#my stomache just aches rn oh god

[misiahasahardname]

i found a photo of me in the hospital after my first seizure and i am wearing the most HORRENDOUS combination of clothing imaginable 😭😭

thinking of redrawing it with mikey because epileptic 2012 mikey is real

[loonylupinblack3]

Period Trouble

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think?

Summary: you wake up with your period and are forced to go on a mission with Logan of all people

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: literally obsessed with this man rn so ofc i had to write about him. also wolverine has enhanced senses including smell but its like…. barely shown in the movies so i had to search it up to be sure, and some part of me still doubts it but for the purposes of this fic he does have it

You woke up with a groan, immediately curling into a ball. You were early. You were early and you hadn’t emotionally or physically prepared for having your period today, yet the world seemed ready to punish you, burdening you with an early cycle.

You checked the time, cursing every god and deity you knew when you realised you were supposed to have woken up half an hour ago. Wincing, you got up, your body screaming at the movement. Already your stomach was aching, the ghosts of cramps to come caressing your body. 

There was knocking at your door, quiet yet firm. You already knew it was Storm on the other side of the door, no doubt in search of a reason why you failed to get up on time. It was going to be a long day.

You yelled out to Storm, promising to be out in five minutes, and got up, groggily looking for your clothes. When you’d tamed your hair and brushed your teeth, you exited your room to find Storm waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

She took one look at you and sighed. “What are you wearing?”

You looked down perplexed. “....my clothes?”

She raised her eyebrow. “You’re on a mission today, remember?”

Fuck. You nearly let out a whine. You were not in the mood to go skulking around doing Xavier’s bidding when you had a constant throbbing pain assaulting your stomach, unreasonable mood swings, and exhaustion weighing you down.

Storm sent you a questioning look. “You up for this?”

The mission was nothing big. Professor X needed you to collect some sort of rare herb that had recently been shipped into the nearest city, something he needed to complete a super secret experiment you weren’t privy to. He’d just asked for help and you’d volunteered.

Oh how you regretted that decision now.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you muttered. “Let me just get changed real quick.”

Getting into your previously decided upon outfit, a plain inconspicuous one intended to blend in, you left your room again, this time with no complaint from Storm. Your stomach gave an uncomfortable clench and you sighed, making a mental note to find some nurofen before leaving for the mission.

“Why aren’t you in your outfit?” you asked, just realising Storm wasn’t wearing what you two had agreed upon yesterday.

She winced slightly. “Can’t go. Filling in for some classes.”

Your face soured but you tried not to hold it against her. Storm loved her students, and given the choice of helping them or Xavier with a low level mission, she’d obviously choose her kids. You couldn’t blame her exactly, but it meant you’d have to go on this mission alone, while not impossible by any means it would make it slightly more difficult.

You sighed. “That’s okay. I can go alone.”

When Storm winced even more your eyes narrowed in suspicion, following her with caution. “Storm…..”

She sighed guiltily. “Xavier didn’t want you to go alone. The herb’s too valuable.”

You tilted your head slightly as you entered the house’s foyer. “So who am I going with then?”

Storm’s eyes darted ahead, and you followed her gaze to find Logan Howlett leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smirked at you, “you’re looking at him sweetheart.”

You resisted the urge to groan, instead sending Storm a dirty look. You didn’t necessarily dislike Logan, but he was a lot to deal with, and you were already tired from your day that had barely begun.

You couldn’t say all that with Logan standing there however, so you muttered a, “lovely,” and walked past the man to the garage.

He followed you silently, no quip or smart ass comment which was strange for him. You’d just entered the garage, heading towards one of the cars, when you glanced back at him and found Logan stopped in the doorway, staring at you with a frown on his face. Or rather, a deeper frown than usual.

“What is it?” you asked him, standing at the hood of the car.

Logan’s eyes roved your body, searching for something. “You’re injured.”

It was your turn to frown. “What? No I’m not.”

He took a step forward, almost as if he was planning on looking for your alleged injury himself. “Don’t bullshit me Y/n, I can smell your blood.”

You made a face. “What are you talking about…..” you trailed off when you realised it, perhaps the most mortifying moment in your life.

Logan could smell your period blood. He thought you were bleeding from an injury. 

You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

He scoffed, walking towards you until you were face to face. You tried to step back and felt the hood of the car against your legs. “I can smell the fucking blood seeping out of you Y/n. I wouldn’t call that fine.”

You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I can assure you, I am not injured.”

You moved to walk past him but he caught your wrist, forcing you back into your position pressed against the car. “If you think I am going on this mission with you while you’re wounded, you’re out of your mind.”

“I’m not-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot darl? Is that why you’re denying being hurt while I can literally smell it on you-”

You cut him off. “I’m on my period, Logan.”

He paused, staring at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You waited for him to speak, feeling embarrassed and furious about it. Why should you be embarrassed of your period? He was the one who was pushing you, prodding you, forcing you to tell him the source of the bleeding. If your answer made him uncomfortable, that wasn’t your fault nor your concern.

Eventually he spoke. “Alright then. Get in the car. I’m driving.”

You scowled at him. “Says who?”

He didn’t even bother looking at you, already in the driver’s seat. “Says me.”

You sighed but didn’t argue further, silently getting into the passenger seat. Logan started the car, reversing it out of the garage and driving down the long winding driveway till you got to the street.

“It’s an hour's drive to the city, give or take,” you told Logan, setting the GPS up on the car.

Logan barely glanced at it, eyes on the road, a firm grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t even respond to you. You sighed and turned away, looking out the window as the scenery passed you in flashes.

As the drive continued, you noticed Logan sending you glances every now and then. If you really focused on them, you’d almost say they seemed worried, concerned even, but they were always too quick for you to tell for certain. You were too preoccupied with your cramps that had started up anyway, and the lack of nurofen you’d forgotten to grab.

Finally, you arrived at the city, driving into the hustle and bustle of the crowded area. Logan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, obviously not a fan of the traffic the city provided. You watched the stream of people through the window as Logan looked for a space to park, muttering under his breath.

You were mildly entertained at the amount of road rage he had, cursing every car that wasn’t at least 10 metres over the speed limit. His jaw was clenched, hand fisting the steering wheel, yet he still looked at you here and there, like you were actually wounded.

When he eventually found a parking spot the two of you got out of the car and you looked at the address Xavier gave you.

“Should be somewhere along this street,” you murmured, eyes flicking from the piece of paper to the busy street.

Logan moved behind you, so close you could feel your back against his chest, and looked at the paper in your hand. He let out a grunt and moved past you, walking forwards. You frowned and hurried your pace, not wanting to lose him amidst the crowd of people.

Luck was certainly not your side, because soon enough you’d lost him, unable to see his black leather jacket in the throng of people. You hesitated, wondering if you should look for him or just go straight to the address, when you felt an arm around your waist.

“Stay close to me,” Logan murmured into your war, his voice gravelly. “Don’t wanna lose you again.”

You glanced at him as he continued walking, not moving his arm from your waist. “How’d you find me?”

He gave you a smirk. “Followed the smell of blood.”

Again you felt your cheeks heat but you glared at him defiantly, refusing to be embarrassed. He smirked at you, flashing his teeth, as you arrived in front of the address, a plain building home to some sort of florist. 

Logan finally took his hand from your waist, walking to the door with you trailing behind him. A bell gave a little jingle as you entered, and you were immediately assaulted with the smell of flowers. Different sorts of plants took up every corner of the room and Logan’s face soured as he looked around, obviously not pleased with the environment.

An old woman sat behind a desk, watering a plant with a mini watering can. You walked up to her, Logan hot on your heels. When you stopped in front of the desk Logan was so close behind you you could actually feel his chest against your back.

“Mrs May?” you asked.

The old woman looked at you with a smile, her eyes crinkling. “That’s me. What can I help you two lovebirds with? Bouquet of roses? Lilies?”

You opened your mouth, surprised, and tried to find something to say. Being mistaken for a couple shouldn’t have affected you so much, especially while on a mission, but you were flustered and could still feel Logan’s chest right against your back, his warmth almost dizzying.

“We’re not here for flowers unfortunately,” Logan spoke, saving you. Except why didn’t he specify you weren’t a couple? Did that not matter to him, what some old lady thought, or did he enjoy the idea of being thought of as your boyfriend?

Oh god. What were you thinking? Stupid period hormones. 

The old lady looked at you two curiously. “Then how can I help you?”

There was a pointed silence and you realised Logan was waiting for you to speak. You cleared your throat and spoke the random sequence of words Xavier had you memorise, that would inform Mrs May just what type of buyers you were.

The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition and she nodded her head slowly. “Ah, yes, let me just go to the storage room quickly, I’ll be back….”

Mrs May tottered around the desk and through a side door, half hidden behind the multitude of plants covering the area, leaving you alone with Logan.

You took a step away from him and turned around to look at him, finding him staring at you with a frown on his face.

You frowned back at him. “What’s up with you today?”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “What is up with me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed Darl but you haven’t exactly been up to par yourself.”

You rolled your eyes at his words. “That’s not what I meant, and besides, I’m on my period.”

Logan stared at you, arms crossed. “What did ya mean then?”

“You’ve been acting strange. Less talkative and annoying like usual.”

Logan snorted. “Ever the lady.”

“I’m serious. What’s up with you?”

Logan sighed and took a step forward until he was towering over you and you had to crane your head up to look at him. “You are what’s up. I can constantly smell you bleeding, and I can’t get it out of my mind that it means you’re hurt. You’re driving me crazy sweetheart.”

Well…. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Logan smirked down at you as if he knew that, and enjoyed surprising you. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted to the floor. “Well, that’s hardly my fault.”

Logan chuckled. “Not your fault no, but it is your doing whether you mean to or not.”

You swallowed, looking back up at him. “Well…. Don’t you constantly smell when people are on their periods?”

“It’s different with you. Smelling your blood just drives me crazy, plain and simple. Can’t get the instinct out of my head that blood means injury.”

The way Logan was admitting all of this, with such calm, made you think he’d been wanting to say this for a while. The unspoken confession was there, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it.

“I’m glad you care,” was what you landed on, unsure of what else to say.

Logan chuckled again, one hand snaking to your waist. “I do a lot more than care, Y/n.”

You smiled softly, looking up at him. With his other hand he brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The sound of a door closing brought you out of your little bubble and you took a step back, Logan reluctantly letting go of your waist.

Mrs May, either not having seen you two or graciously deciding to ignore it, passed you a package, informing you the herb and all information involving it was inside, and to handle it with care. You nodded and thanked the old woman before exiting the building, Logan again right on your heels.

As soon as the shop’s door closed behind you Logan’s hand was back around your waist. “Not losing you this time.”

You tried not to smile, though internally you were grinning like a maniac, and let Logan lead the two of you back to the car. You didn’t even get to argue your case of driving this time, Logan already in the driver’s seat. You sighed and got into the passenger seat, resigning yourself to another hour of silence as Logan started driving, when you felt his hand on your thigh.

You looked at him but he didn’t say anything, just gave it a light squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked away, grinning. So maybe the world didn’t have it out for you after all.

[yandere-sins]

Ivyyyyyyyy >.< you're the worsttttt(read: BEST) oh my god the thoughts im having abt dilic with a period kink rn. Gawd and he doesn't even know it's a period kink, he thinks it's absolutely normal to do nasty things with his girl while she's bleeding out and feels proud about it that HE can take her pain away

OMG continuing the diluc saga but yan dilic thinks darling's period is the perfect opportunity to finally put his hands on darling. He knows you're in pain so he promises, he's doing this for YOU not him (lies) he'll ease it in gently and make it feel good! Soon darling will forget all about those cramps bc of him him him! He doesnt need to feel as guilty bc he's helping you out.....right? OMG PLS write something abt thissss, it can be any yandere or oc but im going crazy after what u saiddd

Hehe, you're welcome! I began writing this as just a talk, but decided mid-way through to make it a scenario!

a/n: I wrote this before my hiatus and coming back to correct it, I found so many mistakes, it doesn't even feel like I wrote this smh... I did my best to polish it a bit since I can't see myself rewriting it in the future but if you find anything oddly worded just ignore it lol I wasn't myself back then :')

[Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content]

I can just see the cock cogs turning in this idiot's head as he racks his brain about how he can help you. Clearly, you're in pain, but no matter how many more times he calls a physician to have a look, they just keep waving off his concerns. It's normal, they say. You're healthy. That's what everyone has to go through.

And yet he sees you writhing and crying in pain—it's breaking his heart!

Pillow pressed to your stomach, tears in your eyes that you can't blink away fast enough before they fall. You're especially irritable, but it hurts him more when you whine and complain; Diluc wanting to help you now more than ever. He's already gone through the usual stuff, the imported water bottles from Snezhnaya and the chocolate from Fontaine. If you utter so much as a craving, he has the servants scramble to get it to you. Nothing is too expensive or too hard to get. You could have asked for the heads of your enemies, and Diluc would have brought them to you with ribbons and glitter if that had helped with your pains.

But alas, it doesn't.

It's been three days, and his nerves are raw, the bags under his eyes dark, and the burden of your health weighs heavily on Diluc. He can't see how things will ever get better. The other times you were on your period were conveniently skipped by business trips, so this is hitting him full force.

"Exercising might help," one of the maids suggests as he forces himself to consult someone more knowledgeable than him.

"Sometimes, my wife likes a little stimulation to alleviate the pain," a vintner chuckles, winking at Diluc as the word of his helplessness spreads. And suddenly, inappropriate ideas get stuck in his head, making him blush like a young lad in love.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Taking a deep breath, Diluc raised his hand to knock on your bedroom door. It was terribly late, the servants asleep and only the eery flickering of his candle guiding him through the night. Most likely, you were tugged in and fighting for your well-deserved sleep, so he hesitated, fist hanging in the air before slowly dropping it to his side.

What he was about to do was not only foolish but also filled him with the same burning in his body as using his vision did. He could feel the warmth sweep over him from his head to his toes, the latter curling in his shoes while most of the heat was throbbing between his legs, aching to connect with your warmth in a less-than-innocent way.

However, these feelings were nothing compared to the agony of the last few days.

If this was what he had to do to help you alleviate the pain, he would. If it was for you, Diluc would do anything in his power, whether to protect or help you. If he had to become a mere plaything so you'd be freed of the pain, then his concerns were a small sacrifice for all the good he was going to do.

Brushing his hair back, Diluc took a deep breath, reminding himself there was nothing wrong with wanting to help. If the method the vintner suggested worked, everyone would be happy. And if not, he'd keep searching for ways to free you of the pain. Turning the key in the door lock, he pulled it out before slowly entering your room, ensuring he could give you two the privacy needed in this situation.

To his surprise, you were still awake.

You made a half-hearted attempt at a greeting, but when you noticed it was him, you only scoffed, turning away. It hurt when you gave him the cold shoulder so callously, but Diluc knew you were the one suffering at that moment, not him. He could forgive you for being dismissive of him. Your bedside lamp was still on, and he could see you clutching a pillow to your belly, his own stomach cramping up with remorse, even though, logically, he knew it wasn't his fault. He loved you as you were, the good and bad days, your misery becoming his own much too easily these days.

Setting down the candle on your table, he walked over to you. But not before locking the door from the inside, just so he could give himself a few more seconds before his approach. Every step cost him a lot of discipline, being near you never having been this hard. Even when he looked confident around you, Diluc only ever felt weak. You made him vulnerable. Desperate. Longing for your love and affection was all he was allowed to do, so even just watching your chest rise and fall set him ablaze.

Pushing off his shoes, Diluc focused on the little space you left at the edge of the bed. It was the only space he could see that was reserved for him, as he didn't deserve to share your bed, in your opinion. Yet, when he climbed in, pulling the cover over himself and snaking his arm around your waist, he was enveloped in your scent, your hair tickling his skin as he breathed in deeply. Had he known that heaven was hiding so closely to him, he might not have waited so long to come and see you.

"What are you--" you complained, pushing yourself away from him. But Diluc's hand had already wandered beneath the pillow, feeling the hot water bottle you kept secured there, only to replace it with his palm. He was just as, if not hotter than anything the servants could procure for you; his body temperature naturally elevated from his vision. It wouldn't burn you, but with his hand hugging your lower belly, it was much more effective and fitting than any appliance might be.

And you fell for it, even if just for a split second.

For a moment, you leaned into the comfort of his palm, the pain vanishing in the blink of an eye. Diluc even caught you sighing briefly before you came to your senses, jolting and pushing away from him, only to get stuck inside the blanket and pressed up against him. Diluc couldn't help but grin, having read your actions before they even occurred to you, but of course, this was a serious matter, so he quickly composed himself.

"H-Hey!" you yelled as his hand drifted lower, his face burying into the nape of your neck. He wasn't there to dilly-dally but to be of service. To help you in your time of need. By the time Diluc pressed his lips to your skin and his fingers between your legs, you understood his intentions as well, perhaps misinterpreted, but clear as day.

He was going to fuck the pain away. 

If exercise and stimulation helped others, maybe it would do the same for you. His fingers were met with warm slick, your body flinching when he moved over your clit. Perhaps his calloused hands weren't made for caressing and soft touches but for teasing and stimulating. Judging by how puffy your lower lips were, worked up from days of rubbing your legs together and your panties aggravating them mercilessly, you were in dire need of his help.

"Don't fight it. You're not alone in this," Diluc reassured you as you squirmed in his hold, biting back the salacious sounds of pleasure you were keeping from his ears. You were so mean, keeping every little taste of appreciation from Diluc, knowing how much it meant to him. But he'd endure. Even when your ass ground back against his cock, making it incredibly hard to not focus on his needs as well, he'd put you first in all of this.

When he slipped his pointer and middle finger towards your entrance, a tremor went through your body, a gasp slipping out from between your lips. Diluc never knew how easy it was to get inside another person, greeted warmly and happily by your hole clenching around his fingers.

His kisses became more fervent against your neck, teeth snapping out as he felt like he was losing himself in your scent and warmth. The pushes of his hips against your ass became faster, your cheeks fitting so well around his shaft. You yelled at him to stop, but he barely heard you through the sounds of your sloppy, wet cunt, blood mingling with eager juices to allow him more reach inside you. It was almost as if he could hear them beg for him to go deeper, which just wasn't possible with his knuckles in the way, no matter how much he tried.

Forgotten was the pain as pleasure raked its claws through both of you, and yet, Diluc still heard you whine and sob as he scissored his fingers through your inside. It wasn't enough. He opened his eyes he didn't know he had closed, staring at your expression curiously. All he saw was anger and disgust, your teeth bared and ready to snap, while he could feel your nails digging into his arm. And yet, when he found your eyes, he saw a very different version of events. Lust, desire, longing. You wanted more, and Diluc wouldn't refuse such a request.

Slipping a leg between yours, he pried them apart, spreading you open wide. You gasped, squirming and trying to cut off his access, but Diluc only had to lean back to steal your balance, your body reliant on his while he gained more space on your bed. The hardest part was freeing his cock from the restraint of his pants, the fabric soggy with both your juices as well as his own pre-cum pearling off the tip of his engorged cock.

Nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of your wet cunt greeting his eager cock. No imagining of this situation could have come close to the throbbing heat, your walls convulsing around his fingers in eager expectation. Diluc placed his tip against his fingers, planning to slip them out and take the opening to sink into you, but with how wet the combination of blood and juices was, he felt himself slipping away, kissing your clit instead.

And for the first time, you moaned.

It was the sound of angels and everything nice, and he drew his hips back, trying again to fill you with his cock, missing it just an inch. All good things are three, and when he finally plunged it deep inside your pussy, you weren't the only one yowling in pleasure. No matter what he had imagined his first time with you to be, nothing would ever top the mess he caused between your legs, his cock ready to burst as it pulsated violently inside your equally as ready cunt.

He could feel the waves of pleasure going through you, the shudders in your limbs as he began to slowly press forward, kissing the last few inches of his reach. You remained stiff as a plank, but when he pulled out halfway before sinking in deep again, you were unable to keep your mouth shut, an elongated moan making its way to Diluc's ears, letting him know it was the right thing after all.

Immediately, any hesitation fell off him as he dragged his cock out and sunk it back into you. Fingers retreated to your clit, continuing to slip off and assault the little knob over and over while your walls clenched around his shaft, making you feel every one of his throbs and ridges, the heat between you two almost scorching.

Part of him couldn't believe it worked. That he actually managed to help you with this trick. But he'd have been a liar if he said it wasn't a pleasure for him, too. Diluc could never have dreamed about your proficiency in driving him wild, from your hot, puffy pussy wrapping around him to the improper sounds he had never heard coming from your lips before. The blood kept you so wet and loud down there; it was like you were synching your moans with your pussy, sloppy as they were.

It couldn't have been better, a shudder going through you from head to toe, your feet curling as you gurgled. Diluc wrapped his free arm around your throat, pulling you against him and burying his face in your shoulder as you came hard, juices leaking out, red dripping on the clean sheets with the blanket long discarded.

You were gasping for air as he plunged right back into you, waiting but a mere few seconds of yours before pursuing his own orgasm. Selfishly, but unable to stop. Diluc was already too deep in it, quite literally, your orgasm making your inside tight around him, but it posed no challenge with how drenched you both were.

A strained groan escaped Diluc as he buckled, feeling the first squirts of cum shoot out of him before he drew back, popping out of your cunt and covering it in his cum. His tip got stuck on your clit, as his jizz ejected under the pressure of his orgasm, making you mewl as you were once again stimulated. It would be a mess to clean, but it had been worth it.

You two collapsed, spent and dirty, but Diluc slipped his palm back over your lower stomach, rubbing the collection of juices over your soft skin, leaving a red trail. Kissing the side of your head, he was trying to collect his breath and thoughts, barely able to think straight as the feelings of happiness and his relief kept him in a chokehold.

"Better?" he asked, his voice a blissful rumble as he pulled you firmer against him.

But all he was met with was a cold glare and tears in your eyes. "I-I'm sorry," he stuttered instinctively, immediately feeling bad. What had he done to upset you again? Your teeth were biting into your lip as if you were holding back a tirade of screaming, ready to explode.

His cock twitched between your legs, bloody and so, so wet.

"I'll make it better! I promise! I will definitely make it better," he tried to reassure you, dazed with pleasure as he was, unable to see the actual problem with all of this. Your body convulsed in shock as he pressed his tip upwards again, and you gasped loudly as he sunk his inches inside you. This time, he wouldn't fail to make you feel better. And until then, he'd keep going.

All night long, if he had to.

[tomssexdoll]

hey stinky boob butt

so yk how bill is in paris rn and his hotel room has a bunch of those mirrors in his bathroom 🌚 so i imagined bill watching you get ready for an event/fancy dinner and him being a hornball he comes up behind you and tries to subtly turn you on so you agree to do a quickie and he bends you over the counter so all you see is your reflection and the view of bill pounding you from the back😍😍 “look at my pretty baby gettin’ her pussy stuffed. makin’ such slutty faces..” AAND I CAME. MEOW also i just farted and it smells SO FUCKING HORRIFIC I JUST HOT BOXED MY OWN ROOM WITJ MY TOOTS

i came just from the req

STOP FARTING GOD DAMN

In a rush

PAIRINGS: Bill 2024 x Female reader CONTENT: SMUT SYPNOSIS: Bill gets super horny before an event and begs Y/N to let him quickly fuck her . A/N: MEOW WARNINGS: dom!bill, sub!reader, p in v (doggystyle)

Me and Bill were getting ready to go to a fashion show in Paris, we had been invited by one of the most famous fashion designers in the world.

I was in our hotel bathroom, trying to see which earrings matched my dress perfectly. I felt a presence behind me and looked in the mirror, Bills tall figure towering over me, his hand coming to my stomach and rubbing it softly, kissing my neck with ease.

"Not now baby..we have to leave soon" I sighed, feeling his hand explore my body, moving to sensitive places. Finally, his hand landed on the bottom of my dress, rubbing my thighs teasingly close to my pussy.

"Bill.." I whined, his kisses on my neck getting rougher, pressing his hard cock against my ass. "Cmon..i'll be quick" he whispered, his breath hot against my neck.

I felt a little burning in my heat, clenching my thighs together as he traced his finger up and down my chest, "fine.." I grunted. Then, I felt his hand push at my back, bending me over and slightly exposing my panties to him, the sight making him feral.

"Fuck..need you so bad baby.." he groaned, pushing my dress up and pulling my panties does, his breath hitching at the sight of my wet pussy, glitstening just for him.

I heard his belt unbuckle, pants dropping to the floor and his tip nudging at my entrance, "you ready honey?" he smirked, looking at me through the mirror. I nodded, feeling his hands grip my waist softly, slowly pushing his aching cock in.

"Ah!" I whimpered as he stretched me out, the feeling of his cock in me addicting. He immediately started to pound into me, wasting no time.

"Oh fuck!" I moaned, rolling my eyes back as his tip hit my favourite spot, mouth slightly agape. "Look at my pretty baby getting her pussy stuffed..makin' such slutty faces..fuck.." he groaned, hands coming down to hold my hips roughly, sharp nails digging into the skin.

He continued to slam his cock into me, the pace he was going at was brutal and inhuman, literally lightning speed. I held onto the counter tightly, hoping I didn't slip from his harsh thrusts.

"Fuckkk..your pussy is so addicting baby" he whimpered softly in my ear, my pussy starting to softly clench as I felt a knot forming in my stomach. "Make me cum baby, milk this cock" his hand reached down to my clit, rubbing it roughly.

I felt pleasure waves crash through me with such force, it felt like my soul was being sucked out of me. I screwed my eyes shut, head lolling back as I felt my orgasm approach.

With one final thrust Bill burried his cock deep in me, squirting his cum all over my walls and painting my insides white. "Quick baby..cum for me ok?" Bill commanded softly, panting as he continued to thrust into me, the rubbing on my clit getting faster.

I bit my lip so hard it bled as I came all over his cock, legs twitching and small moans leaving my lips as my high came down. Bill cleaned me up and helped me put my clothes back on. Surprisingly my makeup wasn't affected, I smiled and grabbed Bills hand, "told you the 50 dollar setting spray was worth it" he chuckled "whatever, let's go"

tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @tomkaulitzloverr @ballhair @charliesgoodboy @estxkios @ge-billsgf @bkaulitzlover @cyberleathalz

[callsignfangs]

JSSJJSJA I LOVE UR WRITING 😭😭 I'M MUNCHING SO HARD ON IT

p.s im the anon who asked for that farah x g/n reader after a hard mission if that even matters but

-besides that, I have another request🤭🤭 if u have time ofc

g/n reader whos afraid of thunderstorms (from PTSD maybe) and there just so happens to be a thunderstorm tonight oh no but farah is there with them🤩

SORRY FOR THIS REALLY LONG REQUEST BUT UM HAVE A GOOD DAY OR NIGHT RAHH GO WILD

GIGGLINGNGN IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED ITT 😚😚

(I’d call you the Farah anon but atp my, like, whole page is Farah. Not that I’m complaining 😇)

And absolutely I will absolutely devour any reqs I get, esp Farah ones, I just love them smmsmm 😇

(AND DONT APOLOGISE FOR THE LENGTH LUVVIEE 💟💟 I LOVE GETTING REQS 🫂)

Also also sorry for the wait ive been focusing a little on art and personal life stuff that’s absolutely battering me rn 🧍‍♂️

Farah Karim x GN!Traumatised! Reader 😚

To say nights were hard was a bit of an understatement for you. Sleep didn’t come easy - not when it was majorly plagued with painful projections and stalking memories, haunting you throughout the night when they couldn’t tear at you through the day.

So, you being up at god-knows-when at night really wasn’t too alarming. You didn’t even mind it that much anymore, it was a bit like a routine. The exhaustion was annoying, and the daily naps were a pain, but it was easier than attempting to face sleep.

Usually. Usually, your waking mind was clearer and safer than your sleeping one. Not tonight.

Tonight? Tonight, the thunder rolling through the air practically sent shockwaves through your room, sending your mind reeling into that fogged, not-quite-here, am-i-there haze, making your chest ache and stomach knot painfully. You wished your mind would surrender you to sleep, even if it was just trading one hell for another.

It wasn’t long before you ended up at Farah’s door like a little lost puppy. It seemed pointless - your hand was heavy with the fear of being a burden and you couldn’t even remember how you’d gotten there. The throbbing weight in your chest seemed to ebb into the air, the thickness slipping from your lungs before you could really get a full breath in.

Farah opening the door almost into your face was actually blessed coincidence, the empty glass in her hand somehow assured your oblivious little mind of just how much of a problem you were to her.

She didn’t even need to see the tears verging on spilling over your cheeks to know.

“Oh, hon, come on, lovely. I can’t have you out here by yourself, can I?”

You only just brought yourself to nod, lower lip wobbling involuntarily. Hands slipped across your back before you could burst into tears, softly guiding your listless form into her room, what little awareness you had left trailing behind. The gentle click of the door shutting only just stood out from the blood rushing through your ears, trying to shield from the growling of the thunder outside.

“Are you.. Are you warm enough, قلبي?” Her words were so motherly it hurt.

“How about I get you something warm to drink, alright? I’ll make your favourite, promise. Then we can snuggle up here and have a movie marathon, or something. How does that sound, love?”

A cosy, toasty drink and snuggles with your favourite girl? It did sound nice.

Farah’s smile widened. You must’ve nodded, or something. You didn’t quite know.

“There. I’m glad you like that idea. Just hold up one second, right?”

And then she plodded off again. Her absence made you hurt primally, fear creeping across your chest and up your throat, latching onto you with an iron grip. No, no, she couldn’t leave, it wasn’t safe, how did you let her go all alone what if-

“Hey, حبيبي, hey, it’s okay. Come here, shh.”

She was back. It felt like some kind of emotional whiplash, your feelings being pulled apart and moulded back together again, moving too quickly for you to really react.

Gentle, familiar hands guided you to sit back down - when had you stood up? - and cradled your cheek in their careful hold. Something slipped up over your ears, and the world went quiet again. Almost disturbingly so, the lack of input, of reassurance to your senses, it was scary.

It was like Farah read your mind as she leaned back in to whisper right next to your ear, just loud enough for you to hear, “It’s alright, sweetheart. Come on, you’re alright. We’re safe right now, we just have to let this storm pass. Literally, for once.”

The relaxed humour brought a weak smile to your face. It didn’t quite reach your eyes, but that was alright. You needed time and reassurance, only one of those had you received a decent amount of.

Her bed creaked as she joined next to you, worn, homely springs groaning with effort. Your hands were enveloped in her touch once again, substantial warmth coating the back of your hand, branching out over your palm and peeking up your wrist.

Farah didn’t hesitate to ease you down against the headboard, tucking a hand down against the small of your back as she fumbled for something she’d placed on the bedside table.

“Do you want that drink, love? I made your favourite. Same way as usual, don’t worry.” The mug was held by your hand, supporting it as you took it in your shaking ones. Her lips puckered softly as she puffed over the hot liquid, a little plume of steam flowing up to your face, the warm flash dragging your mind back somewhat. You idly noticed the seeds of a headache taking root against your temple.

“Careful, غالي, it’s hot.” It took a few moments to drag your eyes up and take her in, but you got there in the end. “Oh, hello, sweetheart. Popped back in, have we?” The light bags tugging at her under eye were engulfed by the soft plush of her cheeks as she smiled. To say she looked relieved was a bit of an understatement. One of her hands slipped from the mug, ensuring it was stable before coming up to give your cheek a little squeeze, thumbing gently at your cheekbone.

At your slow nod, her smile widened even further, gratitude pouring into her gaze. The mug was, once again, eased from your grasp at your seeming disinterest. It was probably going cold, but she didn’t particularly care.

“How do you feel about taking a nap, lovely? Just you and me. We can put on a movie too, like a little cosy movie night - does that sound nice?”

“Yeah..” Your words were almost too shaky to be intelligible, but seeing Farah’s warm glow at the attempt made it worth it.

Hands roamed gently under your thighs, easing you down into her shockingly comfy covers - ‘commander’s privileges’ - and proceeding to tuck you in, fussing over you all the while. It was a win/win, really, she got to look after and fuss over you, and you got a little bit of well-deserved spoiling.

After you were sufficiently smothered, Farah pulled herself up off the bed, calling out a soft ‘one sec’ before jogging out of the room. It was quiet. That wasn’t that bad anymore, though. She’d be back, soon.

Your mind barely wandered in the time it took for her to swipe the laptop off of the coffee table and speed back. She knew better than to leave you alone with your thoughts right now, though your semi-calmness when she got back was reassuring.

“Here we are..” Farah murmured idly, clambering up next to you, placing the laptop on the bedside table by your head. You were softly eased onto your side and pulled to a firm, pillowy chest. One arm was laid out under your shoulder, simultaneously supporting you and reaching out to the laptop, opening up her downloads and mindlessly scrolling through her library of movies. Her other arm was laid over your side, kneading at your tummy before moving slowly up to your chest.

The next few minutes were spent with Farah idly chatting into your ear, bouncing movie ideas off of you as she internally preened at each and every response you gave. Together, you decided on a movie, and cuddled into each other’s safe warmth as the opening credits rolled.

By the halfway mark, you were fast asleep. By the end, Farah was too.

—

Sorry for the kinda rushed ending, I wanted to maybe take this a little further sometime, but it’s been ages and I wanted to give yous a little sumet to munch on /j

Pinky promise I’ll try to drag myself out of my sorta-hiatus 😚🫂

(Tags: @theartisticautisticc )

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Today’s @wolfstarmicrofic prompt is aflame and… I’m so fucking sorry y’all

It’s part of a oneshot I’m writing rn but it fit so here you go - what could have happened if Sirius had made it to Godric’s Hollow in time?

(867 words.)

Remus shoved his way back into the flat, aching all over. The transformations were getting harder and harder, and not having Sirius there…

No, he wasn’t going to think about that. They could talk once he had recovered a little.

If he actually showed up, that was, since the flat was quite clearly empty. Remus frowned, confused, turning and realising that someone had sent an owl. Sluggishly, he freed the note from the owl’s leg, unfurling it and staring at it. It took a moment for lucidity to hit, for his eyes to focus, but the moment he took in the note, his blood froze in his veins.

‘Emergency, come to Order house.’

He apparated without thinking, despite the fact that it took a lot out of him. He stumbled a little as he got to the doorstep, shoving straight through the door. James, Lily and Harry were there, and Remus’ first thought was relief. They were there. It had been too fucking long.

“Hi! Oh my god, you- you’re here!” He went and wrapped his arms around them both, the muscles in his shoulders relaxing just a little at the sight of them, before pulling away quickly. “What’s- what’s going on? I thought you were in hiding!”

“That’s what’s going on.” Remus focused a little more, realising that James looked absolutely distraught, hardly in one piece.

“What happened?” He asked suddenly, voice wavering slightly.

“…Peter. He was the traitor. Came to our house to kill us. Led Voldemort there.” Lily explained quietly, Remus’ heart dropping into his stomach, sinking. Peter.

“Peter?” Lily nodded. “I’m- you’re safe. Thank fuck. How did you get out in time?”

“Remus, it- it was Sirius.” Lily said in a whisper. “He showed up to warn us, and he was there when they arrived.” Remus frowned, looking between them.

“Then- then where is he?”

“I’m so sorry, Remus.” James whispered, as Lily’s eyes welled up with tears, gripping Harry just a little closer to her. He looked at Remus, and it was like he was willing Remus to understand. He did, and everything stopped.

“No.” The word came out of his mouth before he could stop himself, head shaking a little. “No, he’s not- he can’t be- how can you be sure?”

“We found him when we arrived, Remus. He’s gone.” Moody’s voice sounded, steady and truthful enough for Remus’ world to shatter.

“He’s- you mean he’s- fuck, no, Sirius, he- he’s not-“ his eyes snapped to James and Lily. “You said he was there when you were- when Peter came to-“ he couldn’t think, he needed to keep talking. James nodded, eyes avoiding Remus’. “Then why- you let him fight them alone? You- fuck, you let him- you- you let- he just- why the fuck would you- this is your fault!”

“Remus, don’t.” Lily warned, taking a deep shaking breath. “He wouldn’t let us-“

“He stayed, and you left. You left, you- you left, you- I- fuck you!” He stepped closer, James catching him and pulling him into a hug.

“I know.” James said, voice cracking as Remus struggled to escape his grip.

“Fuck you, no, get off me, you- no, James, stop, you- I don’t- he’s gone.” He finished, slumping into James’ hug.

Everything was foggy, shock coursing through him. James tightened his grip, as Remus tried to force himself not to break down. Unsuccessfully. The tears started to pour, James and Remus both falling to the floor as James held a sobbing Remus. It was like someone had drawn all of the oxygen out of the room, taken a lighter and lit his heart aflame, standing back and watching Remus burn from the inside out.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“I know, Moony. I know.” James murmured, voice rough, crying right with him. “I tried to stop him, I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t want him to, he locked us out.” The words came out in a rush. “I didn’t want to take him away from you, I didn’t want him to go, I’m so sorry.”

Remus couldn’t take it in, couldn’t respond, couldn’t speak, not when he was sobbing so harshly, so heavily, ripping through him so gutturally that he couldn’t do anything but cry. He wanted to scream, break things, go and drag Sirius back, kiss him one more time.

“He said to tell you that he was sorry, and he loves you.” James said, and that was Remus final straw.

Some semblance of a scream, pure anguish, escaped him, James’ grip tightening even more. It was like he couldn’t physically handle the sheer amount of pain in his body, like he was supposed to be dead too, and something was keeping him awake as a cruel punishment. He wanted to disappear, to die in Sirius’ place, because the world dimmed to a complete black and white when he was gone.

Nothing would ever be okay without him.

After what felt like an eternity, Remus had exhausted all of the tears in his body. He was aching from the transformations, and everything in him had just been torn far more than it had before, his heart bleeding Sirius’ name; Sirius, Sirius, Sirius.

How was he supposed to live without him?

[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.

[izumi-07]

PUPPET - 2

Yandere!Stepbro Sakusa x Yandere!Brothers Best-friend Atsumu x brown coded Y/n

TW! : manipulation, power dynamics, obsession, dark themes, emotional abuse, isolation, degradation, intimidation, dubcon/noncon, delusion, mild edging

Maths and hunger are never good combinations the formulas were practically floating off the pages, it’s not like it seems of course I didn’t have that much pride in me to not take food when it’s been made especially if it’s prepared by Miya Osamu he was on his way to probably raking in a lot of money for his skills he would definitely own a whole chain of restaurants someday who would skip out on the chance to eat his cooking for free? Me that’s who it was just survival maybe even a sore attempt at salvaging my dignity I wouldn’t be able to stomach any of the food no matter how delicious it was if I was forced to eat in front of Kiyoomi and his friends.

When we were younger and I’d been more naïve desperate as ever to just fit in and be friends with him, my Japanese was raw and unrefined I could barely speak it let alone understand the tongue of native speakers but it was kind of obvious what they were saying when I pulled out my bento in front of them in school and they would shove Kiyoomi around tease him and make faces at me while I ate and laughed like an idiot with them as they mocked me and I sat there the object of their amusement as they intimidated me into a corner in their gruff voices with sharp toned words I didn’t understand.

Everyone had insecurities but Kiyoomi liked to solidify my own in a way that left lasting wounds I nursed till they would stop stinging the cruelty and precision with Kiyoomi begins when he finds your deep dark secrets once it’s found he uses every chance he has to exploit it that sting I mentioned? It never goes away it’s always reminding me of its existence when he berates me when he makes my heart ache with his whiplash behavior when it shouldn’t that I should know better to accept the scraps of his mercy.

I had been close to crying on several occasions throughout our childhoods, it’s not dramatic to say I’m traumatized by some of his actions the nightmarish way he stares down at me till I can’t bare the weight of its intensity causing me to develop a reflexive flinch and that prickling need to turn tail and run till he couldn’t find me anymore has been ingrained in my body. My phone glows face down beside its place on my desk, I shouldn’t get distracted but with the noise outside, the headache of hunger looming over me and my mind fogging up, I abandon my studies to the mechanical addiction that always had a certain way of making me forget how much I hated my life and like a godsend he’s online and trying to comfort me in his own ways.

Mitsu😴 : leave the math it’s bad for the brain

Y/n : I’m already terrible at it you’re not helping

Mitsu😴: Can’t disagree there you suck with numbers 🐶

Y/n : Oh yeah what was your English score last term genius?

Mitsu😴: ......low blow princess low blow

Y/n : How did you even know I’m doing my math rn?

Mitsu😴: Look out your window and maybe you’ll find out I’m running out of stones here

No way.....god no, I almost trip over my own feet scrambling towards my window praying the idiot isn’t standing below in perfect sight of the psycho and his pack of hounds, after getting over the relief of seeing an empty narrow space of green grass and vegetable patches were I expected to see his sleepy red head about to throw another stone at my window, my phone beeps and I almost want to phone him and yell his ears off for scaring me.

Mitsu😴: Got ya, didn’t I? Bet I did lol you totally ate your face, didn’t you?

Y/n : Dude seriously don’t fuck with me like that I thought you would end up dead or something

Mitsu😴 : Lol what? Besides the fact I wouldn’t even get out of my bed in normal human hours why tf would I die if I was even standing below your window Romeo style?

Y/n : ......I didn’t want to say anything but he’s back for semester break

He types and deletes, types again and then five minutes pass with no change till his icon pops up urging me to accept the call his voice is gruff, and he sounds like he just woke up.

"I’m on my way, pack your bag with some overnight clothes and any school shit you’ll need, my dad’s still on call tonight cause he’s working a case, so he’ll answer if I need some help-"

He’s serious I can tell from the shuffling I hear on the other end, it’s endearing enough to make my heart full again and that bitter lonely feeling that eats away at my insides melts just a tiny bit even when everyone was against me I still had someone to hold onto but I knew if I even cared a sliver about this boy if I truly valued him and wanted him to still be in my life I would keep him out of Kiyoomi’s sight.

"No...just wait, listen to me, okay? I’m fine he’s leaving me alone for the most part and I’m not even hurt I swear I can even snap a picture if it’ll keep you at home but if you trust me, you won’t come here....please don’t come here Mitsu".

"Y/n I’m coming there because I trust you and because I love you, you’re practically the sister I never got my mum says so all the dam time, besides what kind of person would I be if I just left you there? With him! You know he’s off his rocker him and all his shitty friends too! God....I knew something was up when you refused to even let me walk you home today".

I want to cry he’s being so stubborn he’s gonna get hurt and it’ll be on me, I start pacing unaware that there’s heavy footsteps leading up to my room that someone is walking around the top floor of this house, nearing me I’m oblivious to everything my worry for the only person who ever gave a dam overtaking my perception that’s usually always on guard.

"Mitsu please just don’t....you could get hurt....he could make it seem like you were trespassing you know he would! So please promise me you aren’t going to come here......please just wait until ten at least before ignoring me completely"

The engine sound in the background is enough to make me furious the long silence stretches as I fall onto my bed, my door is opened I didn’t hear the crack

"Hey...you still there?"

"Yeah......"

"I’m not gonna argue with you, okay? You don’t have to leave I’ll just......fuck I don’t know Y/n wait outside for an hour just to be safe? I just can’t ignore the fact he’s there okay it’s gonna eat me alive till Monday"

I’m crying ugly tears my sobs are quiet almost non-existent I won’t let my noise out not while he’s under the same roof, but Mitsu hears it he always knows

"Princess......you, okay? I’m gonna be there in fifteen don’t come out till you see me, okay? Promise me"

"Promise....I promise...please don’t let him see you"

"I won’t....it’ll be fine"

"I love you too bye"

I toss the phone beside me and wipe my cheeks hurriedly like someone would see at any moment, I wasn’t wrong someone would see it and the door shutting behind me like thunder makes my blood run cold beneath my skin. "Love huh? Such a big word at such a young age imouto", he stalks towards me flipping at little things on my desk his feet bare curly black hair curved over one part of his forehead his signature beauty spots always catch my eye every time I’m brave enough to meet his dark eyes.

“Who was on the phone?", "Mom", "Wrong answer you get one more try and then I’m gonna unlock it myself even if I have to break a finger to do it". No answer is the second option, it’s more of an option for me then it is for Kiyoomi I back myself against the windows ledge as he splays himself out on the spot of my bed, I had been sitting on his long toned arm stretches out to snatch my phone it’s locked obviously and now he’s watching me hide my hands stupidly behind my back like that was going to do anything. He sighs and curses under his breath, exasperated with me like I’m a child he can’t seem to discipline correctly.

"Come here and unlock this phone Y/n", he’s never used my name unless he’s seriously pissed my mother never even used it, too foreign too strange to sound out and here the bastard was using it like a punishment fuck him, “I don’t want to hurt you I really don’t want to do that especially because I know your gonna need your hand for the exams but if you want to take fuckin supps during vacation or repeat like the dumb fuckin whore you are its gonna make no difference to me Y/n my life’s set, how about yours?", it’s tempting his threats all those cruel ugly words to simply just give in and go to him unlock my phone get it over with but I choose to be an idiot and stand my ground against this monstrous person I’ve loathed for the longest time.

He didn’t break my fingers much to my own disbelief he did however tackle me into the wall which probably bruised my left arm by how hard he threw me against it and then forced my finger to unlock the device he now had access to I didn’t get to escape after he had me in his arms holding me tight like a vice against his chest as he scrolled through my phone he could probably feel my body shiver as he leaned us against the wall forcing me to stop moving. "So, this is why your grades are as average as they are? This little pest is keeping you all occupied? Is this what started it Y/n? He’s responsible for your behavior?", his voice is too calm and then I nearly scream when he presses his lips against the side of my cheek, I feel disgusted, can even feel the sick psychos smile against my flesh, “He’s coming here to do what exactly? Save you? From what Y/n? Am I a bad brother Y/n? Am I hurting you Y/n?", he laughs when I fail at shoving him off me.

"I was gonna treat you so nice today, take you out to get something to eat because I know you’re a big cry-baby who can’t take a few jokes, was gonna try and show you I can be good too but now.....now I’m not gonna feel bad one bit when I beat that little fucker and then convince mom and dad to keep you locked up here during term break", it’s stupid of me to assume he wouldn’t have thought about the possibility with the things he’s been doing spending that much time with him would definitely lead to him doing what my mind has already considered, Kiyoomi was by no means a saint but a small part of me wished to continue believing he’d never do something so cruel so heartless and obscene. "Kiyoomi, I give in, okay? I’ll call him right now and tell him to not come back here? I promise-", "Your word means little to me imoutou right now it’s close to nothing, but I like this side of you......hmmmm maybe......maybe I’ll be more open to hearing what you have to say if you do something for me".

He had let me go and was now leaning against the other side of the window looking down into the other yard and the street beyond that waiting to see anything that resembled or signaled to Mitsu arriving. "He a boyfriend?", honesty was what the jackass wanted which meant he wanted to interrogate me without me smartassing my way around the questions, “No he’s the only friend I have", "You couldn’t make any friends with girls? Or are you mentally incapable of acting like one to get them to like you?", "That tends to happen when your apart of the few groups of foreigners at school, stereotypes are still a thing I didn’t think you’d overlook the possibility".

He smirks his eyes never leave mine, “That’s fair I guess, do you know I had refused to go oversees when our parents got the acceptance letter for me in the mail?", yes I did know that they had made a big fiasco over it too till the sweet talking bastard convinced them that staying home was better he wanted to be focused he said he didn’t need to be so far away he said wouldn’t want to miss them too much he said what a load of crap,"I did that for you I chose to stay for you and to think I turned it all away for you to what? Give yourself a way to some little high school runt who probably can’t even fuck you right?".

I back away from him and he rolls his eyes before sighing frustrated and then my phone is flying across the room and smashing against the wall, “Come over here Y/n", when I resist he’s backing me up towards my desk, “I’m not going to hurt you I just want us to sit down and talk, that’s all", I keep moving back towards my desk till it hits my back and he sighs standing right in front of me till our feet touch, his hand moves forward and I flinch till he brings me into his hold hushing me like I’m some child in some ways I suppose that was how he saw me a spoiled child he had the power to discipline. "I just want to talk, so can you please come sit down with me I hate making you do things especially when you look so sad after despite it being for your own good, I don’t take pleasure in it Y/n despite what you might believe but you don’t leave me much choice", I need to play along just enough till I could distract him and get him off me.

It takes everything in me not to physically recoil when I look him dead in the eye hoping he doesn’t see the lies, I reach up hesitantly he moves away cautious as he should be but blushes like the sick fuck he is when I cup his face smoothing my thumbs over his cheeks soft, slow docile like he so wants me to be, “You just scared me Kiyoomi, I get scared when your angry with me", I can’t believe my luck when he sighs into my hand actually turns to kiss my palm, “I know....fuck I know sweetheart I’m working on it, I was doing better until I saw.....saw you crying to that little-", I could physically feel his pulse throb and I hastily wrap his hands around my waist what the hell was I doing. "It’s in the past though, right? You said you’ll take care of me from now on so I won’t need to talk to boys like that, you said it’s not good for me you don’t say things for no reason", he hums completely euphoric he grinds his jaw and locks our fronts together but I feel my heart drop when he lifts me away from the desk entirely were the thick heavy textbooks had laid just a few inches within reach, “You get it now right? God I’m so happy you do; I know you’re a smart girl baby I know how hard you work but mum and dad don’t see it do they? I see it though I’ve read all your poems and seen all the awards you hide away from your writing competitions; I know you were on the girls’ volleyball team too".

I don’t know what to say, I can’t even think straight with were his hands are going planted around my hips his thumbs slipping beneath my shirt to rub circles on my bare skin, “You did so well I watched one of your games, came home early from college a year ago to pick you up from school and then learnt about you going into volleyball I was so excited I drove as fast as I could to the school hosting just in time to see you win, I knew it then Y/n I just knew I needed to work hard for us to work". The next few seconds are numbing, their cold and yet my body is lit on fire when he presses his lips to mine his eyes shut his pressure increasing till I realize he wants me to open my mouth, my tears fall, and I pray I can forgive myself for kissing him back like it’s everything I want.

He groans like he’s won and slips his hands under my skirt to move me closer till he’s cupping my ass,"Hold on to me", he whispers and I have no choice but to comply as he carries me away from the desk and to my bed laying me down pressing kisses to the junctures of my neck his hands are moving down but I bring them back up trying to keep him distracted with what I’m willing to lose, “Niisan we shouldn’t-", I gasp when I feel something heavy against my thigh rubbing against me it’s throbbing, “Hurts so much but it’ll go down eventually I know your probably messy under your skirt too baby lemme see okay? I’ll clean you up", I don’t give him the opportunity and just kiss him more harshly till I’ve forced him onto his back and I’m sitting on top of his monstrosity.

"Y-Y/n, sweetheart you don’t-", I just need to make him cum I know how it works at least how it’s supposed to work I can do this and then he’ll leave that probably all it is he’s horny and he’s fucked to want his own step sister so I might as well commit all the way, “Niisan I’m hurting let me help please", he covers his mouth cheeks are pink all the way to the tips of his ears he’s about to say no I lift my skirt up tilt my head to the side and grind against him making sure he’s got a good view of my panties, “Please Niisan", he groans and nods I hook my fingers into his sweats and drag them down till I see the outline of his dick pressing against his boxer briefs, “Baby take your skirt off wanna see your pretty panties", I concede and pull them off before I can even second guess myself.

"Fuck", we both freeze looking at the figure standing in the doorway.

[outcastpack]

1. 5. 9. 14. 19. 21. 24. 26 :)

OK let's do this 🫂

1. "I wanna drown in an Ocean of you" this one's pretty self explanatory and also one of my fav songs rn

5. Fic idea I've had but will never write.

I'm not sure really I think the fic idea I had that was for the name of my profile. Theo and his outcast pack because the base idea kept changing and ended up with completely different ideas.

9. Do you write everyday. And share a sentence if you have.

I do. I try to do atleast 500 to 1k if im in work next day at 5am but my 2/3 days off i try to hammer out as much as I can as a goal coz really wanna get the fic done and get it out for everyone to see. Plus people's encouragement to parts have helped push me to try.

Here a snippet sentance from today.

A pair of familiar arms wrap around his back pulling Liam away from his jealous thoughts. “Hi pretty boy.” He feels Theo’s lips mumbling against his ear, his breath tickling Liam’s ear.

14. Which of your fics would you like to see get a visual adapdation like into a comic or film.

Hmmm this is a hard one I'd have to say either Pokewolf AU, Mafia/Assassin Theo with Thief Liam or Thiam as Jasher.

19. Small teaser from a WIP.

Well since I'm only actively working on one fic once again here's Thiam as jasher. And plz don't kill me this is kinda a pivotal part of the boys plot (Some of you already know)

Liam wakes up. His head pounding and the sickly feeling in his stomach. “What the fuck did I drink?” He wonders in his head. The light peaking through the curtain blinds makes his head ache and the pain in his head increases. Movement to his left makes the boy freeze as he only then realises the line of heat at his side, seeing the outline of a figure. Slowly becoming more aware of his surroundings makes him realise something else.

He’s naked. The person next to him is also naked.

Moving closer he realised just who the person is. It’s Olivia, his ex, his best friends twin sister. The pain in his head intensifies and he feels the bile forming in his throat making him run for the bathroom, uncaring if he wakes the girl in the process. Reaching the bathroom he immediately throws up, emptying his stomach. After he has finished and is sure nothing else is going to come up it hits him all at once in flashes. Him and Liv getting drunk together. Her spilling the vodka over him and slurring causing him to lose his shirt. Olivia whispering in his ear to have some fun. Him slamming the girl against the wall and dragging her to the bedroom. Clothes being ripped off. The moans in his ear.

He only then realises the nail marks on his back and line of hickeys on his neck. He feels ill, how could he do such a thing. He had wanted to get home and talk to Theo instead he apparently got drunk and had sex with his ex. Thinking about Theo triggers another memory of the night. Darting for his phone which had been tossed on the floor with his jeans. Clicking the screen on and praying, hoping he didn’t do what he thinks he did. Right there is a voice mail to Theo from him.

Oh god what the hell did he say, what has he done.

A moan of pain from the bed pulls his attention reminding him of his next problem. What the hell should he say to Olivia? What the hell is Mason going to say?

(DISCLAIMER TOO. THEO AND LIAM ARE NOT OFFICIALLY TOGETHER HERE YET)

24. Share a moodboard for a WIP

This ones a idea I had for later parts of S4s plot and the end of the base S4 era Thiam as Jasher plot. Theo will be fixing up Jenna's old 1970s Ford Mustang at his dad garage as a surprise for Liam after he finds the vehicle just sat there covered up and Jenna tells him about the car.

26. A piece of writing/Fic you would never want your family to see.

Yes. Probably the spicey/smuttyish parts of any of my fics.

TY for the questions 🫂💙

[gloomybunnyboy]

hey i saw your vent i wanted to say a few things

sometimes being a bunch of personalities smashed together seems like the way to get people to like you, but honestly it's just the way to burn yourself out. i have bpd and the first 18 years of my life were hell. beaten and starved and left and hospitalized over and over. i never believed anyone could like me and i sabotaged any friendship i'd make.

it wasn't until about a year ago that i really started to heal. i processed my trauma and recontextualized a lot of things. it takes so much work, but you will be so proud of yourself the day you find yourself handling something better than you used to, or hearing something that used to make your chest ache and your stomach turn and now it just makes you think. i want you to know that there are people out there for you. and i don't know your friend, maybe they were a good friend maybe they were a bad friend. but you're not too much. sometimes being pushed to a breaking point (like forcing yourself to be someone else constantly) is too much. sometimes it leads to arguments or, rather not having important conversations because you or the other person fears what will be said.

i wish someone had told me that just because you have a personality disorder that doesn't mean you can't get better at the things that make your life so fucking exhausting. it's exhausting to have mood swings it's exhausting to feel sick at the thought of someone being upset with you it's exhausting to live like this. but there are ways to make it better. i encourage you to look into dbt skills. if you do, you'll find it's wayyyy easier to actually use the skills if you practice them in times when you don't need them, so you actually have the ability to use them in times of great distress. i urge to you to follow some bpd recovery accounts somewhere, (the good ones at least) will not shame anyone, they will often still have vent posts and accurately talk about what it feels like to have bpd symptoms. that's all i got, i hope you're doing ok. friends saying mean stuff feels the worst. it's like so baffling too because it's almost always stuff that you would just keep to yourself so when they say something to their friend??? it's like damn you're actually trying to hurt me rn i would never say that to your face i'd just think it

yeh anyways sorry if this was not my place and i upsetted you by sending this. take a "just in case apology snail" 🐌

Genuinely you writing all this means like so much oh my god?? Tysm. I’ve read through about this twice now. I’ll take a lot of this advice into consideration.

It is really tiring though especially mixed with the fact im also masking it just makes for a mess that I know will cause me to break down. I’ve actually never heard of DBT before surprisingly? Which is genuinely surprising becuase it seems helpful in my case.

it’s really nice that you actually took the time to write all of this. It’s made me feel better. I hope you and I continue to heal. I’m sorry if this is a lame reply anon I’m not for writing all this stuff out but I really do appreciate the advice. <3

[praseodykemium]

2:48 am 6 April 2024

tonight I ate a huge block of chocolate and I felt like killing myself. I'm not suicidal. My right thigh really aches where I sometimes cut it months ago. And now while writing, I feel like shitting myself because my stomach does this surrendering thing when I feel any strong emotions. I'm not even sure what emotion it is this time.

Sometimes I cry out of nowhere. The tears just come I am not in control of them. They are usually preceded by some screeching from me. I don't know why I do that either. I hurt my close ones doing that and I don't like it.

I don't have any friends I can talk to. Well I was talking to a friend in the evening (11pm) and the discussion kinda upset me (made me feel like a worthless creature who should cease from existence), and so I watched 6 episodes of Fleabag and related and laughed and felt a lot of things but mainly- "what am I doing with my life? Have I no ambition? I should be studying for an exam next year and not enjoying something" <— that (the last two sentences) was actually from the discussion with the friend.

She said we are all born equally smart. Some just work harder than others. And she compared me and meghna (who is ofcourse better than me despite me besting her in most of our school exams in 12th. She was a topper in 11th and I was not. I'm glad in a way that everyone remembers that. I really hated expectations. But yeah that kinda stung. It wasn't the main hit, far from it). She said that her parents and loads of other doctors work REAAALLY HARD and ARE PERRRRFECTLY HEALTHY (when I told her that over pressuring yourself with work is gonna bring a cerebral stroke and you'll die early and not get to enjoy any of your money and respect and freedom.)

SO THEN IN MY HEAD, MY STUPID MIND TWISTED THST SENTENCE AND MADE IT INTO "OH I CALLED YOUR BLUFF. YOURE JUST OVERREACTING. CEREBRAL STROKES ARE A MYTH BECAUSE OHHHHHH LOOK ST ME BOASTING MY SUPER FIT AND HEALTHY AND ALIVE PARENTS WHO WORK ALL DAY!!!!!" (I hope that everyone she thought of in that list of perfectly healthy and alive workaholics STAY HEALTHY AND WELL AND ALIVE. MAY SHE NEVER FIND OUT THAT BITTER BITTER BLOW THAT CHANGES YOUR PERCEPTION OF THE WORLD. MAY SHE NEVER LOSE HER PARENTS YOUNG. GOD BLESS EVERYONE SHE THOUGHT OF AND MORE 🛐)

BUT FUCK YOU VERSHA FOR SAYING THAT because unknowingly you touched a nerve I didn't even know I still had alive. FUCK ME. God I hate everything. I really relate to fleabag rn even though I have no qualifications other than my dad dying to feel relatable to her saying "I feel like crying. All the time."

Its been 3 years and I still haven't gotten over my drunk brother (cousin) molesting me at 15. Because we were really close at a point in time (YEARS OF FRIENDSHIP). AND I TRUSTED HIM MORE THAN ANYONE. I AM STILL NOT OVER IT.

i feel I was hypersexual from as long as I can remember. I had this repeating dream-vision-imagination thing that I am in a hospital lying with my lower body uncovered naked and the doctor calling in my super older than me ( when I was 15 he was 23 or something and the younger one was probably 21) cousin brothers— to come and stare at my genitals. I have had this dream thingy since as long as I can remember. It was often repeating in my head. I do not know why. I was assaulted YEARS later by the both of them on multiple separate occasions but that foreshadowing was thoroughly confusing and unasked for and really fucked up my childhood.

I have been masturbating since as long as I can remember as well. I don't know what's wrong with me. But I'm terrified of men. And I am terrified of being penetrated. I would rather die a virgin honestly. But I'm also really fucking horny all the time. But I really really really do not want anybody to touch my naked body ever.

whenever somebody invades (accidentally or otherwise) my personal space, I have this passive surrendering feeling wash over me like a drug. Like I know that I hate it, I'm aware of me hating someone doing that but it's just that twisted horny part of me or something else maybe i don't know that forces me to remain stationary like a soldier called to attention. I let the intrusive hand finger thigh do whatever the fuck it wants to do and I stay completely still. It's not supposed to be this way. I'm a strong (not really), adult (19 in June this year), aware (vividly aware of articles and awareness videos, Wikipedia and RAIIN articles about every sexual assault terminology, their after effects, mental disorders, percentages, everything) woman with a brown belt in karate. I should do better than this. But my STUPID FUCKING TWISTED MINDED BODY REFUSES TO SEE REASON AND FOLLOW THROUGH WITH MOVING AWAY. SO YEAH FUCK ME I GUESS IM NOT GONNA GIVD CONSENT BUT I CAN JUST STAND HERE AND BE A REALLY GOOD WANKING MATERIAL FOR YOU.

I have to sleep it's 3:27 am now. And I really hate Martin (Claire's i.e. fleabag's sister's husband) from Fleabag.

I think fleabag's therapist scene brought this rant on. And my right thigh really fucking hurts.

[seiwas]

op i am going to put my thoughts here bc they for sure won’t fit the tags 😭💓

but this fic!! oh my god!! it’s just 🥺🥹 literally those emojis combined 🥺 so soft and so tender and so much love, i’ve said ur writing reminds me of a shoujo anime, op but this one—it’s just, a movie scene, but very specific to those in indie movies that ache and feel almost stolen if anything 🥺 and i just 🥺 ultimate comfort op my heart was tingling 😭

ur writing is so beautiful op!! like i listed down so many lines i really really loved!! (which i’ll share rn) sorry in advance for the rambling!!

a vacuum of stars — taunting in its perpetuity. <- this one omfg when u hit me with this op i was literally like 😦 that’s such a beautiful way to describe things in so few words

and this one too: your fingers in his hair, his footprints in your life. idk what u call it but i’m such a sucker for related words used in a sentence!! like the fingers and the footprints just uGh

and the way you explored satoru’s headspace through this all 🥺 i adore that !! my personal writing style leans towards thoughts/feelings so reading this kind of felt very… homey? something familiar but also entirely different 🥺 and your exploration of his thoughts on all this—love and affection, being cared for and being deserving of it all 🥺 made my heart clench!!!

how he comes home!! op!! the value u place on the home!!: satoru likes to think of your front door as a threshold between realms, a gap between within and without. & how!! he could get used to coming home to reader and i just 🥺

and you dropped so many lil bits n moments of satoru’s realisations too 🥺 and i just ! my heart just !!! every single time i read them i went: oh

food tastes better, satoru has come to realize, when you have someone to eat it with. 

cookie jars placed on the highest shelf to give him an excuse to help you reach them,

maybe some sunflowers, something that could rival the brightness of your smile.

it comes to him so easily, when he’s with you; that upturn of his lips, the butterflies in his stomach.

having someone who worries for you is a luxury, satoru has come to realize.

they’re all so powerful bc they’re such small, subtle things but you have a way of magnifying them op 🥹 idk how u do it but it’s just so !!!! i love subtle intimacies and this entire fic was full of it!!!

when he calls reader silly omg 🤧 shut up that is so cute & then it’s even worse when he calls em ‘sleeping beauty’ omfg 😭

i like your take that satoru finds an easy, sweet love w reader 🥺 and that he realises that’s rlly how it’s supposed to be 🥺 mainly bc — i think he’s always been handed all these big, difficult things to handle nskensj and i like how u render his technique weak at the prospect of love 🥺 i just !!

and this bit: “did you… make these?” a pause. ”for me?” + “he can’t possibly be allowed to feel so loved — can he?” made my heart ache!! like he can’t believe it’s true 🥺 like why him? what did he do? (to deserve you?)

and it’s this!!:

maybe it’s more than that, maybe there’s nothing he can say or do; what words could he even begin to use to properly verbalize the emotions he’s feeling right now? how could his touch even begin to measure up to the sweet sensation unfurling in his chest?

his slow realisation that sometimes love is just like that, and there’s nothing to do but feel it, accept it, and hope that whoever he loves knows how he feels and feels it right back 🥺

and the small touches !!! the kiss to his neck !!! when he kisses reader !!! op im melting !!! for real 🥺

i love the reader you made for him here, so tender so loving ! worrying about him always even though he says there’s no need ☹️ and how he receives it !! by trying to fix his bad habits bc reader’s always concerned for him ☹️ and !!! when reader dotes on him i was sniffling !! “You did well” jaisnskdj i think bc he doesn’t get told it enough !!!! and i love exploring that side to him always !! the one that’s babied and handled with care 🥺

and their banter!! u got the perfect balance op 🥺 reader was so tender n loving while still so witty !! n teasing !! in the way satoru is ! and that makes for such good banter uGH i wish i could write like this 🥺

this scene:

”woah there,” satoru chokes out, grinning, desperately hoping you don’t notice the red tint to his ears. ”are you flirting with me? i have a partner, you know.”

a giggle slips from your lips, sleepy and amused. ”oh, do you?” one of your hands goes to cup his cheek,  thumb caressing the edge of his jaw as you gaze at him fondly. ”lucky them.”

i love it bc the joking around feels so intimate 🥺

and yeah 🥺 i rlly loved this so much op!! thank u thank u for writing it!!!

i’ll relearn love at our kitchen table ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru still doesn’t really know what love is supposed to feel like. but if it means coming home to you, and getting to bask in the warmth of your embrace and the sweet scent of pastries, then maybe it’s fine if it’s a curse.

word count; 4.9k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, satoru gojo vs. the mortifying ordeal of being loved, fluff fluff fluff!!, a hint of angst if you reeeaallyyy squint, gojo’s pov, the babygirlification of satoru gojo, i just think being babied would fix him <3

a/n; i wanted to write something for suguru or shoko but this man is genuinely holding my brain hostage atp so more satoru fluff it is!! physically i could write gojo angst yes but emotionally? imagine the toll…

when satoru steps over the threshold to your apartment, he’s downright exhausted.

a heavy kind of fatigue, a little sickening. the kind that seems to sneak its way into his bones, crawl its way under his skin. dragging him down, down, down.

a yawn slips from his lips.

the mission itself wasn’t too tough — anything is a breeze for satoru gojo, that fact needs no elaboration. this one was just a little more taxing than usual, slightly more important, which means he had to deal with the technicalities of it all. had to listen to the elders go on and on about the importance of discretion, about finishing things swiftly and efficiently, and something else he didn’t stick around long enough to hear.

and the curse? a small fry, really. nothing worth fussing over. but it was annoying, with that irritatingly effective barrier technique. how long did he have to stay inside that goddamn veil before it let him get close enough to land a hit? 

satoru doesn’t want to think about it, can’t be bothered to figure it out when all he wants is to collapse into the warm comfort of a soft mattress.

all he knows is that when it finally lifted, the night sky was the only thing he could see. a vacuum of stars — taunting in its perpetuity.

so, with all that being said; to say satoru feels a little worn out might be a bit of an understatement. 

hair slightly tousled, eyelids heavy with sleep-deprivation, he slumps against the wall and allows himself to simply breathe. a soft groan flows from his parted lips as he stretches idly, a small respite for his stiff and achy joints, his tired muscles. 

it’s been a long day. but satoru still finds it in him to exhale a relieved breath, to drag his blindfold down to his neck and kick off his shoes.

because it’s been a long, long day — but now he’s finally home.

(not just a house, not just an apartment, but a home. a place of comfort and belonging. satoru didn’t think that was a luxury he would ever be able to afford.)

the moment he lets the door close behind him, a particular scent greets him. soothing in its familiarity, the only thing in his life that never seems to change; a blend between fresh laundry, and watered houseplants, and something that smells a bit like honey. maybe even sweeter than usual, though satoru chalks that up to his mind playing tricks on him. 

it’s nice. so nice. coming back to something warm and real, a respite from his hectic work. a safe haven of sorts, one that hasn’t been taken from him just yet.

satoru likes to think of your front door as a threshold between realms, a gap between within and without. one is dark in its saturation, plagued by that never-fading smell of iron, while the other is simply warm. sacred in its normalcy. 

everything looks just as it should, the same as when he rushed out this morning; a fluffy blanket draped over the couch haphazardly, that soft golden light streaming out from the kitchen, your shoes by the front door.

satoru blinks, drowsily.

wait.

why is the kitchen light still on?

as if his eyes could ever deceive him, satoru rubs the skin under them groggily — blinking once, then twice. 

yep, it’s still there — that soft fluorescent glow. a sight he’s come to associate with breakfast and dinner and a mellow kind of love, laughter shared over warm meals made by human hands. food tastes better, satoru has come to realize, when you have someone to eat it with. 

ah, but it’s odd. did you forget to turn the lights off? that’s not very like you. 

as if possessed by a strange, irresistible longing, his feet carry him to the kitchen in question. undeniably groggy, his uncoordinated steps are riddled with fatigue, but the yearning in his chest compels him to move forward anyway — a kind of yearning he only fully understands when he enters the space, and sees you slumped over the table, a familiar flicker of cursed energy capturing his attention.

you’re asleep.

satoru stills, where he stands by the threshold between the kitchen and the living room.

everything looks the same as always — cookie jars placed on the highest shelf to give him an excuse to help you reach them, origami made from newspapers he never bothers to read anyway, a vase standing proudly on the kitchen counter, stuffed with fresh flowers he bought for you two days ago. 

the red roses still haven’t wilted, shining in the blue of the moonlight flickering in. good. they’re pretty, but maybe next time he should get you something more original. maybe some sunflowers, something that could rival the brightness of your smile. do they even sell sunflowers this time of year? 

if you were awake, he would ask you, preferring your guidance over google’s. but you're not awake, you’re fast asleep, cheek squished against the kitchen table as you softly snore.

satoru feels his mood lift at the sight alone, and suddenly he doesn’t feel as tired anymore. something soft and almost otherworldly sprouts in his chest, as he takes you in, stepping closer. almost giddy, just to see you up close.

you look so peaceful and relaxed, so content. elbows resting on the table as soft little breaths fall from your lips; he spots a bit of drool on the corner of your bottom lip, gaze fond as he wipes it away with his thumb. he can’t resist the urge to poke your cheek, and it makes you stir ever so slightly — lips curling up into something akin to a sleepy smile.

satoru grins.

(you’re so cute.)

despite his fatigue, he hears himself chuckle, all soft and amused and a little bit lovesick. it comes to him so easily, when he’s with you; that upturn of his lips, the butterflies in his stomach.

satoru is still getting used to it. this cotton candy sweet, light as a feather kind of love. the kind that always feels like spring. 

but with every day that passes, the life he has with you becomes a little easier to digest. his future with you becomes a little easier to visualize.

yeah, he thinks. he could get used to this. coming home to you.

a soft smile, as he exhales a somewhat exasperated breath. you really shouldn’t be sleeping out here, though. silly.

satoru leans forward, inching closer to your pretty, sleeping face — he almost feels bad, waking you up like this. but he wants to hear your voice so badly.

so he cups your cheek, cold skin meeting warm, his hands still lingering with the bite of the midnight air. his fingertips tingle, buzzing with the body heat that trickles from your veins to his — one single touch is all it takes for him to soften.

the word that falls from his lips breaks the peaceful silence of the kitchen, breathing life into the moment. whispered into your ear, causing your brows to furrow as you gently slip from sleep’s embrace.

“baby…” 

satoru is smiling, when your eyelids flutter open. a sincere smile, reserved for you and his students. bathed in the mellow hue of the kitchen lamp’s illumination, a soft glow curls around the strands of his white hair, a halo of artificial light.

blinking sleepily, you gaze at him in silence. something shines in your eyes, something satoru tentatively recognizes as adoration. 

satoru gazes right back at you, with heavy-lidded eyes and a lopsided smile. teasing, lighthearted. thumb smoothing over the apple of your cheek.

he grins, hopelessly endeared. ”hey there, sleeping beauty.”

a yawn tumbles from your lips, and you lift yourself up, leaning into his touch. “toru…” you mumble, voice a little raspy but still oh so sweet.

satoru doesn’t say anything. he simply takes you into his arms, gently, touch so very delicate — as if you’re made of porcelain. and you just let yourself fall into his embrace, while he tucks you under his chin, safe and secure. 

it’s warm, he thinks. it feels right. complete, somehow.

and satoru thinks to himself that this must be what love feels like. what it’s supposed to feel like, anyhow, all sweet and light. all good and normal, something you never have to question. a cornerstone.

“you’re back…” you drawl, muffled into his uniform as your arms sneak around his thin waist. bringing him closer.

stroking the back of your head softly, satoru’s chest rumbles as he speaks, voice deep and a little raspy. soothing, a lullaby just for you. “yeah,” he hums. ”were you waiting?”

all you do is nuzzle further into his chest, cheek smooshed right over his heart; breathing out a sleepy little mhm that has him going weak at the knees, lips curling up helplessly.

“i wanted to…” you continue, stretching your arms a little to shrug away the remnants of sleep still clinging to your joints. “but i fell asleep.” 

satoru feels you move in his arms, until your jaw settles on top of his shoulder and you press a chaste kiss to his neck. an exhale leaves his lips, something tender in the way his breath wavers.

“welcome home,” is whispered, muffled against his skin. a sentence he never wants to go a single day without hearing. “did the mission go okay?”

satoru plants a kiss on top of your head, speaking in a low tilt, reassuring. “it did. just took a little longer than i thought.” a soft inhale, as he basks in the scent of your shampoo. “i wanted to text you, but the veil blocked my signal. sorry, sweetie.”

another soft yawn, and a shake of your head. “s’ fine, don’t worry,” you murmur. ”i’m just glad you’re okay.”

satoru chuckles. there’s a fondness to it, light. and then something else, something more heavy — it rumbles through his chest, almost like a purr, or a soothing thunderstorm. he can only hope it’s enough to comfort you.

“of course.” he says the words like they’re indisputable, like they’re written down in scriptures old and worn. cradling you in his strong arms, he pulls you closer to his chest. hoping you’ll feel his heartbeat against you, feel that he’s there. “i always am, aren’t i?”

no answer. only a tiny hum, absentminded.

and satoru knows, deep down, that his words don’t mean much. that a part of you is always going to worry over him, no matter how many times he tells you that there’s no need. that he’ll be fine.

the thought makes him feel a bit guilty. a little sick to his stomach, at the thought of being a source of your anxiety, the reason you can’t fall asleep at night.

but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t also make him feel somewhat giddy.

the thought tastes sweet, on his tongue, even though it probably shouldn’t. having someone who worries for you is a luxury, satoru has come to realize. a luxury he has, now, one he hasn’t felt since —

well. that’s neither here nor there.

(“be careful, satoru,” he recalls a kind boy saying.

but that was many, many springs ago.)

“oh, right.”

at the sound of your voice, satoru pulls away ever so slightly, gazing down at you. “hm?”

you take a step back, looking up at him with a tilt of your head. hands still resting securely on his waist, fingertips squeezing at his hips lightly, affectionately. ”have you had anything to eat yet?”

“yeah. got some takeout on my way back.”

satoru expects you to sigh in relief, at his instantaneous answer. you don’t like it when he skips meals, so these days he’s been trying not to do it as much. even though he doesn’t always have the time to eat properly, and even though the sweets he chews on between missions make him lose his appetite. but he makes an honest attempt, for you.

someone worries for him. someone wants him to eat well.

that’s more than enough for satoru gojo.

but you don’t exhale, and you don’t look very relieved, either. you look… disappointed. eyes suddenly glancing down at the floor, lips curled down into a barely noticeable frown. 

“oh,” you breathe. “okay. good.”

one second. then two. satoru tilts his head.

“why?” he stops to think. maybe… “did you make something?”

a certain recognition flickers in the depths of your eyes, and satoru thinks he must be right on the money. chewing at your bottom lip a little, you wait a moment before curling your fingers around his wrist — tugging him away from the kitchen table.

satoru follows, pliantly, until you’re standing in front of the fridge.

“well, um… here,” you mumble, somewhat sheepishly. fingers tapping at the handle before pulling it open. “take a look.”

satoru watches as the fridge door opens, slowly.

he blinks.

the first thing he sees is a single slice of strawberry shortcake. the strawberry looks fresh, glittering like a ruby on top of the softly whisked cream — and layers of sponge cake, that look like they’d melt in his mouth.

and that’s not all. there are a wide array of baked treats stuffed into the cramped space, protected by plastic wrapping and containers. everything from cupcakes with too much frosting — just the way he likes them — to chocolate chip cookies that crumble at the corners, satoru never seems to run out of things to look at. 

colourful treats, lovingly made and sitting right in front of him. it’s like he’s standing in a patisserie. they almost seem to sparkle, in the peripheral of his vision; glimmering softly, tantalizingly, like something out of a dream.

childish. that’s what nanami and shoko always call him, and he always protests, but — maybe they have a point, after all. satoru certainly feels a little childish, when he realizes his eyes must be wide and bursting with child-like giddiness. a simple kind of joy, at seeing the ample selection in front of him. especially after that tedious mission prevented him from getting any sugar into his system.

”i did my best,” you mutter, sharing the sight with him as your eyes trail over a pretty bag of macarons. ”dunno if they turned out any good, but… i hope you’ll like them.”

satoru’s gaze flits over to you. 

he opens his mouth, and then closes it again.

”did you… make these?” a pause. ”for me?”

a blink. you look somewhat confused, nodding stiffly. ”yeah.” who else would they be for?, your eyes seem to say.

for a second, satoru only stares at you. in complete silence, the tired cogs inside his head turning sluggishly as he thinks about the implications of that answer. with a soft flutter, he feels his heartbeat pick up, warming him up from the inside out. 

you made them. with your own hands. you made all of these and you did it for him.

for some reason, satoru finds it oddly hard to speak — like someone stuffed a bunch of cupcakes down his throat. it’s weird. usually he can’t seem to stop talking, especially not when he’s with you, but… 

something about this is just too tender.

you must have been baking all day. no wonder the apartment smelled sweeter than usual, when he walked in.

as if itching to curl around one of the macarons, his fingers twitch, but satoru gulps and keeps them still. he wants to say something, anything, wants to thank you or ask why you’d spend so much of yourself on him, but satoru only stays silent.

and maybe it’s because he’s tired. maybe he’s just a little caught off guard. usually this wouldn’t be that hard to handle — he could just throw himself on you and shower you in kisses, show his appreciation with a flurry of dramatics and declarations of love. 

but right now there seems to be a disconnect, between satoru’s mind and body. maybe the mission drained him more than he realized. or maybe it’s more than that, maybe there’s nothing he can say or do; what words could he even begin to use to properly verbalize the emotions he’s feeling right now? how could his touch even begin to measure up to the sweet sensation unfurling in his chest?

the silence doesn’t last long. as satoru stands there and spirals, you speak up, most likely chalking it up to him being too sleepy to react. 

”this mission was especially rough, right?” you begin, with a soft tilt of your head. a smile curls its way onto your lips, proud and sweet. sweeter than everything in the fridge combined.

one step, then two. you inch closer to him, until there’s almost no space between you — standing on your tiptoes, one hand on his shoulder and the other reaching for his head. smoothing down his tousled hair, fingers tangling themselves between the soft white strands and getting lost in them. and it’s gentle, the way you begin to pat his head, doting. 

then you speak. ”you did well.”

and it’s such a simple thing to say. three words, three syllables, but the words just tumble out from your mouth so earnestly that satoru can’t help but still. his breath hitches in his throat, softly, barely noticeable, but it’s there. that surprise.

satoru never knows how to act, when you get like this. patting his head and ruffling his hair like he’s something warm and sweet and worthy of love. something delicate, and not the strongest man on the planet. 

it’s so weird. you’re so weird.

(satoru leans into your touch without thinking, allowing his eyes to flutter shut.)

it’s perplexing, this feeling, and the fact that he can’t pinpoint why frustrates him to no end. isn’t this wrong? shouldn’t he be the one ruffling your hair, coddling you?

what formula is he supposed to follow here, exactly? should he tease you? pull away from your touch?

satoru wishes his six eyes could tell him the answer, but they don’t. they’ve never been very good with emotions, with things that aren’t directly tied to his suffering or imminent death.

(so ironic. all these eyes and nothing to see. they failed to see suguru’s silence, back then, and now they fail to see what reaction would please you the most. 

really, such a worthless ability to love people with.)

no answer comes to him. so satoru doesn’t tease you, and he doesn’t pull away.

it does feel slightly wrong, though. like this feeling isn’t something he’s supposed to have, there must be some mistake, he can’t possibly be allowed to feel so loved — can he? having you bake him all his favorite treats, run your fingers through his hair. praise him for working hard. really, isn’t he being too coddled?

… but it feels so nice.

satoru suspects that there’s a lot to love he might not fully understand, just yet.

maybe tomorrow, when he’s a little less tired, he can try once again to give you the impression that he’s perfect. that he doesn’t need affection, that he doesn’t crave your support or your touch. that he’s above all that, the strongest, someone for you to depend on.

depend on him, while he depends on no one. that’s the kind of existence satoru gojo is. that’s how it should be, that’s all he knows, but…

ah. it feels really nice when your nails scratch his scalp like that.

and suddenly, that’s all satoru can think. no more pesky what-ifs, or second guessing every good thing he gets. right now, it’s just you and him. your fingers in his hair, his footprints in your life.

satoru allows himself to melt under your touch, almost meekly. leaning down just a little further, to make it easier for you to smooth your hand over his head. he nuzzles into your palm with a happy little exhale, and for some reason he feels sort of bashful.

try as he might, satoru doesn’t manage to successfully shoo the emotion away, so all he can do is hope you don’t take note of it.

and you just continue your onslaught of affection, now ruffling his hair with both your hands, like he’s a big puppy getting cooed over. satoru suspects that you might be getting a little carried away, but he doesn’t stop you. greedy, in the way he wishes your hands would never leave his hair. the way he hopes you’ll never be too far away from him to reach.

”such a hard worker,” you coo, and he feels himself grow flustered. ”my baby deserves so much love.”

”woah there,” satoru chokes out, grinning, desperately hoping you don’t notice the red tint to his ears. ”are you flirting with me? i have a partner, you know.”

a giggle slips from your lips, sleepy and amused. ”oh, do you?” one of your hands goes to cup his cheek,  thumb caressing the edge of his jaw as you gaze at him fondly. ”lucky them.”

the grin you’re wearing is awfully bright. soft around the edges in a way that has him speechless, brain malfunctioning ever so slightly. satoru makes a mental note to scrap the sunflower idea — there has to be some brighter flower out there, one that can actually compete with your smile. sunflowers just won’t cut it.

but then you let go, and satoru gets broken out of his lovesick stupor. when your hands leave his skin, his lips curl down into a soft pout — one he rushes to smooth away, before you can notice it.

you step back, failing to stifle a soft bout of laughter — and satoru knows it’s not because you saw the pout, when he realizes that your gaze is glued to his hair. he internally winces when he thinks about how messy it must look, after your little bout of cuteness aggression. 

(you really are weird, finding him cute of all things.)

he expects you to tease him a little more, but you don’t, turning away and tapping your fingers on the kitchen counter. ”if i’d known you’d be home this late,” you speak, stealing one last glance at the pastries before closing the fridge. ”then i would’ve waited until tomorrow. so you could eat them fresh.”

an apology rests on satoru’s tongue, but as if sensing it, you rush to reassure him.

”ah, but this is fine too! they should still taste good!” you turn away, muttering. ”… hopefully.”

then you nod to yourself, crossing your arms absentmindedly. 

satoru looks at you for a second. 

then he steps forward, unable to resist the temptation — tapping at your wrist with the pads of his fingers, before gently curling them around it, coaxing you into turning your head towards him.

the kiss he presses to your lips is soft, delicate. his fingers trace along your jaw, cupping your cheek and tilting your face up slightly, just letting his warm lips rest against yours. sweet and chaste. he sighs into the kiss, content, and feels your pulse pick up.

then he moves down to your jaw, slow and methodical — lazy kisses, sleepy but so full of affection. and little pecks, scattered all over your lips, your cheek, the tip of your nose.

you seem to melt a little, against him, and satoru relishes in it; his ability to make you relax. far more valuable than the six eyes, he would argue.

when he pulls away from you, with what takes tremendous self-restraint, he’s smiling. his gaze meets yours, layered over with pure adoration, blue eyes crinkling as he looks at you. as if you’re his entire world. the kitchen light embraces him, cascading down the contours of his face; the bridge of his nose, the curve of his jaw, his barely noticeable dimples.

and there it is, again — that flicker of love in your eyes, that adoration. as if you’re looking at a painting, something too beautiful for words.

(satoru hopes you can see that very same adoration, reflected in his eyes as he looks at you.)

after a moment, he leans forward, to rest his jaw on the curve of your shoulder. you stumble a little under the weight, caged in as his arms hug your midriff.

”god,” he sighs, breathless, heavy with giddy disbelief. almost whining when he continues, nuzzling into your neck as if to hide. ”why are you so perfect, huh? i don’t get it.”

at that, you huff out a laugh, an amused little breath. wrapping your arms around his neck and scratching at his nape softly. satoru shudders just a little, arms tightening around you.

”stealing my line…” you mutter, accusatory, smile laced over with a honeyed affection. 

another amused breath is exhaled into the air of the kitchen, this time from him. ”nah,” he grins, tugging you closer. ”’s mine.”

this is warm, he thinks. this feels right. complete, in a way that satoru never understood before you.

he could probably stand there forever, just basking in it. soaking up your body heat and the smell of your shampoo. until your warmth is all he knows, until he can never get your scent off his skin.

and satoru thinks that he could get used to this. a cotton candy sweet, light as a feather kind of love, one that smells like spring and tastes like strawberry shortcakes and feels like tight hugs shared in kitchens.

your love makes him feel so human. and it’s scary, terrifying even, but it's also too good to pass up. it’s worth the risk. so worth everything.

a yawn leaves your lips, suddenly. satoru feels you soften in his embrace, nuzzling closer to him, stumbling just a tad. he doesn’t think it’s fair, for such a simple gesture to make him as happy as it does.

”sleepy?” he coos, smile giddy and fond. ”let’s go to bed, okay? no more sleeping on the kitchen table, silly.”

a disgruntled little huff resounds throughout the air, as you let your arms fall to your sides. ”that’s on you,” you declare, poking the plush of his chest with your finger. ”i only fell asleep because you took so long.”

a teasing glint flickers in satoru’s eyes.

”wanted to see me that badly, huh?” he coos. you roll your eyes, and he pulls your cheek. ”that’s cute.”

”so what if i did?”

satoru stills. you’re smiling, a little mischievous but mostly sincere. and it really is very unfair of you, he thinks — to do this to him while his guard is down. 

but he manages to pull himself together, raising an amused eyebrow and booping your nose in a way that catches you off guard. blinking up at him, eyelashes fluttering. 

satoru clears his throat. ”well, that’s sweet.”

he turns on his heel, suddenly, and strolls over to the fridge. ”but you know what’s even sweeter?” he chirps, fingers curling around the handle as he swiftly pulls it open. 

satoru licks his lips, absentmindedly, eyes trailing over all the different pastries. so close yet so far, just out of reach; his fingers move forward, towards that mesmerizing slice of strawberry shortcake —

”— no.”

a hand settles on satoru’s waist, and tugs him away from his well-deserved prize. taking advantage of his momentary surprise, you close the fridge decisively, and give him an unimpressed raise of your eyebrow.

satoru whines, loud and grating. pouting sweetly, trying to make you feel bad. ”c’mon, just one bite —”

”no.”

”but they’re for me!”

”they’re for you to eat tomorrow. i was only gonna let you eat them tonight if you were on the brink of starvation, or something.”

”i am!”

”so the takeout was a lie?” you narrow your eyes at him, suddenly suspicious. ”have you been skipping meals, again?”

satoru pauses. weighing his options. ”well, no, but…”

”— then no.”

another soft whine. you turn away from him, when he tilts his head and gives you his best set of puppy dog eyes. in fear of giving in to them, satoru knows, as you have so many times before. ”please?” he tries, to no avail.

”you’re not eating sweets before bed, satoru,” you deadpan, and his smile falls further, exaggerated. ”and no, we are not having that conversation again.”

he can tell you’re trying to sound stern, but a giggle tumbles from your lips nonetheless, at the ridiculousness of the situation. keeping a grown man away from your fridge, knowing that he’ll wolf down every pastry he sees and get himself sick if you don’t. all while the man in question whines at you in protest, frowing so deeply, disappointment evident on his features.

(except satoru really isn’t very disappointed at all. like this, he gets to stare at your smile all he wants, after all. knowing you won’t notice it, too busy trying to keep yourself from giving in to his pleas.)

he tries again, one last time. just because he knows it’ll make you laugh.��you do, a little exasperated, and satoru couldn’t be happier. 

and he thinks to himself that if this is what love is, if this is what it’s supposed to feel like, then it can’t possibly be that much of a curse. 

maybe he should revise the hypothesis, get a second opinion. he’ll have to ask you tomorrow, over pastries and coffee, and hear what you have to say.

as you both stumble to the bedroom, sleepy and a little delirious, satoru thinks that maybe this is enough; the lighthearted banter, the fond laughter. everything good and real and normal, within the space of your apartment, a home he never thought he’d have.

(and maybe, a second opinion isn’t necessary, after all. maybe it doesn’t really matter if love is a curse or not, as long as he gets to share it with you, like this.)

that night, satoru dreams. curled up with you beneath the blankets, limbs tangled together, as if he could never be close enough.

he dreams of kitchen lights, of sweet treats and warm hands. of spring breezes, and a love he’s finally beginning to accept for what it is:

good. wholly and thoroughly.

[noxtivagus]

awww watching arthars rn

[nqify]

I mean I don’t rlly like the sadistic Quaritch. I feel like yes he would be rough but not that much, he wouldn’t slap you or choke you bcs he would be scared of hurting you ( I mean look at him he’s so big ) but I feel like he’d be praising A LOT, rlly enjoying the size difference and just admiring you

Pls do 😙

no but YES!! cuz he’s so huge he doesn’t want to hurt you omg soft dom!quaritch!!! AHH!!!

soft dom. — miles quaritch ☆

pairings. na’vi!miles quaritch. fem!reader

content warnings. fluffy smut kind of??. daddy kink ofc.

note. for the softies out there!! I SEE YOU AND HEAR YOU!! we all need a soft dom!quaritch in our lives so I had to write this!! MILES SOFT DOM SUPREMACY

miles is massive, this dude is 9’5, basically towering over you. He doesn’t want to hurt you, ur just too small and too cute for him. he’s practically aweing at ur size difference.

let’s say you like following miles around base, always falling behind due to his large steps, so miles says, “hold my hand baby, gotta keep you close” AAHHH!!! your whole hand fits around his pointer finger. and he loves it.

bro is so scared of hurting you, he’s so careful with you. Whenever he picks you up he’s so gentle with his touches, making sure your as comfortable as he is.

so during the naughty time this MAN IS ON HIGH ALERT!!, “you okay baby??”, “you alright with this mama?”

it could be your first time taking him, like FULLY taking him in. he’d have you in missionary, back arching off the bed sheets as you grab miles’ shoulders for support. he’d see you struggle to take him in and FEEL SO BAD!!

miles would pull away from you and look down, his hands would travel to your stomach and put pressure on it, “baby cmon, I know you can take it all, be a good girl for me yeah?” and ur just nodding, anything to make him happy.

when you finally take all of him in HES SHOCKED!!! he’s praising you ALOT, “that’s my girl, taking me so well aren’t you babygirl?”

cuz he’s so vocal he’s praising you 24/7, even without the devils tango. You could be doing smth for him and he’d come behind you and say, “look at you baby!! making me so proud” he’d leave little kisses on your head.

when u r a brat to him he TRYS so hard to punish you. But he just can’t. He’d try overstimulating you but your constant whining and whimpering makes him feel bad for his baby, “I’m sorry ma, you gotta take this for me okay?? gotta learn ur lesson alright??, you can do that right? just for daddy??” yes ofc omg.

after his done punishing you he’d hold you close, “good girl, took it so well” and then BOOM your gonna get the best sex ever.

he’s def a passionate lover!! he loves feeling you close to him!! loves positions like missionary, cowgirl or full nelson. he sees sex as an important thing in a relationship, it builds connection, soul tying even.

he just loves hearing you get all flustered when ur about to cum. Cuz u guys are so close to eachother he can tell just by your sounds that your going to release, “you gonna cum princess?? cmon baby, cum for me, cum for daddy, make him proud”. you cry out and flutter around his dick, causing him to groan in your ear.

lemme elaborate on the full Nelson position!! full Nelson is when your partner is practically picking you up and fucking you. He’d have your legs spread open, his hands holding your thighs for support as your back hit his chest.

your hands would be finding the back of his hair to pull. and oh lord, he’s loving you in this position. your so vulnerable and so so small my god.

“mama, u look so fucking good rn. u take this dick so good don’t you?? yeah you do. my girl makes daddy feel so fucking good s-shit” he’s moaning and groaning in your ear babe!!!

hes being so gentle with you too!! being careful not to dig his nail into your poor, aching thighs. or being super careful with his thrusts. he doesn’t want to hurt his baby!!

whenever he wanted to go a little rough he would always give u a heads up, “baby Ima go a little harder okay?? you alright with that??” YEA U R!!

hes fully pounding into you, always double checking at your state to make sure okay. He’s going in deep, reaching all the right places!! that’s when he hits your g-spot

you cry out, AND HE KNOWS HE HIT IT. “shit, baby, this the spot right?? this the spot that’s gonna make u scream my name, yeah mama??” 100% yes.

he just keeps hitting it over and over again. “s-so close, m-miles pls!! lemme cum pls!!” your begging and whining for him. HIS POOR BABY!!

“such a good girl for asking, fuck baby, need you to cum, cmon, need it so bad” you could feel him get close too. He’s twitching in you. You whine his name when u orgasm, causing him to buck his hips.

“fuck, princess, gonna cum, shit, gonna take this load right?? I know u can baby, you can do that for me mm??” ur nodding your head. “pls daddy!!! cum in me!! make me yours” GIRLLLLL HE IS CUMMING FOR SHRE

he moans ur name, slowly bucking his hips. First thing he does is check up on you. He’d lay you down and rub your thighs with his thumbs. “you okay baby?? I didn’t go too rough on you??” you’d shake ur head no, coming back to reality. Your shaking and twitching. “mama, ur shaking”

“that’s a good thing miles, that means u did it well” HES SO PROUD OF HIMSELF!! EGO BOOSTED. he’d smiled at you with his little fangs, wagging his tail.

“give daddy a kiss mama” MWAHMWAHMWAH ur smooching all over him cuz HE IS PRETTY AAA!!

just saying again requests will be closed later today so send as many stuff as you can now!!!

[nezuscribe]

ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴏᴏꜰᴛᴏᴘ

---

pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

summary: one thing led to another and the argument you had with peter a couple weeks ago put a rift in your relationship, when spiderman comes in unannounced at your pit party, it only opens a door to two idiots finding their peace with one another.

genre: angst, ex-friends(ish) to lovers, fluff

word count: 3.2k+

note: this is just a blurb i wrote bc nothing is working out for me rn so i needed to destress with this fine ass man

masterlist

---

As much as it was difficult to discern between the glossiness of your eyes and the blurry skylines of Queens, you really wanted to guess it was tears that were causing this.

The wind was biting and unforgiving, and although you had initially thought it would be this chilly, there was a whole new set of emotions that sent your body in a rigid form.

There was a box of pizza next to you, and even if your stomach rumbled, you knew you couldn't hold the food down for long.

With the air that rushed past your ears and the erratic thumping in your weak chest, you missed the little thump that came from behind you.

"Whoa..." Your shoulders froze at the voice, "You're not um," You whipped your neck around, mouth falling open in surprise when you saw who it was, "You're not thinking of jumping, are you?"

Despite his wide popularity, especially around your area, you had never seen the hero before, and seeing spiderman up close was definitely much more intimidating than you thought it would be.

He was clad in his infamous red suit, though his voice was certainly much deeper than you expected it to be. Perhaps even fake? It sounded far too low for any normal human being.

You felt your cheeks heating up in his presence regardless, embarrassed that the celebrated hero found you in such a vulnerable state, and you quickly swatted at your cheeks to rid them of any tear tracks.

"I-" You paused, not knowing if you should bow or courtesy or shake his hand, and you suddenly felt your mouth running dry as you continued to just stare at him, "Mr, um, spiderman? It's such an honor, oh god, if only my friends were here, oh wow..." You trailed off, rambling as you paced back and forth, heartbeat picking up as you stuttered to a stop.

"No! I'm not um," You suddenly remembered his original question as you glanced behind you, to the ledge you were sitting on, and gulped, "Not thinking of j-jumping."

His little eyes narrowed and you took a step back, picking at your nails as you nervously looked back at him, not knowing what you should do.

You watched in silence as he gazed around you, noting the little blankets you had laid out, the pizza box left untouched, the little cupcakes you had made earlier, the laptop whose screen faded to black after some time of no use, and you could almost see the questioning in his spider-eyes.

Peter, in all his glorious honesty, didn't know why he was here.

From the way it had been going the past couple of weeks, it seemed that you no longer wanted anything to do with him. The arguing had gotten to such a point he genuinely questioned if you could even stand being in the same room as him, let alone spend quality time together.

But he knew you too well, your apartment building too well, and seeing your frame on that rooftop worried a part of him he never knew was there.

Aside from your awkward shuffling, it seemed that you were either nervous from him being here, or just not expecting any company guessing on the layout, but a part of him itched, no, ached to speak with you again, even if it wasn't on knowing terms.

You, however, half expected him to leave, seeing that his hero duty was out of the way. If you weren't going to jump, then he'd have no use being here. But he seemed quite intent on staying if his awkward posture said anything about it.

"That's um, that's good," He faltered when he saw you looking at him, quickly glancing somewhere else as he tried to think of logical reasoning behind you being up here.

"Are you havin' a party up here or something?" He finally asked after a couple of seconds of uncomfortable silence.

You must have had a shockingly surprised look on your face for the little laugh that escaped his lips, and you gave him a small smile, and then a nod.

"Yeah, um, actually," You rubbed the back of your head as you looked at the pitiful scene, "Can't say it's been such a success, though," You gave a sad snort, kicking some little pebbles aside as you waited for him to respond again.

He began walking around a bit, scooping out the rooftop as he looked over his shoulder, waiting for you to explain.

"What's the party for?" You watched intently, deciding whether or not to tell the famous hero the truth, but you figured this would be the last you'd be seeing of him, so you shrugged, sitting down near the ledge as you rested your chin on your elbows, peering out into the skyline as you answered.

"My birthday," You sighed, trying your best to bit back the tears you had so terribly fought against the past hour, "But uh," You gnawed on your lip from keeping it from wobbling, "Not many people showed up if I'm being honest."

Unbeknownst to you, since your back was to him, Peter stopped instantly upon your words, heart freezing in his chest as he watched your breathing become a bit ragged.

No, it couldn't have been today. It had to have been in a couple weeks, it had to be, but as he counted the days down in his head he could only come to one faithful number.

"So," He clenched his fists, grateful that you couldn't see him, "Who came?" Please, he prayed, let Gwen have to remember to come.

You took in another shaky breath, really hoping that the masked hero had terrible hearing as you shrugged, quickly wiping at your eyes as you harshly bit your cheek.

"Nobody," You breathed roughly through your nose, "But it's okay, actually," You looked back at him, trying to look your strongest as you pointed to the pizza and cupcakes, "I'll probably just celebrate with my parents when they come back from their trip." You felt your voice get quieter and quieter in embracement. Eventually, you just shut up as you let the roar of car honking take over.

For once, he was grateful you didn't know of his identity. It helped him a bit by looking like less of a dick as he slowly approached you, still formulating the words to make up for his unmasked counterpart.

"Well, they're all terrible friends, then," He said carefully, calculating your response.

Even so, he didn't want to blame her for a mistake that was his fault. He knew he should have taken the blame for the falling out you had a while ago, but his ego was far too big to accept something like that.

So instead, he just brought you down with him, when he knew damn well it wasn't your fault.

But instead, curse your evergrowing heart, you let out a soft giggle, rubbing your nose to hide the snot as he crouched down a bit further from you.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have guessed you'd be spending your birthday with the spiderman. Even if you were crying your eyes out in front of him, it felt a little better to be with someone than to be alone.

"It's kinda on my end, if I'm being honest," You admitted, giving a wet chuckled as you glanced at his mask, gnawing on our bottom lip as you decided if you should tell him the truth.

"Oh?" Peter wanted to know more, who you wanted to blame, but spiderman just had to act curious, and a part of him felt terrible for lying to you like.

In all your years of knowing you, you've never done anything to deliberately hurt him. Push him sometimes, sure, but that's what your friendship was. Cheesy jokes, lame movie jabs, and hours spent struggling over chemistry homework because the teacher just refused to hold any office hours.

"Yeah," You heaved out another sigh, turning around as you leaned back on the bricks, "I haven't really been speaking to them, but..." You trailed off, deep in thought. You knew the texts went through, so it was only up to them to ignore it.

You hoped, in a sense, that this would reconcile things between your group. You could count on a singular hand how many times this had happened before, and you really tried your best to use things you knew they liked to get them to ease up a bit.

"It's no excuse for them not to come. They're your friends," He firmly said in his deep voice, and despite his serious tone, you let out another laugh, stopping instantly when you felt as though you were disrespecting him.

His eyes narrowed again, but under his mask, he felt his lips quirk up in a small smile, thankful to have made you laugh somehow, even if it was indirectly caused.

"What?" He questioned, but even then, it might have been the ain you felt or just how tired you were from everything, you chortled again.

"I'm sorry, it's just that," You pointed weakly to his mask, "Your voice is a bit, well," You bit your lip, thinking of the right worm "Distorted."

Peter grinned, shifting his posting so that he was crossing his knees, facing you as he shrugged, playing with the hem of the blanket as he answered.

"Can't have ya' bumping into me on the street and recognizing me by voice, that's just a hassle for me to clean up," He really hoped you could tell that he was teasing despite his messed up tone, but your chest rumbled as you let out a stronger laugh, still stuffy from your crying, but still, improvement.

"Threatening to kill an innocent citizen? Surely that can't look good on your record," You joked back and he let out an audible sigh of relief.

"Not kill," His hands bumped your shoe on accident as he situated himself more comfortably on the floor, "There are more ways to make someone quiet." Peter truly knew none of them.

And just like that, you and Peter fell into your little playful banter, and after he wondered why he felt so full after being so empty these past couple of weeks, and with a solemn, guilty look at you, he knew why.

"Do you want some pizza?" You offered randomly, and almost wanted to bury yourself deep in a pile of sand for even speaking.

"Pizza?" His head turned to the box as if he'd never heard the word before.

"Yeah," You shrugged, "It's a bit cold though. But for everything you do for New York, you can have a slice, as long as you promise not to kill me when you see me on the street," You sent him a little wink and behind the mask, Peter wanted to hide his face in his hands for blushing.

"You sure?" He was hesitant in even asking the question. What would you think if you knew it was him under that mask? Surely you wouldn't offer the pizza to the Peter you knew.

"Yeah, f'course," You pushed the box to him, and then your little tupperware of cupcakes as well, "You can have some of these if you'd want, too."

His hands faltered over the box.

"Really?" It felt wrong eating this food. This had to be crossing some sort of friendship, ex-friends, on the brink, whatever the two of you were, line.

"Take as many as you'd like," You assured him as you pushed them in his direction, ducking your face in your hands, entirely angeling your back towards him as he stopped his movements.

"What are you doing?" He asked and you felt your brows furrow at the obvious question.

"Giving you privacy, of course," You responded as if it was the only explanation.

He chuckled, shaking his head as you peaked over at the ground, only for him to be peering back up at you, and you let out a quiet yelp.

The bottom of his mask was lifted up, and you could only see his mouth and the tip of his nose as he waved to you.

"Thankfully you can stare at me all you want, this mask can be detached." You felt your cheeks warm up at his words, especially now that you could actually hear his real voice.

"You are aware that I now know what you sound like, right?" You tilted your head to the side, and almost laughed when the pizza stopped right at his mouth, and you heard him let out a quiet shit before he went back to eating.

After he was done chewing, and gulped dryly, trying to see if you knew who he really was.

"Guess I'll just have to take you out now," He went for a cupcake, noting that it was chocolate, your least favorite flavor, and as he looked at you he wondered why you would have ever made these for your birthday.

"Gonna kill me on my birthday?" You rested your head back, looking up at the cloudy sky as you let out a deep breath, taking into account the sounds of happiness he made when he bit into the sweet.

"Nah," You peeked at him, seeing the little chocolate crumbs that cornered his lips and smiled, "I told 'ya; there are more ways than just one."

You feel your hands balling into fists the more he ate, almost feeling like throwing the laptop at his head if it wasn't for the damage that would follow in suit.

"Hey, Pete?" You asked, testing out your suspicion the moment you heard him speak.

"Yeah?"

His second cupcake fell from his hand as he slowly looked up, eyes widening as a look of fury overtook your features, standing up quickly as you stalked away, almost running as you tried to get to the stairs.

"H-hey! Wait up! Y/n!" You heard him calling your name, the sound getting closer and closer until a hand wrapped itself around your wrist, gently tugging you back.

You didn't expect to bump right into his chest, looking up and see his bare face, brown eyes filled with worry, hair falling into his face as he tried to carefully hold you down.

"Get off me!" You yelled, pushing his hands aside in a weak attempt as you felt new waves of tears rolling in, a new feeling flooding your veins, your brain, your heart as yous tared up a somebody you thought you had never before until tonight.

He'd never told you? Had he told Gwen? Aunt May? Why didn't he come? This had to be why he'd always show up to class with poorly-covered bruises on his face and say they came from slipping on the stairs. The questions shakily flooded your thoughts as Peter tried his best to stop you from squirming around.

"Y/n, come on, please give me a se-" You stopped, sending him a deathly looking glare as he ducked his head in shame.

"What are you thinking?" You seethed, pushing against his chest as you assessed his uniform, "Spiderman, really? Pete y-you can't be a hero right now, you're too young! It's so dangerous! A-and you have school! A-and May!" You yelled, walking wildly around as you gripped your scalp in defiant anger.

"Y/n..." He followed you around, but you shook your head, pointing a finger into his chest as you tried to wipe at your eyes to hide your weakness from him.

"God, fuck you, Peter! You stop talking to me for weeks and then show up hours after I texted you to come?" He felt his resolve shatter as your lips wobbled.

"Do you hate me? Just say it, please, I-I can't do this anymore!" You threw your hands up, going back to gnawing on your nails as you paced around, "You always flake on me, but then I see you hanging out with Gwen hours later and I just feel so stupid..." You stopped shaking and he instantly wrapped his arms around your frame, feeling your cheek pressed against his chest as you silently sobbed.

"Why didn't you come, Pete?" You whispered against his suit.

He didn't know. He didn't want to lie to you, not ever, so he stayed silent.

"Do you hate me?" You felt so weak, hands against him, trying to push away but knowing that in the end, you'd never stray far away from the comfort that was him.

"God, no, Y/n," He quickly shook his head, his hand rubbing a slow hand over your spine, his gloved hands still warm in a sense as he pressed his cheek to the top of your head, "I don't hate you. I could never hate you," He said, voice heavy as he felt slow hands wrap themselves around his waist.

"Then why," You pressed your lips together to stop the quiet sob, "Why didn't you come?"

He faltered. Before he could stop himself, he felt the truth tumbling out into a spew of words he no longer had control over but had longed to say for so long.

"Because I'm in love with you, Y/n," He felt you stop under his hands, "I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember. A-and I know, I know I shouldn't have yelled at you that night but you just scared me so much that I didn't know what to do. Y-you came in with scratches all over your face and I just forgot about your cat..." He trailed off, pulling away from you as he tried to search your eyes for a reaction, anything to tell him that he wasn't speaking to a wall.

"You love me?" You whispered back, hands hovering over his as you almost couldn't believe what he had just said.

Your breathing stopped as he slowly shook his head, not knowing if your question was good or bad.

"I-I well, love is such a broad term that you can't really kno-"

"I love you too." You stuttered out, and he stopped at your words, looking down at you as if you had hung the moon and stars and had just spoken the unforbidden words of truth he had only hoped to hear in his dreams.

He stopped, hands working almost like a clockwise motion as they carefully moved up your face, tracing your features as if he had never seen them before.

"Really?"

You nodded, but then glared at him, with no real malice in your eyes.

"Doesn't excuse you for not coming to my birthday, though." His hand still traveled up, cupping your cheek as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I know, I promise I'll make it all up to you this entire month. Anythin' you ask for darlin', I'll give you everything." It was a promise his confession wouldn't even need, but he wasn't lying. He'd give you the entire world if he could.

"You better," you muttered as he lifted you up to his lips, feeling them fall onto yours as they moved in tangent, almost as if they were meant to be there, and despite being in a spiderman suit, covered in crumbs and pizza sauce, hours late to your party, in a sense, you couldn't have asked for anything else as a gift.

[hanasnx]

indy review time

touching on his inclination to nurture <3 because that's so true. like he's such a thoughtful and caring person, and it may be zany but ultimately means well. i'm thinking of that one episode where we learn that he's kept carly's inhaler on hand "just in case." the guy notorious for not having it all together as an artist that sets fire to most everything he touches, his bedroom is probably regularly a mess, yet he kept something like an inhaler safely where he could quickly retrieve it.

"he’s still ruffling your hair and going “hey, kiddo” when he sees you." this shit had me going crazy because he absolutely would call you "kiddo" and you'd frown at him playfully as you smooth your hair down.

"still carrying you around the apartment on his back," oh my god piggy back rides with this guy.. and he's so tall too

"still talking to you like his baby when you wanna paint and sculpt with him." the way he'd encourage you because you'd insist that you'll "mess something up" but he's so quick to derail that line of thinking.

"thumb running along your bottom lip" you should hear my heart rate rn

"blood running hot like it always does when he has the chance to be this for you." eye twitch.

"messy hair and his shirt rides up on his waist, shows a bit of stomach and your eyes find the skin with practiced familiarity. “c’mon, tell me what’s up.”" HELLO??? could literally hear his voice.

"cock stroking your walls, he’s soft and sweet and gentle and he’s murmuring, “feel good? dad takin’ care of you?”" my dick is hard jupie. its hard aching and leaking, typing one handed right now. the way his voice would murmur this right in your ear, send those shivers down your spine. its almost like hes embracing the nickname in this context because you taught him how to, asking "dad takin' care of you?" for your sake originally, but its rubbed off on him. now he knows thats his fuckin name. he looks into your eyes when he says it.

and when he buries his face, murmuring all kinds of dirty secrets, you nod with your cheek to his, all desperate and quiet because he doesnt live here alone so you've gotta keep it down. "uh-huh, uh-huh," you tell him mindlessly

"you reach up for his face, eyes bleary and heavy. “dad,” is all you can whine, and he leans into your touch, all kind eyes and a warm smile and he’s nodding, urging you to focus on what he’s done to you, on what he’s doing to you." holy fucking shit. he has such a kind smile, almost pretty, making you feel so warm and safe while dad's pushing his long cock into you, curling his abdomen that pudges up from the motion. big hand under your ass to lift your hip into it, getting that angle just right. he lets you put your hands in his hair.

dad spencer shay….

dad. my beautiful caring dad.

i still haven’t worked out all the mechanics in my head as to why he’s into it, but he’s into it 🤷🏾‍♀️ it’s probably his inclination to nurture and care for those around him (see: carly and her friends) or whatever but it’s there!

he was doing dad stuff before the name was even introduced. nothing rlly changes when it is. he’s still ruffling your hair and going “hey, kiddo” when he sees you. still carrying you around the apartment on his back, still talking to you like his baby when you wanna paint and sculpt with him.

he’s still soft and caring when he’s looking down at you, thumb running along your bottom lip while you look up at him with that stupid little glint in your eyes. nothing changed, really, but a title.

“dad,” is what you call him, shifting where you sit on the edge of his bed, immature and needy and he’s crossing the room to tend to you.

“what?” he asks, blood running hot like it always does when he has the chance to be this for you. arms crossed, he lives up to the name, messy hair and his shirt rides up on his waist, shows a bit of stomach and your eyes find the skin with practiced familiarity. “c’mon, tell me what’s up.”

dad.

pressed up against you with his cock stroking your walls, he’s soft and sweet and gentle and he’s murmuring, “feel good? dad takin’ care of you?” his hands wander, pressing into your skin in different places but his eyes never leave your face, attentive and, obviously, dad-like.

you reach up for his face, eyes bleary and heavy. “dad,” is all you can whine, and he leans into your touch, all kind eyes and a warm smile and he’s nodding, urging you to focus on what he’s done to you, on what he’s doing to you.

in conclusion: spencer shay my dad i love u i miss u