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kissingmensbiceps · 2 days ago

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Dirty Sheets ch.1 . . . Forgot your keys?

୨୧ summary: You were raised to be a good girl. With a strict lifestyle, college was a way to escape your small town and enter the real world. Sadly enough that meant bills upon bills, making it hard to fend for your own. That’s where Satoru Gojo came into your life. Your roommate, splitting the bills each month. You didn’t question what he did for work, and he didn’t question you. Sneaking around, doing such lewd things to rack up the bills, and secretly getting off on each other in the process.

୨୧ pairing: pornstar!Gojo x pornstar!reader

୨୧ wc: 1.9k (about a 8 minute read)

୨୧ warnings: 18+, fem!reader, smut, college au, f!ingering, jerking off, friends (?) to lovers, slow burn (upcoming), mentions of religion.

୨୧ a/n: Hi pretty babies this was just a little something that had been in my head for a while. I wanna turn it into a series but I’m not sure yet. Anyways happy reading :)

The door of your room was locked shut with extra care and serenity to block out any noise of the lewd, dirty acts going on behind. It was 9:00 pm, your roommate out of the house at some underground emo rock show—you didn’t really listen where Gojo said he was going, nor did you care. Instead, your mind was occupied and booked with the work you had to get done by the time he got home. Let’s just say it involved props, set up, and one hell of a pornographic moan to accomplish it.

Your laptop was propped up on your plush mattress, which was covered in fuzzy blankets—some of which Gojo had bought you last year for Christmas before things got rough between the two of you. It was sinful, to be making such content just to pay your half of the rent each month, doing it on the covers that he had bought you. No one else to see. Yet they were right under you in almost every video you made.

It was good money, though, and along side with your job as a bartender, money added up quick; pockets were heavy, your belly was full, and you had a little extra on yourself to do whatever.

And that usually consisted of going to the nearest sex shop in town and buying more things for your videos. Where you would store them? That was a problem for when you got home.

Clicking the big red “record” button on the screen, you get into position. You always got countless messages from men, mostly older, and even the occasional woman, and you who’d do whatever they asked. They sent the money and you got to work.

It was your dirty little secret, something no one knew about, something that no one would ever know about. You were a good girl. Coming from a strict Christian household, the youngest in the family, not even mentioning being the only girl in your family. Overprotective brothers and a pastor as your father. Of course no one would know, they wouldn’t suspect their sweet, innocent baby girl to do such disgusting things.

You flutter your eyes in a doe like manor into the camera, your eyes big and round as you slowly stick out your pink, wet tongue. Taking your pointer and middle finger together, pressing the pads of them softly onto the wet surface before closing your mouth around them, keeping eye contact the entire time. You swirl your hot tongue around your digits before taking them out with a pop.

Finally looking away from the camera, your eyes trail down, leading to where your clothed pussy rested gently on the bed. There was a noticeable wet spot through the lace, which you had made by playing and teasing yourself beforehand.

The warm fairy lights that strung along your room created a angel-like glow across your body, which was expected to be covered up head to toe, according to the way you were raised. It angled off your creamy, soft skin that was pleasurable to the eyes who would get their nasty and salacious hands on this film.

A cheeky small smile appears on your lips, feeling your heart speed up just slightly as you look at the camera through your thick lashes. You take your slippery, spit coated fingers and bring them down to your panties, going achingly slow for the viewer.

Finally you pull them to the side, dipping them into your soaking folds, feeling yourself up softly as you tilt your head back. Soft hums and whimpers escape your lips which were drawn back into your teeth. One finger slips into your warm cunt, curling it in just the right way. Slowly moving it in a steady speed, you add the second finger, making your jaw go slack.

You speed up your movements, making sounds that are a bit exaggerated—but they have to be right? You gently begin to ride your fingers like they were a girthy cock, who’s cock? You don’t have an answer, just an imagination and years worth of browsing through twitter and other porn websites under your belt.

It’s not long before you cum all over your fingers with a moan loud enough that Gojo could definitely hear from inside his bedroom, but he’s not here right now, is he? Panting softly, your brain registers that you’re still recording. You look back into the lens, and see yourself on the screen: flushed, disheveled, eyes half lidded to the point of dozing off, and fingers still halfway shoved in your spongy walls.

You pull them out, lick them clean like a cat licks her paws, before smiling softly once more at the camera. Saying a final message, you end the video and collapse onto your welcoming bed, cunt still sticky with your release.

You stare at the ceiling feeling a sense of guilt. Gods watching you. Is all that rang through your head, over and over like a bad headache that just wouldn’t go the fuck away. Shouldn’t swear either, sweetie, you know the rules in this house.

Your thoughts disperse from your clouded mind when your phone dings from beside you.

| | 9:24 P.M Gojo: omw home. open the door 4 me, lost my keys.

You sigh as you read his unwelcome message, this dudes always loosing his fucking keys. It was getting annoying at this point. At least you had a decent excuse to be a bit bitchy tonight.

| | 9:25 P.M You: okay.

You walk to the door with heavy footsteps, swinging it open to find a slightly tipsy Gojo with a bored expression on his dumb hot face. With a small huff you open it wider as he ducks down to walk through.

“Sure took ya long enough to answer the door.” He mutters, doesn’t bother to take his shoes off which you often pester him about, and continues his journey through the apartment.

“And maybe you shouldn’t have forgotten your keys-“

“—Lost actually.”

You glare at him which makes him crack an amused smile. “Right, my apologies for using the wrong terminology for your key predicament.”

He only smirks which makes you want to either punch it right off his gorgeous mouth or kiss it, haven’t made up your mind about that one yet. It was a daily battle between your annoyance of Satoru Gojo, or complete and utter desire.

“You’re in quite the mood this evening,” He comments as he sets down a brown paper bag on the kitchen island. “Almost makes me feel bad for ya.” He breaks open the staple sealed bag with a rip. “That was a joke by the way.”

“Haha, your like, just so funny! The funniest actually.” He rolls his eyes at your sarcastic comment which makes you smirk this time around as you sit on the other side of the island.

“Your ass must be pretty jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth.” He quips which makes you scoff. He pulls out the take out from the paper back and onto the counter, the smell of Chinese food making your mouth water.

“Oooh ouch that one hurt.” You respond to his joke as you secretly sniff out the food. All you wanted was a good meal after a tiring orgasam, but your stubborn attitude refuses to ask. “And for future reference, don’t make jokes involving my ass.”

“Why, ya a prude or somethin’?” Gojo turns around to grab a pair of chopsticks from a drawer.

“No. Gonna let me have a taste?” You nod your head to the box of lo mein that he had set on the counter.

He turns around. “Then why can’t I make jokes about your ass?” He stuffs the chopsticks into the box as he leans against the counter, completely ignoring your request.

“Because, Gojo, my ass is too good for you to be talked about.” You roll your eyes. “And it’s disgusting for you to even want to.”

“Your acting like a pruuude.” He says in a sing song voice, which was annoyingly good and pleasing to the ears. Gojo had a love for music, at least that’s your impression. By the multiple rock band t-shirts he owns and the underground band concerts he attends with his friends, it’s pretty easy to tell.

You only scoff and roll your eyes, something you did so often that it was a miracle that they didn’t get stuck that way. Pushing yourself off the counter you grab a bottle of water from the fridge “Goodnight, loser.”

“Night, princess.” You could hear the smug tone in his voice and mouth full of noodles, which makes you want to rip his vocal cords out but then you wouldn’t be able to hear the pretty noises he made late at night, whether that be his annoyingly good singing skills, or the ones he made while using his left hand.

“And find your fucking keys,” You call back. “Next time I ain’t letting you in.”

Gojo watched as you went to your room, fluffy pajamas pants making you look oh so soft and cuddly, making a perfect mental image to get off later. But he had business to take care of.

It’s not like he’d tell anyone (who wasn’t his closet friends because he enjoyed to brag) because then he’d get the label of “man whore”. And sadly as cool as it was in the men’s locker room to ramble on and on about the latest girl you had fucked, it wasn’t something you went and told other women.

That was one of the only things Gojo was good at besides making a girl have an actual pleasurable orgsam. It was who and when to tell. No girl willingly wants to have sex with a slut. Too many risks, physically and of course mentally. Man sluts never stay.

So instead of going out every night and finding some random hot chick to plant his seed and go along on his merry way, he decided to stay in and make content. Easy money, he just had to touch his cock (which he did multiple times anyway) make a few videos emphasizing his voice to either be more dominant or submissive and boom. Rent money is perfectly handled. Rest of the savings going to drinks at the clubs or parties he went to with Geto or Nanami when they could get him out the house.

He’d spoil himself by indulging on other people’s videos and smutty photos as well. He’d spend his sleepless nights searching the web for a new pretty baby to watch get herself off, picturing himself in bed with her, helping the poor thing out.

And of course Gojo never told you about his job. He wasn’t the fondest of you, and you weren’t the biggest fan of him either, but he didn’t want to destroy the innocence he thought you had.

But you both continued to make your content, racking up enough bills to move out of this shitty off-campus apartment but you never did. For what reason? You both liked the company. You liked the thought of sneaking around each other, secretly getting off on each other’s sacred body parts that were too private to actually explore.

You secretly got off to his desperate huffs of air and whiny breaths through the thin walls, cold fingers tracing your clit as you imagine that they were his.

Unbeknownst to you, he’d watch the faceless bodies on his own laptop, picturing your face on the heavenly body as he jerked off. Slowly moving his hand up and down his shaft, eyes shut tight as if they were glued to stay that way.His brain going into the dark depths that were only brought to the surface when he’d see you. His precious little roommate that just seemed so incredibly sweet, stepping into heaven and seeing her as God’s favorite angel.

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nmakii · 2 days ago

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must be love

— you find sae’s phone opened, and you decide to snoop.

or; sae gets exposed for being a fake idgafer. this is too sappy. 2.7k words, this is my longest fic in my whole life… what life feels like as a girl who loves too much core

tags: @narcjsistx

— for rhi. love ya, partner.

‘she seems really eager to please,

but she has quite the backbone.’

you huff out in frustration. “ah!! ugh…” you scowl. sae raises his eyebrow. “my groupmate never started on her share of the work… ugh, now i have to cram it..!” you explain your sudden outburst. sae scoffs. “then tell your teacher or something. it’s not like i can do anything about it, im not your teacher.” he, quite obviously, points out. “wh… ugh, i’m gonna… i just— needed to let out my anger.” you groan, face planting and screaming into your textbook. and he hums in response. although he didn’t show it on his face, your outburst was quite out of character for the person he had grown to know. it was… weird, to say the least. and it had caused him to make a mental note not to anger you.

‘her generosity knows no bounds.’

“sae, this is for you. merry christmas!” you hand him a wrapped box. “hm..? i don’t take christmas gifts.” he bluntly states. “i haven’t gotten any gifts since i was 10 years old.” you scoff to yourself. “maybe that’s why you’ve always got that stick in your ass.” you tease. “excuse me?” he glares daggers at you. “aaaanyway! open it!” you shove the box into his hands. he looks at the box, and then at you, and he decides to open it. “new cleats.” he acknowledges. yes, mhm. these were indeed cleats..! “i didn’t need these, i was going to buy them myself.” he states.

“i know, you could probably buy them yourself. but, i thought i’d save you the hassle, y’know?” how thoughtful of you. he eyes the cleats up and down; it’s an expensive brand, but it’s worth the price for the quality. “…thanks.” he says, at last. he didn’t expect a gift from you, he doesn’t have one prepared for you. he’ll make sure to buy you something you’ll love later. “oh! hold on, i wanted to give you some other things ♪~” you fish a keychain and envelope out of your bag and hand it to him.

“…cinnamoroll..?” he questions. “it’s cute right? i thought you’d like it.” what an odd way of thinking… never once has he mentioned anything about cinnamoroll. but then again, it is pretty cute. “…well, i won’t say i hate it. thank you.” he thanks you as he eyes the envelope. “ah, don’t read it in front of me..! i got a bit sappy, it’s pretty. embarrassing…” you awkwardly laugh. “ah, got it.”

later that day, he opened the envelope. there was a letter; it had cute doodles all over. and, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel your affection radiating off the letter. it was… really sweet.

‘what a beautiful human being she is.’

itoshi sae is what you like to call a shy lover, if you were to put it kindly.

you know for a fact that he loves you, he just isn’t good at verbally expressing it. words of affection are too sappy for him. he prefers to show it through the thoughtfulness of his gifts, and the longing touches of his hands, which seem to never leave your’s.

you know he loves you. but, you can’t help but wish for him to say it more often.

it wasn’t many nights lately that the two of you would have a date night. with sae’s rigorous training schedule and endless interviews, the only thing he wants to do at night is to fall asleep beside you.

however, today was the end of the season. meaning, sae would have much more free-time for you.

with sae’s last game for the year completed in 0-4, the first thing he had to do was call you. even though you weren’t far away at all, sitting in the VIP lounge with the relatives and girlfriends of sae’s teammates.

“s/o?” he calls your attention. “mhm? congratulations on your win, babe! i knew you’d win.” you congratulate him. “they could barely keep the ball when they had it. is it really an achievement for me to have won this match?” he says, almost sassily. “pssh— alright. i get it, mr. ‘tepid.’.” you tease.

“don’t call me that.” he huffs. “stay where you are. i’ll go to you.” he commands. you hum in acknowledgment, and he hangs up.

he doesn’t keep you waiting too long before showing up. “there you are…” he sighs in relief, kissing you as his hands automatically find themselves on your body— one tangled in your hair, and the other resting on the curve of your spine.

once he finds the will in himself to finally pull away, he’s breathless.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he holds himself back, his fingers flowing through your hair. “…get ready for our date later tonight, yeah? formal wear.”

you nod, and his lips curl upward. “i’ll see you later.”

you decided to go all out, pull all the brakes. and when sae picks you up in his car, he can’t help thinking that you look like a dream. ‘are you sure you aren’t a model?’ he muses to himself. his heart twists, and the fat of his cheeks redden with affection. your hair flows like silk, and that glimmer in your eyes was once a star, handpicked from the skies, he’s sure of it.

everything about you encourages him to keep staring, but he manages to get ahold of himself. “…you…look beautiful.” is the only thing he can get himself to say. but, beautiful doesn’t seem to encapsulate it, not at all. it’s not even close. beautiful is only a fraction of what he thinks. “heh, you think so?” you ask. “yeah; beautiful.” he assures. “let’s go.” he says, barely turning his attention away from you as he turns to the road.

the drive to the restaurant is quiet, but sae’s mind is screaming at him. his eyes can’t stop moving back to take sneaky glances of you. he drinks up your beauty like a serpent, and he still hasn’t had his fill.

“…we’re here.” he pulls the shift into its’ brake. he gets out, and hands his keys to the valet boy— his words are inaudible through the car door, but he quickly finishes his conversation and moves to open your car door.

you take your first step out, and his hand immediately moves to help you out. god, you might be even prettier under the gleam of moonlight, shining like the pearl of the planet.

his arm moves and snakes around your waist, guiding you into the restaurant under the flash of paparazzi cameras. he grimaces at the loud, pitchy voices of news interviewers, begging for a comment; anything for a headline quote.

the gentle touch of his fingers tighten, as he silently encourages you to walk faster, and lose the crowd. the two of you hurry up, and dash into the restaurant, where you’re greeted with a dim candlelight, mahogany walls, and the rhythmic trumpet of jazz.

“welcome, mr. itoshi.” the receptionist greets. “your table for two is right this way.” she quickly guides the two of you into a secluded part of the restaurant, just like he’s always done as to make sure neither of you are spotted and harassed in public.

lamps hang on the walls, creating a romantic atmosphere. and the curved dark-brown leather booth couch perfectly complements the dark oak roundtable.

the date isn’t too different from the others. the two of you chat about anything that comes to mind. but, it’s actually more like it’s just you chattering on, and sae listening as he admires that excited grin on your face.

on the outside looking in, it’s obvious how he has heart eyes when he stares at you. he’s in a trance as he listens to the rich honeying sweetness of your voice; his finger traces the lines on the roundtable, wishing that it’d be the crinkles of your smile he’s tracing when he blinks and opens his eyes again.

his trance is broken though, when his phone rings. damn it, he forgot to put his phone on do not disturb… “something wrong?” you ask sae, and he takes his phone out of his pocket. “not sure. there shouldn’t be a problem, i cancelled everything for tonight. ugh… just a second, amor…” he remorsefully takes your hand in his as a silent gesture of apology. he took too long to pick up the phone, it already went out…

he opened his call app, and saw that it was from his publicist, dabadie. he groaned before picking up.

“sae! you didn’t mention that you’d be going out on a date today, your paparazzi shot is already all over social medias..!” he worriedly stammers. “i didn’t? well, whatever… it’s just a date photo anyway.” sae shrugs, speaking quietly to ensure that you don’t hear. “right— but… you know the internet… they might criticize you, and say that she’s distracting you from soccer…”

sae is about to correct him— he’s about to say that you aren’t distracting him from his career, but he holds back once he remembers that you’re right beside him, eagerly waiting for his attention to be back on you.

“i… have to speak to you for a second, im already outside the restaurant… the paparazzi didn’t censor out the location well enough either… so, the agency’s security car will follow you two home…” he adds on. sae sighs. “i have to speak to you too. i’ll meet you outside.” he hangs up. he huffs in exasperation and shallowly drops his phone, making it clatter on the table; the screen is left open on his call record. “im sorry, amor… i have to quickly take care of something, i’ll be back soon, i promise.” he kisses your hand.

“hmph, don’t worry. it’s dabadie, right? he’s always worried about something…” you laugh. of course you’d be understanding about it. you always understood. “heh, that he is.” he sasses before leaving the table.

…and you can’t help but notice that his phone is still open.

his phone is practically yelling at you, “check out what’s on me, s/o! check it out right now!”, and you simply can’t resist the temptation to!

first, you simply scroll around at his call record; nothing too interesting, it’s filled with calls from dabadie, and you. as well as occasional calls from his mom. how tepid, as sae would put it. you exit the app, and find his home screen wallpaper to be a picture he took of you; you’re looking out into the distance, the large castle of sleeping beauty in the background.

you smile to yourself at that cute photo, and move to his photos; it’s filled with photos of you, and almost none of him— not unless you were beside him. you scroll down to check out his older photos; they’re childhood pictures, only a few of them are with rin included.

…

…anyways, ‘what is in sae itoshi’s notes app?’, you ponder. you open his notes app.

‘things i want to eat: 1. omelette, 2. paella, 3. pesto pasta’

‘onitsuka tiger mexico - kill bill/grey, new balance 2002r - grey, asics gel NYC - oyster grey’

‘laundry’

‘i love you’

you laugh at the randomness of his notes, quickly scrolling through them. it’s true when they say that a boy’s notes is truly random.

but that last note catches your eye. it’s a pretty odd note that just says ‘i love you’ with no additional text. and, it makes you wonder.

sae’s an organized person, more or less. so, his notes must be filed too. and, you’re correct. there are three files; ‘lists’, ‘important documents’, and a file with your initial as its’ name.

the other two don’t seem as interesting, nor seem as mysterious. so, you click on the mysterious file.

and, the file is filled with everything about you; he’s written down your birthday (including the time…), your family members’ names, foods you like to eat when you aren’t feeling well, shows that you like to watch… everything.

and, there’s a note that catches your eye. it’s a cut-off sentence, since it was too long. you decide to feed your curiosity and click on the note.

‘she talks to everyone, even the people she doesn’t like.

it takes a lot to piss her off.

she’s always kind to me, after all.

she seems really eager to please, but she has quite the backbone.

she works really hard, but i don’t think many see it.

her generosity knows no bounds, and she always knows what kind of joke to make.

i didn’t think it was possible for a soul to be so beautiful.

nor, that someone like i would meet a soul like her’s.

but, im grateful to the stars above that i met her.

someone as kind as her deserves to receive all the love she gives.

i don’t think she knows how loved she really is though.

what a beautiful human being she is.

there simply isn’t enough words to describe the way her dimples crinkle when she’s happy.

the day she was conceived, the gods must’ve tenderly sculpted her heart out of ivory and gold.

the way she enamors everyone in the room simply by walking inside, and the way her personality shines in her rushed, yet sweet handwriting.

one day, i hope she’ll finally be perpetually happy.

so, that she can always shine that enchanting smile of her’s.

she deserves all of it.’

was this a poem..? it didn’t seem like it, it didn’t rhyme, and the stanzas didn’t have equal amounts of lines… but, the way he worded it out almost made it seem like he was a poet.

you don’t… even know what to think at such a romantic confession. it’s certainly much more than sae has ever verbally said to you. but, the fact that he had written this with you in mind makes your heart pound like crazy.

you’ve always known that sae loves you, but seeing his private thoughts all written out for you to read was… overwhelming.

“going through my texts, amor? i’m not texting any other woman besides you.” sae nonchalantly jokes. shit— time went quicker than you’d thought. “ah, nn… just got a bit curious, babe…” you hum. “what were you looking at..?” he asks, and his eyes widen the moment he sees what you were reading. out of all the things on his phone, that was the last thing he wanted you reading.

he embarrassedly closes his phone. “so… what was all that writing about..? were you trying to be a poet?” you jokingly ask; you knew that sae wasn’t mad, per say… he was probably just embarrassed. “n..no… it was, ah…” he clears his throat. “it was just… something i typed out when i realized i had many observations about you that i needed to write down. i just got sidetracked while i was typing.” he explains.

you smile, your entire body feeling like you’re on fire. the love you feel for sae itoshi feels like too much to contain in your heart. “it was really sweet, sae…” you assure him. for some reason, you have the odd incentive to just… cry right now. you love him so much.

“i know. but, it’s also too sappy.” he huffs. “aw, don’t be so shy… i know you’re just a huge softie under that tough surface…” you tease, moving closer to cuddle up to his side. “im not soft. i just love you, okay?” he groans. “don’t make me say embarrassing things.”

your smile widens, making him look at you with that lovesick look in his eyes. “aww… well, i guess i know how much you love me now anyway, so that’s good enough..!” you mentally fist pump at this small victory.

the atmosphere suddenly feels light again as you start to chatter again, teasing him slightly before going back to what you were speaking about before he had left. and still, sae’s looking at you like you’re the world cup trophy, like you’re all he’s dreamed of.

and sae thinks…

‘…you’ll know how sappy i can get when it’s our wedding day.’

but he should save that for another 5 years, or so.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk fluff #blue lock sae #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk sae #sae itoshi x y/n #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #blue lock sae itoshi #sae itoshi imagines #itoshi sae imagines

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crazy-pages · 20 hours ago

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Go read any other shooter manifesto. They are appalling and horrifying reads by and large, but crucially look nothing like this. Because people who commit political killings and then write manifestos explaining why, expecting to be dead or facing life in prison, typically want you to really understand them. They go into detail (gods those things are sometimes a hundred fucking pages long), they have personal history, they describe their methodology and have inciting calls to action for others to do the same. Hell that last one is basically the whole reason shooters write manifestos.

This? Has none of that. There's literally no substance to it other than a supposed confession and desire to save the cops trouble ... and if that's what he wanted he would have just turned himself in and confessed. Which Luigi has not done. The whole thing is basically just, nothing to see here, no suggestions for anyone following in his footsteps, vague commentary about the rich being bad, and the final comment is literally a self-isolating statement which indicates he is the only person feeling this extremely about it, which is not something political shooters ever fucking believe. The almost universally think they are the first vanguard in an overwhelming movement to follow them.

Even if Luigi is the killer and it's proven beyond a shadow of a doubt, I'll probably still believe that this manifesto specifically was planted. This is some grade A nonsense.

To everybody claiming that luigi mangione really is the guy.

This is the manifesto the cops say they found

“To the Feds, I'll keep this short, because I do respect what you do for our country. To save you a lengthy investigation, I state plainly that I wasn't working with anyone. This was fairly trivial: some elementary social engineering, basic CAD, a lot of patience. The spiral notebook, if present, has some straggling notes and To Do lists that illuminate the gist of it. My tech is pretty locked down because I work in engineering so probably not much info there. I do apologize for any strife of traumas but it had to be done. Frankly, these parasites simply had it coming. A reminder: the US has the #1 most expensive healthcare system in the world, yet we rank roughly #42 in life expectancy. United is the [indecipherable] largest company in the US by market cap, behind only Apple, Google, Walmart. It has grown and grown, but as our life expectancy? No the reality is, these [indecipherable] have simply gotten too powerful, and they continue to abuse our country for immense profit because the American public has allwed them to get away with it. Obviously the problem is more complex, but I do not have space, and frankly I do not pretend to be the most qualified person to lay out the full argument. But many have illuminated the corruption and greed (e.g.: Rosenthal, Moore), decades ago and the problems simply remain. It is not an issue of awareness at this point, but clearly power games at play. Evidently I am the first to face it with such brutal honesty.”

like "ohh yeah we got our guy, he was holding the murder weapon, a manifesto that says "Hey feds! I did that crime and did it with this gun!! this is because the US has the most expensive healthcare but we don't even live as long as some other countries? and its the fault of the american public who I hate!" anne 10 grand! is obvious that this is our guy, and he's just a low down criminal who hates your! the american public"

also if they did find him with that why would he respond to their arrest with immediate legal defense rather than dignified resignation like the manifesto implies.

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chris-prank · 14 hours ago

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A desperate yandere in your area

Chapter 3 : A new pet

Sub pathetic yandere x GN reader

Previous chapter

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

CW: NSFW, praise kink, teasing, porn with plot, petplay, obsessive behaviour, yandere, mention of stalking, giving head/eating out, dom reader, receiving reader, bottoming reader and use of protection

(Even if the reader is bottoming at some point I made it vague enough so you can imagine which whole is being used.)

Word count: Over 3K

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

As stupid as it was, you didn’t call the police.

There you were, sitting in front of your phone, debating if you were making the right choice or not. You finally took it and called the coffee shop, cutely named “Brioche d'Or”. You jumped in your seat when a cheery voice answered.

“You have called Brioche d’Or! I’m Pierre, how can I help you today?”

“Can I speak to Jacce…please?”

“Yes absolutely, could I get your name?”

You told the employee your name and heard shuffling on the other end of the line, before you could faintly hear him say “You’re more popular than I thought!” You had to suppress a chuckle, because by that time, Jacce had taken the phone from Pierre.

“H-hey, you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, at what time could you come to my place today?”

Silence fell on the other line, except for his heavy breathing. Even if you weren’t in front of him, it's like you could feel the warmth of his breath through the handset.

“Is 3 pm alright?” his voice sounded choked, as if he had runned out of air.

You hummed in response and swiftly told him goodbye, hanging up before he could answer. Your face was burning hot and your heart was hammering in your chest. You looked at the time. You had five hours until he arrived.

***

The moment you heard knocking on the door you took a deep breath. The man standing at your doorstep was towering over you with the most nervous, but strangely excited, expression on his face. You didn't even give him the chance to open his mouth as you pulled him inside. When the front door was shut close, Jacce leaned in on you– expecting you to kiss him. You awkwardly turned your head to the side while pressing your hands on his chest to prevent him from getting closer. He tilted his head, confused, but you could see some arousal in them, surely due to your touch.

“Let's go to the living room.” You whispered, feeling like your lungs were crushed by the proximity.

As you sat down on the couch, Jacce remained standing, giving you quick glances as if he was waiting for you to say something.

“You can sit, you know.”

To your surprise, he sat on the ground instead of taking a place beside you or in any other chair available. You could feel your lower half warm up instantly at his actions. You scolded yourself mentally for being turned on by a simple action, but it didn’t prevent you from imagining the most blasphemous scenarios. You cough the thoughts away before opening your mouth again.

“Ok so, I thought about you becoming my… you know…”

It was out of the question for you to say “pet” or “servant”, this whole situation was already lewd enough with him kneeled down before you. Luckily Jacce nodded without saying the quiet part out loud.

“I guess it was pretty obvious since I invited you here… " You laughed awkwardly as you felt the heat rise up to your face.

In the meanwhile, Jacce kept staring up at you with this submissive look, accentuated by his down turned eyes. He was really making it hard for you to think straight. It was almost like his body language was screaming at you to kiss him already.

"Does that mean I can… live with you from now on?" He asked, tilting his head.

You froze at the question. Even if this guy had clearly shown that he wished to be yours, you didn’t realize it meant living together as well. You blamed your touch depraved self for not thinking any of this through.

"Oh em… I didn’t think about that part… Don’t you have an apartment or something?”

“I have a house actually, but it’s ok… I want to be with you.”

You look at him stunned, how could he talk about leaving his house behind like it was nothing!? Especially in this economy! Maybe he was hoping for you to move in with him one day, but you had other things to worry about for now.

“I guess you could live here if you promise to do what I say."

Jacce nodded with clear eagerness, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate as he spoke again. “I p-promise! I’ll do anything just to stay by your side. "

As threatening as that last part sounded, you felt honored that someone would go that far just for you. You also mentally winced, you had no time to unpack all the childhood trauma that could have led you to think this way.

“So no more stalking if I tell you to?”

He seemed to ponder at first, but ultimately agreed, “I won’t need to anyway since I am yours now, but y-yay I’ll stop.”

“And no more secretly touching yourself while watching me?”

He shook his head up and down quickly. You could feel the lust and impatience taking control of him the more time he was spending in your presence, his entire face getting flustered by the second. You wanted the same thing then him at that moment, but it was crucial to establish rules and you had one more in mind.

"Before settling this, I need to make something very clear. I know you want to pleasure me and all, but I don’t want you to force yourself when you’re not in the mood. "

"But—"

"Ah ah. No but, If I’m not one hundred percent sure you want it to, we won’t do anything. No arguing with that. Say that you will always be honest."

Despite Jacce being visibly shocked, not understanding why you wouldn’t want to use him without his input, a part of him was touched. If that wasn't proof of your love for him, he didn’t know what else could prove it.

“I will… always be honest about my mood…” He said slowly, almost like a child being forced to admit a fault they committed.

“Good and now that’s cleared, do you want to continue where we left off last—.”

“YES!”

You were caught off guard by the sudden rise of his voice, but you were more surprised by his lack of action. You expected Jacce to jump on you like a dog in heat, but no, instead he was twitching his hips forward into the air with his tongue slightly sticking out. He had been a well behaved boy ever since he got here now that you think about it. He certainly deserved a treat.

You started unzipping your pants as the kneeled man watched your every move, his body trembling in anticipation. You took your pants off, followed by your underwear, grinning at the little whimper he let out at the sight of your private parts. You tapped your thighs, and the man immediately crawled to settle between your legs, licking his lips. You couldn’t help but grin at the lewd display.

"Pleaseee can I lick?" He whined as his gaze was still fixated on your arousal.

A soft yes escaped your mouth, as you prepared yourself mentally. He leaned forward and took your core into his mouth, slowly swirling his tongue around while his hands caressed your thighs.

“Good boy.” You cooed.

Jacce moaned and continued to move his head eagerly, covering every bit with saliva. He felt a wave of ecstasy wash over him as he tasted you on his tongue. His free hand reached down to pull his cock out of his pants, making it stand tall against his clothes stomach. The second he was done, Jacce’s hands went to cup your thighs again, gripping the soft flesh possessively. He was using his mouth like a pro, making you wonder if he had done this before or if he just… practiced with toys.

After a while of him servicing you like an obedient little puppy, you couldn’t hold back the burning desire residing in your guts anymore.

It was too much. He was too much.

So you placed your hands behind his head, slowly taking a fist full of his hair. The soft gesture made Jacce moan between your legs, thinking you were petting him as a result of his devotion. If only he knew that it was hiding a less innocent intention.

"Jacce I really need to… "

He seemed to finally understand what you were trying to do since his grip on you disappeared and he stopped moving his head. Jacce stared up at you through his eyelashes, waiting for you to sink into your desires. You leisurely started to move your hips so as not to startle him, but quickly picked up the pace. The man under you kept making loud sounds of pleasure despite your roughness. The vibration on your sensitive skin stimulated your arousal even more. Even with the tears forming in the corner of his eyes, Jacce’s cock couldn’t stop leaking. If his mouth wasn’t occupied right now, he would have gone on and on about how much he loved you.

While lost in the overwhelming sensations, your mind was suddenly reminded to check on the guy choking under you. You swiftly looked down with your eyelids halfway closed. If anything, his rolled back eyes and the fact that he was still trying to touch you in other ways were good indicators that he was enjoying this as much as you were. In spite of his visible enthusiasm, you pulled away to let him breathe, which made him whine in disappointment. Now that his head was out of the way, you were also able to see his swollen dick pulsing like crazy, precum oozing out of it to complete the look. Knowing he could get this hard by simply servicing you was making him even more attractive.

"Look at you… not touching yourself because I didn’t allow you too. " You answer between shortness of breath, “I think you deserve to… to feel good with me now.”

***

You lowered yourself until the tip of his glans brushed against your hole. You wrapped your fingers at the base of his cock and patted it against your entrance. Jacce winced at the contact, or in better terms, the painful lack of it.

“Please please please, let… let me be inside. Pleaseee.” He begged, trying his hardest to keep his hips down.

“You need to be patient, Jacce.” You reminded him while ignoring his pleas.

You weren’t much better to be honest. The thought of fucking him stupid clouded your mind since that time you gave him a hand job. Your self control was all for show since you didn’t want to look like a desperate pervert in front of him. That was his job.

After some more teasing, you finally sunk down onto his dick, gritting your teeth as it stretched you out. The both of you let out moans at the pleasurable sensation. The feeling of his hard cock inside you was already overwhelming all your senses.

“Does it Ngh– hurt? Do you w-want… to stop?”

Despite his worried tone, his facial expression and heavy breathing gave away how blissed out he was. He also kept making small whines ever since his cock was surrounded by your warmth, not to mention that his cock also pulsated non stop against your walls.

“I’m ok. You're just… thick.” You answered vaguely, too embarrassed to admit how he was stuffing you up perfectly.

Pride overtook him, knowing that his dick would definitely grace all of your sensitive spots. That’s what he was made for, to be used by you until he breaks and to be an obedient pet that feels fulfilled by making you happy.

Only when you felt your insides adjusted to his shape did you raise your hips slowly, before dropping yourself with all your weight. You kept that pace, all the while admiring his face twist in pleasure.

“I’m yours!" He cried out instinctively in a quivering voice, "a-all yours!"

To keep yourself bouncing rhythmically, one of your hands went to his shoulder. You cupped his face with the other, gently caressing his cheek to compensate how ruthless you were with his cock. Jacce looked at you through his messy hair and fuck he had the most dazed expression. He couldn’t help but whimper loudly and nuzzle his head into your touch. You expected him to say something again as he opened his mouth, but instead he started sucking on your thumb as he kept up your gaze.

“Such a good puppy for me.” You praised while bouncing faster.

The mess under you moaned and gasped as new waves of pleasure hit his nervous system. The sound of your ass hitting the flesh of his thigh became louder from your swift movements, almost overshadowing the cute sounds Jacce couldn’t keep to himself. He had stopped sucking your finger, to your disappointment, but it looked like he was actually trying to say something now. You leaned closer, making sure to let your warm breath graze his skin.

“Come on, I know you can use your words.”

The mess under you made multiple whines in response. You were so cruel to force him to speak like a proper human being when his brain was clearly far too gone to create any coherent sentences. You glanced down and saw how hard he was clenching his hands, both resting onto the soft material of the sofa. So you slowed down a bit, allowing him to speak his mind. Jacce swallowed the drool that had accumulated in his mouth, before answering as best as he could.

“If you go Mngh— this fa-fast, I won’t… Ah ah… be able to keep it in like a good bo— Unff.” His breath had drastically quickened, confirming his complaints.

“So sensitive.” You teased, while sneaking a hand under his shirt to go play with his nipples.

“Aargh— mmff!” Jacce leaned up to trap you in a strong embrace, preventing you from stimulating him further, “w-would be too m-much.” He sobbed into the fabric of your clothes.

Taking pity on him, and totally not turned on even more by his behavior, you wiggled your hand out of between your chests and cupped the back of his head. Jacce's body and grip eased up as the gentle tingle of your touch took its effects on him.

“Thank’you…” He muttered in that whiny tone that made you go crazy.

“Now, how about I let you choose the rhythm?” You grin mischievously, knowing the kind of reaction it would get out of him. Just as you expected, Jacce’s eyes opened wide and you could see a glint of excitement in them.

“A-are you sure? I… I really can?”

You hummed in response while guiding one of his hands to your waist. To feel his trembling touch against your exposed skin made your stomach twist in that familiar urge to turn him into a crying mess. But no. You wanted his first time with you to be more relaxed. The humiliation of making him cum prematurely would come later, if he’s on board with it, which you're pretty sure he would.

Meanwhile, your puppy didn’t need more for his fingers to dig into your flesh and his hips to tentatively roll up to meet with your pelvis. Jacce’s eyes closed from the spark of pleasure, but only for him to force them open so he could admire your complexion. He had spent enough time imagining your face alone in his room, and now that he had the real deal in front of him he was going to enjoy every second of it.

“Lov’you… M-mine…ngh—” He muttered in a whiny voice, only to repeat mine over and over again, louder each time.

You couldn’t tell if it was a statement on his part or if he was looking for your approval. Either way you found the contrast between his possessive words and his pathetic attitude endearing. He could say that as much as he wanted, but you both knew that, at the end of the day, he was more yours than anything else.

Jacce started grinding up on your ass desperately, as if you were a magnet he couldn’t pull away from. His brain couldn’t think of anything else than the ecstasy coursing through his body every time his shaft was engulfed inside you once more. For someone who wanted you to go slow in the fear of cumming prematurely, he was going strangely fast now. Both of your hands grasped at his shoulder as not to go flying off because of the unfaltering movements of his hips. It would undeniably leave marks, especially with how your fingernails were pressed into his skin, not that he minded. It would be concrete proof that he was yours and that this wasn’t just a hyper-realistic wet dream.

Jacce’s body shuddered uncontrollably as he tried his best to not cum right then and there. He needed to be a good boy for you. Meaning he needed your permission to cum, especially since it would be his first time with you. But more importantly, he needed you to climax first. To think he didn’t get the chance to taste it on his tongue earlier made him pout for a second. He was more than grateful that you wanted him to feel good too, but still, your pleasure was his priority!

“I-I need ngff… your c-cum Ah ah— p-please cum with me!”

Lucky for him, you were also close to your breaking point, the feeling in your guts ready to explode into a million pieces.

“Yes puppy, l-let’s cum together.” You whisper back with a breathless voice.

One of your hands left it’s post to touch yourself down there, as best as you could anyway considering the way you were bouncing up and down on his cock. Your insides instantly tightened around him as sensation, pulling new sounds out of him. It was just the right push to tension to finally let go.

Your body froze, and you had him in a vice grip, his dick and his shoulder alike. With your head thrown back, a shrill moan escaped your lips. This was the only signal Jacce needed to finish as well, his hips snapping back in short but swift motions. He emptied every last drop of his cum inside the rubber condom. His last moan, if it could even be qualified as such, was mixed with the start of your name, but ended with a pathetic whine.

As Jacce came back to his senses, he could feel an uncontrollable smile forming on his lips. It was the first time you came because of him and he was feeling euphoric. Now that he got a taste of being the source of your guttural desires, there was no way he would ever leave you. He could feel his heart beating drum in his ears as his infatuation for you grew exponentially. He placed lazy kisses on your collar, his way of hiding his manic grin, and mumbled words of love.

The wet sensation on your skin grounded you back to reality as you leaned into him. Never in your life you thought you could have the opportunity to make a grown man submit to you like this and, despite the unorthodox circumstances that brought you together, you were truly satisfied. As the aftershock of tiredness hit you, Jacce nuzzled his head into your neck, like a dog wanting to be petted for doing a trick right.

“I’m… really yours now?” He said in a hush tone. You had noticed that every time he was in a more submissive headspace, his voice would have a whiny quality to it. Not to the length of being annoying, but just enough to sound cuter than his usual raspy voice.

You lifted your hand to rub his back in circles.

“Yes.”

Jacce moaned happily in response, leaning his heavy self more onto you.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

So so sorry for the late update! I hope it was worth the long wait!

Link for the chapter on Ao3

Also no drawing for this chapter! 😔 Maybe I’ll post a drawing based on something that happen in this chapter later on

#yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere male #yandere oc #tw yandere #sub!yandere #sub yandere #gn reader #x gn reader #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #My oc-Jacce #dom reader #pathetic yandere #male yandere #desperate yandere #yandere x you #my art

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dreamerimpossible · 2 days ago

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Slasher Jealousy Scale

Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, in certain cases yandere tendencies, +18 content.

Michael Myers 3/10

Not too jealous. He usually doesn't understand the reason for those feelings. Furthermore, no one would be able to touch what he marked for him, his superhuman strength and imposing figure would be on top of anyone who dared to look in your direction. So, he would never get jealous. There's just no need.

Chucky 8/10

Completely canonical that he's a jealous bastard. Just tell him he's not man enough for you and he'll get on top of you without thinking twice forcing you to back off. The person who set his sights on you doesn't have a good destiny, obviously. In reality, it's not good to play with him, his pride as a man is too strong.

Billy Loomis 9/10

Abandonment issues become too present. He doesn't like you getting close to too many guys. If his partner knows his true nature, he will be overly controlling and possessive, he would not like his partner to get too close to friends who could be a threat to their relationship. He is quite manipulative and will use such tactics to get you to stay away from those he doesn't like.

Stu Macher 6/10

Medium level of jealousy. He doesn't like being replaced by someone else, but he won't show much of a reaction if you talk to friends who like you. Anyway, he is also popular and will interact with all types of people. However, if he sees something very noticeable, he will pull the strings underneath and that person who made him jealous will magically disappear. For the sake of the relationship, don't talk about it.

Patrick Bateman 10/10

All your attention should be directed at him. The more genuine your interest and compliments, the more he will seek your attention, so making him jealous and paying attention to someone else would be the end of it. He needs complete devotion. He won't tolerate distractions and could take care of them. Making him feel insecure indirectly is not the best option you could take. It is better to dedicate everything to him.

Jason Vorhees 10/10

He literally keeps you locked up, that is the most representative indication of the matter. He does not like those people standing over you looking at you with lust. He is the only one you need. Yes, he will take care of you and protect you. You should be calm.

Leatherface 10/10

Too insecure with himself, so he expects you to have impeccable behavior. Although luckily for you, you will not have too many moments in which he will get jealous because your only environment is his family. So you must treat them with respect and with certain limits and distance. If not, he will get frustrated. And we know his way of dealing with that.

Art The Clown 2/10

He is not jealous, everything for him is a violent game. If someone flirts with you, he will laugh and do his thing with the same energy as always. Although he won't tolerate you ridiculing him, if you flirt with someone, you will pay, but not because he gets jealous, but because he is the one who makes the rules, not you.

Jason Dean 10/10

Dependent, possessive and obsessive. He's literally a warning in and of himself. Seriously, don't flirt or let yourself be flirted with. Don't break up with him, don't walk away from him, don't stop paying attention to him. Just don't leave him, he's very jealous and won't let you go for any reason. Oh, he's also manipulative, so he'll definitely get you to walk away from that harmless guy in your class.

Alex DeLarge 2/10

He doesn't formally qualify as a slasher, but I'm including him anyway. I don't really see him as jealous, he's more of a controlling guy. He doesn't like having his first choice role in other people's lives taken away from him, he is the leader and the one who commands, but he won't get jealous of anyone, because he thinks highly of himself and is charming when he wants to be. He probably has you wrapped around his finger, so…why get jealous?

Brahms 15/10

He won't let you leave the house for that reason. He doesn't want you to leave him, any outsider is a threat. You are only his, you must accept that. However, even if you accept it, he will still be jealous, because he can't help it. If you want to go out somewhere, he will wonder if it is because you want to see someone.

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ariessunsakura · 2 days ago

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Disclaimer: I started writing my response to this in 2017 and found it in my drafts. I know the whole post is quite old at this point and I'm truly not interested in arguing with anyone or continuing any discussion here, but I decided I didn't want some of what I wrote back then to go to waste.

Back when I started writing my response to this, I was 21 and angry at the large swaths of the fandom insulting the intelligence of Sakura fans like myself. I still love Sakura and SS, but I don't have an issue now saying that men like Kishimoto writing dynamics like Sasuke and Sakura's is something that should be...looked into, let's put it that way haha. That being said, what I still find disheartening is seeing Sakura, very much torn down by misogynistic fans in a large, primarily male fanbase, also torn down or criticized for supposedly feminist reasons by people who are often just determined to dislike her for whatever reason or somehow clearly miss important details. Sakura was reckless and made mistakes and did questionable things, as did many other characters who for some reason draw less ire. Lots of double standards.

Just to reiterate something that's already been said many times, Naruto proves that pop culture aimed at boys should have carefully written main female characters. There is the blatant misogyny that's happened in this fandom that anyone can see. Meanwhile, certain specific fans in the Naruto fandom that I may or may not need to specify (lol) have acted like the gatekeepers of social justice discourse in the fandom when really they've often just been hypocritical and selective about the type of issues they apparently care about when it comes to how they manifest in pop culture, or at least in this bananas series. They've often been bystanders or apologists or worse to that blatant misogyny. In light of everything that's been going on in the world, I sincerely think we should be more careful about how we talk about female characters. So when people write supposedly feminist posts but say that Sakura is just the "female main character with her legs always wide open and ready with basically no standards or expectations" despite everything the story has shown us, I kinda hate it and don't think that's good or feminist at all. Back in 2017, I wrote: I'm sick of condescending takes about Sakura and her fans as though there's little about Sakura’s character or the end of her story that could or should possibly resonate positively with girls.

Again, I know the original post is old. I know that Kishimoto's writing deserves to be criticized and that Sakura made mistakes and should've been written more carefully and responsibly, but I still want to say my piece.

It's true that Sakura is insecure early on, but her feelings for Sasuke really have nothing to do with that. She doesn’t know that Sasuke is popular when she starts to like him, so her feelings have nothing to do with wanting validation.

She knows her worth as a ninja and among her loved ones by part 2. A lot of guys are interested in her, including ones she admires and cherishes (Naruto and Lee). She confronts Sasuke fiercely many times, even as a genin. She basically spent part 2 trying to save or fight or stop him, going so far as thinking she should kill him to protect the village. That's hardly looking for his validation.

And that's not even mentioning what we're shown rather than told about her feelings for him, which is a theme for them. It's often the nonverbal way they act with each other more than what they say.

Karin with her chakra sensing can tell Sakura's grief is genuine and that she must've known Sasuke well.

“There is nothing different or special about Sakura’s love.”

Kishimoto gives us Karin, whose love for Sasuke is written as different from Sakura’s. Karin enables some of Sasuke's destructive choices and ultimately gives up on him, while Sakura ultimately doesn't do either of those things. And we can hypothesize all we want about Ino or some other girl being no different from Sakura, but who's to say they'd have had the same chemistry with Sasuke personality-wise or otherwise, or mutual understanding? We see from inner Sakura and in other instances that she has parallel elements of Naruto's personality, so...yeah, enough said lol. And who's to say another girl would've known exactly when Sasuke would leave the village, unlike Naruto? I think these speak for themselves:

One of the themes of SS, asserted in Kakashi's 693 quote, is that it’s about Sasuke accepting love without an overt reason so he can heal. Love in real life isn't always rational, it's about passion and attraction and things that are unspoken and can't always be put into words, which I think is what Kishimoto wants to convey with SS. The emotion for Sakura in Sasuke's eyes is concealed from us each time he thanks her for a reason. Sasuke tries to make a show of not caring about any of Team 7 or having a reason to love Sakura, but is still clearly drawn to her despite himself.

He's proud of her in the middle of all of the chaos and strife. He can't help but react to her.

I think Kishimoto makes contradictions more than once in the series, maybe including with SS. Clearly he's made a point to write things that make Sakura special and unique in some way to Sasuke, but there's also the message that Sasuke should allow love in without rationalizing it.

Another theme for them and for other women in the story is stated by Shikamaru's father: Even the roughest woman is tender to the guy she loves.

"Sasuke has not singled her out. She doesn’t appeal to him or interest him. She doesn’t challenge him in any emotional, mental, or physical way."

I think all of the above indicates otherwise. She does challenge him and changes his behavior, least of all when he has his first taste of intoxicating power.

He says himself that he has to remove himself from her and Naruto's vicinity to accomplish his goals. I think the intensity of the genjutsu he puts her in mirrors the intensity of some of his fights with Naruto as statements of him forcing away his bonds.

Still, Kishimoto makes a point to include this theme that can also apply to Sasuke:

"...she doesn’t know him, she’s doesn’t understand him, she doesn’t even have a basic grasp on the concepts that are necessary for those things."

Not true. She works tirelessly to understand and learn everything she can, and it's just not her fault that she doesn't always know everything. It honestly doesn't matter that she doesn't.

Sakura gets a lot of heat for what she says when Sasuke leaves the village, but shows she clearly understands his pain later on when trying to reason with Sai:

Never mind that Sasuke isn't even angry at her for what she said when he left.

“Sakura was just afforded the opportunity of being the closest girl around and female main character with her legs always wide open and ready with basically no standards or expectations. But I think the worse part, the really bad thing about it, is it supports a Sakura never growing up(...)as the blind quest for Sasuke’s dick goes on forevermore. All the pathetic shit will forever be apart of her as she dusts a house for a husband who comes home twice a year, who has a child who feels neglected, and she is happy with her dysfunctional family because Sasuke-kun’s anything is enough.”

Anyways.

As for her family, Sakura is clearly distressed by Sarada's distress. Kishimoto inventing a task apparently only Sasuke can do leading to him being away from his family is questionable to say the least, but it's hardly the first time in the story that normal or expected standards maybe can't or don't apply. Never mind Kishimoto probably projecting his own sentiments about men's career burnout and sacrifice onto Sasuke and Naruto...lol

Sasuke treasures Sakura, there is no way around it.

I don't think anyone is saying Kishimoto's writing is always the pinnacle of excellence lol, and no one has to like Sakura or SS. But people should at least think a little more about what Sakura has meant to a lot of girls and how the story actually unfolds.

Just a Little Bit on Sakura and Sasusaku

You know what I think about Sakura? This is less about Sasuke and more about herself. See, as person who dislikes Sakura, I actually think that because I’m not biased with fanfiction interpretations that I have a better grasp of Sakura’s character than some people who love her. Sakura, despite her bravado, is not a person of real confidence. She has low self-esteem and very little self-worth. I think that part of the reason she is so hung up on Sasuke is its a sense of validation for herself. She was shy, friendless, unpopular, and overlooked as a child. She liked Sasuke, but even better, to be acknowledged by someone everyone likes, everyone admires, that would make her special. That would make her somebody worthwhile, right? Of course I do believe that Sakura does have feelings for Sasuke, but is she really in love with Sasuke the person, or is it the idea of him? That he doesn’t notice her or pay attention to her only makes this insecurity worse. Sakura is constantly angsting over not doing enough, not fitting in on her team, not belonging or being someone of necessity. As stated (in the only time she ever elaborates on her feelings) she is attracted to Sasuke because he’s attractive, talented, and “cool”. A person who personifies, in essence, everything she believes herself not to be. God, there’s so much to say about this really, but I’ll save it for later.

It’s part of why Sasusaku is such an out of left field idea to me. Sasusaku shippers portray the ship as the exact same way that leads Sakura’s problematic behavior. They ship it because they love the idea of Sakura being the “special one” who is the exeption to Sasuke’s personality and his greatest weakness and is the “fangirl who’s different from all the other girls”, which is so irritating because she’s not. Sakura is the antithesis of these concepts. There is nothing different or special about Sakura’s love. There is nothing different or special about her as far as relating to Sasuke goes. As I detailed in my previous posts, she doesn’t know him, she’s doesn’t understand him, she doesn’t even have a basic grasp on the concepts that are necessary for those things. Sasuke has not singled her out. She doesn’t appeal to him or interest him. She doesn’t challenge him in any emotional, mental, or physical way. They’re not even close. What does Sasuke even know about Sakura, or understand about her? Sakura, as far as Sasusaku goes, has nothing different or special about their relationship or dynamic that couldn’t be done by any other generic fangirl. Absolutely nothing. Nothing that transpired between them is anything that wouldn’t have happened had any other fangirl been placed on his team. That’s really the only thing Sakura had going for her or that seperates her from, I don’t know, Ino. Do any of you Sasusakus honestly think that if Ino was on his team that he wouldn’t have saved her life? That he wouldn’t have grown to care for her as a teammate? That he wouldn’t have thanked her for caring about him? That he would have left her to die? Or treated her like dirt on the bottom of his shoe? Do you really think that these “Sasusaku proofs of love” aren’t just generic shit that would come with virtually any other teammate, and is actually something unique that would only be there with Sakura?

‘Cause see, that's my whole thing. Can’t say that about Naruto. I can’t say that if Kiba had been his teammate, everything about their relationship would be more or less exactly the same. Or Shikamaru. Or Chouji. Or Neji. 'Cause you see, the manga has shown me this. Its shown me the depth, the reason, the relationship, the uniqueness between the two. In fact, while reading this I bet you were thinking of how different the dynamics would have been between Sasuke and those male characters, because, surprise surprise, there is actually something substantial there that can’t be replicated and receive the same results. Seriously, replace Ino with Sakura and think of what would change in regards to Sasuke. Ino would have cared. Ino would have tried to stop him. Seeing as how there are no substantial moments of bonding or exclusivity between the two, there is nothing that would have happened that Ino couldn’t fill in for. Sasuke waxed lyrical about Naruto and how much he’s always loved him and the ways in which he enriched his life for two straight chapters while Sakura got no mention (except, of course, in the Team 7 picture where he refers to them as such). Sakura was just afforded the opportunity of being the closest girl around and female main character with her legs always wide open and ready with basically no standards or expectations.

For fucks sake, Sakura literally has nothing to do with Sasuke’s character or story arc. Seriously, delete Sakura from the manga and tell me what about Sasuke’s person or journey as character throughout the story changes. Please. Tell me something that would have affected his plot if some other girl with healing powers were on his team.

I’m just saying, there is nothing inside of Sasusaku. Nothing at all. Kishimoto doesn’t give a fuck about this pairing (lol I don’t know how they got together I don’t want any SS in the pairings movie there wasn’t gonna be any in the Bolt movie either but the SS fans are complaining so I guess I’ll come up with something here have a family pic of Sasuke looking like he’s about to run away as soon as the camera flashes and a Karin lookalike child who feels neglected), and it cannot become more apparent how little actual thought goes into this ship. Its just a vicarious fantasy ship where Sasuke is standard shoujo angsty bad boy bishie and Sakura is “independent, normal girl who’s different from all the rest” which is pretty much the antithesis of these characters.

But I think the worse part, the really bad thing about it, is it supports a Sakura never growing up. It takes all those things (the potential for self-reflection and learning to be a person who doesn’t need others to feel worth something) and throws it in the garbage as the blind quest for Sasuke’s dick goes on forevermore. All the pathetic shit will forever be apart of her as she dusts a house for a husband who comes home twice a year, who has a child who feels neglected, and she is happy with her dysfunctional family because Sasuke-kun’s anything is enough. I don’t even fucking like Sakura, but that anyone is defending that anything about what her character turned into is satisfactory and good is honestly some disheartening shit.

#sakura #sakura haruno #sakura uchiha #sasusaku #thanks for coming to my ted talk #you're welcome for the ted talk #I didn't want to just erase what I wrote when I was 21 because it came from a place of strong feelings #this got me in the sasusaku zone fr #they're tea lol #I think this accurately captures how I felt and still feel #if you're gonna spread negativity about Sakura then at least have the facts #don't spread negativity about Sakura lol

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springwitch8 · 2 days ago

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venus, are you there? (agatha harkness x fem!witch!reader)

💜 reupload sorry i fucked up and i'm really sad about it 💜

summary: your patron goddess, venus, has been distant lately. you don't know what you did to upset her, but your life and your powers have been suffering in her absence. you visit the local mage, agatha harkness, about your problem. as you come to find out, it takes a special kind of ritual to provoke the goddess of love.

warnings: lesbian sex duh (18+), DUBCON (innocent!reader is really into agatha's "counsel" but oblivious to her sexual intentions until they're doing the deed), historic westview AU (before it was a suburb, it was a magical village), agatha's improv skills, no beta we die like lilia

notes: after much rumination on the AAA finale, i've decided that being a lifelong liar and diabolical villain can only make a lesbian hotter. centuries is a long time to live, and my brain has gone wild thinking of all the messed-up ways agatha must have passed the time. i imagine she had some fun with the women around her—giving them the attention and stimulation they needed, regardless of whether they knew it or not. gotta keep the bed warm between all the power-stealing and mass murder, am i right ladies?

"agatha harkness, mother of witches, watches over westview from her dwelling on the hill. any spell you can't cast, she will."

so the story went, passed around among the women of the village. if they were to be believed, agatha ran an apothecary out of her home, a one-stop shop of sorts for witches in dire need of guidance. the locals spoke about her with admiration, and the tales of her magical miracles were legend.

hardly a day went by without some talk of agatha's feats: how she unbound someone's great-aunt after the woman had been powerless for decades, or how she rescued a friend of a friend from certain death after a nasty broomstick accident.

---

venus, goddess of love and beauty, had been guiding you all your life. when you were little, you saw her sometimes in the flower-dotted meadow behind your house—a spectral angel, wrapped in pink silk with her hand outstretched to you.

now, though, venus had been silent for nearly a month. her altar was covered in offerings, none of which seemed to please her. you tried every trick under the moon to lure your patron goddess out of hiding, but nothing stuck.

with every failure, things felt increasingly... off. out of the blue, your jewelry degraded to the point that it looked cheap and rusty. you felt tired more often; your skin grew cold and dry. then, you started to feel venus's absence in your relationships. when you got into a huge fight with your best friend over a random misunderstanding, you knew you had to do something.

---

bouncing anxiously on your heels, you waited for agatha to answer the knocks at her door. there was something foreboding about her house in all its gothic glory.

the intricately carved door swung open and there she was, the fabled mother of witches. long brown waves cascaded over her purple-clad shoulders, wild tresses gliding over a silken cloak. you hadn't expected her to be so gorgeous. you'd always pictured the local legend as a crone.

"can i help you, sweetheart?" her voice was warm and lilting. you were almost too staggered by her darkly striking looks to reply, and agatha seemed to know it. her eyes sparkled with amusement, and the corners of her mouth tilted upward.

"um, i hope so," you finally managed before steadying yourself with a deep breath. "venus is my guide, but she's been ignoring me lately. all my gifts and devotions have been worthless; i still can't find her."

"hmmm..." agatha hummed in contemplation, her brows furrowed and fingernails tapping rhythmically against the doorframe. moments later, she ushered you inside and closed the door behind you. "what have you offered her? do you have a proper altar at home?"

"yes, and i've tried everything: fresh roses and myrtle, sea shells, wine, honey, chocolate..." you trailed off as you noticed the scenery around you.

agatha's walls were covered from floor to ceiling in magical materials and aids. she had jars upon jars of herbs, petals and extracts; woven tapestries of pagan deities and common incantations; various crystals suspended in place, arranged to form rune-like symbols; and a massive "death" tarot card in a frame lined with wilted flowers.

as you looked around her home, awestruck, agatha gently nudged you toward her couch. you sunk into the black leather and surveyed the coffee table in front of you, similarly cluttered with witchy items like candles, incense, and a cauldron. agatha stayed on her feet, pacing back and forth while she pondered your situation.

"how long has it been since you last sensed her?" agatha asked. you felt your face heat up when she turned her intense blue gaze to you. you could practically feel the power radiating off of her.

"about a month," you answered sheepishly, wringing your hands in your lap. a look of intrigue flashed across the witch's face and she stalked toward you. soon, she was standing behind the couch where you were sat, her hands firm on your shoulders.

"you're a pretty girl..." she thought out loud, and you squirmed subtly in place at the compliment. "servant of venus, and it shows..." her fingernails traced barely-there spirals on either side of your neck, and goosebumps spread across your skin. satisfied, agatha pulled away to resume her pacing. "got anyone special in your life?"

"i-i'm close with some of the other witches in town, and my grandma lives in the next village over—"

"not what i meant, honey," agatha purred and perched herself on the couch next to you. "who looks after your needs?" you didn't reply, staring at her quizzically. she tried again. "cute thing like you must have a gentleman caller or two, no?"

"not at the moment," you shook your head. "although there was a man who passed through westview a while back, a traveler. he courted me."

"and were you intimate with this nomad?"

"he only kissed me once, right before he left town. said he'd be back for me."

"how did it feel?"

"p-pardon?" you stammered, not expecting to be grilled on your romantic history today—let alone by agatha harkness, who grinned like a cheshire cat at your shyness.

"magic-wise, i mean. acts of affection can trigger power surges, especially for witches who follow venus... if she approves."

"i don't remember sensing anything out of the ordinary," you shrugged. "i wasn't expecting to feel a spark right away; it was just nice to be admired."

"i'm sure, but you're a disciple of venus. do keep in mind: she rules over love, not self-esteem," agatha took hold of your hand while she advised you, sending a chill up your arm. "i have a theory. when did you meet this man?"

"five or six weeks ago, i'd say."

"then it sounds like your goddess was displeased with your choice of lover."

"what, so she's just gone? i kissed the wrong guy and she gave up on me?"

"oh no, sweetpea, you just have to get her attention again."

"how can i do that?" agatha paused at the question, surveying the room in all its magical madness.

"do you still have power?"

"yes," you said, extending your palm toward her—only your magic wouldn't spark. it fizzled, emitting blots of pale pink, but you couldn't get your powers flowing fully.

"oh dear! looks like your magic's not flowing right. it's still there, promise."

"how can you tell?"

agatha narrowed her eyes and gave you a smirk that made you clench your thighs together. then she surged forward, cupping your face and kissing you deeply before you even knew what was happening.

agatha's kiss was hungry, purposeful. her tongue lapped at yours while her fingers sent purple caresses along your jawline. she took your breath away and set your body on fire all at once. to your disappointment, she subsequently pulled away.

"see, lovebug?" she beamed at the sight of you with hooded eyes and kiss-swollen lips. then, she held your open palm up to your light of sight. "you've still got it."

sure enough, the glow of your magic was there. it was weak, but it was there, swirling in the center of your hand.

"why don't you try lifting that spell jar over there?" agatha gestured to a small object on a wall shelf. "the one with the pink wax seal."

you aimed your palm at the spell jar and focused your energy, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't harness the telekinetic power to make it budge. you huffed in frustration.

"don't lose hope, angel," agatha rubbed your thigh comfortingly. "i know a ritual."

"you can bring venus back to my side? really?" you perked up in near-disbelief.

"would you be here if you doubted me?" she quipped back, forcing a conciliatory head shake out of you. "didn't think so. now take your clothes off."

"what?" your eyes almost bulged out of your head, but your thighs clenched together involuntarily at the thought of the older witch seeing your body. one predatory smile from agatha, and your mind was officially at war with your body. she stroked your cheek in mock sympathy, but you could see the amusement in her eyes. she gestured to the wall opposite you both, plastered with photos and illustrations of nude witches dancing under the moon and wading into the sea.

"precious few magical rites involve fabric, darling," agatha soothed. "it's an unnecessary barrier between your energy and the earth."

reluctant yet hanging on her every word, you relented and stripped for her. there was a pleased glint in her eye while she watched your body intently. you peeled off your clothes, giving her occasional anxious looks while you bared yourself.

"good girl," she cooed, watching you shift uneasily from foot to foot. your nipples hardened at a chill, and you could swear her eyes darkened in response. you blinked, and she was in front of you, her robes mere inches from your naked body. after another blink and a rush of purple, you found yourself in another room in the sprawling house—what seemed, at a cursory glance, like agatha's bedroom. "pardon the change of scenery; this is the most magically protected place in the house. now," she gestured to a king-sized, plush purple bed. "on your back, gorgeous. get nice and comfy so we can draw out your power."

"are you gonna have me meditate? or, ummm, astral project?" you asked in arousal and disbelief.

"sure, more or less," she chuckled darkly. impatient, she sent you floating to the center of the mattress with a purple mist. standing at the foot of the bed, she stared at you like you were her last meal. you heard a faint, sparkling whoosh and looked up to see tendrils of violet flying from her palms, a knowing grin on her face. when her magic latched onto your skin and began to stroke its way up your thighs, she piped up again. "can you feel that, sweet girl?"

before you could respond, agatha pounced. she caged your body with hers and dove for a sensitive spot on your neck. she suckled, and you gave a breathy moan that seemed to excite her.

she made her way down to your sternum with sloppy kisses, then turned her attention to your breasts—squeezing and caressing them while you both sighed in pleasure. her hands were rough and greedy and felt so good.

"is this, ahhh, part of the—" agatha cut you off by pinching your nipple between her fingers, rolling it while threads of her magic danced around the sensitive bud. when she closed her mouth around your other nipple, your back arched off the bed, and the three candles on agatha's nightstand spontaneously lit. you gaped at the witch above you in shock. "did i do that?"

"sure did, superstar. i told you this ritual would draw out your power," the older witch said with a smugly victorious smile. she gave each of your tits a kiss farewell before reluctantly parting with them. then, she planted a meandering path of energy-infused smooches from your chest all the way down to your lower belly. even the gentlest touches of her magic electrified your nerve endings, making you writhe under agatha in a silent plea for more, more, more. "oh dear, aren't you needy?"

"yes, yes please agatha, i need you to..." you trailed off upon seeing the expectant, self-satisfied look on the woman's face. the clouds of your desire parted momentarily, and you finally realized what exactly you were asking the mother of witches to do for you (to you). agatha had seduced you into her lair, reduced you to a begging mess. you decided right then and there not to hold it against her. "finish the ritual."

"how could i deny such a polite request from such a pretty girl?" agatha cooed before snapping her fingers, pinning your legs open with her magic. your ankles were bound to opposite corners of the bed by shimmering purple cuffs of energy. agatha grinned wolfishly as she situated herself between your spread legs. "alright, baby, just relax. let yourself feel."

you released a shaky breath and closed your eyes in preparation for agatha's touch. at the first stroke of her fingers through your folds, you felt magic crackling in your veins. you tried to stay on top of the wave of power that threatened to overwhelm you.

"goddess, you're dripping. that's a good sign," agatha drawled, her eyes fixed on her fingers as they lightly stroked up and down your pussy. with no warning, her pointer finger found your clit and pressed down, eliciting a yelp from you. when she began to draw firm circles on the bundle of nerves, you cried out, and the candles on agatha's bedside table rumbled like they were about to tip over. "that's my girl. feels nice when i rub you there, hmmm?"

"s'good, agatha, please don't stop..." you babbled breathlessly, your hips bucking toward her hand. agatha made a low growling sound and laid her free arm across your abdomen, pinning your lower body to the mattress. then, while you were still reeling from her manhandling, she slipped two slender fingers inside you. "oh!" you squealed at the foreign sensation, the sudden fullness. her digits probed your pussy, searching for something. you squirmed as her long fingers combed your fluttering walls. "ag—ahhh, i feel funny."

"i know, sweetie, just bear with me for a second here. you're taking it so well," agatha's free hand twitched and sent a bolt of tingling purple warmth to your clit, rewarding your patience. you gasped and bit your lip to keep from screaming. agatha wasn't even touching your bundle of nerves, yet you could feel her playing with it all the same. while agatha chuckled at your barely-restrained desire, her fingers found your g-spot. this time, you couldn't suppress a keening moan. "oooh, i like that sound. stay loud, lovely girl; let venus hear you."

she emphasized her words with a hard stroke of her fingertips against your special spot, and you shrieked. your hands scrambled for purchase somewhere, anywhere, and ultimately clung to two threads tied to the bedframe above your head. you didn't remember them being there before, but you figured it was one of agatha's tricks. had you opened your eyes, you would have seen the rosy color of the glowing strings and realized that you, not agatha, conjured them.

"are you close, baby girl? i can feel your magic pulsing and flowing," agatha whispered with a sultry wink. you clenched around her fingers and she cackled, pressing her violet-charged thumb to your clit and doubling the energetic stimulation there. you yanked at the pink restraints above your head and writhed pathetically at her touch. "if the ritual is true, you're about to experience pure ecstasy. say my name when you do."

it was all too much. her fingers twisted inside you and brushed your g-spot while her thumb rubbed vibrating, sparkling circles on your clit. a wave of white-hot bliss crested over you, and you cried out: "agatha!"

"princess," the older witch soothed as she continued her ruthless strokes. she looked around in awe as the room was bathed in blushing light, your just-recovered power shining in the afterglow of your orgasm. but agatha didn't let up. she wanted a replay of your precious, pleasured face. when you tried to wiggle out of her grasp, she scoffed. "don't pretend you can't give me another because you're going to, little witch."

she then ducked down to mouth at your clit while sneaking a third finger into you, curling to hit your most sensitive spots with vibrating energy. she took your button into her mouth and sucked vigorously, which sent you floating over the edge once more. again you screamed her name, but this time you also reached for her free hand where it rested on your chest. her fingers eagerly intertwined with yours, and your magic reached out for hers—a pink orb yearning for a touch of purple, charged hands held together by attraction.

"come back to me, superstar," the older woman coaxed as your orgasm faded. she smiled and guided your palm into your field of view. there it was, as if it had never dimmed: your power. agatha had fulfilled her promise. "told you so. i could have stopped after one, so that second round was just for me—you're stunning when you come."

"you... you did it. you got her back," you whispered in disbelief and gratitude. "thank you, agatha. i don't know how to repay you for this."

"oh, i can think of a few ways," she laughed, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "how about you show me what you can do with all that power, honey?"

you sat up and stared at her, confused. she took your glowing hand and dragged it over her upper thigh, exposed by a slit in her dress. you took the hint, swiftly using your magic to vanish her clothes just as she'd done for you. you waved her legs apart and teased your way through her folds, savoring the feeling of her arousal on your fingers. agatha huffed.

"that all you got, daughter of venus? not even gonna touch me witch-style?" agatha provoked. you sighed but gave in, your index finger sending a beam of pink stimulation to explore her from the inside. she gasped and bucked her hips at you frantically. smirking, you lowered your face down to her pussy and started worshipping her clit. while you sucked the bundle of nerves into your mouth, your hands snuck up to agatha's chest. you tweaked her nipples with magic-tinged fingers, and the triple stimulation made the older witch fall apart. "such a good, sweet girl... don't stop, angel..."

you kept working diligently until the witch groaned and pushed you away with a wall of violet. you sat back on your knees and gazed at her, dazedly waiting for any sign of approval. as soon as agatha recovered from her high, she caught you by surprise with a deep, heated kiss.

"you, my darling, are full of surprises," agatha booped your nose as she pulled away. "and look at you!" she cradled your hand and pressed her finger into the center of your swirling, rosy magic. "got your groove back. i told you i'd fix ya right up, and the ritual wasn't so bad, was it?"

"n-no, it was... thank you," you stammered, still reacting to the ritual. "how much do i owe you?"

"don't be silly, toots," agatha said melodically while she wrapped her arms around you and lay back. "i believe in karma. you'll pay me back in kind someday, sugar; don't sweat it today."

"what if she leaves again?" you whispered, feeling agatha's shallow breathing against the crown of your head as she snuggled you. she shook her head, and you felt her nose moving from side to side.

"shhh, sweetheart," she cooed, running her fingers up and down the exposed side of your torso. "that's what i'm here for. any more problems, you come to me. i'd happily make you feel good as new."

satisfied, you burrowed into agatha's hold and drifted off to sleep. with the object of her desire finally at her mercy, agatha was pleased too. she thought about her next move; she'd need to possess another man to pursue you and throw off your powers again. you'd probably get wise to it after the third or fourth guy, but what could you do about it? try to kill her? agatha smiled at the day's work and breathed in your scent, lulling herself to sleep.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness smut #agatha all along #agatha all along fanfic #agatha all along smut #marvel fanfiction #wandavision smut #reupload #sorry i deleted it idiot idiot idiot

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railingsofsorrow · 2 days ago

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Back To Normalcy

[JJ Maybank x reader]

summary: JJ often caught your unfocused gaze drifting to a random corner, lost inside your head. After Morocco, he noticed that a lot.

pairing: jj maybank x f!reader

w.c: 2.8K

warnings/content: near death experiences (flashbacks); obx4 ending is discussed (as in graphic descriptions of what happened so be aware); jj being the best whipped boyfriend; PTSD is hinted; hurt/comfort (trust me, no one dies); paragraphs in italics are flashbacks.

A/N: this is kind of a fix-it and it is set after the pogues find the blue crown. it will have discrepancies regarding canon cause I didn't watch obx4 part 2. bear with me. I'm editing this in the middle of class lol. merry christmas to those who celebrate and a happy new years!!!

navi

masterpost

obx masterlist

request me something

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“So it's like... We gotta think of everything. Yeah, we found it, but we gotta—”

“... Have a solid plan, yeah, Pope.” John B cut him off, earning a glare which made the edge of his lips quirk up in amusement. If there was one thing the Pogues had fun in doing, that thing was annoying Pope Heyward. It was just too easy. “Sorry, sorry.” The Routledge boy raised his arms, pretending to surrender but the grin in his mouth betrayed him. John B never felt the will to smile more than he did in that moment. He had his friends. His family. With him. Safe and sound. Finally. Everyone in one piece. Barely. . . And back home. What more could he ask for?

What more could any of them ask for, really?

You tuned out the conversation for the tenth time that night. You loved bonfires. Especially the ones where your friends organized, where you felt at home around their stupid jokes and drunk laughter.

But you couldn't focus tonight. Somehow you always ended up right back in the scalding sand of Morocco, blood sipping through your fingers as tried desperately to stop it. Your screams of agony even though you weren't the one stabbed echoed through your brain like you had worked hard to memorize it.

You'd rather it had been you, actually. No doubt about that.

The soft nudge in your leg made you step out of the infusion of bad memories your head had conjured up. As your eyes adjusted to the bonfire's flames, you noticed all your friends staring at you in expectancy.

“What?”

Instead of the nudge, you felt cold fingers come in contact with your thigh and you almost flinched at the coldness — that coldness — before you caught the beer bottle in his hand. With a gentle squeeze to your thigh, JJ brought you back to Earth.

“I was just tellin' them here,” he began, leaving his beer aside to scoot closer. “how I'm gonna kidnap you to South America any moment now.”

“Hey.” You forced your breathing to slow down. He didn't need you freaking out now, he needed you to be on your best sane behavior, that's what JJ needed. He needed you. “Jay? Baby, take a deep breath, it's alright.”

“He, um...” JJ's shaky hands reached yours and you shook your head when his fingers curled around your bloody ones in his stomach. “I can't— You—”

“I'm here. It's okay. It's gonna be okay, yeah? You just, you just have to keep breathing. Slowly, like me? Okay?”

Where was everybody?

“And how are you gonna do that?” You forced out, taking a long sip of your beer in a foolish attempt of drowning the memories in your head.

Sarah let out a snicker and Cleo's thick accent scolded somebody but you couldn't bring yourself to the present moment. No, you were still fucking there.

“Pope!” You bellowed now unable to control the shakiness of your hands as they tried to stop the blood. So much blood. So much blood. Why? “John B! Where is— Kiara! Baby, hey, hey!” You used one of your hands to grab his cheek, tilting his head to look at you, his half-lidded eyes showed you how weak he was. You didn't care that his pretty face was smeared with your bloody hands, you had to make him stay awake. “JJ? JJ!”

He blinked with difficulty, gazing up at you. “Hi...” And he had the decency to smile. He smiled! How can someone who has been stabbed smile and it takes your breath away the same away? You never thought you'd see his last smile and you shouldn't even be thinking of that because you both are young and have a whole life ahead of you so why would you be thinking of your boyfriend's last smile?

“Hey.” You cried out. “J, you gotta stay awake for me, okay? I'm getting help. You just have to—”

“I love you.”

Certainly, your whole body froze right at that second. That hadn't been the first time he said it, no. JJ made sure to let you know he loved you thousands of times ever since he said the three little words for the first time. And every time he said it, you felt the warmth of his arms around you, his sunbathed skin against yours and the softness of his lips curling in his favorite spot on your neck after a long day.

That's what “I love you” means when JJ says it.

Except now there was no warmth because he felt cold. Everything regarding him was cold. The kind of coldness a boy with the sun in his smile shouldn't have. There was no smile, not the same smile, at least. There was no life because your favorite boy was saying goodbye and that's what his words meant this time.

Coming back to the bonfire was almost as if a bucket of cold water had been splashed in your face. Your friends had vanished. Nobody was around but you.

“Hey.”

. . . And JJ.

You should've thought he wouldn't have left you alone.

“Hey,” you offered him a half-assed smile. “Where's everyone?”

“Inside.” He mentioned towards the house with a jerk of his head before turning back to you. His cerulean eyes studied your frame for a bit before he let out a sigh, standing up and outstretching a hand in your direction.

You stared at it and him with a raise of your brow. A question.

There was nothing JJ hated more than waiting. So, he didn't wait. He lowered fully to kiss your lips since you were sitting down, enjoying the way they parted in surprise. Stealthily, he wrapped an arm behind your back and beneath your knees and before you could react he pulled you up as if you weighted a penny.

“Jesse James Maybank!”

Oh, he was well aware he was in deep shit when you say that but hell, he missed having a reaction from you that was something other than forced smiles and blank stares.

JJ often caught your unfocused gaze drifting to a random corner, lost inside your head. After Morocco, he noticed that a lot.

“Not the government name, babe.”

“Dude, put me down.”

A gasp. “And now I've been called dude what has this world become!”

He halted near the water, after walking across the beach for a few long minutes with you in his arms. You just stopped fighting, slapping his butt at every step he took.

“You think it's the drums or somethin'?”

“Could be.”

As he sent a look of disapproval your way once he placed you down on your feet, it pulled a laugh out of you.

His fingers — no longer cold — cupped your cheeks and brought you closer. “Do it again.”

“Do what?”

His eyes carried that glint of pure joy mixed with the ocean blue that would get you hypnotized. You just didn't know why this time.

“Your laugh. Haven't heard it in so long.”

Oh.

“That's not true.” You held his wrists just to feel the warmth of his skin when he began caressing your cheeks.

JJ hummed, the sound a gentle protest against your claim. He's come a long way to know your little tells, so he wasn't not easily fooled. With a glance in your way, he knew the hidden meanings.

“Uh, yeah. It is, babe.”

You pulled your hair behind your ears, burying your toes in the sand as you racked your brain to seek an excuse that would work to get you out of that conversation. Any excuse would do, really. But you feared you used all of them since you came back from Morocco. And he knew that.

“Are you ready to talk about it?”

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed down with difficulty.

“Are you?”

“That's not what I asked.”

You finally glanced up, finding him staring forward at the waves, almost distracted. No, not almost. The look in his eyes, you recognize in yourself when drifted back to two weeks ago and the horror took over your mind. It didn't only happen to the two of you, you remember that every time you caught John B outside in the middle of the night, arms behind his head as he stared at nowhere in particular. Or Sarah, when she would crawl up into your bed saying she missed you but you knew exactly what she meant by that. Or Cleo. Oftentimes you needed to force something out of her given everything she went through otherwise she would shove it all in and then never share. Or Pope, because he lost a lot and yes he would never say he hated the whole chasing gold adventure or Poguelandia but he missed safety and a time when you didn't have to worry about danger at your every corner. He's getting used to peace a little more now. Or Kiara, the girl who was a fighter through and through and would choose her friends over anyone in the world, but she needed reassurance once in a while and you all would coddle her a little when you knew it was time for it.

The look.

They all had it. They all suffered through stuff that made them carry it.

And not talking about it made it worse, you told Cleo that once, but since when did you ever take your own advice?

“Yeah, well, Jayj.” You begin, crossing your arms over your chest as the wind picked up. “It happened to you, not to me. It's you who should be ready to talk about it, not me.”

“I remember the blood in your hands, my blood,” JJ still didn't look at you. He was ready to talk about it, not ready-ready but he could accept what happened. That he almost wasn't here. “I remember your voice asking—pleading for me to not close my eyes—”

“Stop.”

JJ finally turned to you, his lips tugging downwards with sadness. “See? It's you who can't talk about it.”

“You almost died in my arms and you expect me to just accept that as if it was a common occurrence?!” It came out as an accusation but in reality you didn't really blame him. He had no fault whatsoever in being stabbed and almost dying. The fault relayed only on the person who caused this torture on all of you. “I can't...” Your voice cracked with newfound emotion. “I can't imagine living in a world where you're not in it, JJ.”

Before he could speak, you cut him off. The dam had broke and now everything you had been hold it in was going to be unleashed.

“You told me you loved me and then you... You stopped breathing.”

He blinked, brows furrowing in thought. JJ knew there was some things he couldn't entirely recall that day, but he didn't remember that.

“I love you.”

If his heartbeat was faint before, now it was non-existent and if felt like the weight of the world had crumbled down on you.

“Open your eyes,” you begged, grabbing his cheeks as a cry of pain left your lips. He was cold. His eyelids shut as if he was sleeping. He was calm. “JJ, open your eyes!” And that's when you felt something touch your shoulder, different hands and voices beside you. All you could focus was on him. “No, c'mon. Jay. Jay? I didn't—” you held his head to your chest, fully sobbing. It was like your heart was being ripped apart. “I didn't say it back.”

Even if she had told him she loved him as many times before, she hadn't say it one last time in time.

You flinched slightly when you were pulled into a pair of arms, fingers reaching the back of your neck to gently press you against a chest. A beating heart welcomed your ears and you didn't realize you were crying until the sobs must've echoed the entire beach.

“I'm sorry, I don't— I don't remember that.”

Your cries were muffled by his shirt. “It wasn't your fault,” you said, your chest tight. “I wish it hadn't gotten to that point cause it was... Fuck.”

JJ tightened his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into your neck. He was still clearly shaken up by what happened, reasonably so. But seeing you like that... He would've take back every decision he made that took your group to that moment just so you wouldn't have to go through that.

He complained when you pulled back a little, drying your tears to glance up at him. Your lips stretching into a timid smile. A real one.

“I'm glad you're okay.” You said with a nod, exhaling as the fog diminished significantly. “I'm happy. But I'm so deeply sorry that I couldn't do more. That I almost let you—”

“Hey, no, no.” JJ was quick to interrupt your train of thought, grabbing your shoulders. “Do not even go there, alright? Absolutely not. Don't even— babe.” He leaned down to connect your foreheads. “You saved my life. All of you. You really think I'd be fine with going... wherever that I wouldn't be able to annoy the shit out of you? I mean— ow!”

You glared at him after punching his forearm though you weren't upset as soon as he gave you his disarming grin that turned your legs to Jell-O.

“You told me you can't imagine living in a world where I'm not in it, right? Well.” JJ brought your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles as his blue eyes full of life studied you in a serious manner. “I happen to absolutely not want to live in a world without in it either...” He tugged you closer. “It would be boring as hell and that's why I would probably, I don't know, crawl out of whatever grave I was in to tickle your feet during the night.”

“Fuck off.” You groaned with a laugh and he shut you up with a kiss, his hand crawling up on your back to press your closer.

“I can't live without your sounds,” he kissed the edge of your mouth, then moved towards your jaw. “Any of them. I can't live without your smile or seeing your lashes fluttering before you wake up. Or without seeing you when you're pissed at me and you pout the entire time, it just makes me want to kiss you but I know it would earn me a punch in the neck.”

“Yeah it would.”

He chuckled, lifting you so you could wrap your legs around his middle. He held the back of your thighs, thumbs running through your smooth skin.

“Hey.” He said softly, bumping his nose with yours as the waves crashed a few feet away, butting in on your moment. “I love you. And I'm gonna stay in your life for as long as you let me. There will be no stupid rushed goodbyes or near-death experiences that will stop that, alright?” He smiled when you nodded, pressing your lips to his. “Yeah.” He started kissing your whole face then just to listen to the inevitable sound of your laugh again. He could never get tired of it. JJ would crawl out of hell just to hear that sound for the rest of his life.

“And about that South America trip—”

“I'm in.” You said, resting your chin on his shoulder, fingertips scratching his scalp as you stared at the sea. “You can kidnap me to wherever you want.”

His excited laughter echoed in your ears like your favourite song chiming in during a stormy night.

“Oh we're gonna have so much fun.” JJ started rambling on his way back to the house, you in his arms because he refused to put you down. “I'm finally teaching you how to surf! And we can visit all the beaches in Brazil, 'm gonna show you some pictures, it'll be amazin', baby, you'll see.”

“I can't wait.” You mumbled with a kiss to his temple. “Are you just gonna carry me around or...”

“Yes.” He pecked your lips, hands squeezing your waist lightly which earned a proper curse out of you and his usual untamed laugh that you were crazy about. “Just stay put and look pretty.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping both arms around his neck and didn't complain. Why would you? You had your favorite boy holding you in his arms, rambling about your future plans to South America on his way to your place. You had nothing to complain about.

You just had to get used to getting back to normalcy.

━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @hoeshissworld

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x fem!reader #outer banks fanfiction #obx season 4 #outer banks imagine #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank fanfiction

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cressidagrey · 1 day ago

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The moment I could see it - Part 4

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: 5 Times that Gianpiero Lambiase thinks that Ariel Cane and Max Verstappen are weirdly similar…and 1 time he is just happy that the two of them are no longer pining after each other.

Warnings:

GP's POV, mention of cancer, mention of parent's death

Author Notes: I am back to my old tricks...which means I write from the most random of POV's just because. (I once wrote a chapter from a dog's POV so like, GP doesn't even really count.

Quite frankly… GP had expected fireworks.

He had expected Max and Ariel to have explosive disagreements. He had expected her to give up 6 months in. He had expected them to clash at every turn. A battle of wills.

What he hadn't expected however...was the fact that the two of them needed less than 2 months to be completely and utterly besotted with each other.

Or Best Friends as they had titled themselves.

They got along creepily well. They didn't have disagreements. Or if they had, then they didn’t have them anywhere GP or any other staff member was privy too.

Max and Ariel had an almost...terrifying dynamic. It was like they were on the same wave length, like they thought the same things at exactly the same time.

And the way Max would look at her sometimes...

It was like he was mesmerized.

But more than that...Max also actually... listened to her.

She could say something to him and he would actually stop and think about it. She had a way to say things to him that made the cogs in his brain spin and Max actually reconsidered. It was almost unbelievable.

Max Verstappen: renowned wild child, and international racing car river… Was hanging on the words of a young, attractive girl. Not only hanging on her words, but taking them into account and adjusting his behavior according to them.

GP sometimes wished he could bottle some of that when Max was being unreasonable to him.

But it seemed to be something that was just…utterly Ariel.

Ariel who turned the mighty Dutch Lion off the race track into a domesticated kitten that looked at her adoringly and who GP had found more than once in his driver’s room napping with his head in her lap, while Ariel drew her fingernails over his scalp and answered her emails one-handed.

Max clearly wasn’t the only one who was besotted.

That was the part that was most concerning to GP. The fact that Ariel seemed to be just as head over heels for Max as Max was for her.

It was a mind-boggling turn of events. Gianpiero still had a bit of trouble wrapping his head around it, and it had been almost one and a half years since these two started working together.

It was crazy. It was insane. It almost felt surreal.

But there was no denying it. Max Verstappen was actually paying attention to Ariel's opinions and advice.

GP still couldn't decide if he was impressed, confused, scared or all of the above.

The rest of the team spent much of the 2020 season not worried about a global pandemic but wondering when the two of them would figure things out. GP had to admit, he and the other members of the team had more pressing things to worry about than the relationship between Max and Ariel. Between dealing with the restrictions and disruptions caused by the global pandemic, as well as Max Verstappen's actual races, there was plenty to worry about.

However, the ongoing...whatever was going on between the two of them was a frequent topic of conversation.

"Do you think they're dating?" one of the mechanics would ask.

"Nah, they're just friends," another one would reply.

"No way, there's something going on there," yet another person would chime in.

The constant chatter and speculation about Max and Ariel's relationship went on for months.

"I bet they're dating in secret," one of the engineers would say.

"Not a chance, they're just friends," a press officer would counter.

"I don't know, they seem pretty cozy together," a member of the marketing team would chime in.

It was like a never-ending game of “guess the relationship status”.

And then... Silverstone 2021 happened.

Gianpiero still winced when he thought about that day.

It was one of the most intense and stressful races of the season. The mood around the Red Bull team was tense as the race unfolded. Everyone was on edge as they watched Max battle it out with Lewis. And then Max and Lewis Hamilton had come into contact.

GP watched as the two cars came together at Copse corner, a sickening feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

The Mercedes was fine. The Red Bull careened into the wall.

GP would never forget those moments after the crash. The seconds that ticked by as they waited for confirmation that Max was alive and conscious. The silence, as everyone in the team held their breath, waiting for news.

He didn’t know how Ariel had reacted to it. He ha been so focused on the radio an the life stream to the accient sight, that Ariel hadn’t been on his mind.

He did later hear that Ariel had been waiting in the medical tent by the time Max had been brought in there… that she had been in the hospital with him, when they had scanned his brain and sent him back to the hotel with a concussion and bruises but thankfully, gloriously alive…

The next morning he showed up at Max’s hotel room with definitely nutritionist unapproved cinnamon rolls and coffe, because the guy had nearly died, so the least he deserved was a sugar rush.

Ariel was the one who answered the door.

There, standing in the doorway to Max's hotel room, was Ariel. She wore a simple t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and her hair was tousled, indicating that she had just woken up.

GP blinked, momentarily taken aback by her presence. "Ariel," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Is...Max still asleep?"

He was also quite sure that she was wearing Max‘s shirt because it was too big for her, hanging loosely off her slender frame.

“I would be, but somebody insisted on waking me every hour,” came the grumbling voice of Max from inside the room.

GP quirked an eyebrow at Ariel, who just rolled her eyes. He couldn't help but notice the look of fondness on Ariel's face even as she rolled her eyes in response.

“Good Morning, GP, I hope you slept well,” she greeted him drily, opening the door for him to enter the room.

“And just for the record, it was Doctor’s orders because of his concussion,” Ariel explained.

It made sense, but still...GP couldn’t help but find it slightly amusing that Ariel was the one who was apparently tasked with waking Max up every half-hour.

Max sat on the bed, still looking a bit groggy. He gave GP a sleepy nod in greeting, while Ariel closed the door behind him.

GP couldn’t help but notice the domesticity of the scene. The two of them just woken up, in Max’s hotel room, and Ariel...wearing Max’s shirt. He returned Max's sleepy nod and turned his gaze towards Ariel, who leaned against the closed door with a fond yet slightly weary expression.

As he observed the domestic scene in front of him, GP couldn’t help but notice how...natural and effortless they seemed together. Max, still weary and in his pajamas, and Ariel, wearing his shirt, standing by his side.

"How are you feeling?" GP inquired, addressing Max. His eyes flicked between the two young people in front of him, trying to gauge the situation.

Max shrugged, running a hand through his messy hair. "Like Lewis Hamilton shunted me into a wall," he replied his voice quiet.

GP gave a sympathetic wince at that. "That bad, huh?"

Max nodded, a grim expression on his face. "Yeah, that bad," he said gruffly. "My head feels like it's been used as a boxing bag, and my back is killing me."

GP grimaced again. "Well, that's to be expected. You took a pretty hard hit."

He paused, studying Max's face for a moment before adding, "I know the doctors said you'll be okay, but you scared us all there for a bit."

Max grunted in acknowledgment, "Yeah, I guess I did." He looked a bit sheepish for a moment before returning his gaze to GP. "Sorry for worrying everyone," he muttered, but there was a hint of humor in his eyes, like he was secretly pleased with the attention.

Gianpiero gave a dry chuckle. "No need to apologize. You didn't plan on getting shunted into a wall, after all."

He glanced around the room, taking in the mess of clothes, blankets, and various medical supplies scattered around the bed.

"Looks like you have a good nurse keeping you company, though," he noted, shooting a look at Ariel.

She was still standing by the door, her head propped up against it lazily, watching the two men with a small, fond smile.

Max's mouth curled into a smirk. "The best nurse there is," he said with a shrug. “Even when she has a horrible bedside manner,” Max added drily.

"Yeah, and you told me to fuck off," Ariel shot back.

A smirk tugged at the corner of GP’s mouth as he watched the exchange between the two.

Max reached out and patted the bed beside him, signaling for Ariel to sit down. She pushed off the door and padded over, sitting down beside Max and letting him wrap an arm around her.

GP found himself raising an eyebrow at the sight, taking notice of how comfortable and natural the gesture seemed to be for these two.

GP couldn’t deny it; the sight of Max’s arm wrapped around her like it was the most natural thing in the world, didn’t surprise him as much as it should’ve. There was something about their dynamic that was strangely magnetic…and a little disconcerting.

Max grumbled a bit, but there was no heat in his voice. "You deserved it," he muttered. "Who the fuck wakes someone up every hour after a concussion?"

Ariel rolled her eyes, a hint of amused irritation in her tone. "Someone who doesn't want your brain to leak out your ears," she shot back. "And I don't have a horrible bedside manner, you're just a pain in the ass when you're concussed."

Max huffed in mock affront, feigning offense. "I'll have you know, I'm a model patient when I'm concussed," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. GP let out a snort, silently disagreeing with Max's statement.

"Yeah, right," Ariel said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because a model patient throws a pillow at the person trying to wake them up every hour."

Max shrugged, looking entirely unapologetic. "You shouldn't have said I was being cranky," he said with a sly grin.

Ariel rolled her eyes again, a hint of fond irritation in her expression. "I was only being honest," she said dryly. "You were being grumpy and moody and impossible to deal with."

Max feigned offense once more. "Grumpy and moody?" he repeated, sounding offended. "I wasn't being grumpy and moody! I was just...in pain. And tired."

Ariel shot him a disbelieving glance. "That's just a nice way of saying grumpy and moody," she pointed out. Gianpiero quietly chuckled, finding their banter quite entertaining.

Max pouted, his lower lip sticking out in a pouty expression that would have look silly on most people. On him, it looked...well, adorable. "I was being justifiably grumpy," he protested, and yet there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Quite frankly, GP had expected Max to be...well, furious about the crash. About the fact that he had had pole position and would have probably stoo on the podium if not actually won....

GP would’ve been furious if he were in Max’s shoes...but Max wasn’t angry. He seemed more resigned than anything, and strangely...comfortable. GP had to wonder if it was because of Ariel’s presence by his side.

There was something about Max when he was around her, like a transformation from his usual hotheaded, fiery self, to a calmer, gentler version of himself

"You seem surprisingly calm for someone who was on track to win the race before you were shunted off the track," GP noted, fixing Max with a curious glance. "I thought you would be angrier," he said carefully.

GP studied Max curiously, noting the slight wince of pain on his face as he shifted on the bed. Max's response was a nonchalant shrug, coupled with a grimace. "Oh, I am angry," he replied gruffly, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "But somebody really smart has to me, that being pissed off won't change anything. It's not going to un-crash the car or heal my head."

GP couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle at that. Max’s grumbling response combined with the way he looked so disgruntled and resigned was rather amusing. "Somebody really smart, huh?" he repeated, looking pointedly at Ariel.

Max’s mouth curled into a half-smile, and he shot a sideways glance at Ariel. "Yeah, somebody really smart," he said with a hint of emphasis. Gianpiero noticed the way Max looked at her, a mixture of affection and something else in his eyes.

"And she also reminded me that nothing would hurt Mercedes more than to lose the championship," Max continued. “Looking back won’t help me win either.”

GP’s eyebrows rose. "So...you're going to win the championship out of spite?" GP inquired, half-joking.

Max shrugged, a wicked grin on his lips. "Why not?" he said, his voice almost nonchalant. "If it'll really piss Mercedes off, I'm all for it. Plus, I get a championship. Win-win situation, right?"

"Powered by spite and Red Bull," Ariel said with some amusement.

Gianpiero chuckled at that, watching as Max nodded in agreement. "Nothing like a little spite and Red Bull to fuel a championship win," he agreed with a grin.

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grison-in-space · 3 days ago

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Y'all if you really need this to be all queer all the time I can support that but it's not that fucking hard to do. Make em both bi or pan or nonbinary or any number of fun things. The notion of a romance founded in mutually seeking an abortion and the intimacy of sharing one's desires for the present and maybe the future against the backdrop of ensuring one another's freedom from parenthood (at least, right now) is too good a concept to let go.

Couple of Texan kids, say. I spent a long time there, it's a natural pick for me. They're in college and they go to one of those keggers the frats throw, meet at a wild party as college kids, maybe they're freshmen or sophomores. Call em Sam and Kris so I don't have to specify which character has which genitals.

Sam's a nervous anxious perfectionist with huge career plans and big dreams who has life planned out in exhaustive (and exhausting) detail, only even at this party because a friend insisted on a break between exam rounds. There's a lot of internal pressure built up that's going to explode the moment Sam relaxes. Kris is a little unformed, not sure what major to pick or what career to settle on, still trying to work out what kind of person might be good to grow into, good at surface connections but kind of lonely for something deeper. The frat parties are familiar and comfortable—Kris knows how they work and how they run, and if you're friendly and you smile at people and maybe hook up now and again you get to feel REALLY connected and useful, and that's a heady feeling. They meet at the party Sam's friend picked out and immediately feel the attraction and hook up while totally shit faced—huge aberration for Sam, maybe not so much for Kris. There's a condom, but it breaks. It doesn't seem like a big deal in the moment, but in the morning, that's another story.

Sam is panicked. A baby is going to derail all their careful plans and their self control, but you can't not step up to take care of a baby. Ohhhhhh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, what do we do? Kris is quiet as they consider the mess and the possibilities. Shit. Shit shit shit. They maybe exchange numbers and withdraw for a minute until someone's period is late. They might try to find plan B but neither of them is entirely sure where you buy that shit and it takes a few days to find out, by which point it's too late. And then the period fails to show up, and it fails to show up, and the pregnancy test reads positive, and they're running out of time...)

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

IF SAM HAS A DICK: they are a moral and ethical enough person that they do not consider abandoning Kris as an option if the pregnancy goes to term. They may propose marriage or coparenting as a potential option but they are clearly terrified by all possible options.

Kris is touched and kind of flattered. They're not sure whether they want kids or not, but now doesn't feel like a great time with everything so up in the air. Anyway, Sam is hot but used diapers and vomiting do not sound hot at ALL right now, and Kris's parents are kind of distant and definitely aren't going to be any kind of useful. They broach a preference for an abortion, Sam sags in shocked relief, and then starts talking about figuring out how to pay for it—not what Kris expected—and making plans to skip classes and talk to teachers to figure out the logistics. Oh, Kris thinks, feeling warm and fuzzy: Kris expected to be on their own to fix this, but Sam is acting like this is both their responsibility equally to resolve. They've never felt cared for like that. Oh...

IF KRIS HAS A DICK:

Sam is hyperventilating over the pregnancy test results and acting as if going to one party doomed them for all time, and Kris inexplicably kind of wants to hug them? Shit happens sometimes. They ask tentatively what Sam actually wants as Sam starts collapsing under the weight of the impending ruin of their life and how disappointed "everyone" will be and all the bad things that might happen, and Sam whips their head over and stares for a second in astonishment before saying, huntedly, "I want for none of this to be happening!"

"Oh, okay. Do you want an abortion?"

"I can't afford to on my own, I'm going to have to ask my parents for extra money and they are not going to be happy. Shit, shit, shit, I'm going to be paying for this until the end of time, I don't have time for this—" and Sam bursts into tears. Kris feels bad and, like, look. Kris likes to help people anyway, and it's not like this situation isn't equally Kris's own fault. So they offer to help Sam figure this out and pay for the whole thing—they've got a job at a bar that can cover it—and they help Sam calm down and explore some options so that together they can find a place to get an abortion. They offer to drive, too: that means they don't have to wait as long on a bus or something but Sam can study from the passenger seat. It's not like any of Kris' classes require a lot of effort; psychology is good for that much. Let's make a day trip out of it.

Sam, who is used to having to do everything on their own, is feeling really cared about and seen right now. And, well, Kris is really hot...

There you go. It's a fucking romance. Deal with it.

there's an extremely niche plot in romance fiction wherein our invariably heterosexual leads fall in love after a night of passion leads to an unplanned pregnancy and they're now bound together by an impending child. I cast no judgment on anyone who enjoys this, but since I'm an evil gay and this is my personal nightmare scenario I want to see a zany romance novel premised on the opposite resolution: a couple falls in love while on a whirlwind roadtrip to obtain a legal abortion

#911 brain rot for example: imagine Eddie and Sharon's relationship in the world where there isn't Chris #Or at least not there right THEN anyway #Imagine the future where they both get to go to college and be their full selves #Find out who they are to one another and who they actually want to be #It's a very different story EVEN IF YOU BRING CHRIS IN LATER #I've been the accidental kid who sparked a marriage and changed everyone's lives quite young okay?#And not even THAT young #It's hard to not have opinions about that when you know how much parenting can cost things about people's dreams and careers and lives #Especially for women #An abortion is a gift of time

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thesummerstorms · 2 days ago

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You know that conversation you can have with Emmrich where he asks what your plans are for your body when you die?

I think Arsinoë accidentally horrified him. Not by clinging to non-Nevarran ideals about cremation, but by telling him she never thought anyone would care that much one way or the other.

She would be dead, so she wouldn't care. And honestly, a majority of compradi die as Fledglings without graduating; she thinks their bodies were probably burned (since you have to do something with bodies) but they certainly don't have funerals, so it certainly wasn't worth worrying about then.

Emmrich interjects, trying to wrangle his own shock long enough to point out that she's not a Fledgling now, so surely...?

Well if she dies now, Arsinoë all but shrugs, it would depend on the circumstances, wouldn't it? She isn't someone important like a Talon or the scion of an established Crow family. She certainly isn't Caterina Dellamorte, who warrants something verging on a State Funeral.

If she died, there is still a non-zero chance it would be at another Crow's hands, in which case it's anyone's guess what happens after.

If she dies honorably fulfilling a contract, then Viago might feel obligated to do something if he isn't pissed off at her failure and she's isn't still in Exile. He's her mentor, so probably he would manage at least a small pyre. Maybe even a flower or two for the flames if he's letting himself feel sentimental. Teia would probably be there because Viago was.

But just as often, when a contract goes wrong, there's no time to go back for the body. The mark get ahold of it, or whoever's left on the contract has to focus on survival rather than the dignity of a corpse that can't feel any of it.

But really, none of that would matter to Arsinoë, would it? She'd be off wherever dead souls end up going, or maybe in oblivion, who knows. She doesn't have any family to be horrified by her corpse unless you count Viago, who is Fifth Talon, has bigger things to worry about, and will get over it.

But anyway, why do you ask, Emmrich?

Emmrich is too aghast to answer clearly at that point because every single point of Arsinoë's answer goes so deeply against everything that is ingrained in him as part of the Mourn Watch, from the belief that a corpse just doesn't matter to her sincere belief that no one would care enough about her for any particular mourning rights.

And the thing is Emmrich does care. It's his professional duty to care, but he's also become fond of his young friend and he cannot handle imagining that she could die on this mission or the next and potentially receive no rites at all.

Cue Emmrich starting to plan how he's going to have Rook interred in the Grand Necropolis when the time comes. It may involve some string pulling, especially if (hopefully) she dies not on this mission but in the distant future, and even more so if he precedes her and has to leave the job in one of his colleague's hands. But Maker help him, there will be a plan and her death will be respected.

When it comes to light, Neve is uncertain and a little weirded out, but also a little offended by all this. She's fallen in love with Rook, but even before that, the respect between them would have warranted a pyre and Arsinoë's name on the Wall of Light if there was no one else to arrange things. Is this why she's never asked about what happened after Varric-

Lucanis is horrified by the idea of Arsinoë as one of the spirit-possessed skeletons in the Necropolis or one of the jewel-eyed skulls in its many niches; he snaps at Emmrich about Nevarran obsession and respecting Rook as Antivan.

Emmrich refuses to budge. She expected the Crows to do nothing for her. She deserves better, deserves to be remembered, even if she isn't Nevarran.

Lucanis seems fully stunned by the idea that Rook believed this in the first place, given Viago's attachment. Given Lucanis's own growing feelings. Emmrich does soften a little bit when he sees that Lucanis truly didn't realize, but he also doesn't fully divert his plans.

Gathering a grave-dowry is normally left to a lover or family member if the deceased was themselves unable, and Emmrich is neither. But needs must, and though his friend now seems attached to Neve and Lucanis, hearts can be fickle. A plan is better. So he puts away small things here or there, eyes which of Rook's enchanted rings and amulets she seems to favor just in case.

It almost helps him live with the knowledge that Arsinoë believed she would die unmourned. Almost.

#Emmrich Volkarin #Lucanis Dellamorte #Neve Gallus #Rook de Riva #Arsinoë de Riva #Viago de Riva #Rook #Crow Rook #DATV Spoilers #Mostly implied but if you catch it it's a big one #mourning rights and death mentioned but IDK how to tag exactly #long post #neve x rook #rook x neve #lucanis x rook #rook x lucanis #rookanis #neve x lucanis is there off screen but not in the text

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tinybojeregifts · 3 days ago

Text

Best laid plans

notes: this prompt, a bojere kiss under the mistletoe, was originally sent to @frikatilhi who set it free and tipped me off. tilhi's idea of where to go with the prompt was so delicious i kind of stole that too, so all hail tilhi for the original idea! this got quite long so under the cut it goes.

As soon as Bojan saunters off into the backroom of their rehearsal studio with Jere, Jure jumps into action. Jere has been in Slovenia for nearly a week now, Bojan has made zero progress in confessing his love for the man, and Jure is getting tired of the situation. Something needs to change and he has the power to kick start that change.

"Psst! Guys, guys. Look what I got", he whispers dramatically and whips out the secret treasure.

Jan, Kris and Nace gather around, looking at him and his offering curiously.

They stare at it in silence for a good while.

"A.. twig of some sort?" Nace declares.

Jan sighs and shakes his head.

"Jure you really can't resent us for calling you a cat if you keep dragging random twigs and leaves in from your nature adventures and expect us to find them exciting", he tuts, Kris nodding along.

Jure feels like slapping them but he controls himself.

"No, you absolute waffles, it's a mistletoe", he snaps, waving the precious find in front of his bandmates.

"Ohhhh, right."

"Right, a mistletoe."

"Of course."

"But.. why?" Kris dares to ask, Jan and Nace gesturing wildly to indicate they had the same question.

Jure cannot believe how slow and, frankly, idiotic people he has chosen to spend all his time with.

"The Christmas thing? Kissing under a mistletoe?" he says, holding the twig in question above his head and makes a kissy face.

"Right, like in the movies", Nace knows.

Now they're getting it, Jure is sure.

"Exactly", Jure confirms.

"And..?" Jan asks.

So, they are not getting it.

"Isn't it obvious? We get Jere and Bojan under it and BAM they have to face their feelings for each other", Jure whisper shouts, only just managing to keep his excitement from bubbling over.

As if on cue, Bojan and Jere burst into a giggle fit in the other room.

Realisation lights three faces in front of Jure.

"Now you're talking! I like this idea", Nace whoops.

"Could work! And they need the help", Kris agrees.

"Bojan is unbearable", Jan shakes his head.

"And having Jere here, around the holidays.. it's been extra unbearable," Kris continues, clearly haunted by the past week. Bojan and Jere have been practically glued together since Jere landed, and they never stop laughing. Neither one of them is that funny, of that they can all be sure, but the boys in the band have long realised that the constant giggle fits are just an excuse for the two to touch each other - how they figured that platonic friendly laughter comes with caressing each others faces and bodies is beyond any other Joker Out member, but they've had to accept the fact that Bojan and Jere are two members of the same species that have found each other against all odds and this is simply part of their mating rituals.

Mating rituals that are starting to turn into a never ending nightmare for everyone else that needs to stop. Now, if it's up to Jure. And it is, he decides.

"Is the mistletoe a thing in Finland?" Nace asks.

Jure stops.

"I don't know? But surely they'll get it, right?"

They must get it. Everyone knows the mistletoe, right? Except Kris, Jan and Nace who did not recognise it, but that's because they are stupid idiots, unlike Jure. And hopefully Bojan and Jere. Which might be a lot to ask.

"Bojan has definitely seen enough romantic movies to get it", Kris says, with the voice of a man who has been in the trenches. Jan pats him on the back as the band holds a moment of silence for the sacrifices Kris has made as the roommate of a man desperately in love with his best friend.

"So we're doing this?" Jure asks after an appropriate time of respecting Kris' struggle.

"We're doing this."

🩵

Snow dances in the air as Bojan and Jere make their way towards the Joker Out studio only a couple of nights before Christmas.

"You guys have so many Christmas parties", Jere chuckles, looking at Bojan with his big bright eyes that make him want to drop down on one knee (or two) right there and then.

Bojan has to look away. The whole week with Jere has been simultaneously the best and the worst week of his life. Having Jere near him makes it easier to breathe. Jere makes colours brighter, sounds clearer and flavours tastier.

Jere also makes Bojan incredibly horny, and nights lying next to Jere (who is as shirtless asleep as he is awake) trying to hide his rock hard boner count towards the list of things that have made the week almost unbearable.

"Yeah I didn't know about this one either!" Bojan laughs, and it's true. They guys had very mysteriously invited him and Jere for "A Special Celebration" only the night before.

"Seems like the guys wanted to throw you a special Christmas party and decided to leave me out of the loop, too."

Jere giggles, which to Bojan sounds like a choir of angels and the gates of heaven opening.

"They know you. They know if Bojan know, Jere find out", Jere says, and quickly brushes his hand against Bojan's arm.

Bojan pretends to be offended by the words and unaffected by the touch that actually sends his mind into overdrive. He clutches his chest dramatically, which sells the offense and calms his racing heart.

"Heey, that's not- nah, who am I kidding, it's true", he laughs, as Jere practically keels over in laughter. Bojan knows he's nowhere near as funny as Jere likes to act, but he cannot help but fall just a little bit deeper for the man every time he laughs at whatever it is Bojan has said. Jere is sweet like that, always hyping up his friends.

The laughter fades but the bright smile stays, as once again Jere turns those sparkly eyes to Bojan.

"But Bojan, I have to say. I'm so happy. Best decision coming to Slovenia this Christmas. Joker boys and you are so nice to me."

Jere stops and grabs Bojan's hand. For a fleeting moment they both just look at their joint hands, until Jere makes a show of hugging Bojan's arm to his chest like a cuddly toy, giggling happily as he does. Bojan wonders if Jere can feel his racing pulse.

"Jere, we've loved having you here. I- I've really loved having you here", he whispers, out of breath for reasons he cannot understand, but might have to do with his heart trying to leave his body.

Jere drops Bojan's arm but does not let go of his hand. The giggle has once again died down and been replaced with the softest, most sincere smile Bojan has ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

"I love being here. With you", Jere says quietly and looks at Bojan, almost expectantly.

Bojan's mouth feels dry. Sweet innocent Jere doesn't realise what his eyes can do to a man.

Bojan has no idea what Jere expects him to say, but has to say something.

"You, uh. You have snow on your eyelashes", he manages to breathe out.

"I look pretty?" Jere asks, batting his eyes at Bojan with yet another soft giggle that makes Bojan's knees buckle. He needs to get a grip.

"Hah, uh. Yeah! So pretty, pretty like a princess," he laughs, desperately.

Jere smiles, once again so damn sincere.

"Thank you Bojan. We go inside and see if princess find prince at party?" Jere tugs at Bojan's hand.

Bojan chuckles.

"I'm afraid this party is all toads, Jere. Five toads and a princess."

🩵

"Bojan?" Jere whispers as they are throwing their coats on the pile of four other coats in the corner. The studio has been quite haphazardly decorated with Christmas ornaments, and there is faint jazzy Christmas music playing to set the mood.

"Yes? Why are we whispering?" Bojan replies but takes the whispering as an excellent excuse to lean closer, until he can feel Jere's breath on his neck. It gives him goosebumps.

"I have.. sensitive question. I don't want sound rude", Jere says, looking worried.

"O-okay?" Bojan whispers, confused, and grabs Jere's hand. To ease his worries, of course.

Jere lowers his voice even more.

"Why is there some twig taped to door to back room?"

Bojan is one thousand percent sure he did not hear that right.

"Huh?" is all he gets out.

"There, look. Up, on top of door", Jere whispers, nervously, as he points above the backroom door.

And sure enough, there is something green taped to the wall near the ceiling.

It takes Bojan, a connoisseur of romantic comedies, approximately 0.76 seconds to realise that, number one, it's a mistletoe, and number two, the boys are up to something. Probably something to do with him and Jere. He knows they know. He knows he's obvious. He cannot help it.

"Oh. Oh. That's - that's the guys being.. them again, don't worry about it", he stammers, his only relief being that Jere is clearly not as well versed in American romantic customs as he is.

Jere lets out a breath, looking relieved, squeezing Bojan's hand.

"Okei. I think maybe its Slovenia thing and I'm rude if I don't know", he laughs.

Bojan shakes his head.

"It's definitely not a Slovenian thing. This is a Jure, Jan, Kris and Nace thing", he reassures.

"Okei, good", Jere giggles, pulling Bojan with him to yet another fit of hysterics over nothing at all.

There's a clang in the backroom and three voices shushing.

"Bojan, Jere? Is that you guys?" Jan's voice calls.

"We can hear you!" Kris adds.

"Why don't you guys.. Why don't you come in?" Jure says in a voice that Bojan immediately recognises as trouble.

"Yeah, Bojan why don't you show Jere in, show him our back room," Nace adds, failing miserably at sounding casual, not least because Jere has been in the back room multiple times by now.

Bojan is not going to let them ambush Jere into an embarrassing moment, no. He will protect Jere from the antics of his horrible bandmates and their childish sense of humour.

And also maybe protect his own heart in the process, because he's not sure he could survive a kiss that leads nowhere. Getting a taste of his dream, only to go back to being brrraders? He is sure he could actually die and become the talk of the medical world. "Man dies of brozoning", now there's a headline.

But mostly, of course, it's about protecting Jere from his awful, terrible, horrible bandmates.

"Jere, go on in. I need the bathroom, I'll be right there," he pats Jere on the back and heads in the opposite direction.

"Okei!"

Jere steps into the room only to be met with four excited grins that fall as soon as he stops.

"Hi guys!" Jere greets, trying to ignore the suddenly confused faces.

"Where's Bojan?" Jure asks, alarmed.

"Toilet", Jere explains.

All four guys deflate, disappointed.

"Damn", Jan sighs.

Jere is starting to feel a bit offended.

"Why..?" he starts, knowing he sounds a bit hurt.

The guys seem to realise this too, as they hurry to school their faces back into friendly expressions.

"No reason! What would you like to drink?" Jure asks as he pulls Jere in by the shoulders.

Jere starts to relax.

"I think you maybe don't have glögi", he laughs.

The guys look at each other, clearly pleased with themselves.

"Funny you should mention!" Jure can't hide the grin that takes over his face.

"We knew it's your favourite -" Nace starts.

"Because Bojan keeps telling us", Kris interrupts, rolling his eyes.

"So we looked it up -" Jan continues.

"And thought we could probably make something like that!" Nace concludes.

"Sooooo, come taste the brand new Joker Out Glu- glonki?" Jure declares, holding bottles of red liquid in both hands.

"Glönki," Nace tries.

"Glöggi," Jan corrects.

"It's glögi. And thank you guys, you are.. really, my brothers", Jere says, hand over his heart, getting a choir of awws in return.

"Anything for you, Jere. Come taste!" Jure beckons and they all gather around the table covered in glasses and bottles.

"A generous pour for the man of the hour, there we go", Jan declares as he pours Jere a big glass of their red concoction.

Jere accepts it happily.

"Thank you! This look good, look like real glögi! I taste now, okei."

Jere takes a big gulp of the drink and regrets it immediately, as what must be pure alcohol threatens to burn his throat from the inside.

"Soo, what do you think?" Jure asks, as the guys look at him expectantly.

Jere tries his best not to cough and forces a smile on his face.

"It's - ugh, sori - it's very strong, whoo. What you put in here?" he laughs.

The guys look mischievous.

"Some juice, some spice -" Nace starts.

"Some vodka, you know, the basics of glöggi", Kris concludes.

"Glögi", Jere corrects.

"Glöngi", Jure tries.

"Glögi", Jere demonstrates.

"Glöögi", Jan offers, just as Bojan finally walks in.

"Hey Jerč, trying to teach the guys Finnish?" he says.

Jere spins around, delighted. It's not that he doesn't like the other boys, no. They are his brothers, of course. It's just that, well, he is in love with Bojan, and while he is still trying to figure out if confessing that would lead to happy ever after or losing touch completely, he'll take any moment he gets with Bojan in the meantime.

"Bojan! Joker boys make own glögi for me", he says, showing Bojan his glass.

"Oh did they. How nice of them", Bojan smiles and comes to stand next to Jere, immediately throwing his arm over Jere's shoulders.

Jere is once again hit with the realisation that Bojan is quite possibly the most beautiful human on the planet. It's a realisation that hits him seventeen times a day, on average. Bojan has such a beautiful smile - the way his eyes turn into small crescents makes Jere lightheaded. It's like his eyes are celestial bodies and Bojan himself the universe, and Jere just a small and tiny space traveler, trying to discover the wonders of this universe of his.

"Isn't it, Bojan", Jan's voice shakes Jere out of his thoughts and back into present.

"You're not the only one around here who cares about Jere", Kris says, snarkily. Jere knows they all care about him but there is no reason to be mean to Bojan about it. Bojan is, after all, probably only responding to the attention he gets from Jere. It's Jere who should be more equal. Not that he will.

"We wanted to make him feel at home", Jure explains and that does make Jere feel very grateful.

"So thoughtful! How's the glögi, Jerč?" Bojan asks, pronouncing the word with ease that makes Jere giggle delightedly.

"Bojan language genius, you say glögi perfect! It's.. good. Strong," he says, carefully, taking a tiny sip of his drink.

Bojan's eye roll is epic.

"Right. Of course it is. These toads have a generous pour," he jabs and Jere bursts into hysterics.

"What did you just call us?" Kris asks, appalled.

Bojan waves his hand dismissively.

"An inside joke, you wouldn't get it."

The guys all sigh in unison.

"Oh great, another Bojan and Jere exclusive," Kris says drily.

"Can't wait to hear this one repeated over and over again!" Jan mumbles.

"Well, maybe you deserve it," Bojan smiles and lets go of Jere, much to Jere's dismay.

"Rude," Nace notes, as Bojan saunters past them on to the tiny sofa at the back of the room.

He pats the space next to him and looks at Jere.

"Come Jerč, come sit over here. Let's get cozy."

Jere practically runs to the sofa, parks himself next to Bojan and glues their sides together. Bojan throws his arm around Jere and pulls him close.

For reasons Jere can't quite comprehend, the rest of the guys look extremely put out. They wanted him to feel at home and well, he might not have said it out loud but home is where the heart is, and his heart is with Bojan.

"Janči, pour us a round of that glööni," Kris says, and Jere suspects he said it wrong on purpose.

"You know, it's actually surprisingly tasty," Jure comments sipping the drink with a straw.

🩵

"Guys, emergency meeting!" Jure hisses at the other three guys, pulling them all into a corner of the back room.

"Really Jure, emergency?" Kris asks unimpressed.

Jure gestures at Bojan and Jere, still sitting on the sofa pressed close together, chattering away using voices so low only they can hear, and words only they can understand.

"They've parked their butts on the sofa and haven't moved in damn near an hour. If we want to get them under the mistletoe, we have to do something. Also Janči, do we have more gölni?" Jure whispers.

Jan nods and lifts up a new bottle.

"Yes, give me your glasses. You know, in hindsight placing the mistletoe over the door that leads to the main hangout space really wasn't that smart. What reason would they have to be going in and out?" Jan questions as he fills their glasses.

"I don't know, to get to the bathroom?" Jure shrugs. He doesn't appriciate his methods being questioned.

"Together?" Kris asks.

"I would not be surprised at this point to be honest, if they wanted to hold hands while one of them pees", Nace mumbles.

"You have a point", Kris admits.

"So what do we do?" Jan asks, as they sip away at the glögi.

"We could ask them to go get something? From outside?" Jure suggests, forever the one who has to keep things going.

"Like what?" Kris questions, because that's all he can do, apparently, and Jure is not happy about it.

"Ummm... pinecones?" Jure says.

"Jure. What. Pinecones?" Kris, the question asker asks.

"I don't know, I'm riffing here guys!" Jure whisper shouts frustrated, nearly spilling his precious glögi all over the floor.

Nace sighs and puts his glass down on the table behind him.

"Guys, there is no need to go all the way outside. Let's just get them to the actual studio space. We'll play Christmas songs or something. You know, live music for the party. We are a band, after all," he points out.

The other three stare at Nace. Jure has to hand to him, for once one of the others has a good idea.

"Oh, right. We have instruments", Jan says.

"Yeah, that's.. actually a really good idea, Nace", Kris pats Nace on the back.

Jure takes charge, as he must.

"Right! So now all we have to do is make sure they walk through the doorway together. And preferrably slowly enough to point out the mistletoe", he says, rubbing his hands together.

"That shouldn't be too difficult! Let's go."

🩵

Bojan wonders how long he can keep his hand in Jere's hair before it becomes weird. Jere doesn't seem to mind. Those bright eyes haven't eased up for a minute, and Bojan feels hot. He wonders if Jere can feel it, if his fingers are heating up Jere's scalp.

He still doesn't want to move his hand.

But he needs a distraction.

"So you've enjoyed your time here?" he asks.

"Yes, so much! Slovenia is very beautiful place", Jere smiles.

If Bojan wasn't already completely gone on the man, this moment would surely seal the deal. Something about the way Jere speaks about his home country makes Bojan melt.

"Isn't it? I'm so glad you got to see it", he says quietly.

"Very fitting", Jere muses, still smiling. Bojan is confused.

"What is?"

"Beautiful country, beautiful Bojan. Make sense", Jere says, and turns to look Bojan straight in the eyes.

Bojan's heart skips a beat, or two. Or three. He might be having a heart attack. He takes a sip of his wine. Or maybe a gulp, just to calm himself down.

Sometimes he does have to wonder, if maybe there is a chance Jere likes him back. It's moments like these, when Jere calls him beautiful, or things like my love, my man, fire and water, and other such things Bojan has not heard much in a platonic context before, that make him think that perhaps he has hope.

But then that could just be Jere being Jere. The man who charmed Europe. He is a charmer, after all. So Bojan tells him as much.

"Oh you, you're such a charmer", he says and chuckles, waiting to see how Jere reacts.

Jere giggles, as usual.

"So.. Princess Charming? Princess Charming and five toads?" he laughs, almost spilling his glögi all over the two of them.

"Now that's a movie!" Bojan joins the laughter, relieved for the chance to close his eyes and stop drowning in the blue ocean of Jere's eyes for a second.

"But they are not really toads", Jere sobers up, and puts his hand on Bojan's chest.

Bojan's brain short circuits. As he forces it to reboot and update its firewalls, he manages to respond to Jere in a completely and totally normal, not at all breathy voice.

"No?" he says.

Jere starts patting his chest, timed to his words.

"Not how story go! They are five pretty guys. Maybe one is even prince.." he finishes and drags his hand down Bojan's chest.

Bojan is about to spontaneously combust.

"Oh- " he opens his mouth, but does not get a word out before Jure claps his hand together resulting in a clap that should not be humanly possible.

"OKAY THEN, listen up you couch potatoes!! Next up at the Joker Out Christmas Party... Christmas jamming!" Jure announces excitedly.

"So why don't you make your way through to the studio space -" Nace gestures at the door, as all four guys smile widely at the two men on the sofa.

Bojan knows exactly what's going on. There is no way they are going to trick him and Jere into walking under the mistletoe, no sir! Bojan will protect Jere from these fiends if it's the last thing he does.

"Find a comfy place on the sofa.." Jan is joining Nace in gesturing at the door.

"And enjoy some tunes!" Kris concludes and looks at Bojan, expecting him to get up.

Bojan puts on his best unimpressed face.

"What, we don't get to play?" he asks.

The guys clearly hadn't thought of that.

"Well, Bojan- " Nace starts, but Bojan won't let him finish.

"I wanna see Jere play the drums. Will you play, Jerč?" he turns to Jere, who nods excitedly.

"Sound like fun! Yeah let's play!"

Bojan very smoothly and not at all clumsily starts to detach himself from Jere.

"Great! Jure actually got gifted some pretty cool sticks recently, I'll go find them", he says as he gets up, and quickly makes his way to the door before Jere is even standing up.

Kris tries to step in his way as Nace jumps in to grab his arm.

"No, Bojan, you stay there- no, don't go in there! Ahh, fuck."

Bojan stops right after passing through the doorway and looks at Nace with his best confused face. He is a great actor, after all.

"Huh? What's wrong with you? I'm just gonna go find the sticks, I saw them just the other day, I know where they are", he says and disappears into the studio.

"Right. Of course you do. Well, come on Jere. Let's get to jamming", Kris says as he pulls Jere with him.

🩵

Jure drags his bandmates by their hands back into the backroom.

"Guys!! Emergency meeting two!!!" he hisses and this time slams the door to the studio shut.

"We know, Jure," Kris somehow manages to make his eyeroll audible.

"Good plan, shit execution! All we got was Bojan in Jere's lap on the damn drum kit and 45 minutes of them whispering and giggling, but still no lips on lips action! I have to suggest we go back to pinecones," Jure says sternly, as the guys are clearly not grasping the seriousness of the situation.

"Pinecones was never a plan!! And Jan, drinks," Kris hisses, snapping his fingers at Jan. He misses Jan's murderous glare at the finger snapping.

Jan pours Kris a lot less than everyone else.

"But we have to do something. Look at them. Bojan is mere moments away from officially changing his place of residence to Jere's lap, but all they seem to be able to do is stare at each other, whisper and blush," Jure complains, annoyed at his band mates inability to be as clever and proactive as him.

"What if.. what if we just.. let them be? Get there on their own? I mean you said it yourself, they're practically glued to each other. Maybe tonight is the night they get their shit together," Nace suggests.

Jure doesn't like that and is disappointed in Nace deciding to become lazy. No, Bojan's feelings are too big and too important to the very existence of the band, for Jure to let Bojan be in charge of them.

"Maybe it is, but more importantly, maybe it isn't. And then what?! We let them imprint on each other like ducklings in love when neither of them has the guts to do anything about it, and then Jere fucks off back to the Arctic fucking circle and we're left here with a wounded duckling whose whole world just left on a plane?" Jure rants, disappointed that he has to explain such obvious things to these fools.

"That's actually a surprisingly accurate metaphor-" Jan starts.

"Though I do have to point out that I don't think Vantaa is quite within the Arctic circle," Kris quips.

Jure doesn't have time for either of them.

"Not the point! It's fucking far away! And we can't let him leave without Bojan getting that life saving kiss first," he explains.

"So what do we do?" Nace asks.

Jure has just the plan.

"Well first of all, Jan, pour some more drinks. Second of all.. I think it's time to move that mistletoe."

🩵

Bojan has to say something. He is practically in Jere's lap, their legs entwined, he cannot just keep staring at the mans mouth. Jere must have noticed, and it's probably getting weird now.

"Jere, you, uhh.. you've got some chocolate on your face", Bojan says, gesturing towards Jere's mouth.

Jere raises his fingers to his lips, which definitely does something to Bojan's heart. And dick.

"Where? Always so clumsy",Jere mumbles as he feels around his mouth.

Bojan would very much like to close the gap between them and lick the chocolate away. And then keep going from there. Maybe lick the inside of Jere's mouth.. his neck.. his chest.. down his stomach.. towards -

No! Not the time, not the place. He will pick up from here in the shower tonight, but for now, he needs to get a grip.

"Right, uh, there." Bojan reaches as close to Jere's face as he dares.

Jere's eyes snap up to look at him.

"Can you get it?" he asks, softly.

Bojan makes a mental note of getting his heart checked out because it's starting to feel out of control. He also sternly tells his dick to stand down.

"I don't really have anything to get it with.." he whispers.

Jere holds up one finger and Bojan fights the urge to lick that too.

"Can you take my finger there?" Jere smiles questioningly.

"Yeah, sure, it's uhh.." Bojan grabs Jere's finger and starts guiding it to the elusive smear of chocolate.

"Here", he breathes and places Jere's finger on the spot.

Jere wipes at it and looks at Bojan.

"I get it?"

Bojan shakes his head amused.

"Not quite, you kind of smudged it-" he starts but Jere interrupts.

"Help me?"

Bojan didn't know it was possible to actually do the pleading eyes emoji in real life. He realises that he would do anything Jere asked him to. Anything.

"Yeah, let me just-" Bojan starts, when a loud yelp and a soft thud startle him enough to jump.

Jere is equally startled and looking around.

Their eyes land on the scene at the same time.

Nace, on the floor on all fours, Kris half on top of him, half on the floor like a ragdoll, with Jure and Jan standing on each side of Nace, frozen with their hands still up in the air, as if they were supporting an invisible weight up.

"Watafak."

"Kris?! Guys what the hell?!!" Bojan jumps up.

Nace is the first one to snap out of it.

"Kris get off me and help me up."

Kris starts to move, whining as he does.

"Guys what is going on?" Bojan demands.

Jure hurries to help Kris up and turns to Bojan.

"Nothing Bojan, nothing is going on, you- you keep Jere company we just have to.. yeah, don't worry about it", he says as he starts ushering the guys into the backroom.

"Why was Kris standing on your back, Nace?" Bojan calls after them, but Jure waves at him dismissively.

"No reason, and he's fine, he didn't fall too badly."

"My ankle..." Kris whines as he limps to sit down.

"You're fine, Krisko. Anyway! Nothing to see here, we'll be right back", Jure says as he disappears in the back and pulls the door closed.

Kris is not happy.

"And whose fucking bright idea was it to try and stick the mistletoe to the ceiling?! And Jan, drinks!" he snaps, and Jan must take pity on his ordeal as he only sticks his tongue out at Kris behind his back.

"It could have worked, I know it. Mistletoe on the ceiling, get them to dance, and BAM..it was going to work", Jure defends his plan.

"Well it didn't", Nace says dryly and Jure thinks that maybe Nace should be coming up with the plans then, since he is such an expert on what will work.

"And I twisted my ankle, guys", Kris notes.

Jure is getting tired of this no-can-do attitude.

"Krisko, your ankle is the least of our worries", he snaps and downs half his drink.

"What if I can't walk?" Kris hisses, but Jure places his hand over Kris' mouth.

"Shhh, not important!" he hisses back.

"What do we do now?" Jan asks, also not a forward thinking problem solver Jure needs on his team.

"Where is the mistletoe now?" Jure demands to know.

"Right here. Didn't stick to the ceiling but I grabbed it off the floor", Kris throws the slightly damaged mistletoe to the table.

Jure grabs it and tries to straighten it.

"Good. We're going to have to freestyle this."

"As opposed to... the preplanned stylings thus far, huh?" Jan comments, but Jure doesn't have time for him and his commentary either.

"Shut up, I'm thinking. This gölgi is honestly surprisingly great, guys, I have to say."

🩵

Bojan is deep in thought planning the most platonic and brotherly way to react to Jere practically pulling him in his lap when they sat back down, when Jere starts to speak.

"What was best part of this year for you Bojan?"

Jere swipes strands of hair away from Bojan's face, and Bojan decides (after having a small stroke) that since Jere seems to have no problem redefining platonic, he also doesn't need to worry about it, so he grabs the drawstrings of Jere's hoodie and starts fiddling with them.

"Is it lame if I say this, right now? You coming to Slovenia? Like, of course we've had an incredible year as a band, amazing shows and just unbelievable experiences, but this.. this is something super special. You're special", he says, pulling at the strings.

Jere grabs his hand and squeezes it.

"Wow, that's.. thank you. You are special too, Bojan. So special", Jere whispers quietly, and again Bojan has to wonder if maybe... but maybe not. Brothers, right?

"What about you? Highlight of your year?" he whispers in an equally quiet tone, so as to not burst the bubble they're in.

Jere smiles that heart melting smile of his.

"I have to say same.. Work is great and I am so grateful and happy. But this is new experience, with special person."

Bojan feels dizzy, and he has made sure to stay away from the homemade glögi. He has only had two glasses of wine. It was two, right..?

"Yeah?" he breathes out.

"Yes," Jere whispers directly into his ear, and that must be just because Jere has actually been sipping away at that paint thinner the boys call glögi, not because of Bojan.

Bojan shivers none the less.

"Are you going to be making any new years resolutions?" he asks, instead of asking Jere for his hand in marriage.

Jere nods. He takes a moment looking away, and then at the ceiling.

"I think maybe.. next year I try be more brave", he says, decisive with a nod.

Bojan's eyebrows shoot up.

"I think you're already super brave", he says, surprised.

Jere shakes his head and still doesn't look at Bojan.

"I want.. not be scared to say what I want say", he says, determined.

"Yeah? What do you want to say?" Bojan is intrigued.

Jere suddenly looks a bit sheepish. In fact, Bojan could swear he sees a faint blush creeping up Jere's face.

"I want.. confess something to someone", Jere whispers very quietly.

Well now Bojan has to know. Because.. A man can dream, right? And if it's not him... he still wants to know.

"Who?" he asks, barely audible.

Jere looks at him, slowly.

"... You, Bojan", Jere breathes out.

Bojan's heart is actively trying to vacate the premises through his trachea. A shiver runs through his entire body and he's sure Jere notices. Right now, he doesn't care.

Because right now, he feels, more than ever, like yes, there is a chance after all. A chance that his wildest dreams could indeed become reality.

There is a spark of hope, suddenly. The air feels electric. Maybe after all this time Jere actually really isn't the most physically affectionate Finnish man who ever lived, who chooses to channel his affections towards one platonic brother over everyone else. Maybe after all this time it is possible, that the pull Bojan feels towards Jere works both ways.

Maybe after all this time, he will hear the words he has only heard in his dreams.

Or maybe his heart is about to shatter into a million little pieces he can never ever put back together.

Either way.. he has to know.

"Me? Confess what to me?" he squeals, very attractively.

"I - " Jere hesitates and looks away.

Bojan can't take it. It's now or never.

"Yes? What do you want to confess, Jerč?" he pleads.

Jere looks at him again, emoji eyes making a comeback.

"I think... I think I like you Bojan. I think maybe.. I know I... I love you", Jere whispers.

Inside, Bojan's soul exits his body, turns into a million fireworks, puts itself back together again and returns to his body now charged with some sort of energy he has never felt before.

Outside, he stares at Jere like he is all seven wonders of the world rolled into one and turned into a man.

"Jere-" he manages to choke out.

"Is that.. okei?"

The vulnerable insecurity in Jere's voice snaps Bojan out of his transcendental out of body experiences and he rushes to grab Jere's face between his hands.

He looks deep into those mesmerising eyes and speaks from the heart.

"Yeah, yes. Yes, yes, yes, it's more than okay."

A smile that could blind Bojan spreads across Jere's face.

"Yes?" Jere asks, shy.

Bojan wants to explode.

"Yes, because I-" he starts but has to stop to close his eyes and breathe.

"Bojan?" Jere pats his hand with his own.

Bojan opens his eyes.

"I love you too", he says, determined to make Jere feel just how much he means it.

Jere's breath hitches.

"You do?" he asks, searching Bojan's eyes.

"Yes. A thousand times yes", Bojan says with confidence that can only be achieved by having your soul turn into a million fireworks because the man of your dreams said he loves you.

A tear rolls down Jere's face and Bojan hurries to wipe it away.

"Oh. Look like I find prince at this party after all", Jere whispers with a soft giggle.

Bojan's newfound confidence has indeed turned him into a storybook prince and he plays the part.

"Can I.. can I kiss you?" he asks.

Jere nods eagerly.

"Yes, please."

Bojan closes the distance between them.

On the other side of the wall, Jure is finishing his session of coaching the guys into real and true mistletoe freestylers. He's not sure they get it, but this is the team he has and this is the team he will lead.

"So, we're gonna have to be smooooth with it guys, real smooth - any more gölni left? So like.. always have eyes on the other guys and be ready to attack, okay?" Jure explains and wonders if the other guys are possibly a little bit drunk. Not him, but them.

"Yeah, be ready to take the mistletoe, be ready to pass the mistletoe, just - be ready", Kris agrees, nodding. Nace and Jan nod along.

"Okay, now. Those two have been on their own in the studio for a good half an hour now, probably whispering half flirtatious things to each other and trying to merge their souls into one or whatever it is they do. It is high time we break that tension with some mistletoe magic", Jure rallies his troops, getting whoops and cheers in return. Maybe they do get it now.

"So, we trap them, from both sides. Where ever they are, we are too, ready to hold the mistletoe over their heads," Nace concludes, and Jure has to clap. Finally, they demonstrate fighting spirit.

"They can't get away. Let's do this. Let's get our singer some tongue down his throat!" Jan shouts, joining in.

"Yes, come onn!" Jure yells.

They all jump up and immediately grab on to the table for support.

"Whoop, ha, I think I might be a bit tipsy", Jan laughs.

"Heh, yeah getting up is - oops, a bit wobbly", Kris giggles.

"We can't let that stand in our way, guys. Game faces on!" Jure declares as they keep going.

Nace is the first at the door.

"Ah, guys...?" he calls.

The others hurry behind him to look through to the studio.

"What? Oh", Jure stops.

"Huh!" Jan quips.

"What - what am I looking at here? Am I seeing this correctly or did we make gölgi strong enough to make me hallucinate?" Kris squints at the sight before them.

"They're.. making out", Nace says.

"They actually are", Jan nods.

"Wow", Kris whispers.

"Who would have guessed", Jan continues.

"Whoooho, nice!!" Jure yelps because he can't help himself.

Bojan and Jere both jump and snap their heads towards the door.

"Shhh, you interrupted them!" Nace complains.

"Oh hello guys", Bojan says with a satisfied smile, and rather than getting up from where he is sitting on Jere's lap, thighs splayed on either side of him, Bojan wraps his arms around Jere's neck and hugs him closer. He stares at his bandmates.

His bandmates stare at him.

"Don't mind us, we can just -" Nace starts to turn.

"Yeah, we don't need to be here", Jan accompanies him.

"Congrats on the.. kissing", Kris shows them both thumbs up.

"Yeah, well done!" Jure congratulates, even if he is a bit disappointed that the fight is over.

Bojan giggles and pets Jere's hair.

"Thanks! Yeah, I guess we.. got our shit together, as you put it," he smiles.

The four other guys stop dead in their tracks.

"You.. knew?" Jure asks slowly.

Bojan shoots them one of his best unimpressed looks.

"Are you asking me if I saw the mistletoe taped to the doorway and immediately knew what you were up to? Or are you asking me if I could hear the four of you getting increasingly louder with your "emergency meetings" as you drank more and more of your incredibly strong fake glögi, which I can only assume you made to get us tipsy? You know, he might not understand Slovene, but I do. And you were loud", he explains.

Four pairs of eyes stare at him, blankly.

"I'm taking that as yes he knew, guys", Jure whispers.

"We just wanted to help, Boki", Kris whines.

"Both you and us", Jan helps.

"Help us and..yourselves..?" Bojan asks, confused.

"You are annoying, Boki. So annoying", Kris explains helpfully.

"Yeah, and gross", Jan adds, as Nace, Jure and Kris nod along.

Jere starts to giggle hysterically.

"Bojan, I think Joker boys are drunk", he manages between giggles.

Bojan laughs too, shaking his head.

"They are, but they do actually mean it too. Well, lucky for you guys, we did get our shit together, and confessed our feelings for each other, so really I should be congratulating you!" he says happily.

The blank stares return.

"Th- thank you..?" Jure tries.

Bojan nods enthusiastically.

"Yeah, you got what you wanted! First row seats to us openly and happily in love. Right, Jerč?" he says and turns to Jere, who immediately knows to play along.

"We are so in love! We have to kiss all the time", Jere explains and looks at Bojan lovingly.

Bojan starts petting his hair.

"Aaaalll the time, like right now, mmh kiss me Jere, kiss me like you mean it", he sighs, and Jere surges to devour his mouth, as Bojan moans loudly.

"Okay, we get it!" Kris yells and covers his eyes.

"You can stop now", Jan pleads, but doesn't actually look away.

Bojan breaks the kiss and looks at his bandmates apologetically and very convincingly, as good actors do.

"Oh but we can't!" he pouts.

Jere shakes his head too.

"No, we maybe die!" he all but shouts.

"Or I might turn into a toad if Princess Charming here doesn't kiss me regularly and rigorously!" Bojan worries, hugging Jere's whole head to his chest.

Jere looks up pleadingly.

"Kiss me, prince! I don't want kiss a toad!" he stage whispers.

Bojan dives right in.

"Ha, ha, ha, we get it!" Jure says, unimpressed.

"There's no point guys, we're done here", Nace says and starts herding the guys in the backroom.

"Yeah, leave them to it", Jan agrees but takes one last look.

"Can we order pizza? I don't feel too good..." Kris asks.

"It's that damn glönni", Jure curses.

"GLÖGI!" comes the immediate stereo response from the couch.

"Shut up, lovebirds."

#bojere #bojan cvjetićanin #käärijä #joker out #ficlet

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queen-of-deans-booty · 21 hours ago

Text

Naughty or Nice?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: smut, fem!receiving

Summary: This year, you’re going to ask Santa for something only you have been able to give you thus far. Orgasms.

Square Filled: Christmas (2021) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Normally, the mall is a place you and your friends avoid during the holiday season, but you heard that they were hosting auditions for Santa this year. Rumor has it, that someone super attractive got it. Again, you’re not one to go man-hunting at a crowded mall with children and families running everywhere, but here you are.

Your dating life hasn’t been all that great. It mostly consists of hookups and one-night stands that can never get you to orgasm. Only your pink ice cream clit vibrator has ever been able to do the job, so you’re hoping to come here and maybe meet a willing Santa to take home. Maybe if you sit on his lap and wish for orgasms, he’ll be inclined to give you one.

It’s worth a shot.

“I can’t believe you’re going to do this,” your friend, Beth, says.

“What? Men who audition for Santa usually aren’t men from this town. They’re all married and they don’t want to take the joy away from their kids. Whoever it is, is from out of town, which means he can be hot, single, and eager for a hookup.”

“I thought you were done with those.”

“No, I am done with hookups from men who only think about themselves. I’ll be able to take one look at this Santa and know if he can jingle my bells if you know what I mean.”

Beth laughs and shakes her head. “I don’t think parents would allow their children to sit on a sexy man’s lap.”

“Only one way to find out. Come on.”

The area where kids are meeting Santa is already crowded with families, and the line is already three stores down from the start. When Dean heard about the Santa auditions, he put in his name when he was drunk. What harm would it do if he decided to be Santa for a night? On one hand, he can make a lot of children’s days by being Santa. On the other hand, he could meet a kid’s single mom or their sexy aunt and take them home. It’s a win-win.

“Okay, I thought you were joking before, but you’re really going to do this?” Sam asks his brother.

Dean pulls on the red coat and smirks at his brother. “Hot chicks, Sammy.”

“Kids, Dean.”

Dean shrugs. “It comes with the job. Just go find something to do. This shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.”

“You’re relentless.”

“Dedicated, Sam,” Dean smirks.

Sam rolls his eyes and leaves the room. He decides to head back to the motel room instead of sticking around. Dean finishes getting ready and walks out with one of the mall coordinators. As soon as the kids see him, they cheer at the thought of being with Santa even for a minute. He stays true to his character and plays the best Santa he can be for the kids also while looking out for anyone single and willing to go home with him.

“Looks to me like he’s a regular guy,” Beth says to you as you inch closer to the front of the line.

“Beth, you are married so I don’t expect you to see this but I caught a glimpse of him as he was putting his costume on. I think he was carved by the Gods themselves.”

“You’re relentless,” she rolls her eyes.

“What? I am just trying to participate in Christmas traditions.”

“You don’t even have any kids.”

“I’m practicing��?”

“By asking Santa for,” she lowers her voice to a whisper, “orgasms?”

“Yes.”

Beth laughs, and you get closer to the front of the line. Dean takes a picture with one of the little girls who just asked for a pony when he locks eyes with you. For just a few seconds, it’s like time has slowed down just for the two of you. Even from where you’re standing, you can see how green his eyes are.

“Next!” the mall attendant yells.

“Good luck,” Beth whispers and steps off to the side where the parents wait.

The mall attendant gives you a weird look, especially when you step up on the platform where Dean is. She doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it even though you’re getting some dirty looks from parents in line.

“Well, who do we have here? What’s your name?” Dean drawls when you sit on his lap.

“Y/N.”

“And have you been a good girl this year?”

You smirk when you hear the double meaning in his words.

“Oh, I’ve been a very bad girl.”

Dean’s eyes darken. “You know the deal. Bad girls don’t get presents.”

“Might you make an exception?”

He licks his lips, and you can’t help but watch his tongue. “I might. Depends on what you want.”

You lean in so that your mouth is close to your ear. You don’t need everyone in the mall to hear this.

“Orgasms.”

“Bad girl or not, I think I can help with that.”

“I’d hope you would,” you grin.

“Meet me after in front of Barnes and Noble.”

You forgo the picture and leave to give the kids what they came here for. Dean shifts in his seat to hide the erection you gave him. He’s not trying to scar any children or piss off any parents.

“Did you ask him?” Beth asks when you walk away from the place.

“Yes. God, he was so much more attractive up close. He was so… firm. I’m going to meet him after he’s done. Thank you for coming with me.”

“Anytime. I have to get back to Jared. He already started drinking eggnog without me.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know how it goes,” you wink.

You wait anxiously in front of Barnes and Noble until the very last child has had her turn with Santa. The more you’re by yourself, the more you psych yourself out. Was this a good idea? You don’t even know the man. He could be a murderer for all you know. Okay, maybe not that but he could have dark secrets in his closet.

Before you can convince yourself to leave, a man who you believe is Santa walks over to you wearing flannel, jeans, and a black jacket.

“So, have you decided if you want to be naughty or nice?”

“Whichever is more fun,” you grin.

“Naughty it is.” He holds his hand out and you take it. “I’m Dean.”

“Y/N, but you already know that.”

He even has a hot car. Once you see the shiny black Impala, you decide you’re going to milk Dean for everything he’s got before he leaves. He might very well be the best one-night stand you’ll ever have.

Dean takes you back to his motel room where Sam is reading a lore book. He looks up when the door opens, and he shakes his head when he sees his brother isn’t alone.

“Out, Sammy.”

“Dude.”

“Would you rather watch me fuck her?”

“That’s something I’m not opposed to if you’re into that sort of thing,” you say.

“No, thanks,” Sam pouts. “I’m going to get a room far from yours.”

As soon as Sam leaves, Dean pulls you into him and presses light kisses down your neck.

“So, are you going to unwrap me?”

“Damn right, I am, and I’m going to take all night to do it.” Dean lays you down on the bed and runs his hands down your legs. “Are you wet for me?”

“Undress me and find out.”

Dean practically rips your clothes away, and you don’t even think about needing them tomorrow at the moment. All you want right now is his mouth and fingers on you. Dean cups your pussy and runs two fingers through your slit to confirm that yes, you are wet and ready for him. He falls to his knees and you spread your legs open wide for him.

He grips your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed before burying his face between your legs. Some of the men you’ve been with hated going down on you, so you haven’t had a man down there in a while. Just the simple act of Dean sliding his tongue through your folds is enough to bring a squeal out of you.

“Fuck, Dean, that feels so good,” you moan and grab his hair.

“Good. I’m not stopping until you’re dripping down my chin.”

Dean massaged your clit with his tongue before sliding down to your entrance. He tongues you rapidly while rubbing your clit with his thumb. You can’t come unless your clit is stimulated, but you honestly think Dean could just lick you and you’d explode for him. Maybe you’ll test that theory later tonight when you go for another round. Dean is the kind of man you go multiple rounds with.

“Shit, Dean, that feels so good. I’m gonna come.”

“Come all over my face.”

You don’t wait another second before exploding around his tongue, and he laps up every drop you’re giving him.

“God, you taste like Heaven,” Dean moans.

He kisses your clit once before standing up. You stand and kiss him even though you can taste yourself on his lips. You undress him until you’re both naked, and he turns you so that you’re facing the bed. He gently pushes down on your back until you’re on your hands and knees, and he grips your hips and tugs you hard enough for you to lose your balance. You fall face first on the bed with your ass in the air, just how he wants you.

He grabs the base of his cock and squeezes to prevent his release from coming too soon. He pumps twice before sliding the head of his cock between your pussy lips.

“Dean, skip the formalities. Please, fuck me.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

He grabs both sides of your hips and slides into your pussy slowly so that you can feel every inch. You gasp from the stretch but he doesn’t stop until you’re completely full of him. You grip the sheets and push back into him as much as you can from your position. Dean pulls out only to slam back in, and you can’t help the loud moan from coming out.

“Fuck, Y/N, how are you so tight?”

“You feel so good, Dean,” you moan.

Thankfully Sam isn’t next door or else he’d hear the sound of skin slapping against skin and your beautiful moans.

“Rub your clit for me, baby. Get yourself closer to the edge. I want to come with you.”

You reach down and rub your clit in fast hard circles. It’s been so long that you’re approaching the edge faster than you’d thought you would.

“Fuck, Dean, I’m close again.”

“Come all over my cock.”

You do as he says and explode all around him. You squeeze his cock several times which brings Dean over the edge. He slows his thrusting to ride out both of your highs until neither of you can give anything more. He pulls out of you and falls onto the bed next to you.

“I hope you’ve got more than one round in you.”

He smirks. “Baby, I can go all night.”

You love Christmas time.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst #supernatural smut

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magics-neptunes-things · 2 days ago

Text

Mockingjay - Part 14 (Alternate ending)

Hey, it's me again!

So this is the happy ending. I have to admit that writing this one was way easier than the other one. I hope you will like it too :)

TW : Blood, mention of death and PTSD.

Chapter Before

As they both are talking and fighting, neither Ona nor Tony sees the shape of the person coming next to them. Panting, the silhouette takes some time to take their breath. The fight was hard, as expected. Both Lucy and Kayla come from career districts, they both learned how to fight during their childhood and were almost prepared for the Games.

“Lucy won’t let anything happen to me” Ona states confidently.

She’s sure about what she’s saying, everyone can see it in her eyes. Ona doesn’t blink when she looks at Tony, who seems almost amused by her.

“Do you think so? I don’t see her here for now” he laughs softly.

His laugh is empty, without any fun. He looks like a psychopath in Ona’s mind, but she thinks it’s maybe better not to push him further. He seems close to a mental breakdown.

His hand is shaking when he raises it, showing his sword near Ona’s throat. Ona flinches but doesn’t try to back off. She doesn’t want him to think that he has any power over her.

“I could kill you, right now. She wouldn’t be able to do anything against it.”

He seems so sure of himself, looking at her from above, his smirks talking for him. But Ona has never had so little respect for him since the beginning. The brunette doesn’t even want to fight against him, he’s here standing while she’s sitting on the ground. How can someone’s ego be like this?

“Do you really think so?”

Tony turns around to face the person who just talked and Ona jumps on her feet when she sees them. It’s Lucy. Tony just has time to turn around before being hit right in the face. He falls somewhere near Ona, making her fall back with him.

Ona groans when she hits her head on a tree root, right where she was already hurt. She tries to get away from Tony as fast as possible, but the boy is grabbing her legs for his dear life, trying to drag her to him. But he’s less strong with his arms than he was at the beginning, Ona hurt him there before, and she knows it.

She manages to kick him in the chin, making him go back. Ona goes back on all four, standing again when she thinks that she’s away enough from Tony. He’s bleeding from his mouth and Ona deduces that he might have bitten his tongue.

Just when he was going to jump on Ona, Lucy grabs him by the collar of his jacket.

“Don’t even think about it” she groans, pushing him away.

Lucy is smaller, but Ona has to say that with her anger and the hammer in her hand… She looks impressive. Her green eyes stay on Tony, even when she throws the bow and the arrows at Ona.

But Tony just sneers, arming his hand and his sword before talking again.

“I don’t have any problem to kill you before killing her”

“Aren’t you sick of hearing you?” Lucy snaps.

Ona sees Tony’s face becoming darker, clearly not liking Lucy’s comment. Ona can’t help but smile at Lucy’s comment, the sarcasm of the girl always making her smile. She takes advantage of this little moment to have a better look at her girlfriend. She has blood on her body but doesn’t really seem hurt. She has some cuts on her arms, but nothing seems really bad.

“I’m sick of you” he answers.

Lucy snorts this time, waiting for him to attack first. He’s turning his back to Ona and the younger girl wonders if she should take advantage of it, but it seems to her that Lucy wants to defeat Tony alone. She has something to deal with, beginning with the fact that Tony seems to want what is hers.

The fight starts and is maybe not really fair, Tony has a sword which is longer than Lucy’s hammer, in addition to the fact that he’s bigger and then has bigger movements. But Lucy still manages to hit him several times, using her smaller form to move faster than him.

That was until…

“Wolves!”

Ona scream is a little bit ignored by the two others to be honest, until Lucy spots the urgence in Ona’s voice when she talks again.

“Lucy! Wolves!”

Lucy turns to the direction Ona is pointing, before groaning when Tony takes advantage of it to hit her on the arm. Lucy groans in pain and almost throws her hammer on Tony’s face, helped by the rush of adrenaline.

Just like Ona, she saw the four wolves walking in their direction, in the form of a diamond. They are white and she would probably have found them beautiful if they weren’t explicitly looking for their next meal.

Ona is fully concentrated on the animals, forgetting Tony for several seconds.

Wrong move.

The boy, seeing Ona not far from him, raises his sword once again and hits her right in her stomach. The pain is so intense that Ona isn’t able to say anything. It’s Lucy who screams something that the brunette isn’t able to understand.

She feels someone grabbing her and holding her protectively against their breast, before the person starts to run. Ona doesn’t need a lot of time to recognize Lucy.

“It’s okay, you will be okay” Lucy keeps saying.

Ona doesn’t really understand what is happening when she feels herself being shaken. But she trusts Lucy and if she says that she will be okay, she knows that she will be. It’s only the sound of the canon who makes her open her eyes again.

Her vision is gloomy, but she still can see Lucy’s face right above her very clearly.

“Is he…” she whispers.

“Dead. The wolves…”

Lucy stops her sentence, but she doesn’t have to talk more for Ona to understand. She’s glad that the animals chose the one of the three who will give them the most fresh meat.

“I’m so cold” Ona whispers again.

And it looks like it’s starting to rain. She feels one or two drops of water on her face, seeming strangely hot against her cold skin. But when she looks at Lucy again, she understands. It’s not raining. Lucy is crying.

“I’m dying”

She can only whisper for now, her strength just not here anymore. Lucy shakes her head, but Ona isn’t sure if it’s because she’s answering her that she isn’t, or if Lucy just couldn’t stand the idea.

“It’s okay” Ona whispers. “We are going to be okay”

She concentrates all of her strength to raise her hand and softly strokes Lucy’s face. Lucy kisses her palm softly before pressing her forehead against Ona.

“Remember when I said I couldn’t live somewhere where you aren’t?”

“Yes” Ona breathes softly. “But you promised…”

“I never promised anything” Lucy shakes her head. “We live together, or we die together”

Ona looks at Lucy for several seconds, before nodding softly. She understands. She couldn’t live in a world where Lucy isn’t here either. It must be harder for Lucy; Lucy doesn’t have her family or any friends outside the arena.

“What do you have in mind?” Ona whispers.

“We can jump. Where Teagan…”

Lucy doesn’t finish her sentence, but Ona understands easily. After thinking for some more seconds, Ona nods again.

“I don’t know if I could walk, it’s a little far from here”

“I’ll carry you”

They can’t hear the wolves anymore, but there is no doubt that they are busy with whatever they are doing now. It doesn’t really matter anyway. Very carefully, Lucy picks Ona from the ground to carry her like a just married couple. It makes Ona smile softly, passing her arms around Lucy’s neck.

“I love you” Ona whispers, her face in Lucy’s neck.

“I love you too. So much.”

They stay silent during the walk, Lucy walking slowly. She’s exhausted to be honest and now they know how they will end. Together. They don’t need to rush anything.

“What are you thinking about?” Lucy asks after some minutes.

“My parents. My brother… Aitana, too”

“Do you think they will be together?”

“They better be together already”

Lucy chuckles before kissing softly Ona’s temple. Her mind goes to her family too, wondering what they are thinking about her right now. They probably aren’t proud of her, but she doesn’t care anymore.

Seeming to be able to read in her mind, Ona talks again.

“I’m proud of you, you know?” she whispers.

Lucy hums at first before looking at Ona. The younger one was already looking at her, her chocolate eyes so soft and full of love.

“I’m proud of you too” Lucy says back. “And I’m sure that your parents and the people you love are proud too. Alexia must be really proud too. You kind of win the Games after all.”

“No” Ona shakes her head. “You’re the real winner.”

Lucy rolls her eyes as they get out of the forest. They pass the starting point, Ona looking at the scoreboard. It’s strange to see that only their names are on it now. Lucy killed the most people between them both, but it doesn’t mean anything now. It isn’t important anymore.

“Are you in pain?”

Ona shakes her head once again at Lucy’s question. She feels good and almost safe in Lucy’s arms.

“I always feel better in your arms”

“You don’t need to try to charm me, you know? I’ve been in love with you for a long time already.”

“I’m not trying” Ona mumbles sleepily. “Just telling the truth.”

She takes advantage of being carried by Lucy to look around her, admiring the view for the first time. Before, she was too concentrated on the Games to find something beautiful. She remembers perfectly the building in the north of the arena, giving her a sweet feeling of being back home.

“Don’t fall asleep now, Love. We’re almost there.”

Lucy’s voice kind of wakes Ona up. She opens her eyes with difficulty, but looking at Lucy is enough to help her stay awake.

Lucy was right though, several minutes later, they were standing next to the cliff. Ona’s isn’t sure that it’s exactly where Seth tried to kill her, but the idea is here.

“Are you sure?” Lucy asks one last time.

“More than ever. You?”

“More than ever.”

Lucy smiles softly, looking at Ona with the most tender gaze ever. It makes Ona harder to breathe, and it has nothing to do with her bleeding wound.

“One last kiss?” Ona asks.

Lucy doesn’t even answer, she just softly puts her lips on Ona’s. She couldn’t say how many times they had kissed each other, but it’s still the same feeling. And she loves it.

“At three?” Lucy asks softly.

Ona nods and takes a deep breath. She’s tempted to have a look below, but she chooses to look at Lucy instead. She holds Lucy harder when the other girl starts to count, wanting to be against her as long as possible.

“One”

Lucy takes a few small steps, coming closer to the end of the cliff. Ona can hear the water near them, a sound that she finds almost soothing.

“Two”

Ona keeps looking at Lucy. Her green eyes, her freckles, even if Lucy has way less than her. Lucy is looking at her too, smiling softly. But, just before Lucy says “three”, a deep voice suddenly resonates in the arena.

“NO! STOP!”

********

Awakened by the sun coming right into her eyes, Lucy sits down suddenly in her bed, looking around her, a little lost. The dream she just had is one that she still makes from time to time. But it’s vivid, so real that it catches her every time.

“Ona?”

Next to her the bed is empty, no trace of someone alive there. It makes her heart beat faster and she doesn’t like this feeling.

“Ona?” Lucy calls again, harder this time.

She almost trips in the sheets of her bed when she gets up, and she arrives at the door at the same time as the door is open.

“Ona” Lucy sighs, before taking the younger girl in her arms.

Ona is here, seeming a little surprised by Lucy’s neediness at first before understanding that Lucy probably just had a nightmare. It happens to her too from time to time. Ona passes her arms around Lucy’s, stroking her back with her fingertips.

“You’re here” Lucy mumbles with her face hidden in Ona’s neck.

“I am here” Ona answer softly

They stay like this for a moment, Ona not wanting to break the hug. She feels that Lucy needs it, and she would never refuse a hug or a kiss to Lucy.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Ona asks with empathy.

Lucy only nods, her face still in Ona's neck. Her hairs are tickling the younger one, who has trouble not to laugh about it.

“What can I do for you?”

“Cuddles”

Lucy doesn’t really leave any choice to Ona, grabbing her from the ground to put her on her shoulder until they reach the bed. Then, she throws Ona on it before crawling on the bed too and laying on Ona.

“It’s okay, Baby” Ona says softly, playing with Lucy’s hair.

But Lucy only hums, her fingers following Ona’s scare on her stomach. She still can’t believe their luck sometimes. The organisers let them alive, the two of them. It provoked a lot of trouble for those men, but the fact’s still here. Lucy and Ona are still very alive.

They live together now, in District 8. Lucy went back to her family at first, they needed an answer from the Capitol for their request to live together. They could live in the Capitol, but it was very clear from the beginning that they will go near Ona’s family.

Everything isn’t perfect, to be honest. Lucy still has nightmares, Ona still jumps when she hears a big noise and has sometimes panic attacks too. They are both scared that someone would separate them at some point. Lucy dreams sometimes to run away, but there is nowhere to go. They are way safer here, in the house they built in District 8.

“Alexia’s pregnant” Ona says softly.

“What?”

Lucy raises her head suddenly, looking at her girlfriend with surprise paint on her face. Ona smiles, cupping tenderly Lucy’s cheek.

“Alexia is pregnant. She just told me in the letter I received this morning. The baby is due to spring”

“Pregnant” Lucy whispers, like she never heard of pregnancy before. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“They don’t know. They want to keep the surprise”

Lucy hums again, looking at Ona’s stomach thoughtfully. They left the arena four years ago and Joan already had a little girl last year. Lucy knows that she told Ona that she doesn’t want a baby, when they were in the Capitol. But right now, she has to admit that she wouldn’t be against that idea. But for that they have to go to the Capitol.

“Maybe we will have one baby too, someday” Lucy says carefully.

She doesn’t miss Ona’s surprised gaze at her. But Ona’s surprise quickly changes to a soft smile, before she grabs her face with her other hand to take her higher to be able to kiss her.

Lucy kisses her back, before kissing her cheek.

“But first I want to marry you” she says against Ona’s skin.

“You know that I’m already yours. All you have to do is ask”

It was true, she was only waiting for Lucy to propose. The dark-haired woman made clear really quickly that she wanted to be the one who would propose to the other. Ona doesn’t mind at all to be honest; she knows how much it means for Lucy.

And she will do so, several months later, after having asked Ona’s father if he would give them his blessing. She will ask Ona in their garden, during one of what they now call “stargazing session”. Of course, Ona’s answer will be yes.

And when they will welcome their little miracle almost three years after the wedding, Lucy knows that her life couldn’t be more perfect.

Perfect life, with her perfect wife whose surname she took. And now their perfect little boy, almost a clone of Ona, with his perfect name.

Jordi Teagan Batlle.

Sad Ending

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #lucy bronze #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy and ona #lucy bronze x ona batlle #ona and lucy #lucy bronze imagine #woso x hunger games

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growth-opportunities · 1 day ago

Text

Interventions with the Best of Intentions, pt. 1

[A/N] Hi all! This is sort of my first venture into long-form writing. I was inspired by a brief exchange with @biggerbagingos, so I'm sure he and anyone who follows him already knows where this is headed. Also, heads up, this is gonna deal with some extreme sizes, much bigger than what I usually write about. This is part one of probably three, maybe four if I decide to pad things out. No hard timeline but I hope this gets people excited for the future! Without any further ado...

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The routine was one that Tiffany’s friends now found to be all too familiar. When she got upset, the first thing she did was gather up her long, red hair and throw it over her shoulder. This part was expected take a few seconds as her voluminous hair could be a bit unruly and often fall in front of her pale, freckled face. Once it was done, she took a deep breath, as deep as she possibly could. A second hung in the air, a brief, momentary pause, just holding the breath inside her. Then, she shoved her face into the deep crevice, the ravine, the canyon that was her cleavage and let out a long, muffled scream. It was amusing, though they wouldn’t tell her so, to watch her heave her breasts from beneath far enough to put her head between them, but in this instance, the table she sat at provided a perfect ledge on which to rest her breasts, sparing her arms the herculean lift.

This scream was particularly deep, Valerie silently noted while sipping her bubble tea, sitting across from her buxom friend. The table was on the far edge of a small strip mall, far away from any prying eyes and with virtually no chance of anyone eavesdropping. Between the autumn air and the tea, a slight chill was creeping in. For a moment, Valerie wished she hadn’t cut her dark hair so short, feeling goosebumps spread over her neck. She drew her denim jacket tighter around her slender shoulders, glancing down at her watch. Having known Tiffany since before her gargantuan breasts had even thought about beginning to grow, she knew she could count the number of lung refills like counting the rings of a tree to figure out just how frustrated her friend was. By the time Tiffany finally emerged from her own bosom, her throat burned. Valerie took another sip of her drink, reaching across the table to grab Tiffany’s drink and offer it to her, pushing the straw against Tiffany’s lips.

“Jeez, Tiff. A four? You didn’t even scream that much when you got your homecoming dress.”

Tiffany groaned, pounding her fist against the table, sending a ripple through her bust. She snatched the cup from Valerie’s hand and took a big, angry swig, as angry as one can be when drinking a Cookies ‘n’ Cream milkshake. “That was different.” Though the drink helped, screaming had left her voice hoarse. She lifted her head just far enough to put her arms under her chin, her breasts making for a soft pillow underneath. “At least then I had someone I could yell at instead of just the vague idea of ‘my hormones’ or ‘my genetics’. And, in fairness to her, the seamstress did apologize. I can’t really blame her for not believing the measurements I sent in.” Tiffany blew a puff of air upward, pushing a few strands of her hair out of her face. “This is just…” Tiffany took another deep breath, as if she was about to aim for a five, only to let it out in a defeated sigh. “My fucking tits are already such a hassle, Val. I really don’t know if I can handle them getting much bigger. I’m gonna have to… I don’t know… carry them around in a wheelbarrow or something.”

Valerie let out a quick, wry chuckle. “Well, I’m sure you could find no shortage of guys and probably a good number of girls who would help push!”

Despite herself, Tiffany’s lips curled into a subtle smile. “I’m serious, Val! I really thought I was done growing and now… another growth spurt? My doctor told me I could literally double in size. I can’t even imagine that!” She fished one of her hands out from under her chin and lightly ran it over the upper swell of one of her tits, her oversized hoodie making them seem even softer.

“I’m already past conventional bra sizes, like, significantly. My boobs were big enough to get me out of running in gym class! Some girls are like ‘Ooh, look at me, I can almost fit half a beer bottle between my boobies’ but I could fucking bury a Stanley tumbler with room left over for another. For all of this-“ She smacked the side of her tit, the impact rippling across her bust like a waterbed. “to double? I’d struggle to reach my own nipples, Val! I already kinda do! Fuck, I’d be at least fifty percent tit. Maybe closer to seventy-five. It doesn’t help matters that I’m more suited to be the basketball than to play it.” No one in her family was particularly tall, but the growth and weight of Tiffany’s breasts had kept her at a notably short stature, only reaching five feet when standing on her tiptoes, a dangerous feat considering how front-heavy she was. Her backside had a pleasant curve to it as well, but it was completely overshadowed by the gargantuan bust sloshing in front of her.

Valerie reached out and put her hand on her friend’s elbow, trying her best to be comforting. “Hey, your body is going to do what it’s going to do. No sense in worrying too much. You’ll roll with the punches and, no matter what, you’ve got Ol’ Val sticking by your side.” Tiffany smiled at the nickname, ironic considering that Valerie was exactly one month younger.

Another sigh rolled out between Tiffany’s lips. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right! You’re right. I’m still me. I’m more than just my boobs. No matter how big they get, I’m still Tiffany.”

Valerie’s grin took on a mischievous undertone, her brown eyes shining, as she quickly moved around to the other side of the table. She nudged her friend with her elbow, dropping her voice to a low whisper. “And I know that having a pair of big, soft tits isn’t all bad, is it?” Valerie and Tiffany were very close and there were few secrets between the two. Valerie pressed her finger deep into the soft, accepting side of Tiffany’s breast. The busty girl yelped in shock, only getting one or two syllables into asking what Valerie thought she was doing before the words were interrupted by a keening whimper. Blush surged into Tiffany’s cheeks and she once again returned her face to her cleavage, this time in embarrassment and arousal rather than frustration. She made a half-hearted attempt to push Valerie away, but the way her friend wiggled her finger, playing with her breast, made it hard to think. “Hnnngg… V-val… Not here…”

An impish giggle rose from Valerie, only stopping to lean in and give her friend a quick peck on the cheek. “Just wanted to remind you that there are some upsides to these things. Remember that one night when we got drunk and you were fucking begging me so I just kept sucking and sucking and sucking and-“

Tiffany shot upright, nearly dragging her tits off the table. Her cheeks ached with blush, close to bruising. “VALERIE!” It was a barely intelligible squeak, but it got the point across, Valerie breaking into laughter. She draped her arm over her friend’s back, rubbing her shoulders.

“Easy, baby. Relax. I’m just teasing. We should probably head over to the book store before it gets too late, yeah? I’ve been waiting weeks for them to get more of the next book in the Amethyst cycle.”

The words went in one of Tiffany’s ears and out of the other without touching anything in between. The busty girl could barely concentrate. All she could think about was how it would feel to have her breasts sucked while being twice as big. She might actually lose her mind. Beneath her sweatshirt, her nipples stiffened and quivered. She swallowed. “H-huh? Oh, yeah, let’s uh… let’s get out of here.” She winced as she stood, feeling her breasts slide along the table, bracing herself for the impact when they finally slipped off the edge and slapped into her torso. The two of them took a few steps towards Valerie’s car (The Val-mobile, as she called it) only for Tiffany to stop, reaching out for her friend’s sleeve. “Hey, uh, you meant what you said, right? About sticking with me no matter how big I get?”

Valerie smiled bright, leaning over to kiss the top of her friend’s head. Their developments had led them in very different directions; Tiffany grew outward while Valerie grew upward, nearly a foot taller than her friend and a modest handful on her chest, though anyone would look small next to Tiffany. “Of course, cutie. I love you. Always have. I’m with you no matter how big you get.”

A hint of panic crept into Tiffany’s voice. “But… But what if they don’t stop? And I’m just a fucking gross titty monster and I can’t even lift them anymore and I take up an entire room with just one of my boobs and-“

Valerie’s warm hands settled on Tiffany’s cheeks, tilting her up to look at her taller, slender friend. “No. Matter. How. Big. Okay? I mean it. You’re my best friend and that’s never, ever going to change.”

Tiffany nodded, letting her eyes close while she took a deep breath to center herself. When she let it out, she looked back up at Valerie. There was silence for a moment, a strange tension between them. Tiffany opened her mouth only to close it again. On her second attempt, she got it.

“M-more like breast friend, am I right?”

Valerie blinked before busting out in laughter. “You’re such a goofball, Jesus. See? Room-filling boobs aren’t going to take away that razor wit. Now, can we go already? I have to know what Iskandar and Alexan will do when they get to Drosenia. I swear to god, if there’s only one bed at that inn, I am going to flip.”

Now it was Tiffany’s turn to laugh. “Only you, Val. Only you.” The two chatted about the series and the improbably tense situations the characters found themselves in as they trudged to the car. No matter how many times she did it, Tiffany had yet to find a way to climb into the passenger seat gracefully, flopping down into the seat and letting her bust wobble on her chest. She was the only one who ever rode in that seat, so Valerie just left the seatbelt extender in place, letting Tiffany buckle it over her vast expanse of tit. She needed the extender even with it slightly inside her cleavage. The sensitivity of her bust reared its head once again as the engine turned over, sending vibrations through her body. As Valerie began to pull out of the parking spot, Tiffany mumbled a slightly embarrassed thanks for her friend’s care and understanding. Valerie didn’t need to reply, simply patting her friend’s thigh as the two hit the road.

The window was cool against Tiffany’s cheek as she stared wistfully out of it. She was still a bit apprehensive about growing – How could she not? – But at least, now, she felt a bit more secure in what the future could hold. As long as she had Valerie, someone to support her and care for her, nothing else mattered. And who knows? Maybe Val was right. Maybe there could be upsides to being so big.

#breast expansion #breast growth #inconvenient size #inconvenient growth #long-form writing #IBI

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