#now off you go to rot with all the other wips

[corfisers]

red yeyes

[pedrospatch]

captive

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You find yourself missing your captor while he’s out on an early morning hunt with the rest of the group.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. IMPLIED PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, it’s implied her family members were also killed, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own, stockholm syndrome, reader deals with a lot of very distressing and conflicting feelings, Joel isn’t too creepy or extremely dark, but he is still not a good person, mentions of Tommy. VERY BRIEF SMUT in the form of cockwarming, daddy kink but i didn’t go overboard this time, pet names (honey, baby, babygirl, sweetheart) if i missed anything, you can POLITELY let me know because if i missed anything, it was purely accidental. minimal editing.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.

if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: i might actually throw up idk. i’ve had this itch to try dark joel and seeing as i have major writer’s block with all my other wips i decided to just scratch the itch. this is a little out of my comfort zone but i actually ended up feeling pleased with what i wrote. this is my personal take on dark/raider joel, i’m sure it is very out of character but it’s fanfiction so…yeah. here it is.

It’s the rain that rouses you from your sleep.

It beats down heavily on the remote cabin’s tin roof.

Loud. Much too loud.

You roll over, settling yourself on your side.

The mattress is old, worn, rotting beneath the sheets.

You can’t complain, though. At least you have a bed.

Everybody else is forced to sleep on the hard floor.

He always gets the room with the bed.

As his special girl, that means you always get the room with the bed too.

It’s not quite as flattering as one would believe.

He only ever wants the bedroom for one reason—to keep you behind a locked door so you can’t run.

You sigh softly and stare out the window. He’d secured that too, made certain that it couldn’t be opened from the inside.

Closing your eyes, you try and go back to sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come.

His absence is starting to bother you.

You’ve been with him for an entire season now.

You’re getting used to him.

The sound of his voice. 

The warmth of his body.

The taste of his lips.

You can’t even sleep without him next to you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, clutching the stale sheets, balling them in your fists out of frustration.

How was it possible? How could you be missing him?

He had taken everything from you.

Your family.

Your home. 

Your innocence.

He was holding you captive. He was a monster.

But a monster doesn’t keep you safe.

Doesn’t clothe you.

Doesn’t feed you.

Doesn’t protect you.

He did all of those things and more. 

Is that why you feel so empty without him beside you?

Is that why you’re no longer so certain you would run if you were given the chance to escape him?

You fucking hated him for what he’d done.

Yet here you are, aching for him to come back to you.

It’s another hour before you hear the lock clicking. 

Joel pushes through the door, quietly closing it behind him.

“Y’awake?” he asks, slipping his pack off his shoulders.

“Mhm,” you answer with your back to him. “I am.”

You hear the sound of his pack hitting the floor.

His worn leather boots being kicked off. 

His rifle being set down, propped against the wall.

“How was the hunt?”

You can feel him freeze as he’s taking off his jacket.

Getting you to willingly speak to him had always been a lot like pulling teeth. Difficult, almost impossible.

When he doesn’t respond, you roll over to face him.

There’s a swoop in your tummy.

Joel is drenched from head to toe. His blue denim shirt clings to his broad frame and his dark, graying curls are slicked back away from his face.

He’s got such a handsome face.

Monsters aren’t supposed to have handsome faces.

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re really askin’ me how the hunt went?” Suspicion laces his tone. “Why? Y’worried you won’t eat tonight?”

Of course you weren’t.

Joel Miller doesn’t let you go hungry.

When food is scarce, he makes sure you eat first. If he notices you rubbing your tummy because your portion wasn’t enough, he’ll give you his own portion.

He takes care of you.

“No.” You pause and sit up. The sheets you two share fall away from your body, leaving your soft, supple breasts on full display for him. “Just wanted to know how your morning went. That’s all.”

It’s not your tits that make his cock twitch against the zipper of his jeans—it’s the sincerity that flashes across your features, the sound of it in the tone of your voice.

You’re being sweet to him.

He clears his throat lightly.

“Went real good. Brought down a deer. Female, ‘bout a hundred pounds or so. Enough to keep all of us well fed for the next couple of weeks,” he says with a nod. “Was pissin’ rain the entire time but it was worth it. Tommy’s in the shed out back right now dressin’ it so we can get a stew started.” He pauses. “You’re gonna get a proper meal tonight, babygirl. Belly’s gonna be nice and full.”

He’s not just talking about food and you know it.

You make an effort to meet his gaze, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to do it, not when you remembered how he’d taken you away from your family—how he had carried you over his shoulder, kicking and screaming as his people raided your camp and slaughtered every last member of your group because that’s what Joel Miller had ordered them to do.

Looking him in the eye might be the one thing you will never, ever be able to do.

“It’s cold,” you murmur after a minute. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”

With a subtle nod, Joel turns around and starts peeling off his clothes until he’s completely naked. He uses an old rag to dry himself off as best as he can, although it doesn’t do much for him.

You can’t help yourself and stare—your gaze drags over the strong muscles of his back and shoulders, how they flex and ripple beneath his skin with every single one of his movements. Arousal pools between your thighs and all you can do is fucking hate yourself for wanting it, for wanting him.

“S’pretty early still,” he states, his back still to you as he runs the rag through his hair. “Y’should try to get some more sleep.”

The confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think about stopping it.

“I couldn’t sleep while you were gone.”

Surprised, he turns around.

Almost immediately, your eyes fall to his cock.

Even when he isn’t fully hard, he’s still so fucking big.

“Is that so?” Joel asks, sounding rather pleased. 

“Yes,” you say, softly. “I—I missed you.”

His lips turn upwards into a subtle, faint grin.

“Yeah?” he coos. “My sweet little girl missed me while I was gone? Hm?” Slowly, he approaches the bed. It dips slightly and the frame creaks as he plants a knee on the mattress and leans over towards you. Gently, Joel takes your chin between his index finger and thumb. “Y’need Daddy by your side so you can sleep, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you whisper, warm tears glazing over your eyes.

It’s bad enough your body welcomed him so easily.

Now your heart was starting to do the same.

And then there was your mind.

What if that stopped fighting him too?

Part of you is afraid it already has.

Joel climbs into bed, joining you under the sheets.

“M’here, my pretty girl. C’mere, honey.” He coaxes you to lay on your side and pulls you back against his chest. His skin is still damp, frigid from having been out in the elements, but somehow he’s still warm. “That better?”

“Need you closer,” you mumble, wiggling against him.

Joel groans, his thick cock hard and throbbing against the small of your back. He nips at your bare shoulder as his hand drags down the length of your body and slips between your thighs. “Christ, babygirl. Pussy’s soakin’ wet for me. Looks like she missed me while I was gone too, didn’t she, sweetheart?”

He runs his finger along your slick, silky folds.

“Daddy,” you whimper, bucking into his hand.

“Don’t worry, honey. Daddy knows what you need.”

Joel pulls his hand from between your legs.

You almost cry—you’re so fucking desperate for him. 

And you shouldn’t be. 

He reaches in between your bodies, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. Without warning, he slips it into your tight, aching cunt, sheathing himself in your warm, wet heat in one smooth stroke.

You choke out a sob.

It’s always overwhelming, that initial stretch.

That fullness, the feeling of him being in your belly.

“S’alright, sweetheart. S’alright. I know you can take it,” he soothes you. “You’re such a good girl for me. Always take my cock so fuckin’ well. So good for me, baby. You feel better now that Daddy’s cock is buried inside your pretty little pussy?”

He drapes an arm around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“Yes,” you breathe, placing your hand on top of his.

Joel feathers a kiss onto your neck.

“Go to sleep, babygirl. M’here. Ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he promises you.

That shouldn’t be a comfort to you. But it is.

You close your eyes, your fingers subconsciously lacing together with his as you start to drift.

Cunt full of his cock, you fall asleep in your captor’s arms.

divider credit to @saradika🤍

[kakujis]

ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.

and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.

synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.

warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.

ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k

@enchantedforest-network

an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.

gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back. 

but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you. 

he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad. 

imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him. 

“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.” 

he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest. 

the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility. 

you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.  

“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!” 

but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right? 

you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction. 

for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root. 

“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”

ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually. 

you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t. 

he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.” 

“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door. 

he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights. 

gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles. 

when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.

hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening. 

maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know. 

there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.

okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart. 

”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.” 

to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that. 

he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.

his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow. 

“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face. 

a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away. 

the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you. 

“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind. 

he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely. 

you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass. 

his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin. 

hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely. 

“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs. 

the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy. 

you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet. 

he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying. 

it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.

he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.

your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.

"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks. 

“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.

he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open. 

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours. 

“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair. 

“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him. 

“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.

he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it. 

“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling. 

“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”  

“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still. 

“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home? 

he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?” 

you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea. 

“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up. 

you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“ 

“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.” 

you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way. 

your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet. 

you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.

“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?” 

“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again. 

“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.” 

you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in. 

“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.” 

“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets. 

“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”

gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage. 

huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night. 

but that’s not- 

it is. check your phone. 

oh, i guess it… is? 

c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day. 

and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going. 

leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time. 

it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out. 

but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again. 

his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.

“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength. 

“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember. 

with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine. 

it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him. 

“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you. 

even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans. 

“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”

you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up. 

“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code. 

his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end. 

he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy. 

you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off. 

“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands. 

he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image. 

“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?” 

you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze. 

your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.” 

gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.

but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.

with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?” 

“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love. 

“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.” 

“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.” 

the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?” 

you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again. 

he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far. 

“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?” 

you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs. 

“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.” 

“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.” 

“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.” 

there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock. 

“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too. 

that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?” 

you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek. 

“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it. 

“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.” 

he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time. 

“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.” 

“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.” 

[vanishingcherry]

YN YLN and Charles Leclerc Take a Couples Quiz

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

author's note: this has been in my drafts for wayy to long, so ive decided to just finish it off and post it. im sorry lmao but i just couldn't watch this rot away in my wips any longer.

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

The video cut to you and Charles, sitting opposite each other in front of a yellow to red gradient, smiling at the camera.

"Hi! I'm YN", you say cheerfully.

"And I'm Charles"

"And we are here to take a couples quiz!"

You are handed a stack of questions from a person off screen, and turn towards Charles.

"Are you ready?"

"Is that the first question?" he retorts.

Your face drops, now showing slight annoyance but there is still a small smile you try to hide. "That's it. Minus 1 points."

"Oh c'mon! That is not fair."

You turn to argue but the video cuts to a different scene in which you ask the actual first question.

"What things do I have, of yours, that are my favourite?

He looks up in thought before chuckling and replying. "Theres a lot, you steal my stuff all the time."

You grin. "Yes, but what's my favourite?"

"My shirts? No wait! My bracelets?" He asks.

"Yeah!" you exclaim. Turning to the camera you add. "He gets so many bracelets from fans and they are all so pretty. We keep them in a bowl on our dresser so I like to take a few whenever I go out."

Looking back at Charles, you add. "You didn't know the answer, but you still got it right so I think you deserve half a point." The staff behind the camera gives you a thumbs up, noting it down for when they would edit the video.

"Ok! Next question- which song of yours is my favourite?"

He looks at you, his eyes widening with a confused expression on his face. He looks at the camera crew and then back at you.

"C'mon, I only have 2 it's not a very hard question."

"Then answer it." you reply, looking at him with a small smirk.

"Fine. Uh, AUS23."

"Wrong!" you exclaim, laughing at the way his jaw drops in surprise.

"Then what? I know its not Miami."

"Its the one you wrote for Baku." you slyly say, knowing fully well that he hadn't released it and you were possibly the only one other than him to have heard it.

You look down at the cards you had been given, reading off the next question. "What is the first thing I eat in the morning?"

You see his smirk growing in your peripheral vision and cut in before he answers. "If you dare make a joke, I will murder you."

He laughs at that, chuckling as he looks up to think. "Um. Breakfast? It's different things every morning, but if I wake up before her then I make cereal."

Noticing the evident confusion on the faces of the cameramen, you elaborate. "It's the only thing he's allowed to make without me present. The last time I let him cook alone, he burned the pancakes and half our kitchen."

Turning red at the story, he interrupts. "Okayy, next question amore."

"Which side of the bed do I sleep on?"

"Left."

"If I could get a tattoo of something, what would it be?"

"A bouquet of flowers. The flowers would be your favourite and my favourite together."

You are shocked at his response. "How did you remember that? I told you that ages ago!"

He smiles slyly to the camera. "That is why I am the best boyfriend, there is no need for these silly questions I am already the best. She told me so in be-"

"Right. Next question." You cut him off, eyes widening as you figure out where he was going with the statement. "This is the last one. If I could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

"Oh this is easy. Italy. You are always talking about how much you love it. But you also love Monaco and France so depending on how you feel, one of those three."

"Well.", you look at the camera, "I think that answer deserves 2 points." Handing your questions off to the side, you turn to Charles who has started reading the first of his questions.

"If I had a ticket to anywhere in the world, where would I go?" he reads. "This is similar to yours", he mutters.

"Home", you say confidently. "He's a mama's boy, tries to go back home as much as possible."

He blushes slightly before nodding to the camera. "Yup, 1 point."

"What was I wearing on our first date?"

You reply quick as lightening. "A shirt and pants. Very gentlemanly, I remember thinking, probably the best first impression I've had of a guy."

His eyebrows raise at the confession, cockily tilting his head in the direction of the camera. "You heard her! Next, what is something I hate?"

"A lot of things, Char."

"Is that your final answer, cherie?"

"Um." you pause. "Oh I know! When manipulate stuff that you say. It makes me really mad too. It gets really tiresome when they take stuff that Charles has said that turn into into a different story altogether."

"Thats true, I do hate that." He smiles at you, reaching over to squeeze your hand once to say thank you.

"How many kids do I want?"

"3, because you have 2 siblings. But, you said you want as many as I am comfortable with!"

"Of course, amour. You're the one whose going to be carrying them, your choice is more important here. What is something I get annoyed about?"

"Oh, when Seb and Carlos beat you at those Ferrari games you play."

His jaw drops in faux offence, shaking his head as he reads out the last question on his cue card.

"What is one my hidden talents?"

You look straight at the camera, not dissimilar to The Office. A smirk grows on your face and the lens zooms in. In the background Charles can be heard complaining.

"Oh I see! You can make these jokes, but I cant?"

The video cuts to the wider angle once again, you and Charles wave at the camera.

"Thanks for watching our couples quiz! I think it's clear that I've won."

Charles rolls his eyes, eyes shining with admiration and love for you. "Bye everybody."

Comments:

charleslover: OH MY GOD!! THEY ARE SO IN LOVE IT KILLS ME

ynandcharles: their facial expressions always kill me

username89: where do i get a charles leclerc bcs i will willingly offer all the money i have

doratheexplorer16: their love for each other hurts

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Chiori and Yae with a reader that tries to slack off all the time

characters: Chiori / Yae Miko x gn!reader (separate)

a/n: Chiori is such an asshole and I absolutely adore her. She’s like if they gave Stannis Baratheon hair and a second sword.

(I wrote this like... 2 months ago and finally finished it. A total henry move to write 90% of smth and then let it rot in my WIP folder for months, if you ask me.)

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Chiori

While the two of you matched when it came to radiating calm energy, the way they came out in quite contrasting ways. Where the Seamstress worked hard at following her passions, you were easygoing, where she was direct and brutally honest, you were charming and always said what the other party wanted to hear. Where she was Chiori, you were you.

So when you once again found yourself in her Boutique, chatting away with customers and somehow managing to make them spend more than they had planned, only to up and vanish from one moment to the next, Chiori couldn’t help but feel like she had an inkling of an idea to as were she would find you.

“What are you doing here?”, Chiori’s voice suddenly rang out, waking you from your slumber as you slowly looked up at her, your eyes still half closed and yet still managing to make out the vexed look on her face.

“I was taking a small break. Do you need me for something, Chiori?” you asked in a completely innocent tone, an unwavering smile plastered on your face as she stared you down before signaling to the once locked door.

“And where did you get the keys for the room?”

“They were in the door, so I let myself in. Oh- Was I not supposed to go here?” You realized with widened eyes, glancing between her and the door before shooting her an apologetic smile.

“Yeah no, don’t do that again. The next time you want to take a nap, do it at home”, came her response almost immediately.

Putting the whole “sneaking off and going into a locked room to take a nap away from people” situation aside, what annoyed Chiori even more was how impossible to read you were. If she was sure you were lying to her, she’d have thrown you out long ago. Were you really clueless enough to let yourself into a room or were you simply playing dumb? 

“Ugh. If you want to stand around and do nothing, come with me. I’m in need of a model right now.”

Yae Miko

While you were certainly far from being as lethargic as a certain ninja-girl loitering around the shrine every so often, you had your moments of supreme languidness. And while there were times she felt the urge to help you out by giving you a bit of motivation to get your day started, more often than not, Yae found herself amused by the lengths you took to go unnoticed by your superiors.

“Oh my, you look exhausted. You must have been working hard to get all of this paperwork finished. I do hope I’m not being a nuisance right now”, Yae observed as she entered the room, her voice both soft in nature while masking her mischievous intentions, letting herself into your office only to see you half-slumped over your desk with finished paperwork surrounding you.

That being said, Yae had no doubt it didn’t take you as long as your dramatic rendition of an exhausted warrior would suggest, considering the clever ways you found to make your work easier. So often had you inadvertently impressed her with your way of working that she wouldn’t put it past you to reinvent the wheel if it could shave off a few seconds from your work.

“No, I just now finished my work”, you were quick to soothe her worries, and yet by the way you rubbed your eyes awake, the Kitsune couldn’t help but doubt your words.

As expected, you had learned from your mistakes. The last time you were caught finishing early, you got a few sentences of praise and an extra load of work, the way your self-satisfied smile turned into one barely holding on as you tried to mask whatever emotions washed over you on the inside, being exactly the kind of subtle reactions she loved to watch people go through.

“You should know that you are truly a commendable employee. So, to reward you for your hard work, I should give you a promotion”, Yae spoke before shooting you a small smile as if to praise you, and yet by the time her words registered in your brain, your mouth was left hanging wide open.

“Thank you, but that’s really not necessary. I can think of a dozen people more suited than me-”

“You’re selling yourself short. I’m confident you’re more than qualified for the position”, Yae quickly cut you off, her expression unchanging as she slowly turned around. “Or… Is it that you do not want more work?” She added as her smile grew wider, barely hiding her enjoyment anymore.

“No… thank you”, you responded with a meek sigh, realizing the futility of fighting it.

Once you’d take a closer look at your new privileges and responsibilities, you’d surely realize that she made sure most of your new workload wouldn’t take nearly as long as your current one if handled in an intelligent manner, and yet, when she saw your current reaction, a part of her found herself hoping you wouldn’t realize anytime soon.

By the time Yae reached the door however, she found herself halting in her tracks, quietly humming to herself as she seemed to think about something before finally turning to face you once again.

“I do suppose you did work well today. Take the rest of the day off.”

[munson-blurbs]

Hi buggy!! I had an idea and I feel like you are the perfect person to give it to (as you know I have way too many WIPS)

Okay so -Drama Club!Reader taking a nap on the couch in the room they use for Hellfire- She’s got headphones on so she doesn’t hear them come in- Halfway through the game Eddie realizes ? There’s someone in the room? And then he drives her home? Run with it honestly! Also ILY!!

You know I love any excuse to write fluff 🥰 for you, my dear.

Warnings: none really, just tooth-rotting fluff and the Hellfire boys teasing Eddie

WC: 1.5k

Sleepiness hits you like a truck. No matter how many plays you do, no matter if you have a leading role or you’re part of the chorus, post-show exhaustion is real. There’s no break between the infamous “Hell Week” and opening night, and you are feeling it.

Your knees buckle like your legs are going to give out. Despite the upbeat tempo of Joan Jett’s I Love Rock ‘n Roll blasting through your headphones, which typically puts some pep in your step, you’re about to fall over.

As you pass by the drama room, it dawns on you: there’s a couch that’s perfect (or at least feasible) for a quick little nap.

Luckily for you, it’s completely empty, and sleep quickly overtakes you. No lines to memorize, no scrambling to stage left when Mr. Underwood calls for the Mad Hatter. Just pure, uninterrupted–

“Oh, come on!”

Well. 

You’re jolted awake by the sound of a group of guys shouting at each other. As your vision focuses, you can see that they’re all wearing matching shirts, proudly proclaiming themselves to be the Hellfire Club. You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep, but your cassette is no longer playing music, so it has to have been a little while.

The voice that had woken you from your nap belongs to Nancy Wheeler’s younger brother, Mike, who is currently raking his hands through his shaggy hair in frustration. 

“Okay, okay, just focus.” Will Byers, ever the voice of reason. He was one of the set designers for Alice in Wonderland, and his kind disposition effectively made him the adopted little brother of most of the upperclassmen. He picks up a die, takes a deep breath, and rolls, letting out a disappointed groan as it clatters to the table. “Shit!”

“That’s…a…miss!” Your attention is immediately drawn to the man sitting in a throne-esque chair at the head of the table, cackling at Will’s misfortune. You nearly fall off of the couch when you see that it’s Eddie Munson, the guy you’ve had a crush on since you’d started high school four years ago.

“Careful, Eddie,” one of the younger members–Gareth, if you’re remembering correctly–goads the Dungeon Master,  “you’d better be nice to him, or he won’t introduce you to your lady love.”

The rest of them oooh and make kissy noises, laughing amongst themselves.

Eddie slams a fist on the table, silencing them immediately. “Shut up!” he roars, scrunching up his nose in anger. His sudden outburst startles you; luckily, everyone is too engrossed in the game–and teasing Eddie–to notice the way you twitch on the couch.

The game continues for a few more minutes, punctuated by cheers and irritated grunts, before Will speaks up. “She’s really nice, Eddie,” he starts, “I could see if she’d wanna talk to you—”

“Enough!” Eddie hisses through gritted teeth. “I swear, I’ll end this campaign right now.”

“Hold on,” another freshman, this one with curly hair, chimes in. He raises his forefinger as he contemplates the situation. “You’re telling me that you went to see Alice in Wonderland–twice, I may add–stared at her the whole time, and you don’t even wanna know if she’s interested?”

That gets your attention—what drama club actress does he have his eye on? Probably Chrissy Cunningham, the blonde beauty who’d snagged the leading role. Cheerleading, acting, all-around nice person; who wouldn’t have a crush on her?

Eddie shakes his head, frizzy curls brushing the shoulders of his denim jacket. “You idiots are driving me crazy.”

Jeff, who happens to be in your English class, throws him a knowing smirk. “Don’t you mean, driving you mad?”

His pun earns him a round of high-fives from his friends, but Eddie is less than enthused. 

“That’s it; we’re done here.” Eddie smacks his palms to the table, rolling his eyes when the guys groan. “I’ll clean up, just—get out of here. Go!” He yells the last word when no one moves, and they all scramble for their backpacks and out the door. 

Once they leave, he starts tossing game pieces back in the box haphazardly, mumbling to himself. 

“Fuckin’ kids, think they know everything just because they have girlfriends—Jesus Christ!”

Your eyes flit over to see him staring at you, hand pressed to his chest as he catches his breath. 

“Wh-What the fuck are you doing here?” he stammers, trying to catch his breath. “When did you even get here?”

“I, um, needed a nap,” you admit, “and I knew there was a couch here, but I dozed off for too long…I didn’t mean to crash your game,” you finish lamely.

“Oh,” Eddie grins, relieved that you’ve been asleep and blissfully ignorant of the ribbing he’d received during Hellfire, “yeah, I mean, no worries. ‘S, uh, comfy.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Not really. I was just tired.”

“Yeah, makes sense,” Eddie sputters with a forced laugh, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Just finished the play and everything. ‘S a lot of work.”

“Yup.” There’s an awkward pause before you speak again. “Well, I should probably head home before my mom reports me missing or something.”

“I can drive you!” Eddie blurts out, cringing inwardly at the abundance of enthusiasm in his tone. “I mean, ‘s cool with me if you wanna…bum a ride.”

You tilt your head with a small smile. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to go out of your way…” You know that he lives in Forest Hills Trailer Park across town, and you don’t want him wasting time and fuel when you could easily walk.

“No, yeah, I don’t mind.” He rocks back and forth on his heels nervously. “I, uh, actually wanted to ask you about the play.”

You nod, grabbing your backpack from the side of the couch. Before you can sling it over your shoulder, his hand shoots out to catch the strap at the top. 

“I can carry it.”

“Eddie Munson…chivalrous gentleman?” you tease, unaware of the shiver coursing through him when you say his full name. “Full of surprises today.”

You follow him to his van, smiling politely when he opens your door for you with a small bow. He jogs around to his side and climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Where to?”

You give him your address and offer a general direction. “So, what did you wanna ask me?”

“Hm?”

You raise your eyebrows. “You said you wanted to drive me home so you could ask me about the play.”

“Oh, yeah! Right.” Eddie fumbles for his words. “Is it hard remembering all your lines?”

You shrug. “Not too bad. Kinda like studying for a test, y��know?”

“Uh, sure.” He puts his hand on the back of your seat and turns his head, tongue poking out from between his lips as he concentrates on backing out.

Another pregnant pause fills the air, and you rub your palms along your jean-clad thighs. “What else did you wanna know?”

He wracks his brain for more questions, but comes up short. “That was pretty much it, I guess.”

“Eddie!” you scoff playfully. “I wouldn’t have had you drive me if you only had one question!” Without thinking, your hand swats at his chest.

“Ow! Damn!” he laughs, using one hand to tend to his ‘wound’ while keeping the other on the wheel. “I’m gonna have to tell Byers that you’re actually really mean.”

“Me?”

“Mhm,” he confirms. “Violent, too. ‘S probably gonna leave a mark.”

“Poor baby.” You jut out your lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “Need someone to nurse you back to health?” You take a beat before proposing, “Maybe…Chrissy Cunningham?”

Eddie coughs out a laugh. “Chrissy Cunningham? Yeah, no.”

“Really?” You furrow your brow in confusion. “Then who were the guys talking about?” The question comes out before you can stop it, and you feel your face heat up with embarrassment. “Sorry, I–”

“‘S fine,” he mutters, drumming his fingers on the wheel. His ears tinge pink and he gnaws on his cheek, but doesn’t say another word.

Something dawns on you; a comment he’d made earlier in the drive. “I’m gonna have to tell Byers that you’re actually really mean.” And back at Hellfire, Will had said that Eddie’s drama club crush was “really nice.” And then there was Jeff’s comment about them driving him mad…

Oh.

“Do you wanna get some pizza or something?” you ask, the words spilling from your lips. You peer at him hopefully, trying not to sound overzealous. “Y’know, just so I can make sure your injury isn’t fatal.”

He nods. “Yeah, sounds awesome. I like pizza.” His gaze flits over to your hand; he reaches over and timidly gives it a small squeeze. “Like you, too.”

Your body fills with warmth, and you settle back into your seat and smile. Yeah, that nap was definitely a great idea.

--

[wttcsms]

excerpts;

i have over 100k+ words in unfinished drafts/wips in my google docs. yikes.

in an attempt to gauge general interest + also to motivate myself in attempting to at least finish half of the projects i've started, i'm going to share some of the fics i think y'all will be most interested in 🤍 (and also because these are my usual first rough draft attempts, so these are just the best of the worst LOL)

as always, lmk what you think, what you're most excited for, and i'm always open to chatting about any of my concepts in depth 🤭

featuring keiji akaashi, atsumu miya, sae itoshi, tobio kageyama, naoya zenin, satoru gojo, + a plot that's still open for any character so tell me why ur fave deserves it (all with fem reader)

— brace for impact, keiji akaashi elevator pitch: rich college girl with daddy issues is roommates/put under the care of old-time family friend, 20-something y/o keiji akaashi

“I just don’t want you to waste your life away.” He answers, which is the truth. He really hates picking you up when you’re drunk off your ass, unable to defend yourself against the swarms of sleazy college guys that are attending the same party as you. He hates the fact that you’ve been raised — if the dozen father-daughter interactions you had with your dad counts as him “raising” you — to believe that money can solve all your problems. Because, sure, having money has gotten you out of many tight spots, but it wasn’t money that drove to a college on the other side of the city to pick you up, it was him. He has to stand here and watch you push the universe’s boundaries, trying to test your luck, to see if there’s a problem or a bad situation that you can’t get out of this time. You’re reckless and privileged and insecure and rich — the deadliest combination for any college age girl to be. You’re going to ruin your life before it even fully begins. It’s like your default mode is self destruction. 

“Not this speech again.” You sigh, shifting your body so that your knees are turned towards the door instead of him. “Y’know, Akaashi, you’re not my dad.” 

“Yeah, because unlike him, I actually care about you.”

You’re silent now, still staring out the window. He’s usually better at keeping his mouth shut, but it’s hard to do whenever you’re constantly pushing and pushing and testing his patience and he’s just so—

“—sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His knuckles are white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel. It’s a wonder how the words leave his mouth; you think the way he’s clenching his teeth acts as a formidable enough boundary. 

Actually, you think, it’s entirely justifiable. You’re coy, not dumb. You know when you’ve pushed Akaashi too far, and this is one of those times. And, really, you kind of — scratch that — you do deserve it. All of it. And then some. You’re irresponsible, and you drag him out to the other side of the city so he can act as your guardian, your protector, even though that is most certainly not the role he planned on playing. Honestly, you’re just surprised that he hasn’t left you out to rot like everyone else, and you’re thankful, you really are. But what are you supposed to say? That? The truth? Probably. 

You don’t, though. You just mutter some weak ass retort that sounds an awful lot like “you need to get laid” before staring out the window for the rest of the ride. 

— devil on my shoulder tellin' me i'll die soon (i don't really want that to impact you), atsumu miya elevator pitch: yakuza au but a healthy amount of porn and plot. sequel to this.

The first time Osamu Miya meets you, you’re unconscious, and he has a feeling you’d be grateful about this fact considering the state you’re in. 

Atsumu’s carrying you bridal style, and even in your sleep, you still cling to him. The sight would be almost sweet, but Osamu’s not an idiot. There can never be anything sweet in his dear older brother’s life. Even in the pale moonlight, Osamu can see the bruises and hickeys lining your neck, a trail of them that seem to disappear underneath your clothes (he wouldn’t be shocked if there’s a map of hickeys littering your skin). Your hair is sticking up at odd angles, your lips are swollen, and you are knocked out in every sense of the word. 

If the situation wasn’t serious (even without verbal confirmation, he’s well aware of how dire this situation is right now; Atsumu wouldn’t have visited him if it weren’t), Osamu thinks he would have made a comment about his brother’s rough handling. 

(He doesn’t, though, because Osamu knows all about just how rough his brother can get — after all, they both had the same upbringing.) 

“‘Samu,” Atsumu says, and his voice makes him sound like he’s worse for wear. He sounds like when he was fourteen and had his first taste of initiation, when a group of the strongest men would beat him relentlessly for thirty seconds and he wasn’t allowed to fight back. The crack in his voice is subtle, and even though Osamu rarely speaks to his brother anymore, he’s still a master at reading him. 

“Who’s the girl?” Osamu nods to your sleeping form, trying not to focus on the purple and red marks. God, he can’t tell if he, Atsumu, you, or all three of you are lucky it’s so dark. Osamu can’t really believe it’s possible to go out in public after a night with his brother; not without being on the receiving end of a few concerned looks. 

“I need a favor.” Atsumu ignores his question, which is typical behavior for him, so Osamu’s not entirely too surprised or annoyed. “She’s in danger, and it’s—” 

Atsumu grimaces like the next words he’s about to say are going to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. And maybe it’s because that’s his brother and they grew up together, or maybe it’s because ‘Tsumu’s always been a little predictable (or has Osamu just always been good at predicting?), but Osamu can almost mouth what his brother’s about to say.

“—my fault.” 

So, you must be someone awfully important to his brother then. Important enough that Atsumu would finally visit him in person after all these years (with barely any warning beforehand, too). Important enough that Atsumu would treat you so roughly (if the marks on your body are any indication of what you’ve been through) and still care about you so deeply. Important enough that he’s finally taking accountability, finally taking the blame for his actions.

He didn’t think it was possible, but Atsumu’s left him genuinely speechless for a moment. 

“Please, ‘Samu.” Atsumu Miya is not the type of person who breaks down easily. He does not beg, he commands. But right now, Atsumu sounds like he’s this close to getting down on his knees and clasping his hands together if that’s what it’ll take to get Osamu to help him. “You told me you would owe me after what I did for you. Consider this your repayment.” 

Apparently, you’re someone so important to Atsumu, he’s cashing in a favor that’s worth his life just to ensure your safety. Osamu can’t tell if that’s true idiocy or true love — then again, there’s hardly a difference between the two, is there? 

“Idiot. I would have helped ya regardless, y’know.” He means it. Every word. 

“I know.” And Atsumu means it, too. Because even if they’ve went years with little to no contact, even though they both belong to two completely different worlds, they’re still brothers. Which means that they also know each other as well as they know themselves, and Atsumu knows that Osamu can never truly be at peace until he feels like the completely imaginary debt he owes is paid back in full. 

The universe must have a taste for irony, though, because Atsumu thought that ensuring your safety and bringing his brother peace would make him feel good. Instead, transferring you to his brother’s arms allows the weight of the world to rest more comfortably on his shoulders. 

Osamu takes one last look at his older brother, and he’s not entirely surprised to see that his attention is on you, dark eyes staring so intensely at your sleeping figure, he wonders if he’s trying to commit your face to his memory. He’s worried about Atsumu. Sure, he’s got a whole entire gang on his side, a rather powerful one too, but ‘Tsumu’s never been the greatest at being left alone to his devices, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

But then Atsumu looks up at him, and Osamu feels like they’re both fourteen again. Trapped, vulnerable, in immense pain… But not alone, never alone. 

“Thanks, ‘Samu.” 

“Any time, ‘Tsumu.” 

(It’s the same words exchanged by their teenage selves years ago, whenever Osamu would help him clean his cuts and sloppily stitch him up.

To them, it was another way of saying “I love you”.)

— it always leads to you [chapter one], sae itoshi elevator pitch: literally the long ass, long awaited start to this series. if you listened to taylor's new album (ttpd)... yeah, that's basically the new soundtrack for this fic. do what u will with that info <3

A hard pill to swallow is that people never get over their first loves. 

It’s like, scientifically proven, or something. There’s been studies, you think. Not to mention that you belong to the group of people who have never gotten over their first loves. 

You’re aware that it’s probably embarrassing and should be something that brings you shame, but when Sae comes knocking on your door, infrequent, surprise visits that always catch you off-guard, you find yourself opening the door for him. 

(He has a key. He can let himself in any time he wants. You think he must forget.)

This time, he’s not knocking on your door, but he is waiting in the stairwell near the entrance to the floor of your apartment. He’s got a baseball cap on and a dark sweatshirt, and you want to tell him that everyone who lives here is most definitely getting shitfaced at the college bar you just left (the one whose only redeeming qualities are that it’s by campus and the drinks are cheap). He doesn’t have to worry about hiding his identity. 

You frown when he approaches you. 

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” you pout and complain about this halfheartedly, but it’s all for nothing. Sae never tells you when he’s coming; it’s almost like you’re just a spur-of-the-moment decision to him, which doesn’t feel right since the Sae you grew up with was always meticulous and purposeful with his actions. Granted, the Sae you grew up with left on a plane to an entirely different continent four years ago, and the one you have standing next to you now sometimes feels more like a doppelganger than your ex-boyfriend. 

He doesn’t answer, because of course he fucking wouldn’t. He waits for you to fumble with your keys; if you knew he was coming, you wouldn’t have let Akane convince you to take as many shots as you did. Now everything is kind of blurry and hazy, and your hands shake despite the lack of coldness you’re feeling. 

You delude yourself into thinking that there’s something of the old Sae left inside of him as he gently pries the keys from your fumbling fingers and unlocks the door to your apartment himself. 

Entering your apartment feels like traveling in a time machine, only instead of traveling back in time or to the future, Sae is entering a present-day parallel universe. This apartment, with its best (and only) amenity being a short distance from campus, could have been his. Could have been shared by the two of you, even. 

If he had stayed, that is.

Sometimes Sae ponders what his life would be like if he stuck around. If he had never had the ego or the audacity to want to see more of the world. You know better than to ask him why he never visits you when you’re on a holiday break from school, and he thinks it’s because you still know him the best out of anybody, even Rin. The truth is, Sae is too uncomfortable to come crawling back to his childhood home that he grew up in, the one he’s spent years determined to grow out of. He only comes back home when absolutely necessary — out of eldest son/family obligation. 

This college apartment, seeing remnants of a life you’re living that he doesn’t know much about (even though all he has to do is ask, and you would gladly tell), feels wrongly nostalgic. Like, the sweatshirt lying haphazardly on the couch displaying a big, fat Tokyo U logo on its front could have been his instead of your roommate’s. He could have played college ball instead of trying to get recruited directly to the big leagues. Sae’s good enough to get a scholarship. Even received a letter informing him that Tokyo U would be more than glad to have him, full-ride. 

(The letter resides in the back of his closet, crumpled up but never forgotten.) 

And, most importantly, you wouldn’t be looking at him like this. 

Even drunk off of cheap alcohol, you sober up startlingly fast when you see him. You shouldn’t give him so much power over your life, but he’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t relish in the overwhelming relief that you still love him just the same. Nothing ever changes back home, and he says this with disdain, but when it comes to your unshifting affection for him, he figures staying the same can’t be all bad.

“Y’know, it always feels like you’re judging me when you just stand there and look at everything.” An intoxicated you is an honest you. If he wasn’t so determined to mask everything about himself, he would have smiled at your admittance. 

He doesn’t smile, though. He just continues to let his cold eyes roam across the entirety of your cramped, college apartment.

— an indentation in the shape of you, tobio kageyama elevator pitch: idol!reader who goes into hiding after a major scandal despite being the victim x pro!tobio who's been hopelessly pining after you since forever. now you're in hiding, but also living in the apartment right across from his.

SEARCH NEWS: [NAME] [SURNAME] > TOP RESULTS (SORTED FROM MOST TO LEAST RECENT)

WHERE DID [NAME] [SURNAME] GO? *INCLUDES EXCLUSIVE PHOTO OF HER MOST RECENT SIGHTING!*Posted on March 10, 2019

[NAME]’S SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS HAVE BEEN TAKEN DOWN, IDOL HAS NOT BEEN SPOTTED IN A WEEK Posted on January 4, 2019   BREAKING: [NAME] [SURNAME] GOES SOLO! LEAVES IDOL GROUP TO START HER OWN CAREER! Posted November 6, 2018

KENTARO TANAKA NOW DATING J-POP IDOL AYAME MATSUMOTO, [NAME]’S FELLOW GIRL GROUP MEMBER!Posted on November 1, 2018

AFTER RECEIVING BACKLASH FROM ANNOUNCEMENT OF HER RELATIONSHIP, [NAME] [SURNAME] ISSUES AN APOLOGY ON ALL SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS Posted on September 3, 2018

NEW COUPLE ALERT! IDOL [NAME] AND HER RECORD LABEL’S EXECUTIVE, KENTARO TANAKA, SPARK DATING RUMORS Posted on August 16, 2018

When you spend most of your adolescent and young adult years standing in front of a camera, constantly served on a platter for the masses to scrutinize during your most formative years, you get used to being seen. People’s eyes locked in on you isn’t a comfortable feeling, but it’s one you’re very well acquainted with. Watchful, judging gazes cling to you like a second skin. 

It comes with the job is what your personal manager, Fumiko Gima, tells you, right before she tells you to toughen up. You had been fifteen at the time and saw a blogger discussing how you were the least attractive cast member on the children’s ensemble show you starred in. 

All eyes are on you from this point forward. You really going to let them see you cry? Fumiko is not a nice person, but she is incredibly kind, in her own way. She’s the type of person who believes in tough love, all while claiming that she doesn’t even think love exists. 

You think about the disapproving frown on her face when you revealed your relationship with Kentaro Tanaka. 

“You think you’re in love with him?” Sometimes it’s hard to believe that Fumiko is barely seven years older than you. Her youth is evident in her flawless skin and shiny hair (both of which are maintained by very meticulous routines), but the flat expression she wears on her face makes her seem like a woman who found out the hard way that her thirties are not going the way she planned. You’re eighteen when she asks you this question, and you don’t know how a twenty-five year old woman can have such an intimidating aura, but you think that only adds to her beauty. 

“He told me he loves me.” 

“People like him and I don’t believe in love.” Fumiko makes a face; sometimes, she lets her poker face drop in favor of making a face of disgust, annoyance, irritation, or extreme smugness. Right now, she looks disgusted. “Well, I wouldn’t normally place myself in the same group as him, but our industries are pretty much the same. You don’t get to where we’re at because of love, that’s for damn certain.” 

At this point in time, you’re adamant that it’s love because that’s what he says it is, and you’ve never been in love before, but you know that it’s something great. You’re eighteen, and insecure, and he’s in such a powerful position — he could have anyone he wants, and he loves you, so he picks you. Maybe Fumiko is just bitter because no one’s ever chosen her. 

— angel of the morning, atsumu miya elevator pitch: historical, ambiguous war au ft. soldier!atsumu x the civilian sweetheart reader who nurses him back to health

It’s the thunder that wakes you first. 

Lately, you’ve been a light sleeper. Paranoia is a good companion whenever you’re a young, pitifully unmarried lady who lives alone. You keep a chair propped under the knob of the front door, and you no longer open any windows, scared that you’ll forget to lock them at night. 

Normally, it’s the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer, or the creaks that come and interrupt the silence of the night (your parents used to swear that old houses just make those noises) that keeps you up. Sometimes it’s the neighbors next door; they like to get into screaming matches that seem to be so loud, they shake the walls of your home. 

It’s not your neighbors’ arguing that rattles the walls tonight. It’s the thunderstorm that the sweet old man at the farmer’s market warned you about. You be safe out, miss. Take some extra apples. It might be too flooded for you to go out like you normally do. 

You pull your blanket over your head, enveloping yourself in darkness but doing very little to block out the noise outside. The thunder seems to only grow louder, each boom punctuating the lightning that you’re certain is striking through the sky. It’s too loud. 

And rhythmic. 

You listen closer… Three booms in succession. A pause. Three more booms. After a minute of this pattern, the sound only comes more rapidly — louder than before, too. 

The loud booms — it’s not from the storm, then. 

There’s someone knocking at your door. 

You debate hiding under the blanket forever. Maybe this stranger will go away and leave once they realize that no one is going to answer the door. Besides, no one trustworthy is roaming the area at this time of night, right? What possible explanation could there be for someone to be stranded outside at midnight during a major thunderstorm? 

But the knocking persists. Whoever this stranger is, they don’t know when to quit. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so paralyzed with fear. 

“Open up!” A muffled voice still manages to cut through the front door, traveling all the way to your bedroom. It only serves to make you more afraid; what sort of monster is waiting for you outside? The storm rages on, and the knocking won’t stop. 

What happens if this person is in genuine trouble? Would a murderer truly be going through such lengths to kill someone? A thief? 

Well, you rationalize, it’s not as if you have many items worth stealing. Besides, you have no family, no marriage prospects, and a dwindling stash of money with no means to make more. You’re just existing at this point, and you’re surviving on limited time.

So you make your way to the front door, cringing as one section of the floor creaks as you tiptoe through the darkness of your home. You highly doubt the stranger outside can hear you, but you still hold your breath as you peek through the curtains. It’s too dark inside and out for anyone to notice the movement, and all you can make out is a large figure. There’s a knapsack by their feet and hanging off their shoulder is a gun. 

The knocks shouldn’t catch you off guard by now, but one particular hard bang against the door has you jumping in surprise, away from the window. 

This stranger must be a soldier. 

There’s not a lot of fighting to be done down here. The southern towns have mostly been unaffected. Most of the war is being fought up north. All the southern soldiers write back home, telling stories about the cities they visited, careful not to mention the red that runs through the streets and the way the citizens will have to update the population count on the sign outside their City Hall. 

But still, you know what everyone knows — when a soldier, especially one from your side, shows up on your front step, you better let him know that this home is now his. 

You slide the deadbolt with shaky hands, turn the lock on the doorknob, and only hesitate for a few seconds before removing the chair that serves as your last barrier. He’s a soldier, you remind yourself, hoping that you’re not wrong. The least you can do for him is offer him a hot bath for leaving him outside for so long. 

You open the door, revealing a blond-haired soldier weighed down from the weight of his sopping wet uniform, his hair sticking to his forehead because his face is also covered in rainwater, and it’s now that you notice that he’s got one arm wrapped around his abdomen. His hand is pressing down on his side, and you don’t think the dark liquid coating his fingers is water. 

“Finally.” He says. “I’m First Lieutenant Miya, and I fight for the south. I am seeking temporary refuge in your home, and I require only what you can afford to give me. I–“ Before he can finish rattling off what he’s been forced to memorize for times like these, First Lieutenant Miya falls forward, his body crashing into yours. 

It’s been a rough day. 

A rough week. 

A rough month.

A rough life, really, but Atsumu Miya’s long past the days of whining and complaining about things he can’t control. For example, he no longer dwells on his father abandoning his mother right before she gave birth to him and Osamu. There’s still a bitter taste that gets left on his tongue when he mentions dear old pa, which is why, for the most part, he chooses not to discuss him at all. He can’t control the way the north and the south view each other; sure, the mandatory draft isn’t his definition of a fun time, but he honestly didn’t have many plans after school, anyway. He probably would’ve joined the cause, regardless of the law or not. It’s just… A choice is nice to have, y’know? 

Like, if he had it his way, he wouldn’t have gotten caught up in some ambush tonight. If only he weren’t just a lieutenant. If only his captain weren’t such a dumbass.

If he had a group to command, Atsumu’s certain that he wouldn’t lead his men into obvious traps, unlike some captains. But newly promoted Brigadier General Kita isn’t here to force people to listen to what Atsumu has to say. Kita has bigger problems to worry about, bigger troops to organize. 

Atsumu’s morning starts off bright and early with a five mile trek in the woods. The sky is overcast, and anyone with eyes is capable of predicting the storm that’s coming. Atsumu suggests building temporary shelter before the rain makes it too hard to walk; it’s already hard enough to navigate now, but Atsumu’s visited this town before, when he was a little boy. It floods easily, too easily. 

His captain doesn’t listen. Typical.

Around noon, they take a short break to eat. Rations are getting lower. Atsumu suggests that two or three soldiers turn around and head towards town to get supplies. His captain argues that their group is already small enough and sneers that Atsumu must be a northie lover since he’s trying so hard to sabotage this plan. 

The plan is shit, by the way. The captain swears his intel is good, that he’s just oh so certain that a troop of northern soldiers are planning to invade a series of small southern towns. They’re supposedly cutting through the woods to be discreet, and they plan on striking at night.

Atsumu thinks that the captain is just falling into their trap (spoiler: he’s right). There’s no way anyone would bother capturing small towns, just like there’s no way people ever want to listen to someone who’s just a lieutenant. Nobody thinks they have anything to offer, so it’s not worth the time to even pretend to care. These towns aren’t loaded with resources. They aren’t located in any coveted areas. There are only a couple of farms, but even then, they’re not big enough to justify wasting troops to terrorize the townspeople. 

But First Lieutenant Miya follows his orders anyway because what else is he supposed to do? Unfortunately, talking back comes to bite him in the ass because as nighttime starts to settle and the first drops of rain start to fall, his captain gives him a slimy smile before telling him, “Since you have such great ideas, Lieutenant, why don’t you go ahead and turn back into town to get us some of those supplies we needed?”

Well, Atsumu has a few choice words in reply, none of which will get him back into his captain’s good graces (not like he cares to be anyway). Atsumu can argue that it’s dark out, and no one in their right mind is going to be up at night. Atsumu can throw back his captain’s words and remind him that their measly team is already lacking in numbers. He can make the captain look dumb and ask him where the supposed enemy troops are at, since apparently they’re supposed to be capturing the town right about now. He can abandon the men, go back home, and enjoy a homecooked meal from ma. She wouldn’t care enough to scold him for being a dirty deserter; the lecture will come, surely, but she wouldn’t be too harsh with him. Atsumu misses home. He misses his brother, who belongs to a different troop. He misses Shinsuke, his former captain. He misses his mom. 

What he does end up doing, though, is biting back his tongue. He barely nods, clenches his teeth as he reluctantly says yes, sir, and treks off on his own. 

He’s about three miles in when the bullets start flying. 

Isn’t this just a lovely way to finish off the night, he thinks, before sprinting through the trees, weaving between them, trying to ignore how loud and how close the shots sound. He thinks he’ll probably go deaf by the time this damn war is over. A bullet narrowly misses his face, and then he starts to think he’ll probably be dead before then.

He can’t see. If he can’t see, he doubts the enemies can, either. That’s when he gets an idea. His legs are sore, he’s thirsty, and every step he takes is punctuated by a sloshing sound because the area is flooding, just like he predicted it would.

(Sometimes it’s a pain being right all the time.)

The shots are still coming at him in rapid succession, and he believes maybe it’s because they still think they have to shoot at him. If they think they got him, maybe they’ll leave him alone. It didn’t sound like anyone was bothering to chase after him, meaning they’re all probably perched in trees or hiding in bushes, shooting blindly into the night, hoping to land a lucky shot on a target. 

Before he can pretend to be hit, though, some bastard does get a lucky shot on him.

“Fuck!” He can’t help but yell out, the bullet piercing the side of his abdomen. A burning sensation begins to form on the spot where the bullet decided to make its happy home, and Atsumu can’t help but fall to the ground, clutching at the bottom half of his body. 

A minute goes by with no more shooting, and he’s glad he’s in enough pain not to realize that had he thought of his little plan of pretending to be shot sooner, he probably wouldn’t be in this predicament right now. 

It’d be so easy just to lie down and die. It’d be a slow death, sure. Painful, very much so. But no more fighting. No more captains belittling him. 

But if you die, a tiny voice in his head reminds him, it wouldn’t just be you that dies. It’d kill ma. It would ruin Osamu. Don’t be a selfish bastard. 

He allows himself only one more minute to stay absolutely still. He thinks the adrenaline pumping in his system helps to numb the pain, which is saying a lot, considering the fact that death would be preferable over this excruciating sensation. When he’s certain the coast is clear, he struggles to stand and keep himself steady.

He cannot die like this. 

Atsumu Miya knows better than to get upset at things he can’t control. He can’t control flying bullets aimed at him. He can’t control enemy soldiers; hell, he doesn’t even have soldiers he can control, enemy or ally. He can’t control a lot of shitty things that seem to happen to him, but as long as his heart is still beating, Atsumu Miya controls his own fate. He decides what happens next. 

It’s only a matter of putting one foot in front of the other, he rationalizes. He walks all the time. It’s not such a hard task. The storm continues to rage on, and Atsumu pretends he doesn’t even mind the water. He pretends that he’s not freezing. He pretends that he doesn’t care that his uniform is sticking to his body, making the dirty fabric cling onto him as if to act as a second skin. 

There’s a white flag in his knapsack. During training, they said to use it as a last resort. Die before you wave it, or something like that. 

He knows the intended use for it, but right now, he needs it as a tourniquet. He tightens the flag around his waist, using all his diminishing strength to get it as tight as possible. He can trick himself into thinking it’ll stop the flow of blood leaving his body, but at least it’ll slow it down. It’ll grant him enough time to make it into town and get help. 

He doesn’t choose the first house he sees; he chooses the one he likes the best. It’s nothing all too impressive — certainly not the biggest, but from what he can make out in the dark, it looks quaint. It reminds him of home, almost. There’s a porch with a bench outside and flowers on a window sill. It seems to glow in the darkness of the town, its paint a much brighter shade than the surrounding houses. A nice family must live here then. 

He knocks on the door, and there is no answer. Atsumu Miya did not walk this far with his life literally draining out of him to only make it this far. He knocks and knocks, and because he is too stubborn, even to the very end, he doesn’t quit. Someone must answer the door. It doesn’t cross his mind that perhaps this lovely family he’s envisioning might not even be home. It feels like ages since he first started banging on this door, and he thinks this might be it.

And then the door swings open, revealing a young lady with a certain glow about her. Maybe it’s the blood loss talking, but right now, you look like an absolute angel. His bright beacon of hope. 

“Finally.” He swallows hard, trying to remember what he’s supposed to tell you. The proper words are evading him right now. Honestly, even standing is a struggle now. He thinks he does a good enough job, but then he blinks, and his eyes don’t open back up after that.

— to the victor belong the spoils, naoya zenin elevator pitch: the dark longfic i mentioned abt borderline yandere naoya + how he basically slaughtered your whole entire clan and is going to force you to marry him because you have a cursed technique that will basically grant him invincibility

“Who did this?” You’ve seen Naoya so angry that his words seemed to shake the very interior of the room he was shouting in. You’ve seen Naoya so furious that he had everyone in his vicinity cowering in fear, scared to face his merciless wrath. Never have you seen him so enraged that he can hardly speak, the sentence coming out from between bared teeth; they’re discernible growls more than they are words, but his message doesn’t need to be understood in order to know his intent. 

Naoya Zenin is out for blood. 

“Tell me who did this.” He demands, hand gripping your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up and stare him directly in the eyes. You know why he does this; he can read you like a fucking book. He’ll know if you’re lying before you can even finish whatever fabricated story you’ve spent forever formulating. There’s no point in trying to trick him because it’ll cause him to get angrier, and then what? Then, you’ll have the whole entire room’s blood on your hands. A massacre dedicated just for you. 

You hadn’t cried when he had taken you from your home. You hadn’t cried when you were about to be killed by that curse. You hadn’t shed a single tear despite the unfamiliarity of the Zenin Estate, despite the fact that you were forced into a marriage with a man you did not know, despite the fact that you’ve never been this far from home, suffering silently in feelings of isolation and despair. You hadn’t cried after all of that, yet now you’re sobbing? Now you’re here, struggling to stand on your own, clutching onto the material of his shirt as if he’s your only lifeline, dangerously close to burying your face in his chest and crying your little eyes out. He’s been angry more times than he’s ever felt any other emotion. He’s numb to the feeling of his blood rising, of his vision being tainted with red, of having nothing but sick thoughts and vivid memories of torn flesh and severed limbs surrounding him. This emotion isn’t foreign to him; it’s a part ofhim. And he’s angry, yes, but there’s something else that he feels when he looks down and sees you making yourself smaller, as if trying to use him as your own personal shield.

— balancing act [chapter one], satoru gojo elevator pitch: the first month of your bet will you and gojo inevitably get together <3 the start of this series.

You have what you order down to a T. You first started your tried and true method of restaurant ordering when you were but a wee little intern, too shy to go to town on a rack of ribs in front of your peers and bosses. Once you entered the city’s dating scene (which is actually Dante’s tenth circle of hell — it’s just never discussed because that’s truly how vile trying to find a good man in a big city is), you realized that there’s not much difference between lunch dates and client lunches. 

You have the obligatory greeting exchanges (“hi,” “hello,” “how are you,” etc.), the awkward smiles, the mental countdown going off in your head as you wait for the perfect moment to get right into business (“what do you expect to gain from this partnership?” — a line surprisingly used more often in your meetings with potential investors and clients). There’s the pained professionalism, the tight-lipped smiles, the napkin resting in your lap, the battle to maintain constant eye-contact. When you sit across from someone at a table, date or client, you don’t see the person; you see a goal. 

And you’re good at working towards a goal. It’s why you’ve always been the analyst your managers rely on, why you’ve morphed into the senior associate that all your juniors look up to at G&G Capital, and why you automatically figure that if you set your sights on a man only to have him end things, it’s not you who was at fault. It has to be him. You’ve charmed the toughest clients and built fantastic working relationships with the most well-connected M&A lawyers; if you’re this good at professional relationships, why wouldn’t you also be fan-fucking-tastic at a romantic one? 

All the men who have taken you out on dates before wanted to sweep you off your feet. An ex-boyfriend once admitted to you that you appeared so unimpressed at everything, it had become this fun, twisted competition with himself to see what he had to do to get a look of amazement on your face. 

“I can tell by the look on your face that you’re impressed.” Gojo says gleefully, holding open the dirty glass door so you and Utahime can walk in. 

Utahime looks like Gojo just slid open the backdoor to a white van and told her to get in. There’s shock with a hint of disgust evident on her pretty, doll-like features, and you know you’ve got a similar expression, too. 

The floors inside this restaurant — if the dingy, dimly lit shack crammed with small tables and rickety chairs can even be considered a restaurant — are sticky with decades’ worth of mystery liquids that have congealed into the half-inch thick residue that coats the floorboards. You have to purposely think about moving one foot in front of the other in order to walk because actual pressure needs to be applied if you don’t want your heels to become glued to the floor. You’re walking in front of Utahime and Gojo, and you end up choosing a table in the far back; it looks the cleanest. Briefly, you wonder if you’re allowed to be here, then think better of it as Utahime takes the seat next to you, and Gojo takes the one across. You highly doubt there’s a hostess here that’s dictating where the customers sit.

Especially since, upon one glance of the whole place, you realize that it’s empty save for you three. 

“Gojo, if we get killed, I hope they murder you in front of us first,” Utahime hisses. Her family’s so rich (and traditional), she’s never willingly been to a restaurant that doesn’t have a Michelin star. Before college, she’s never even eaten out at a chain restaurant. Being caught in a place like this has Utahime mentally spiraling towards rock bottom. 

“I hope they would, too. I don’t think I have the stomach to watch you meet your grisly end.” Gojo says serenely. Usually, he says things loudly, teasingly, gets all up in your face. When it comes to Utahime, he likes to play at being nonchalant. He’s been doing this to her for over a decade now, and it still grates her. 

Before Utahime can reply, the shaky voice of an older woman is exclaiming, “Oh! Welcome in! Have you gotten a chance to look over the menu?” The voice belongs to a short, plump woman with gray hair, a wrinkly face, but a kind smile that reveals yellowing teeth. She’s got a slight hunch to her back and nails with overgrown cuticles. You try to do a mental calculation of what you could buy this building for, to ensure that this sweet old lady never has to work a day in her life ever again. 

“You know what I want, Mrs. Kimura.” Gojo is giving her one of his signature dazzling smiles. “You can just double the portions today since my friend Utahime here eats enough for a family of five.” 

Mrs. Kimura lets out a throaty laugh. Utahime kicks Gojo in the shin from underneath the table. You’re wondering what Gojo orders from this place, and why does he order here so often to the point of them memorizing his meals? 

“I’m glad you brought friends with you today, Satoru. Meals always taste better when shared with loved ones!” She directs a warm smile in your direction, and you feel bad for returning it with your normal polite one. Tiny and brief. It’s more muscle memory than born from any real emotion. She’s shuffling away to the kitchen before you can try to summon a genuine smile for her, and Utahime’s phone is ringing, filling this near empty space with the tinny, anxiety-inducing sound of an iPhone ringer. 

She doesn’t excuse herself; just looks down at the glowing screen, grabs her phone, and heads outside to take the call.

Which leaves you sitting across from Gojo. Just the two of you. Just the two of you in a dingy restaurant seemingly run by only one old woman. The table looks older than you. The chair you’re sitting on makes a weird squeaky noise with any slight movement of your body. There’s no decor on the walls, no windows either. Nothing to distract you, nothing for you to feign interest in as you wait for Utahime to come back. 

You straighten your posture, try to discreetly look out the front door to gauge how close Utahime is to wrapping up her conversation, and find yourself with no choice but to look in front of you. All you see is Gojo.

He’s tall, you know that. Broad shoulders. Definitely not hideous, you can give him that much. You just feel shocked at how much space he takes up, how it feels like your eyes have to stretch to try to accommodate all of him. 

You don’t know why you feel so awkward, almost like a teenager going on her very first date with a boy she barely knows but still, for some inexplicable reason, wants so badly to impress. You can’t remember the last time you’ve ever felt this way, and you definitely don’t like this feeling at all. 

“How’d you find this place?” You ask him.

“I like to support small businesses.” He’s not teasing you, but Gojo has this bad habit of always adding a playful inflection to his words. 

“I hope you tip well. You look like their only supporter.” It’s not meant to be an insult to the painfully empty restaurant. You know how much Gojo is worth; when Itadori Googled “Satoru Gojo net worth” and showed the results to everyone, Gojo caught him in the act, looked at the top result, and threw his head back in laughter as he told Itadori to “add an extra zero and triple the number.” You think back to your calculation and assessment of the place. “Might as well buy the business.” 

“You make capitalism so cute.” He has to be teasing you now. You scowl. 

(He means it.)

— i wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed, satoru gojo elevator pitch: yandere gojo, royal au, nanny!reader... yeah idk what happened to this fic either, just that it was depraved and i wish i wrote more to share LOL

You’re acutely aware of the noise you’re making, every huff and small, desperate gasp for breath only further betraying your location, but you can’t find it in you to care.

You know, deep inside your pounding, frightened heart, that it doesn’t really matter how fast or how far you run. 

I will always find you.

Just the mere thought of him is enough for you to ignore the ache in your legs and push forward. If you can find the exit, if you can just see the daylight, surely you’d be able to—

You stop in your tracks.

There are two paths: one right, one wrong. Left or right? Freedom or imprisonment? 

There’s no time to waste, but you can’t make a choice. Which decision would be the right one? Surely either route would still be able to lead you to the exit, right? The sharp snap! of a branch being trampled on leaves you even more frightened. Without thinking, you take a left.

— i think you're too divine for my human mind, undecided elevator pitch: rough around the edges but w a heart of gold underground fighter!character x ring girl!reader. i think this was gonna be for bakugo LMAO but i do not have bnha brain rot so maybe a bllk or jjk or hq boy... NO ONE SAY ATSUMU I DON'T WANNA GIVE IT TO ATSUMU

The couch seems to shift with his weight, and you swallow hard, staring straight ahead at the same cement wall you’ve been staring at for the last ten minutes because you’re still too much of a fucking wimp to navigate this area by yourself. 

Despite the two of you sitting at opposite ends of the couch, there’s only about one foot of space separating his knee from yours. You suppose that he gets away with the manspreading since he probably has no qualms with punching anyone who voices their offense. After witnessing just how brutal the infamous [ring name nickname] can get, you know that you’re definitely not going to be the one to say shit to him. You can’t even look at him.

Where the fuck is your sister? You have your arms crossed, covering your torso, and you think you must have subconsciously pressed yourself as far back into the couch as you possibly could. Everything about you must scream out “she wants to disappear!!!”, and the worst part of it all would be the fact that it’s the truth. You knew coming down here would be a bad idea, and the sinking feeling of regret is practically solidifying itself into your stomach. You think you could throw up. 

“Hey,” a voice — a deep voice, scratchy and low and so scarily close to you — breaks the silence. “You must be…”

Of course, you’re used to it by now. Always being referred to as “Akemi’s little sister” no matter the situation, the person, the setting. It makes sense, you rationalize. Everyone knows Akemi. And so, by extension, they must know you — her shadow, her little sister. 

“...helped out Sakura.” 

“What?” You don’t know anyone named Sakura, but you finally turn your head to properly look at him as you answer. He’s got on a white shirt now, incredibly form-fitting, and he’s staring right back at you. You're quick to meet his eyes before getting too nervous and focusing on the space just below his eyes. Then, that becomes too close to eye contact for comfort, so you settle for staring at his jaw. It’s a nice jaw. Sharp. He could probably cut you with it if you contradict any of his statements, so maybe you should pretend to know this Sakura girl. 

“You must be the girl that helped out Sakura.” He repeats. He says it slow and almost carefully, like he thinks you must be some sort of idiot who can’t comprehend the most basic of statements. “Gave her your jacket.” He clarifies, and it makes sense. The girl with the hot pink colored hair must have been Sakura. 

“Yeah.” You nod. 

“So why are you here?” 

“Huh?”

“Y’know… Pretty girls like you don’t normally end up here without a reason. So what’s your reason?”

He says it so casually, throwing it out there as easily as a punch. He probably means nothing deep by it, probably doesn’t even realize the fact that it is a compliment. 

He called you pretty.

“My sister.” You answer, finally looking away at him to look down at your hands that have settled nicely into your lap. Your cheeks feel a lot warmer than they did a second ago. You decide to blame this as a result of too many sweaty people in one basement. 

“She a ring girl?” 

“She’s dating a fighter here.”

“And you?”

“What about me?” 

“Are you dating a fighter here, too?” 

You look him properly in his face after that comment, almost resisting the urge to laugh. Fear that he’ll get offended and smack you into the floor stops that reaction. Instead, you stare at him, slightly surprised, lips almost curled up into an amused smile at just how unbelievable it would be for you to date anyone like him. 

“You finally did it.” 

“Did what?” 

“Look at me.” He holds eye contact, almost as if he’s trying to challenge you into looking away. “I don’t bite, y’know.” He smiles, showing off a surprisingly straight row of white teeth, not a single tooth missing despite the nature of his… job. “It’s against the rules.”

Yeah. Because [character], the fucking [ring name nickname], looks like the type of man who follows the rules.

[littleplantfreak]

Roadtrip headcanons

I had these in a draft for two weeks until @the-bofurin-digest started talkin about how amazing Togame would be on a roadtrip so I'm dedicating them to you ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ (I was gonna let them rot in my wip docs before i saw the post)

Umemiya Hajime

- It depends on the trip but most likely he's prepared everything to a T. If something doesn't pan out in regards to travel time or itinerary he's the type to take it in stride and just enjoy being with everyone.

-Starts up conversations with random people at rest stops/destinations they visit and has to be dragged away because dude we've been here for half an hour and all they have are vending machines.

- Not so secretly likes being a passenger princess. I mean he'll drive no sweat but he loves watching everything passing by the window or turning around to make conversation with everyone. He will help the driver with anything they need tho whether it's a change in station, drinks, or navigation.

-Has the most insane ideas/questions for in-car games. No Sakura doesn't know what he'd do if Ume turned into a worm, but now he has dreams about it.

-If he's not driving he usually knocks out immediately on the way back home. (watch out he drools)

Hiragi Toma

-Please don't let Umemiya sit up front while he drives. In fact, put him in a whole other car (depending on how many of them go that may actually be plausible.)

-Super reliable driver, though if he claims he has a handle on his road rage, he does not. It doesn't affect how he drives nor is he usually yelling, but you can see his shoulders become increasingly tense the more bad drivers he spots. Needs to be fed medicine occasionally for his stomach.

-Not a snacker in the car but he won't turn down a coffee.

-He's good with directions, so whoever rides with him is in no danger of getting lost. Also no soldier is left behind when Hiragi is in charge and he check frequently after every rest/bathroom stop to make sure everyone and everything are in the car. -If the trip is to the beach or some other place where he can relax, he'll definitely take a power nap esp if they left home early.

-Plays his music on the way back home when everyone is sleeping.

Tsubaki Tasuku

-It's a great time no matter where Tsubaki is in the car. She drives and sings or sits passenger and sings. It's impressive how many songs she knows by heart actually. Chalk it partially up to her close relationship with Shizuka.

-When she's not singing, she has a thousand different stories to tell, so no one ever really gets bored. Opts for silence only when necessary, however if she's driving, she really would prefer someone talks to her.

-Kotoha's her go-to passenger in the front, but if she's not there/in a different car she'll just choose anyone not prone to sleeping the whole trip.

-Has a preference for cookies or sweets as an in-car snack.

Kaji Ren

-Sticks with his lollipops as a snack in the car.

-Not a fan of driving even when he has his license. Passenger or back seat for him please.

-Brings CDs and lets people use them but keeps his own headphones in most of the time, which is fine because he's not one for just talking about whatever for hours in the car.

-He curls into his hoodie when he passes out either to or from wherever the trip is. Even if the driver hits a pothole and his head bounces off the window, he stays knocked out, which is both concerning and hilarious.

Sakura Haruka

-Gets motion sick if he's not in the front, either as the driver when he's older or as the passenger. Unfortunately did not know this until the trip started and struggled to hold it in before making everyone stop by the side of the road while he dry heaved.

-If he's at driving age, he's actually a relaxed driver after the first few months of him getting his license. Prefers country driving to city no question though. It ends up being therapeutic for him to take long drives when he's older.

-Don't ask him to use the fancy new car radios that only have the screen, he'll end up with the heat on somehow in the middle of summer instead of changing the station. It's funny to watch him try and work it out until everyone's sweating buckets.

-Perks up if he sees a good food place and remembers it so they can stop there on the way back. Eats whatever he can grab in the car so long as he isn't sick.

[aka-libby]

Counting Our Regrets

Aki Hayakawa x gn!reader | established relationship | semi-canon  [ domestic tooth rotting!fluff + angst (with happy ending/comfort) ]

Word count: 4.3k

Warning(s): mentions/implied topic of de*th, insecurities about love, VERY BRIEF mentions about rough past regarding home life

Summary: Aki hated you at first but after a series of events his view on you changed. Now you’re together as a couple, with the regrets of wasting all that time hating and being avoidant of the inevitable spark you had. Yet even with these regrets on the both of you, it’s when you’re in his apartment having dinner like any other night that he finally realized how he truly feels about you.

A/N: So I have a story in the WIP folder that explains their past and how they became the couple here in this fic. There is a LOT to unfold and it’s honestly a drain to write angst and pain all the time SOOOOO I would write this fic when I’m bored and somehow I finish this one first…. so now here we are. I do hope it’s not confusing but hints enough context for readers to understand the development of the two. Plus I’m WAYYYYY too impatient to wait to post this cause I’m so PROUD OF IT UGH.

Anyways enjoy.

“Is it weird that I still get a bit nervous every time he invites me over for dinner?”

Your friend laughs over the phone. “Really?! It’s been so long now. Just breathe and treat it like any other time you guys are together.”

You’re glaring at them, even though they can’t see it. “I’m serious. You know how the past was, we hated each other… well he hated me. I don’t blame him though, it was in every way my fault for how things are but… still.” 

Your friend probably heard the change in your tone towards the end. The mischievous aura drips from them. “I understand but the situation has changed now. You stopped being a lil brat and he realized the amazing person that you are underneath it. He fell for you instantly, I see it and am reminded of it everyday when I see you two in the same room.”

“Really?” You are curious now about what they meant. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t see it?” The utter disbelief from their tone surprises you more. “The way he looks at you speaks millions. Like a moth lured to a bright ass light. I believe it.”

You smile as your chest lightens from the doubts slipping off you. Their words really eased your mind. “That’s… cute.” Images of Aki flash in your mind of all the times he would get embarrassed when caught showing any form of affection. “He’s really sweet.”

“He is and it is cute but also utterly revolting.” They gag through the phone. “You two are so lovesick for one another and yet SOOOO oblivious at the same time. My eyes get cavities from seeing you two within the same radius.”

The both of you chuckle a bit before they bids their farewell. “Now go in and enjoy the dinner, okay? Tell me more about it later.”

“I will. See you soon.” You say before ending the call.

The grip on the plastic bags you have to your side tightens as you take a deep breath in and out. You know more than anyone this night will be just like any other night. Just a casual dinner with 2 co-workers/friends and your boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

Your lips form into a soft smile as the title lingers in your head. It feels too surreal to be together now after a year of discord between you and Aki. Then a time period of uncertainty of what kind of relationship you guys had. It was the result of the change with his thoughts about you and your thoughts about life. With Himeno’s death being the catalyst to it all.

It doesn’t help that both of you have gone through great suffering revolving around death. Life is unfair to both of you. His family was taken away so suddenly by a worldwide Devil attack while yours…

Agh, the thought hurts too much to think about.

Even with all the hurt, pain, and self projecting in denial of the truth of it all you two somehow ended up here, together. It made you happy to realize that after so long but so late. With time still ticking every single second, it’s only sooner than later that both your lives could end so suddenly.

With Aki’s time limit down to 2 years and yours still in the air, anything could happen at any moment. It was hard carrying the regret of projecting your trauma and fear of abandonment to the relationships around you. How you pushed others away to protect them and yourself. It wasn’t fair to you or your comrades.

They never got to meet the real you.

Your thoughts are cut from the feral screech coming from behind Aki’s door. You know all too well who it was, and you smile softly from the moment, as it reminds you to be present in the present. No time to dwell on your regrets, it will only waste more of your limited time.

You are with Aki now, that’s all that matters.

Finally, you take the last few steps over to Aki’s door. Knuckles barely hovering over the door before it’s busted open.

Power cheers out your name as she pulls you in for a half hug, arm over your shoulder. Her eyes don’t meet yours, instead they’re on the bags at your sides. “You brought food for me?! I'm STARVIN.” 

“Hey!” a familiar voice echoes from inside. “That’s no way to treat guests!”

Power is quick to nag back at him with a roll of her eyes before taking the bags out of your hands. “Allow me!” She excitedly offers but you know there are other intentions behind her kindness. Your head shakes from her obvious facade.

Walking into the Hayakawa Residence, you instantly envelop yourself in the comforting feeling of your second home. The smell of the three housemates and the aroma of home cooked food wafts into your nose causing your previous insecurities to flee. Is this what it's like to be at ease? You’re pretty sure it is by how safe you feel once the door closes behind you.

Turning around the corner, you see Aki casually stirring a mixture of veggies in a savory sauce in a wok. It instantly waters your mouth. “Hi Love.” You greet walking over to where he is in front of the stovetop.

It was then you realize what your friend’s comment meant earlier, about how Aki looks at you. His eyes instantly shine with adoration and his body is fully turned towards you, letting go of whatever he was focused on to meet you halfway. Once you’re within his grasp, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head.

“Hello love, was the trip here okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up.” He apologizes before rubbing your back soothingly.

Shaking your head to look up, you reassure him with a smile. “It’s fine, don't worry. I can’t expect you to always pick me up and host a dinner.”

“I know but I would rather do it knowing you are safe than for you to take a taxi or walk here.” He tells you softly with his arms now draped over waist, his hands interlocked behind you. Blue eyes still looking at you. “Next time I’ll open my schedule up to do so.”

You instantly shake your head. “No, you’ve done too much for me.”

He looks at you softly, almost bittersweetly. “It feels like I haven’t done enough.”

Your lips are already on his nose before he could continue. “You’re perfect.”

Those insecurities leave him and it’s replaced by the previous admiration he first had when you walked into his field of view. Instead of replying, he just pulls you in for another tight hug, his cheek now on top of your head. His indirect way of saying many things with one action.

You mean the world to me.

I appreciate you.

Thank you.

Pulling back from the hug to check up on the veggies he was stirring earlier, you point towards the living room, where Power and Denji lay as they go through the plastic bag you brought. “I hope you don’t mind but I brought some extra food I prepared yesterday and sweets.”

“Mmm you didn’t have to. I made extra food too.” He explains as he tosses the veggies around the sauce, evenly coating each cut piece. “But I do appreciate it, thank you love.”

I smile and wrap an arm around his torso. “I don’t mind. It was going to rot in my fridge anyways with how often I eat here. Plus, you have 2 extra mouths to feed.” 

His soft eyes gloss over to you, and he can’t help but feel the need to kiss the side of your head. “You’re the best.”

“Oi! Can you cook faster and stop flirting so much!” I hear Denji yell from across the place. Aki’s soft feature forms a frown as he goes to scold Denji for interrupting the moment.

Just now remembering you had more people in the room, you walk off to where the other two reside. Both are already munching on the baked goods you’ve brought, happily enjoying it while watching their show.

“Like em?” You ask Denji as you sit down next to Power. Her cat senses your presence, immediately heading over to you, purring happily under your loving touches. “Hi cutie.” 

Without taking his eyes off the screen, he replies back with his mouth stuffed. “Therwe realu-

“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” Aki scolds from the kitchen.

“Whamever.” He dismisses but gulps it down anyways before continuing. “Good ass…” He draws a blank. You watch the way the gears in his mind slowly rotate as they try to put together a coherent sentence. “Good ass goods!”

Power slams her hand flat onto his back, repeatedly slapping him, and causes poor Denji to choke mid consumption of the said goods. Her boisterous laugh echoes within their flat. “You sound more stupid than usual!” She hollers out then starts shaking him.

He starts to cough from all the sudden movements and finally dryly swallows the food. Despite watching Denji almost choke, you can’t help but laugh from watching the events unfold. They really were siblings by heart.

As the conversation slowly dies, Aki takes this opportunity to step outside to smoke. Everyone sits comfortably in the ambience. With the sound of the Tokyo nightlife and the lowered volume of the TV playing some random channel, it really lured everyone to a relaxed state of mind.

It could be the combination of good food and it being quite late into the night that caused both Denji and Power to pass out on the ground. Your buzzy self smiles at the sight of them, so peaceful from the food coma. The whole environment feels so… nice.

It was somewhat odd for you. Your body is aware of the empty space where your walls and guard used to be. Not really used to this feeling of being safe and secure. Growing up in a chaotic and unstable household really puts a toll on you and your point of view on what a safe home should make you feel.

In a way, you never really felt at “home” before.

The silence you’re used to in your own apartment isn’t much different compared to what you’re currently experiencing now, but it makes you feel different. You don’t feel lonely or alienated. You feel…. comfortable. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the fact you are now just appreciating what a domestic life is like, but it’s a new foreign feeling. Nonetheless, it’s not unwelcome, it’s more than welcome.

You hope this doesn’t come to an end anytime soon.

Taking in a sip of the alcohol of your choice, your eyes pick up on the mess that surrounds you. Dirty plates, unfinished platters of food, both used and unused napkins sprawled over the table. Overall it was just messy, but honestly this is what's expected from a late night dinner with Power and Denji involved.

Without another thought, you stood up with your wobbly tipsy legs and started to clean up. Picking up the empty cans and garbage as you scout the room for more.

“Hey.” Aki calls out for you, head just barely poking into the apartment.

You look up at him, an empty beer can in hand. “Hey.” You greet, confused.

His brows lowered from your response. “I wasn’t saying hi. What’re you doing?”

“Oh.” A giggle escapes from your lips from your tipsy brain. You continue to pick up the beer cans and toss them into the recycling bag. “Cleaning up.” You answer simply.

“You’re a guest.” He starts off walking towards you and takes the bag. “You should be relaxing.”

“You hosted this Aki, in your own home. The least I can do is help clean up just a bit.” You explain then immediately start to stack all the dirty dishes. “How about you get the garbage and I’ll do the dishes. Hm? How does that sound?” 

Leaving no room for him to argue further, you leave the living room and head to the kitchen. Aki watches as you walk away happily with the stack of dishes in hand. You look over to him once, an eyebrow raised from his stare.

“What?” You ask as you hold a soapy dish sponge in one hand and a dirty plate in the other, scrubbing away the grim and food off the plates one by one.

A lot of thoughts are running through his mind but he makes no attempt to show it. He just shrugs and chuckles. “Nothing.”

Both of you fall back into comfortable silence. Only breaking it to drop a couple of small talk here and there. With the TV still running in the back, now on the news channel. You make notes on a few topics the news anchor mentions and Aki does the same, feeling comfortable with the surface level talks. 

Nothing about this was new to either of you. You always offer freely to clean up when invited over and Aki follows up by refusing you from doing so. A routine both of you are accustomed to for the past couple of months. In some way, you should feel content or happy being with someone who flows with you so easily and has grown accustomed to you over time.

But as your thoughts simmer a bit longer, a bitter side to all of this comes around. You’re reminded of the reality you’re truly in. Both you and Aki’s death are determined when you both sign your life away to Public Safety. With Aki being two years left and yours possibly just as short.

The unwavering and daunting feeling never goes away and always ruins moments like these you want to cherish and really be in, to really exist in. No matter how much you try to avoid it, the feeling was and is always there. It doesn’t help that a good chunk of your time with Aki was wasted on avoiding getting to this intimate point in your relationship.

The person you were back then would’ve looked down on you. How could you give in to these selfish desires? Get into a relationship with someone knowing the limited time you have left. It wasn’t fair to them or you. A cruel ending to have to anyone. So you did what at the time felt like the best thing to do, barricaded yourself from the world.

You were committed to keeping a facade up. A mock up personality to shield you and others from getting close to you. You hoped you could keep up with it long enough that one day you leave this world and feel relief no one would experience grief like you did. 

Sadly even with trying to avoid the inevitable, you landed in the worst possible position ever. To end up regretting what you did and having to accept the conditions your fear set out for you. If only you gave up sooner than later. Maybe just maybe you would have enjoyed more of these moments with Aki.

“You okay?”

Your head whips to him, ocean eyes hold much concern. “Yeah why?”

He frowns, not convinced at all. “You’re shaking.”

It’s when he mentions it that you realized your shaky hands. Instantly you shove whatever lingering thought you had left and try to play it off as something else, despite knowing he wouldn’t believe you. “Just….” You trail off drawing a blank for an excuse.

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable.” He scolds but his actions don’t mirror his words as he pulls you in for an embrace. “There’s something bothering you. You can talk to me, you know?”

You have… Already. It was a topic that was brought up quite often between the two of you. It was hard to really fully walk past the topic. No advice or form of communication would really ease the both of you of what’s yet to come. But it does in some way help temporarily. At least, until you come back to the same thought again like now.

A sigh leaves your lips when you snuggle closer into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his large frame. “You already know what it is.”

The same sigh leaves his lips as his grip tightens. “I’m here nonetheless.”

Much to his response, it does say a lot. Both of you fall into another routine. Where one would be reminded of the ticking time bomb and the other comes around to comfort them. Neither of you felt the need to speak more with how often it happens. It was a silent way of saying “I’m tired of this too, but just know I’m here for you if you wanna talk more. Just say it and I’ll be here to listen.”

After a few moments, you finally pull back to look at him. A bittersweet smile on your lips. “Thank you.”

His arms never leave you. Instead, they are holding the sides of your arms, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into you. “Anytime.”

Finishing up the last bit that was needed to be done, you both head out to the balcony. You pulled a bit of the curtain from inside to shield where his dingy white lawn chair was on his balcony. A simple but not really effective way to have some privacy from the sleeping children. As you close the sliding glass door, the chills of the night are apparent on your bare arms.

Aki sits down first then signals for you to take the spot on his lap. “Sit, I’m not making you stand.”

Well, you can’t really deny such a tempting offer. You smile at him before doing just that. Both of you adjust yourselves a bit before settling comfortably in the current position. Your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around your waist, and fingers intertwined on your lap. 

The soft buzz of the night life from his quiet neighborhood drowns out your thoughts as you stare aimlessly at the street lights. His arm that was once on your waist now hoists up just below your upper back. He pulls you in closer.

“Hm?” You question the sudden movement.

Aki is silent for a few seconds before talking. “I was just thinking.”

You return the same silence before saying. “Care to elaborate?”

“I…” He pauses, unsure how to say what he wants to say. 

There was just too much to say and too little of the time to say it at that moment. No amount of words or poems could describe the cloud 9 feeling he gets when he sees you there, just existing in his world. It reminds him so much of everything that it overwhelms his mind and makes him draw a blank during moments like this.

Where he wants to say everything but can’t.

So many words and sentences just zoom around him like dust in the air getting blown until it turns into a tornado. Every fleeting thought gets thicker and stronger. It consumes his mind and he can’t choose nor figure out what he wants to say during moments like these. What’s something that could just say everything he needs to say all at once? To tell you he appreciates you. Wants to stay like this with you forever. To continue to live in each other's presence until time stops him for good.

To see you come through that damn door again with a big smile and sparkling eyes as you hold bags of food in both your hands happily. While greeting him with that god forsaken fucking melodic voice of yours.

It hits him.

It’s so simple but it finally hits him.

He looks down at you, meeting your eyes one last time as his nervousness clogs his own throat. The phrase in itself is simple but the meaning is so heavy, so meaningful to him that it almost scares him away from being able to say it. But it’s the only thing that really describes this feeling he feels for you.

God he should really shut up and just say-

“I love you.”

He watches closely to the way your face reacts to this statement, both out of fear and excitement. It’s when he sees the way your eyes get slightly glossy and your cheeks burn bright in warm hues like a sunrise that he reflects the same expression with the biggest smile.

Not much is said. Only the sound of multiple pecks and tender kisses from Aki as he covers your whole face with love. You giggle like a lil highschool girl from all the affection. After almost basically covering 90% of your face in kisses, you finally get a word in. Feeling overwhelmed from joy and love.

“I love you too.” You finally say, holding his face close til your noses are just barely touching. “I… Never thought you could ever love me.”

He understands very well what you meant by that. Given the history between the two of you, but he doesn’t care. At least at this moment he doesn’t. The rays of pure unfiltered feeling of love is all too consuming and subtly blinds him from truly acknowledging the double meaning to your statement.

“We have gone off on the wrong foot and I know we both regret heavily how late it is to be in this position.” He starts off in a whisper then tilts his head slightly to rub the side of your noses, lips barely hovering over yours. “But to me, in this very moment with you, without all the worries we had been dealing with before for weeks. Hell fucking months!” Raising his tone just a bit to playfully emphasize the last part of his statement. “I know for sure I love you. The person here on my lap. The body that holds your beautiful heart and the beautiful heart that holds your soul. From every bit and piece of you, that is all for me to love until I can no longer feel.”

You feel your face get more red with every word being said. It absolutely stuns you to the core and you can’t get your mind to put together a sentence or a single word to say. You’re not used to this true unadulterated form of love. It completely fried your brain, and the only response or reaction you gave were tears.

“I…” You first choke out. “I didn’t do anything special.” You sob out. The big insecure part of you is in some way confused by his declaration. “All I’ve done is hurt you, Aki. I don’t understand.”

He quickly adjusts your positions enough to fully face you from above. Your eyes are bloodshot red, cheeks wet from tears. It’s so painful to see the doubts you’ve had hidden from him resurface but he doesn’t mind. Cause you’re you. He loves you for you, therefore he loves all that comes with you.

Aki starts to kiss your tears and gently guides you to sit up on his lap. Both his hands on your cheeks, wiping the remaining falling tears with his thumbs.

“Hurt is inevitable. We’re human, hurting others will always happen whether we intended to or not. I forgive you love, because I understand what it’s like to be scared of connecting. Especially in the field we’re working in.” His voice is tender and gentle, reassuring you with much sincerity.

He takes the time to really admire every little detail about you. How your hair frames your face. The little scratches and scars from Devil attacks on the cheeks he loves to kiss. How your eyes hold every single emotion that shapes the person you are today.

Your entire being is everything to him.

“You were made to be loved. I don’t care what person or experience made you believe you weren’t but I’m telling you this now sincerely that you were made to be loved inside and out.” 

As each word escapes his lips, he can’t help but inch your face closer and closer and closer until his lips just barely hover over yours.

“Especially by me.”

There was a part of you that wanted to scream at him for lying. For spewing out such bullshit to you at this moment. Cause how can someone so beautiful like him love someone so complex and messy like you? How is that possible?

Whatever the case was, there was a stronger, more hopeful side to you that believes everything he claims. It constantly clashes swords with your insecurities. The same insecurities that made you push him away.

And you know better than to do that now.

He watches the way your eyes light up just a bit as a smile forms. “I love you Aki. Thank you for being…. You.”

It’s after saying that you finally lean in and kiss him with all the same love and care he has for you. He makes no mistake to delay this. Kissing you back with all his entirety. Your souls intertwine through an invisible bond the more the kiss deepens. Unspoken love of affirmations set ablaze the passion you have for each other.

And in that very moment, both of you knew no matter how much time you guys wasted wishing and counting your regrets. You still had each other. As bittersweet as it is, that’s all anyone could ask for.

Well… Aki is hoping he could ask for your hand in marriage but let’s leave that for another time.

A/N: thanks for reading! please let me know if you see any mistakes with the gn!reader pov, this is my first :)

[mehbzz]

I have a feeling I posted this or sent it as an ask somewhere but I just refound it in my WIPs!

I'm having Briar brain rot. So you're either Briar's new, sweet, innocent dancer, one he wants to take time to corrupt himself or his high earning favorite. Not sure which I like more! But - 

Sitting next to Briar in the brothel, watching a show. It's dark, the two of you in his private booth, his arm around your waist. You're dressed in something fitting for the brothel, the only difference is it's something he choose for you. His fingers starting to roam over your thighs, making you squirm. You know you can't protest, he's your boss and he's scarily mean if crossed. So you let him feel you up, whispering filthy things in your ear as you watch some dancer get gangbanged on stage. His fingers getting higher and higher until they're dipping inside your panties and before you can even dream of saying something he's two knuckles deep inside you.

Shushing your whines and whimpers as he fucks you with his fingers as you don't want to ruin the show do you darling? Best keep quiet for him.

If you get too squirmy he tugs you into his lap, spreading your thighs over his so your spread obscenely wide and on show if anyone turned round to look. one hand squeezing your breast while the other continues to tease between your legs.

Probably whispering some dirty filthy commentary in your ear about the show in front of you. How he knows you could suck cock better than they can. Tutting in disappointment about  the mess they're making up there, that you'd be a good girl and wouldn't waste a drop would you? You'd take all those creampies without a fuss.

If you're his innocent newbie then he'll make you cum gently. Easing you over that precipice with a gentle caress. he's promising to break you in gently, you can dance only for him to start with, can perform only with him for now.

If you're his highest earner, he's getting you to cum hard around his fingers. Probably fucking you in time with the brutal pounding the girl on stage is getting. Before he shoves you to your knees to suck him off while he watches the rest of the show. Stroking your hair as you gag around his length. Lighting a cigarette and ordering another drink as he tells you to go slower. He's in no rush, just enjoy his cock darling.

[amourluvie]

"let him in."

(lj x fem! Reader<3 this is kinda inspired by the film "let the right one in" this is just pure cliche,angst and fluff,also this is my first time writing stuff like this so it's kinda shitty+really short so lmk if u want a part 2)

(inspired by the movie "let the right one in" <3 this is basically angst + fluff since u and lj recently had a argument,u being upset him getting scared that u will leave him )

It was a gloomy day,it has been raining all day long and u wanted to go outside badly.to get ur mind off the argument with jack. U were telling him that he can't be with you 24/7 .u had work to do. But he just wouldn't understand so u just left him and stayed in ur room all day,eyes bloodshot from crying, dark circles under ur eyes.,it was all too much,was it guilt? For talking to jack like that?or was it because u were mad? Who knows. But all u needed at times like this now was someone to comfort you. Normally ,jack would be there with you,comforting you,fulfilling ur needs,telling how much he loves you,how much u mean to him,wipping ur tears like no other, you really missed him.u wanted to apologise and got off ur bed where u were rotting in,only to be startled by someone knocking at your door,the voice calling out your name seemed oddly familiar, "y/n..?" Jack again called out your name ,you didn't answer, "please,let me in! Am sorry!I promise I will respect ur boundaries and will do everything u ask me too!" Jack cried out, you just stood in ur room in silence ,and then answered him . "And what if I don't let u in?" You asked which ended up in a eerie silence, jack finally answered back after what it felt like decades, "please ..." u started to realise the fact u were to harsh on him just for him clinging onto you at all times,knowing his abandonment issues and felt guilty , and finally opened the door slowly, he quickly turned his head up and looked into ur eyes and hugged you soo tight u were worried that he's gonna break ur ribs,while chanting the word sorry many times ,u hug him back,while smiling , he's just ur little 7ft tall clown man after all. He's yours and you are his forever.

[topwan-obikin]

SECOND DEADLINE REVEALS ARE UP!

Here it is, the authors reveals for our second deadline of our fest, and the official conclusion of the first edition of our fest!

We are so happy about all the engagement and love you have showed us!! We are so grateful for it and we hope to come back for a second edition too. For now we declare our fest over, but we will still accept post-fest submissions (more details will be added later on this week.)

From this moment on, the authors mentioned in this post will be able to promote their creations however they like! You are free to post your work on your own social media and we will promote it alongside the reveal of your fic. You can include moodboards or other creative images in your promotion! Just be sure to tag the fest in some way.

If instead you didn’t have the chance to look through the creations revealed, now it’s a great time to do it. Give them some love and share the ones you loved more!

From next week, the blog will restart our weekly recs friday and wips wednesday, plus our games. And look out for this weekend because we will drop some content to celebrate the end of our first edition!

Now let’s dive in!

☆ I Bring You With Reverent Hands by Aigoo (Tara) @aigoos

 [Explicit - 5,067 w]

It is supposed to be an easy mission on Lenahra, but things go haywire when Master Anakin Skywalker’s unknown microchip is damaged and causes him to present as an omega. He needs to mate or he will die, is what Padawan Kenobi is told, and the young alpha has to make a choice with the man he’s loved for years.

☆ Eight of Cups by Exonerin @exonerin

 [Explicit - 40,058 w - chapters 8/8]

Anakin’s knighting ceremony is canceled. Somehow, Qui-Gon Jinn has joined the land of the living again, and the Council is too busy figuring out what to do. Washing their hands off the matter, the Council decides to make Qui-Gon Anakin’s and Obi-Wan’s problem. For Anakin, this is a dream come true (minus the mishap with his knighting). He has always wanted Qui-Gon as his Master. Unlike Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon would understand him. This is his chance to experience what having Qui-Gon as sort-of-Master would be like. The answer is as surprising as it’s disappointing. It sucks a lot. Rather than understanding, Qui-Gon misunderstands everything. Half the (disparaging) stuff Qui-Gon says about Obi-Wan flies over his head, too, but Anakin’s convinced Qui-Gon’s trying to drive a wedge between Obi-Wan and him. So, on second thought, Anakin prefers to remain Obi-Wan’s Padawan. Really, there’s no need to reschedule his knighting ceremony.

☆ Untethered Tongues by ashes0909 @ashes0909

 [Explicit - 5,851 w]

“Thank god you got off my lap. You stink more than a trash compactor.” Anakin laughs like he’s said the most amazing joke in the entire galaxy. “The only person I want in my lap is a bit tied up at the moment.” Obi-Wan freezes. Anakin freezes. Then turns a spectacular shade of red. Korrax laughs. “The truth serum always works quick.”

☆ ART by @yatsukisakura

OWK Obi-Wan accidentally time travels back to TCW era, Post-Rako Ardeen arc, hours before Anakin broke up with him that day. He plans to stop that from happening.

☆ Tame ART by @blue-lumen15 (also on ao3)

 [Mature - Fanart]

post-ROTS mustafar fight anakin/vader, limbs chopped off, is immediately saved by obi-wan.

☆ Kalos Kagathos by intermundia @intermundia

 [Explicit - 7,220 w]

At the Battle of Potidaea in 432 BC, Anakin Skywalker and his former tutor Obi-Wan Kenobi served together as hoplites in the phalanx, sharing a tent and meals, living side by side. During the siege, Obi-Wan was drawn by Anakin into a relationship where erotic attention and physical intimacy is mixed into their old, strong mentorship bond. After returning to Athens at the end of the summer campaign season, Obi-Wan distanced himself, refusing to put Anakin’s reputation at risk. Anakin doesn’t take rejection well, and refuses to give up on their love without a fight. He acts out, making Obi-Wan jealous, and gets what he wants in the end: Obi-Wan’s cock inside him.

☆ Tethered and Bound by jiminthestreets_bonesinthesheets @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets

 [Explicit - 20,241 w - chapters 6/6]

Anakin and Obi-wan can never catch a break, and this mission is no different. Unfortunately this time their misfortune comes in the form of three Dathomiri witch sisters, a seemingly unbreakable spell with a potentially fatal outcome, a very short time frame, and an extremely oblivious Jedi Master.

☆ After School Special by hopeforchange

 [Explicit - 23,618 w]

Anakin Skywalker learned how to lie before he knew how to tie his shoelaces. He wouldn’t be able to lead a successful double life if he couldn’t. At the age of twenty-two, he is the most popular stripper at the Starfall Club, the most skillful informant of the Naberrie family, and – the best liar in the world. There’s only one lie he can’t pull off - pretending he feels indifferent toward his drop-dead gorgeous professor.

♥ Ama'ya’s Dance by UsakoStar @usakostar

 [Explicit - 2,162 w - chapters 1/?]

Jedi Dragonrider Anakin Skywalker never expected his Dragon would rise during a planetary battle of all places. Or that his Master’s would answer her call. With the sacred bond between Dragon and Rider extending to shared mating dances, Anakin and Obi-Wan are repeatedly forced to confront the ways their Master-Padawan relationship has changed since Anakin was knighted.

♥ Home by UsakoStar @usakostar

 [Explicit - 3,609 w - chapters 2/?]

Fleeing a dark past, single omega parent Anakin Skywalker moves back to Coruscant in the hopes of giving his young family a fresh start. Alpha Obi-Wan Kenobi has just returned to teaching his kindergarten class after a whirlwind year abroad that ended in disaster. A second chance at love was something neither of them expected.

☆ My Son; My light by Snuggles_in_a_Starfighter

 [Explicit - 4,541 w]

Prompt fill! Single father Obi-wan has spent the past 17 years making sure his beloved boy is raised happy and though they’ve struggled a bit making ends meet when Anakin was younger, Obi-wan always tried his best to make sure he could give everything he could to Anakin. Nowadays, his baby is nearly all grown up and getting offers from universities all across the country, and he’s not feeling ready for the empty nest. To his surprise, his boy doesn’t want to leave his daddy, ever, Anakin decides to seduce the only man who’s ever made him happy into his childhood bed.

☆ Too Hot To Handle by dragons_and_angels @heaven-hell-and-humanity

 [Explicit - 3,607 w]

Obi-Wan and Anakin are in a tight spot. It’s even worse when Anakin suddenly presents as an omega.

♥ Lace by UsakoStar @usakostar

 [Explicit - 1,891 w - chapters 1/2]

When Obi-Wan and Anakin are sent undercover to a high-end slave auction for a vital mission, Obi-Wan had thought it would be a straightforward affair. He hadn’t counted on the lingerie.

♥ the muse: pleasure in bloom by boguspreston & innominatta (ineptia)

[Explicit - 4,166 w - chapters 1/8]

What would the artist focus on? Because so far, Obi-Wan had surprised him. The artist had focused on the sharp of his Adam’s apple, the muscularity of his back, the sullen scowl of his brow. Anakin didn’t know what he’d expected, unsure what about him would be defined as beautiful or interesting. He knew, faintly, that he was considered attractive, and that the artist was too, but if he analysed it, he came up empty. With the belt off, his jeans fell to the ground. Or, Obi-Wan is an artist who finds his muse.

 ☆ Serendipity by Darkwhisperings @dark--whisperings

 [Explicit - 6,032 w]

An accidental discovery on the holonet leads Anakin to a personal discovery about himself. And his Master. The rest, well, that's a happy accident.

☆ The Divinely Made by silkenlysleep @silkenlysleep

 [Explicit - 6,142 w]

Anakin has a choking kink. Or, until Obi-Wan decides he doesn’t.

♥ Electric Buzzing on Your Fingertips by deathbyobiwan @deathbyobiwan

[Explicit - 3,656 w - chapters 1/2]

As his Padawan grows into a man, Obi-Wan begins to be driven mad by the amount of unwanted attention that he receives. So does Anakin — the only upside is his former Master's increasingly displeased reactions. Surely it's not Anakin's fault, then, when he starts flirting with his suitors just to see what Obi-Wan will do?

♥ Like mine by Himboskywalker @himboskywalker

[Explicit - 3,027 w - chapters 1/2]

Anakin has never known his own scent after presenting as an alpha. Jedi use blockers to protect themselves from the dangerous pulls of instinct,and the even more dangerous pull of scenting one’s soulmate. More importantly he’s never known Obi-Wan’s scent. An important treaty with a culture who outlaw scent blockers changes everything.

♥ Curriculum Vitae by StrangeLilBat

[Explicit - 2,948 w - chapters 1/3]

Relationships come and go for Anakin Skywalker like the changing of seasons. Not by his choice, but through some cruel trick of the universe, he supposes. Enter Obi-Wan Kenobi - actor, millionaire, and all around good guy who also hasn't had much luck with his past endeavours. Will their relationship finally be the one they've been waiting and hoping for?

☆ the taste is oh so sweet by amadwinter @amadwinter

[Mature - 3,209 w]

Obi-Wan’s unimpressed glare wasn’t enough to shake Anakin’s resolve, nor was the purse of his frown, the way he folded his arms tightly over his chest, or how he looked seconds away from biting Anakin’s head off. Anakin knew what he had to do. What they had to do. He just hoped his racing pulse didn’t betray his true feelings. “I want you to feed from me directly.” Obi-Wan hasn't taken very well to his new diet after becoming a vampire. He would rather suffer in silence. Anakin won't let him.

☆ This Sacred Skin by silkenlysleep @silkenlysleep

[Explicit - 6,069 w]

Obi-Wan never knew Anakin could look good in white. Or, that he would lose his mind over it.

☆ ART by @yatsukisakura

First part of a obikin Agatha Christie style adaptation

♥ designed for cruelty by spitfired @spitefyre

[Explicit - 1,937 w - chapters 1/?]

And maybe the world was ending, maybe he was losing his mind. His gums ached and his vision was swimming. From the back of his throat, he choked out a growl, a groaning whine of need and confusion. But Anakin was by his side, and so he was sure they would be okay in the end. Or: In which Obi-Wan and Anakin are not alphas or omegas, because those don‘t exist. And then suddenly, they are, because why not?

♥ How Civilised by Quastake

[Explicit - 1,557 w - chapters 1/?]

Anakin thinks he’s ready to be knighted. His master, Mace Windu, does not agree. To prove himself, Anakin challenges a strange creature that has been kidnapping civilians. However, his normally flawless strategy of attack first, ask questions later may not be so solid after all.

☆ So Good For Me by dragons_and_angels @heaven-hell-and-humanity

[Explicit - 3,854 w]

Obi-Wan wondered if it was possible for someone to lose their mind over being denied an orgasm.

♥ A slip of the tongue by Viraha @virahaus

[Explicit - 1,835 w - chapters 1/2]

Two years after the end of the Clone Wars and the unmasking of Sidious' identity, Obi-Wan and Anakin are in what other people would call their 'honeymoon phase'. It would be better if they'd actually listened to Mace's advice and took a vacation months ago instead of thinking about it now, for the all the other Jedi peace of mind. After all, Obi-Wan (and half the jedi council) is about to discover what an half asleep, half horny Anakin is capable of to keep the attention of his Master on him all day long. Or, what happens when Anakin calls Obi-Wan 'daddy' in public and pretends to not know what he's doing.

If you know the handles of any of the authors we revealed today we did not tag, please let us know and we’ll add them!

You want to join our community and chat a bit? Join our discord server, invite here.

Twitter thread Pt1 - Pt2.

[malicedragoness]

NSFW REIKO X F!READER HEADCANONS

I didn’t realize this was almost 1K words, and I still feel like I didn’t get to put everything I want. So there may be a part 2 to this. But I want to get some of my other WIPs done first. You can see what I’m working on with my Pinned Post.

The Reiko brain rot is intense yall. And I blame @brittlecakes92 @bihansthot @mintspider for being the main Reiko hoes.

NSFW under the cut. Minors do not enter beyond this point. If you do, you’re taking full responsibility for yourself.

-Reiko doesn’t mind getting roughed up a bit during sex. In fact, with his dangerous life as a soldier, he’s used to it and loves it. It feels familiar to him. Pulling his hair, scratching his back, biting him, slapping his face, choking him, spitting on him. He loves to see all the marks you leave on him when he first wakes up in the morning. (When he said “I love the smell of kombat in the morning.” He wasn’t talking about kombat.)

So don’t be surprised if he walks around in his hoochie armor (yes, it’s hoochie armor. Because that armor won’t protect a damn thing on his perfect body) showing them off. And Reiko is either completely oblivious to all the stares he gets, or he just doesn’t care.

Cause he could wake up and have his entire back scratched up, hickies on his neck, and bruises from the bite marks you left on his abs and tiddies. And simply put on a pair of pants to go buy tomatoes from the local market, and not be bothered by the stares he receives.

-Speaking of not giving a fuck. He also doesn’t care who sees him naked. It’s not that he gets off on it. It’s from being a soldier all his life. When they’re out on a mission and need to urinate or bathe, they do so with the company around. They don’t have the same privacy normal citizens do. That’s his normal.

So there may be times when someone wakes y’all up with a knock on the door, and Reiko answers it butt naked. Morning wood and all. And simply asks, “what is it?”

Now when it comes to someone seeing you naked, he’ll beat them to a pulp. Butt naked. No fucks given.

-Reiko loves to display his strength. He typically loves positions where he can stand and hold you in his arms. He would have you put your arms around his neck and pick you up with your knees on his forearms and fuck you standing.

He also likes to surprise you with your legs wrapped around his head and then stand up, your back against wall and your head is almost touching the ceiling.

If you’re watching him train with the soldiers, he might go harder on them than usual. He wants to impress you and he wants all of your attention on him.

-Reiko doesn’t mind getting nasty during sex. What I mean is that once you’re his, every part of you is his. He will lick, kiss, and suck every inch of you. It’s part of his undying devotion to you.

Including that ass. He’ll kiss and bite those ass cheeks and bury his head between them, worshipping your forbidden hole.

Another example, you’re laying down and Reiko has got you in the missionary position but he’s sitting up, watching his cock go in and out of you. And if you press your feet into his face, or lock them behind his head, he doesn’t care. It’s not that he has a foot fetish. He loves and accepts every part of you.

He will also lick the sweat of your body during and after sex. He’ll also pounce on you when he’s all sweaty after training or fighting. If he’s covered in blood, he’ll make sure not to stick his fingers in any of your holes.

-Reiko also has a huge spit kink. Don’t tell me he doesn’t, because he does. He likes to pull your head back by your hair, squeeze your mouth open, and let a dribble of spit hit your tongue.

He’ll also spit on your chest, ass cheeks, and your pussy. And if you decide to spit on him, he likes it when you do it on his abs and his cock.

-Brat Tamer. That’s an official title he has because he’s the best in the land at what he does. So if you’ve been a thorn in his side all day, expect some retribution that night when you get home. Reiko is a soldier, discipline and punishment go hand in hand.

Expect him to spank that ass and then force you on your knees, his hand grabbing your jaw to force you to look at him, as he talks through his teeth.

“You will listen to me and obey my every command.

“One, you will only speak when spoken to.

“Two, you will only be able to say my name, or ‘yes Master.’ You will not say any thing else.

“Three, if I tell you to open your mouth, you will take whatever I put in there.

“Do not make me repeat myself at any time. Do you understand, you little slut?”

You better answer soon, because he doesn’t like waiting. Expect your punishments to be spanking, choking, orgasm denial, and then followed up by overstimulation.

I told you. He’s the best Brat Tamer in Outworld.

-Anal sex. Reiko is an ass man and I will gladly go to war and die on this hill. Anal sex turns him the fuck on. He’ll take his time to get you properly stretched out, worshipping your hole with his tongue and fingers, even if it takes a few days. Once he sees the tip of his cock disappear into your ass, he will let out the most feral growl you’ve ever heard.

If you let him do anal every week he’ll probably marry you within a month. He loves ass. But this goes both ways. If you want to stick a finger into his ass and rub his prostate while giving him a blowjob, he will not say no. In fact, he’ll put a baby in you.

-One last thing to keep in mind. Reiko would never force you into anything you’re not comfortable with. You don’t want to do anal? No problem. You don’t like him spitting on you? That’s understandable.

He would never do anything without your consent. Because sex is supposed to be enjoyable for both partners. And the last thing he would want is to make you uncomfortable or to hurt you.

He worships the ground you walk on, and he would kill any motherfucker that would make you feel less about yourself.

If having a safe word would ease any worries you have, then he will commit it to memory. Anything for you.

After all, he lives to serve. 😉

[olenvasynyt]

Remembering the smell of rotten apples!

Two snippets from my three-shot fic Remembering the Smell of Rotting Apples, where Lucien and Feyre reconcile. Harsh words are exchanged, memories are brought up, paintings are painted, and tears are fucking shed 👍

WIP folder - for other WIPs you can ask about!

Lucien stood out like a blazing wildfire in the depths of night, but he was just hard to catch.  And just as difficult to cool.  He slipped into an alleyway, his cloak bustling out behind him.  When Feyre managed to push her way through the crowd and slip into the alley herself, the red-haired male was already facing her with his arms crossed.

“Are you stalking me, High Lady?”

She crossed her own arms.  “I’m a good tracker, as you well know.”

He leaned up against the alleyway and tilted his head, his face cold. “I thought you had spies to do that for you now.  I try to avoid shadows because of that, but that’s hard to do in the Night Court.”

She suppressed the urge to tell him off, that an emissary should not speak about his Court in that way.  She retorted, “Spotting you is easy.  Catching you is harder.”

He gave a dry smile.  “And now you’ve caught me.”

He turned again and continued down the tight street and Feyre clenched her teeth at the sheer boldness of it.  But she followed him, jogging to catch up, even though his pace was leisurely.

“And you’re avoiding me.”

He did not answer to confirm or deny.  She continued, “I’ve only seen you at meetings.  I hoped when you came to your Court for leisure you would stop by and say hello.”

Your Court.  It was his Court; she had welcomed him, given him a place to live, a position…

“Feyre, if I haven’t stopped by the River House, then maybe it’s for a reason.”

----

Only one side of his face was wet with tears.  How odd that must have felt to him, to only be able to cry so much.  Though she assumed he was used to the differences of having one eye versus two, she didn’t know how often her friend cried.  This was the first time she had ever seen it.

Feyre blinked her own tears away, suddenly realizing Lucien was standing up.  He placed his empty glass clumsily on the side table.  

“I’m going…I’m going to go.”

She swayed with him as she stood up herself and watched him go to the door, tugging on his cloak.  She should have offered him to stay the night to sober up, offered him her condolences, something.  But all she could manage was, “Okay.”  Her words were heavy with liquor.  “I’m…I’m  sorry—”

Lucien was already out the door.  When it shut, the art studio fell into a sudden, unbearable silence.

[faeriecinna]

Five Things I Like About Writing

Thanks @somethingclevermahogony and @theeccentricraven for the tag! Be warned I'm probably gonna ramble.

1) Inner Child Healing: Since I was super little, reading all the time and watching my dad write his book, I always said I wanted to be a writer. I gave up on that while I was still in formal education (thank you, Gifted Kid Burnout) so going back to my roots now and writing my goofy lil novels is something I know little me would think is super fucking cool.

2) Self Indulgence: My biggest pet peeve when reading is when I want to read something so incredibly specific that I know no one else will have wrote yet and it gnaws at me for weeks, so writing allows me to write what I want to read and have it instantly and readily available lmao.

3) World/Character Building: As a chronic (maladaptive) daydreamer who was told several times as a child that their imagination was too wild, getting to spend hours dreaming up my own little worlds and characters and then bringing them to life on paper is like a dream come true. And getting to share them with other people??? Stunning.

4) Productivity: Before seriously working on my WIPs, when I had a day off work I'd find myself aimlessly wandering around the house tidying, or rotting in bed and I hated it and would honestly rather have just gone to work. But now that I have my silly little dudes and their silly little worlds to write about, I feel productive on a day off whether I write 300 words or 3K. Good for my mental health innit.

5) An Excuse To Read: Linking back to the above point, I kinda stopped reading for a while after college because I found that I didn't feel productive enough if I was just chilling out with a book - but NOW it counts as research sooooo 😈

Ans I wanna tag @darkangel319 @panticwritten and @jinnybinghamsghost

[walkingstackofbooks]

Trying to decide what I want to work on right now and so to procrastinate I thought it'd be fun to share my current WIPs with you all (omg how did I get so manyyyyy)

Feel free to shout encouragement at me if there's any that particularly pique your interest! :P

Anyway, in order of how recently I've worked on them:

1. Prompt - what if Kukulaka got broken and Garak repaired him?

Coming soon? 80% it'll be done in the next week: I'm hoping to just bash it out at some point, but even though it's short and self-contained, it's hardddd...

2. Unexpected Chapter 2 of Imprisoned. Absolute Sloanshir rot: Sloan provides Julian with more "help", Julian gets increasingly confused/grateful/flustered/fucked

Coming soon? Almost 100% you're gonna see it next week - I am hype and should should should get to the end once I have an evening to myself ;)

3. Prompt - "I don't trust myself to be good to myself right now, but I need someone to be good to me." Conversations between Miles and Julian at various points in the series when they've hit rock bottom and need pulling out.

Coming soon? No... I've written one post-DBIP scene but I'd at least want the post-Argrathi scene and the rest of the DBIP stuff to be done before I put anything up, if not the whole thing... It's definitely a long fic I'll be returning to in fits and bursts. (sorry, prompter...)

4. Prompt - Garak and Julian's first conversation post-IPS/BIL.

Coming soon? It's a strong contender for next week - I was super hype for it when I started but then work interceded and I just haven't got back to it yet. It is a priority, though!

5. Pre-DBIP: a few moments where Julian's unspoken issues with his parents cause friction for him but go unnoticed by his friends. Post-DBIP a similar moment happens and is recognised for what it is. Featuring Julian + beets.

Coming soon? I really don't know. I've got a strong vision for it and scene one (of four) is done, but it's kind of stuttered since then.

6. Julian starts to neglect his self-care, leading to him passing out in the infirmary. Sisko would like to know what the hell happened.

Coming soon? It's already on tumblr in a rough and ready form, so editing to put on AO3 might well happen in the next week - and I'd say a 50% chance of something extra with that?

7. Chapter 2 of At Their Mercy. Alpha!Garak takes over with Omega!Julian where Kira left off... 😉😉😉

Coming soon? Gahhh, I have written this several times over in my brain, but getting the start of this chapter has been proving difficult. Definitely not until after the Imprisoned chapter is done.

8. Why Leeta Kept Kukulaka And How Julian Did Try To Ask For Him Back. Just cute, fluffy gap-filling; I love both of them.

Coming soon? Probably not. Only the outline has been written tbh and this hasn't caught my fancy in a while.

9. "Acts of God": A runabout crashes on a planet where medical intervention is outlawed. Unable to help his injured friends and forbidden from alleviating the suffering he sees around him, Julian has a very bad time...

Coming soon? No, I think this is probably going to be an after-VIsion-Awry project rather than a can-i-get-it-done-first one.

10. "Sloan's planet": Sloan is Julian's s31 handler, sending him out on all sorts of missions... but the missions are fake, Sloan using the holosuite to manipulate Julian pretty much any way he wants...

Coming soon? Possibly. This has more of a series vibe maybe with a few distinct one-shots, so if I get a short idea I might bash it out 🤷‍♀️ Sloanshir's often just so easy to fall into.. 🤣

11. Keiko + Molly + Julian + drawing post-DBIP. Julian's not very good at it, and it's a bit feels but a lot of fluff.

Coming soon? Well I haven't touched it since April but I do smile whenever I remember it exists (and looking at the file, more was written than I remember!)

Welp - and that's not even counting the myriad other ideas floating around my tumblr/ in my head! Or the fact that I have probably another 15-20k of Vision Awry to go... Well, here's looking forward to my August of writing!

(Which I'll definitely have... if I stop procrastinating! :P)