#making it sound like they don't need to do sports or anything either

[starsmuserainbow]

I really need to be physically active in some form. I absolutely, zero, don't wanna, but I very much should try to stop things from getting worse in regards to my body.

Thus, I'm once again making the plan to do physical things, yet I at least 99% surely know that it's gonna go the same as always - I'll stick with it for a little bit, be very unsatisfied with the exhaustion and the no-result (or no visible one at least), and give up. Probably within days, maximum weeks. Ugh.

[featherymainffins]

Binge-reading Dungeon Meshi because it's the only thing standing between me and suicide ngl.

[oreoluvskento]

gojo being dangerously loud

a/n: i know this is supposed to be a nanami focused account but hear me out... whiny gojo. that's it.

cw: cunnilingus, riding, ummm gojo being drunk and loud and his baby girl moans, semi-public sex (they're in a bathroom), i am so horny and i just need him so bad

you love the sounds your boyfriend makes during sex. he's never been shameful about it either, always loud and proud about the way your pussy makes him feel. this time, however, you wish he'd shut up.

you two are currently in your friends bathroom during a drunk movie night. you were both pretty tipsy, gojo more drunk than you and you were having a great time. all of a sudden, he doubled over, making it obvious to everyone that there was something wrong and he needed a bathroom fast.

except, when you follow him in and he locks the door behind you, there is nothing wrong with him at all, besides the raging boner he was currently sporting. your eyes widened when you saw it, but the casamigos in your bloodstream was stopping you from thinking clearly and the next thing you knew, you were getting eaten out on your friends bathroom floor.

"'toru, fuck, i'm close!" you whisper, holding his head harder and he speeds up, his tongue flicking your clit constantly as his two middle fingers are going to work. when you cum, you cover your mouth with your hand as your back arches off the floor and gojo doesn't pull away. you have to manually drag him away from you and he immediately goes for your lips, making your mouth just as messy as his own.

as the two of you kiss, he sits up and pulls you against his body sitting against the bathtub. you make quick work of his pants and without wasting any time you lower yourself on him. the last thing you expected was for him to throw his head back and let out one of the sluttiest moans you had ever heard. "ahhh fuckkk!"

you quickly slap your hand against his mouth and pray to god that no one heard that. he lifts his head and looks at you with furrowed eyebrows and low eyes, whimpering quietly against your hand at your pussy pulsing around him. "satoru, you've got to be quiet, baby, okay?" you ask and he nods, his cheeks red.

you finally lift your hips and before you could even go back down, a deep groan comes from his throat and you stop again. he gets impatient and pulls you down himself, dropping his forehead against yours as he moves you faster.

"mmph feels too good, can't stop," he says breathlessly against your palm, and you have to drop your head on his shoulder at the speed he was going. he truly was trying his best, but as the two of you went on, his whines got louder and louder until they were hoarse moans.

"im close, im close, please, please, please!" he cries against your skin and you take over, pressing your lips against his in the process. he moans into the kiss, his body going weak when you trade the fast movement for slow, deeper movements.

"you like it, 'toru?" you ask, your lips moving against his. he nods quickly, tears beginning to form in his eyes at the sensitivity of his dick but you don't stop.

"baby please- haaa fuckkk!" he begs squeezing your hips and you shake your head.

"promise me you'll be quiet when you cum," you instruct and he nods furiously, just wanting to feel his orgasm. you take his word for it, partly because you were ready to cum too, but you cover his mouth for safe measures.

you go faster now, grinding your hips down on his, and almost as soon as you start, you feel him start to shake and thrust into you himself. "ah, ah ahhhh fuck, fuck, fuck, cummingggg!"

before you could say anything, he holds you down, his head buried in your neck as he moans in your ear and your orgasm hits as well, spurring him on. "ohh shitshitshit too much too much fuuuck!" he cries, holding your body against his as you ride your orgasm out. right when you finish, you hear a knock on the door and your friend's concerned voice.

"hey, is he okay in there, do you guys need help?" her voice rings out and your eyes widen.

"yeah, he's okay, just drank a bit too much!" you shout back and turn back to look at your boyfriend. "cough," you instruct and he does just that. you reach to the side and flush the toilet and pretend to pat his back. "that's okay, get it all out."

"okay, there's some water in the kitchen for him when he's done," she says and leaves. you let out a sigh of relief and drop your head on a slightly sobered up gojo's chest.

"my bad," he whispers and you roll your eyes as you stand up.

"shut up."

[aphelion-alifer]

relieving wing related dysphoria

something that I see many winged folks experience, including myself, is wing related dysphoria. more specifically, dysphoria relating to not being able to fly or not having wings physically. all my life this is a struggle I've dealt with, and I understand how painful it is. there are ways to relieve it though! here's some things that I've come up with and suggest to those who are struggling:

create mood boards, wallpapers, stim boards, and pinterest boards relating to the sky, your wings, theriotype, shifted form, etc

dive into media that has winged people/creatures (maximum ride, the maleficent movies, the croaking, just to name a few)

play games that let you fly, either with or without wings. bonus points if you're able to do it in VR (roblox, minecraft, feralheart, aer memories of old, superflight, fugl, etc)

practice lucid dreaming or astral projection

blankets!! especially weighted blankets, this can mimic the feeling of having wings

create or buy cosplay wings that look like your own (either typical cosplay wings worn with a harness/straps, or a backpack with wings, or a shawl in the shape of wings)

wear the colors of your wings, theriotype or shifted form

surround yourself with wing related themes or themes related to your theriotype or shifted form (buttons, pins, stickers, doodles, plushies, etc)

wear wing related accessories (rings, necklaces, hair pins, wings you can put on the laces of your shoes, etc)

if you're able to, get wings tattooed on your back or get a tattoo related to your theriotype or shifted form

if you're able to, participate in sky/air related sports or activities (skydiving, wingsuit flying, paragliding, hang gliding, etc)

draw/doodle your wings, theriotype or shifted form!!

meditate and visualize your wings. feel their weight, see their colors and textures, etc.

connect and talk to others who have wings if you need support and are looking for folks who have had similar experiences

carry around a backpack and make sure to give it some weight! having a backpack of a similar weight to my phantom wings tends to make my phantom wings go away, if you're looking to stop your phantom wings from existing for a bit for any reason

collect feathers that look like yours if you have feathered wings

connect with nature! this helps ground me and feel more connected to my natural self. I suggest going outside on a windy day or climbing trees.

stick your head/arms out of the car when you're going somewhere! this is one of my favorite things to do and it mimics what I imagine flying to feel like (pro tip, don't do this if you're driving)

make your room feel like the environment you belong in (using nature or wind ambient sounds, fans to get air flowing, that sort of thing)

watch flying POV videos

I'm sure there are more things that I could add, but I think that this is all my brain can think of at the moment. feel free to add onto the list if there's anything else that any of you want to add if I missed anything!

[theycalledhimastar]

Thinking of Johnny, but not about how sweet or handsome he is, but all the weird shit he does. Because humanizing these guys gives me life.

☄. *.

I know for a fact that Johnny smells like Old Spice. And not the normal amount, either. Like he uses far too much, and he uses every single product they have. Shampoo, Body wash, deodorant, if they had toothpaste, he would use it. Johnny feels like the type of person to use far too many scents at once, whether it's the same or they clash, doesn't matter because it's an assault on the nose and he never seems to notice.

"Don't I smell fresh? Why ye actin' so put off?" Because you literally smell like the bodywash section of a beauty store, love. That's why.

I *also* know that this man yells, like a lot. Not even when he's upset, he's actually quiet when he is upset. But when he's excited about something, anything, he just... forgets entirely that some people have ears and aren't half bloody deaf from listening to music far too loud. Sport nights are horrible, he sounds as loud as a group of five all on his own.

He has weird ass feet too, take that as you will, his feet are just... weird. I can't describe it, you literally have a rule that he has to wear socks around the house to keep from cringing when he has the dogs out. (idk, I just feel this in my soul)

Moves around constantly, like man will not sit down for more than five minutes, not even to cuddle, he just gets handsy and uses you as a fidget toy. Not in a sexy way either, he will like squeeze the fat of your stomach or thighs like a stress ball. If you tell him to stop, he'll just kind of whine that he needs something for his hands to do.

Will wear the same tee for like, three days in a row if he thinks it isn't too dirty or smelly. Bro is a sniff test connoisseur and it'd be impressive if it wasn't a little weird. Man walks around in the same three outfits and while he looks good in anything, you... aren't really sure how to feel about his odd laundry habits. (And you really really hope that shirts are the only thing he reuses like that.)

(I dunno why I decided to make this, but I thought I was funny lol)

[just-another-author-i-guess]

so like, I don't know the extent of what you write, but if you're ok with it, smutty/spicy head canons for Marshall x Reader? or, alternatively, if you don't write that stuff, first date HC? 💛

Anything for you <3 I’ve been wanting to make a smut for him for soooo long so dw about it

Tags: fem! Reader, smut, obviously, blood, general vampire stuff?, semi-public sex, also they do it unprotected, don’t do that irl pls, Marshall has a big dick 😊✋, this is not nearly as bad as my Judd smuts dw, I wanted to write minors dni but who am I kidding they’re gonna read this anyways 🧍🏻

Summary: idk, porn?

Author’s note: I have returned! Ngl I’ve been thinking of this request for so long, I was so giddy to write it lol 🤭🤭 I hope it’s okay, I feel like I need to work more with Marshall as a character lol but nonetheless I really enjoyed writing this. Eat up, children!

Marshall smut headcannons

Word count; 2,6K

Smut under the cut!

He is SUCH a tease, omg 

Will tease you for hours, days if he’s in the right mood for it 

(which is most of the time, because he’s a little shit) 

He will act so coy about it as well; getting you to the brim of an orgasm MULTIPLE times or touching you in a way that he knows will turn you on and then just,,, get up and leave 

Oh, just a moment ago he was grinding you on his thigh and whispering the lewdest of lewd things into your ear? Too bad, now he’s up and going to get ice cream from the mart 

He loves to tease you in public too, more than anything in fact 

You’re drinking tea with Prince Gumball? Marshall got bored and thought it was funny to shove his hand under your skirt and into your panties, only to loudly point out how flustered you are 

Would go; “Oh, jeez. Y/n you don’t look so fresh, you okay there, babe?” 

If his cold fingers gently rubbing your clit didn’t feel so damn good, you’d definitely have kicked him 

Instead, though, you clasp a hand over your mouth and nod vigorously 

“Y-yes! Marshall, I’m just fine. Thanks,” You’d grit out, but the rest of your audience would find it hard to believe 

Gumball, bless the man, would insist you lay down for a while and grant you a guest room in the castle 

Bingo. Marshall’s plan fell through exactly how he wanted it to 

The Prince would quickly find out you’re fine, though, when the both of you return like 20 minutes later with mussed hair and you sporting a few bite marks that definitely weren’t present before 

Gumball would scold Marshall more than you, calling him something along the lines of “a hungry wild beast” while just telling you he thought you were better at controlling your urges lmfao 

Marshall is definitely quite the exhibitionist, however 

The two of you have fucked everywhere, all places in Aaa you could think off 

Unfortunately for Gumball, that means his castle has been subject to this quite a lot since he’s got A TON of secret rooms 

Marshall is more respectful at Fionna and Cake’s house though, he only convinced you to do it so much at the Candy Kingdom because he likes pissing Gumball off 

But on the topic of Marshall’s exhibitionism, he really likes getting you to be loud too 

It’s almost like he wants to be caught 😀✋

He’ll drag you around a corner or to the bathroom of a dingy bar or something and make you scream louder than you ever have in your life 

This is not so much a problem in the Nightosphere (yes, you have fucked there too) because I imagine there’s a lot of screaming sounds going on there anyways 

And either way, no one would dare disturb their Prince in his,, private activities 

He’d also really like to drink your blood while fucking 

Usually, he barely asks for it, only if he’s very sick or wounded because otherwise he just drinks the color of red 

But when he’s buried inside you and your nails are scratching up his back, he feels just that tad bit more animalistic 

Sometimes he won’t even ask ): 

Only because he knows you know he would never genuinely hurt you 

But if he’s already kissing and lapping at your neck, it’s soooo hard not to go that extra mile and sink his teeth in 

And your blood is heavenly to him 

Much better than drinking colours all the time fr

Ngl, your period would be love making season for him 

Sometimes, just the faintest smell of your blood is enough to get him sporting a boner 

But when it’s coming from you so steadily and from a place he already loves burying his face and nose in? Man’s a goner 

Please just,,, let him eat you out 🙏

He doesn’t even understand how you could find it gross, when it’s literally free blood he can drink from you without puncturing your skin 

He also LOVES making you cum, and get that taste of your blood mixed with cum.. mmm delicious 🤭🤭

Honestly, he kinda acts like he’s in heat on the week of your period 

But yk, orgasms makes the cramps go away, or so they say 

So take it like a champ lol 

He’ll fuck you in his bed, mostly 

His couch is kinda stuffy and hard bc he never uses it, only you and sometimes your friends when they come over does 

His bed is also nice and large, very good for violent vampire sex 

But let me present to you, an even better option; his bed in the Nightosphere 

Idc his mom tries ok, and has a bedroom set up for him there 

And it’s decorated very posh and such, but the bed is even better for a good round of fucking 

No okay but he rarely takes you there because when he does his mom is bugging the two of you for grandkids so hard— 

I’m honestly not sure if it’s even physically possible, but hey, his mom just wants a cute little grand baby 🫶🫶

Anyways 

As I stated before, Marshall is a man who thoroughly enjoys foreplay 

He’ll have you writhing and gasping before even filling you with his dick; 

His head was hung low, eyes focused on the spot where your bare pussy was dragging against the denim of his jeans. He tensed his thigh, corners of his mouth quirking up as he caught sound of your breath hitching.

You sniffled, softly whining his name and trying to rut yourself faster against him.

He looked up fully, fangs escaping his complacent smile and gently resting on his lower lip 

“Wow. You’re so greedy, baby,” He ‘tsked’, playfully scolding you. 

His hands kept their iron grip on your hips, rocking you back and forth slowly and dictating exactly how much pressure you got to feel on your throbbing clit each time 

You tried to glare at him, but then suddenly he was bouncing his leg and your glare became a sultry pout as you cried out for him 

Unusually, you were sitting on his couch this time around 

He had started by tricking you into watching a movie, clearly with other intentions in mind, but you fell right into his trap and happily obliged when he pulled you to his lap 

Cold breath ghosted over your neck as he had slowly inched his fingers into your sleeping shorts, edging you until you were completely cross eyed and just about to cum only to pull away and situate you on his thigh instead 

He had turned you around to face him, so he could observe your pitiful expressions as he kept giving you more but never enough 

He thoroughly enjoyed it, and now you had been subject to his cruel torture for nearly two hours 

He continued bouncing you, leaning in to get a long sniff of your neck 

You felt his long, wet tongue lap up and down right in the crook of your neck and his already tight grip on your hips became bruising 

He groaned softly, fangs lightly scraping your soft skin 

“Not fair,” he slurred. “You smell so fucking good.” 

You pushed yourself more into him, hands moving from his shoulders to the back of his head to cradle him against your neck 

With your fingers gently treading through his black hair, you barely managed to whisper; “T-take what you need, then.” 

Well aware that Marshall had now also fallen for his own trap, he complied easily 

He lifted you slightly with his arm around your waist, settling you to now grind on the bulge in his pants instead as his two fangs pierced your skin 

The feeling of his straining, but clothed, cock against your core was enough to momentarily distract you from the warm pain and pinch of Marshall’s bite 

With one hand locked around your waist, the other came to the back of your head to angle you to his liking, leaving your lower half to its own devices 

Maybe he was right when calling you greedy, because you instantly took the opportunity to sit down on his crotch 

His clothed dick spread your folds slightly, the zipper of his pants pressing on your clit and you moaned loudly— finally getting enough stimulation 

Marshall’s pupils were blown wide as he lapped up your blood, clutching you to him as tightly as he could without breaking your back as he started rutting his own ups up into you 

If felt heavenly, you quickly got used to his fangs in your skin and the full throb became somewhat of a pleasant ache in your neck 

Too caught up in his meal, he barely noticed when you came all over his pants, slick coating your inner thighs and now spilling over his crotch as well 

You whined loudly as you came, panting out a never ending mantra of your boyfriends name and shuddering all over from the intense fell of it all 

You clawed at his scalp, desperate for some kind of stability as you finally came down a bit 

However, Marshall was still rutting into you, with no intention of stopping, keeping the fire in your belly raging even though you just came 

When he finally managed to pull away from your neck, lower face and cheeks smeared with blood, he wasted no time unbuckling his jeans 

You cried out in relief when he lifted you again, lining you up with his long, pale cock, completely stiff and leaking 

The drunkenly satisfied meal that escaped you when he finally nudged into you was music to his ears

After hours of waiting, you ached to feel him stretching your walls 

He shuddered at the feeling, too, your gummy walls always fit him so snuggly he was surprised he could even fit inside

Your previous orgasm along with the drawn out teasing had made you beyond sensitive, your head was spinning, mouth parting in delirious moans as you finally, finally felt the fullness of his dick inside you 

He hissed when you gently rocked yourself against him, walls fluttering around his cock. “Easy there,” he breathed, mouth returning to that smug smile he bore before, this time coated in blood. “Aren’t you gonna be a good girl?” 

You whined helplessly, hugging him to you and burrowing your face in the crook of his neck 

He felt you nod against him in confirmation, gently licking at his skin and biting at his shirt to keep yourself sane 

He leaned back on the couch, cradling you to his chest and starting a slow and torturous pace of his hips 

You moaned each time he buckled upwards, meeting his thrust with a desperate one of your own 

He breathed out a laugh. “You’re so goddamn wet, it’s all over my pants, sweetheart.” He commented condescendingly, nuzzling your hair with his bloodied face 

It got in your hair, it was also still leaking from your neck but you didn’t care 

All you could manage was a small huff in response against Marshall’s collarbone, clutching his T-shirt in your hands 

His statement was true, though 

You were absolutely leaking on his cock, it dribbled down his shaft, creating a small puddle underneath you on his pants and the couch 

Gently, you lifted your head to mouth at his neck, then his jaw 

“More.” You muttered, your voice cracked slightly and it came as a whisper, but you knew Marshall’s supernatural senses would pick up on it anyways 

He cackled in response. “You can handle more?”

Vigorously you nodded and before you could even register it, Marshall had you on your back on the couch 

You looked up at him hazily, fingers trailing the few marks you had left on his neck, all of which was already beginning to heal 

He leaned down to kiss you as he started pounding into you, making the couch shake and knock against the table besides it with each movement 

He hoisted your leg up, bringing the left one over his shoulder and dove into you deeper, enough to make you feel him all the way in your lower belly 

When he was done kissing you, leaving you breathless and your lips swollen, he nosed down your neck until he found his bite marks and resumed his feasting 

You tightened and fluttered around him, flailing as the liquid flames in your belly grew until they became almost unbearable 

You tried pleading with Marshall, but all that came out of your mouth was incoherent mewls of his name or loud moans 

He was close too, you could tell by the way he was clutching you, his demon-like nails had grown and was leaving small cuts and indents where he was holding you 

He groaned into you, deeply and animalistic and it vibrated through your whole body in the most pleasant of tingling sensations 

That was enough to tip you over the edge, and without warning you creamed on his dick, walls fluttering and constricting so tightly around him he almost found it hard to pull back out

He took a sharp intake of air, departing from your neck for only a moment to glance down and watch the way your pussy was milking him 

He moaned a little at the sight, licking his lips and picking up speed

You could only just lay there as his thrust became inhumane, you knew he was holding back when you two fucked, but it never failed to surprise you when he took use of some of his actual strength 

Something in the sofa cracked, the sound of wood splitting barely reaching your sex-drunk mind as Marshall fucked you rough and fast 

His own thrusts became somewhat sloppy as he used you to chase his end, he watched your face intently, eyebrows knitted in concentration 

When you finally opened your eyes, locking eyes with him and presenting him with the most fucked-out expression he had ever seen you hold, he came 

He didn’t bother to pull out, instead he held your hips tightly to his, releasing his load inside you 

You softly sighed in delight, body numb and heavy 

It took a while for him to pull out, but when he finally did, he went straight to nuzzling into you again 

He hugged you closely, supporting you against his chest as he sat up, lifted his hips and pulled his pants back up 

Marshall is surprisingly good at aftercare, I mean, after all that teasing he better be treating you right after 

He’s always very cuddly, and makes sure to clean you up properly after

He starts with you always, his own needs come in seconds after he’s done with you 

He’s looking at you all lovestruck and starry eyed too, with a goofy lil smile on his face, adorable 

He tugs you against him, preferably in his bed, and helps you clean up the puncture wounds with his tongue and a wet towel 

Awe, he’s so cute (,: 

He just wants to make you feel loved 🥰🥰

Especially cause he knows humans are not build for the kinda sex he’s build for, he’s always a bit scared he’s breached your limits too much or exhausted too much 

And I mean, yes, he has, but you thoroughly enjoy it so.. 

No okay I know I just said he’s soft in the post-but clarity, but sometimes he can also be a teasing little shit 

Depending on how loud he made you moan or how much he got you to embarrass yourself 

In the instance above, he’s pretty soft, but don’t be fooled, man’s is a demon after all 🫢

He’s so hot pls 🥲✋

He’s been needing his own smut for so long too oml,,, I hope you enjoyed it.

Sorry this is also not as fluffy as a first date thing would be, but if it’s something y’all want I could write something about that too. Thanks for the read! 🙏

[transformation4life]

Army, Man

Juan was your average guy before his life was changed forever. Decent grades at his dream college, but no friends to speak of. So when he received a letter to join the US army in his assigned mailbox Juan was very confused. "The army? They must joking." Juan spoke as he looked at the recruitment flyer in his dorm room.

Juan and being enlisted in the army sounded like a twisted joke to him. He was scrawny and could barely do one pushup in gym class. Either way, Juan noticed a number at the bottom of the flyer in big bold letters and some voice in his head was nagging at him to call it.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'll be fun! Who knows!" So Juan grabbed his phone and dialed the number.

Some rings later and it sounded like a guy picked a phone. "Hey there, Name's Gruff, I'm assuming you're calling cause of the flyer you got in the mail, yeah?" Gruff's was deep and masculine. Definitely Juan's type but I bet he was straight.

"Y-Yeah! I thought I'd give it a shot since it's not like I got anything better to do!"

"That's the spirit man! Our army count has been real low due to... events so even one guy joining is great! But first I just need to ask you a few questions..." "A-Alright. Go on ahead..." Juan had to wonder what they would ask. "First question! Are you sure you want to join the army?" Gruff's tone was dead serious on this one and it shook Juan up a bit. "U-Uh... Yeah!" Juan was too far in to quit now at least that was his reasoning.

"Wonderful! Next question. How muscular are you?"

Juan frowned. As mentioned before, he barely had muscle and never went to the gym. Still, he felt the need to answer honestly.

"N-Not really sir. Sorry." "Haha don't worry about it! Alright that's all see you soon!" Gruff hung up before Juan could even say bye.

Juan was a bit shaken but that wasn't too bad. Juan pondered the interaction and something hit him. "Wait... I didn't tell him my address and he said he'll see me soo-" A wave of pain immediately hit Juan and he fell to the floor.

It wasn't before long Juan's body began to grow and get more muscular. Juan's arms became much beefier as his biceps were the size of sports balls. Six perfect abs popped onto Juan's stomach as his nonexistent chest began to inflate and become thick poppable pecs as his back expanded to support his new musculature making his tshirt real tight. Soon after, Juan's neck got thicker as his adam's apple was now ever more prominent than before as he gained some facial hair around his mouth. Juan's legs were next to grow as his thighs became much larger and his legs more defined as feet increased some sizes. Luckily Juan wasn't wearing any shoes but Juan's socks definitely didn't survive the growth. Some more minor changes appeared like a bigger dick and Juan's body aging physically. It's a miracle none of Juan's clothes ripped apart but it's not like it mattered anyway as Juan's apparel began to change.

Juan's graphic tee became more tough material and more generic as it became a dark green. It was still tight around Juan's figure though. Next up was Juan's pants as it gained a camouflage pattern and became cargo pants. A belt magically appeared and looped around the belt holes of his news pants as well as an army hat wrapping around Juan's head. Juan's socks were stitched back together and went a dark black and suddenly army boots were now being worn by Juan. The last change was an army tag appearing around Juan's neck saying "Juan Graham". Juan was now the definition of a buff army man.

Once the pain subsided and Juan regained his bearings he readjusted his glasses and looked at the mirror nearby. "What the- WHAT THE FU- Oh god, my voice... my EVERYTHING!" Juan was amazed but also scared. He gained muscles in seconds but how?

And before Juan could question things further, Juan's phone rang once again. Juan saw that it was the army recruit number. He concluded they must be involved so he answered the call.

"Hey Juan, ready for your first day?" It was Gruff again "First day? You did this to me, didn't you?"

"Not sure what you mean, but you agreed to join the army and we need you now." "But I don't even know anything about how to do anythin-" One more sound of pain hit Juan as memories of years of military training and gym workouts filled his mind. Everything he could ever need to be in the army was now in his brain. Juan now much more confident started a new sentence. "Nevermind. When does the car get here?"

"That's our Juan! Should be there soon. You can walk out and wait already." "Perfect. See you soon." Juan hung up and left his dorm and old life behind. It was probably for the best anyway. He much preferred being a beefcake army man than some twink in college.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------- Apologies for not posting for a couple months. I got major writer's block but here's a story for you guys hope you like it!

[wonwoonlight]

conclusion number three | jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x Reader

➝ fluff / slice of life / nonidol!au

➝ total word count: 1.4k

➝ notes, warnings: just them being cute. not proofread. wonwoo can be a lil ooc. Inspired by this post. i just love wonwoo so much, this is a wonwoo simp post. enjoy!

summary: you have a hypothesis you'd like to prove.

Wonwoo, you've come to realize, loves being complimented.

He doesn't say it out loud, doesn't do anything that screams "compliment me!", but he's not very subtle about his smile either when someone genuinely compliments him about something.

It's something that you've only noticed recently, and you're still keen on proving this hypothesis by throwing in compliments on random intervals throughout the days just to see how he'd react.

"You look very nice today." You say out of nowhere when Wonwoo is looking down at his coffee.

He blinks, a little confused, though you don't miss the shy smile he sports that's gone as quick as it appears.

"Thank you? We've been sitting here for an hour, though?" He doesn't say out loud the question of why you're only saying this now, but it's there and you shrug carelessly.

Conclusion number one: compliments about his look doesn't bring as much as a reaction from him even though it's there.

When you pass by a pretty flower wall, you ask Wonwoo to take a picture of you, something that he happily complies with and never complains about. 

After taking a few shots, he proudly shows you the pictures and says that the pictures came out nicely though he can take more if there’s a certain angle you prefer. You're looking at him instead of your phone, haven't even properly looked at the pictures, but your hypothesis is more important now so you say it anyway.

"You're very good at taking pictures, aren't you?"

He tilts his head before he looks at you, then smiles before he adds nonchalantly as he scrolls through the pictures he’s just taken, making your whole face warm with his comment.

"You're just very pretty."

Conclusion number two: he can brush off compliments about his skill easily though he seems pleased either way. (Need to confirm by complimenting his other skill that can't be turned back to you. Smooth bastard.)

You stumble upon a small festival on your way to dinner. Deciding to eat there instead, you and Wonwoo make you way through the festival, looking at the stalls along the street. You swing your hand as you walk through the sea of people, a little too excited to notice you've been swinging it a little too much.

Wonwoo grabs your hand with a chuckle, and when you look at him in question, he shakes his head without offering any explanation.

Looking at your hand in his, you hum before you tighten your hold and feel Wonwoo returns the gesture.

"Your hand is very warm, I like it."

He stops in his tracks, his eyes soft as he pulls you closer to him.

"You're very cheesy today, aren't you?"

Hm. Of course he'll catch up. At least he'd never know why you're doing this.

"What? I can't compliment my boyfriend?" You try to sound nonchalant, accompanied by a shrug that Wonwoo doesn't really buy.

He doesn't prod though, because what's the use in prodding when he can just accept compliments from the person he loves? There's no reason whatsoever for him to hold it against you. So he shakes his head and you feel the soft brush of his thumb against your knuckle before he pulls you to walk again. 

You stop by a crepe stall because you're craving sweets, your body swaying a little due to your excitement; you can’t remember the last time you went to a festival, probably a few years back during university, and to be here with Wonwoo of all people makes everything exciting–even waiting for an overpriced crepe because you have him by your side.

You press your lips together to stop the embarrassing squeal that’s trying to get out of your lips when the food vendor hands you your crepe, which says a lot about how enthusiastic you really are about the whole thing. Wonwoo chuckles yet again, keeps it in his mind to find more festivals to go to if you're this enticed by the thing.

Seeing an empty bench a while ago, you make your way back there in hope it’s still empty so you can eat your crepe and the takoyaki Wonwoo has just bought in peace. Thankfully, it is still empty, an old couple sits on the bench next to you and a group of three guys on the bench next to them.

Wonwoo sets the takoyaki and the bubble teas between the two of you, enjoying the festival vibe as he nibbles on a piece of takoyaki. You happily eat your crepe too, though you eye his food and wonder if it’s good. You don’t usually like takoyakis, but they seem good today and you blame it on the vibe around you.

“Want to try some?” He asks when he notices you frowning at the treat he’s holding.

Your lips purse in thoughts, and he breaths a chuckle before he pushes it in front of your lips. You take a full bite, and regret it immediately because it’s hot and you panic when your crepe almost topples from your hands.

The sound of Wonwoo’s laughter fill your ears despite the noise around you, and even though he’s laughing, his hands are already busy taking the crepe from your grip and handing you your bubble tea so you can cool the inside of your mouth down. He hands you a napkin too, something you gratefully take as you cough into the thing.

You say a bunch of incoherent things which Wonwoo guesses is just you telling him to shut up, but the way your cheeks turn completely full and you’re flailing your hands are just nothing but adorable to him that he can’t help grinning despite his worry.

When you finally manage to swallow the takoyaki (which does taste good and you would’ve appreciated had the prior incident not existed), you hit him square in the shoulder for laughing at your misery.

“Good to know my boyfriend likes seeing me suffer.” You glare.

“You know it’s not that.” He says softly, the smile never leaving his face. Before you can say anything back, he absentmindedly reaches out to wipe the corner of your lip with his thumb, then licks whatever that was there and continues with his meal.

You blink continuously, your whole face warm and you have to bite your lip from smiling too hard. 

What the fuck?

It seems like something he does without even realizing, because when he notices you’ve frozen in place, he looks genuinely confused and asks what happened like he didn’t just do what he did in a very public place.

Wonwoo has never really been one for public affections though he takes care of you the same. He doesn’t mind holding hands; but that’s about it–everything else he does behind the comfort of your door.

“Hey.” He pokes your cheek. “Why are you lagging?”

“Not funny.” You look at him unimpressed before you take your crepe back in embarrassment, though that doesn’t discourage him to grin at his own little joke. “Also, nothing.” 

“Ah, young love.” You hear the grandma next to you say to her spouse, something that Wonwoo seems to catch too because he shares that look with you. “Remember when you used to do that to me, too?”

The grandpa’s voice is too small for you to catch on, but what she says next gets your heart beating in an arrhythmical beat and you force yourself to lock your gaze on Wonwoo despite your embarrassment, his eyes avoiding yours, the tip of his ears blazing red, and he’s pressing his lips together so hard as if to contain a smile.

“They seem very in love, don't they? The young man takes care of the girl so well, I hope our son takes care of his wife like that too.”

“You take care of me well, huh?” You whisper, and he pretends like he doesn’t hear you regardless of the way he looks down to hide his smile that he’s no longer able to contain.

You grin at this, and you take his face in your hands so he’ll look at you. You’re a little surprised at how warm his face is, and you decide to spare him from the teasing you were originally about to do and you say another thing instead.

“You do take care of me very well; I’m glad I have you with me.” 

Conclusion number three: Wonwoo loves it very much when someone compliments him on the way he is with you.

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser — Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.3k TYPE: Angst, Post-break up WARNING(S): Don't read if you're sensitive to medical stuff, also tw for KAISER-TYPICAL MELODRAMA

“Are you fucking kidding me? That just sounds made up.”

“Sir,” the doctor, who’s been having to deal with Kaiser acting like the hospital is a debate club for the past fifteen minutes, says. Then he lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. In all honesty, he does not want to deal with this. “While there’s an existing argument about the classification of broken heart syndrome, it is a real thing that happens. And you have it as we’ve deduced.”

“I don’t have health problems,” Kaiser says. Of course, those words fly out of his mouth without trouble even when Ness had to call an ambulance on him and everything, since he looked like he was on the brink of death today at practice. “Much less from bullshit reasons like a broken heart.”

“You don’t need to take it literally. That’s just the name. The trigger for the stress varies from case to case.”

Kaiser hopes his defensive statement didn’t reveal anything too personal, and decides to throw off any suspicion by staring down at his lap while frowning like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. At least the doctor doesn’t seem to care because he’s not prying for unnecessary details. Not yet, anyway.

“For how long have you been ignoring the symptoms?”

“I haven’t been ignoring anything,” Kaiser says.

Sure, he was dizzy a few (many) times and short of breath, and disregarded it. And while he can sense the tightness and pain in his chest each time, a recurring physical and tangible ache, Kaiser interprets the experience as some kind of metaphor for the figurative stabbing he was a victim of. The arrhythmia is a natural indignant response to whenever your irritating face pops up in his imagination, since you’re the perpetrator.

All this over some shitty break up. While it’s stupid for someone whose career is in sports to shrug off such obvious signs, until today Kaiser never truly thought it was serious enough to warrant such an overreaction from his body. You shouldn’t have this much power over him. He’s going to kill you next time he sees you for doing this to him.

He’s deep in denial and the grave he’s been digging with his stupid lies is shallow in contrast, inefficient. Can’t even deceive himself.

“It’s most common in people over fifty.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”

“What I’m saying is, I assume you’ve been ignoring this for some time and it escalated to a bad attack. So, do you recall if you’ve gone through severe stress recently? Anything traumatizing even, either physically or mentally? When was it? If you could be exact, that’d be helpful.”

Traumatizing? Traumatizing? Is this man fucking kidding him right now?

Kaiser stares at the doctor as if he’s the stupidest person alive. Forget a person, he is a bug for such a suggestion. Through grit teeth, he relents, “There was something two weeks ago. By the way, it wasn’t traumatizing! That’s ridiculous.”

What’s even more absurd is the notion Kaiser wouldn’t know how much time has passed with perfect accuracy. Fourteen days he hasn’t been sleeping well, hugging his pillow and crying like a loser, cursing you, wanting you back, both a worshipper and a heretic.

What was he feeling at that moment, when you broke things off? Was it overwhelming anger which got him to this point? Though he’s been reliving the moment over and over, Kaiser still can’t identify it. Just something intense zapping him through his veins, a devastating shock, a surge of adrenaline. But surely it was resentment at your audacity to throw him away like disposable trash? He doesn’t like the thought that he’s been so pathetically sad, he got sick because of it, so this is what he’ll go with.

Thinking about it is enough to make him start picking at the skin on his neck like he’s trying to peel the ink off. It’s almost vile. At least he retains the common sense not to squeeze it in front of a medical professional who can send him away to a psych ward with ease.

The doctor, too, looks at Kaiser like he is an insane person. Good thing they pay him enough for this — otherwise, he doesn’t know how he’d deal with having a strange man with a bizarre haircut give him attitude over his diagnosis when it should be reserved for his barber or whoever is responsible.

“Two weeks ago, okay,” he says, writing it down. “Lucky for you, this is temporary and reversible unlike most other things we checked you for. You’ll be fine in about two months with the treatment.”

“So, like I thought, it’s not a big deal. I can still play football, right? Don’t need to lay off or anything?” Kaiser asks.

The doctor sighs. Again. He wants to measure the circumference, thickness and density of Kaiser’s skull. “You’re not listening,” he says, clearly exasperated, but still trying to exert patience. “Your heart is weak and not functioning properly at the moment. You can’t immediately jump back into living the way you usually do. It’s still serious no matter what you say and it can cause complications.”

Kaiser makes an annoyed expression like this is all one big inconvenience rather than a threat to his quality of life. “Are you serious? You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I’m honored you seem to think I’m a hilarious comedian, sir, since this is your nth time asking, but it’s not the case,” he says levelly.

“Don’t get clever with me.”

A sharp inhale through the nose and the doctor’s back on track, maintaining a feeble grasp on his inner peace, at least enough not to snap. Then, after this brief recollection, he reaches out to grab something, then holds it up. It’s a picture that looks either like an abortion-to-be or a black and white photo of lasagna… maybe. “This is your heart.”

Kaiser almost forgot about the ultrasound or whatever since he was strung out and sedated- relaxed throughout that whole ordeal. At the sight of it now, always theatrical, he decides the best course of action is to wrinkle his nose and say ‘eww,’ even though he’s not squeamish. But treating the matter seriously means admitting he has a problem, and he can’t have that.

The doctor pretends he can’t hear anything and points at the relevant area with his finger to illustrate the crux of the matter better. “You have apical ballooning. Do you get it? Even if it’s temporary, you can’t treat it lightly. So-”

Kaiser tunes out the rest of the explanation. Blah, blah, he could harm himself, very original. His gaze is stuck on the echocardiogram, though, and this time he’s nauseous for real, the tiniest bit. It strikes him as particularly ugly and deformed. Organs are repulsive to begin with, anyway, but this… thing is his, and he’s seeing it now. In any case, nothing so disgusting is worth loving or treating with care.

Is this how you’ve come to see him? What does Kaiser look like in your eyes? Ugly and maladjusted on the inside? Someone who likes laughing at other people’s misery, but can’t take even the slightest puncture? So out of touch with his emotions — and of his own volition —, he’s started experiencing them in the most visceral way possible. His desire for you: torment, a disease.

Would you find him dramatic? Maybe, but at least you’d make him laugh and smile and anything else his troubled mind has decided he needs at the moment, from you alone. Doesn’t matter, though. He’s not privy to that kind of thing, not anymore.

There’s a sting in his eyes and Kaiser wipes away his tears with a hasty swipe, though a few more stream down his cheeks. He doesn’t even know what he’s crying about again.

The doctor observes the display with the distanced apathy of someone who’s watched people die and shit themselves.

He gets discharged with a prescription and elaborate instructions on how to go about his physical activities until it’s deemed he’s fully healed at the later check-ups.

Great. Pitiful.

___

What's funny is that Y/n's probably having a good day while all this is going on

[teddybeartoji]

touching teeth with gojo. sounds weird i know but my beloved biters and chewers just stay with me here okay. you're both sitting on your bed in the dim-lit room, the only light being the computer screen on the floor. there's some music playing quietly in the background but it's all muffled in – your focus being on the man sitting before you.

his pupils are blown wide and his lips are parted, deep breaths slipping from between them. his chest is rising and falling fast, the excitement bubbling in it, ready to burst. you're facing him, sitting on the bed with your knees tucked underneath you. you're not doing any better than he is – you're heaving like he is, eyes so big and wide, fingers itching to feel him already.

you don't really remember how you ended up here but that doesn't matter. his lips strech into a hungry smile, the rows of perfect teeth flashing you teasingly. he knows you're ready to lunge because he's ready to lunge. you lean forward an inch and he does the same. everything is so slow, the clock in your room has stopped in its track, the music has gone quiet. your own lips mirror the smile the boy in front of you is sporting and you see something flicker in his eyes. curiosity? want? need? a mixture of all of them? they drop down to your mouth and he gulps. you look delicious. he looks delicious. it's a feast.

you part your lips and he automatically opens his wider too, completely mirroring you. you lean closer, he leans closer. the distance between you isn't there anymore, you can smell his cologne, fuck – you can almost taste him. your own eyes flick to his mouth and as if your hand has a mind of its own, it raises to touch his soft flesh.

satoru's breath hitches, feeling your fingers against him. you slowly drag them all over his mouth, pushing and pulling his lips until they're properly pink and a little bit swollen. he's really panting now, sounding a bit like a dog. a puppy, eager to play. a cub, eager to bite.

he can't tear his eyes from your lips either, he's intoxicated. he's addicted, and you only make it worse when you sink your teeth into them. he lets out a quiet little groan, from the depths of his throat, making your grin stretch even wider.

your hand cradles his face, tracing over his cheekbone before resting on his jaw. your thumb pokes at his bottom lip, the quiet open up, baby coming from you is making him feel dizzy but he obeys nonetheless. his mouth opens wider than before, displaying the sharp canines you've been thinking about for the longest time. oh, he's perfect.

you press your thumb inside his warm mouth, dragging it over his teeth, feeling the edges of them against your soft skin. satoru's eyes close as he fists the bedsheet underneath your bodies. he's so warm, and you feel yourself sigh when your thumb meets with his tongue. his lips lock you inside, his tongue swirling around your finger before he hollows his cheeks and sucks on it. you can't breathe anymore.

you've never been this enamoured with anyone before. he's sucking on you thumb, teeth gently grazing against it and you're in love with him. you tell him to open up again and he listens in a second, he's good like that. you tell him to look at you and he does – big beautiful doe eyes staring back at you, ready to do whatever you ask him to do. whatever you tell him to do. you award him with another smile and he just can't help but match your expression. there's spit all over his mouth and the desire to clean him up is eating you alive, but you have to wait. you need to take this slowly.

he's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky and you love him. deciding to push him even further, you wrap your fingers around his wrist and pull it closer to yourself. he doesn't say anything, only observing and learning. you raise his hand to your mouth and you part your lips, inviting him in.

his leans forward with his whole body, hypnotized by the sight before him. you hold his hand with both of yours, molding his fingers into a fist, only leaving his pointer finger out. you guide him in, watching his adam's apple bob at the warm feeling. you guide him over your own canines, just as you'd done with his, letting him explore the inside of your mouth. his own hangs open and he looks so cute like this.

you take your hands off of him and watch him fall into the deep pit of hunger all on his own. his heavy finger presses down on the row of sharp edges, secretly wishing it'd drew blood. he runs his finger over the sides of your teeth, smoothly gliding over them causing the skin of your cheek bulge out. he tries to swallow the thing stuck in his throat but he can't. he feels like he's suffocating; gasping for air, gasping for more of you.

while he's focused on the finger disappearing into you, you take the time to trace of his lips again, promptly pushing through them and connecting you both. teeth and skin. wet and warm. his eyes glance up only to find you already staring at him and he feels himself harden in his pants.

gently, you bite down on his finger, he does the same. he gnaws on you and you do the same. it's romantic. it's erotic. you need more.

so, suddenly you move from your sitting position, pushing the boy in front of you down onto the soft bed. situating yourself over his abdomen, you press another finger into his mouth, reveling in the way his eyes roll back into his head for a moment. his finger is still locked between your sharp teeth, leaving deep dents in it. god, he wishes you'd draw blood. his free hand goes to your hip, squeezing the flesh so hard it'll bruise. you need more.

the room feels too hot, your bodies feel too hot. satoru feels like he's about to melt into the bed, your heavy gaze burning him alive. fingers press flat on his tongue and his eyes widen once more, and when you press them deeper into his mouth, down his throat – his hips buck under you. his eyes close as he tries his best to keep from gagging. you bite down on him harder and his eyes do another round around his skull. fuck.

cracking open his eyes, he's greeted with a big toothy grin. it's reaching your ears, and with the way your eyes shine in the dark room, it's a bit scary. is this the beast one might meet in a forest somewhere? the one that will eat and devour him? the one that'll open him up and consume him?

his heart thrashes in his ribcage, calling for you, reaching out to you. he's not the predator he thought he was; he's the oblivious prey, who walked into your love all on his own and who is now stuck in it.

it's not like he wants to leave anyway.

[bettyfrommars]

Handcuffs & Crab Rangoon

(also known as How I Met Your Mother)

playgirl!Eddie x Reader

By Request! From this ask, directly inspired by this delicious artwork by @sporelium (run don't walk if you haven't seen it yet) but also inspired by the 1995 Peter Steele Playgirl cover. Peter notoriously kept his joystick hard for most of the 6-7 hour shoot because he thought readers of the magazine would enjoy it more than if it were flaccid (I'm fine either way, but damn, thanks baby). wc: 4.3k

18+Only, mature content, smut, rockstar!Eddie, oral (f receiving), protected p in v, reader wears overalls, pet names, fingering, mention of Eddie's scars, accidental edging, sex on the job, sneaky sex, she/her is used once, no y/n, reader is a tough cookie, but Eddie is magic. It is the mid-90's.

Playgirl!eddie afterthoughts

---------

You’d been helping out a photographer for risqué magazine shoots as an assistant for almost 5 months now.  It was the fourth job you had just to keep yourself afloat while trying to live an independent life in LA. To make it in show business you had to be extremely talented, drop dead gorgeous, backed by generational wealth, or just plain lucky, and you were none of those.  So, you broke your back to make ends meet while taking night classes and working on the script you were writing with two other friends.

The studio loft on the second floor was an expansive space with windows overlooking the industrial district all along the wall.  Sasha, the photographer, stood adjusting her camera on the tripod, while the makeup artist touched up the rockstar you were working with that day, and Need You Tonight by INXS played low from the radio on a nearby shelf.  

You saw him from the back first; long, dark wavy hair hanging down over the white robe he wore to protect his modesty for the time being.  You noticed that his hands were strong and calloused as they hung at his sides.  June, the makeup artist, was on a step stool to blot his nose with powder and fix the crown of his hair.  

June saw you coming and introduced you, causing Eddie to turn on his heel, tightening the sash on his robe as he did.

You sucked in your bottom lip to hold back a whimper at the zing you felt when his warm hazelnut eyes met yours.  His full, soft lips parted in greeting, a long strand from his bangs bouncing on his eyelash, his gaze rolling over you from head to foot indulgently.

Of course, you’d heard of rock star Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin. At one of your other jobs, a girl you worked with had his magazine cutouts taped to the inside of her locker.  Last year, he was Cher’s date to the Grammys.  He was getting ready to go on tour, and procuring tickets was all any of your friends could talk about.

But, goddamn, he was much better looking in person than any tabloid or tv show could've ever prepared you for, and the chemistry vibrating in the space between the two of you was palpable.  

“Eddie…Munson, you say?” You squinted, as if you were trying to place him, like the name sounded familiar but you didn’t know why while June fixed the back of his hair. “Football player, right?”

The tip of his tongue sipped out to wet his lips, curling one side of his mouth up in a half grin.  “I love a girl who knows her sports.”

There were a few loaded seconds there when the two of you just sank into a sexually charged stare-down, both unwilling to budge.  

Sasha called your name, snapping you out of it.  She came over to let Eddie know what your role was, and encouraged him to let you know if there was anything you could do to help him relax.  She finished explaining a few things to him while you brought over a glass of lemon water.  

Sasha walked away and he took a sip, keeping his eyes on you over the glass, smirking.

“What?” you mirrored the smirk.  “This will be such an easy job for me because I know you rockstars don’t have any problem taking your cocks out and being admired in public.”

“Oh, you know me, huh?” He challenged.

You worked your jaw, pussy clenching, wondering what he looked like out of his robe.  “You’re all the same, aren’t you? Arrogant, over-sexed, and too pretty for your own good.”

“Well, you got me on the pretty part,” he winked.  “But nah, I’m not a rockstar.  I’m just a small-town freak who got lucky and, this has all been fucking overwhelming to tell you the truth.”  Eddie was tall, with broad shoulders, and your mouth dried up a little at the tattoos on his forearms that peeked out from under the sleeve of the robe.

You took the glass from him when he was finished.  “We have the small town thing in common, at least,” you said with an incline of your head.

It was time to get started, but even as Sasha motioned him over, he paused next to you, so close that the ends of his hair grazed your shoulder.  “So, if I can’t get relaxed on my own, then that means you have to help me?”  He whispered it, but forcefully, so you could feel his warm breath on the side of your head.  You could smell the mix of spearmint and tobacco.

Keeping your eyes straight ahead, you swallowed hard as the woodsy spice of his scent hit your nostrils.  “I’ll do my best for you, Mr. Munson,” and then you dared to glance up, your breath hitching as he unfastened his robe and lowered it from his shoulders right in front of you, only a few feet away.  

You tried not to show emotion because you knew he was watching, but you closed your mouth to keep a yearning mew from escaping.  There were tattoos scattered around his defined muscles, but there were also fascinating scars like floral blooms along his neck, chest, and stomach. Your eyes ached to travel down to the V-shape that cut into his hips and the treasure below, but you refused to give him the satisfaction.  Not yet anyway.

You were just about to tell him he could keep the robe on until he was comfortable, but he threw the article of clothing over for you to catch.  “I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

Half of the people Sasha photographed were too shy to take the robe off right away, and maybe Eddie would have hesitated in other circumstances, but you had a strange feeling he was doing this for you.  If Sasha wasn’t asking him to look at the camera, his eyes were always banking in your direction.  

“I think we should try the handcuffs,” Sasha said to the room, but mostly to you.  

You made your way over to where the props were, knowing that Eddie’s eyes were keeping pace, and playfully dangled the silver cuffs from your thumb and forefinger as you retrurned, wiggling your eyebrows; a gesture he was happy to return. 

“Front or behind?” You asked Sasha.

“Behind for now,” she answered.  “You okay with that Mr. Munson?”

“My god,” he chuckled, putting his hands behind his back for you to have easy access to the tender skin of his wrists.  “Call me anything but Mr. Munson.  Eddie is fine.”

You always tried to keep things very professional, but not only that—you’d been around so many naked bodies, they all started to look the same to you.  This was your job, and mostly it never even occurred to you to see the models in a lustful way..  You never let your eyes hover too long on the private parts of your clients; maybe just a glance and that was it.  But the job of fastening Eddie’s handcuffs had you taking in the firm structure of his ass like it was a visual last meal.  

You stroked your finger a few times in his palm.  “Is that too tight?” 

The combination of your touch and the way you whispered gave him chills in the best way possible and his fingers flexed, as if trying to reach out for you.  “I hope you have a key for these things,” he mumbled.

“I do,” you assured him.  “But I’m about to swallow it.”

“Hey,” he hushed over his shoulder before you could walk away.  “Should my dick be hard for this?”

You wanted to kiss his arm, you wanted to bite it.  Instead, you put your hands together and intertwined your fingers.  “Do you want it to be?”

Eddie lowered his chin, voice barely audible.  “Are you offering to help, sweetheart?

Sasha took a few more photos as he was, standing to the side, eyes flicking to where you stood behind Sasha’s shoulder.  When it was time for you to take the handcuffs off, Eddie stretched his hands, turning to face front. “No chick wants to look at a flaccid dick when they buy magazines like this,” he announced.  “Give me a second to…get ready? If you know what I mean?”

While Sasha and June went out for a smoke break, Eddie put his robe on, and headed for his private dressing room, but he paused in the door and turned to find you. His eyebrows popped up a few times,  motioned with his hand down low for you to follow him in.  You knew  you could lose your job for fornicating with Eddie during a photo shoot, but at that moment, you couldn’t have cared less.

Once you were in, Eddie closed the door and leaned back against it, his robe falling open.  He clutched a fist into the front of your overalls, pulling you closer.  Your fingertips feathered down the ridges of his scars, thumb caressing over his missing nipple, and he jutted his head forward to meet your mouth, but you were too fast, dropping to your knees to taste his cock, taking your job and his request a bit too seriously.  

“Wait,” Eddie sank his hand around your throat, guiding you back up to full height.  “Kiss me first,” he swiped the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip.  “And then you can kill me.”

While the tiny person in charge of your brain ran around inside your skull screaming, your  lips met his, tips of tongues introducing each other first, and then echoed moans, opening wide to take each other deeper.

“I know what will get me hard,” he told you in a breathy rush.  “Take these off,” he motioned to the overalls you were wearing.  “And sit on the counter.”

He walked forward so that you would back up, his hands supporting your waist.

You looked back at the counter top. “But we don’t have much time to—” 

“I don’t need much time,” he said, swatting a stool out of his way so it crashed to the ground.  “I want you in my mouth.”

You shivered and obeyed, unhooking your overalls, letting them fall to the floor.  You were in nothing but a tank top now, ass on the cool edge of the Formica, and he pulled your underwear down your legs, salivating and biting his lip as he did so. 

 “Fuuuuck, you are so wet,” He pushed your knees wider with his strong arms and sank his tongue into your glistening folds, flicking the nub a few times.  “Did you get this wet just for me? Hmmm?”

“Yes Eddie,” you whimpered, bracing yourself on the beige counter next to the vanity, watching him drag his chin all the way up your slit, and then pull and twist his tongue down, darting it into your hole.  His eyes met yours again, his mouth latching onto your sweet spot and sucking there.  You wrapped your legs over his shoulders and sunk your heels into his back.

His fingers dug into the meat at your hips, his mouth diving deeper, sucking in while his tongue flicked. He reached a hand down between his legs and started stroking himself, getting more and more turned at the way you were gasping and twitching.

You grabbed the top of his head.  “Fuckkk Eddie fuck just like that.”

His eyes were closed now while he devoured you, but the look on his face spoke of how seriously he took the task, rolling his tongue and working you in a way that made your eyelids flutter and a choke catch in your throat.

But then there came a knock at the door.  

It was Sasha, and thank god she didn’t try the doorknob because you hadn’t locked it in your frenzy to get on Eddie’s joystick.  . 

“Coming!” You shouted nervously, dropping to your feet, stepping into your underwear and then your overalls.  

Eddie sucked in his bottom lip, licking what was left of you from his mouth.  He caught your elbow as you were fastening the second clip.  “Can we finish this later?”

The way he asked it was almost shy, as if his face hadn’t just been between your thighs.  Meanwhile, your engorged pussy was soaking your underwear, begging to be finished.  You saw that his chin was still wet from your arousal and whisked some of it away with your thumb.

He bent to let his lips graze at your ear as he closed his robe. “I like the way you taste.”

Back out on the floor, you let Sasha know that Eddie was talking your ear off about something, but that he would be out any second.  Sasha and June exchanged a look, mostly in regards to the way the straps of your overalls were all twisted and buttoned wrong, but neither one of them addressed it.

When Eddie came out and took his robe off again, he was hard, rolling his big hand around the head a few more times as he got on the prop bed that was there for the next set.  There was a model named Cindy in lingerie there to be in the shots with him, and you felt a jealousy rise in you that didn’t make any sense.  It rose so hot in your gut while their mouths hovered inches apart, pretending they were about to kiss, that you had to look away.  Every so often, he’d glance over at you while he had his cock in his hand, determined to keep the beast hard, and you wondered if he was thinking about having his tongue inside of you.

Because, you were definitely thinking about it.  You took a little private time around the corner just to touch yourself through your denim, working your fingers at your core, wondering if you should just finish yourself off and be done with it just as Sasha finally called for another smoke break.

You tried not to be too obvious, casually strolling back to Eddie’s dressing room, making sure the model Cindy was comfortable and fetching her the sparkling water she asked for while Love Bites by Judas Priest played on the radio.

Eddie was already in there waiting, yanking you inside by the wrist so he could lock the door, planting hot, hungry kisses down along your neck. 

You dropped your overalls like they were on fire, caressing his hard length in a way that made him moan. “I need you so fucking bad,” you breathed, pulling your tank top up and over your head so that you could be flush with his skin, to feel the ridges of his scars.  “That last set was almost two hours,” you were still talking as he backed you further into the room.  “How is your cock still hard?”

His fingers slipped down through your folds and he hissed at the way you were dripping.  “Just the thought of this, sweetheart.”

There was a floral couch against the wall and when your calves met with it, you plopped down into the cushion and Eddie followed, knees to the wood floor, wrapping his arm around your thighs to take your sweet bud into his mouth again, teasing it with his nose first.

“Fuck fuck Eddie, I’m already so close,” you took a fistful of his beautiful hair, careful not to mess it up too bad and bucked against his mouth.  “You’re so good, I love it when your tongue fucks me.”

Your hole was clenching around nothing, needing more, and that was when two of his fingers slid in, the ones with the chunky metal rings, they stretched you out suddenly, making you curse with pleasure.  Eddie zig-zagged his tongue rapid fire over  your clit, groaning at the way your hole gripped his fingers.  His cock was leaking pre-cum and he thrust his hips into the couch as he felt your walls begin to ripple.

“Fuck Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum…so hard….” the orgasm seemed to snap your body in two, pulsing a waves of pleasure up your spine, making your mouth freeze open on a sharp inhale.  And then you were babbling, “cummincumming so hard, Eddie!”

“Turn over,” he demanded in a deep voice once you were able to catch your breath.  “I need to clean you up.”.

And so you got on your knees facing the wall and held onto the back of the couch, trembling at the way he spread your cheeks and lapped you up all along your drenched slit.

“We’re ready if you are!” Sasha called from out in the studio making you spin around.

“Oh shit,” you breathed, looking down at how swollen and ready his cock was.  “I can’t leave you like this.”

“I can wait, sweetheart,” he mumbled, standing to pull his robe back on and offer you his hand, tossing his hair back over his shoulder.

By the time the photo shoot was over, Eddie would’ve been edging his release for over 4 hours, and he didn’t seem phased at all about it.

It was time for the handcuffs again.  Eddie wanted a cigarette, and Sasha encouraged him to have it in a seat by the window and she’d get a few shots of him there.  He held his wrists close together in front of him while you secured the cool metal, his chocolate orbs fixed on your face.  He liked how your fingers quivered as you cuffed him, and his erection had finally softened enough to not be obnoxious, but it was still making your mouth dry up with desire.

He wanted to light the cigarette himself, so you passed him the lighter.  He spread his legs, hitching one heel up on the leg of the chair, exposing the patch of hair at the base of his cock and around his balls 

“That’s perfect,” Sasha told him, finger tapping on the shutter button, producing a blast of fast clicks..  

You glanced up at the clock, knowing your time with Eddie would be over soon.  Cindy the model could’ve gone home, but she’d decided to stay and wait to watch the rest of Eddie’s shoot, her eyes sparkling with lust.  Maybe she would be the one to get Eddie off and not you.  She was physically more what you assumed his “type” would be since, in your mind, all rock stars were the same.

You didn’t have to wonder for long which woman he’d rather fuck, because he was eyeballing you from across the room as he put his robe on and said a few last words to Sasha.  The dressing room door was hidden around the corner and down the hall, but you decided not to follow him straight in like you had the last two times; your carnal needs were making you sloppy.  This time, you went out into the stairwell to the back entrance and knocked, hoping he would get the hint because it only opened from the inside.  Eddie pushed it open with a hard metal clank, and then your hands were in his hair, and wordlessly the two of you fell into each other.  He was doing the work of unfastening your overalls while you were coherent enough to ask about condoms and he presented a string of them out of the pocket of his robe.

“You came prepared,” you stumbled over your clothes, yanking your shirt off as you went.

“Nah,” Eddie cocked his head.  “I had my gofer bring me these.  The guy is quick.” 

“How do you want me?” You kissed down his chest, flicking his one salty nipple with your tongue, making him groan.

He ripped one of the condoms off the pack and tore it open with his teeth, and then spat the paper edge out.  “I need to be able to see your face,” he crashed his nose against yours diving in for another kiss.

“Sit,” you told him, urging him back into the wooden chair in the corner of the room.  It was right next to a full length mirror so he could watch you fuck him from the side if he wanted to. There were no arms on the chair, and he complied, licking his lips, eager for whatever you had in mind while he rolled the condom on.

You kicked  your leg over him like you were mounting your motorcycle and sat your hungry, soaking hole down on the tip of his cock.  Eddie took hold of your hips and guided you down, releasing one long moan as you went.  You whined, coming down flush with his lap, his cock stretching you out in a way no one ever had before, settling yourself first before you began to move.  You pushed up from the balls of your feet, riding him, and Eddie clamped a hand onto each of your ass cheeks, creating a rhythm, using his strong arms to help lift and lower you.

Your foreheads came together as you moved, hard nipples grazing his chest. You watched him grit his teeth and gasp.  “Damn, you’re so tight.  I’m close, I’m so fucking…close,” he bit out.  

Your clit rubbed against his patch of hair as you worked, and it wasn’t long before you began to hiccup with the contraction of your own release.  Never in your life had you cum this soon and this close together.  “You’re gonna make me cum again, oh my god.”

“Yeah?” He pulled his head back.  “Look at me.”

You met his eyes as you bounced, his hips snapping up to meet you every time you bottomed out.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly, finding the yearning in his stare too much to handle.  “Like, right now, right…fuck, Eddie I’m cumming!” Your head dropped to his shoulder while the tremors rolled through you, walls squeezing his cock, making his toes curl and his hips jerk erratically, the chair legs squeaking from his weight.

He held you flush to him, his release hot and plentiful; so much so, he might’ve worried about the integrity of the condom if he hadn’t been so pussy drunk on the way your hole was still clenching him like a fist.  You locked your chest to his and he caged you with his arms, locking you there.

Your knees threatened to turn to butter and betray you as you dismounted the ride of your life, both of you finding the footing to scramble around and retrieve your clothes. Eddie could stay in the dressing room as long as he wanted, but you? You were only a shell of the employee you normally were that day and you feared that Sasha was probably coming to look for you at that moment, ready to tell you to take a hike.

Eddie pulled his shirt down over his head, adjusting it over his jeans and flipped his hair from out of the collar. You snapped the first buckle on your overalls and gave him a tilt of your head. “Hey stranger, I almost didn’t recognize you with clothes on,” and then you fixed yourself in the mirror quickly before planting one more kiss on him on your way to bolt for the door.

“Hey, wait,” he called out, making you turn around. “Is that it? This is goodbye?”

Eddie Munson was a beautiful rockstar. Eddie Munson was in music videos on MTV. Eddie Munson could have any woman he wanted in the world, single or taken, and so no---you hadn’t expected more to come from this. You thought maybe he had a new fuck for every day of the week and you just happened to fall into his lap at the right time when he was bored and had some time to kill.

“Did you need anything else?” You asked it in your professional assistant voice, your work voice, and put your hands in your pockets to patiently wait.

He sat down on the couch to put his Converse on, absorbed in his task as he spoke to you. “My hotel is just up the street. Are you busy tonight? We could have dinner. Anything you want, my guys will get it for us.”

“I’m busy tonight,” you lied.

“What about tomorrow?” He pushed, tying the next shoe. “I wanna hear more about this small town you grew up in. I’ve really been missing home lately.”

You softened. “I refuse to believe you are anything but a spoiled city boy.”

He stood to his full height, stretching his chest, and hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, giving you a shrug and a familiar smirk. “Just think about all the ways I could prove you wrong if you came to hang out with me tonight. I might even surprise you.”

You got all awkward for a bit, fighting with yourself over why you weren’t on your knees begging for this man. Regardless of your silence, he found an old receipt for a tin of mini mart pretzels in his pocket and wrote his room number and hotel on it.

Passing it to you pinched between his two fingers, he added without meeting your gaze, “I’d really like to see you again.”

But then Sasha was calling for you, needing help with equipment, and you were scurrying out of the room with your heart in your throat.

You paused with your hand on the doorknob. “Crab Rangoon?”

Eddie scoffed. “What did you call me?” He was jutting his arms up into the sleeves of his leather jacket when you favored him a glance over you shoulder.

You swiveled to face him and made a circular gesture with your hand as if the implication was universally understood. “If there happens to be some crab Rangoon at your hotel tonight, I will stop by.”

Eddie’s face was blank, totally unreadable for a few seconds, and then a smile teased at the corners of his mouth, crept across his face, and jumped to his eyes. He gave a nod, “crab Rangoon it is then.”

---------

[mimimui]

okay bllk boys as your not so bf was so good BUT IF you are willing to, could you do a sequel where reader either distances themselves or something along those lines

distance (doesn't) make the heart grow fonder (blue lock)

[ first part ] wherein you distance yourself from (character).

includes: isagi, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, rin

tags: one-sided, use of profanity, angst if you squint hard enough, boys annoyingly oblivious to reader's feelings, not proofread

a/n: (again) inspired by my not-so bf. i know the longing and mixed signals all too well :p this request has been collecting dust in my ask box but living rent-free in my head so .. enjoy !

you were always the one initiating conversations with isagi. not like you minded though, as long as you got to talk to him, you were happy. you can remember the first conversation you had with him as clear as day—you asked him which page the assignment was. you thought it was an absolutely brilliant plan to start talking to him regularly. it worked, obviously.

but then you noticed how dry his messages were. when you sent him three or four, he would reply back with one. isagi wasn't usually like this, no, he would return your energy all the time. it didn't bother you at first because you know he's busy with his sports, but his disinterest was getting more apparent.

you thought you were a bother to him; you thought you were annoying him, so you slowly stopped talking to him until neither of you spoke to each other at all. you stopped greeting him when you saw him, and you always saw his indifferent facial expression. uncaring, unconcerned.

it's like he forgot all about the conversations you shared. had he suddenly forgotten how close you two were? had he never cared about you? bullshit.

you waited for bachira to put his arm over your shoulders like he usually does, but he didn't today. you brushed it off, maybe he just wasn't feeling clingy yet. bachira always is touching you one way or another when you're together, but he suddenly stopped doing it.

you found it weird when he quickly retracted his hand from you when yours brushed against his. you also found it weird when he was suddenly leaning away from you in class, rather than leaning towards you. it was really weird when he was purposely standing far away from you. no matter how much you tried to get close, he would just move.

saying this only hurt you a bit was an understatement. of course it hurt you a lot, why was bachira suddenly ignoring you? you don't recall doing anything wrong or making anything awkward, so it's uncharacterisitc for him to be so... distant from you.

you decided to do the same. ignore him, distance yourself from him, and stop talking to him. you don't even know if he still considers you a friend.

chigiri slowly stopped asking to borrow your things. you didn't see anything wrong with it, but when you see him borrow things from other people, you feel a bit off about it. you thought it was stupid to feel this way—why is your heart sinking when you see him go up to someone else when he needs something?

you always gave him what he needed. you were always there when he needed something, and you were always happy to help. you loved helping him, actually. the smile he gives you when you let him borrow something is something you treasure.

it shouldn't hurt to see him borrow things from other people, it feels stupid to act this way. but you can't help it. you wouldn't be bothered by it, but the way he also stopped talking to you is what irks you the most. 'okay, you don't need to borrow my things anymore, but at least talk to me?' you think.

chigiri always gave back the things he borrowed from you safe and sound. the only thing he's ever stolen was your heart, and you're afraid he'll return it broken.

you sigh once again as you wait for nagi to go online on the game you two agreed to play together. he said he was going to go on soon, but it's been an hour, and you're bored out of your mind. you message him once more, hoping he'll reply this time. your smile drops as soon as you see his message: "can we play next time? im tired"

there was in fact no 'next time', because you haven't played a game with nagi in forever. every time you ask him to play with you, he will always reject you. he isn't the kind of person to decline a game invite, so you thought it was weird for him to suddenly be tired of playing video games.

games aren't as fun to play when you're alone. but nagi isn't joining you, so you just don't play at all. you were only ever excited to play because he was with you. when you see him online, you're quick to open the in-game chat, but then you notice he's playing with someone else.

it shouldn't bother you, really, but it's funny that you closed your game and went offline. you haven't played that game since.

you understand that reo was a busy person, but you never thought he'd get busy to the point where he no longer has time to spend with you. before, he'd always put in the effort to make time for you, no matter what. but it seems he's forgotten about your planned hangout again because he didn't show up.

the barista gave you a free drink and tried to give you words of encouragement, but you were quick to thank and dismiss them. you left the cafe that day wondering if you meant anything special to reo. he's always treated you differently than others, that's for sure. but did it ever actually mean anything?

you stare at the opened delivery app on your phone, debating on whether or not you should disconnect his online payment from your account. i mean, it's not like you mean anything to him anymore, so it's wrong to use his money.

you sighed as you reconnected your own account, ordering your usual. that was the last connection you had to reo.

you knew rin didn't prioritize relationships. hell, it wasn't on his priority list at all. but you had a glimmer of hope inside that maybe, just maybe, he thinks about you in that way. that maybe because of you, he'll consider being in a relationship.

you knew you and rin were not just friends. friends don't do the things you two do. so when you two flirt, you feel giddy. you thought that rin meant something more with his flirtatious actions, but when he calls you 'just a friend', your stomach drops.

he shares with you that he enjoys flirting for fun, and meaning nothing of it. of course he doesn't talk about you directly, but that's what it feels like. rin says it as if he's sharing a fun fact about himself, even feeling proud of it.

he notices your expression and asks why you look like that. you say it's nothing. nothing, just like what you are to him.

thanks for reading (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[another-lost-mc]

hiii could i request how you think the characters with reptile like demon forms would react to an mc that's really scared of snakes? (we get a lot of wild venomous ones where i live and I've been terrified of them since i was little)

like for example if either levi or barbatos tails suddenly touched my leg without warning id probably jump out of my skin thinking it was a snake crawling up my leg and then id have to apologise profusely because i wouldn't want to hurt their feelings 😭

pet snakes are fine as long as like. they're in their enclosure or im not touching them, id probably think henry 1.0 was cool to watch in his enclosure but would be too scared to hold him so i feel like levi would not like me for a bit </3 barbatos might be understanding since he's scared of rats

A/N: I've always pictured Mephisto with a tail seeing how the RAD sports event played out in Lesson 68, so I'm including him in this.

LEVIATHAN, BARBATOS and MEPHISTOPHELES

0.6k words | SFW | gn!Reader

Warnings: anxiety, insecurities, developing relationships (romantic or platonic in nature, your choice).

You inform them right from the start, "I have a fear/phobia of snakes," but some of the demons hear, "I don't like snakes." They might not understand what the big deal is or take it seriously. Okay, sure, the Devildom serpents might be a bit bigger or deadlier than their human world counterparts, but it's not like they'll let you get eaten or anything!

When you first arrive, the ones with reptilian tails sort of glance at their tails and back to you and shrug. What are the chances you'll see their real forms very often, let alone be in a position where you might actually touch them?

Levi is the first one to scoff and act like you and his tail have zero business being near each other. Fast forward to a few weeks later when you're both asleep in his tub after watching a streamer marathon on DevilTube. He's not sure how it happened but he shifted into his demon form during the night—at least partially—and woke up to you screaming and scrambling from the tub. It's not his fault his tail ended up curled around your leg! (Wait, why did it do that?) That's not important! He tries to blame you at first for being scared to begin with, then he blames himself for being even more disgusting and off-putting to you. He's going to feel embarrassed and a bit guilty about it, but it's going to take a while to get him calm enough to have an actual discussion about what happened. He'll be nervous sharing a tub with you after that because he can't promise it won't happen again, but he really likes cuddling with you...maybe he can put a body pillow between you? He'll brainstorm ideas to try and keep the accidental tail-wrapping to a minimum, and if he does go into his demon form on purpose, he's careful to keep it away from you.

Barbatos has even less reason to believe that you'll have any reason to come into contact with his tail. He doesn't like it when others touch his tail on the best days, and he trusts that you can keep your hands to yourself. He's very conscious about what his winged horns and tail are up to when he's carrying out duties in his true form. You've walked together before without any issues, and he makes sure that his tail flicks away from you to avoid any mishaps. He can't explain what happened the day you were walking through the Demon Lord's castle together. You yelled suddenly and he thought you saw a rat with how upset you sounded. He's not sure why one of the forks of his tail tried to slither around your wrist. (Later on he'll ruminate about how that was even possible—he should've caught himself before that even happened.) He apologizes profusely and masks his own embarrassment over the incident. He might avoid using his true form around you for a while after that to ensure it doesn't happen again.

Mephisto sees your issues with reptiles as something you need to deal with, and it doesn't concern him at all. It's not like he plans on spending more time around you than necessary, and certainly not in his true form. If that means seeing even less of you so you can avoid him, even better. Later, after he's eaten his words and you're almost friendly, you finally see his tail. It's not as long or scaly as Levi's, and it's not...wet...like Barbatos', but it's still snake-ish enough to give you goosebumps the first time you see it. He stands a few paces away from you, his true form on full display, but there's something vulnerable in his eyes even though he keeps his head tipped up defiantly. He braces himself for disgust or fear and he's not sure why anxiety gnaws in his gut when he waits for your approval. It's a positive sign that you don't run from the Newspaper Club office in terror. You offer him a smile to let him know you're fine if he wants to stay that way since you trust him to keep his parts away from you. (He lets out a deep breath he didn't realize he was holding when you turn away to continue sorting documents, and he remains in his true form—to help you get used to it, obviously.)

[rizsu]

cherry balms gojo, nanami, geto.

sum. ex bf gojo, ceo nanami + one night stand geto. zzz not proofread sry !!

gojo satoru.

“literally why are you sneaking around?” gojo questions. although he's basically crashing in your house, he still finds it odd that you're acting as if he hasn't seen above and beyond from you. his eyes trace your figure, he engraves every detail in his mind—almost as if he's slowly forgetting and doesn't want to.

gojo leans back onto the bed's frame, hands folded behind his head with one leg up. if you were to be honest, he looks devourable—if it's even a proper word. he's sporting a fitted black t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and a silver chain. a fit that'll make anyone drop; simple yet defines.

you waddle to your closet, careful to not slip on the water dripping from your body. yeah, you just finished your bath and would've changed your clothes right in your room, but someone decided to welcome himself. piling your outfit on your arm, you grab your phone from the bed and waddle back to the bathroom.

well, that was the plan but yet again gojo had other plans. one swift movement of his hand (lightly) gripping on your robe and you're pulled right back down to his level.

“do you need something!?!?” “you maybe. i dunno.”

.

.

.

oh okay! you think, not sure if you should act surprised or if you should bite his arm to set you free. either way, it's not like he'd react. after all, he's been your (ex) boyfriend for more than two-three years. he knows you.

gojo doesn't let you go—in fact, he uses the same hand to wrap it around your waist and keeps it there. surely enough simple touches between exes are fine right..? maybe it isn't. who knows and who cares? not him!

even though your break-up was mutual, it didn't fail to leave a salty taste in gojo. he's good at masking his negative feelings but sometimes, that barrier is broken and he has no proper/healthy way to deal with it. approximately two weeks after the break-up, gojo tried flings, one night stands, hook ups, and even dates but they all failed after he reveal his longest relationship being two-three years. absolutely no one wants to compete with someone who was practically his soulmate.

“SA-TO-RU!” a call of his name along with slap on the arm shakes gojo from his thoughts. apparently, he's been zoning out while staring directly at you without blinking which creeped you out. you know better than anyone that when gojo zones out, he zones out. it's like having the eyes of god spawn in front of you without warning.

gojo ruffles his hair, redirecting any out of place hair strand back to its position. sighing, he looks at you before speaking his mind, “let me kiss you.”

now it's your turn to sigh. eons of knowing gojo and you still manage to react to his shameless requests.

nanami kento.

“okay, can i change first at least??”

“no, thanks.”

“what do you mean “thanks”!?”

busy and boring. that's it. those are the only words that can describe office worker life. you agree, it's nice to work for a large corporation as their advisor but it's so boring. you can't stress enough how many times you forced your eyes to stay open. the time can be two hours into work and here you are, opening your eyes with your fingers to not succumb to the creeping slumber.

stretching your body, you let out a yawn before fixing all documents to deliver for your boss. every day you thank god that your boss isn't some old man that's impatient. your boss, nanami kento, likes punctuality but he gives a grace period of one day. anything later than a day results in extra work and payment cut.

throughout the long hallway, the clacks of your heels can be heard but you don't mind; it's actually a nice sound. makes you feel like a true professional. standing in front the door that reads ‘Nanami Kento: Official C.E.O’ in a gold plated sign, you knock twice while speaking your name, “y/n l/n here, boss.”

no more than thirty seconds later, nanami orders you to enter as he says his goodbyes to some random that you assume to be a business partner. gesturing you to come closer, nanami folds his glasses into his shirt as he spins a pen on his hand.

“i take it you're finished with the documents?” he assumes, glancing at you before his gaze returns to the stacks of paper on his desk.

marking every fifth booklet with your fingers, you neatly place them on the less crowded side of his desk, “yes. they're all signed too, boss.”

clicking his pen, nanami praises your work with a little “good job.” and signs off his last signature needed for the day. placing his pen in its holder, he reclines back into his chair with a moan of relief. the feeling of his back getting some support will never not be good.

you awkwardly stand in your position, hands clasped together behind your back as you await his next instructions. luckily for you, he never delays anything.

“sit here,” nanami taps his lap twice. he watches you hesitate before you make any movement towards him. closing his eyes, he leans his head back into his chair, stretching it to the left and right. nanami feels your weight shifted to the edge of his knee—yeah, he doesn't like that. why are you closer to his desk than you are to him?!

“i said here, y/n” “my bad..”

shifting closer to him, you get close enough to sink your head in the junction of his shoulder to neck. just close enough so that you don't need to rest your entire upper body on him.

“if i'm going to be honest, this feels so wrong.”

nanami hums at your sentence. with his head is still resting on his chair, he questions you, “how so?”

you fiddle with your fingers—you can't quite put it into words. there's something about it that feels taboo but it's not. this overthinking can possibly be the side effects of indulging in too many drama t.v. shows.

“i dunno.. it just does? not really but yeah.” “quit overthinking.”

although he's holding a neutral expression, nanami's smiling at your worry. he thinks it's actually the dumbest thing to worry about but he'll keep it to himself.

“you're here because i want you here. also, you're a talented woman.” he reassures you, squeezing your thigh with one hand in an automatic rhythm.

geto suguru.

geto enjoys the sweet dream he's having. after a long night, all he needed was a nice shower, one or two cigarettes, and sleep. twisting and turning, he relishes in the soft sheets until his hand accidently slaps something—most likely your face. his hand halts in its position as he sits up sharply at a perfect ninety degree angle. who the fuck, he wonders, looking at you who's also enjoying a good sleep even after that slap.

it takes geto about ten minutes to function his brain's thinking ability and remember what took place before he knocked out cold. oh right, he thinks. he remembers meeting you at some club, offering to take you to his and the rest is history. surprisingly, that was out of character for him. as much as he flirts and makes out like his fellow friends, he's never gone more than a make out session.

taking a big yawn, geto runs his hand up and down his torso before concluding that he should go back to sleep. slamming his head down, he reaches for your waist and pulls (drags) you close enough so that your back's directly on his torso. if he can't hug his pillow because you stole it, he'll simply hug you.

with a leg thrown over you, one hand comfortably resting on your upper body as the other's under his head, geto sinks back into slumberland with you. he's going to keep you there until he wakes up again—whatever happens before that is not his business.

[giorno-plays-piano]

The Lovers That Went Wrong

Pairing: psycho!Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings: soft!yandere, kidnapping, threats, non-consensual confinement, manipulation, allusion to noncon, hurt/comfort.

Words: 2.4k

Summary: You flinch involuntarily as you watch him open the door to your room and take a cautious step inside as if he's keeping a dangerous animal as a pet, not a whole other human being. His eyes light up at the sight of you immediately when he sees you at the very same spot where he left you in the morning, still chained, no signs of misbehaving like throwing things around and destroying the furniture. You're not the type.

P.S. Our reader is safe and sound, no physical harm whatsoever.

P.P.S. It's not me, it's those yandere ASMRs on Youtube!

_________

He's here.

You've heard the key turning in the lock. Then, one more key in one more lock. Finally, the third lock has been opened, and then he goes to unlatch the second door before you hear him step inside, carrying something.

Is he going to kill you today?

Trying not to move, you take a shaky breath, eyes on the door. He's going to come in any second, and you don't know how to act to keep him happy. Is there a way to keep someone like him content at all? He's... not normal, that's for sure. Even if you smile and pretend to be fine, chained to his bed with so little room to move left you can't even reach the door, you think he'll see right through it and become angry at you for lying.

Not that ignoring or, god, getting angry at him gonna work either. If anything, making him mad at you is probably the most stupid option you can choose. So you don't. Albeit you wouldn't have the courage for that even if it did change anything for the better.

"I'm home."

You flinch involuntarily as you watch him open the door to your room and take a cautious step inside as if he's keeping a dangerous animal as a pet, not a whole other human being. His eyes light up at the sight of you immediately when he sees you at the very same spot where he left you in the morning, still chained, no signs of misbehaving like throwing things around and destroying the furniture. You're not the type. You're the type to sit and shake in the corner and cry till you feel like your head will explode.

"Hello," you murmur quietly, showing neither anger nor happiness at his return. Keeping the most neutral expression at times when you feel like a rabbit in front of a snake is torture, but better this than having him turn psychotic again.

He smiles at you, exhaling loudly like he was worried you'd start messing things up in his absence. "I see you've been good. That's nice. Thank you."

Nodding, you make yourself eat your words about all anxiety and fear you've had to endure today just to stay sane and stop crying. Being good, huh? Does he have any idea what it feels like to be locked in an apartment of someone who threatened to kill your classmates if you didn't go with him? What it felt like when he had pulled out a knife out of his backpack with a manic gleam right in front of your face and said he needed you to come with him if you didn't want anyone hurt?

You still don't understand how everything happened out of the blue. Aemond... never seemed unstable. He was quiet, sure, and he didn't hang out with other classmates much, but neither did you. He often sat at the back of the classroom, listening to professors with a blank look on his face, and seemed to slack off, then somehow miraculously pass the exams. You've never seen him doing anything special like playing sports or taking part in any university activity. He was just a quiet loner who didn't seem to enjoy studying. At one point, you thought he would drop out or change his major, but he didn't. After more than 3 years, he was still there, at the back of the classroom, sitting with a blank expression as the professors preached about the importance of the thesis for your successfull graduation and future work life.

Then, one day, he just walked up to you after the last lesson had finished while you were gathering your stuff and asked you to stay behind for a short talk. He said he needed to tell you something important. Considering you had spoken maybe five words to him throughout the whole year, you had no clue what he wanted to say, but maybe he needed help or something? You have always been good at studying, so, perhaps, he just needed your advice on his thesis.

He didn't.

Instead, he confessed he liked you and that he was concerned you were going to date someone else from your class - he gave you names of several students you had never even hanged out with - and then he pulled a huge, sharp knife out of his backpack. When you panicked, he grabbed your hand and whispered with that crazed look on his face that he would go and stab your classmates hanging out in the hallway if you didn't go with him.

So you did. You let him take you away, shaking at the thought that he put a knife in the large sewn-in picket inside his heavy bomber, ready to take it the moment you went back on your promise. He was going to stab someone, wasn't he? Given his height and strength, he might have even murdered someone. All because you refused to go with him.

When you think of it now, you wonder what would have happened if you attracted the attention of someone's on the way. Would Aemond really stab them with a knife, given the psychotic state he was in? Would he put a knife through your stomach? Or was it just bluff, and he'd drop the knife and run away, never to bother you again?

You'll never know now. You were so concerned about someone getting hurt you ended up in the apartment of a psychopath with your leg chained to his bed. It seems surreal, like it's all one big prank that's been going for far too long.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," he says, placing a plastic bag with what smells like pasta or lasagna on a little table next to the door. "Work has been hectic, but I'm cutting down my hours to spend more time with you, so you don't have to worry."

You nod, trying not to tremble like a leaf. Spending more time with you? Great. He will kill you soon once he has enough. Don't this kind of guys always do that? They catch their prey, have fun, and then finish them off only to fixate on somebody else again.

That's what's going to happen to you.

"I'll go take a shower real quick, alright?" He asks as if your opinion actually matters, walking by the bed as you instantly move further away on the floor, your back bumping against the bed.

He pauses, turning to you fully as you bite down on your tongue not to let out a sound.

"What is it, baby?" He coos, getting down to you while you stare at your knees, afraid to lift your head and see him staring you in the face. "What happened?"

You flinch as he stretches his hand to you, and he has to pause for a second again before his palm gently lands on the top of your head. He doesn't beat you. Or, well, not yet. Despite him not hurting you within the two days you've been here, you expect him to get violent at one point. Psychos always are, right?

You mumble, worried you'll make him upset, "I'm sorry. It's nothing."

He sighs, to your horror, sitting down right in front of you. He smells like coffee and French fries, and you bite down on your lower lip, remembering he works at some café. Like other people, he has a life outside of this stuffy and yet nearly empty apartment, and in this moment, it seems so strange. That someone like him smells like another human being.

"Are you scared?" He asks in a hushed voice, careful and calm like some sort of therapist. "Is that it?"

Despite all your attempts, you feel like you will cry if he touches you again. Your throat is tight, and you can't speak, so you just nod again, head bowed so you can't see his face.

He sighs again, and you hear him shifting, crawling closer to you like a spider as you squeeze your eyes shut. Will he hit you? Rape you? Do something worse? It's only logical to suppose that. In the end, that's what they do in the movies, don't they? Since Aemond is clearly insane, that's what he'll do to you.

But then, when he sits next to you with his back pressed against the bed's leg, you feel his hands on your shoulder nudging you tenderly towards him, and you don't fight him when he makes you put your head on his chest. Today he wears a long, soft black hoodie that smells like fries, too. It's nice to the touch.

"It's alright," he whispers, making you lean onto him until you are nearly on top of him while he caresses your head. "I know it's sudden for you. You probably don't even know who I am, and then I just come and confess to you like that. It's unfair, I know. I'm sorry I couldn't wait a bit longer."

Yeah, as if it's the problem.

But you don't say anything, eyes closed, as you freeze against his hoodie.

"But, you know, it got so much better. Today a customer splashed me with coffee and sad some really hurtful things, and I didn't even care," you can nearly sense him greening before he drops a quick kiss to the top of your head. "Because I was thinking of you. Waiting for me home, sleeping in my bed, wearing my clothes. I don't remember when anyone last waited me home, you know? And now there's you."

You feel his breath on your skin before he leaves a chaste kiss on your brow, and you curl into yourself even more.

"Thank you for being here with me. I know it wasn't easy for you to trust me, but you still did." He exhales slowly, probably tired after the day in the university and at work, his other hand resting on your back, caressing you through the thick tissue of his dark green sweatshirt he gave you this morning. "Thank you."

You're glad he can't see your face because you are ready to cry any second now. You are scared, and your legs hurt from staying in this position for too long, but Aemond's touch is still comforting, and you yearn someone's body warmth just to ground yourself in this moment to keep you sane.

You are so, so tired. You don't want to die. You want to believe the things he said, the promises he made to you, but he's mad, and so are you if you really want to trust him.

Minutes fly by. You have no idea how much time you spend in his arms, but Aemond seems content, arms still wrapped around you. What is he thinking now? What does he want to do to you? He didn't force himself on you yesterday, but he can tonight. It's just a matter of time, really. And when he finds it's enough, what's gonna happen then?

"Please, don't kill me," you mutter quietly in his chest, eyes squeezed shut.

Your voice startles him awake. Apparently, he was almost lulled to sleep, and now he bends his head towards you again, taking your face in his palms to make you look at him. "What was that? Baby?"

It's torture to open your eyes when his face is inches away from yours, but you do, and then you cry. "Please, don't kill me."

The next second, he opens his pretty blue eyes wide as if you've just slapped him, discomfort clear on his pretty face. What? Is he unhappy you ruined his idyllic evening? Why does he look at you so distressed?

He puts some distance between you two, hands on your shoulders while he looks at you as you're sniffing, tears running down your face. You can't stand it. How long do you have to play his sweetheart before he cuts you in pieces and puts your remains in black plastic bags to dump somewhere deserted? Will he kill you quickly? Will he taunt you and mock you for not even looking at him at university? Will he try to prolong your suffering with drugs?

He shakes when he starts to speak, "I've never wanted to kill you. Never. Why would you think that?"

You let out a laugh at that, hands grasping his black hoodie you like so much. Why would you think a guy who threatened to kill your classmates wouldn't cut you in pieces, too? You have been chained to his bed for two days. It's nice to still be able to go to the bathroom, but that's about it. You have only a couple of books he brought for you to keep you company when he's gone, and god knows how long it's all going to last.

His grip on you gets tighter. "I swear I've never wanted to hurt you. Why did you think that? It's the knife thing yesterday, right? You got scared because I said I'm gonna cut Josh and Matteo." He gets more frantic, and you feel like you're struggling to breathe. "But I wouldn't do that to you. No! I swear. I've never wanted to make you feel bad. And the chain... I-I'm sorry about the chain and everything, but I wasn't going to keep you like this forever! It's... it's just for a couple of months, you know? So you get to know me better. I'm never going to hurt you! You're not my pet to discipline you or something. You're... "

He realizes the state he's in and makes himself stop, lips pressed tightly as he waits, regaining his composure as he's awkwardly trying to wipe away your tears with his sleeve.

Making some small soft noises, he sighs again, rubbing the back of his neck before he's ready to speak. God, why do you want to believe him so badly? Why would anything he say make any sense at all? Why are you hoping he really won't do anything when you have just been kidnapped and imprisoned in his home?

When he speaks again, his soothing voice makes you want to hide your face in his hoodie despite all the things he's done. "I really, really like you, baby. I know it's not much, but it's true. You never have to worry about getting hurt again as long as you're with me. It's a promise."

He coos at you, craddling you in his lap, and you have no strength left to do anything but lean closer to him and hide your face in his soft hoodie.

__________

Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy

[padfootagain]

Black Dog Neighbour

Hi everyone ! Today, we’re answering a request made for my 6k followers event by @nobodyshomearchive : “hi hello lovely xxi have been hooked to your blog lately, and to say that is an understatement in all honesty. congratulations on 6k followers <33 so for your celebration can i get an enemies to lovers (ouh massive surprise 👀) with sirius black (preferably post azkaban but it's okay if you don't want to!) cause i'm literally so head over heels for that man. and i'm loving your something good series :) again, congrats and feel free to ignore the request if you don't feel like writing it/it doesn't hit your creative spot.

have a great day/night hun <;3”

Thank you so much for your request, and I hope you like this! I didn’t do post-azkaban Sirius, because he doesn’t exist in my brain. I have been in denial for so long, the Potters are living their best lives, didn’t you know?!

Anyway, still went for post-Hogwarts and post-war Sirius, simply didn’t include anything referencing to Azkaban or… anything canon compliant, to be fair. But as per usual for me when it comes to this character…

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Warnings: A small warning for an ex being an arse and showing up drunk on your doorstep (there’s nothing violent, but you do physically push him away, so heads up on that, just in case). But the rest’s cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute!!!

Summary: God, you hate that guy next door. Bloody annoying neighbour with his noisy motorcycle, his loud friends, his annoying laugh, his charming smile, his amazing hair, his effortless way to sport sexy leather jackets. He’s insufferable, you hate him to bits. The fact that he’s a talented wizard who can magically change into a dog to guard your door when your ex comes bothering you again will not change your first impression in the slightest, by the way. You still hate him to guts. Probably…

Word count: 4592

Sirius Black Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Sirius fucking Black.

Your neighbour, aka worst enemy, aka the person you despise the most on earth.

He is loud. He is annoyingly pretty. He is getting on your fucking nerves... again!

Of course, it is Friday night, which means that his stupid friends are over for a “boys’ night”. What a scam…

In consequence, you are currently casting sound-proofing spells all over your walls in an attempt to shush their idiotic laughs. And especially Sirius’s; his unmistakable bark-like laughter, loud and boisterous and absolutely prone to draw a grin from your face even if you don’t mean to. By Agrippa’s hat, you will soon either cut his throat or call for an auror. Or maybe you could burst into his apartment and shout into his face just so he can see how bloody annoying that is. Or kissing him to shut him up sounds like a plan, too…

You shake your head, grinning at your own genius idea. Sirius and his friends are being rudely loud again, when you have already told them a thousand times – which is to say every Friday for the last six months, since Sirius moved in the apartment next to yours – that the walls in this old building of Diagon Alley are too thin, that you can hear everything going on in Sirius’s apartment despite sound-proofing spells… and that they need to keep it down past 11pm because you have work the next day. The absolute dread of working in retails does not, by any means, spare the Wizards and Witches of this world…

You look through your apartment for the object that would make the most noise. You give a few items a try, but settle for the good old pan and spoon. Ha, what precious allies these two are, never failing you.

You add a little spell to amplify sounds – just for good measure – find some earplugs, and then proceed to bang the shit out of that pan, right by your common wall with Sirius’s apartment.

It goes on for five full minutes before you manage to catch the quietened sound of something against your door…

And sure enough, when you stop and take your earplugs out, someone is banging at your door.

“Y/N!” a voice that you easily recognize shouts. “STOP THIS FUCKING NOISE!”

You open the door wide, and have to bend to the side to avoid Sirius’s fist as it misses the door.

“Merlin! Sorry! You’re okay? I didn’t touch you, right?” Sirius asks with anger instantly replaced with worry.

“I have amazing reflexes.”

And anger is back into his dark grey eyes again...

“What the fuck are you doing in there?! Are you mental?!”

“I don’t know, Sirius. I didn’t notice anything over the cacophony of your friends shouting into my ears all night!”

His jaw clenches, and you hate yourself for noticing the trembling of the muscle there, and finding it terribly attractive…

“And you had to make all this ruckus instead of simply walking three meters to my door and nicely ask us to shut our mouths because…?”

“Because I’ve asked you dozens of times, this has been going on for fucking months, Sirius!”

He rolls his eyes, and Merlin do you want to punch him straight across the jaw… his very sharp, very pretty jaw…

“We’re just having a nice evening…”

“And I am trying to sleep!”

“It’s barely midnight!”

“I work tomorrow, you asshole!”

“Ermm… guys?”

“WHAT?!” you both exclaim, turning to face a shy-looking Remus.

“Sorry about the noise, Y/N. We’ll be more careful next time. We’ll leave for the evening.”

“You don’t have to leave…” Sirius complains, but James is already walking out, helping a drunk Peter to cross the corridor.

“It’s late, anyway. Lily’s gonna worry, I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago,” James argues, and Sirius has to yield.

“Alright, see you on Sunday, then!” he shoots his friends a grin, and the group waves at you.

You rudely ignore them, crossing your arms before your chest. And as Sirius turns back to you, his frown is icy and he quickly matches your stance.

“You’re such a pain in my ass, Y/N…”

“And you’re a jerk.”

“Asshole.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“You’re one to talk!”

“Oh, you talk plenty enough for both of us. And loudly so!”

Before he can reply, you’ve stepped back into your apartment and slammed the door.

You hear him pestering after you for a moment, then nothing, and finally a door slamming.

Well, that went well…

You are in trouble.

Big… huge trouble.

Your ex has just stepped into your shop, and you don’t know how to react.

You didn’t break up in a horrendous way, on the contrary! He wanted the two of you to remain friends, and you simply didn’t, worried that you wouldn’t be able to get over each other if you stayed in touch. And by the look he gave you as he stepped inside your shop ten minutes ago, and the many glances he’s thrown at you since, you’re pretty sure that you were right about this.

It's not like your relationship was terrible, by any means. Josh was nice, reliable, but also… not for you. You didn’t have much in common, at the end of the day, and if his personality and looks were nice, it was hard to build a lasting relationship on… nothing. It was for the best that you called it quits.

And as if your day needed any darkening, Sirius Black chooses this very moment to step into your shop. You don’t wait for him to aim for the counter to take out a large pouch in which you have gathered all the ingredients for his friend’s monthly brew. He smiles at the sight, moves towards you. And you hate yourself for the leap your heart makes as he comes closer.

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi.”

It’s the first time you speak to each other since the ‘spoon and pan incident’, and you both hesitate. How are you supposed to act now? Apologise for being petty and kind of a dick? Ask for his apology for being a dick? Act like nothing happened?

“Thanks for Remus’s stuff,” Sirius says, voice quieter than usual, gentle, asking for a truce.

Outside, it’s snowing, winter claiming the streets of London, and there are little snowflakes caught in Sirius’s hair. It looks lovely.

All of a sudden, you’re longing for some eggnog, and some pumpkin pie.

His fingers are cold when they meet yours, tips brushing over your knuckles as he picks up the bag, and you hate your own heart for stammering.

“No problem. You know the drill,” you tentatively smile, while Sirius hands you some silvery Sickles.

“I would also need pearl dust, please. Here’s the amount.”

He hands you a parchment with quantities written on it, four small packages to be prepared separately.

“How many hearts do you intend to break with so many love potions?” you joke, turning around to get to work.

The brass scale is set on a small table, pushed right against the wall, behind the counter. It is an easy task for a professional like you, measuring quickly while Sirius laughs.

“No one, thankfully,” he replied.

“Oh… some Amortentia, perhaps? Trying to figure out who your crush likes?”

“No… nothing like that. It’s the properties for invisibility that I’m looking for.”

“If you plan on breaking into Gringotts, I don’t want to know.”

Again, a loud laugh. And you wish you could hold back your smile, but you can’t, the sound is too infectious for that.

You’ve forgotten that your ex is here, you’re reminded of his presence only when you turn back towards Sirius and he’s standing right behind your tall neighbour, a bag of potion ingredients in his hands.

You avert your eyes, and Sirius frowns at the sight. He glances over his shoulder, spots your ex, but says nothing. You only notice how he tightens his hold on the pouch.

“Pearl dust’s quite expensive,” you tell him, handing him the phials, before announcing the price.

“That’s alright.”

He hands you the galleons, takes the vials, but doesn’t step away just yet.

“You… you’re okay?” he asks, and you’re not sure what to do with his expression. It’s somewhere between annoyance and genuine concern.

“Yeah, sure.”

He nods, like he’s disappointed. He’s not bringing up The Incident, and so you won’t either.

“Right, good day.”

He turns in a hurry, not waiting for your answer, but you notice the way he throws a look back before stepping out into the street, snow falling over his dark coat and dark hair again. You hate how your eyes linger on his frame until he’s out of sight, walking down the busy street, but you can’t help it…

“Hello, Y/N.”

You’re brought back to Earth as your ex speaks, and you turn to him, your smile turning from genuine to polite.

“Hi, Josh.”

“How are you?”

“Good! Do you need anything else?” you ask, pointing at the ingredients he’s put on the counter.

“Huh… no, nothing else.”

“That makes two Galleons, 5 Sickles and 3 Knuts, please.”

He hands you some money, and you hand him his change. You see him hesitating, before diving.

“Look, I… I came here hoping to see you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I… I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about what happened, and… Look, I know I could have done better when it came to us. And I thought… perhaps… if you were willing to give me another chance…”

“Josh…”

“Just… hear me out...”

“No. I’m sorry, but no. We… we were not compatible, that’s all. I like you, you’re nice, but… It won’t work between us.”

Slowly, he nodded, apparently defeated. And when another client cleared their throat behind him, he finally left.

What a mess of a morning…

It is Friday night, and the Marauders are keeping it down. You are surprised by it, but you can only praise these men for being, for once, well-behaved. 11:30, as you slip under the covers, ready for some well-deserved rest before waking up too early to open the shop in the morning. You are ready to fall into Morpheus’s arms and abandon yourself to slumber when someone knocks on your door.

You ignore the sound for a while, but it starts again, and again…

And you thought Sirius was making some efforts. You were ready to commit murder…

You stand up, grab a bathrobe and walk to the door, ready to throw hands with Sirius at this point. Only… only, when you actually open the door, it’s not Sirius who’s facing your wrath.

It’s Josh.

“What… What are you doing here?” you ask, too stunned to think about being polite. “It’s almost midnight.”

But then he looks up at you, and you notice at once that he’s been drinking. His eyes are glimmering, he sways slightly before finding back his balance…

“Josh…”

“Y/N, I… I know that now is not the time, but… please, give me another chance. Please…”

“Josh, we’ve talked about this. Us… it’s over. We’re not getting back together. I’m sorry.”

“But I can try and be better. I’ll be better, let me show you.”

You push him off when he staggers forward, trying to hold you.

“Josh! Stop it!” you raise your voice, trying to get him to let go.

“Please…”

“I said no! Get off!”

He’s finally letting go, but doesn’t take a step back. Instead, he leans against your doorframe, not stepping inside, but making it impossible for you to simply go back in and close the door.

“Josh! Go away! I’m sorry, but this is over between us. You have to leave me alone!”

“But I don’t want to! Y/N!”

“Hey!”

You’re both distracted by the new voice that comes shouting through the corridor. Sirius is standing before his front door, wearing a Queen t-shirt and some dark sweatpants, in what you guess his is nightly outfit. Still, when he comes nearer, hair tied in a bun, glowering, he looks intimidating, tattoos all over his arms on full display, traces of ink peeking above the collar of his t-shirt.

You think for a second that he’s going to make a scene because of how noisy you are right now, not ironic at all given his habits of messing your sleeping schedule, and you’re ready to get angry at him, because this truly is the last thing you need tonight, when…

“You leave her the fuck alone!”

You’re too stunned to react when Sirius comes to stand right by your side.

“She told you to fuck off, so you fuck off!”

“Who the fuck are you?” Josh replied, words a little slurred.

“Her boyfriend,” Sirius lies, but it works wonders, as Josh becomes suddenly very pale. “Now, you fuck off, or I’ll throw you out of the building.”

“You? With him?” Josh asks as he turns to you, and you feel pity for the pain in his eyes, but you don’t regret leaving him.

“Yeah. He’s my boyfriend. Now, please, Josh… leave me alone.”

But he shakes his head.

“I can’t. I can’t. I still love you…”

Sirius looks at you, but you shake your head.

“You have to leave me alone and move on.”

“No… I… I’ll come back later…”

Sirius notices your worry, it almost looks like fear, and he doesn’t hesitate when he grabs Josh by the collar.

“You listen to me now, dickhead,” Sirius growls, it’s almost animalistic, and you’re frozen by this threatening tone of his. “If you set a foot in this building again, if you go see her at her shop, if you so much as breathe in her direction or step in the street she’s in, I will come for you, and I will make sure you can never bother her again. Do you get that?”

“You’re bluffing.”

Sirius grins, something twisted and terribly dark, and even you shiver when he speaks again, voice low and terrible.

“I fought for the Order during the war. I’m a Black. Trust me, you don’t want to fuck with me.”

Slowly, Josh nods, struggling to swallow.

“So… will you leave her alone?”

Again, Josh nods.

“Good boy. Now get the fuck out of here.”

He’s barely released Josh that he’s sprinting down the stairs, stumbling and catching himself against the wall, before disappearing.

But you don’t see that. You’re staring at Sirius, and seem unable to look away.

“You’re alright?”

You’re startled by the softness Sirius’s voice is now wearing, such a stark contrast with the threatening tone he wore a minute ago.

“Y/N? You’re okay? He didn’t hurt you, right?”

“What? No… no, I’m fine! He just… showed up and I couldn’t get rid of him.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Thank you,” you whisper as he gets closer.

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, just… a little shaken, I think.”

Slowly, Sirius nods.

“Hey, no need to worry, okay? I’ll keep an eye out tonight. He won’t bother you again. And if he does, in the coming days or weeks, and I’m not around, then you come and tell me. I’ll give him a good fright, and he’ll leave you alone.”

“Thanks but… why would you do that for me? You hate me.”

Sirius chuckles at that, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t hate you. You’re annoying, but I don’t hate you.”

“Oh…”

His touch is infinitely gentle when he rests his hand on your arm.

“You can go back to sleep. Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again tonight. I promise.”

Slowly, you nod, a little too stunned to complain or argue or discuss what has just happened. Instead, you walk back to your apartment, lock the door, and go back to bed, thinking about the way Sirius’s hands looked gentle without his rings…

You’re in a hurry this morning. Your brain has not finished to process everything that has happened last night, but this will have to wait. You must rush to the shop, and you can’t find your bloody wand…

Ha! There! What is it doing under the couch? Never mind, you need to hurry, and you need to hurry now!

Only, when you open the front door, you almost trip onto a large black door sleeping on your threshold. A huge black dog, as a matter of fact.

“What in Merlin’s beard…?!”

His ears perk up at the sound of your voice, and he looks up at you with dark grey eyes that remind you of someone…

But it’s impossible, of course. That must be his dog, though. Since when does Sirius has a dog though?!

The animal slowly stands, a real giant, all dark fur and intimidating growls, until he’s shaken some sleep off its frame, and then he looks up at you, as if expecting a command.

“Hi,” you say, feeling foolish, but finding nothing better to say.

The dog merely comes closer, slowly, ears down in submission, as if he’s worried to scare you away. You hold out your hand, and he hurries to rub his snout into it, licking your fingers.

You giggle at the sensation.

“You look intimidating, but you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

He barks in agreement, and you give him scratches as a reward.

“Who do you belong to, huh? Are you Sirius’s dog?”

The dog merely licks your fingers again.

“You look the part, at least. You fit the motorcycle-and-leather-jackets aesthetic.”

A few scratches more, and you finally remember that you are running late…

“Shoot!”

You lock the door, hurry towards the stairs. But you stop the dog when he tries to follow.

“No, no, no! I’m going to work, you stay here. I’m sure Sirius will be back soon. You stay here.”

The dog blinks, but sits anyway, letting you go.

For the whole trip to the store, you wonder who this dog belongs to, and who would let him sleep outside like this. If he really did belong to Sirius, he would hear about this…

Your day is a weird one.

After arriving almost late, but not quite, you spend your morning being busy and running around the store looking for the right ingredients for various potions and clients. And yet, several times during your shift, you feel someone looking at you.

The first time, it’s Sirius, who’s squinting on the other side of the glass door. He looks away the second your eyes land on him, and you’re almost certain that he blushes, although you didn’t think it to be possible to make Sirius Black blush.

The second time, it’s the black dog again, who remains sitting by the door under the falling snow for about ten minutes before leaving.

The third time, it’s the dog again, you see him being petted by a customer as she walks out of the shop.

But if the dog belongs to Sirius, then you guess that he’s been around several times throughout the day, which seems odd. Also, you want to chastise him for leaving the animal alone in the cold for extended periods of time throughout the day. Is he heartless?!

So, as you go home that night, you leave your coat in your apartment before heading to Sirius’s.

He answers on the second knock.

“Oh! Hi, Y/N!” he grins a welcome at you. “Need anything?”

“Yeah… I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute.”

He merely nods, moving to let you inside.

You’ve been here a couple of times before, but you still appreciate the warm atmosphere of the large space that forms his living room. A huge Gryffindor flag is hung across the wall on the right, while windows let you see falling snow over the roofs of Diagon Alley on the opposite side of the room. A large chimney surrounded by comfortable armchairs and sofas, along with a soft red carpet seem to call for you.

“So? What can I do for you, Y/N?”

You turn to him again while he points at the sofa, silently inviting you to sit, but you remain standing. You cross your arms, and he frowns at the sight.

“Where’s your dog?”

Your tone is sharper now, and his frown only deepens, brows knitted together.

“My what?”

“Your dog. Huge. Black. Looks like he could bite my throat off.”

“I don’t have a dog.”

“Really? He’s been following me around all day. He was on my threshold this morning…”

“…Y/N…” he tries to interrupt you, but you don’t let him.

“No! Listen… Thank you for what you did last night. I was really… Thank you. Josh wouldn’t leave and you were most definitely helpful. But let’s be clear, I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself! I don’t need your protection or anything, got it?”

You wonder why he’s smiling now, but he is all the same.

“Got it. Was just trying to be helpful.”

“You were.”

“Good.”

“Good. But your good action doesn’t mean that I’m going to accept any harm coming to this cute dog of yours!”

“I thought he wanted to bite your throat off.”

“He looked like he could. He was pretty sweet, though.”

“Hmmm…”

“Anyway… what’s wrong with you!? Leaving him outside all night and then in the street while it was snowing!?”

“Y/N, relax. I don’t have a dog, let me explain.”

“Then whose dog is it? Cause we have to find his owner, I’m going to throw hands!”

Sirius laughs, his usual, bark-like laugh, and your puzzled by the sound. It resembles a bark even more than usual.

Sirius heaves a sigh, shakes his head, apparently hesitating, but eventually, he takes a step closer.

“You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this.”

“Why?”

“Because if you do, I might be arrested.”

Your eyes grow round.

Oh dear… the…

“…Potion. The potion! You’ve done something illegal with it!”

Sirius laughs again.

“The pearl dust you mean? It’s just a trick for my godson, for Christmas. How do you think the presents get under the tree without anyone carrying them in? The fellow is a rascal, standing watch all night to catch Santa red-handed. We need to get more and more creative each year. No, don’t worry, it’s nothing like that.”

“Oh… but then… what are you talking about?”

“Do you promise that you won’t tell?”

“Have you killed someone?”

“Of course not!”

“I don’t know, you were pretty… scary last night.”

“Did I scare you?”

“No… but Josh was ready to faint.”

He laughs again at that.

“I haven’t harmed anyone.”

“Okay… then, I promise.”

Sirius hesitates some more, before warning you not to freak out. You don’t have time to question him though, he’s already transforming into…

“… the black dog!”

You gasp at the sight, but you don’t back away when Sirius approaches under his animagus form. Instead, you reach out for him, giving him a few scratches between his ears, making him wiggle his tail happily.

“Oh wow… you’re an animagus! This is beautiful…”

He laughs as he changes back into human, the sound still somewhere close to a growl.

“Am I a good boy, then?” he teases, making you laugh. “No need to call for the animal welfare…”

“But… what were you doing around the shop today? And last night? Did you sleep on the porch?”

Sirius averts his eyes, and you have to double-check, but you’re certain that he is blushing right now.

“Ha, that… I didn’t mean to look like a creep or anything. But I… I was worried your ex would come back. Just wanted to check on you, ‘s all. I didn’t follow you around or anything! I just… went to check that you were alright at the shop a few times.”

“Why?”

He looks up at you with a slight frown, as if it is obvious, as if you’re stupid for not guessing.

“Because… I was worried about you.”

“About me?”

“Is it so surprising?”

“You hate me.”

“Again, I don’t hate you. You’re simply annoying the shit out of me. I like it, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

You blink, trying to make sense of all this, and Sirius looks at you with amusement.

“Is that why you were quiet last night? To not bother me?”

“Oh, the boys weren’t here. Busy week. We’ll be back at being insufferable next Friday.”

You roll your eyes at that, but Sirius laughs.

“I’m joking! I understand, okay? We’re too loud. We’ll keep it down from now on.”

“Right, okay…”

He bit his lip, ran a hand through his hair, in what you guess is shyness. God, you would have never thought to use this adjective to describe him. His rings catch the warm light of the fire burning in the hearth as he moves his fingers through his hair.

“Look, I… I’m sorry for the other night. Actually… for all the other nights. We’ll be more careful next time,” he says, and you raise an eyebrow in surprise.

You never thought you would hear an apology from him, even less so an earnest one, and yet…

“Thank you, Sirius. I’m sorry, too. It was petty and uncalled for.”

“No, you… you were right.”

He heaves a frustrated sigh, runs a hand through his long dark curls again, rebel strands falling before his eyes. You hold tightly onto the sleeve of your hoodie, refraining the sudden urge to push the curls away from his face, brush them behind his ear…

“Look, I… I don’t want us to be on bad terms,” Sirius goes on. “Could I make up for being a dickhead by buying you some fancy Christmas drink? My treat. As a token of good faith and a sign for peace in our building?”

He offers you his open palm, and you shake hands with a smile adorning both of your faces.

“Deal.”

“Any afternoon free this week?”

“Wednesday?”

“Then, I’ll buy you the fanciest cocoa I can find. And even some pumpkin pie, if you’re nice.”

“Sounds good.”

You’re reluctant to pull away but have to let go of his hand.

“Actually… scratch that,” Sirius shakes his head. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Your eyes grow round.

“A date? With you?”

“Yeah. On Wednesday?”

“But… with you?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You really think I play bodyguard for just anybody?”

You laugh at that, you can’t help it, even if you’re still quite stunned by the whole situation.

You weight your options, but then you look at him again, and the answer you want to give is obvious, even if he gets on your nerves all the bloody time…

“Okay. A date. On Wednesday.”

He grins, bright and infectious.

“Great! Awesome!”

“Great.”

“Great.”

You remain staring at each other for a moment, both of you trying to hide your excitement, until you finally clear your throat.

“I should…” you begin, pointing at the door.

“Sure… busy day?”

“You can’t imagine.”

“Hmm…”

You hurry towards the door, feeling overwhelmed by his nearness.

“See you on Wednesday then!” he calls after you as you reach for your own door.

“Sure! But it better be the best hot chocolate I’ve drunk, or I’ll ask for a refund!”

He laughs, and when you turn one last time towards him, Sirius is leaning against his doorframe, staring at you with a grin on his lips and mischief painted all over his features. He winks, and your heart skips several beats.

“Oh, don’t worry. You won’t regret this.”

*********************************

Taglist :

@reg-arcturus-black @hells-escapees @omgrachwrites

@wolfmoonmusic