#my palms are sweating rn as we speak.

[miukidoll]

time to check for any errors before i post the next profiles 🏃🏻

[froggibus]

Time of the Month - Choso Kamo

Pairing: Choso Kamo x gn! reader (tho reader menstruates and is able to get pregnant)

Genre: hurt/comfort fluff

Word Count: 930

Summary: Choso is distraught to wake up one night smelling your blood

CW: menstruation, talks of blood, awkward conversations, Choso panics a lil, established relationship, mostly hurt comforty

WE'RE SO BACK!! had this idea for a while but im so glad i finally wrote it. was VERY tempted to turn this into smut but ugh. anyways, enjoy guys!

(also!! we are doing a vote rn over what we wanna do for valentine's day, so if you're interested, vote here)

Choso smells blood when he wakes up. The coppery tinge floods his senses, invading his nose, resting on his tongue. He sits up straight and rubs at his arms. He can feel the pull of it tingling in his fingers as if speaking to him, beckoning him closer.

His head snaps to the bathroom door. Light streams through the crack under it, and it’s only then that he realizes you’re no longer in bed with him. The blood pulls him again—pulls him to the bathroom door. What’s happening? Are you bleeding?

He rubs the sleep from his eyes and forces himself to his feet, dragging them the whole way across the room. He swallows his panic, and knocks on the door softly. “Y/n, are you in there? Is everything okay?” 

Choso’s voice snaps you out of your daze. You push yourself away from the counter you were leaning against, immediately missing the pressure of the cool tile, and dry your hands on the towel. You’d snuck out of bed a little while ago when you started cramping, utterly disappointed to learn it was your time of the month once again. 

“I’ll be right out,” you call, voice strained from the ache in your abdomen. 

Choso frowns. Although he can’t see you, he knows something is wrong. The stench of blood still clouds his senses—and have you been crying? His thoughts race, thinking of all the ways you could be hurt in there.

He sighs and leans his head against the door. “Is something wrong?” 

You open and close your mouth, hoping for an explanation to come out, but all of your words have abandoned you. You know that there are gaps in Choso’s knowledge, especially regarding human reproduction, but you never quite know what to say to him. Especially now.

“Are you hurt?” He calls when you don’t answer. “I smell blood. Please just—talk to me.”

You cringe. Of course he does. You’ve seen him perform much more impressive feats with blood before, sensing it is juvenile to him. You clutch your stomach and gain your strength, breathing deeply.

“Y/n?”

You unlock the door, head hanging as you step into the bedroom. “I’m okay—”

Choso pounces on you before you can finish your sentence, cupping your face with both hands to examine you. His dark eyes dart across your body faster than you can register, his hands sliding down your sides. You relax in his grasp and offer no protest. 

He nods in satisfaction, leaving his hands on your hips. “You’re okay.” 

“I’m okay.”

“But,” the dark marks on his face crinkle in confusion, “you’re bleeding?”

You gently grab his hand and lead him to the bed with you. You’re not quite sure how to phrase it, but you’ll bear the awkwardness if it soothes his mind. Just as you sit down, you double over in pain from your cramps. 

You desperately press your hands against the aching muscles and squeeze your eyes shut to brace yourself. Choso tilts his head at you, concern flaring in his eyes.

He waits for you to recover before asking, “what’s going on? Talk to me, love.”

You cast your gaze to his lap, to the spot where his bare torso meets the waistband of his black sweats. You reach for one of his hands to trace over. His skin is nice and cool, perfectly grounding you as you draw circles over his palm. He eases under your touch but the concern never leaves his face.

“Don’t panic,” you say calmly. “I am bleeding, but it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“But—” He stops when you shoot him a serious look.

“It’s my period. It’s just something that happens every month. It’ll stop after about a week, but I promise it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“This happens to you every month?”

You nod solemnly. “Unless I get pregnant.”

Choso considers this. From what he knows about sex, it makes sense. That doesn’t mean he likes it, though, especially when you seem to be so uncomfortable with it.

“And it hurts?” He asks.

“Sometimes,” you say. “It comes in waves and on some days, it’s worse than others.”

He squeezes your hand reassuringly, the other trailing up your cheek. He lifts your head up until his eyes meet yours. “Can I do anything for you?”

You let out a breathy laugh. It’s touching, really, the lengths he’d go to make you feel better. You’re sure if he could, he’d try and use his technique on you if it meant you wouldn’t be in pain any longer.

“Can we just lay down? I’m exhausted.”

Eager to help, Choso helps you get settled in bed. He bundles the blankets around the two of you and presses his body flush to yours. Your skin is boiling on the surface, and though it’s uncomfortable, he bears it for you. 

He trails his hands up your shirt, resting them on the spot you’d been clutching in pain earlier. His cold hands feel amazing on your hot skin and the pressure is almost enough to mitigate the pain of your cramps. You sigh contentedly and relax into your pillow. 

Choso plants soft kisses on the side of your neck and continues kneading your waistline with his hands. The lingering smell of your blood drives him crazy. He wishes he could do more for you, he wishes he could take your pain away.

“So, this is going to happen every month?”

“Pretty much.”

“Does that mean no sex?” He teases.

“Well…”

Your boyfriend cracks a grin, shaking his head at your antics. 

masterlist | jjk masterlist

(dividers + support banners from @saradika / @saradika-graphics !!!)

[wisteriagoesvroom]

broadscar best moments compilation🫣👉👈?

y'know. i actually really had to think about this. because oscar i feel is currently in the early intermediate phase of his glow up and not at his full blastoff broadscar potential yet (give it another few years).

NONETHELESS. the people ask. the people receive. my personal opinion top 5 broadscar moments:

#5. oh boy! that sure is a bicep!

you know the IT guy who shows up to fix your computer and you're like, well. that's nice he's just a quiet guy he's well informed about relevant cybersecurity software patches. he probably plays COD on the weekend and feeds his cat regularly.

then he leans forward with his palms flat on the table to check a dashboard or something and you're like - hold on. whaaat?

anyway not to get into AU or y/n territory rn but like. this was a strong hint of the sleeper build. is all i'm saying.

#4. back getting big, brain go brrrr

exhibit a: cannot remember which race this was from but okay, yeah he's an athletic dude, blablabla

exhibit b: suzuka '24. yooo back gains? and he is SLOUCHING...

#3: the fireproofs of peril

look...if i speak. i simply posit the question to the audience: what if oscar piastri stood up straight more often.

(and thank you @inchidentally for bringing this picture to my attention in the first place. a connoisseur. a scholar.)

number two: qatar karting night kardio arrest

yo. the arms. the balaclava. the vaguely drift-racing-game-adjacent nighttime lighting. and the amount of times this clip alone has surfaced in the oscar piastri thirst edits. ENOUGH SAID.

number one: the qatar sprint-sweat saga

I KNOW WE WERE ALL THINKING IT, OKAY.

how could i not include this on the list because, hello, first win, but also.... O, to be a single drop of sweat sliding down oscar piastri's face and into his *LOUD HELICOPTER NOISE*

anyway, sorry, did y'all hear something??? it sounded like someone losing their mind??

[geordikisser]

somethin’ stupid ( like i love you )

geordi x cutie | fluff , confessions , gn!reader

☆ a/n: little silly thing on how i imagine their confession to each-other :3 entertain me will you. i miss geordi rn. ☆

you held your cup of cocoa as geordi stands besides you. his eyes analyzing every detail of your face. the way your brows raised slight when you were being attentive towards details on the comically huge christmas tree, the way your lips were slightly drawn open showing your excited to the season. he adored analyzing you, he adored you. ‘pretty face, pretty eyes. pretty.’

geordi’s heart begins to pace as you smiled and turn to him. “you enjoying yourself, geordi?” you ask, holding your cup a little tighter. his heart racing as you caught him staring. ‘boy am i enjoying myself. i enjoy you, i enjoy being around you. i should tell them that.’ he gulps, suddenly looking away to the tree again. he opened his mouth to speak. “yeah,,, i’m enjoying myself.” he smiles awkwardly. he breaths in shakily, bracing to say it. “i enjoy being around you.” he admits, looking at you as he says that. your heart skips a beat, you never knew palms could sweat in 20° weather.

“i like being around you too, geordi.” you admit, just as bashfully. that same smile comfortably creeping on your face. ‘like?? you like?? fuck i’m turning red— like the movie? no!! i mean— yes technically but, focus geordi!!’ he chuckles as his eyes accidentally trace down to your lips, realizing what he has done— he quickly stares back up at you anxiously. his mind going a mile a minute, you can’t even attempt to keep up. you feel your head to ache as you stumble a bit. geordi, taken aback at this sudden reaction, holds you up. “h—hey,,!! it’s ok,,, is it ok?— are you ok?” he nervously stuttered out as you hold your cup tightly, making sure not to drop it

you nod reassuringly, looking a him with a weak smile. “think we can sit down?” you asked in a quiet tone. geordi looking around as he nods. “y—yeah of course,,! let’s go.” he returns a even sweeter smile as you two are met on the bench. you sipping your cocoa as he fidgets with his hands. you slipped out of his mind for this moment due to getting a migraine from the overwhelming usage of your power. you place your cup down onto the bench as you shakily sigh. “geo,,” you ask, looking up to him. he snaps his head to you, a little to quickly,, and hums, indicating he’s listening. “can i lean on you?” you ask, your heart for some reason pounding in its chest. you can tell with his eyes widening this shocked him and you can basically hear what he’s saying in his head.

‘on ME? they want to be on ME? i mean they can be on me if they want— GEORDI GOD FOCUS— i want them on me. i need them to want to lean on me. i want them. oh my god this is horrible, why am i like this? why do i think this. geordi, THINK. you ARE thinking dumbass,,, not LITERALLY??? ok literally but not like that LITERALLY.’

you grin to yourself to imagine his inner dialogue as he nods. a very shaky, ‘mHm’ slipping out as he nods. you lean upon him as he feels HIS hands sweating now,, he is enamored with your scent and his stomach is filled with butterflies. you fiddle with your sleeves as you feel the courage to admit something. “i,, listened to minnie riperton. the artist you wanted me to listen to.” you admit as he grins. “did you like her? she’s one of my favorite jazz artists.” you nod. “lovin’ you. that’s my favorite by her.” you hint subtly to him. he gulps as he clutches his fists slightly. “y—ya don’t say,,,” he sounds breathless, shaky. he sounds nervous. “geordi.” you say, firmly this time. his heart falls to his ass. “yeah?” he replied, in a soft low tone only you could hear.

“i like you.” you say, sitting up to look at him. he stares back, completely still. he looks like he got caught, a deer in headlights. his face is intensely redder than it was before. “i—,, i like you, geordi.” you stammer. you feel yourself go hoarse. you flush up as your eyes water. geordi is so shocked, he doesn’t speak he just,, he looks as if he’s trying to come up with something. “wow—,, i.” he starts as he looks away. tears begin to slip, practically turning into icicles as they. as he looked back to you and noticed you were crying. he literally jumped as he wiped them away. “oh my goodness, cutie—!! i’m so sorry.” he stumbles on his words as you look away, embarrassed to admit something so stupid like that that. “m-no,,, i’m sorry,,” you sniff as you cover your face. “i spoiled it all.” you hic softly, falling into his arms shamelessly. “that was stupid, i’m sorry. you don’t need ti say anything.” you sob softly.

you never put yourself out there like that. you, constantly bared knowledge and it saved you from stuff & experiences like this. but geordi was so unpredictable & impressionable. you never gotten the experience you needed to prepare yourself for this and nor do you read social cues as well as the next guys. you were different, geordi knew this and that’s what allured him. he is different just like you and found solace in it, he resonated with it. he grabs your hands and calls your name. “look at me.” he demands in a sweet tone, a comforting one you remember. you look up as his eyes are just as watery as yours. you felt bad immediately as you stutter out apologies as you hold his hands tighter.

geordi shushes those apologies away as he shakes his head. “no— cutie. i like you too.” he smiles, you immediately stopping in your tracks. the final tears spilling down your face as you let go of his hands and give him a big hug, snuggling closely into him. as you two lay in the arms of another, staining each-others backs with tears. you pull away with a big smile, “you like me too?” like you won the lottery. he nods with a goofy smile as you just lean your forehead on his, tears spilling on equal parts. “oh geordi,,,! you had me worried sick. i felt so embarrassed.” you admit, sniffling softly. “i know,, im sorry!! i—i was caught by surprise,,” he giggled as you two make eye contact within this close space. the silence a comfortable one, your hands around his neck as his laid upon your sides.

“you like me.” his hand slips up to your face. “and i like you.” he caresses your face. “we like each-other.” he purrs, giggles as you push him away, laughter filling up each-others ears. he looks away for a second then back to you. he calls your name, grabbing your attention. “will you be my partner?” he asked, popping the question. “of course, geordi,, will you be my boyfriend?” you ask, following up his question. “id love to.” he sighs, holding you closely.

[sharkpupsblog]

😈 Brand New Person ‼️ PART (4/6) Tell me the truth.

A Dark Riders and Dark Rider! Aideen! GN! Reader fanfic!

Guys omg!!! My app was finally fixed 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️ posting this from the app rn I missed this so much 😭❤️❤️❤️ so very happy it’s fixed!!! Also so sorry this part came out so late I planned it for Friday but had . No energy or want to edit 😭💔 I think next part will be the last! Edited this really late at night so I apologize for any mistakes . Once again edited this by myself no grammar helper 🗣🙏 really hoping my English is getting better . Anyways ty guys for ur patience!!! Enjoy!!!

Summary: After your fight with Anne you head back to the oil rig.

Warnings: mentions of bl00d, d34th, want to v0m1t, and bl33ding wounds.

The ferry ride back to the oil rig was… Uncomfortable. Sabine was mad at you she refused to speak or look at you. Anything you said to her was ignored she was highly disappointed. Your first mission was messy. Everything had been going well until you went to fight Anne. You told Sabine you would fight Anne, and show her you were a real threat to her team, but you didn’t land more than three or four hits on the Soul Rider. You promised Sabine you were ready to fight you wanted to join her on a mission. You really did feel ready when you promised her, but your feelings took over you during the fight. How could you fight someone you loved before? Anne used to be your friend your brain couldn’t forget that no matter how hard you tried. You still held some love for the woman and her team feelings did not allow you to fight her, and probably wouldn’t allow you to fight the others either. You heard your horse neigh, and you looked to them seeing them look forward. You were at the oil rig now. The ship was circling around the rig trying to find a dock. Your palms started to sweat at the thought of Sands finding out about today. Would Sabine tell him? You wanted to tell her not to you wanted to tell her this was just a bad day and that it wouldn’t repeat, but she was still ignoring you. You really didn’t want to speak to Sands. The man was a rough leader he saw your every mistake, and each mistake made earned you a long talk. You were tired and sore you really didn’t want to deal with a huge long boring talk. When the ship docked at the rig you gathered your horse’s reins leading them off the ferry ramp and onto the dock. Jay waited for you at the dock wanting to hear how your first mission had gone. As soon as the woman saw Sabine’s sour look she knew it didn’t go well. Sabine and Khaan got off the ship first so Jay went to Sabine asking what had happened and your teammate told her everything. By the time you got to Jay, Sabine was done talking, and walking away with her horse. Jay stood still for a second trying to process what Sabine had told her. Once she was able to, she spoke “what happened? You said you were ready?” The woman watched as you frowned leaning against your horse for support “I was.” You said and your horse stood still allowing you to lean on them “I really was but I don’t know what came over me and-.” The thought of what Anne had said to you popped into your head. You hadn’t forgotten about what she said you just pushed it away too scared to think that what she was saying was true. Did the Soul Riders really run away like Katja had told you? Or did they stay and find your body like Anne said they did? What story was true?... You had to find out… You had to speak to Katja. Jay watched as your frown turned to a scowl “I need to speak to Katja” you stopped leaning against your horse walking closer to Jay “where is she?” The woman didn’t answer your question instead she shook her head saying “I think we need to see Sands first.” You huffed your tone changing from neutral to displeased “I need to speak to Katja” you weren’t going to see Sands you were going to see Katja. Jay’s nose scrunched a bit as her brows furrowed. The woman knew you were going to be stubborn about what you wanted. She didn’t want to stay, and argue with you so she nodded “fine” her tone changed from concerned to annoyed “let’s go find Katja.”

You were in your room pacing back and forth as you waited for Katja. You and Jay found the woman in the stables with Mortifa. She was busy, so she told you to wait for her. You didn’t want to speak in the stables you needed more privacy, so you told Katja to meet you in your room. Jay went to speak to Sands about your mission leaving you to walk to your room alone and anxious. Your anxiety grew as you waited for Katja to come to you, and it got worse as you thought about the long talk you would have with Sands over today. Hopefully the woman remembered that she was supposed to meet you in your room. She was taking a long time you were starting to think that she completely forgot about you. While you waited you thought about how to ask her about the story she told you. How do you ask someone if they lied to you without making it… Bad? How can you ask her if she lied without upsetting her in some way? While you thought about how to say what was on your mind you heard muffled footsteps outside your room. The steps were getting louder, and you knew they had to be from Katja. You waited a couple seconds, and when the steps stopped you looked at your door. The door shook a bit as it was knocked on making your room echo. You quickly walked to the door eager to know the truth when you opened it you gave Katja no time to talk. You quickly dragged her in by the arm surprising the witch as you dragged her into the room. Katja really wanted to ask you what your problem was, but you spoke first “did you lie to me?” You decided to just say it not worrying about being kind. If Katja lied to you then she deserved no kindness from you. If she didn’t lie then you would apologize later, but right now you needed to be rude. You needed to make it clear you wanted the truth you weren’t going to keep playing games. Katja laughed surprised by your question and your awful behavior “excuse you?” She glared at you, and you glared back. “You told me my friends left me behind as soon as the explosion happened” when you said ‘friends’ Katja began to feel uneasy. She and the team were your friends now, were you starting to become disloyal? You spoke again backing away from her your body slowly moving you towards the door without you realizing it. “You said I was left out there alone… But when I was fighting Anne today she said they never left me” your nose scrunched your brows furrowed. Your expression reminded Katja of a snarling animal “she said they found my body.” You were getting closer to the door Katja took notice of it. The witch tensed feeling more and more threatened as you spoke and moved. “And you believed her?” Katja scoffed “she’s lying to you! She lied so you wouldn’t fight her!” That was a huge possibility but your brain was saying ‘keep pushing’ so you did. “I believed her because I knew her longer” your body stopped when you got near the door “she sounded pretty fucking honest to me.” The woman looked at the door, and then to you… What were you planning? “Why did you lie?” You knew the truth now, and Katja couldn’t fight back with more lies anymore. The woman rolled her eyes at you “we’re your real friends and you want to go back to the ones who make you work day and night? Who don’t truly see you or your power?” Katja was trying to make you stay, and calm down, but you refused it “answer me!” You yelled at her “why did you lie?!” You were angry now, you wanted the truth. The witch gave in deciding to tell you the true story, but she still had a plan to try and make you stay “we know who you are.” Her glare intensified “Aideen” she said the name like it was the most disgusting thing ever. You tensed not knowing what to say. How did she know who you were? You didn’t get to ask her thanks to your body freezing in fear and surprise. “Jay came up with the plan.” Katja started walking towards you taking small steps, so she wouldn’t scare you.

“She planned everything” you watched as the woman got closer “she had the Drakonium be put out there, she made sure you would be near the smallest pile, she made an illusion of you to trick your friends, and we stayed out there until you woke up.” You felt like throwing up you betrayed everyone for a lie. Guilt ate away at your insides as Katja spoke “we did all that for you” the witch was acting out her plan now “we care for you so much we did all of this for you.” Her plan was to make it seem like you meant so much to her that you would stay. The woman was right in front of you now she held your shoulders, and through your shirt you could feel the cold of her skin. One wrong move and you could end up with frostbite “aren’t we better than the Soul Riders? We cared for you more than they did aren’t we better?” You seemed to be calming down your angry look going away… But only for a second. The look returned your face burning with anger “you lied to me!” You pushed Katja away quickly walking backwards, so her hands wouldn’t touch any exposed skin. “How are you any better!? You fucking lied to me, and took me away from my friends!” You looked to the door, and Katja went wide eyed “don’t you dare.” She watched as you took a step towards the door “leave this room and I’ll kill you for being a traitor!” You looked to her then back to the door, and you ran out of your room ignoring her words. You ran as fast as you could not bothering to look back to see if Katja was following you. You wanted to look, but you were glad you didn’t as a giant spike of ice appeared in front of you. The spike was aimed right for your torso you managed to dodge it before it could hit any vital organ. Had curiosity gotten the better of you the spike would have pierced you. You didn’t escape unharmed the spike grazed your side. Blood poured from the wound covering your shirt in a crimson red color. Adrenaline hit you making you run faster, and it dulled the pain of your cut putting all focus on survival. Katja was serious she really was going to try and kill you. You had to get off the oil rig this was life or death. You ran down the hall taking a turn running straight for the stables. You weren’t going to leave your horse you’d rather die than leave your horse. More spikes appeared in front of you some of them left a cut on you as you ran around them. The cuts ranged from big to small the spikes were getting harder to dodge. Katja was set on killing you, and you knew she wasn’t going to give up until she did. A strong horrible fear hit you as you realized you might not make it out of the rig alive.

TY FOR READING! :D

[bittersweetmorality]

can i please get a hawks hurt / comfort fix please 🥺🥺 like him waking up from a nightmare abt his childhood and u comforting him and cuddling him and making him feel better:)

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR THIS REQ IM GUNNA KISS U ON THE MOUTH ANON. YES !!! ugh hurt/comfort hawks is my biggest guilty pleasure bc i am one sad mf but i am a whore for hawks fluff . best of both worlds <3 also ! i'm so sorry it's short :(( 1,053 words is definitely short for my standards but ! i'm working on a lot of MHA stuff rn so keep an eye out ^_^

also this fic is definitely based off the song “First Day of my Life by Bright Eyes” cuz i listened to that song on REPEAT while writing this 😁🙏 definitely recommend listening to it while reading besties

— i love you more

☾ genre: hurt/comfort hawks fic !

☾ pairing: hawks x gn!s/o reader

☾ warnings: details of nightmares, heavy angst that pertains to emotional/physical abuse, cursing, just very sad and scared hawks :(

☾ w/c: 1,053

he was back in the dark living room— the one he was sure he escaped many years ago. the painfully familiar walls, despite the years of constant effort he put into repressing the memories. the memories of his father grabbing him by his neck with unrelenting strength, and thrusting him up against them, letting his breath ridden with alcohol and pure indifference fan against his cheek. the kind of indifference of a predator about to kill.

and all around him, no matter how much he sealed his eyes closed, covered his ears with all of his strength-- the retched smell of alcohol and his rotten memories were suffocating him.

why was he back here?

his heart began to race, feeling the way his fingers lost all heat and he felt his legs lose all bearings. his breathing an erratic, shaky pace, his eyes feeling cloudy from panic and pure fear as he scrambled through his dreadful surroundings in hopes of some sort of exit. but every step he took was completely useless. no matter how fast his legs moved, he still stood in the exact place he started.

he couldn’t escape.

footsteps could be heard echoing around him, getting louder and louder. it was haunting, like this moment was an exact replica of a night from many years ago. with his fixed position right in front of his father’s couch, and the weather of the night eerily quiet, as if the world was also terrified of the man slowly getting closer and closer to the helpless boy in the living room of a man who never loved him.

“keigo,” a gravely voice slurred from the other room, “keigo, fucking answer me. i know-- know you’re there.” he recognized it all-- the hiccup between his words, the genuine anger in his voice when he addressed him.

keigo blinked, and when he opened them again, his father appeared right in front of him, a large, half-drunk translucent bottle in hand.

"why the fuck didn't you respond? i fucking-- fucking called you, didn't i?" now that he was just mere centimeters from his ears, his voice sounded even more terrifying than his memory could ever bring justice.

his gaze followed the arm of his father that was holding the bottle, that was beginning to rise, and came straight down towards his head with pinpoint accuracy--

and keigo's eyes snapped open.

a thick sheen of cold sweat collected all over his shaking, trembling body. he wasn't able to identify his surroundings, his nightmare replaying itself with seemingly more lucidity than the first time. he still saw the haunting figure of his father at the foot of his bed, and as his breathing came in sharp, short breaths, he felt you sit up immediately.

you shot up from your slumber at the sound of keigo's sobbing, his knees pulled up to his chest, and his face buried between them as you saw his body shake violently. you've never seen him this unraveled; in this much pain.

"keigo? honey?" you softly called out, gently reaching out to him.

as your hand caressed him, you felt him tense under you for a split second, causing him to shoot up from his position to look at the source of the contact. as his eyes fell onto your gentle touch, he collapsed into you without thinking twice, holding onto you for dear life while you cradled him on instinct.

"hey... shh... baby, i'm here. you're safe. it's me, yeah? no one else is here except me and you," you shushed. you knew he occasionally suffered from devastating nightmares, and because of it, you were able to know exactly how to calm him down.

although his sobs didn't seem to subside much, you could feel the way he began to relax into you, as if he was aware that it really was you, not a part of his terrifying nightmare.

he knew you were always there for him.

you shifted from your upright sitting position into a lied down, comfortable spooning position, holding him against your chest while carefully stroking his hair. you waited until he had calmed down enough before trying to speak to him again.

"...nightmare," he mumbled against you.

"i figured, baby," you planted a soft kiss against his hair, "i've got you. you're safe."

he sniffled in response, nuzzling his face deeper into your embrace. you softly rubbed your palm over the expanse of his back to soothe him, and ultimately ground him-- remind him that this was the real world, not the nightmare.

"he was back." keigo shuddered.

you couldn't help the small droplets forming in the corners of your eyes, "honey... i'm so sorry. so... so sorry. i know how scary he is. but..." you took a deep breath,

"but he's not here. he's not back. god, i wish i could get rid of him inside your head like we were able to in reality. but right now, it's only me. me, and your comfy bed, and your comfy blanket, and your comfy pajamas, yeah?" you lifted his head up by his chin to make him look up at you as you spoke.

"yeah?" you repeated.

he slowly nodded.

"yeah, j-just you. and... and my comfy blanket..."

"mhm, your favorite blanket. the fluffy one you like to run your fingers across. why don't you try it right now, sweetheart?"

he took many deep breaths as he held the blanket close to him, running his fingers through it to remind himself that he was okay-- his father wasn't here, because the nightmare wasn't real.

the blanket was real. the calming lavender scent on the bedroom was real.

you were real.

he took one final deep breath, opening his eyes to look at you again. your face illuminated by the soft moonlight, perfectly casting your concerned, but gentle expression.

"thank you..."

you could barely hear the words that escaped his lips, but even so you knew how much he meant them.

"of course, keigo... i'll always be here. always. you know you always have me, and i'll be here to remind you no matter what."

he finally released all of the tension in his body, fully relaxing in your warm embrace.

"goodnight, sweetheart," you whispered, planting one final kiss.

"...i love you" he whispered back.

"i love you more."

masterlist

[nameless-shrimp]

i saw the royalty au thing someone sent you, and i just—

prince!chuuya, who frequently places his crown at a crooked angle on your head and laughs when you frown at him. he also pulls it over your eyes to blind you so he can lean in to give you a peck on the lips.

prince!dazai, who sweeps all his documents off his desk and bounds up to you when you enter his private chambers. he grabs you in a big bear hug around your waist and lifts you up while you kick your legs and squeal for him to put you down. he’s so dramatic, too, whining about how you “left him for dead” when you just left him with kunikida for sparring practice. pls the amount of times kunikida has walked in on dazai holding you off the ground and you squirming in his hold, and all three of you just freeze and stare at each other in silence.

also…. prince!dazai who’s as swift as lightning and undefeated when it comes to swordplay. everyone’s lowkey afraid of him since he always looks so cold when he concentrates. but when you stop by, he gets all mushy and drapes himself all over you, sweat dripping from his hair all over your face and dirty gloves ��accidentally” soiling your dress so he can take responsibility for dirtying your outfit and skip out on practice to take you to your shared room.

DAMN. YOU GOTTA DO THIS TO ME RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW, OKAY. I JUST—

PRINCE! CHUUYA HAS THE NEEERVE. SUCH A TEASE. A COCKY SMIRK ON HIS FACE but we all know he's so hopelessly in love like please, hello prince charming, mwah!

His gentle palm comes in contact with your skin, with fingers tapping alongside the furious blush. A cocky grin rises on his lips; as typical, for the boisterous prince he was, yet his smile softens. An everlasting glow flickers across his ocean blues. Leaning in, he plants a kiss on the tip of your nose, only snickering at your surprised look. The crown nearly tips at the side of your head.

Chuuya smiles wide, now cupping your cheeks with both of his palms. Lovestruck gaze all over him. "You're beautiful; absolutely breathtaking, you know that, my dove?" He speaks so cautiously; smooth like fabric. "I can't get this precious, cute look off your face when you act this way!"

AND AS FOR THAT DAZAI BIT PLEASE NO, HE WOULD DEFINITELY DO SUCH A THING. THE BASTARD HE IS, YET WE ALL LOVE HIM SO. THE AWKWARD MOMENT OF KUNIKIDA JUST WALKING IN LIKE ʕ – ᴥ – ʔ AND THEN IT'S ALL SILENCE FROM THERE AND, OH. PLEASE. THE DARK STARES HE GIVES DURING THOSE ANNOYING DAMN ROYALTY MEETINGS BUT WHEN HE SEES YOU, HE'S A TEASING BUNDLE OF JOY like God help me *runs to the computer* must write this drabble rn OH MERCY—

[writesowhatnext]

crush: a noun and a verb // fred weasley

Summary: The reader works at The Three Broomsticks and has a bit of a crush on Fred. Well, more than a bit. Worse still, he knows it and he is one cocky bastard.

Request: Hi I’m not sure if you’re taking requests rn, but if you are, then I have an idea for a Fred Weasley x reader where the reader works at the three broomsticks and has a crush on Fred. He knows this already and purposely goes there (sometimes with George and Lee) to tease and annoy her. Ty, I love your writings x

A/N: this was such a cute request

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: swearing :) and also idk playful hitting I guess? The word abuse + bit of a steamy make out (not too steamy)

Fred Weasley was a menace to society, The Three Broomsticks, and, on a personal note, your entire existence.

You remembered the first time you met him all too well. You were behind the bar, somewhat overprepared for the influx of Hogwarts students you’d been warned about when two boys in robes sauntered in. They were obviously twins, handsome too and around your age with red hair and freckled skin and a distinct air of trouble. They laughed to each other as they walked over; one of them leaning on the bar to get your attention. What you didn’t realise until you got closer to the boy at the bar was how tall he was, or how lovely his dark eyes were.

“You alright there?” he asked, a charming smile on his face. You could feel your face heat up and whether he could see it or not, something about your bashful side-eye or immediate swallow to dislodge the lump in your throat gave away how nervous you were.

“What? Fine, yeah. Yes. You?” you blurted out. His eyebrows rose in amused surprise and you had to blink a few times before you remembered what you were being paid for. “Sorry, what can I get you today?”

His grin only widened when he saw how flustered you were, clearly enjoying that it was all because of him.

That was only the start of Fred’s monopoly on your attention. The second time he came into the pub, it was a sunny day and most students had gone elsewhere – the cosy atmosphere of The Three Broomsticks not a big seller in the sunshine. Not Fred and George though, they didn’t seem to care.

When they walked in, you couldn’t help but consider how attractive they were. Even after meeting them only once, though, you could tell them apart. You could tell which one had gotten you flustered at the bar and as you sat by the kitchens, ready for table service, it was hard to deny how attracted you were to him. Something about his confidence and the easy way he leant across the bar and the way he’d looked at you stirred something inside of you and whilst it wasn’t unpleasant, per se, you did not enjoy having a crush. You sighed, dropping your head into your hands and groaning in frustration. You had to curse yourself really: you get a new job and the first thing you do is go weak at the knees for a boy? Shameful, you thought.

“Y/N,” your boss said, handing you a plate of chips through the kitchen window. “I don’t pay you to sit there and think about how hard it is to be a teenager. Table twelve.”

Your expression turned dry at his words, but you didn’t say anything, only rolling your eyes when he couldn’t see as you picked up the plate and headed over to table twelve: a table crowded by two red-headed gentlemen with matching coats, butterbeer pints and, well, faces.

“Chips?”

You stood next to them; acutely aware of their eyes on you. The one that you’d spoken to before stared at you for a moment before a spark of recognition lit up his eyes and a smile lifted his features.

“That’s us,” they both said at the same time, moving their pint glasses out of the way. You placed the plate down gently, very much eager to leave without making a fool out of yourself by doing something stupid like throwing chips everywhere.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?”

Somehow, hearing him speak the second time only worsened your reaction. Your face felt like it was on fire and as you opened your mouth, every single word you’d ever known died on your tongue. You nodded. He noticed your stiff jaw and your avoidance of eye contact and he wet his lips, smirking.

“Well, we’re regulars so I think we better introduce ourselves; don’t you?” he stuck his hand out and for a moment, you just stared at his outstretched palm and debated whether it was good for you financially to leg it out of the pub. “I’m Fred.”

With a gulp, you wiped your palm quickly on your apron, hoping he didn’t notice, before you shakily grabbed his hand. His smile widened and you tried not to concentrate on it too much, already far too aware of his warm fingers surrounding yours. When he let go, the colder air of the pub was nice. It would be a lie, though, to say you didn’t miss the contact.

“And I’m George,” his brother said, folding his arms and looking at you with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin, a very different vibe to his brother. He made no movement to shake your hand and you were grateful. Given how completely nervous you were, you were sure it would’ve clammed up again instantly, had he offered.

“Y/N,” you nodded, smiling a little. Your nervous stuttering and sweating were starting to get on your nerves and you were keen to get a grip.

“You look a bit nervous there, Y/N,” Fred said, feigning mock concern. “Are you alright?”

In that second, you’d never been simultaneously more pissed off and attracted to someone. That cheeky bugger, you thought, teasing you for your crush on him. Annoyingly, his brashness only worked in his favour as you found yourself all the more attracted to him for it.

“Of course,” you tried to keep your voice level. You were failing if George’s amused smile was anything to go by. “Nothing to be nervous about, is there?”

You pursed your lips slightly, focusing on Fred for a fraction too long. If you’d looked any longer, though, you would’ve seen interest flicker in his eyes.

“If you’ll excuse me, gents, I’ve got to get back to work.”

As soon as you began to walk back to the kitchen, Fred whipped his head around to watch you with ardent curiosity. When he turned back, George was sending him a very deadpan, very knowing look.

After that, Fred came in every single weekend. Mostly, he came with George, but occasionally he would come alone. Sometimes he brought others with him. Many times, he bustled into the pub with a whole gang of students; one you recognised as Harry Potter, the boy from the papers. One very chilly day in December was no different. The pub was full of students trying to get in from the cold and Fred, one of them, as full of energy, as usual, steered a younger girl to the bar by her shoulders. She was much shorter than him but she had the same red hair and freckles. She was a great deal prettier too, mind you.

“Hello, my dear, dear Y/N,” he said, leaning on the bar as you cleaned a pint glass with a rag.

“Fred, what a pleasure.”

Your tone may have been sarcastic but you couldn’t hide the fondness that leaked through. It had been so long and yet you still couldn’t shake your crush. Of course, it didn’t help, though, that Fred never let you forget it.

“Y/N, this is my sister, Ginny,” Fred pointed at the girl vaguely, barely taking his eyes off of you as his elbows settled on the sticky wood beneath them. “Ginny, this is Y/N – the most beautiful barkeep in the world.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, used to his teasing. He always did this. He always complimented you to try to get a rise and, despite yourself, you couldn’t help your reaction to him. He thrived off your awkwardly shy expressions and shaky movements and your responses to his compliments spurred him on the most.

“I’m so sorry he’s your brother,” you said to Ginny, shooting Fred a dull glance. Her eyebrows, which had been tightly knitted together in a frown, lifted immediately and a smile spread across her lips.

“Me too, don’t worry. You get used to it,” she said. Her voice was surprisingly hardy for such a small girl and you wondered, for a second, what horrors Fred and George had put her through. You both rolled your eyes as Fred mocked hurt and with an awkward but sweet wave, she left the bar, probably in search of her friends.

“How about a free butterbeer for your favourite customer?” Fred asked, smiling cheekily. You bit the inside of your cheek, rolling your eyes again. You played along though, knowing that he enjoyed messing with you and you enjoyed, well, any time you could spend with him. You leant on the opposite side of the bar; eyebrows furrowed as you pretended to look around. You tried to ignore the close proximity between your upper arms.

“I don’t see Hermione Granger anywhere?”

He choked a laugh, unable to contain his toothy grin, obviously pleased at your answer.

“Now that’s just plain cruel.”

“And you deserve it.”

“Here I was, thinking you liked me.”

You narrowed your eyes at his sad puppy dog expression, barely noticing George approach. “And why would I like you?” you replied far too quickly. There was an edge to your voice, but you hoped he didn’t hear it.

“Very defensive. Did you hear that, George?”

“I did indeed, Fred.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Y/N fancied me or something.”

You rolled your eyes, pouring a pint of butterbeer and pushing it over to Fred.

“It’s on the house if you piss off.”

Fred stood up dramatically straight, saluting you and shooting you a wink before walking over to where his sister had disappeared to, somewhere by Harry Potter and an assortment of other faces you recognised. The wink sent your mind into overdrive and with a marginally annoyed huff, you shook your head to try to dispel the heat from your cheeks; you hoped no one noticed it in the warmth of the pub.

“You know he fancies you too, right?” George asked, reminding you he was still there. He leant away from the bar on one of the beams holding the ceiling up.

“Pfft,” you reach for a glass, pouring George a pint. “Yeah, and I’m the seeker for the Holyhead Harpies.”

“Y/N, Fred’s dragged me in here nearly every bloody Hogsmeade trip for the last three years. Do you honestly think he’d do that only for a laugh?”

You shot him a dry look as you placed the pint on the counter.

“Fine, maybe he would. But not for you.”

You watched George fish through his pockets for some coins before offering them to you. You just shook your head, folding his fingers towards him and pushing the money away.

“He really does like you; he’s just a muppet that doesn’t know how to stop taking the piss. Think about it, yeah?”

Your nod as he left was absentminded, and you couldn’t help but stew a little on his words.

It wasn’t until you were ending your shift about a week later that you saw Fred again. He was wearing his Hogwarts uniform when he barrelled through the door and you nearly didn’t recognise him. You couldn’t deny he looked good and even as he stalked towards you, his snow-covered shoes ruining the floor you had just mopped, you had to admire him a little. Something about the rolled-up sleeves of his jumper and the red and gold of his tie was a good look for him and you could barely focus until he stopped right in front of you, almost trampling the mop in your hand.

“You know it’s not just a joke, right?”

It was then that you realised how serious he looked, and – wait, shouldn’t he be wearing a robe?

“Are you not cold?”

“Blood freezing, actually, but let’s not avoid the question, sweetheart.”

Too concerned about the weather and his lack of appropriate attire, you didn’t even register his words. You just grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him over to a seat by the fireplace. Without another word, grateful that everyone else had left for the day, you fetched him a blanket, tossing it around his shoulders before sitting down opposite him.

“What are you doing here? Are you even allowed here? Won’t you get in trouble?”

With the blanket huddled around his head, a boyish grin shaped his features and your insides twisted at how cute he looked.

“So, you care if I’m I get into trouble?”

You rolled your eyes, thumping him with the back of your hand. He rubbed his arm but his smile didn’t budge.

“I wanted to see you,” he admitted, an uncharacteristically shy look on his face.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Blimey, is there an echo in here?”

You went to hit him again but he moved away before you could. He tilted his head from side to side as if debating something.

“We were packing to go back home for the holidays and George told me that you think it’s all just a joke.”

“What’s all just a joke?”

You knew you were probably being dim but you didn’t understand what he was talking about in the slightest – you hadn’t expected to see him again until January and whilst that didn’t particularly fill you with joy, you’d made your peace with it.

“Christ, you are being thick today,” he said, barking a laugh. “Us. You think we’re just a joke. Me and you.”

Us? Your stomach turned inside out at the word. You hadn’t realised Fred thought there was a ‘you and him’. When you didn’t say anything, Fred looked down, messing with hte edges of the blanket between his fingers.

“And I couldn’t have you thinking that could I? So, I came down here-“

“Without a coat.”

“Without a coat,” he rolled his eyes. “Because I had to make sure you knew.”

“Knew what?”

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears and whilst you were partly sure of what he meant, you needed him to say it. Knowing your luck, you’d end up connecting the dots wrong and making a thunderbird out of a bowtruckle.

“That all those jokes and stuff-“ he looked at you then, letting out a humourless laugh. “I fancy you, Y/N, okay. In an actually quite big and honestly quite inconvenient way.  And I realised, thanks to George actually, that you didn’t know that.”

You didn’t speak for a moment, mouth dropping open.

“You what?”

Your voice was much louder and much more incredulous than you’d intended. “You’ve been teasing me for bloody years and what? You actually feel the same?”

“Well,” he said with a small grin. “I wouldn’t say the same, you do have very strong-“

You moved to hit him with the back of your hand again when he caught your wrist and pulled you toward him. The blanket shrugged off his back as you were pulled over him, your faces dangerously close together.

“That’s practically domestic abuse.”

You could feel his breath on your lips.

“You know,” he wet his lips slowly, eyes flicking down to yours. “I’m quite glad I came,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with his free hand as you hovered over him. “Means I get to do this.”

His hand moved from behind your ear to your cheek and then he was kissing you. You would’ve been embarrassed at how loudly you sighed into his mouth had he not smiled, his hand abandoning your wrist to grab your waist, pulling you toward him so you were straddling his lap. Then his hands were everywhere, skimming up and down from your waist to your back to your hips; you could barely keep track as he stole your breath. The warmth of it all was perfect. His tongue lapped at your lips and your hands disappeared into his hair, pulling him closer. Against all that’s sane and good in the world, you both pulled away, breathing heavily. His hands settled on your waist as he stared up at you, eyes blown wide.

“Careful now,” he said, a smirk lifting the corner of his swollen lips. “Carry on like that, and I might think you fancy me or something.”

“You’re so fucking lucky I like you.”

And then you kissed him again.

[touyota]

Catfish

☁ Summary: Tomura is hopeless when it comes to relationships, and soon that’s all subject to change. With the power of Tinder, Touya and one oblivious chick on his side, who knows what can happen. 

A/N: omgggg, i’ve lurked on my priv for the past year and finally decided to stop being a narc and post something. i haven’t written in forever and it shows lmao, but uh yeah pls give me feedback if you’d like. (also idk if this has been. done before, but sorryyy if it has)

☁ Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!Reader

☁ Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, manipulation, dumbfication (if you squint), slapping, yandere, catfishing 

"Fuck I'm horny." 

Tomura groaned into his pillow, conflicted with whether he should be agitated or turned on. Due to his third nap of the day being interrupted by the excessive lewd noises coming from the shared living room. Tomura's roommate, Touya, had no real understanding of boundaries and was often more bothersome than helpful. Still, without his portion of the rent, he'd be on the streets struggling to find an apartment within his meager budget.

"Keep fucking me, Touya-san!" The plea echoed through the thin walls of the shoddy apartment. At least someone was getting laid. The last time Tomura had gotten lucky was at an impromptu Halloween party thrown by Touya at the apartment. 

He went as Jason Vorhees using a dingy hockey mask he found in Touya's closet. The poor girl in question, who came dressed as an angel, was drunk out of her mind. She clung to Tomura's scrawny body incoherently, slurring about "How hot it would be to fuck a murderer." The fling hadn't lasted long before the young lady in question toppled over the side of his bed and hurled her entire cup of jungle juice onto the floor. Poor Tomura had to spend his night nursing her head over the toilet. Making a mental note to tell Touya that he couldn't invite any freshmen to their parties ever again.

Tomura ended up seeing her again in passing on campus, giving a small smile as she walked by. Only to be met with an eye roll as she turned to walk in the opposite direction. Fucking bitch... Other than that, Tomura had found himself too busy writing code, playing video games, and browsing Reddit to dedicate any time to dating. The polar opposite of his roomie Touya-san, a communications major whose schedule consisted of dating? If you considered fucking the same chick for a week before ghosting her dating, sleeping, and eating and drinking Tomura out of a house and home.

"You ready for my load? You're my little cum dump, right? Say you're my cum du-"

Speaking of fucking, Tomura's hard-on was starting to hurt, and what better way to relieve himself than to beat off to the action in the adjacent room. 

He started to palm himself over his sweats, erection already beginning to poke through. Figuring that he's teased himself enough, he lowered his boxers, allowing his cock to slap against his stomach, throbbing and angry. He slowly stroked himself, gathering the pre-cum spouting from the tip, and used it to lube the rest of his cock.

"Pleaseee fuck! I'm your little cum dump! I swear Touya!" 

Tomura started to stroke his cock faster, leaving a squelching noise with each stroke. He was barely managing to suppress his moans. Knowing how Touya wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he got caught fucking his hand to the sounds of their subtle lovemaking. 

"Fuckfuckfuck... I'm cumming!" Touya grunted, giving out after his final stroke.

Tomura followed suit, flicking his wrist with each stroke. As his orgasm finally took hold of him, biting into his shirt to stifle his moan as he came all over his fist. 

"Are you fucking serious, Touya?"

"What?" 

"I didn't get to cum?"

"Um… I'm sure you can take care of that when you get home."

"You're such a piece of sh-"

Tomura tuned out the rest of his roommate's performance. Really hoping he'd wrap it up cause he really needed to take a piss and couldn't make it to the bathroom without passing through the living room. 

After hearing a respectable amount of silence, he figured it was safe to leave the room. Of course, he was wrong; he was met with a staredown between Touya and a petite blonde woman.

"I'm sure your roommate Tenko wouldn't leave a lady hanging like that."

"It's Tomura," he muttered.

"Same fucking thing, my point still stands," The mystery woman huffed. There was a pregnant pause before Touya doubled over in laughter, clutching his chest.

"You think this cuck knows how to take care of a lady? Yeah, it's time to go, Tara."

"It's Toga, you shit stai-"her statement was abruptly interrupted, the door slamming in her face. Touya's back slid down against the door as he sat facing Tomura. 

"Chicks? Am I right?" Touya sighed, peering over at Tomura, who had just left the bathroom. "Speaking of chicks, when's the last time you had sex, Shiggy?"

"It's been... a while." Tomura shrugged, not wanting to indulge his roommate with the details of his sex life.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? Let's make you a Tinder." Touya proudly announced, excited at the prospect of playing matchmaker for his roommate. Tomura reluctantly gave in, knowing once Touya was set on something, it was bound to happen one way or another. 

Two blunts later, Tomura and Touya were strewn over the couch, mulling over his profile's final details. It consisted of three pics, one from the Halloween party, another from their most recent function. The last pic is a selfie of him in a black hoodie with sunglasses on. The icing on top is the bio that unironically stated, "Freak in the sheets, gamer in the streets."

"You're gonna be a real pussy magnet shiggy. Just wait, you'll have to fight the chicks off with a stick after they see this." Touya chuckled as he took another puff of the blunt.

"Go to hell and stop hogging; you didn't put shit in on this anyways," Tomura muttered as he snatched the blunt away to take a pull. Maybe he would find some success, he entertained the concept of having a consistent fuck buddy, but sometimes he was lonely and just wanted someone to lay up with. He wanted to be optimistic about something for once, taking his final pull and ashing the blunt out. The smoky haze and intoxicating scent lulling him to sleep. 

Fuck optimism, Tomura thought. It had been three days with zero matches or messages, and he was starting to think there had to be a glitch in the system. The only time he had seen a match is when he accidentally swiped on Midnight's profile, a famous Only fans content creator who specialized in BDSM. The same Midnight that he happened to be a top donor for and occasionally bought panties from, but that's beside the point. The profile was poorly made with blurry, uncropped pics taken straight from her social media profiles. The lack of detail and legitimacy was apparent. Tomura felt terrible for the poor soul who probably fell for it, but it made him think… 

Why not see how different the response would be if he ran a profile under someone else's guise.  Someone more attractive, someone more affluent, and someone more famous. This was simply a social experiment; no harm would come from it of course. He would simply ghost anyone who wanted to meet, keeping all interactions virtual. Now who could he possibly pretend to be. without getting caught. Tomura's eyes finally settled on an Axe ad playing on tv featuring male model Keigo Takami. Mr. tall, blonde, and handsome would definitely attract the feminine masses.  

Ding ding ding, it was like a bell went off in his head; he had found his new look. He started to scour the internet for any pictures of Hawks that weren't already posted to his socials and be sure to crop any evidence out. A few hours later, Tomura gazed over his final product. He thought it seemed too good to be true; he was sure that anyone with a working brain would know the profile was clearly a catfish. It was too clean, too pristine, and too perfect, but Tomura was tired of the profile's nit-picking details and saved his last changes. It was starting to get dark, and he had to begin his Comp Sci homework soon so he'd have time to play zombies on Call of Duty later. 

Tomura woke to a multitude of buzzes notifying him of the several hundred matches he'd accumulated overnight on his Hawks profile. Apparently, no one had a working brain within the 15-mile radius. The messages were filled with tons of chicks he had seen on campus or in class. He even recognized the one from the Halloween party. He spent his morning smoke break, siphoning through the various contenders.

Too tall.

Too blonde.

Too ugly. 

Until...

He finally stopped scrolling when he reached your profile; he had seen you before in his Major classes. You were a somewhat modest girl, always working to be an overachiever and teacher's pet. You hadn't spoken to him before, only forcing a smile when Tomura was caught staring at you in class. You were talented, beautiful, quiet, and you hadn't encountered Touya yet. You were everything he had wanted, and more. He started to type a message awaiting your response.

Keigo: "What's keeping you up this late, love ;)" 

Tomura thought to keep it casual enough to fit his suave persona.

Y/N: "lol, just sum late night studying keeping me up."

Y/N: "won't lie im very nervous to texting you rn, i'm a big fan 

Keigo: "it's gud knowing i have fans as cute as you ;p"

The conversation seemed to flow from there between you two, texting for almost two weeks strong. Tomura had learned so much about you in a short time, your favorite foods, your favorite color, favorite music, and your dislikes as well. Touya often came by his room to check in on Operation: Get Shiggy Some Pussy, only to be met with a "Fuck off," and yet another door slammed in his face. 

You gushed over how lucky you were to be texting the one and only Keigo Takami. Of course, you were skeptical at first, but what kind of fucked up person would take the time to pretend to be another person? The conversation between you two was great and always kept you on your toes. Still, sometimes days would pass before you received a response; you chalked it to the fact that he was always busy as a celebrity and didn't always have time to respond to you. 

You were currently lying in bed and unable to fall asleep; you peered at your phone to see that it was 2:05 am. You let out a sigh, preparing to stare at your ceiling until you finally fell asleep, only to be interrupted by a chime from your phone. It was a message from Keigo. 

Keigo: you up? ;(

You instantly typed a response, scared that you had done something wrong.

Y/N: yup, what's wrong…?

Keigo: i'm so fucking hard rn baby ;(((

Oh shit, you hadn't prepared yourself for that response; maybe he injured himself at work or-

Keigo: you still there babe? send a pic ;p

You definitely hadn't prepared for that, but who were you to deny him. Keigo could've asked anyone else in the world, but he asked you. Not wanting to leave him waiting, you quickly shucked your shirt off and used your arm to push up your breasts, giving an illusion of the perfect push up bra. You promptly took several pics, taking the time to edit and select the ideal filters to complement your skin tone.

Y/N: 1 image sent

A bubble indicating him typing popped up instantly 

Keigo: 3 images sent

Keigo: fuckkkk babe, ur such a tease

You opened the pics, feeling your panties dampen slightly. It was a cock, well Keigo's cock, fat and engorged, leaking pre-cum against his toned belly. He was mostly well-groomed, but a prominent white tuft of hair appears in the picture, making you wonder if Keigo was actually a natural blonde.

Keigo: 1 video sent

 let me see that pretty pussy baby, 

It was a video of Keigo languidly stroking his cock, how romantic. It was only right for a gorgeous man like Keigo to have a pretty cock to match. What he lacked in girth was definitely made up for in length, complemented with a slight curve that could definitely reach that itch that none of your toys could scratch.  By now, you had ditched your panties and started to slowly start to fuck yourself open with one finger at a time. You started recording and angled the phone against your pillow, trying to capture you desperately fucking yourself on your fingers, letting out a small whimper with each thrust.

Y/N: 1 video sent 

You began to fuck yourself vigorously, dragging the accumulated slick over your clit with slow, circular strokes. You felt your orgasm on the brink, growing more restless and desperate, humping reverently at your fingers, whimpering desperately; you were so close...There was a sudden surge of fluid from your core, incoherent mumbles leaving your mouth as you kept carefully fucked yourself through your climax. The post-orgasm bliss lulling you to sleep, your eyes had finally fluttered shut, only to be awakened by another chime. 

Keigo: 1 image sent 

look @ all that cum baby, its all for you ;)

Y/N: when can we meet? my fingers can only work for so long :p

Read: 2:53 am

Aw man, maybe he fell asleep. You were definitely fighting sleep at this point as well, finally closing your eyes, satisfied for the night. 

Tomura struggled to catch his breath, reaching for his discarded shirt to wipe the sticky cum off of his stomach. That was the third time this month you'd ask about a meeting, and it was frankly starting to piss him off. He'd have to come up with something fast if he wanted to keep you around. Even though he didn't have much of a moral compass left in his body, the feeling of guilt was hard to ignore. You didn't deserve to be roped into his fucked up social experiment… 

A yawn interrupted Tomura's guilty thoughts. He could continue to feel guilty when he wakes up tomorrow.

 The following week your prayers had been answered, Keigo finally agreed to meet! It had been such a bittersweet feeling. What if he thought you looked nothing like your profile pictures? Would he reject you and run the other way, screaming? You tried to push your doubtful feelings down by distracting yourself with running errands. Finding the perfect outfit to wear, getting every inch of your body waxed, and picking up a lacy red lingerie set. 

Upon getting back to your apartment, you found a red bouquet of roses on the doormat. They were clearly store-bought and not of excellent quality… but it's the thought that counts! 

Lots of celebrities were frugal, and of course, Keigo was no different. After further inspection, a small white card with an address and time. You searched the address finding a mid-grade hotel on the outskirts of the city. Keigo was definitely a (cheap) frugal man dedicated to his discretion. Soon realizing that the time on the card was approaching, you quickly ran to shower and primp yourself for the evening. Not even thinking to question how he found your address in the first place...

You had finally arrived at the sketchy hotel, noting that there were little to no cars in the parking lot and noting that none of them looked like they belonged to Keigo. You wandered through the lobby until you finally reached the elevator, tapping the button for the 5th floor. You tried to shake off your pre-meeting jitters, you already knew everything would be fine, but you couldn't shake the feeling of something wrong...

Those intrusive thoughts were soon interrupted by the chime that indicated you had reached your floor. You took a deep breath as you stepped off the elevator, pacing yourself as you walked to your destination. 

Room 555 

How fitting, you thought. Your knuckles rasped against the door several times.

"Come in." A voice sounded through the door.

You peeked your head around the door before taking a step in the room, not being able to locate the owner of the voice. You gasped after taking the appearance of the room. The room had rose petals haphazardly strewn across the floor. Candles flickered on the dresser, a bubble bath was run in the bathroom, and to top it off, a too cheap bottle of champagne on ice. 

There was clearly an effort made, which made your heart swoon, hoping to put a real face to the man you've been speaking to for the past few months, you said out into the empty room.

"Keigo, I like what you've done with the place. You can come out now," you giggled.

"I'm glad you got the flowers," a raspy voice responded.

.......Huh?

Your joy instantly crushed, having heard Keigo's voice multiple times in the interviews you've seen, it sounded nothing like that. Unless he'd suddenly started chain-smoking within the past few months. A loud alarm started going off in your head. It was definitely time to go.

You twirled on your heels and reached for the doorknob, only to be stopped by a hand gripping your upper arm.

"Leaving so soon? The bathwater is still warm…" The mystery voice informed.

"Oh… I think I have the wrong room, so sorry about that." You squeaked, attempting to reach the door again only to be dragged into a bony chest. 

Your chin was tilted, forcing you to meet eyes with "Keigo." Who was actually a porcelain-skinned tower of a man with shaggy white hair that had an oddly familiar look to him? 

"Let me go! You're not Keigo!" You screamed, hoping to alert any other guests on the floor.

"Fucking took you long enough. I thought you were smarter than those other bitches on campus. Tomura balked, struggling to keep you still in his grasp.

Campus. That's where you recognized the face and voice of your captor, you were both in the same Comp Sci class, and you'd often caught him staring as you worked, chalking it up to you having something on your face or in your teeth. The realization caused tears to spurt from your eyes.

"Poor baby, didn't mommy and daddy teach you to not speak to strangers on the internet?"

"I-I thought y-you were K-Keigo," you gasped, struggling to control your sobs. 

"Well, I'm not. Get over it." Tomura slurred, placing sloppy kisses over your collar bone, slowly backing you towards the bed. 

You couldn't bring yourself to move or fight anymore, body stiff with fear. Your sobs increase in volume after feeling your legs make contact with the edge of the bed. You didn't know this man from a can of paint, and here he is about to assault you. 

"Stop crying before I leak those sexy little videos you shared with "Keigo." Imagine if everyone in the class knew how much of an easy slut you are?" Tomura hissed, shoving you unto the stiff mattress, springs squeaking as you bounced. 

You cradled your mouth, struggling to stifle your sobs. Why hadn't you recognized the signs sooner? You spent so much time looking at the situation through rose-colored lenses that you had utterly neglected your safety. But it wasn't the time to feign sympathy for yourself. You needed to take action, and soon—the shaggy haired stranger dragging your motionless body towards the end of the headboard. 

"Wait!" You gasped, hoping that you could possibly reason with your captor.

"What's your name? 

This was your final chance to escape. You suddenly kicked forward, aiming for his face, failing miserably as it was blocked. Both legs were then shoved into a mating press, granting Tomura the space to press himself even closer to you.

A groan left Tomura's mouth, frotting against your clothed mound, smothering your neck with sloppy saliva drenched kisses. You cowered at the feeling, curling away from his advances. The dry humping continued until a final groan of desperation was released. He was too grown for this shit and didn't feel like going home with stained boxers when your sweet heat was right in front of him.

The red bodycon dress you decided on was shredded down the middle, leaving you in your lingerie set. You added that to the list of things you were already regretting, moving to cover yourself the best you could. Your efforts to preserve the crumb of modesty you had left were futile, both hands knocked out of the way.

"You don't have to hide princess, I think Christmas came early.” “You're wrapped so pretty, baby." He chuckled, moving to fondle your breasts. Taking the time to pinch and pull at both nipples, drawing small hesitant gasps. 

"I'll play with these more later. You don't know how long I've waited to play with that cute little pussy in person." You felt your panties tugged to the side, embarrassed with the amount of arousal accumulated below. The feeling was soon replaced with horror after feeling the tip of his cock dragged between your slit.

Tomura used the residual slick to grease his cock, bypassing the need to stretch you out. He pressed forward, forcing himself inside, pausing to catch his breath. Damn... it's been a long time. 

You yelped in pain, closing your eyes in hopes of blocking out the situation at hand. You felt him start to pick up his pace, causing small tinges of pain to course through your body. 

"Mmmm, open your eyes. I want you to watch me fuck you." He gasped, realizing you hadn't complied yet, he landed a firm slap on your cheek. "Not only are you dumb, but you're also deaf too… open. SMACK your. SMACK fucking. SMACK eyes." 

Your eyes shot open, brimming with tears, finding yourself face to face with your captor. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, dainty white lashes framing the lids, traces of dry patches on his face. He wasn't ugly. You'd honestly give him a chance if he asked you out like a decent human being.

His pace had gained traction, hips crashing against yours. You found yourself slowly succumbing to the pleasure, discreetly fucking yourself against him. You wanted to protest and resist against him, but with your inhibitions lowered, you found it hard to comply. Each thrust pulling you further into the abyss that was your impending orgasm. Your lust-filled thoughts being interrupted by the stranger's incoherent mumbling.

"Tomura."

"Huh?" you whimpered, not fully understanding what he said. 

"My name is Tomura."

"Okay and mine i-"

"Shut up and say my name." Tomura's thrusts were sporadic, signaling his impending climax. "Beg me to cum…... please." 

You barely registered the final demand, not recognizing the soft tone of his voice.

"T-tomura, p-please let me cum!" you begged, right on edge needing something, anything to push you over.

Two nimble, callused fingers drew delicate circles over your clit, forcing you to writhe and sob as your orgasm coursed through your body. The feeling that followed was one of warmth as Tomura came, slowing his thrusts until he collapsed, encasing you in his arms.

Your eyes fluttered shut with your post-orgasm haze lulling you to sleep until a wet, sticky substance trickled along your inner thigh... 

What the fuck....

You nearly launched yourself from the bed, fighting to separate yourself from your captor's arms.  

"What is wrong with you?"

"You didn't use a condom," you wailed, tears perched at the corner of your eyes. You didn't have the time for a child, you were doing great in classes, your parents would reject you, you'd be stuck playing house with some stranger and-

"Stop muttering. You're fucking up my nap. I'll buy a Plan B when I wake up." Tomura mumbled into the pillow, dragging you back into his chest.

You continued to fight his grasp, pausing after feeling a firm pinch to your side. Fighting was futile at this point, and you couldn't fully assess the situation until you had some decent sleep. 

Closing your eyes for a few seconds wouldn't hurt…right?

[ohgodsalazarwhy]

So yesterday was... A Day.  I talked about it on twitter but not here.  I woke up at 5AM on Friday and as I was getting out of bed Natasha was there to greet me.  She rubbed up under my feet, being sweet.

Then we walked down the hallway together.  At 5am it’s still a bit dark in the house, and Natasha starts to hiss at me.  Not uncommon to be hissed at by her, so I ignore it.  Then at the end of the hallway, she’s a bit ahead of me, she turns and yowls.  I freeze.  That’s a danger sound.  I don’t know why she’s turning on me but I try to slowly back away towards the bedroom.  She’s had these weird moods in the past, but never attacked me... though I’ve been afraid of it.

This time I take one shuffle back and she lunges at me in a blind fury.  It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before, she’s screaming and attacking and I’m kicking out trying to get her off my bare legs.  I then dart down and manage to pin her to the floor with two hands but now we’re at a stand off.  If I attempt to relax my grip she screams louder and makes a move towards me.

So here I am, 5AM, bare legs bleeding and with a crazy cat under my hands in the middle of the hallway.  Absolutely nothing to grab like a big blanket or a stick or something to get distance between us until I can get to the bedroom.  I’m next to the craft room door and my legs are starting to shake and I realize I don’t have a choice, if I kneel down she’ll go for my face.  So I take one hand off her to open the door.

Natasha scratches my wrist and palm, then twists and sinks her teeth into my right pointer finger.  Deep.  It happens in second and then I’m shoving her into the craft room and shutting the door.  I’m breathing hard, shaking... I wander vaguely into the living room, try to turn on my floor lamp but I’m shaking too much.  I give up and walk into the kitchen to deposit the medications I’d taken out of my bedroom.

I can feel blood dripping from my finger as I walk back to the bathroom and finally look at my wounds in the light.  The scratches are up and down both legs, I’ve got massive scratches on my left wrist... and the bite on my finger is bleeding everywhere.  I run it under cold water but start to feel sick and am forced to go back to bed before I pass out or throw up.  I’m covered in cold sweat.

I breathe through it, getting blood on my sheets and pillow.  Natasha is meowing loudly in the room next door.  I breathe through the feeling of illness and shock and get back into the bedroom to clean the wounds and get antibiotic ointment on them.  I put bandaids on the bite wound, bottom teeth sank into the side of my finger under the second knuckle while the upper teeth had sunk into the top of the finger above the second knuckle.

I spend the next several hours in and out of bed as the sickness washes over me when I do too much.  But I clean the blood off the floor, and Natasha had emptied her bowels in the hallway so I clean that too.  When I go to the door and speak softly to her she hisses and yowls, so I leave her in there.  I don’t understand why this is happening, this is completely out of character for her.

My parents show up around 9am, and I’ve moved to the couch to lay there.  We’re supposed to go 8 hours south for a family camping trip.  And I’ve REALLY been looking forward to it.  I had all my stuff in the hallway ready to go.  But my parents are very concerned about the bite, and mom says I need to go to urgent care.  The more I talk and move around the sicker I feel.  I’ve bled through the bandaids.  Mom wraps my finger in gauze.  Before I leave the house I open the door to the craft room and quickly exit, I don’t want Natasha trapped in one room for hours.

Dad drives my car and he’s driving... aggressively.  That doesn’t help how I feel, which I think makes him even more nervous about me.  The first urgent care we visit is closed.  The second has a 4 hour wait for walk-ins.  So we finally just go to the ER.  I’m able to find a soft bench to lay down on while we wait... probably at least an hour.  While we’re waiting dad is informing family members what’s going on.  My Aunt, who is an RN, is glad we went to the ER.  My little sister tells her friend what happens to me, her friend loves cats and works with feral cats.

Dad comes over and tells me that Amber’s friend offered to take Natasha while I recover and I nearly tear up and say I’d love that.  I haven’t cried once, but my throat closes up when I think about what happens next with Natasha.  I love her so much, but the damage she did can’t be repeated. 

We get into the ER around 10am, but we don’t get out until 2:30pm.  We were supposed to be on the road by now.

I got a tetanus shot, xray, and my bite cleaned and bandaged as well as an antibiotic prescription.  Horse pills twice a day for 10 days.  Dad drives me to the pharmacy closest to my house.  Across the street is a booth selling Spooners blueberries (Spooners is a famous local farm, renowned for their berries).  Dad says he’s going to zip across the street for blueberries while I fill my prescription.

I come out after filling to see him across the street with the hood of my car up and he’s on the phone.  Goddammit.... I get my pills and text him, asking what’s going on.  The battery, the BRAND NEW BATTERY, has died unexpectedly.  I sigh and walk to the other side of the street to join him.  The sweet person at the stand has called their dad and told him what had happened, and Dad had called my little sister.  We wait around in the sun to see who will show up first.  Sure, this might as well happen today too.  I’m fucking exhausted.  I just want to lay down.  I sit in the backseat because blueberries are in the front seat that my dad is snacking on.  He says they’re the best, and Spooners doesn’t spray them.  I have no appetite or I might snack too.

The Spooners employee’s dad arrives first, and he jumps my car.  We thank him very much but he says it’s not a problem. I call my sister and tell her to meet us at my house, no problem she states.  Finally we’re home, and I cross the street where mom has been with the dogs this entire time, walking them around the neighborhood and staying in the trailer attached to the truck.  The dogs are very happy to see me and I’m happy to see them too.

My pointer finger is splinted and bandaged up and Leela sniffs at it and I have to be careful she doesn’t lick it.  We move across the street into my lawn as Amber and her partner show up.  They’ve brought gloves so they can help my Dad catch Natasha and put her in the carrier.  I sit outside with mom and the dogs while they go in.  Natasha pees on my couch during the ensuing chase because she’s afraid, but they catch her and bring her outside in the carrier.  I’m just glad she’s okay, I’ve felt very guilty about kicking out at her when she attacked me.

Natasha is scared as we set her in the grass in the shade of the fence.  I sit down next to her carrier and she curls up as close to me as she can get.  I want to unzip the top just a little to reach in and comfort her but I’m still a little scared she’ll turn on me.  So then we all wait together in the front lawn for Amber’s friend to arrive, Leela desperately trying to belly crawl her way towards the carrier.  When she finally does Natasha hisses and spooks her so bad she tries to hide under my sister’s legs.  Rotties can be such cowards sometimes.

Amber’s friend arrives with a van and I thank her profusely, but she doesn’t mind doing this at all.  She says Natasha is going to be well taken care of, she even has falconer gloves with which to handle aggressive cats.  I tell her Natasha is normally not aggressive, just very scared.  But to watch out for the yowling, that’s the danger sign.

Natasha is set gently in the backseat and the door is shut, the air conditioning turned on.  We exchange numbers, I thank her again, I can’t thank her enough.  With Natasha taken care of my family goes to a nearby burger joint for food while I stay behind to watch the dogs.  I just want to lay down.  Amber buys me a burger with a gluten free bun.  My appetite is non existent but I know I need to eat.

When they come back my mom and dad leave while Amber and her partner linger to talk.  Her partner loves to talk, he talks all the time.  It used to drive me crazy but I don’t mind anymore, he’s a good person.  I’d had the urine cleaned up and before Amber leaves she puts my couch cushion back.  I give her a stack of books I think she’ll like about abandoned places and ossuaries.  I’m finally left alone. 

No camping trip this weekend, it’d simply be too much.  I don’t think anyone in my family is making it.  My brother and his wife had to back out, Amber and her partner had to back out because of his asthma and the air quality down south.  Mom and Dad would be driving a long way for a short stay, and I know I won’t feel up for such a taxing weekend after the Friday I’ve had.

Amazing how quickly everything can go horribly wrong.

[uttraashadha]

Hi bestieee !!

Here for the yes or no ask, so here I go-

1. Will I get good results in my coming board exams?

2. Like you said I shouldn't be paying much of my energy on him (crush) but I couldn't control myself today because we finally talked!! (Does that changes his feelings towards me?)

3. Will I be successful in the career I wanna pursue? (I hope I didn't ask too many questions, over excitement lol)

Hey bbabysywywywuw <3<3<<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

1. Ok so yes I heard you can do good IF YOU STOP WORRYING. This face will end soon though I mean ofc its exams duh. But dont stress I see you being stressed. Dont overwork yourself please. You'll be okay. I see you sweating and etc. Try being calm while writing your exam. Grounding meditation is necessary for you. Also candel meditation.

2. Ok honestly they are quite lost in their own life and they didnt think much after it. But they are quite confused in their own love life or maybe they are confused with the fact if you like them or not? I mean do they know? Not sure. The situation is honestly quite stabled. They are quite of in hermit mode honestly. Try not being try hard (I heard the word) focus on your own emotions rn as they are lowkey/highkey are all over the place. So stay chill. Do you eat ice? Idk I got that-

3. Some wait is there but yes you will. Aw you'll be too humble about it too. You may give alot to other people DONT GIVE TO THE POINT PEOPLE USE YOU. Yes you will as you follow your passion. You'll be independent. I see you getting a cat? You'll become very grounded. Idk why I keep getting Taurus. Maybe you need to seep into Taurus enrgy to become success. Or maybe you already have it. You'll be good. I mean, we legit got queen of pentacles here.

Ok on to your spouse.

As I was listening to the music "Fit fit fit fit" stood out to me. Hm. They workout alot. And are very fit. I see abs dang dang. Oooo I see surge of passion. Fighter. Passionate. They are like a star. I mean they are a star. With the Star Card, King of Wands and Magician. Ok a big personality coming up istg. And with King of Swords I see they are running towards their passion like NOTHING ELSE. Unstoppable energy for sure for sure. Nothing is stopping this person. I see very Jungkook like every ahhah. Cus he keep appearing infront of my eyes. Your person is like that. But they are financially struggling right now. Picking up their mess bit by bit but at the same time unstoppable. Focused. Well focused. Their home life is maybe not THAT great I think it's because all of them are affected by their financial conditions. They will be known. Ok such a strong wand energy I definitely see they are going to be an artist seeing their passion. They are very humble tho. They will be humble even after being successful. I mean dream person much?#?#?@?×?×? LIKE THEY ARE SO COOOOL. I'm jealous😭😭. They'll be widely known. They are very quite tho. Very very calm energy. They may speak different language than you?. I see a scar on their left back of their palm. Maybe it was a cut that's quite old but yet fresh?? Idk what that means maybe their memory of being cut is quite fresh in their mind. They are a manifestor. They can attract good things. They'll do good. their hands are prominent.

I hope this helps <3

[weirdlyhornyforegos]

TikTok Boyfriend

MINORS DNI!! E-plier x male reader. E-plier is called Marcus, and beware, I know nothing about TikTok and had to google things about it, so if something seems off, that’s why :P 

Marcus loves making TikToks, and since he has gotten very popular on the app, he has also found he loves to livestream and chat with his followers.

It’s fun to film and post things like dances, lip-syncing, and other fun stuff (and the occasional thirst trap), but it’s extra fun to see peoples reactions to what he is doing live. 

It’s also just nice to hang out and chill with people for a bit, especially when he’s alone, like right now, because you went out for a run a little earlier. 

Marcus is in the kitchen, his phone on the counter, propped up against the wall. He does a dab cause someone asks, grinning as he comes up, seeing several people groan in chat.

“So, now that I’ve done the mandatory dab, any questions for me?” His eyes scan the screen, trying to find a question to answer. 

“Oh, here’s one! What’s your favorite candy rn? I gotta say, right now it’s the mango ginger chew.” Marcus reads the screen a little, seeing a few question about what it is.

“It’s these chewable candy, look, I’ll show you, hold on one sec.” Marcus looks down, opening a drawer that is just outside of the screens view. Too preoccupied with finding the candy and talking, he doesn’t hear the front door open, and you yelling that you’re home into your shared house. 

You take your shoes and shirt off, leaving your socks and running short on. You toss the sweaty shirt into the laundry hamper in the bathroom on your way to the kitchen. You can hear Marcus talking in there.

“Ah, here they are!” Marcus pulls up a mostly yellow and orange bag, holding it up so people can see it. You walk into the kitchen, and see him talking to his phone, but pay him no mind, going straight for the fridge to get something to drink.

“The little corner store not far from here sells them, tried them for the first time a few months ago, and since then I just can’t stop eating them.” Marcus takes a candy and pops one in his mouth, reading the comments as he chews.

“Never mind the sweets, who’s that shirtless hunk in the background? He’s the real candy here.”  Marcus reads out loud from his phone. His eyes widen, spinning around just in time to see you closing the fridge, Redbull in hand.

“Yo.” You say and give him a peace sign, grinning as he blushes.

“Babe, didn’t realise you were back yet.” You smile and open the Redbull.

“Just got back from my run, needing some energy before I go do some strength exercises.” You take a sip of your Redbull, eyeing the phone you can barely see over Marcus‘s shoulder.

“I didn’t ruin.... Whatever you were doing did I?” Marcus quickly looks at his phone, were the comments seems to be exploding even though he’s covering most of you now. He turns back around, grin on his face.

“No, but you did just show off to a few thousand people on my livestream.” You raise a brow, grinning yourself. Marcus holds out a hand, making a come here motion. You oblige, and he takes your hand not occupied with the Redbull and drags you next to him.

“Everyone, meet my very fit, and very handsome boyfriend.” You wave with your Redbull before taking a long sip.

“Hi people of TikTok.” Marcus snorts and you stick your tongue out at him. Marcus looks at the chat on screen, which is mostly filled with heart, star, and sweating emojis. You notice as well, grinning smugly, taking another sip of your Redbull.

“People are wondering if you’re down with answering some questions. I think they’re a bit curious about you.” You grin, elbowing Marcus’s side gently.

“Or just thirsty, but go ahead, ask away.” The chat more or less explodes, and both of you laugh at that.

“Woah, slow down people, I can only read so much!” You let your eyes skim the screen.

“How long you two been together?” Marcus reads out loud.

“We been together for like a year now, a couple of uh, mutual friends introduced us.” Marcus nods, looking for another question for you two answer.

“Okay, quick fire round! Favorite color?”

“Orange.”

“Favorite food?”

“Oh, though choice, but gotta say fried rice right now.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Come on, too hard, next.”

“What do you do?” You can’t help the shit eating grin that spreads across your face.

“Mostly Marcus.”

“Hey!” Marcus hits your shoulder as you laugh.

“Alright, alright, heh. I’m not gonna go into specifics, but I work with legal stuff.” You take a last sip of your drink, shaking it to check if it’s empty. 

“And I think that’s my cue to leave folks, I should get back to my workout.” You try to leave, but Marcus hand still around yours stops you.

“What?” Marcus grins.

“You not gonna give me my goodbye kiss?” You eye his phone for a brief moment, then mentally shrug. 

Leaning forward, you press your lips to his for a kiss you intend to be brief, but Marcus quickly deepens it, even putting a hand on your hip.

When you lean back, Marcus is wearing a smug grin, and looking over to the chat it’s filled with sweating and eggplant emojis. You chuckle, letting go of his hand to ruffle his hair.

“You’re such an exhibitionist.” Marcus doesn’t deny it, but pouts as he fixes his hair and you walk away. Turning back to his phone, he starts reading the comments again.

“Wow, you guys are THIRSTY.” 

For the rest of the livestream he keeps getting comments that he seems distracted, and to be fair he is. 

He can’t help but think about you kissing him shirtless in front of so many people, and then just sauntering off.

He ends up cutting the livestream short, apologising for it being shorter than he said it would. The last comment he sees before shutting off is “Hell yeah, go get that D Marcus ;)”

---------

You have just finished your workout, and are on your way to your shower when Marcus more or less corners you in the hallway. He pushes you back against the wall, lips on yours and his arm bracketing you in. You’re surprised to say the least, but are quick to kiss back.

Marcus hands skim along the waistband of your shorts, starting to pull them down, but you stop him.

“I’m sweaty and gross.” Marcus huffs and sinks to his knees.

“Don’t care.” This time you don’t stop as he pulls at your shorts, letting them fall to the floor. He pushes his sunglasses on top of his head, taking your cock in hand, pumping it a few times. You swear and tangle a hand in his hair, careful of the sunglasses.

Marcus strokes your cock as he kisses the inside your thighs, teasingly slow about it. You grunt and pulls at his hair, clearly telling what you want to happen. 

He looks up with a smug grin, before taking the very tip of your cock into his mouth and sucking. You moan, letting your head fall back against the wall with a slight thunk.

You can feel Marcus grin around your cock as he starts to bob his head up and down, covering what he can’t get in his mouth with his hand.

He varies the pressure around your cock, sucking in seemingly random patterns as he moves his mouth up and down your shaft, occasionally pulling up so you’re barely in his mouth before sinking back down again.

You have to hold back to not buck your hips up to much, even though you just want to fuck his face.

Marcus seems to know, as he sinks down as far he can, your dick hitting the back of his throat. This earns him a loud moan from you and a hard tug on his hair. He moans around your cock, and palms his own cock trough his pants. 

You look down just then, and the sight of him is almost enough to make you come. 

His lips stretched around your cock, palming himself with eyes closed, clearly enjoying himself just as much as you are. 

Marcus opens his eyes and looks up, grinning as best as he can with his mouth full, and starts moving again. He speeds up now, causing you to grunt. You move your hand so you’re gripping his hair with both, his sunglasses clattering to the floor. 

You buck into his face, working with Marcus’s set rythm. His hand joins his mouth on your cock again, jerking you off at the same time as he sucks you off. 

You warn Marcus when you’re close to coming, and he pulls off your cock completely, but before you can complain, he’s jerking you off with both hands, and you’re coming. 

Marcus makes you come all over his face, your cum painting white streaks across his cheeks and nose, even covering the little mark he always draws on  his cheek.

When he lets go of your cock, you let go of his hair, supporting yourself on the wall. Marcus licks his lips, catching some of the cum dripping down his cheeks with his tongue.

“Fuck.” It’s all you can say and Marcus looks so smug that you tug him up by his hair, smashing your lips against his, not caring in the slightest that his face is covered in your cum as you kiss him. You somehow manage to pull your shorts back up and on without stopping kissing Marcus.

You kiss him until you have gotten a little more steady on your feet, and then you spin Marcus around, pinning him to the wall. You move from his lips to kiss along his neck, starting to suck a hickey into his skin. 

He moans, his hips moving against you, pressing his very hard cock up against you. You let one hand wander down to the front of his pants, pressing against it over his clothes.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hard.” You speak against his neck as you stroke him as good as you can trough the fabric.

“Well somebody just came all over face so...” You can hear the grin in his voice as he bucks his hips up towards your hand.

“Come on babe, open my pants and take my cock out.” You grunt against Marcus’s neck, pressing against him more, so he’s flush against the wall, your thigh pushing between his legs, adding to the pressure of your hand. Marcus moans as you bite gently down on his neck.

“No.”

“No?” Marcus pants, confused as you move your thigh and hand against him.

“No, you’re gonna come for me just like this.” Starting on another hickey, Marcus moans out loud, his hand clutching at your biceps.

“Since you’re such a show off, I think you can show me how good you can be at coming in your pants.” You lick a long stripe up the side of his neck, stopping at his ear to gently nibble at his lobe before speaking.

“Don’t act like me kissing you in front of your audience isn’t waht brought all of this on.” Marcus groans and you pull back to look at his face. He’s out of breath, clearly blushing and flustered.

“You little exhibitionist.” A particular hard press of your hand makes Marcus groan.

“You get excited by the thought of getting off in front of an audience don’t you?” Marcus nods and you grin.

“All those people watching you fall apart underneath me, watching you turn into a horny mess.” You go back to kiss along his neck, kissing over the marks from earlier, and start making new ones.

“Seeing you come all over yourself, getting covered in my cum and yours.” The breath Marcus lets out is shaky, and followed right after by a moan as he moves against your thigh, seeking friction. You grin against his skin, able to tell how close he his.

“Come on, come on, come for me.” You speed up your hand, and Marcus whines.

“Please....” 

“Please what?”

“Please touch my cock!” You hum, your own cock stirring again hearing how desperate Marcus is to get his cock touched.

“Might as well.” You quickly unbutton and unzip his pants, slipping on hand inside, taking his cock in your hand. 

Marcus moans out your name, and just a few pumps later he’s coming all over your hand and himself. You stroke him trough it, savouring the little moans and whimpers coming from his as his orgasm is drawn out. 

Letting go off his cock, you tuck him back into his pants. You put your hands on his hips, drawing him in for a kiss.

“Come on, lets go for a shower.” Marcus nods and as you try to move away, he palms your cock, making you draw in a sharp breath. 

“Looks like someone is already ready for round two.” His grin is cocky and flirty, already recovering form his orgasm. You groan.

“Shower. Now.”

[darlinvandijk]

Okay since i can sing i can just imagine reader and Ruel singing Best Part or something while it rains outside or he finds out that reader can sing when shes just singing to herself thinking that shes alone and freaking out being like "BABE WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME" "OHMYGOD WE CAN DO DUETS NOW" etc and just being obsessed with the fact that his gf can sing as well

So honestly this was written very fast and I kinda just manically typed it up and decided it was the move so I hope y’all enjoy this jumbled mess I made and I added some cute touchy fluff and a little making out because it’s quarantine and why not fuck with y’alls hormones (holy shit I’m adding in this rn before I post it and oh god I think I fucked with my own hormones as I wrote it, I’m dyING) (it’s also like kinda uhm sexual if you didn’t get the hint, NO smut, but definitely sensual towards the end!!!) :) xx

~Secrets & Rainy Days~

I pick up Ruels dirty clothes off the floor, throwing them into the hamper we have in the corner of the room, deciding that today’s rainy day would be dedicated to cleaning. Trust me, I’d rather sleep and watch Netflix all day, but when you live with a walking tornado of a boyfriend, you sometimes just don’t have a choice. We have a system though, since he does all of the cooking and errand running (usually making me go with him because he gets “lonely”), while I just tidy up the apartment once it starts to look a little messy. It’s not like he doesn’t clean at all or leaves his mess everywhere, he just doesn’t know a thing about organizing and loves to leave his dirty socks on our bedroom floor.

As I finish up our bedroom, only having to pick up a few articles of clothing, and fix our bedside tables, I hear him start to strum on his guitar. I instantly get excited, since one of my favorite parts about cleaning days, is that he always sings, giving me my own private concert. I softly smile and grab his hoodie off of our desk chair, taking it outside to him since he’s only in a t-shirt and sweats, knowing he’d sit out on the balcony and play regardless if he gets cold or not. I stop in front of his favorite outdoor sofa, laughing at the way he has an umbrella strategically placed to block the light rain coming down just so he could stay out here.

“Thanks my love, since today is cleaning day, what songs do you want to request? I also opened the other windows so you could still hear me” he softly questions, giving me a boyish grin while grabbing the hoodie from my hands. I ponder over his question before giving him a small shrug, choosing to rush from the doorway and to get under his umbrella, so I could climb up on to his lap. He lets out a laugh, setting his guitar against the chair where it could still be protected from the rain, but give him space to wrap his arms around me.

“Hm I don’t know, surprise me? You already know I love everything you sing” I mumble, pressing my lips lightly against his neck, laughing when he shivers from the contact. I press another kiss to his neck, slowly making my way around the base of his throat, leaving a trail of light pink marks as I go. I get to his favorite spot, a little bit below his ear, and lightly bite down, smirking when he lets out a groan and digs his fingers into my hips. Before I can even try to keep going, my face is pulled away from his neck, his lips instantly smashing upon mine.

I let out a light gasp as he kisses me, my mouth instantly being filled with the taste of cherry chapstick, the chapstick I know he stole from my purse. I grip on to his shoulders, his own hands gripping my hips and pulling me against him, before I start to become restless. My hands move up into his hair, lightly tugging on it as he groans into my mouth, before I swipe my tongue across his bottom lip. He pulls away from me with a chuckle, lips and face flushed red, and a light smirk on his face.

“As much as I love having you on top of me, I already know you’re going to be mad tonight if you don’t get all your organizing done, so let’s postpone this for when you’re done” he laughs out, eyes focused on the pout that forms on my face, knowing I was about to start whining. I open my mouth to complain that I want attention, only to get cut off right before I can even speak since he leans in and gives me another kiss. “Lets make a deal, once you finish up, we can do whatever you want. Sound good baby?” He says with a soft smile, knowing exactly what I was going to ask for.

“Cuddles and kisses?” I ask, resting my hands on both sides of his face, feeling the soft skin move as he presses a kiss against my palm. He gives me a small nod of approval, knowing just exactly how I like to spend our lazy days together, which is with him absolutely showering me in love and attention. “Fine, I guess I’ll go finish what I need to do, buuuut I want a kiss. Just one more” I tell him, giving him a small pout as I run my thumb across his bottom lip. He chuckles at my whining, giving my thumb a kiss, before grasping the side of my face in his hand.

“One more kiss and then you gotta go do whatever it is that you do when organizing” he whispers, his mouth pressing against mine right after. I lean in more, adding more pressure in hopes of distracting him, only for him to pull away with one last peck against my lips. “I know what you’re trying to do, it’s not gonna work this time sweetheart” he laughs, a lazy grin spreading across his face as I roll my eyes, knowing I’ll have to wait till later for him to give me more attention. I climb off of his lap, turning so I can get out from under his umbrella, when his hand flys out and roughly smacks against my ass.

“Rueloff” I screech, jumping from under the umbrella, only to end up standing in the rain, a glare heavily directed at the lanky bitch. His head is thrown back as he laughs, a sound that would usually be music to my ears, now making me want to punch him in the head. “You’re literally so annoying” I grumble out, walking back into our bedroom to change, already feeling to spots where the shirt was sticking to my skin.

“You weren’t saying that like 2 seconds ago when you were basically trying to get me to strip on our balcony” he says trying to get a rise out of me. I let out a scoff, a small smile picking at my lips though, since I could never genuinely be mad at him. I finish putting on one of his sweaters, before making my way to our living room, since that was the room that needed the most fixing up.

I start picking up the random things we leave laying around, when I hear him start to play on his guitar again, waiting to see just what song he picked out to surprise me with this time. He starts strumming the beginning chords of self control by frank, before his voice starts to drift throughout the room, a smile of pure adoration on my face as I hear the voice I love more than anything. I finish picking up all of the things left out, rearranging pillows and blankets on the couches, before deciding it’s time to do my least favorite thing. Dusting. Some might ask why I hate having to dust things off, well let me tell you why. Whenever I dust things off, it always somehow manages to just get the perfect amount of dust particles in the air, making me sneeze like crazy every time. Usually to the point where Ruel has to stop singing because he’s laughing so hard. Laughing so hard at my pain, because he’s a terrible person like that. Such a sadist honestly.

I get out the duster, completely filled with dread, only to end up filled to the brim with excitement as I hear the new song he decided to play. My heart beating out of my chest with love as he sings the song he dedicated to me, saying it almost perfectly described the love he felt for me, but not quite since no words could ever fully describe it. The sounds of him singing, with the light rain mixed in, causing me to feel nothing but pure bliss.

“You're my sunshine in the rain when it's pouring, won't you give yourself to me” I softly sing, creating a harmony only I could hear with both of our voices, lightly dusting off the tv stand that was starting to form a layer of dust. I move around the living room, singing to myself, while surprisingly not sneezing from the dust flying up into the air. Also surprisingly not hearing the guitar stop and light footsteps heading into the living room. “I just wanna see, I just wanna see how beautiful you are, you know that I see it, I know you're a star” I sing, a smile on my face as I dance and dust around our living room, completely in my own little world as the lyrics blissfully spill from my lips. Not noticing the love of my life, also in complete bliss as I sing our song, the song that has now become even more important to him. He finally decides that he can’t stay silent anymore and instantly tackles me on to our couch, absolutely smothering me in kisses.

“Baby!! You never told me you could sing, like holy shit this changes so many things” he all but screams out, his eyes almost glowing with affection as he stares down at my horrified face, which is burning in complete embarrassment as I realize he heard me singing. “Fuck I already know we have to do a duet with this but now I need to figure out all the other duets we can do” he mutters, completely ignoring me underneath him, and getting lost in all the ideas forming in his head at a rapid pace.

“Oh my god no, Ruel I literally barely sing. That wasn’t anything special” I groan out, face completely buried in his neck, not wanting him to see how red I was turning from all of his praise and attention. He roughly pulls back and stares at me in shock, acting like I just told him I ate Wilbur for breakfast. “Stop looking at me like that” I whine out, knowing he’s going to make this a huge deal, since he’s always been a bit more on the dramatic side.

“Are you kidding me? You were insane, like literally fucking legendary” he cries out, the giant grin on his face still there, and not leaving any time soon. I reach my hand up and cover my face, trying to not get even more flustered than I already was, if that’s even possible. “I’m being serious baby, you know I wouldn’t try and get you to sing with me for the fans if I didn’t think you were going to do great. You’d honestly be better than me, don’t underestimate yourself” he softly says, pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose as he finally takes in how apprehensive I am about this.

“Can we talk about this later? I’m still very mortified that this even happened and just want cuddles now” I mumble, looking up into his eyes as he stares down at me with a cute smile on his face. He nods his head before leaning down, pressing his lips against mine in a soft but love filled kiss, before he gets up and extends his hand to me. I grab his hand and get off of the couch, only to get thrown over his shoulder as he jogs to our room. I let out a shriek as he tosses me on the bed, jumping on top of me meee seconds later, before he smashes his lips on mine in a rushed manner, leaving me completely dazed.

“God I’m so fucking in love with you” he mumbles against my lips, his hands traveling all over me as he picks up the pace of our kiss, grabbing one of my legs to wrap around his waist. I let out a soft gasp as his lips travel down my neck, leaving little marks all over as he mutters how much he loves me in between kisses, my back arching up into him on instinct from his touch. “So fucking in love with you” he groans out, leaning up to press our lips together, his hands finding mine and interlocking them above my head, before I pull away completely out of breath.

“If I would have known you’d react to me singing like this, I would have sang for you a lot sooner” I gasp out, my chest heaving up and down as I try to steady my breathing, Ruels breathing just as staggered as mine. He leans in and gives me a slow kiss, completely taking my breath away again, before pulling back with my bottom lip between his teeth, letting it fall back into place slowly with a smirk on his face. “Maybe this singing thing isn’t gonna be as bad as I thought” I mutter, eyes locked on his mouth as his tongue swipes out along his bottom lip. He lets out a quiet laugh, watching the way my eyes seems to twinkle as I stare at him, his mind completely and utterly focused on me.

“Oh trust me, you’ll be singing alright”

[poisxnyouth]

bad influence dave part 2 (d.d)

A/N: i’m sorry this is so short ): i think it’s a vibe tho. enjoy. talk to me while you read & let me know what you think. love u. thank u for reading. grateful for y’allllllll

WC: 5.1k

You see David again a week after you give him your first handjob, and it’s almost embarrassing how much you’ve begun texting each other – about anything and everything. He texts you on his lunch breaks, when he gets off of work, when he’s going into work, when he’s bored, before he goes to sleep – you name it. You text him when work is slow, in the middle of church, during the weekly family dinner at your parents’, anytime — constantly attempting to see each other. 

 At noon, David texts you while you’re about to go on lunch break, usually an uneventful hour:

 It’s so slow rn. Come see me whenever you go on break. Pls. I’m losing my mind. This old woman won’t stop hitting on me. All she wants are mimosas.

 Of course, you tell him you will. Why sit in the break room and waste your own time when you can go see him? 

 He had mentioned to you in passing where he bartends; a few streets up and over, but not too far – speed walking distance if you wanted to see him for longer than thirty minutes. 

 You make it as quickly as you can, composing yourself before opening the door. As soon as David gains sight of you, the look on his face indicates you saved him from a bartender’s Hell. He fakes an excuse to the woman, the only other person in the bar, to come speak with you. He leans against it when he’s in front of you, eyes on yours.

 “Hi, baby. Do I need to card you?” he asks, watching the familiar blush spread across your cheeks, “It’s so good to see you. What are you drinking?”

 “I’m still working!” you excuse, bitching him out playfully, “Nothing!” 

 “That’s no fun,” he rolls his eyes, “It’s on me. What do you want? Actually, don’t answer that. I’ll pick.” 

 “By the way, that’s what you wear to work?” David questions, looking you up and down approvingly as he pours a shot for you, “Sexy.” 

 “If I take a shot, you have to take a shot, too,” you bargain with him, ignoring his comment as you blush even more, “We’re both working!”

 “The only way I can drink on the job is if you buy it for me,” he explains, looking around the room and the older woman, “buuuut...is anyone looking? And I’m not the lightweight here, remember?” he chuckles, “Miss Two Drinks and I’m Drunk.”

 You flush as he places your glass on the bar, “It’s tequila. Salt on the back of your hand, honey.” 

 “I know how to do a shot of tequila,” you gripe, eyes rolling as you lick the back of your hand, “Just ‘cause I’m a virgin doesn't mean-”

 “Okay,” he shrugs rudely, not caring about your defense, “Just do the shot, baby. Cheers.”

 “Cheers.”

 You clink your glasses and David’s eyes follow your tongue when you dump some salt on top of the wet skin. You lick at it, meeting his eyes and downing it. You reach for the lime and suck on it as he finishes his, taking your glass from you.

 “When can I see you again?” you ask, gazing at him as he leans against the counter, “I’m off at five.” 

 “I’m off at six. You wanna go dealing with me tonight? I need some company, and we can go back to my place afterwards,” he questions, eyes on yours, “You can weigh everybody’s shit for me and split it up.” 

 “Okay,” you agree, slightly excited at the prospect, “Do you want me to come back here when I get off?” 

 “Yes,” David replies, “I’m getting you high afterwards, though. Don’t say no. I’ll give you, like, the whole experience. Are you working tomorrow?”

 You shake your head, blushing, before he responds, “Great. Me either, so you’re spending the night.” 

 You gape at him, “I don’t have my stuff-”

 “I’ll take you by your place beforehand,” David offers, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Stop stressing, baby.”

 You sigh, hating how many hearts are filling your eyes as you gaze at him and hating that you have to leave, “Okay. I have to go. I’ll see you in a few.”

 He tells you to wait, slipping out from behind the bar and leaning his head down, kissing you. “Okay. You can go now. I’ll see you later. Wish me luck with that one over there.” 

 ++

 Five-thirty seems to be around the time the bar is getting busier due to everyone getting off of work, and the stress on David’s face is evident. He hasn't even noticed your arrival yet, attempting to keep polite conversation with his customers. 

 Six rolls around and he’s immediately clocking out, gruffly wishing his coworker good luck and making his way over to you, “Sorry, sweetheart. Fucking busy tonight. Let’s get out of here.” 

 You do, and David’s immediately lighting a cigarette and unbuttoning his black dress shirt as soon as you step outside. He had rolled the sleeves up since you last saw him, and he slips the garment off while his cigarettes and lighter are still in his hands and out of his breast pocket. 

 His black t-shirt remains, tucked into his slacks which are secured with a belt. He’s guiding you to his car silently for a few minutes, tossing out his cigarette before unlocking the vehicle and climbing in. 

 “I gotta shower before I do anything else,” David tells you, starting the car and pulling out of his spot, “It’s been like that in there since three. I’ve been sweating like a bitch; I feel disgusting.” He casually rests his free hand on the inside of your thigh as he drives, leading the small talk – as he always does. 

 David doesn’t mind being the talkative one; he likes bringing up subjects that are taboo to you, watching you refuse to meet his eyes and blush as he presses the topic, becoming more detailed as he speaks. 

 He usually goes until you tell him to stop, reacting with an affectionate rub at the skin of your thighs, “Sorry, baby, you know I like seeing you get all worked up and not know what to do about it.”

 Once at his place, he quickly showers and changes while you patiently wait on him. It takes him ten minutes, tops, before he’s ready to go. 

 “Alright,” David says casually, grabbing his keys and motioning to his bedroom door, “Come here, follow me. My roommates and I all deal at least a little bit — I’m the best one of all of us — so this is where we keep our shit.” He takes you into another bedroom, turning the lights on and pulling out his phone.

 “Okay, baby,” he sighs, “This is the part that sucks. We gotta go through what everyone wants and weigh this shit. I don’t like weighing as we go. It’s time consuming. It’s gonna take some time. Let me explain how this works. Hand me that bag.” 

 You do, grabbing it and passing it to him, “So, I’ve got a pretty big amount of this shit – for Chicago, at least. I buy from a guy who grows in Iowa, so I can get his bud for cheap and sell it for good cash here. Weed’s legal now, so it’s kind of fucking me up, but kids eighteen to twenty-one can’t buy, so they’re who I sell to the most. I don’t sell to minors — obviously.” 

 He continues, “This is a pound, and it’s the best weed I’ve had in a while. Here, in Chicago, this is worth two thousand.” 

 “Dollars?”

 “Yeah,” he laughs slightly, “I buy it for half that, but the most people usually buy at a time from me is an ounce. I go see him like, once a month? It depends on how much people are buying. It’s a long fucking trip and I always have to do it in one day because of work – maybe you can come with me next time I have to go.”

 “Anyway,” he sighs as you try to not think about how much money he must be making under the table, “We gotta do this, baby. Here’s the list of people and how much they want.” 

 Admittedly, he does all of the work, but talks you through the process and answers your questions. He weighs the weed and puts them in plastic bags according to size, writing their name and amount in Sharpie on the front.

 You get to a certain guy named Luke, and David reacts, “Oh, fuck Luke. He doesn't get the good shit and never will – I hate his stupid ass. I have a whole stash of shitty weed for him in the cabinet right there.”

 David weighs Luke’s weed and describes why it’s shitty and how you can tell, bitching about the kid, “He’s a fucking idiot, though. I overcharge him for terrible weed, and I get texts from him saying how good it is. It takes, like, an entire eighth to feel anything. He’s a rich white nineteen-year-old, so I don’t really feel bad about it.”’

 “So, how much will you make tonight?” you ask as he puts it all in one bag, sighing and doing the math in his head.

 “Fuck, I don’t know – six hundred? Six fifty? Maybe seven at the most? We can count it when we’re done,” he shrugs, “Let’s get going; it’s getting late. This is my favorite part.” 

 David goes down the list in his notes and calls them on speaker phone as he drives, script usually sounding the same for every person: “Hey, man. Do you want me to pull up or meet you somewhere? I can do either one.”

 Before he meets his first guy, David reaches over and gently tucks your crucifix into your shirt, slightly rubbing at it over your blouse affectionately, “Druggies are atheist shitheads. They’ll talk about it if they notice it. Keep it there until we’re done. I’m sorry.” 

 It’s too hot seeing him get out of his car, weed in the palm of his hand as he daps his customer up and sneakily slides the cash into his pocket before bidding them a polite farewell, keeping the conversation short. 

He has to make about fifteen stops before he’s completely done for the night; some of them ask about you, wondering your name and age, before David defends you, “Alright, bruh, just pay me. Stop hitting on my girl.” 

 After every time he says it, he feels the need to immediately apologize once you’re alone again: “Sorry again. I know you’re not my girl, but I know you don't want them trying to talk to you. It’s just easier to say you are. They’re not going to fuck with their dealer’s girlfriend – especially since you go to the parties, too.” 

 David’s parked outside of your apartment building as he quickly begins counting how much money he made, murmuring under his breath as his thumbs do all of the movement. He counts it in under ten seconds, passing the stack of cash to you, “Seven thirty-five. I was close – sold a little more. We didn't even sell that much, honestly.” 

 “Count it again,” you tell him, “I want to see that again.” 

 He chuckles, eyes glancing between you and the cash, biting at his lips as he quickly counts it again, “Seven thirty-five, baby.” 

 “Hot.”

 David laughs at you and stuffs the cash into the pocket of his shorts, “Let’s get your shit and go home, honey.” 

 It's his first time visiting your place, and he expects it to be littered with misplaced Bible references and at least semi-unorganized, but it's not: you’re as organized as he is and oddly, there’s no clear evidence of your beliefs – something which surprises the shit out of him for someone who wears a cross around their neck every single day. 

 He keeps his eyes mostly to himself as you rifle through your belongings in your room, glancing at your walls and around your living room.

 “Jesus, sweetheart, how long are you planning on staying?” He motions towards your bag once you come out, watching your eyes widen.

 “I mean...you’re saying could stay longer than tonight?” you suggest, bargaining, “Two nights. I’m off the next two days.”

 “Fine,” he gives in, eyes rolling and giggling at you slightly, “I work the day after next, but you can stay as long as you want to, baby. You’re always welcome.”  David takes a step towards you, kissing you quickly, “Put your clothes back. You’re gonna be wearing mine.”

 “No,” you resist, his hands coming to your waist, “Those are yours.” 

 “Put them back,” he repeats, kissing you, “Don’t make me tell you again.” 

 “Ugh,” you groan, listening to him and doing as you’re told – you love when he tells you what to do, and he knows it. It’s his favorite button to push. 

 You return to him, and his fingers gently tug the chain of your necklace out of your shirt, fixing it so the clasp sits at the nape of your neck. “Better. It feels wrong to see you without it.”

 ++

 David’s two roommates are home, now, and he briefly speaks with them with you standing at his side, his arm shamelessly thrown around your shoulders. 

 “Dave,” one of them calls out, “Come here. Dude. Ester called the house. Call her back.” 

 “What?” he replies, “Why the house? She has my number. Fuck, okay.” 

 You don't know who Ester is, and David sits on the couch, tugging you into his lap in front of them as he pulls his phone out. His roommates don’t seem to be paying you any mind as they watch TV and smoke, and you wonder how many other girls he’s brought home. 

 “Bro, she didn't even call my phone,” he states, rolling his eyes, “I didn't think she did. Me and Y/N were just out delivering for, like, two hours.” 

 “Oh, shit!” the other one exclaims, “You’re Y/N? Sick. Nice to meet you.”

 “Sorry, baby,” David apologizes quickly, dialing Ester and introducing you, “Dima. Ilya. Both are idiots and shitty dealers–”

 “Heeeey, Ester!” David’s tone changes immediately, “What’s up? Why’d you call the house and not me? Is something wrong?”

 You hear a voice on the other line, his arm draped around your waist as he listens, eyes rolling back, “No, Ester, I can't help you with your Precalc homework. I’m sorry, kid. You know that I took idiot classes in high school. You’ve always been smarter than me. Ask Dad! Or, better yet, why don't you just look it up?” 

 David shuffles slightly with you in his lap and lights a cig, letting you rest your head in his neck, “I’m sorry I can’t help you, honey. You know that I miss you. I want to come up next Friday...I’ll be off. Will everyone be home?” 

 It’s now obvious that he’s speaking to his sister as he listens to her chatter, absentmindedly rubbing at your back, his leg bouncing up and down, “Okay. I’ll be there. I promise. Tell Ma that I’m coming. I love you, Es. You know you can call me whenever. You’re my best friend.”

 He hangs up shortly afterwards, taking a drag from his cigarette and sighing, “Christ. Vernon Hills next week, you guys. It’s official. You fuckers are coming with me, so make sure you’re off,” David demands, motioning towards Dima and Ilya. 

 “Whatever,” he continues, standing and putting his cigarette out, pulling you with him, “We’ll be upstairs. Leave us alone – she’s staying the night and I’m off tomorrow.” 

 David daps both of them up, before Ilya speaks, “Sick. Have fun. Goodnight, bro.” 

 David quickly tells you to ignore him and leads you up to his room, shutting the door behind you. The first thing he does is rifle through his drawers, tossing clothes at you. He’s surprised at how quickly you react, requesting that he unzip the back of your dress.

 He does, slowly, pushing your hair away from your neck and patting your waist politely before removing his touch. You pull on his smallest pair of sweats, still having to tighten the draw string around your hips and slipping on one of his t-shirts. 

 You’re not sure why it feels so easy to be intimate with him in ways you never could with anyone else while only knowing of him for a few weeks; maybe it's how nonchalant he is, or how unabashed he is. Nothing is too embarrassing or unbearable for him, and it rubs off on you. 

 David’s polite, and doesn't judge you over things you’re ignorant about; he’s happy to explain and guide you if you want to know about what he does, and he fucks heavily with your eagerness to please him and learn. 

 He doesn't know if this will turn into casual hook ups or something more, he’s going to leave that up to you, but he enjoys your company and bashfulness. It makes his dick hard. 

 David casually makes out with you on his bed, hands to himself and not grabby, before pulling away and asking, “You wanna smoke?” 

 “Sure,” you reply, sitting up with him. He digs through his bedside table, muttering, “I’m gonna teach you how to roll. It takes a little bit of practice, I guess. I don’t know – I’ve been doing it for so long, I don't even pay attention anymore. Hand me that tray.” 

 You lie down on your stomach, facing him as he sits cross legged on his still-made bed. He breaks open a pack of Berry Dutch cigarillos with his teeth, "So, the first step is to split it. Some people can crack a blunt with just their hands. I can't. I need a blade for it." He grabs a razor blade from the tray before sliding the edge of the blade down the middle of the blunt precisely.

 "You want it to be a spliff or a blunt? You pick, I don't care," he asks you, watching your clueless features, clarifying, "A spliff has tobacco still mixed in with the weed, and a blunt is straight weed.”

 “Um,” you shrug, meeting his eyes, “Blunt, I guess.”

 "Okay," he replies, dumping tobacco onto the tray, "Scrape out the tobacco. I’ll clean it up later."

 David grabs his weed and his grinder, "Grind your weed down into shake – it takes, like, a gram or a gram and a half to fill up a blunt." He stuffs the grinder and closes it, twisting it and tapping the top.

 “I don't smoke what I sell,” he explains, “My personal stuff is from one of my buddies in Vernon Hills.”

 “Oh,” you reply confusedly, “Why not?”

 “‘Cause Biggie said not to,” David shrugs, quoting, “‘Rule Number Four: I know you heard this before, ‘Never get high on your own supply.’ You know, like, Scarface?” 

 “...What are the other rules?” You ask, not getting it.

 He chuckles, scoffing slightly, “Later, babe.”

 “Anyway,” he says, getting back to the subject, “Some people put in a filter at the front, but...I don't have time for that. I’m too impatient for it," he explains, "Hold the blunt wrap and dump it, but make it even."

 He spreads out the shake into the blunt while flattening it against the tray, folding the seams over each other, "Roll."

 "You lick," he demands, leaning down and holding up the edge for you to lick, "Along the line. Not too much, though. Just enough."

 You obey and he watches your tongue, making a soft noise at the sight, "Goooood. Now, we stick it."

 David sticks the seams together, folding and pressing them together, "Okay, now you bake it, baby."

 He fumbles for his lighter, a fancy refillable Zippo, flipping it open and running it over the sides to ensure they stay conjoined. He puts it between his lips, lighting it and blowing out the flame at the end.

 David hits it, placing the tray on the floor by his bed, passing it to you, “Done. It’s pretty easy, just remember: split, empty, grind, stuff, roll, lick, stick, and bake.” 

 You get better at hitting it by yourself every time you smoke with him, exhaling easily as you scoot over to him. You pass it back to David as he lies against his headboard, tugging you into his chest and placing his hand on your waist. 

 “David,” you say after a few minutes of passing it back and forth, him grunting out a Hmm? a response, “Um. You asked me last week what I like. I don't know, but what do you like?” 

 “I’m not telling you yet,” he stifles a laugh, moving to put the roach out in an ashtray on his nightstand, “‘Cause I don't want you to like something just ‘cause I do. You wanna find out what you like?” 

 “Yeah,” you nod, blushing, “For you.” 

 “Okay,” he gives in, shrugging, “Can I touch you?” 

 You nod as he sits up and stands from the bed, “Whatever you wanna do. Go ahead.” 

 David tells you to stay where you are, rubbing at his eyes and grabbing his laptop, tossing it on his bed in front of you, “We’re gonna watch porn. Take the sweats off.” 

 “Wait-,” you say nervously, chewing at your lips, “Nevermind. Okay.” You obey him, untying the string and pushing the garment past your hips, already nervous. 

 “Don’t get anxious, baby,” David reassures as he climbs into bed with you again, “I’ve got you – this is just the easiest way to find out. Sit between my legs.” 

 He leans his head over your shoulder and logs into PornHub, wrapping one of his arms around your torso comfortingly as he feels you already blush against him. You’re visibly mortified as he clicks a video in his recommended tab, his free hand coming to palm you over your underwear. 

 You make a slight noise before he hushes you quietly, “Watch. Don’t touch yourself.” 

 David doesn't move his hand as he reads your body language, not watching the video at all as you buck up into his touch. “You like that or you like me touching you?” 

 “You,” you reply, clearing your throat and repeating yourself, “You.”

 “Stop thinking about me being here,” he advises, voice gruff behind you, “Think about me doing the things to you that they’re doing. Think how you would if I wasn't here. Got it?”

 You nod against him, eyes on the screen as he holds you close to him, your back pressed against his torso. Your breath becomes heavy as you watch the man eat the woman out and finger her, wanting it to be you and David. Your pussy must be thinking the same thing you are as you involuntarily twitch and clench against his touch.

 David murmurs in approval, “Good. Just like that, baby.” 

 He switches to another video, a deep throatfuck, and watches your face as the woman gags around her partner – lips parted and breathing heavily. Again, you want it to be you and David, but you tell him this time, cheeks red: “I wanna be able to do that for you.” 

 “We can work up to that,” he presses a sloppy kiss to your neck, “I like that too.” 

 “That’s enough of that for now,” David says, reaching forward and shutting the computer, “We can do it again tomorrow. We’re not done – I want to touch you.” 

 He breathes over your shoulder, muttering and tugging at the waistband of your underwear, “But can you take these off for me?” 

 You do, slipping them down your thighs and legs before he moves from behind you. David props you against the pillows, where he was, and lies on his stomach between your legs, scooting himself closer.

 “Jesus fucking Christ,” he comments as his eyes land on your pussy, gasping softly and glancing back up at you, “Can I touch you?” 

 You say a quiet yeah before his fingers are spreading your pussy apart delicately with one hand, the other arm wrapping around one of your thighs. He places his free hand on top of your stomach affectionately, eyes flitting between you and your pussy. 

 “Oh, God,” David says to himself, fingertips running over your folds and collecting your slick. You’re so wet he can hear every move his fingers take, and David takes it upon himself to press kisses up along the inside of your thigh, meeting your eyes and watching your face as he slips his middle finger inside of you.

 There's so much resistance that, even with your wetness, he can barely get it inside of you. He watches your mouth drop open silently in response, before he speaks, “Holy fuck. I don't know what I was expecting, but you’re so tight.”

 “If it hurts at any point, tell me,” he advises, moving his arm from around you to spread you apart again, still in disbelief at the sight, “Fuck me.”

 You’re embarrassed as he spits on you for more lube, spreading it around and rubbing it in before trying to move his finger again. You gasp as he hits the knuckle and he glances up at you quickly, not saying anything – he knows the difference between a good and a bad gasp.

 “Jesus,” David advises, pulling his finger out slowly and spreading you apart, “I can literally see your…”

 He cuts himself off and trails, not wanting to finish his sentence, moving from between your legs and into his nightstand. You make a noise before he hushes you, “Shh. Give me a sec. I’m not done. This’ll make it easier.” 

 He grabs lube and settles between your thighs once more, putting some on his fingers and beginning to touch you, “It doesn't even look like you touch yourself.” 

 “I don’t,” you admit, embarrassed as he gapes at you slightly.

 “Oh, my God,” he says simply, slipping his middle finger in easier this time, “So you’ve never cum?” 

 You shake your head and he exhales sharply, beginning to move it in and out, “I’ve got you, baby. Don’t be nervous.” 

 “Relax, babygirl. You’re too tense right now – even with the weed,” he comments, still working, “Stop thinking so much.” 

 You sigh and nod, trying to relax yourself, but it doesn't work, and David pulls away entirely, “Now’s not a good time.” 

 “What? Yes-” you attempt to reply before he cuts you off, shaking his head.

 “No. It’s not,” he moves to lie next to you as you slip the sweats back on, kissing your forehead, “It’s okay. It’s not a bad thing, I promise. You’re just super in your head right now. We can try again later.” 

 “Ugh, I just want to be able to-”

 “I know,” he replies, moving to light a cigarette, “I know, honey. We’re both high, though – maybe when we’re sober.” 

 You move to rest your head in his neck as he gazes at the ceiling, “Your pussy is so nice, no cap.” 

 “It is?”

 “Hell yes,” he says confidently, “Ugh. Wow. I’m gonna have dreams about that one tonight.” 

 “David...” you trail nervously, anxious to ask your question, “Can I ask you something? How many girls have you been with?”

 “Honestly, sweetheart,” he replies with ease, still nonchalant about something so personal, “I don't know anymore. I don’t keep track. Maybe thirty? I don't even remember most of their names. If you’re asking because of, like, STDs - you don’t gotta worry about anything. I’m clean.” 

 “That’s not why I was asking,” you clarify, getting the guts to take his cigarette from him and taking a drag, easily now, “I wasn’t worrying about that, but literally, like...how?” 

 He shrugs as you pass the Camel back to him, “You’re a nice girl, baby. I’m not nice. That’s how.”

 Your eyebrows scrunch together as you move to look at him, “You are nice, though.” 

 David scoffs, “Honey, I’m a drug dealer. Just because I’m a good man doesn’t mean I’m nice.”

 “Yeah, but...you’re nice to me? You don’t even have to be. You could be mean and I’d still want to have sex with you and stuff.” You’re still confused as he takes a final drag and puts out his cigarette, tugging you closer.

 “You saying that is exactly why I’m not a nice guy,” he promises, “Because you don’t even have to tell me that. I know you would.” 

 You don’t understand at all and you sigh against him, David continuing, “I know that I’m nice to you, baby, but that’s because I like you. Why are you even picking me to do this with?”

 You roll to settle on top of him, looking up at him, “I don’t really know. I just trust you. Don’t deflect...You like me? I thought you just wanted to fuck me once and leave.”

 “Ew, it’s so weird hearing you curse,” David reacts, nose scrunching up, “Yeah, I like you. No shame in it.”

 He pushes your hair out of your face and licks his lips as he watches you blush at his words, replying, “I like you, too.”

 “Yeah?” he says, “Your parents definitely wouldn’t.”

 You roll your eyes, “My parents can - Ugh. I’m twenty-two. I can date who I want. I don’t want my father knowing what goes on in bed, and honestly? It’s kind of weird that he feels the need to know.” 

 “Jeez,” David’s eyebrows fly up, “I thought you were, like, devout.” 

 “I am,” you shrug, “But just because he took a celibacy vow doesn’t mean I can’t get laid. He’s not even a priest, ‘cause he has kids. The Church won’t let him be. Ever.”

 “So, what is he, then? My parents are Catholic, but they don’t go to church here. They said they liked Slovakia’s better,” David asks, eyes on yours, “‘Cause, you know, they speak Slovak.” 

 “I don’t even know what he is,” you admit, “He won’t tell us. My mom knows. He’s just not a priest. I think he resents me and my brothers for it.” 

 “Bruh,” David says informally, rolling his eyes, “I’m sorry, but, like...fuck your dad.” 

 “No, I agree. It’s okay,” you shake your head, “Fuck my dad.”

 “Ew,” he reacts the same way, “Stop it. It sounds so dirty coming out of your mouth.” 

 You giggle and move up to kiss him slowly, arms wrapped around each other, before David breaks, “After we fuck, lemme meet your parents.” 

 You laugh slightly, surprised, “Okay. Why? You’re gonna have...to not be you.”

 “Because,” he kisses you again, “I just want the satisfaction of knowing I railed the fuck out of their daughter when it’s something they fear so much.”

 “You’re such a bad influence,” you press, rolling your eyes, “You’re gonna ruin me.” 

 “You want it,” he rolls both of you over, now hovering over you, “That’s the goal.”

 “I guess so.”

[justallamaimaginingthings]

Jaime Lannister x Reader [I won’t lose you too]

Requests: “ Helloo have you watched the latest episode of got yet? If so could you please write something for jaime x starkreader along the lines of the episode, I mean like the stuff that happens to brienne and jaime but just with the reader and jaime?? I'm so emotional rn thanks hun” by Anonymous

“ Legit still reeling from last nights episode... But more importantly Im a hoe to Jaime Lannister (lol) and was wondering if you could write an imagine based off of #94 from the prompt list ???” by Anonymous

Prompt: 94: "I won’tlose you too"

Words: 1500

A/n: Honestly the only thing I have to say about GoT right now is what the fuck? I can’t believe they messed up almost every character like this. G R R Martin once said GoT was about redemption among other things. WHERE”S THE BLOODY REDEMPTION D&D????

Before the battle of Winterfell you had been almost certain you wouldn't make it out of this mess alive and upon actually seeing the army of the dead for the first time no doubts had been left. And yet, as if by some miracle you survived alongside Jaime. The moment the dead disintegrated into dust the only thing you had strength to do was run to the Lannister and pull him in a bone crushing hug.

Jaime swore that never in his life had he felt happier than the moment when he realized you were alive. If he wanted to be honest, he'd admit that he didn't think he would survive Winterfell nor did he think he deserved to. However, when he felt tears of relief run down your cheeks as you sobbed in his arms, he couldn't help but be thankful he made it.

"It's over. You're okay, we're okay" he reassured you while gently removing the tears from your cheeks, turning your head up to meet your eyes "Hey, look at me. We made it" he repeated and it took all the man in him not to let his own tears fall.

"We did" you agreed finally allowing yourself to feel safe, closing your eyes and leaning back into his arms while his grip on your waist tightened in a protective manner. The war was over and Jaime was alive and for now that was all you needed.

The following days were more than hectic. Everyone was just happy to be alive and many celebrations took place, but still you knew the actual war hadn't even begun yet. Things between you and Jaime were almost like they always had. That almost including long pauses during your talks where you'd just stare at each other. The emotional tension of those moments could be cut with a knife but neither of you were ready to admit it, and things got even more intense at night. You hadn't realized the trauma the War of the Dead had left on you until you were woken up by Jaime in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat.

"Jaime?" you asked hesitantly wincing at how hoarse your voice sounded

"I could hear you screaming from my room" he replied simply making a wave of realization wash over you "I thought it'd be best to wake you up" he added slowly getting up from the bed when your hand wrapped around his wrist while your eyes locked into his in a silent plea. Not needing words, Jaime lied down next to you on the bed. The both of you were too tired to say anything else. Instead, you snuggled closer to him and the both of you fell asleep like this. As days went by, the same thing happened every night. You'd wake up screaming and always Jaime would be there to make everything go away with his loving touch and reassuring presence. Mornings became the best part of your day, as you'd find yourself nestled up in his arms, Jaime's sleeping face being the first thing you'd see waking up.

That night was no different. However, instead of waking up by the northern sun hitting your face, you woke up to the sound of the door closing. Snapping your eyes open you managed to get a glimpse of Jaime leaving your room. Instantly, you jumped out of bed and followed him.

A few minutes later, Jaime had found himself staring at your sleeping form as he tried to put his thoughts into order. If there was one thing he was sure of was the fact that he loved you. He had for a long time, he realized, but never actually found the guts to admit it. However, even if you did love him back, he knew he was not worth of your love. Since the moment he met you, you had been kind and caring towards everyone. You had a heart of gold and you never hesitated to defend the innocent, while he… Jaime had been everything but honorable and his past deeds were enough to confirm that. Not only had he ignored every chance life gave him to become a better man but he had also murdered and hurt innocent without the slightest hint of remorse. All of that for Cersei. Sure, since the moment he met you, Jaime had tried to change, but nothing he could do would be able to outlive his past. There was no hope left for him… With that thought, he quietly gathered his things and closed the door behind him, hoping that one day, maybe long after he was gone, you'd be able to forgive him. The sound of footsteps behind him made him halt his actions and turn to you.

"King's Landing is going to burn. You know that" you stated trying to stay collected no matter how much the thought of him leaving hurt you.

"It doesn't matter" he dismissed you turning back to saddling his horse.

"Jaime, please" you begged grabbing his arm to make him look at you. What was left of your heart shattered when you saw the broken and empty look on his eyes.

"You think I'm a good man. I pushed a boy out of a tower window and crippled him for life. For Cersei. I strangled my cousin with my own hands. For Cersei. I would have murdered every man, woman and child in Riverrun for Cersei. She's hateful. And so am I" he said making your eyes fill with tears and your heart break for him. He looked like he had made his choice, but so had you.

"Maybe you have been, but you're a changed man now" you began and framed his face in your trembling hands to encourage him to listen to you "Since then, I've seen you risk everything to defend innocents and to defend me. You are a good man, Jaime Lannister. I do now think that, I know it. You will never be like her."

"One good action is not enough to redeem a life of mistakes" he insisted gently cupping your hand in his prompting you to let go of him, which you refused.

"Jaime, I'm begging you. The only thing that awaits you there is death and distraction. If you stay here, you can have a new life, we could have a new life together. Please, I won’t lose you too" by that point you had given up trying to hold back your tears as you allowed yourself to completely crumble in from of Jaime. Laying a soft kiss on your palm he looked into your eyes letting a sad smile make its way to his lips.

"I can't be saved, Y/n. I'm too far gone, please forgive me" No matter how promising the prospect of starting a different life with you by his side sounded, he was certain he did not deserve it.

"Everyone can be saved. Don't do this, I… I love you. Let me help you" your words seemed to hit a nerve as you could swear you saw a glimmer of hope shine in his eyes even for just a moment.

"You deserve better" he argued but his tone was not as decisive as it had been before. Praying to any god out there that this would work, you made one last attempt to save him from himself.

"I don't want better, I want you. I need you here with me" you insisted and thankfully those words actually made a difference. Jaime knew he could never escape his past and the things he'd done or be good enough for you, but seeing the loving and yet desperate look on your eyes made him think that maybe there was a chance of learning to live with them.

Finding himself unable to speak, he grabbed your waist and crashed his lips at yours lighting a spark deep inside you. The taste of salty tears was evident in the kiss but neither of you cared. His grip on your nightshirt was harsh and gentle at the same time as he melted into your touch. Feeling his hands shaking, you deepened the kiss even more trying to put all your feelings in it.

"I love you" he whispered after the kiss was broken, voice thick with emotion as the tears finally fell from his eyes. That was all you needed to hear to realize you had actually got to him. Being more thankful than ever before in your life you hugged him tightly, relishing the knowledge than the worst had been avoided.

You knew Jaime's past had left its scars on him, and it would take a long time to heal, but there was nothing you wanted more than to be there for him through it. Even though Jaime felt he would never be enough for you, he swore he would try his best to be a better man. Sure, there was no escaping for his haunting past, but for the first time ever he believed that maybe there was actually a chance for him to be happy and that chance was by your side.

[chronicmoonsunglow]

hi. this is me. this is my bf. and this right here, is the beginning of my blog. i have bipolar disorder type 1. i’ve known for about two months. been on anti-depressants for three months and mood stabilizers for two now. currently, i have not been able to work for over a week now. i have been in bed and super low on energgg. i feel like i can’t tell my doctor how im feeling bcos i feel he’ll just call bullshit on me and tell me to get my ass up and get to work and do the things i know i need to do to get better. and i reeeeally don’t need to hear that. maybe that won’t be his reaction i really don’t know, but i can’t risk hearing something like that rn. anyhow, this is the reason i’m opening this blog. it’ll veeery likely have overly personal information with the intention to share to the world, who ever is out there, the things i feel i can’t say in therapy or to friends and family. hopefully someone will connect with what im saying and the benefits won’t be one-way-only.

this picture was taken before COVID-19. and before i knew i had bipolar. this is the last gathering i went to. we were at my bf’s friend’s house. he’s very sociable, my boyfriend. the entire opposite to me. i get seveeere social anxiety episodes where i sweat i shake i get nauseous dizzy foggy light headed and veeery weak. that specific situation i got all of the above. no reason. i just didn’t feel right. i had an intense urge to disappear. i didn’t want to be looked at, i looked down most of the time, if someone spoke to me (which they did and they were super lovely super nice people) i’d squeeze my palms with my long nails as hard as i could. until the only thing i could hear was “i wanna go, i wanna go, i wanna go, i wanna go”

(imagine my panic when this camera was flipped out in front of me— i squeezed harder! )

i would hate on myself so much in these situations. i would call my self all kinds of things. i thought this was all me, all stupid me being my worst fucking enemy. it was a fucked up loop impossible to break. 15 minutes into the gathering i finally found strength to move. i got up and went over to my boyfriend. he was laughing and socializing super lound, the center of the conversation which is not rare at all. first i tried waiting for him to notice me behind him. i stood quietly as to not interrupt since there were like five people paying attention to him. i knew that if in that moment his attention shifted to me, theirs would too.

so i waited, but waiting became excruciating after three seconds. my anxiety built up greatly since i felt stupid just standing there. so i poked him a couple of times and he said wait. mmm not good. feeling worse. then i said MIMI (thats our mutual nickname— mimi) kind of loud and desperately. his attention was mine. i want to go. he didn’t hear me until the third time because i spoke so so low. at first he thought it was ok to uber me home on my own. which would’ve been fine in normal circumstances. i wouldn’t mind him wanting to hang out more than 15 mins with his highschool friends he hadn’t seen in a while. before i knew it he was asking the owner of the house to call me an uber and then the owner started asking why i wanted to leave and then the uber was on its way and i was like shitshitshitshit. anyway. i told my boyfriend i needed him to take me. he asked why, and then i said PLEase, just take me, to the edge of tears.

finally he understood, and we left.

i still wait for the day that the solution to these feelings isn’t leaving. i cannot deal with such intense emotions in public. i don’t know why i needed to share this. i guess i need it to be in the past. i guess i want to highlight that all of that does not mean im less. or that im stupid. or that i should despise myself for it. its social anxiety. and its bipolar. it has a name. and that name isn’t Marcelle (my name). and also, it can be treated.

i guess i told this story to encourage those of you who feel identified in any way while reading, to go to therapy and to face these things, they can go away, there’s a way out of the loop. and its speaking up. ugly thoughts are just that. ugly, manipulative and lying thoughts.

stay strong. let your best self be the one to attend your next gathering after COVID-19 finally allows it.

thanks for reading. and welcome to my blog.

-MOONSUN