cheek, or forehead. the two of you also earn many dirty looks.

standing there is honestly easy - at first. the sheer amount of dislike you have for joe is what’s holding you upright, it has to be. you continue to shoot dirty looks at him, all of which he returns, but after a while your legs start feeling weak. you slouch, eventually falling into a sitting position, and you fix your dress along your thighs so nobody can see under it. joe takes the opportunity to tease you.

“just a quick peck,” he smarms, making a kissy face at you. “that’s allll it’ll take.”

you gag, mostly jokingly, at the thought. “i don’t wan���t your lips anywhere near me, burrow.” he laughs and shakes his head, continuing to stand there with his arms crossed.

you sit there for what feels like hours - it has to be hours, people are leaving the party now… and joe is still across from you, still crouched against the doorway. people have resorted to stepping over you both to get through to the kitchen, pecking each other happily as they cross. some of joe’s friends have tried to come save him, they’ve offered to kiss you so he could come play beer pong or hangout, but you won’t let them. you made this bet with joe, and you have to see it through.

you figured joe would break whenever a girl would come offer herself up to him, but he didn’t. he declined everyone that wasn’t you, and brushed all his friends off. you pretended that didn’t affect you… but the fact that he was doing all this because of some stupid rivalry you had with him turned you on as much as it pissed you off, not that you’d ever admit that to him.

as the crowd starts to dwindle down you get nervous, you really need to get margot and head home, but there’s no way you’re breaking and kissing joe. you look over and see her kissing ja’marr in the corner and you roll your eyes. joe seems kinda proud of his friend and a tiny smirk falls upon his lips.

you scoff.

“what’s your problem?” he asks you, sticking his foot out and kicking yours. “i really need to get going. margot and i have to fly out early and she’s over there sucking face. and i’m over here…”

“not sucking face?” he laughs, tilting his head slightly. “exactly.” you agree.

“look, if it’s bothering you that bad,” he shrugs, “i’ll give you a peck to get it over with. then you and margot can leave.” for a moment you think you can see a crack in that ‘fuckboy’ exterior. you aren’t sure you want to take him up on that offer, but you know neither of your friends will let you move from this spot if you don’t.

you think about it for a brief second, and reluctantly agree to let joe kiss you. you try to talk yourself down. i mean, it could be worse. at least he isn’t ugly.

“okay… fine. but you have to tell everyone you caved.”

“whatever you say, princess.” he lilts, already leaning in toward you. “don’t call me that, i hate it.” you snap, looking him firmly in the eye.

“why?” he teases, inching closer, “it’s what you act like. even now, getting your way so you can go home instead of standing here all night. you’re a spoiled little princess.”

you reach out your hand and place it on his chest, you definitely don’t want to kiss him now. that doesn’t stop him, though. he’s already almost there until finally, his lips are touching yours as his frame towers over yours a bit. you’re both still sitting on the floor, but joe stands up quickly and yanks you up with him.

your immediate reaction to the kiss is to squirm away, but joe doesn’t let you. he wraps his arms around your smaller frame and pulls you into him, caging you against his chest. his lips start moving against yours and after a moment, you start kissing back.

all the alarms in your head are going off, but you can’t force yourself to care now. joe is a really good kisser. your hands find their way to his hair, tugging slightly. joe pulls away for a quick breath.

“went from not wanting my lips near ya to tugging on my shit real quick, huh?”

you slap his arm, earning yourself a laugh. you wait for joe to lean back in, but he never does, and for some reason you feel hurt by it. you look over and see margot still occupied with ja’marr, and then you turn your attention back to joe. he takes in your expression before laughing, you look like a kicked puppy.

“what’s wrong, princess?” he teases again, sliding his hands back around your waist. “didn’t realize you liked me so much?”

“fuck off, joe.” you retort, but you’re laughing as you say it. you stand on your tiptoes to meet his lips again, and he obliges you. you move together in sync, and this time he keeps his hold on you, pulling you even closer.

“always knew you liked me, could fuck you under this mistletoe if i wanted.” he rasps. you moan at the thought. you aren’t sure what’s come over you. you didn’t drink anything… you aren’t usually desperate… maybe it’s something to do with the fact that joe said he didn’t want this just as much as you said you didn’t, but here you are both reveling in each other’s touch. it felt like you couldn’t get close enough to each other. he pushes your back against the doorway, finally moving his hands off your hips and tangling them in your hair.

the tip of his tongue dips into your mouth slightly, and you push yours back against his, sliding it along the roof of his mouth as you slip past his lips. before you know it, joe’s dragging you down the hall and into the first vacant room he can find before he’s throwing you down onto the bed and towering over you. you push up to unzip your dress, realizing you might want this just as much as he does, but he stops you by holding out a hand.

“nah, keep it on. slide it up.”

you do as you’re told, sliding your dress over your legs, wiggling your butt and arching your back so you can get it up over ass and hips. joe drinks in the sight of you, your smooth legs and gorgeous body. you’re insecure about yourself a lot, but he’s looking over you like a man starved as he licks his lips.

he doesn’t bother closing the door as he stalks toward you, pulling a condom from his back pocket with one hand while unbuttoning his pants with the other. you slide your panties down your legs and spread them open for him with confidence.

“fuck,” he gasps, watching as you dip your fingers down between your folds to gather some of your wetness and then you rub them in tight circles on your clit. you gasp as you touch yourself, your eyes following joe as he finally pulls his pants down far enough, fisting his hand along his admittedly large length. you always teased him about it in pictures, but it was big. he knew it, you knew it, half of the state of louisiana knew it. and to your dismay, it was prettier in person.

joe finally makes it to the edge of the bed, still watching you as you work yourself. you figured you’d be cringing at the lack of foreplay, or how his pants aren’t even all the way off, but you can’t bring yourself to care as he continues stroking himself before ripping open the condom and sliding it on. he gets on the edge of the bed by his knees and comes toward you a little, a hand extending out to run a finger through your heat and gather some of the wetness pooling there. he smears it all over his cock, and even though the condom is there, it still drives you crazy to see. “joe, come on before i back out.” you tell him, and you almost don’t recognize your fucked out voice.

the heat of the moment is so enticing to you both. his clothes are still on, pants down his legs halfway, and your dress is hiked up while you dig your high heeled shoes into someone else’s mattress. he finally leans forward and slides into you. you take a sharp breath, feeling more full than you ever have as he pushes in to the hilt.

joe barely gives you any time to adjust before he’s thrusting into you roughly. his lips find yours again and you gasp into his mouth. he pulls away slightly, allowing a drop of spit to fall from his lips into your mouth, which you take happily. you’re both moving sloppily against each other, but as joe brings his hand to your clit to flick his fingertips against it gently, you can’t bring yourself to even care. you’ve had sex with plenty of people and you’ve had orgasms before, but you’ve never experienced the euphoria joe is making you feel.

the warmth starts at the top of your head and it spreads throughout your extremities, into your fingertips and toes. you arch into him, your lips still moving together, and joe’s hips are still pounding into yours, shaking the bed against the wall. you cringe as you hear margot’s keys jingling in your bra. it doesn’t seem to bother joe.

with a few quick slips of his fingers over your clit, you’re cumming against him without warning, and harder than you ever have in your life. the tight squeeze around his cock as you cum is the catalyst for his own orgasm as he spills into the condom.

he pulls out of you with haste, ready to tie off the condom and discard it as fast as possible, hating how slimy it feels. just as soon as he’s moved you dart off the bed, grabbing your panties and slipping them up your legs before attempting to make a run for it.

joe pulls his pants and boxers up, tucking himself in and then runs after you, making it to the door before you. “pretty good, wasn’t it?” he jokes, and you roll your eyes at him before pushing past and walking back down the hall, headed for margot. he chases after you.

“okay, didn’t last as long as i normally would, but i mean, we could do it again, i could prove it. that was… you were…”

you press a finger to his lips as you pass through the very same doorway that got you into this predicament. your eyes study joe’s face as he nervously worries his bottom lip between his teeth. you’ve never seen him like this before, he’s shaken up, and you like that you’re the cause of it. you’d hate to admit it, but you would like to do this again. you point up at the mistletoe and joe takes the hint, pulling you in for another short yet sweet kiss.

“text me.” is all you say before walking over to margot, grabbing her by the arm, and dragging her out the door and to the car. you pull her keys from your bra and unlock it, opening the passenger door and shoving her in before going to the drivers side and starting the ignition.

margot slurs her words as she speaks to you. “wha’ happened? did’ya kiss ‘im?”

“i’ll tell you later, marg.” you say, eager to get home as quickly as possible. you park as quickly as you’ve pulled into the space and you help margot out, grabbing both your phones before you go inside, taking margot right to her room. she insists she’s okay enough to take off her makeup and undress, and she promises she’ll drink water before she falls asleep. you head to your room, shocked to see the clock on your phone reading 1:00am already.

you set yourself an alarm for six, and you undress quickly before sliding on some pajamas and settling in bed.

when you wake the next morning it’s to margot beating on your door. “wake the hell up, we missed our flight!”

you scramble out of bed, unplugging your phone and running out into the hall. margot stands next to her door, laughing at you as you panic.

“don’t just stand there, marg!” you shout, your voice laced with panic. “we’ve gotta get dressed, load our bags, call the airport—“

she cuts you off with a loud laugh. “relax, y/n.” she says between giggles. “we aren’t late. i just wanted to get back at you. how dare you sleep with the quarterback and not tell your best friend?” she shoves your shoulder.

you look down at your phone, realizing it’s only 6:10am. “bitch.” you laugh, running back into your room. you lock the door behind you again, and margot continues her laughter. “i need all the juicy details! literally every last second of it, you have to tell me everything!”

you weren’t sure how she even knew, even though you’re sure ja’marr probably texted her.

you roll your eyes at her even though she can’t see it as you head to your bathroom, ready to take a quick shower. you check your phone one last time before hopping in the water, noticing a text notification from joe, who you’ve affectionately saved as “fuckface.”

you don’t open it just yet, but you crack a smile knowing he’s messaged you already. what have you gotten yourself into?

all photos and dividers used are not mine. all credit to owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @joeyburrrow

[lulunothulu]

“All I needed was you”

Glen Powell x Reader

Inspired by that one tiktok where Glen’s friend calls him but he’s on set and yet, he STILL sends a voice message 😭

You were freaking out. This was a heart racing, hands sweaty, mind fogging freak out.

You’d tried counting to ten, tapping your chest to regulate your heart…you’d tried almost everything that normally helped. But nothing was working.

You needed him.

You needed Glen.

You knew your boyfriend wouldn’t be able to come to the phone due to filming in London. The time comparison alone almost kept you from texting him. However, you knew he’d step aside even for a second just to be able to get you out of this spiral.

You didn’t know why you were having this anxiety attack. All you knew was that you needed to hear Glen’s voice for just a second. That’s what brought you to text him.

You: I’m freaking out.

You: Please text me when you can.

You waited, patiently rocking yourself on the floor of you and Glen’s bedroom.

One one-thousand.

Two one-thousand.

Three one-thousand.

Four—

Your phone times indicating you got a text message, stopping you from your anxious counting.

Glen: Hey, I’m on set right now, but I can try to call you in a little bit when I have a break. 

You smiled down at your phone and quickly text back a thumbs up emoji. Only, his reassuring words don’t help. In your mind, you know that he will call you when he can, but something in you still tells you that he’s never going to call you back.

Get out of my head. He’ll call me when he’s ready. He’s just—

Another chime from your phone indicating a text. This time when you click on the notification, you find a voice message from Glen.

“Hey darlin’,” he says, his Texan accent a bit strong. “What do you need? Are you alright? It’s okay to be freaking out, lay it on me. I promise I’ll call you during my break so we can talk about it.”

At just the sound of his voice, you feel your heart begin to beat at a normal rate. Your once sweaty palms are now starting to dry up. The clouds in your mind begin to fade away, the rainbow of clarity appearing in its place.

You: All I needed was you. Your voice.

It’s like Glen knew exactly what you needed and delivered without you having to ask. When he texts you back, you smile down at your phone. 

Glen: I’m glad I could help, even in the smallest way.

Glen: I have to get back on set, but I’ll call you when I have a break.

You: Sounds good baby.

Glen: I love you 😘

You: I love you too 💗

And it was true. You loved him so deeply, it hurt when you couldn’t be with him.

Because he was all you needed, all you need. 

Here’s something sweet and short for you all today. I feel like Glen would be so good at mistakenly, calming me down during an anxiety attack. Especially when he uses his soft voice 😭

[23xfgg]

YANDERE! BATFAM x DRUG USER/SOBER! READER

(Ch. 1)

(Ch. 2)

(Ch. 3)

Ch. 3.o5 <-

Alpha // this chapter is going to take a more of a sadder route because I need to lay some bricks down for the framing of chapter 4.

Tag list is till open but will close by chapter 5 (if we ever get there) so just comment if you still want to be apart of the taglist or nah

Also here is some tissues if needed [insert box of tissues emoji because apple doesn’t have one] !!!

ENJOY THE CHAPTER 🐺🐺🐺‼️‼️‼️‼️

Edit: I forgot the TW// mentions of death, drug use, alcohol consumption, more mentions of death and gore, mentions of body/ corpse mutilation, and borderline suicidal thoughts.

It’s been a very off week.

Nothing especially bad has happen but the week just felt bad. Well, a couple of your stashes across Gotham got raided but that not something you are really hung up on.

But the week was just bad.

Every day through out the week just felt draining. It was the same routine over and over again. Wake up -> avoid the family and skip breakfast -> go to school (avoid Tim, Damian and Duke) -> walk home once school ends -> get ready (again) -> do drugs at some underground pit -> sneak back in so Alfred or any other member of the bat family doen’t catch you or raise suspicions -> sleep -> repeat. Even though the highs are worth it, dome days you just feel like an empty husk doing whatever you normally do to get by. And these days you don’t even have the energy to even properly get the sort of comfort that the drugs bring you or even go to see your only friend. So you just spend the night in your room surrounded by yourself and your thoughts. You are not completely sober when its just you in your room, you still have the alcohol stash hidden underneath the loose floor boards under your bed. But even so, when its just you alone in your room with a bottle of alcohol your thoughts get pretty dark. Thoughts about your mother’s death, thoughts about how you would die, gore and who would you piss off enough to get your organs removed and have your corpse mutilated and/or violated and left in a random ditch in crime ally. Overall just dark thoughts that you just lay there spiralling in those thoughts until the morning. Sometimes you wish that you take a swig of alcohol its goes down the wrong pipe and it kills you leaving your body to rot one top of the overpriced mattress in your room.

Your routine is the same, your habits are the same and it just gets boring. You just want to switch it up.

That’s what lead you to some abandoned building in Gotham shearing a blunt and some whisky with Adam. Sure its the same routine but its a different location so its with someone so its wayyy better than before.

You meet Adam when you first stumbled on that drug pit. He has been there for years and it was your first time. He offered you a puff on his blunt while you looked so nervous other people there thought you were undercover for cops. Over a time you have gotten close to the young adult and see him as some sort of a brother figure while he sees you as a little sister. The relationship dynamic between both of you being clear as day towards the other drug users. All to the point that if one of you turns up at the pit and cannot find the other right away someone else who is there might be kind enough to point out where you were or if you have arrived yet. Maybe if you both meet at a different time instead of that night you probably won’t have been friends or maybe you would…you don’t know and you don’t want to ponder on it for too long…it’s killing your buzz.

You pass the blunt off to Adam and watched as he takes a longer drag than he normally does, holding it for longer and then finally exhaling. You thought maybe your perspective of time is messed up and everything was in more of a slow motion in your perspective compared to reality. But that doesn’t change you noticing how his eyes appear more sunken, his hands more fidgety and that conflicting look he has in his eyes like he wants to say something but he doesn’t want to or he can’t. You open your mouth to ask him what’s wrong only to be passed the blunt again. Well if he wanted to tell you anything he would, so clearly what ever is on his mind is not for you to hear. So in turn you dismissed the thought and the both of you continued the simple rotation of drinking and smoking, smoking and drinking in the silence you have grown to appreciate with him.

20 minutes go buy and you crack open a new bottle that you may or may not have stolen from Bruce’s liquor cabinet (he won’t notice he doesn’t drink), and just as the liquor was about to go down your throat that’s when he said it.

“I’m going sober.”

In the sudden shock the whisky goes down the wrong pipe and giving you a coughing fit that could have killed you. Once you were done with an inch of your life left you turned to the 20 sumthing year old male next to you with eyes so wide it looks like you had your eyes hallowed out. (🐺: 😨).

“W-what?” You stuttered out still feeling the effect of that 1875 whisky entering your lungs instead of your stomach.

“I’m going sober.” Adam repeated matter of factly like it was a normal conversation topic to bring up. “And before you ask if it’s a sudden decision the answers answer is no. I have been thinking about it for almost a month now…” he says grabbing the bottle from you and taking a swig from it wincing at how strong the liquor was.

“May I ask why…I mean you showed no indication that this was a decision that would come up.” You asked back trying to find a reason on why he would want to do this and why are you losing the only genuine friend you have.

“My brother died last month. Mugging at night.” Adam responds. “He has a wife and a two month old that he left behind and our parents are assholes would won’t help their own daughter-in-law because of some fucked up reason I don’t know of.” The reason shocks you. You have heard of his brother but that was only in passing when the two of you walk the streets of Gotham and Adam sees something that reminds him of his childhood. You don’t respond because in reality you don’t know how.

You knew he had a good relationship with his brother despite those arguments they have about Adam needing to become sober. Those arguments leaving to two brothers to not talk for months until one breaks the silence and reaches out. And in all honesty you knew what’s it’s like to loose someone but you can barely remember what your mom looked, sounds or acted like and you burry everything with drugs, alcohol and more drugs unable or not wanting to grieve.

Adam takes note of your silence and understands why you are not responding he is not looking for pity or anything he just doesn’t need that.

“I have to step up for my nice and my sister-in-law. She has no one else to turn to and she can’t take care of a two month old and go to work at the same time…” He continues. Taking in your silence as the green light to continue speaking. “Even though I’m only a high school graduate and have a pretty bad track record with substance abuse…I want to try. For my brother, my niece and my sister-in-law Nimura. Because I want her to know she at least has someone supporting her.”

It was unintentional but the stung. For multiple reasons: the fact that you are loosing a friend, someone you cared for and who supported you despite your addiction, and jealousy / envy you ere envious of the fact that some people actually have people that can support them during hard times. You wanted that for yourself. You wanted some to rely on. You wanted someone to notice, help and make time for you like Adam is planning to do with his niece and his sister-in-law. You live in a whole manor full of people and the only thing a child who lost their mother wants did not happen with you. You just wanted her back…you wanted your mum back but you can’t.

Maybe because your high your emotions are heightened but the realisation hits you like a truck… knowing you can’t see your mom again and that for “family” can’t or won’t help you through it. Pools start to form around you eyes threatening to spill when a hand start to caress your cheek.

“Aww are you going to miss me?” Adam pulls you out of your mind zone with that joking tone that would normally be used between siblings. Rapidly blinks away your tears you push away his hand from your face and scoffed out a no in the same joking tone he used towards you while repositioning yourself to be lying down on the floor staring and the popcorn ceiling above you. Adam lets out a chuckle as he lies down next to you staring at the same ceiling.

You both returned to that comfortable silence before it was broken by a simple question. “Are you going to try be anything once you become sober?” You questioned the man next to you as you turn you head to face his side profile, he continues to look onwards.

“Maybe…I never really had an interest in anything before all of the so I will probably try out college and see how things go on from there…what about you?” Adam responded. It’s clear that he had never gave the thought of amounting to anything much…thought but to have the question then pointed at you sent you thinking as you looked back at the ceiling.

“I don’t know…never gave it much thought. I’m probably going to die from overdosing. Dying Yong and pretty sounds like a dream.” You responded back brushing the topic off like it’s already written in stone that you will die with a liquor bottle in your hand.

“No. Seriously what do you want to be. Before all of this…what would you tell your mom you wanted to be when you were younger?” Adam responded in a more serious tone than before. Like he was trying to get you to actually think and give him a good response.

“Umm…wow! Okay-“ You spluttered out in shock with his tone. “Umm probably something to do with chemistry because that’s what she worked in. So either a cosmetic chemist or a pharmacist given my wide arrange of drug knowledge.” You responded hearing the rustling of this clothes and a simple hum like he is satisfied with your answer.

After what felt like hours of you expecting a response from him, Adam finally responded with “You can still be that you know…You still have a chance to be something…someone and move on.”

“I don’t think I can…being left with my own thoughts is too much.” And to be fair you have considered it once… getting clean and actually progressing with your like but you would always fall back on those plans for whatever excuse you can make up because your own thoughts are too much.

“Sure you can…you just don’t have a reasonable drive to do so. If you can’t do it for yourself do it for your mom. Sure she would be proud about the fact that you are at least trying to be better.” And those words made you think. Thinking about how would your mom react to you doing drugs? How would she help? Would she send you to those camps or would she put you in therapy? Would you even be on drugs if she was around? Questions that made you think for what only felt like a short while but in reality it was over ten minutes. You only seem to slightly register that when Adam pored out the half drunk bottle of whiskey in one of the dingy corners of the room and said his goodbyes asking you to keep in touch no matter what your decision is because you both need friends and to message him when you get home safely.

After he left you thought about everything you used to do with your mom: the baking, the park trips, the girls night, tea parties and even just watching her get dolled up just because it was a Sunday and she had nothing better to do. And even her death. All those memories, slowly fading with time made you realise how much you missed your mom. You knew that she would never be mad at you but that does stop you from thinking about how disappointed she is looking down on you right now.

And as all this was clouding your mind tears slipped past your eyes and rand down your face. Small whimpers left your mouth as the blunt slipped from your hands and onto the ground next to you and more and more tears rolled down your face. And with all those tears you only managed one complete sentence…

“I miss you mama…”

Alpha: RAH I ACTUALLY COMPLETED THIS ‼️‼️‼️ I WAS THIS CLOSE ON JUST NOT CONTINUING THE THIS IF I DIDNT WRITE THIS CHAPTER

Hopefully that made you guys cry a little (it did me) because I used up all my brain power on this so now I need to think about chapter 4 😭😭😭

Taglist (status: open) - if your tag is not working or I forgot you please tell me in the comments and I will have it updated if I can😔

@welpthisisboring @vanessa-boo @shycreatorreview @jsprien213 @1abi @cxcilla @moon0goddess @sadeem575 @galaxypurplerose @zeros-rot @visualchu @lostsomewhereinthegarden @waterberryss @burningkittenprince @91-kya @scoutyyy @haileybugulug @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dakotali @tcddszn @ninabinna @irenehart02

Now see you my beautiful omegas on the next chapter

ALPHA OUT BWE BWE NEWO🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺‼️

[hearts4sammonroe]

baby daddy scott or sam while labour ommmggggg would they be girl or boy dad??? pls make a story of this omg. btw ur writing is so good periooodddd

pairing: baby daddy scott and sam x f!reader

contains: headcanons! fluff, angst (?), swearing.

a/n: hope you like it 😛 I decided to do headcanons bc I wanted to write for both of them in this situation! also THANK YOUUUUU🫶

divider credit: @kodaswrld

☆ Scott Barringer would definitely be a girl dad!

☆ Definitely freaked the fuck out at first “Scott, my water just broke” “it WHAT?! NOW? OH SHIT!”

☆ Damn near going 100 miles on the road to the hospital which was freaking YOU out

☆ Anytime you had a contraction while in the car he was speeding even more, glancing over a million times in a panic

☆ When you were finally at the hospital he was breathing with you. “Scott, you’re not the one giving birth! What are you doing?” “I’m breathing!”

☆ You asked him to look down there and see if it looked okay. Bad idea. Lots of blood. “Yeah, babe, it looks— *gag*— looks great! *gag*”

☆ Probably annoyed the nurses because he yelled “oh shit there’s her head!”

☆ But when the baby was finally out he was probably crying more tears of joy than you. “Look at our pretty girl.” He sniffles, even if all newborns look like aliens at first.

☆ Held you and the baby as much as he could

☆ Best girl dad ever even if he was pure chaos during the birth

☆ Hot dad walk out of the hospital 😛

☆ Sam Monroe definitely panicked too when your water broke.

Don’t fuck me with like that, I almost had a heart attack.” But then he sees the evidence on the floor. “OH FUCK… okay, okay, it’s okay.”

☆ Is “calming you down” while grabbing the baby bag, walking to the car, and the whole way to the hospital. He was really just calming himself down.

☆ Probably passed out during it. The nurses have to ignore if dads pass out or get sick so he was just laying there for a minute. Just on the floor looking dead.

☆ “All right, you got it baby, just a few more pushes like the nurse said. Just squeeze my hand.” But then yelps when you actually squeeze it. Dramatic ass.

☆ I can see him being a boy dad

☆ When the baby’s head came out he peeked and his jaw dropped. “Holy shit, he’s got so much hair!”

☆ When the nurses handed the baby to you, he was holding you both at the same time. Everyone crying. He did NOT want the nurses to take him. “What? Already?” “Sam, they have to clean him up and do all the shots and usuals.” “Oh.” Literally looked like this emoji: ☹️

☆ He may have a rough background, but he loves you and that baby so much. When you were sleeping he held the baby. Just couldn’t stop looking at him. But he woke you up when the baby’s tiny little hand wrapped around his finger. “He grabbed me! Look!”

☆ “He looks so weird, I love him so much.” He sniffles. Compliment and insulting his newborn… definitely Sam.

taglist: @anakinstwinklebunny @haydenismyman @anisangeldust @cassielunaaa @madsluvsdilfs @mvst4far @divineani @alealuvshayden

[airybcby]

hii I wanted to send a request for the more than a married couple event😋 I wanted to request rin and the emojis 🫐 and 🧁

Hi!!

A Rin Itoshi Blueberry Cupcake

જ⁀♡⊹｡° but my luck couldn't get any worse

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event

♡ content — rin itoshi x gn! reader, gn! reader, rin still plays soccer, people view rin as 'cold' and 'cruel', one bed trope, kinda forced proximity(?), made it where rin doesn't mean to be cold he just doesn't know how to interact with others, set in high school (third year/senior year), mention of god one or twice, rin is a DIVA (he doesn't wanna sleep on the couch)

♡ synopsis — you could live with rin itoshi as long as the two of you just stayed out of each others space. that was the easy part...until his bed decided to break.

The marriage simulation announcement hit the school like a tidal wave. Some students were giddy with anticipation, while others, like you, wanted to melt into the floor. Living with someone and pretending to be married for an entire month? The idea alone made your stomach churn.

But nothing prepared you for what happened next.

Your name. Rin Itoshi’s name. Side by side on the pairing list.

The moment you saw it, the air seemed to shift. Whispers darted through the room like wildfire, and everyone’s eyes locked on you. You looked over at Rin, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but his piercing teal eyes glanced briefly in your direction before looking away again.

"Good luck," someone muttered, half-pitying, half-jealous.

With the reputation Rin Itoshi held, you thought you may need more than luck to survive the next month.

The silence in the simulation apartment was deafening when you and Rin first arrived. Like the other couples, you were handed a list of tasks and expectations, ranging from grocery shopping to date nights to budgeting your "shared" finances. Unlike most of the other pairs, however, Rin made no effort to hide his disinterest.

He surveyed the apartment with a sharp gaze before retreating to his room with barely a word. You were left standing in the living room, clutching the folder of instructions and wondering how you’d survive the next month.

It didn’t help that Rin had a reputation. Brooding, blunt, and fiercely competitive—those were the words most people used to describe him. But as the days went on, you realized there was more to him than that.

Rin wasn’t completely unbearable. In fact, he was startlingly efficient when it came to the tasks. Cooking, cleaning, and even budgeting—he handled it all with precision, as if he were strategizing for a soccer match. But the atmosphere between you remained tense, like walking on eggshells.

Until the incident with the bed.

It happened a week into the simulation. You were reading through the task list when Rin walked out of his room, an unusually irritated look on his face.

“There’s a problem,” he said flatly.

“What kind of problem?” you asked warily, putting the list down.

He gestured toward the open door of his room. “The bed frame broke.”

You blinked. “Wait—what?”

“The bed frame,” he repeated, his tone clipped. “It’s broken. Maintenance won’t fix it until next week.”

“Oh.” You hesitated. “I guess you’ll have to… sleep on the couch?”

Rin’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. “The couch is too small.”

“Well, then what—” You stopped mid-sentence as the realization hit you. “No. Absolutely not.”

“It’s just a bed,” he said, crossing his arms. “I don’t care.”

“Yeah, but—” You faltered, heat rushing to your cheeks. Sharing a bed with Rin Itoshi? That sounded like the setup to a bad rom-com, not something you’d willingly agree to. But his expression left little room for argument.

“Fine,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. “But stay on your side.”

That night, you lay stiffly on one side of the bed, clutching the blanket like a lifeline. Rin was equally silent beside you, his back turned as if to create as much distance as possible. The bed wasn’t small, but it felt like it, the awareness of his presence making every breath feel amplified.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath.

“What is?” Rin’s voice cut through the darkness.

“This. All of this,” you said, gesturing vaguely even though he couldn’t see. “The simulation, the tasks, the… shared bed situation.”

He didn’t respond right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you expected. “It’s not like I asked for this either.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But it’s just so… awkward.”

Rin shifted slightly, and you felt the mattress dip beneath his weight. “Then stop overthinking it.”

You turned your head to look at him, surprised by his candidness. His profile was outlined faintly by the moonlight streaming through the window, and for a moment, you saw a different side of him—less guarded, more human.

“Easier said than done,” you murmured, rolling onto your back.

Rin didn’t reply, but his presence felt a little less suffocating after that.

Oh and, also, the matienence people never came to fix his bedframe. You were sure this was some sort of malicious prank on you. As if god himself had been watching you like this was a comedy only he found funny.

One morning, about halfway through the week, you woke to the warmth of something solid and steady pressed against you. For a moment, you didn’t move, still caught in that hazy place between sleep and wakefulness. It wasn’t until you shifted slightly that you realized Rin’s arm was draped over your waist, his chest rising and falling against your back.

Your eyes flew open. How had this even happened?

Slowly, you turned your head to glance back at him, your heart racing. Rin was still asleep, his expression unusually peaceful. The usual tension in his features was gone, replaced by something softer, something you couldn’t quite describe.

You thought about moving, but the warmth of his arm, the weight of his presence—it wasn’t… uncomfortable. And judging by how relaxed he seemed, he didn’t seem to mind either.

So you stayed. Just for a little while longer.

When Rin finally stirred, his eyes fluttering open, you braced yourself for the inevitable awkwardness. But to your surprise, he didn’t pull away immediately. His gaze met yours, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was thick, but not unbearable.

Then, he spoke. “...How did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Rin’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he finally moved, his arm sliding away as he sat up. “It’s… whatever,” he muttered, his tone strangely subdued. “Don’t overthink it.”

You sat up too, your heart still pounding. “I wasn’t—”

“Good.” He got out of bed and walked toward the bathroom, his movements uncharacteristically hesitant. Just before disappearing inside, he paused. “...Sorry, by the way.”

You blinked. “For what?”

“For that,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the bed. And then he was gone.

You stared after him, your thoughts swirling. Maybe it was nothing. Or maybe it was something.

The following days brought small but surprising changes. Rin, while still stoic, seemed to make more of an effort to engage with you. It wasn’t much—an extra question here, a quiet comment there—but it was enough to shift the dynamic between you.

And then there were the moments when the “fake couple” act forced you closer than you were comfortable admitting. Holding hands in public, sitting closer during classes, and—most unnerving of all—the lingering touches that came with the territory.

“It’s for the grade,” Rin said one afternoon, his hand resting lightly on your lower back as you walked into a mock “family dinner” event.

“Sure,” you replied, trying to ignore the way your heart sped up at his touch.

The bed situation, meanwhile, remained an unspoken tension between you. Every night, you’d lie on opposite sides, trying your best to ignore the proximity. But as the days went on, the awkwardness began to fade.

One night, after an exhausting day of tasks, you both collapsed onto the bed without much ceremony. You didn’t even realize how close you’d ended up until you felt Rin’s arm brush against yours.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, moving to create space.

“Don’t,” he said quietly. “It’s fine.”

You glanced at him, surprised. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady, but there was something oddly comforting about his presence. Against your better judgment, you allowed yourself to relax.

By the final week of the simulation, the line between “fake” and “real” had become increasingly blurred. Rin wasn’t just tolerable—he was… comforting. Reliable. And, though you hated to admit it, you found yourself looking forward to his company.

The realization hit you like a freight train one evening as you sat together on the couch, going over the final budget task. He looked up from the spreadsheet, his teal eyes meeting yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“You’re staring,” he said bluntly.

You blinked, heat rushing to your face. “No, I’m not.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press the issue. Instead, he returned to the spreadsheet, leaving you to grapple with your own feelings.

The final task—a formal dinner—was both a relief and a heartbreak. As you stood side by side, dressed to the nines and presenting your “marriage” portfolio to the grading panel, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. The simulation was almost over.

When it ended, the apartment felt strangely empty. You packed your things in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

“Hey,” Rin said suddenly, breaking the quiet.

You turned to face him, your heart pounding. “Yeah?”

He hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. “I don’t want this to be over.”

You stared at him, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “What?”

“This,” he said, his voice firmer now. “I don’t want it to go back to the way it was.”

A lump formed in your throat as his words sank in. “Rin…”

Before you could say anything else, he stepped closer, his teal eyes locking onto yours. “You don’t have to say anything now. Just… think about it.”

As if you needed time to think about being with the Rin Itoshi.

ugh i love rin so much

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[honestlyanowl]

what if, what if Jinx being absolutely Obsessed with curvyplussized!reader— like she can't help but be all over her, pawing, palming, groping at whatever she could get her hands on, maybe even her mouth. Chubby cheeks? Plush stomach? Hips? Breasts? Ass? Thighs? Our girl J is absolutely floored like she can't help but eye reader until she just can't help but beg the poor woman to sit on her face! reader would be so reluctant, not wanting to suffocate her, but before she knows it Jinx already has her hands on her thighs and dragging her to her awaiting lips! PLSPLSPLS WRITE THIS! 🙏🙏🙏

oh lord this is golden ♡ jinx would be feral! (REQUESTS OPEN) - (IF YOU WANT TO BE A KNOWN ANON PUT -*EMOJI* AFTER A REQUEST/ASK)

Content: Nsfw - smut, face sitting, explicit descriptions, groping, dom!jinx (?) sub!plussized reader ᝰ.ᐟ

You weren't sure when this obsession started, maybe it was the sudden need to have her arms around you at any chance she had, or the way she jumped to shut you up before you could talk down on your appearance.

But Jinx had become utterly, almost- dangerously infatuated with you, and your body, to be more precise.

You supposed it had always been this way in some cases, but now more than ever.

She was practically drooling over you at this point.

You were trying to relax? She'd be all over you, legs straddled either side of your hips as her hands palmed at any skin she could find.

She was like a desperate dog; whimpering as she pawed at your curves, and the subtle rolls in your stomach.

It was one of those things you weren't entirely sure how to react to, though, it wasn't unpleasant, in fact the flattery had you making soft sounds under her touch—her hands eagerly groping one of your breasts, the other laced with your fingers as she stuffed her face into your neck, littering it with kisses and desperate pecks.

"J-jinx..?" though you tried to make your voice clear, it came out more of a breathy whine.

The one hand that wasn't being brutally squeezed by Jinx's, lifted to hold the back of her head as she nipped and grazed her teeth along your collarbone.

"Just- let me have this..." You could feel her breath mingle across your skin as she sighed against it.

She recoiled her hands from you to attempt to unbuckle your belt, eventually discarding it blindly across the room, you were obviously wide eyed; but she was aware that you would tell her to stop if she overstepped.

She was moving fast, you almost felt a little overwhelmed, unsure what to do or say in response.

You back arched instinctively as she fumbled with the zipper on your pants, swallowing thickly as that too cluttered onto a pile on the ground.

Her eyes flicker up to meet yours for a brief moment, pink irises drowned in longing as she paused her motions, reaching up to cup your face, giving your cheeks an affectionate squeeze.

"Fuck'n adorable."

Within a matter of dizzying moments, she had dragged you to the thin mattress she called a bed, one of the "perks" of living in such a place as Zaun.

With you half undressed, just standing in a shirt and your maroon coloured panties, and Jinx still fully clothed— you felt a tad exposed.

"Aren't you going to-" You start, if anything Jinx was always the first one stripping down, usually too impatient to prolong anything of this sort.

Jinx grabbed a pillow, looking up at you.

"No,"

"No?" You repeat, dumbfounded.

But it clicks as you watch her lay down, settling a pillow behind her head, looking up at you expectantly.

"Jinx- you know I- can't."

Your face was beet red, legs locked together as you took a hesitant step back, within a shimmer induced movement though, she was sat up, grabbing your wrist and tugging you back forward, until she managed to get you on your knees beside her.

"What? Worried I'll suffocate?" Yes, yes you were.

She scoffed, laying back down.

She was serious, and very sure about her decision, she'd never been more sure of something in her life.

But, never the less, here you were, practically dragged onto her awaiting mouth.

You were hunched over, mouth agape and brows furrowed tightly together.

Each little lick, suck, or thrust of her wet muscle had you seeing white, and perhaps a glimpse of heaven itself.

She was experienced, that much of obvious.

"F-fuck!- Jinx..hah~" You mewl, hands lacing through her dishevelled blue locks— her tongue had nuzzled itself comfortably inside you, curling and lapping at your velvety walls like a woman starved.

She had enough space to look up at you as you rode her face, hands gripping at your thighs eagerly, nails scrapping at the freckled skin.

It was hot, or maybe she was hot. either way, the feeling had you in a trembling mess, occasionally lifting your hips to grant her a breath, despite the way your cunt lurched in desperation every time the stimulation would halt.

Before quickly crashing back down on you as she reattached her mouth onto you.

The sensation was deliciously addicting, the wet lather collected between your thighs, coating her chin and god- it was a mess.

yet, neither of you seemed to care; not now, anyway.

Moving her hands upward she slid both them beneath your shirt, and under your bra, cupping and squeezing your large mounds with driven lust, the calloused pads of her thumbs circling your pink nipples, as they pebbled under her fingertips.

Your eyelashes fluttered, head tilting back, you weren't going to last long.

You almost felt like you could cry, not in pain of course, you were far from discomfort. You just didn’t know what to do with yourself, every little nibble on your flesh had you short circuiting.

Your abdomen fluttered and tightened, you could almost feel the subtle exhales mingle over your sensitive clit, the tip of her nose nudging against the small nub as she worked.

"O-oh..~" You almost sob, she giggled over your cunt, sending tiny little tingles up your spine, easing you closer and closer to what you can only assume will be the best orgasm of your life.

Jinx had noticed this, pulling you down as much as she could manage onto her face and eating you out as deep as her tongue could reach, feeling your walls clamp down around the muscle, and eventually that familiar sweet liquid seeped into her mouth— which she swallowed greedily, licking you clean.

It was without a doubt, the best sex you'd had for a while.

And judging by the way Jinx pulled off for a breath, wiping her chin and looking up into your eyes with that clouded want, it wasn't nearly over yet.

still getting used to writing smut, but we'll get there ♡

I loved your idea so come back soon!

- Owl 🌹

[ashthesalamipiece]

"Still With You" — chapter 1: The Breaking Point

(Kiribaku x Fem!Reader — TW: Suicide attempt, self-harm, hospitalization)

---

The dorms were quiet that night.

Too quiet.

The hum of electronics was replaced by an eerie stillness, like the air itself was holding its breath. Bakugou didn’t realize he was pacing until Kirishima grabbed his wrist.

“She’s been gone for a while,” Kirishima said softly, his voice tinged with unease. “Did she say anything to you earlier?”

Bakugou shook his head, his crimson eyes narrowed. “No. Said she was going to shower after training. That was almost two hours ago.”

They both looked at the clock.

1:37 AM.

Kirishima’s heart dropped. He reached for his phone, fingers trembling slightly as he scrolled through her messages. The last one she sent had a heart emoji. A soft, simple “I love you guys. Don’t forget that.”

Bakugou’s chest tightened.

He didn’t wait—he sprinted toward the girls’ wing of the dorms, Kirishima right behind him. Privacy rules didn’t matter now. Something was wrong.

Something was very wrong.

---

The bathroom door was locked.

Bakugou banged on it, shouting her name. No answer.

Kirishima didn’t hesitate—he hardened his arm and smashed through the door.

The world seemed to slow.

She was there. Collapsed on the tile floor. Pale. Shaking. Blood pooled near her wrists. A broken razor lay beside her. An empty bottle of sleeping pills on the sink.

“(Y/N)!” Kirishima dropped to his knees, lifting her limp body carefully. Her pulse was faint—too faint.

Bakugou was already on his phone, dialing Recovery Girl while trying to rip a towel from the rack to stop the bleeding.

“Damn it… damn it… you promised…” he whispered, his voice cracking for the first time in years.

---

The dorm was silent as medics rushed in.

All the other students had woken up by then. Some cried. Some stood frozen. Mina sobbed into Jirou’s shoulder. Midoriya couldn’t stop shaking. Aizawa arrived within minutes, his face set in stone, but his eyes betrayed everything.

“This is her sixth attempt,” he murmured, mostly to himself. “We missed the signs again…”

Bakugou sat beside Kirishima in the common room while the ambulance pulled away. His hands were still stained with her blood.

Kirishima stared at the floor. “She didn’t think we’d care enough.”

Bakugou gritted his teeth. “She’s an idiot. A beautiful, kind, perfect idiot…”

“But she’s our idiot,” Kirishima whispered, tears silently falling down his cheeks.

---

The next morning, Aizawa called them in.

“She’s alive,” he said, to their relief. “But barely. She’s being transferred to a psychiatric care facility—long-term.”

Bakugou nodded slowly. He didn’t argue. “That’s what she needs.”

“Can we see her?” Kirishima asked, voice raw.

Aizawa nodded. “Not right away. But yes. And I’ll make sure the class can send letters, drawings. She needs to remember she’s loved.”

Bakugou finally let himself cry—not loudly, not violently. Just quiet tears.

Because he didn’t know what the hell he would’ve done if they’d been even a minute later.

---

To be continued in Part 2: The Ward

---

"Still With You" — Part 2: The Ward

(Kiribaku x Fem!Reader — TW: Suicide attempt recovery, psychiatric care, emotional healing)

---

The facility wasn’t what they expected.

There were no white padded walls, no straightjackets. Just soft pastel tones, quiet halls, and nurses who moved with practiced gentleness. It was secure, but not prison-like. Still, seeing her there broke both their hearts.

She sat near a window in a chair that looked too big for her. Her hospital gown clung to her small frame, the fabric loose, like she was slowly disappearing inside it. IV lines ran from her hand to a pole beside her chair. Her eyes were empty. Dull. Like the lights inside her had gone out.

Bakugou’s fists clenched by his sides. Kirishima stepped forward first.

“Hey, sunshine…” he said gently, kneeling beside her.

She turned slowly, like she wasn’t sure if they were real. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke.

“…You came?”

“Of course we did,” Kirishima said, offering a small, trembling smile. “We’ll always come.”

She didn’t smile back. She looked down at her bandaged wrists and whispered, “You shouldn’t be here. I don’t deserve it.”

Bakugou walked over and sat across from her, elbows resting on his knees.

“Don’t you ever say that again.”

She didn’t reply.

“You think we don’t care? You think it doesn’t wreck us, every time you disappear into that pain alone?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

“You didn’t hurt us,” Kirishima interrupted softly. “You scared us. And we get it, (Y/N). We know you're hurting. But you never have to face it alone again.”

Her lip trembled. “I don’t even know why I keep waking up…”

Bakugou leaned forward, voice quiet for once. “Then let us give you a reason.”

She looked at them—really looked. And for the first time in weeks, something in her flickered. A fragile ember.

“You’re not a burden,” Kirishima said, reaching for her hand. “You’re our girl. You matter.”

“Always have,” Bakugou muttered. “Always will.”

---

The visits became a weekly ritual.

Kirishima brought snacks and silly magazines. Bakugou read to her when she couldn’t focus. Sometimes they just sat beside her in silence, letting her feel them there. Reminding her she was still loved. Still wanted.

Her classmates sent drawings, letters, small gifts.

Mina sent a friendship bracelet. Denki’s letter was full of jokes and little doodles of her as a superhero. Jirou wrote lyrics to a soft song she’d been working on. Even Todoroki sent a pressed flower with a quiet note: “You still bring warmth. Don't forget that.”

---

One day, she smiled.

It was small, shy. But it was real.

“You guys are still here,” she whispered, looking at them during one visit.

“Damn right,” Bakugou said with a smirk.

Kirishima beamed. “We’re not going anywhere.”

She looked down at her hospital gown, then at the IV in her arm.

“I hate how broken I feel…”

“You’re not broken,” Kirishima said, brushing her hair from her face. “You’re healing.”

Bakugou added, “And healing looks messy sometimes. But that doesn’t make it wrong.”

They sat with her until visiting hours ended, holding her hand until the nurses had to gently ask them to leave.

---

To be continued in Part 3: Recovery Days

---

"Still With You" — Part 3: Recovery Days

(Kiribaku x Fem!Reader — TW: Mental health recovery, emotional trauma, comfort)

---

It had been over a month.

(Y/N) was still in the psychiatric ward, but things were changing—slowly, like winter melting into spring.

She started participating in group therapy, sketching in the art room, and eating full meals again. Her eyes, once clouded with pain, were clearer now—though the sadness never truly left. Not yet.

But she was trying. And that meant something.

---

One afternoon, Bakugou and Kirishima arrived to find her sitting in the garden outside the ward—her first time allowed there alone.

She turned when she saw them and waved. Waved.

Kirishima ran to her and picked her up gently, spinning her once before placing her back down.

“You’re out of the ward!” he beamed. “Look at you, breaking milestones like a pro hero!”

She giggled, and it made Bakugou freeze for a second. He hadn't heard that sound in what felt like years.

“You’re still idiots,” she said, smiling softly.

“Maybe,” Bakugou muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “But we’re your idiots.”

---

They sat in the grass with her, under the afternoon sun. It felt normal, almost like the world had forgotten for a second how close she came to vanishing.

“Do you hate me for what I did?” she asked, her voice barely audible over the breeze.

“No,” Kirishima said instantly, shaking his head. “Never.”

Bakugou stared at her for a moment. “You were in pain. You thought you had no way out. But you were wrong. You have us.”

“I wanted to stop the hurt,” she admitted. “It was like drowning. I couldn’t breathe.”

“You don’t have to explain,” Kirishima said gently. “But if you ever do feel like drowning again—we’ll jump in with you.”

She laughed, tearfully. “That’s not a great safety plan.”

Bakugou smirked. “Then we’ll just carry you until you can swim again.”

---

That night, they helped her braid her hair before bed. It was the most mundane, simple thing—but it grounded her.

“I don’t deserve you guys,” she whispered.

Kirishima leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Stop saying that.”

Bakugou wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind. “You do. You always did.”

She closed her eyes and breathed in their warmth. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid of waking up tomorrow.

Because she knew they’d still be there.

---

To be continued in Part 4: Coming Home

---

"Still With You" — Part 4: Coming Home

(Kiribaku x Fem!Reader — TW: mental health recovery, emotional vulnerability, support system)

---

The day she returned to U.A. felt unreal.

She stood just outside the dorm gates, clutching the straps of her backpack like a lifeline. The air smelled like sun-warmed pavement and cherry blossoms. Students milled about on the paths ahead, but all she could hear was her heartbeat.

Bakugou stepped beside her and gently bumped her shoulder. “Breathe.”

On her other side, Kirishima grinned, though his eyes glimmered with emotion. “We’ve got you, alright? One step at a time.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to be,” Bakugou said. “You just have to be here.”

That was enough.

---

The doors to the dorm common room swung open.

And Class 1-A exploded.

“(Y/N)!!!” Mina squealed, nearly tackling her in a hug. “You’re back!”

“I—I made cupcakes!” Sero shouted, holding up a pink frosted tray. “They're probably edible!”

“We missed you so much,” Iida said, adjusting his glasses with shaking hands.

Even Todoroki stepped forward and offered her a quiet nod. “Welcome home.”

She stood frozen, eyes wide, overwhelmed.

Then Yaoyorozu stepped in and wrapped her in a soft, careful hug. “We’ve been waiting for you, every day.”

Tears spilled from her eyes before she could stop them.

They didn’t flinch away.

They held her.

---

Later that night, after the excitement settled and she sat curled up on the couch between Bakugou and Kirishima, she looked around the room—at her friends playing games, studying, laughing.

For so long she’d believed she didn’t belong here.

That she was a burden. A crack in the perfect system.

But now, sitting between the two people who refused to give up on her, surrounded by classmates who had waited with open arms and full hearts, she finally understood—

She mattered.

Not because she was strong.

But because she was herself. And that was enough.

---

Bakugou pressed a kiss to her hair. “You’re safe.”

Kirishima smiled and squeezed her hand. “And we’re proud of you. Every single day.”

She smiled softly.

“I’m proud of me, too.”

[eph3merall]

I JUST FOUND YOU BUT PLEASE PLEASE ANOTHER STALKER!MATT FIC (for ideas maybe while she’s on facetime with him hes.. yaknow and his camera is on which is more riskier, or another idea is she posted a photo on instagram or something thats a little more on the 18+ side and he… yaknow)

i got u 🙂↕️ piggybacked off an idea kinda ????? been meanin to visit stalker!matt i miss him :( this is sooooo late as well im so so so sorry !!! not proofread i cant STAND rereading things i write

18+ content, suggestive, stalker!matt . dont read if this isnt your cup of tea :)

—

matt has a habit of knowing where you are and who you're with at all times. well, most times. sometimes he messed up, a mistake on his part. sure, your sweet, little self is his best friend, and it is wrong for him to do the things he does and think the things he conjures up in his head. but it's so hard not to want to blow your back out or tug at your hair with his dick in your mouth when you just look so pretty on your new instagram photo dump.

matt knows where these photos are taken—you and your little group of friends having gone on a trip by yourselves and driving around cute places. the beach, a flower field, museums, art galleries, you name it. multiple photos of you and various girlfriends posing or sipping drinks, until matt sees some selfies of you guys at a bar.

'what the fuck?' are the words that spew from his mouth when theres suddenly a video playing of you guys downing shots and giggling. the music is loud and the crowd in the video is boisterous and looks most likely high and or drunk. the video is a fairly short one, but he doesn't miss the way a guy is snaking his hands around your waist as you turn and grin at him so prettily.

matt's thumb swipes immediately, not wanting to stare at that sight anymore. he doesn't realize the way his fingers grip his phone a little tighter, blinking at the last image in your new little photo dump.

the dress clinging to your figure was anything but modest, paired with the way you looked with your friend. the shot was a little blurry, the cameraman was probably drunk or something. your friend stood to your right, leaning towards the camera with her upper body. a shocked expression lay on her face, one hand covering her mouth while the other splayed on top of her thigh. her eyes diverted away from the camera.

you, on the other hand, have your ass almost directly facing the camera. wide googly eyes stare at the matt through his screen over your shoulder, your shoulders hunched and hair a pretty mess. the hem of the dress you wore rode up and gave him just a little peek of your ass, and god—his dick strained uncomfortably in his jeans. the way you looked so innocent yet so enticing, knowing nothing is by far innocent in the photo.

the caption of the dump was titled 'with my girls <33', and upon opening the comments there were immediately your friends' usernames hyping you up. specifically the last photo. matt scoffed under his breath at how you responded with your little emojis and what-not. the lingering thought of the guy who briefly showed up in the dump was still in his head, to which he stashed in the back of his brain. because matt will find out who that was.

but first, he can't miss the way his dick twitches ever so slightly in the confines of his jeans and belt.

soon enough, he has his belt strewn haphazardly on the floor of his room and his pants pool at his ankles. tongue prodding his cheek, chest heaving with a heavy exhale as his hand thumbs at his tip. a hiss leaves his mouth and he's spreading the pre that's leaking from his slit down the length of his dick.

his free hand fumbles for his phone that sits on the edge of his desk, swiping to that god forsaken photo that gives him a peek of your ass. a grumbled whine rips from his throat and his hand wraps around his length—starting to pump slowly as his eyes scan over each and every single feature of your body and face in the picture.

matt's fingers grip his phone tighter and your name is falling from his lips in whiny breaths and huffs, the occasional curse getting muttered under his breath. the pace of his fist increases and soon enough he's getting himself off to not only the photo of you—but the scenarios he keeps caged up in his head.

your face stuffed in a pillow with your ass up, his palm splaying across the cheek as his dick rams into you. drool bubbling at the corners of your mouth as he holds your head down on his cock, nose pressing into his pelvis as he feels your gag reflex kick in. your body laid all perfectly on his bed, thighs spread and squirming. his tongue poking at your entrance and his hands gripping the flesh of your hips and thighs, holding down harshly to make sure you don't thrash around so much.

matt doesn't realize he's busting until his balls tighten and your name is chanted over and over again in a whiny breath, like a prayer. his fist slows and his chest heaves up and down with each heavy gasp of air, eyes gazing at the photo on his phone and lingering for a little while.

—

goodnight i havent had motivation to do anything recently how are u all i love you guys !!!! if u sent in a req i will get to that just itll be very very slow .....

©eph3merall 2024

[tkomptgoedluv]

icantbelieveiletyougetaway.

pt.1 | pt.2 here | pt.3 here | pt.4 here

joost klein x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, they’re so in love with each other it hurts but can’t admit it, joost just wants to be her everything, angst, hurt, comfort, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 4,157.

warnings: very brief allusion to drugging, heavy and frequent references to SA, violence, vague mentions of non-specific mental illness, rpf.

notes: in my head this takes place in 2021-2022 when joost had that really short, almost buzzcut like hair? like the wachtmuziek era. also, very sorry this is late!! it’s still only been half-proofread and i’m not even sure i like how i wrote the ending but here she is anyway. i love her and i hope you do too 💋.

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

with shaking hands, you fumbled around the bathroom floor to find your phone. your chest was heaving, the cries that you struggled to keep quiet were getting all caught up in your throat as you fought meekly through the nausea. you wiped at your face again, desperate to clear your vision and leaving behind a mixture of tears, snot, and smeared mascara on the back of your hand.

the room itself was dark, barely lit up by a singular dim, yellow light, though despite the shadows you could still see how everything was spinning. you couldn’t remember how many drinks you’d had — it hadn’t felt like a lot, you weren’t a lightweight by any means but you didn’t know how else to explain the state you were in. you couldn’t stand up even if you wanted to, your legs strangely numb to the touch and the pounding in your head made staying on the floor all the more appealing anyway.

face down on the grimey, tiled floor you found your phone laying just underneath the sink. you ignored the low battery warning as you swiped through your contacts, squinting through your tears at the screen as if it would actually help you see any better. you were only looking out for one name; the third out of the four that were listed under the letter ‘J’, and the only name to have an emoji next to it.

over the sound of the heavy, techno bass that seemed to shake the walls and the buzz of a hundred different people all talking amongst each other, you heard the line start to dial. it didn’t make sense to call him out of everyone else that could possibly help you; he was infamously known for never picking up the phone. it was ironic for someone so notoriously attached to their screens, his face typically glued to either his phone or his ipad.

but still, you hadn’t so much as thought twice about it as you clicked on his contact and then the call button. With your head tilted back against the wall and your knees curled up tightly against your chest, you prayed to any god listening that by some miracle, he wouldn’t be busy.

“hallo?”

you let out a whimper at the mere sound of his voice, a small, pathetic noise that quickly turned into a cry that you didn’t bother to stifle. he called out your name for a second time, though now in a tone that was much softer than the one before it.

“i’m sorry, i know it’s late.” you paused to take a breath, your voice having cracked like glass as you spoke. “but i need your help. i don’t…joost, i don’t know what to do.”

“it’s okay, just take a big breath for me.” for just a moment you heard shuffling around on the other end of the line. with each of his footsteps the background noise grew quieter until it disappeared completely, following the sound of a door being shut. “where are you?”

“i’m at…i’m at this house but i uh, i really don’t wanna be here anymore. do you think you could…can you just come get me, please? i’m sorry.”

over the sound of a drum and bass beat that played so obnoxiously loud, you struggled to catch all the whispers from joost’s side of the phone call. there was another voice there, that much you could hear, and you struggled to place it despite how familiar it sounded. you tried to concentrate on the faint muttering, straining your ears to hear it over the song that blared just below you.

but then you jumped when the banging started. a sudden flurry of fists pounding against the wood and making the bathroom door rattle within its hinges. from the deep laughs that followed, chances were it was just a group of guys trying to be funny, probably thinking it was one of their friends getting lucky on the other side. and yet still, you found yourself gasping for breath as you choked back fresh tears, all the blood that ran through your veins turning cold.

“schatje? did you hear me?”

you could only hum back in response.

“i said i need you to send me your location, okay? and then i’ll come get you, i promise.”

it was the moment you figured out how to do so that your phone finally gave up on you. after hitting send, the little map displaying your whereabouts popping up in yours and joost’s text chain, your screen began to freeze. in a moment of panic you managed to choke out that you were locked away in a bathroom before it all went black, leaving you to stare at the taunting dead battery symbol.

you weren’t oblivious to the irony of it all. in a house crammed full of people, perhaps even a few too many than it was built to hold, you felt alone. just a few minutes ago that was all you wanted, to be by yourself, but now it left you with a ringing in your ears. the absence of joost’s voice was enough to throw you inside what felt like a black hole, where time seemed to slow the longer you waited for him.

you found a brief comfort in watching the time pass on the old, analog clock that hung high on the wall opposite you; you figured it was a better thing to focus on besides the sharp ache between your legs. it helped keep you distracted from the way everything just hurt now, whatever it was that was in your system already starting to wear off. without it numbing you to the pain of it all, you could feel the headache brewing behind your eyes and the sting of your split lip.

with each minute that dragged by, the slow, high-pitched tick of the clock echoing inside your ears, your mind began to slip further and further away. every time that you closed your eyes you could see it happening all over again; you could feel his hands back on you, ripping at your clothes and bruising your skin.

all the tears that you had only just managed to blink away came rushing back, continuing to decorate your face with more long, dark streaks of black. surely, this was going to be the thing to finally break you. there would never be any redemption or recovery for you — he’d get to live the rest of his life without burden whilst this was bound to be the death of you.

the more you unravelled, the more erratic your cries grew with hiccups racking your body and a deep burning in your eyes. for once you found yourself grateful for the music’s mind-numbing volume, though somehow it still wasn’t enough to mask the sound of a soft tapping against the bathroom door. like a coward you froze, failing to answer back before you heard your own name being yelled out to you, followed by a harsher knock.

“hey it’s me, it’s joost. can you open the door please?”

as you steadily climbed to your feet, using the edge of the sink to help push you up, your knees began to shake. they threatened to buckle out from under you with every step that you took, each limp towards the door sending a short stabbing pain up to your abdomen. the sensation made you wince, your jaw clenched and a grip on the door handle so strong that it turned your knuckles white.

it was almost sardonic how despite being in a house so loud, everything went quiet as soon as that door swung open. the music never stopped nor did anyone dare to change its volume, but all joost could hear was his own heartbeat thumping in his ears as his eyes met yours. all he could do was swallow, pushing down the bile that was quickly rising up his throat.

even in the low, warm light of the bathroom, he could see the streaked mascara that painted your face and the bloodied lip that was still trickling down your chin. your favourite shirt, the one that he himself had bought you, was torn and just about hanging off your shoulders. it exposed a trail of black and blue spots that started along your shoulder and went all the way down your arms, a couple even dotted down your legs.

joost uttered your name, his voice barely audible over the music downstairs. the corners of your frown twitched, your bottom lip quivering as you shook your head, already answering the question he hadn’t even asked yet. from where you stood he could see you shaking, your knees weak and barely holding you up right. he didn’t hesitate to pull you into him, an arm locking around your waist as his hand found the back of your head, keeping you hidden in his chest.

“jesus christ, what happened to you?”

you couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the right words to even try and explain what it was you had gone through. you could only weep into the fabric of joost’s jacket, so exhausted and overwhelmed that you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself together in front of him. but it was more than enough of an answer for joost who just held you tighter the harder you cried, fighting back tears of his own.

pulling away as gently as he could, joost still kept you in his grasp. his hands cupped either side of your jaw, calloused thumbs wiping away stray-fallen tears as his eyes danced over your face. with a gaze so intense, you could see his eyes growing sadder the longer he looked you over in the dull light of the bathroom.

“i left stunts outside — he’s still in the car. we could…we should go to the hospital.”

“no!” your own dramatic change in tone caught even you off guard. you couldn’t help it, you were panicking now, pulling joost back by his sleeve as he tried to guide you out of the bathroom. the action made you wobble and almost trip over your own feet, flinching at the sudden cramp you felt deep in your stomach. joost’s grip on you hardened, not nearly enough to hurt but enough to keep you from falling back and hitting your head on the sink. “not tonight. please, i just wanna go home. i’ll be fine.”

“you can barely fucking stand, schatje. you need help.”

“then i promise i’ll go in the morning! but right now i just really need you to take me home, okay? i’m begging you.”

perhaps if joost had a little bit more of a backbone and wasn’t so hopelessly head over fucking heels for you, he would’ve had the courage to say no. he would have been able to look you in the eye and still say that he was going to get you to a doctor, whether you wanted to go or not. but no matter how much he wanted to, how much he hated what you were asking of him, he couldn’t. feeling you trembling in his hands and hearing the fear that shook your voice meant there was no longer a single thing that joost wouldn’t do for you.

you were his best friend just as much as he was yours, regardless of all the very non-platonic things the two of you had done together over the years. as far as you were concerned it was just something that you’d do sometimes, only ever as friends. there were never any conversations about it the next morning, never any acknowledgment for what it was you had done the night before; it was almost like it never happened until it would undoubtedly happen again. you always liked it like that though — as long as it meant that you never had to think about how you really felt.

joost, on the other hand, was painfully aware of what he felt about your situation, about you. it was never just sex for him, not even once, and he wanted to talk about it. and he tried to, a couple of times, spending the first few mornings after trying to coax you back into bed just so he could hold you skin-to-skin for a little while longer. but you never wanted to stay and you never wanted to talk about it, either, so joost stopped. he let it become another pain he had to live with and spent each day telling himself that he was okay with that.

it was with only a slight hesitation that he nodded before standing back up straight, slipping his big black jacket off his arms and draping the material gently over your shoulders.

you let joost take on most of your weight as you leaned into his side, letting him guide you back through the house as you focused on just trying to make it down the stairs without tripping. to say that the place was packed was an understatement. people were crammed into every room like sardines, dancing and grinding against each other with stiff, swinging jaws. you hadn’t even heard what it was that had been said over the music, its volume still just as loud and disorienting as it had been when you first arrived.

but joost had heard every word, somehow, despite the sound of his own song polluting the room. it made him freeze on the spot, pulling you to a stop right along with him as he slowly turned to face the group of guys that were standing just in front of the front door. you felt your throat start to close at the sight of him amongst them, standing front and centre with a sick grin plastered across his face, his eyes darting between you and joost.

“what did you just say?”

it might have been the gruff, nauseating voice that you recognised, or maybe it was those ring-heavy hands of his that you could still feel pressed into your skin. you didn’t know, and it didn’t matter, because you knew it was him.

“i said good luck with that one, dude. she doesn’t go down easy; kept trying to fight me the whole time.” his stare then fell from joost onto you, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. “but we still had our fun though, didn’t we schat?”

the crack of joost’s knuckles colliding with his jaw was something you heard before you saw it; the thud of him hitting the ground following soon after. a chorus of screams and cheers rang painfully in your ears as you watched a small circle quickly form around you. anyone that could still see straight had either ran from the fight or pushed forward to get a better view of it, their phones held high and already recording.

“bet that made you feel like a man, huh? forcing yourself on a girl half your size. you piece of fucking shit, i should fucking kill you!”

in all the years you’d known him, you had never seen joost like that before; his voice low and angry as his shouts drowned out the music. he hadn’t waited for him to get back up before throwing another punch, the sharp crunch of his noise breaking making you wince and your eyes water.

you went to step forward, your hands already reaching out to grab joost’s arm when one of his friends pounced. a shriek was ripped out from you when a fist struck joost right across the cheek, knocking him into you hard enough to almost send you both tumbling to the floor. any chance for you to try and intervene again vanished when you were pushed back before you could get close enough, joost quickly shoving you behind him as he swung for the other guy.

a strong pair of arms wrapped your middle and pulled you further back as you cried for them all to stop, keeping you locked against their chest no matter how hard you thrashed. distance was put between you and the fight when you were picked up and half-dragged out the door, joost’s blond hair disappearing from sight amongst the growing crowd around him.

the bitter air of the early morning stole your breath, your chest tight and aching as the cold consumed you. small flakes of snow drifted down from the paleing sky, dusting each rooftop and the old, cracked pavements in a thin layer of white. still, there were a handful of people gathered on the house’s front stairs, clad in various leather and latex, that only stood and watched as you were hauled away from the party.

“get the fuck off me! we’ve gotta go back, we can’t just leave him! stuntje, please!”

your feet only met the floor again once you were next to stunt’s car, safely across the street. even from there, you could hear the childish chanting of ‘fight! fight! fight!’ and the occasional glass break from inside.

“martijn -”

“- stay here; i’m gonna go get him.”

you weren’t allowed to argue, so you just did what you were told. for four minutes you sat waiting in the back of the car with the heaters on full blast and still shivering as you nestled yourself deeper into joost’s jacket. after another minute you saw them heading back your way, their pace fast as they slipped past the last few people that loitered on the steps. in the glow of the streetlights you could just about make out the soft shade of purple that was joost’s eye, and the deep scowl that contorted stuntje’s face.

neither of them spoke as they joined you in the car but for joost, you never really gave him the chance to. his seatbelt hadn’t even clicked into place yet before you were turning away from him, desperate to pretend that he wasn’t there burning holes into the side of your head. if joost knew that you could see him staring from the corner of your eye, he didn’t care. if anything, he probably would’ve hoped that it might have made you look back at him, because then that at least would’ve been something.

but seeing joost storm out of that house with a violet eye and raw knuckles, having just risked everything for you without a second thought, it scared you more than you wanted to admit. he was only supposed to come find you, and bring you back home. you never wanted a fight, never wanted joost to wind up with a black eye over you. so no, you couldn’t look at him — couldn’t even talk to him, either.

except your silent treatment didn't last very long, did it? it couldn’t, because joost wasn’t going to let you get away with it this time. for as long as he had known you, you always had this habit of internalising what you felt and shutting down. it never mattered what it was you were going through, you just wouldn’t talk about it.

this time though, he wasn’t going to let you disappear in on yourself again, and he wasn’t going to let you shut him out, either.

as soon as the car came to a stop, joost was up and already outside your car door. with a sweet smile, gentle hands were pulling you up and slowly helping you onto your feet before you had the chance to protest. there was a part of you that wanted to, now too proud to admit that you still needed his help. already, he had done more than enough, even too much, for you.

still, you didn’t dare to fight it — or him, rather. besides a small goodbye to stuntje, no words were spoken as he slipped an arm under your knees and pulled you up to his chest. it was like that, that he carried you up the three flights of stairs of your building, glancing down at you every so often with soft, worried eyes. it was miraculous how he managed to open your front door with you still in his arms, his very own key to your home dangling from the clip on his jeans.

it wasn’t long before the soft leather of your sofa was dipping underneath your weight, its cushion beneath you feeling cold against the bruised flesh of your thighs. joost left you for only a second, just to switch on a couple of the lamps you had dotted around and to dig out your old first aid kit from the bathroom.

you still weren’t really looking at him, not even as he perched on the edge of your coffee table and carefully took your jaw in his hold. the brush of the alcohol wipes along the small cuts that marked your face stung and made you wince, your nose scrunching up at the pain. a string of quiet apologies followed as joost concentrated on cleaning you up, wiping away each and every smear of blood and smudged makeup.

the longer that you sat there whilst joost devoted all of his time and energy to you, the more teary-eyed you felt yourself becoming again. it felt almost…foreign to feel so loved after everything, like you were still somehow worth saving. there was no way that you could possibly deserve it — nothing you could’ve done to deserve having someone adore you so unconditionally without earning it.

and yet here he was, your joost, doing anything and everything to try and help, and you couldn’t even fucking look at him.

the only thing you could do was cry. the way you clutched your mouth did little to muffle the sounds of your distress and it drew back his attention after he turned away only to throw out all of the dirty, used wipes. it was the guilt that was doing this to you, the guilt of knowing that you were the reason why joost now had a black eye. that joost had risked his whole career by starting that fight, and you had been the one to punish him for it.

a warm hand squeezed your knee as another tucked fallen strands of hair behind your ear. it took a few tries of quietly calling out your name to finally get you to meet his eyes, but eventually you got there. nothing could have prepared you for just how sick he looked, the bags under his eyes seeming considerably darker than before and a deep frown tugging at the corners of his lips.

“i’m sorry i did this. i never should’ve gone with him, i know i shouldn’t have because i know that i know better but i still went and i should’ve done something more, i could’ve hit him harder or yelled, and i’m sorry i called you because your eye, that was me, that was my fault and i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i -”

with your face pressed flat against his chest, his sudden embrace almost swallowing you whole, you couldn’t find the rest of your slurred, blubbering words. somehow, at some point, joost manoeuvred you both onto the sofa and with his arms around you, kept you curled up against his side. a few fingers moved up the back of your neck to scratch your scalp as others held onto your hip.

it was the only thing he could think to do to shut you up, to calm you down enough to take big, slow breaths, in and out.

he didn’t have it in him to let you finish that sentence.

delicate reassurances were mumbled into your hair, quiet ‘you’re okay’’s and faint ‘it wasn’t your fault’’s becoming mantras that helped soothe the pain in your chest. you wanted to believe him and knew that you didn’t. you knew that as the deep baritone of his whispers slowly lulled you to sleep, you’d wake up with that pain still very much there.

but joost wasn’t going to stop trying anytime soon, noor was he going anywhere. it was one of the few things you’d actually let him do for you, making himself a home on your sofa whenever you would have one of your episodes. he’d sleep there, eat there, work there. sometimes joost would spend entire weeks of his life in your living room just so that he could know for sure you were still alive and breathing.

he was the only thing offering you the slightest bit of comfort. you could feel his fingers running through your hair as you curled up even further into his side, his voice still low in your ear. it was becoming a struggle just to keep your eyes open, but you knew that he wouldn’t mind.

you could fall asleep just to wake up with that same ache in your heart still there, but joost would still be there too. for now, that was all you needed.