#or i might just be shitting out of my pants

[sunarinscat]

Nsfw below the cut!!

Thinking about Kaminari who is so, so good for you.

When you come home frustrated from work or school, and you don't even have to say anything, you simply exchange a look. He knows.

You drop your bag to the floor and saunter across the room, taking a seat on the couch. You cross your legs and sink into the cushions. The exhaustion of the day pulls you deeper into the couch as you mull over the shitty people you've had to put up with. As you huff and sigh Kaminari slinks over, sugary sweet. You think you could get drunk off of the way he looks at you when you're like this. When he knows what's coming.

"How was your day baby?" He murmurs as he drops to all fours.

He all but crawls over to you, sliding his nimble fingers between your legs and prying your thighs apart. Your fingers find their way to his hair as you mumble something unintelligible in response. He looks up at you from between your legs, batting his long lashes, begging for something unspoken.

"That bad? Need me to make it all better?"

You nod. You can feel his little breaths on your thigh. It sends a delicious tingle up your spine. You can see how worked up he's getting, the way his pants have become tight, and his cheeks flushed.

"Tell me mama. Tell me I can make you feel better. Jus' wanna make you feel better. Please."

You'd trained him never to act without permission and you almost wanted to deny him right then and there. To force him to sit there and watch while you helped yourself feel better, with his hands behind his back. Unable to do anything but writhe while his cock strained against his pants, twisting with desire to touch you. But really, how could you say no to those puppy eyes? He was excellent at begging.

"M'kay. Make me feel better baby."

He's all over you in an instant. His hands pulling down your tights and lips pressing little kisses against the plush flesh of your tummy and thighs. He nips at your inner thigh, and you gasp, shooting him a look. He grins sheepishly and kisses over the spot. His fingers move to rub gentle, painfully slow circles against your clit through your panties and you whine. He keeps his eyes on yours the whole time as he continues with the torturously slow pace, and you hold his gaze.

"Need to taste you.."

You nod and open your legs a little further.

"Go right ahead sweetheart."

He takes this as an invite to replace his fingers with his mouth. Your panties are already soaked, and he languidly sucks on the fabric. Your hands pull at his hair as your head falls back against the couch cushions. The feeling of his hot mouth and the texture of the fabric against your pussy has you reeling. The sensation building in your tummy and the way that he looks up at you from his place between your things has you losing your shit. Your hands tug at his hair, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes dewy. He moans into your pussy, and you cry out.

"Fuck Kami' so good for me. Such a good fucking boy. Oh, my goddd."

You don't even have the time of day to be embarrassed about the sounds coming out of your mouth. Kaminari knows exactly what the fuck he's doing, and he's doing it well. His tongue swirls against your clit, drawing figure eights into your folds. He sucks, hard and everything spins. he releases your clit with a wet pop, and you whine at the loss of contact. He shoots you a small smile.

"Don't worry. Gon' make you feel even better. I got you."

He pulls your panties off of your legs, relishing how fucking wet they are before he's back at your cunt. Lapping at you like a dog. He brings his fingers to your entrance and circles it a few times before sticking two in. His fingers are so deliciously long. Maybe it's something to do with his gaming addiction but he knows how to curve them just right.

"Taste so good mama.. Fuck. Can't get enough of you."

His voice vibrates through your cunt. His mouth is on your clit and he's fucking you on his fingers so good you think you might cry. It's too much, you can feel it coming, that pressure rising in your tummy. You rip him away from your cunt.

"C'mere baby. Up on the couch. Need you to fill me up. You can do that for me right baby?"

You all but drag him onto the couch and straddle him. Your wet pussy rubs against the fabric of his jeans and you moan. You grind yourself against him a few times, pushing his shoulders into the cushions as you kiss him roughly. His hand travel under your shirt as he kisses you right back, hips lifting to meet yours. You break the kiss and hurriedly unbutton his pants and rip off his boxers. You salivate at the sight of his dick, flushed and leaking with precum. You wipe the leaking tip with your thumb and bring it to your mouth. Kaminari lets out a groan as your tongue swirls around you finger. You smirk and resume kissing him as one hand goes to line his dick up with your entrance.

Slamming down on him, you cry out in satisfaction. This is exactly what you needed after today. Kaminari fiddles with your shirt and you brush the hair out of his face as you help him get your top off. You unclip your bra as you roll your hips against his. You allow him to suck harsh kisses into your neck and across your chest as you pound your hips down again and again. His mouth, his skin, his warmth feels ethereal. You grasp one of his hands in your own as you continue to work yourself on his dick.

"Love you so much baby. Such a good boy fer' me."

You're drunk off the way he feels. The way he acts. So pliant for you, so obedient, so good. Making you feel so good. The way he sits there and takes it as you spend yourself on him. He shifts to get better access to your neck and angles his hips, hitting a spot inside you that has you seeing stars for the nth time. You begin to shake and grip at his shoulders as you struggle to keep the pace. "Kami you feel so good ohmygod fuck. Please, please, please." You whine.

But the fatigue of the day is catching up to you. You hadn't realized just how exhausted you were. You groan in frustration, arms shaking as you try to reach your high. Kaminari is panting as your hips stutter. He reaches and arm behind your head and brings your forehead to his.

"Let me help you. Jus' wanna make you cum. Promise I'll be so good. Let me do it I got *haah* I got you."

Through tears of frustration you nod, leaning into his touch.

"Make me cum baby."

With that he flips you onto your back, caging you in his arms and fucking into you so hard your seeing start with every thrust. One hand reaches down to rub circles into your clit as he kisses your tears away.

"Cum for me mama I got you. I'm right here. Your good boy. Jus' wan you to feel better. Cream on my cock." He moans.

His fingers on your clit and his dick hitting that spot repeatedly send you over the edge and you pull him close as your body spasms and twitches. The cord snaps and you let something nasty come out your mouth as your toes curl. He thrusts a few more times before pulling out and covering your tummy in cum.

You close your eyes and rest for a minute, breathing hard.

"See, don't you feel better?"

You laugh hoarsely.

"Much. Always know how to make me feel better Kami."

You place a peck on his lips as he gathers you up in his arms and hauls you over to the bathroom to draw a warm bath.

[slightly-knot-insane]

Idea for fic: where the reader is on the bed teasing the monster that they tied to the wall with a rope or chain and is some how holding the chain (kinda like a pulley system) and accidentally lets go of the chain and the monster pounces on them ;)

a/n: Hehehe, I love this! :3 Thank you for the ask!

Hung-Over

[ m!monster x fem!reader ]

content: grinding

You wait for him to wake up, your arms crossed, a pout on your mouth. You tug the rope around his legs, trying to wake him up faster - you were becoming irritatingly impatient.

With a long yawn followed by a grunt, he opens one eye. "Oh shit... Everything hurts." He notices you and immediately wakes up, his eyes dilating in panic. "I'm... in trouble?"

"You got drunk again!" you snap. "You got drunk again, forgot your phone at a pub, and barged in through the door like a rhino!"

"I broke our door again?"

"No, luckily you were able to use the lock, but you slammed the door so hard, I think the wall next to it cracked."

"I'm so sorry, love, I—" He frowns and wriggles his arms and legs. Or better said - tries to. "Why are my wrists and ankles tied?"

"I told you I'll punish you if you scare me like that again. Now you're hungover, tied and will watch Pawn Stars all morning."

"NO!" He roars, anguish written all over his face. "You know how much I hate those cheapskates! Ow... my head..."

You turn on the TV sit in the armchair next to your bed and grab a huge bowl of popcorn you already prepared. You enjoy the grunts and annoyed comments your boyfriend throws at the TV.

After one episode finishes, you look at your prisoner and see him straining to grab the end of one of the ropes, probably intending to either pull it or just chew it off. "Hey!" You jump on the bed and smack his hand away. You stand above him, legs spread and arms akimbo. "You could just apologize and admit you fucked up."

He eyes you from your ankles to your lips. "Didn't I?"

"You can be a real prick sometimes, you know that?"

He sighs. "I know and I am sorry. But I always forget my stuff when I'm drunk." You take the rope and pull it, quartering your boyfriend a little bit more. "Ouch!"

"Ask some of your friends to watch it for you before you get completely pissed. Seriously. I was so worried."

He looks at you, puppy eyes mode on. "Really? You love me that much?"

You click your tongue and pull the rope again, the elaborate pulley system you prepared while your boyfriend was passed out on your bed doing what it's supposed to. He grunts and... laughs? You look down and roll your eyes. A big lump is formed under his boxers. "You really are a freak."

"You know it, babe," he smirks and his tail (that sneakily coiled around your ankle while you weren't paying attention) lifts your leg up. With a yelp you fall on the bed and let go of the rope. A perfect opportunity for him. He simply sits up and, with a yank, pulls one of the ropes out of the pulleys. While you wrestle with his strong tail pinning you into the mattress, he frees his legs and lays on top of you. His wrists remain tied together but that doesn't bother him - he pulls your arms above your head and places himself between your legs. "Aaah, finally. Where I'm supposed to be."

His bulge presses against your groin and you can't escape getting hot under his warm weight. "You asshole..."

He keeps moving his hips up and down, grinding his hardness against your soft folds. He kisses you, moaning even before you do. You push yourself up, to feel him more. He spreads your legs further with every futile push. You feel his cock prodding against your entrance but your clothes are holding it captured. The desperate rolls of your boyfriends pelvis indicate he just might be close... And you are as well. You pant, lick your dry lips wanting to taste his delicious cock and ride it to your orgasm. But all you can do is angrily rub against him, sliding up and down his bent shaft. It becomes almost unbearable and painful, but pleasure building up soothes every burning nerve. You climax grinding against his stomach. He laughs, triumphantly letting you go and getting his cock out. Through his tied hands he blows his load onto you, staining your PJs and hair. But all you can do is laugh with him.

He kisses your sweaty forehead. "I'm sorry for making you worried. I promise I won't let this happen again. If..."

You raise your eyebrow. "If?"

"If we don't dismantle this wonderful pulley system you came up with. I'm sure it will come in very useful in the future."

[fushiguruuzzzz]

જ⁀ SAY IT TO MY FACE

“It was rare for Yuji Itadori to keep things from you. He didn’t like keeping secrets, it made something tight bud in his chest and made him feel guilty every time he looked at you. He only ever kept one secret, not only from you, but from the world.”

Now playing :: Rises The Moon — Liana Flores

Yuji Itadori x F!Reader

Words — 5.7k

Contents — 4+1 fic, violence, kidnapping, distress, mentions of death/loss, I can’t write fights for shit, no actual angst this time because I feel bad for hurting people again and again oops, but maybe angst if you squint?, I don’t proofread, lmk if I missed any <3

In a mess of crushing expectations and unfamiliar fluttering in your chest, you somehow cross paths with Tokyo’s one and only Spiderman. Maybe the eerie similarity he has to your best friend isn’t a coincidence at all, nor is the odd care he has for you. OR Four times Spiderman loved you, one time Yuji did it himself.

a/n — hi sofia yes this is for you teehee @rreveurdoll . I actually love spiderman yuji so much he’s been sitting in my notes app since august he just suits it saurrrrrrrr well I can’t do this it’s so uhghhughf. Also iera agreed with me so it was my final push hai ily

There was always a certain sort of familiarity about spiderman, a tranquil warmth that reminded you of something you could never quite put your finger on. It radiated from him like aura, constantly flowing but never really explaining itself. It was apparent in the way he held you—arm under your knees and another around your shoulders, almost as if he knew you were ticklish in the sides, like he knew you better than you knew yourself. The way he talked to you like he’d done it a million times before, his eyes lingering on the curve of your lips for just a beat too long, it was just so… knowing. Every time he interacted with you, it felt like he knew something you didn’t. That was because, well, he did.

It was rare for Yuji Itadori to keep things from you. He didn’t like keeping secrets, it made something wretched bud in his chest and made him feel guilty every time he looked at you. He only ever kept one secret, not only from you, but from the world. The hundreds, maybe thousands of people that might kill him if given the chance. And if you knew, maybe they’d get to you too. He couldn’t have that. It already haunted his every waking moment and it hadn’t even happened yet. Yet. That was the thing, it could happen at any moment. If he was the cause of your demise, he couldn’t forgive himself. So he tried his best, tried to keep his lips sealed the best he could, even if he struggled sometimes.

The first time you met spiderman, he almost screwed up. Already.

You’d somehow gotten caught up in the midst of a battle, the bakery you worked at getting completely annihilated by the commotion, so being the ever brave and courageous citizen you were, you ran for your fucking life. You somehow found it in you to remain at least relatively calm… until barely dodging a chunk of concrete thrown your way. The composure seemed to fade from there. You could feel your heart jumping out of your chest, but all you could think about was that you were lucky it was still beating.

That’s when he came swinging in. Literally. It was a flash of red out of the corner of your eye at first, you barely even paid any mind to it. But then his voice rang out with a call to you, and you couldn’t look the other way anymore.

“Hey! Y- miss!”

You took a moment to glance back, your loss of breath catching up to you as you panted and heaved. His feet hitting the ground was nothing but a small thump, swallowed up by the chaos bleeding in around you. “You can’t be out in the open like this. It’s dangerous.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you could basically hear the furrow of his brows. Through your pants, you managed gasp out a reply that you fear was just a bit too sassy. “I know. That’s why I’m running.”

His face fell just the slightest bit under the mask, but beneath that layer of latex was almost a smile. He found it hard to be amused right now, because honestly, when he saw you he felt like throwing up. Even before that, when he’d looked at the destroyed shell of what was your workplace, something sick twisted in his gut. It wasn’t fear, no, more than that. After every punch at the enemy came a glance among the crowd, desperately hoping to see you in one piece. When he landed in front of you and the first thing you’d said was dry and sassy and completely you, he couldn’t help the way his nerves felt just a little less racked. He wanted to hug you, to pull you into his arms and tell you how happy he was to see you, maybe get a kiss if he was lucky– huh?

But he wasn’t Yuji, and only Yuji had that sort of privilege. He was spiderman. He was a masked vigilante that you’d never been face to face with, so he tried to keep up the act. Therefore all he did was reply with a soft “yeah” before scooping you up and carrying you to safety, because that’s what spiderman does. He would’ve done it for anyone, really! But he handled you with just a bit more care, just a bit more warmth in those blank white eyes of his suit, because you weren’t just anyone. You were you.

He left you on the side of an untouched street feeling breathless and confused. Maybe you were naive, because his voice alone should’ve told you exactly who it was from the beginning. But there was a ringing in your ears from the noise, and your knees felt wobbly as well as your lips. You could barely think straight, so who could blame you? Mentally unmasking Tokyos famous spiderman wasn’t a common task in any situation, especially yours. Assuming it was your best friend felt crazy. Instead you remained oblivious and shaken on the side of the street, and he remained determined in the fight thinking of nothing but you.

— ⋮ ᰔ

The second time you met spiderman, the circumstances still weren’t great, but this time your life wasn’t on the line. Well, at least not literally.

The nights air was cold, nipping at your tear stained cheeks and clinging to the dampness left in its wake. Your eyes stung, both from the chill and the bitterness that welled up in your waterline and spilled over, only to drip down and fade away into the fabric of your jeans. Completely insignificant, but to you, they fell heavy. They beat down on you in a mocking rhythm, every droplet a reminder of the crushing weight of your failure. It was suffocating, but truly, would the lightness be any better? Would the complete lack of fulfillment, whether that be bliss or anguish, be less unbearable than the ache in your shoulders and the squeezing in your chest? You think that if it were, you wouldn’t still be sticking around. You wouldn’t be doing this. You just would’ve liked to feel less alone in the midst of it.

Your legs dangled freely over the stairs, the rusted metal of the fire escape not doing much to cage you in. As you swung them, felt nothing but air and the awareness of the ground so distant below, you got a taste of the lightness. A taste of your freedom, of your insignificance. Maybe that was all you needed to handle the rest of the weight.

As if your longing had been personally alerted to the universe, you heard a shuffling behind you. Your head whipped around just a little too fast—making something in your neck pop and reminding you that you really need to stop hunching over your laptop—enough to make your panic rather obvious. You were about to wonder how someone even made it up here, but then you saw him. The culprit stopped in his tracks, raising his two covered hands in an (unnecessary) surrender. It wasn’t like you could defend yourself if you tried, anyway. You were sat awkwardly on a set of rusted metal stairs with about two feet of space to run. You were no match for him. Fortunately for you, Yuj- spiderman wouldn’t dare hurt you. When you continued to stare at him through your teary eyes with a question he couldn’t answer, he realized he hadn’t come up with something to say. Luckily, you beat him to it.

“…spiderman?” Your voice was confused, small and almost weak as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. He stared at you for a moment, only then remembering who he was. Right now he was spiderman, a stranger, and he had to act accordingly. The thing was—Yuji didn’t know how to act like a stranger to you. You’d become such a constant in each others lives that treating you as if you were unfamiliar simply defied the blood in his veins, the beating of his heart. He felt it thump angrily in his chest at the mere thought, because how could he feign distance when you were the one it beat for?

He cleared his throat. “Hi.”

A million questions ran through your head, countless quips or remarks, but your throat constricted around them and forbid them from jumping out. “Why are you… here?” you asked. Your voice was uncharacteristically bland, tired. He didn’t like it.

He shrugged, head tilting to the side. He leaned against the building, an attempt to be casual, but the brick was digging into his back and every sense he had was screaming at him to leap forward and hold you, to take the mask off and be who you needed. But when he considered the thought, the images of what might follow flashed through his mind like memories yet to come. He kept the mask on.

“Well, I was out… you know… doing spiderman things. And then I saw you. Looked like you could use a friend.”

Honestly? Yuji being out here was no sort of coincidence. The moment he’d felt a familiar tingling in the back of his mind, he was landing here before he could question why. In his soul, he knew why, knew it better than anyone. If Yuji couldn’t be there for you because he was spiderman, spiderman would have to fill in.

He paused, eyes trailing over the sag in your shoulders and the darkness under your eyes. You looked different than the last time he’d seen you—had it been weeks? A pang of something glum shot through him at the realization.

“What about you?” he asked, that teasing, spiderman-esque tone fading into something softer.

“Huh?”

“What’re you doing out here?”

You swallowed thickly. You felt as if you were stuck on a tightrope, looking between a reaching hand and the ground below. Let him slip his hand into yours, hoping it pulls you up, or fall? You were willing to take that risk. “Just… been fucking up a lot lately, I guess. This is my escape.”

He paused for a second. “Was that a pun?”

He felt victorious as he took in the subtle curl of your lips. “But forreal, what do you mean screwing up?”

A soft sigh left your lips, the air pooling in what looked like smoke around your face. You liked that—you could tell yourself that was the reason for your blurry vision, not that you were crying. Your fingers were twitching, and he wished he could take them.

“Just… nothing has been going right. Got my ass kicked by finals, I feel like shit, and- and usually I’d have my best friend, but…” you felt a painful throbbing in your chest, what you were about to admit feeling sour and wrong on your tongue. “He hasn’t been answering lately, he’s been… distant. Maybe he’s getting sick of me or something, I wish I knew.”

Yuji felt a tightening in his chest that was almost painful. Him. It was him. His spider sense had called him to fix a problem that he was the cause of. Sick of you? No, he could never be sick of you, but right now he felt ill. “He’d never,” he blurted without thinking, only realizing how odd that sounded once it had already reached your ears. “I mean– I’m sure he loves you.” His eyes widened comically. He kept blabbering, and it was only making things worse. “You seem lovely. Uh-“

To his surprise, you laughed. “Okay, okay, I get the point. Thanks… I think?”

He felt the heat that was crawling up his neck lower, simmer into a comfortable nothingness. “You’re welcome.”

By some strange coincidence, Yuji showed up at your door what must’ve been a mere three hours after your masked friend swung away into the night.

He seemed out of breath—almost panting, as if he’d just run a marathon (or fought the green goblin). He stood in your doorway, pink locks of hair rubbed in all different directions, chest rising and falling erratically.

Before you could open your mouth—ask what he was doing here and what sort of physical activity he was doing in the middle of the night, maybe—he was hugging you. His firm arms slithered around your waist, tugging you towards his chest without a word. He held you just a little tighter than usual, like he’d been waiting to do it for far too long. He had been.

“I haven’t seen you in two weeks,” he murmured, breath warm against your skin.

“I know.” Your words held a sense of bitterness, but you were hugging him back with a tenderness that contrasted what you wanted to feel.

“I missed you.”

How could he say something like that? How could he disappear for weeks and then come back and make your heart clench, because you know he means it? This was Yuji. Your Yuji. He talked to stray cats on the side of the road and was always there to lend a helping hand, whether that be to a sweet old lady or a convicted felon. He wouldn’t say he missed you if he didn’t, and either way, you knew he did. Whether it felt like it or not, you knew Yuji. You knew he missed you, felt it in the way his fingers gripped at the fabric of your shirt. It was almost desperate, like he was a shell of a man in need of fulfillment. As much as you wished you hated it, you wanted to be that for him.

That’s how you ended curled in bed, Yuji’s eyes trailing over your face for just a little too long, so much so that you weren’t sure he’d paid any attention to the movie in the first place. You didn’t say anything, but Yuji kept you just a little bit closer that night.

— ⋮ ᰔ

The third time you crossed paths with spiderman, it was you who sought him out. Well, sought is a strong word, you’d prefer to say that you gravitated towards him naturally. That wasn’t completely a lie, there truly was some sort of magnetic pull to him drawing you near, but your approach was completely by choice. But that wasn’t a conversation you were ready for, many layers of psychological complexities that you weren’t prepared to peel back, so you instead focused on the blurry red feet dangling from the rooftop and how you’d get up there to join them.

After a number of laps around the building that you’d need two hands to count, you hit the jackpot. Sitting humbly within the shadows of the dark, grey alley was a ladder. It was rickety and rusted and you feared it would be the last thing you ever saw—but it was a chance. Everyone took chances, didn’t they? Everything was a chance, in its own way. Love, hate, that answer scribbled into the last page of your exam that you’re not quite sure about. Spiderman took a chance every time he rounded a new building with those webs of his, took an even greater one with every fight and interaction with the public. He took a chance when he came to see you on that sullen night, and you still didn’t know why, but you knew you’d make it your mission to at least somewhat return the favour.

The metal was piercingly cold as your fingers wrapped around it, eliciting a wince from you, but only prompting you to hold on tighter. The sound of your boots clanking against the steps, the small grunt that left your lips as you threw yourself onto the roof—so many sounds barely heard beneath the never ending roar of the city. You heard sirens in the distance, and you wondered why spiderman was sitting in front of you instead of trailing near them.

His eyes met yours (sort of), and Yuji felt something warm flow through his veins. He felt his heart beat just a little quicker, thumping in time with your approaching footsteps. Suddenly the sirens didn’t seem so loud, the curse of his heightened senses not feeling so overwhelming as your face came into the light cast from below.

“Hey, y/n.” He spoke gently, like the words were something delicate, and they’d shatter if said too harshly.

He watched the way your eyes widened just slightly, brows twitching upwards in mild surprise. “You know my name?”

With a slightly wonky smile that you couldn’t see, he nodded. “Small world.”

“Isn’t it?”

Your words were meant to be a light response, but they only made the weight in his chest feel all the more dense. He turned back ahead, the cartoonish white eyes of his mask reflecting an infinite, erratic pattern of streetlights. His shoulders hung a little lower than usual, something you didn’t fail to catch. You sat beside him, legs hanging over the side of the building. The structure was sturdy and solid beneath your thighs, far more than both the barely-there balance of the ladder and his trembling breaths.

“It’s not, though,” he said softly, so quiet that it was almost whisked away by the winds of the evening. “The world is big. Too big.”

You tilted your head, hands pressing into the concrete to support your weight, but itching to reach out to him. You couldn’t give a reason why if asked, nothing other than the unspoken tranquility between you, like you knew much more than you spoke aloud. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“It’s too big. There’s too many people, so many that I can’t… I can’t save everyone. There’s always casualty in the wake of disaster, because the amount of people barely goes down each time. But- but they’re all people, they all deserve to be saved, but… they can’t.”

His words hung in the air, and invisible force between you that pushed down on his shoulders and deepened the furrow in his brows.

“You’re right,” you said. His head turned more quickly than it should’ve—he wasn’t expecting that response from you. Maybe you’d have given Yuji a different answer than you would spiderman. “Not everybody can be saved, but you still save people. A lot of them. Imagine if you never showed up, how many more people would die? A lot. Maybe you can’t save everyone, but you still save people, and that is what makes you good.”

It was as if your words were a sirens song, soothing him to silence and easing his thumping heart. For the first time ever, Yuji wasn’t exactly sure what to say. “Yeah,” he breathed after a moment, voice choked. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He looked up at you for a beat longer, taking in the way the ridges of your face were cast over by shadows, the way your hair fluttered and danced with every gust of wind. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. ���That friend you mentioned before… he’s lucky to have you.”

You shook your head gently. “If you met him, you’d think otherwise,” you said, oblivious to the fact that though spiderman hadn’t technically met Yuji Itadori, he knew him very well. “He’s great. Much better than me.” The corners of your lips quirked up fondly, something he could only describe as love being the force that pushed your smile wider. “He’s great,” you said, more breathily this time.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The next hour or so was spent sharing mindless conversation, reminiscing over teenagehood in a way that made spiderman feel so close, but so far. He couldn’t rid himself of that odd feeling beneath his ribcage, the one that felt like his heart was trying to escape, wailing your name and clawing at him from the inside out. Luckily, the spider-suit did enough to keep it contained.

— ⋮ ᰔ

The atmosphere was tumultuous, the sound of the concrete around them crumbling accompanied by an occasional hiss of web shooting from Yuji’s suit. He moved with a choppy sort of grace, bouncing across alleys and buildings alike.

“I’m sure you could do better than that,” he teased, faux cockiness thick in his tone. A tense, tightly strung determination bled through his tone, too intense to be concealed by thickly coated boyish charm. He lingered on the wall of one building just for the sake of mocking his foe, head tilted to the side almost as if he was genuinely interested.

He quickly flung himself away, just barely missing the swinging, mechanical arm aimed at him.

“Ah ah, keep up!” he quipped, though his voice rose with a small yelp as he finished his sentence. It was clear his opponent only got further angered with every tease, wails of rage growing louder with every swing. Spiderman smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hah… guess I shouldn’t get too cocky…”

His opponent was some big guy, clad in countless layers of precocious technology that reflected the suns light like a mirror. What he assumed was his chest beneath all that metal was heaving, pants leaving his mouth. Suppose tech can’t compete with physical stamina, at least not in this scenario.

“You’ll regret this, spiderman!” he roared, voice scratchy, like he hadn’t used it in ages. “Surrender now, or I’ll have to do something I don’t want to. Don’t– don’t make it difficult.” His words got darker with every proceeding syllable, almost enough to make Yuji nervous. He was used to these threats, and they were empty more often than not.

“Yeahhh…” he drawled, unconvinced. But there was something in him that twisted his gut—not his spider-sense, but something… different. Something in his heart told him to worry.

Shaking his head, he made another advance in the direction of the enemy. He hadn’t bothered to remember his name, he’d never been a problem until now.

Swerving his hit, the big man continued. “I’ve been studying you, spiderman-“ he cut himself off with a groan, his incessant speech resulting in an impact meeting his side.

He grinned, malicious and knowing. As if he knew this was a game of cat and mouse, and he had him trapped like a rat. Something about it made Yuji hesitate, made that unfamiliar feeling in his heart throb. Yuji opened his mouth to retort, to at least attempt some sort of return that suited his sarcastic, spiderman fashion, but he was cut off.

“Or rather, I’ve been studying Yuji Itadori.”

He felt himself go immobile, felt his body freeze like an icicle in the midst of winter. His blood felt equally as cold, as if one move would make him shatter. People studied spiderman all of the time. There were news articles and personal reports and attempts at interviews—everyone knew everything about spiderman, except for his identity. At least, they did.

In that split second, Yuji had a terrible epiphany. With Yuji Itadori came Y/n L/n, always. A plethora of your shared moments flashed through his mind. Walking you to class, late night trips to the convenience store, all of the places around you that there’d been someone lurking. Someone just waiting for the right moment, gauging his behaviour and every aspect of his life, no doubt including the way he looked at you. Yuji might’ve seemed dense, but he was perfectly aware of how clear his love for you was. He loved everything, he loved the way the sun casted over the city and the way people lit up when he smiled at them on the street. He loved you most.

The figure looming over him smiled sickly, Yuji’s reaction telling him all he needed to know. As he began circling Yuji like a predator ready to pounce, he couldn’t stop him. All he could do was feel the pounding of his heart in his chest and wondering if yours was still able to do the same.

“So I was thinking…” the man began, trailing off for the sake of suspense no doubt. “What’s a better power to have over someone than love?”

The sinister words swirled in his ears like an echo. His mouth felt dry, the rest of the world fading to TV static as he tried to glance around for any sign of you, but his gaze was far too frantic to make out the shape of the person in front of him let alone you.

With a devilish snigger, you were revealed. Simply based off of the widened state of your eyes and the way you writhed in the rope you were restricted by, it was fairly clear this was news to you. Had your mouth not been taped, he was sure you’d have plenty to say. As his eyes locked with yours, the world slowed to a halt around you. Your gazes spoke louder than any words, louder than any scream into the dead of night. It spoke of love and fear all the same.

“Stop,” was all he could croak out. “Stop!” he shouted, louder this time as his gaze turned.

“Mm.. so I was correct, then?” said the near cyborg beast beside you.

Yuji’s gaze flickered to you, just for a split second. He contemplated lying, but he just… couldn’t. The words felt bitter and out of place on his tongue, even before they were spoken. So he chose bravery, in every sense of the word, and kept with his offence.

“Maybe, that’s none of your business,” he grunted, words emphasized with a hit to the man’s gnarly face. Yuji had a new sense of determination, the animalistic instinct to protect you. He’d already lost so many, lost his parents and his brother and the sense of humanity he grasped on to like the thread he hung by. He wouldn’t lose you.

All you could do was watch. You could only sit there like the helpless bystander you loathed to be, staring in horror as who might’ve been the love of your life was pummelled into the ground. It was like a twisted pattern of pain and the red of his blood darkening his suit. With every hit he landed he received tenfold, but somehow he always got back up. That was Yuji for you.

As the fight continued, you couldn’t help but begin to notice the obvious similarities between the vigilante and your own best friend. You felt utterly idiotic. Why else would he care so much, who else would you have shared those conversations with? Why else would Yuji look at you just a little different every time you met with spiderman? It all made sense. All of the “I’m sure your best friend is lucky to have you”’s and the explanations to Yuji’s actions that seemed just a bit too personal. Now you knew why, and you couldn’t even respond to the information, imprisoned by the tape over your mouth and the weight of your obliviousness as the sound of fist against face rang through the streets.

A weak, muffled cry fell from your lips as he was knocked to the ground.

Everything was going in slow motion. The robotic arm raised, hovering over Yuji like a sledgehammer just waiting to pound down. But then there was a metallic whine, and a halt. Panic washed over the man’s face as he froze—well, the metal parts of him froze, and those were the only parts that amounted to much.

He sputter and panicked, watching as the countless officers surrounding the area became aware of his suspended movement. It was over, just like that? He seemed just as surprised as you were, and as your eyes met, you were shocked to feel anything in common with him.

When you were freed of the twine that had been keeping you in place, you wasted no time in rushing to Yuji. The red and blue of the lights surrounding you blanketed him, making him appear as nothing but a puddle in the street. He looked completely melted—limp, and for a moment you thought he might not live to hear what you had to say.

You pulled his mask up over his face, disregarding the people around you and their wandering eyes. His face was battered and bruised, but undeniably still his, still alive. You felt your shoulders deflate as his throat bobbed, the small, otherwise unimportant motion doing numbers to ease your nerves. He was still here. You could still learn to love spiderman as you did Yuji, you’d still get the chance to feel their hearts beat as one.

His eyes fluttered open, vision bleary from the flashing lights and his lack of consciousness. “Y/n?” he muttered, voice nearly inaudible. It was the first thought in his mind when he woke, even before the fuzzy outline of your face came into view. His eyes flickered brighter when they saw you. He knew that face anywhere. “Y/n,” he breathed, softer this time.

“Yuji-“

“I’m sorry for not telling you,” he mumbled quickly. His hands reached for yours, the shaky, bruised skin wrapping itself in yours. It stung, but the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his was enough to soothe the ache. He was convinced that if you were to kiss every injured part of him, his bones would straighten themselves out for the sole purpose of holding you, because broken arms can not cradle. Snapped fingers cannot run through your hair, so if he were broken, he would repair himself as long as it meant loving you. No amount of bloodshed would keep him away, he would return to you in the winds if he had to.

You chuckled lightly despite the distress of the moment. “For not telling me what? That you’re spiderman or that you’re in love with me?”

He grinned tiredly, canines peeking out brightly, white against the pink of his lips. “Both.”

— ⋮ ᰔ

The sound of knuckles against your window was dull and hollow, but not unexpected. It did little to startle you, barely bothering to look up from your textbook as you hunched over your desk.

“It’s open!” you called over your shoulder, followed by the creak of the glass sliding open. The sound of Yuji’s feet meeting the ground pulled you from your school immersed daze, office chair swivelling around to face him.

“You know, leaving your window open at night is dangerous,” he said, half joking. His mask was already pulled from his face, messy pink hair matted and messy on his head. He was making quick work to pull off the rest of his suit as he spoke, hopping around on one foot as he tried to pry it from his skin.

You responded with an underlaugh, “I’m on the fourth floor. Nobody except spiderman is sliding open my window at eleven at night on a Tuesday.”

“Well-“ he cut himself off by knocking into your bedframe. He glanced back to you, cheeks warming in the slightest as he tried to balance himself and remain authoritative. “Well, they might!” he exclaimed. His eyes narrowed, but you didn’t find any sense of irritation in them. Within his shining brown irises was concern, the lingering anxiety that came with the events not long before. Yuji had been on edge ever since, constantly glancing around corners and panicking when you were out of sight for even a moment. In the corners of his vision lingered the sight of you helpless, burned into his mind like a tattoo he never wanted.

He tossed the red article somewhere on your floor, disregarding it entirely. He stood above you, arms crossed and trying to look annoyed, but resulting in a different, much cuter pout. He was many things that he wouldn’t admit. Tired—very much so—from spending his day trying restlessly to save lives, scared, and craving the tenderness in your touch that he never received with the mask over his face. When you locked gazes, holding it felt particularly hard for him tonight, because he knew you could see right through him. He felt bare, and not just because you were looking at his real face.

You sighed softly, standing up from the chair. You guess your studying could wait another night, because you knew Yuji couldn’t. Your chest throbbed with the thought of the danger he came face to face with constantly, the responsibility he carried on his back through every waking moment. The weight was heavy, and it was exhausting.

Placing a chaste, fleeting kiss on his cheek, you tugged him over to the bed. His hand was soft in yours, a contrast to the callouses and scrapes adorning the skin there.

“Come lie down,” you mumbled.

He glanced between you and the desk you previously occupied, brows knitting together. “Weren’t you busy?”

“I’m not anymore. Just come rest with me, please.” You shook your head, earnestly reflecting in your eyes.

He hesitated, opening his mouth to speak. “You don’t have to…” he began, but he stopped himself. He really, really did want to rest. He wanted to listen to your heart beat against your chest and have your breath fan over his skin, he wanted to curl into your embrace and be reminded that in this cruel world was a place of love. He knew that deep down, his heart resided with you, and he never felt it truly thump until he was in your arms. “…okay.”

So he crawled into bed with you, tired and almost clingy in his actions. His body slotted against yours like the missing piece of a puzzle, his arms slithering around your waist and face nuzzling into the crook of your neck like it was always meant to be there. He let his ear press against your shirt and hear the life beneath your skin, letting out a breath and physically melting into your arms. He looked so much more gentle like this. He wasn’t the sarcastic or silly figure the world knew spiderman to be, he was just a boy that wanted to help. He was just a kid like you who needed to know that there were things left to cherish.

Some would say you had two lovers. One a courageous figure in the night, the other a warm hearted, pink haired student barely making it into college. But you knew that spiderman was nothing but the parts of Yuji that had always lived within, and the bits that defined him most.

That night you traced every line and freckle on his face, committing it to memory because now there was no suit between you. You admired him as he slept, relishing in the tranquility of it all. It was just you and Yuji, flesh and love and transparency all in one.

From then onwards, Yuji fought his battles with just a bit more hope, because he knew you’d be waiting for him by the window when he won.

I MISSED writing for Yuji ugghhhhhhhhhh. If I wrote a part 2 of a strangers heart would yall fw that or nah (wouldn’t be for a while tho). I cannot write action at all im so sorry 😭 also cba to give big scary villain a name so it got repetitive

Jjk/gen taglist — @sh0ot1ngst4r @anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @lizbix @bubybubsters @azinniyaa @kashee-h @fiannee

— I did not tag those who could not be tagged. If you were on the general taglist and don’t see yourself, it’s because your tag settings stopped me from doing so.

[cupidssorbet]

"Over the desk."

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Boss!Miguel O'Hara x Assistant reader.

Characters included: Miguel O'Hara.

Summary: Your boss has begun to notice the way you stare and the certain things you do when he's around and he's decided to help you out a bit.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Note: This is inspired by Badjur's assistant audio! :) Also I apologize for this taking FAR LONGER than I meant it too!

Content/Includes: JOI(Jerk off instructions), Jerking off over the phone, Mutual Masturbation, Guided Masturbation, Exhibitionism, Tit worship, Overall body worship,

Enjoy! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ ✧ and a big thank you for sticking around while I was away!! I plan to write some gravity falls stuff soon to do with everyone’s favorite grunkles since I’ve recently played the dating sim AND have also recently rewatched arcane as well as the S2 eps (again) and plan to write for that too!

You’d been working for Miguel O’Hara for almost 4 years now, in all those 4 years you’d never been more affected and bothered by a person quite like the way your own BOSS got to you. You could never put your finger on it though, Miguel usually kept to himself and often didn't try to smile or go out of his way like others might have but there was something about him...was it his eyes? his hair? his face? his voice? You just couldn't name it and it was getting to you.

Time when he'd lean over your shoulder, his chest against your back while he looks over the schedule you've prepared, it had your heart beating, your thighs rubbing together just slightly on instinct and your mind running. You prayed every time in hopes that your cheeks weren't cherry red with the way you thought you were burning up inside and out.

However it all came stock piling one day when you noticed he was acting a bit off, towards the middle of the day, then the sound of shoes clicking against the floor until he comes around.

"Call off my meetings for today alright? Just tell'em I've got business to take care of." Miguel states as he flicks through the pages in his hands.

Your surprised by it, caught of guard really, but you agree, "Yes of course I can do that." You nodded turning in your chair, "Thank you, If any of them give you shit for it just tell them I asked for it directly and they can wait." He nods, "I do not want to be disturbed at all." he insists before heading to his office and shutting the door behind him with a 'Click!'

While your clearing his schedule and putting up a little 'do not disturb' on the office door and shutting it, you hear a noise? like a beep then--

You look and the little red light for the intercom on the phone was blinking, before you could open your mouth to say something, "Where would you be without her O'hara." You hear Miguel exhale slightly as he takes a seat in his chair, you want to speak up but he only continues, "Always so diligent, willing to do anything for you.." He trails off, "And so damn beautiful, that fucking body, the things I would do." Miguel groaned out over the line, your face, your sure by now is a tomato, then the sound of a belt coming undone, "I can finally unwind and let off some of this tension." Then a slight groan and 'Oh fuck..' followed.

The only other noise you could make out that had your face heating up was the sound of his hand pumping his cock slowly.."How long was I going to have to wait in that meeting." His chair creaks as he leans back, "Fucking dammit..images of her bent over this desk..couldn't get rid of them." the sound of his pumping speeds up, butterflies erupt in your stomach and heat pools between your legs. "Too damn perfect, that perfect little skirt riding up, on her perfect little body.." there's a slight pant to Miguel's voice, "My perfect little assistant." The sounds of him pumping his cock pick up even more, your thighs squeeze together instinctively.

"God, your so eager to always fill everyone of my requests," when he goes from 'her' to 'you' as if being direct it makes you jump slight, "Wonder how she'd feel if she knew how hard she got me, if she knew that I knew exactly why she stay's after hours, how she'd feel if I knew why she comes to my office so often.." His words trail off.

Your heart is thumping, "I wonder how she would feel that I know she can hear me over the intercome, Right now." Miguel huffs out, you jump, "Me?" You squeak out slightly, "Yes you, your enjoying this aren't you?" there's a slight teasing lilt to his voice as he asks.

"I didn't know--" "Come on, in all the years you have worked with me, worked for me, when have I ever been that careless?" He asked, your quiet, "No, you know me, I'm careful, calculated." There's a gruff, yet needy undertone. "You've been enjoying listening to me stroke this thick, fat cock huh? Sitting there behind your desk, thighs pressed together, am I wrong?" He asked.

You feel your cheeks grow hotter, your thighs press tighter, he's got you read like a book. "I'm extremely thorough and careful with everything I do and..everyone I do." He practically enunciates the last few words and it sends a slight shiver. 'God' he murmurs, the sound of him fisting his cock growing a bit slow paced as he talks, "I'll be honest, I've been watching the way you act and dress a bit more closer than I ever have-- Fuck," He groans out followed by a few other curses.

"God..If only you could see the precum dripping from this fat tip huh?" Miguel out right teases, enjoying the way he can hear you shifting in your chair, "I'm not displeased with your work, not by a long shot, quite impressed, but..I notice the way your thighs clench together when I lean on the wall beside you or when I place these big hands on your desk, wouldn't you love them holding those thighs open.." He trails off and you can't help but shudder.

He's reveling in this with his heavy breathes and curses as he rubs his cock, "I can see the way your breath picks up when I lean over you, and those wandering eyes..Shit.." He breathes out, "I've noticed the way they seem to travel down when I wear these pants, the way they stare a bit longer..gave me a reason to wear them more often." His pumping picks up, you swallow audibly, "The way you can't help but stare at the imprint of my cock, not even hard and yet you keep an eye on this package hm?" His teasing tone despite him sounding breathless is just so audible.

"But I'm not the only one who's been wearing something often, you've noticed my looks with those short pencil skirts you've been wearing.." Your shifting side to side when he says that, heat pooling, "But tell me, is that skirt still nice and snug around those beautiful thighs or have you hiked it up to make room for these beautiful hands between those thighs?" You couldn’t even think and get the words out. He just chuckled into the other line. “Go on hike the skirt nice and high for me..” Miguel’s voice was low and husky.

You swallow thickly before bringing your skirt hem up and up..”Now move those pretty panties aside.” His voice rings through the receiver, your heart is racing as she move them aside, you practically exhale which earns a chuckle from him. “Getting excited are we? We’re barely even there.” He teases.

“Now, listen carefully hm? Part your soft thighs and pull those panties aside..” he instructed and you followed, “Now rub that sweet little clit of yours.” That was more of an order than an instruction that there wasn’t any hesitation on your end because you went right to it.

The thought, not the *knowledge* that your boss could hear you and was actively guiding you, had you gasping and panting as quietly as you could within in seconds, your fingers working your clit in tight circles, lost in your own little world..meanwhile, Miguel was reveling in this, it had him throbbing and aching hearing all the pretty little noises that were coming from you..

His free hand instinctively working his cock in time, “Listen to yourself…Buen dios…Such pretty sounds they are.” Miguel praised and god it got you so damn good. “Fuck I—-I just..” you gasped, it was making his resolve crack, he wanted to tease and mess with you to the point of where you needed it just as bad as he did.

“Go on, slide those fingers in, come on.” He urged, his voice smooth yet deep, it always sent shivers down your spine. You bit your lip, your hands slowly sliding down further, your middle finger first then your ring finger followed, starting a slow rhythm, in..out..the wet sounds that reached your ears were loud to you because of the way your heart had been filling the quietness with it’s beating in your ears but the noise that replaced it would’ve made you blush if you hadn’t already been.

Then, within a couple minutes, you noticed how quiet Miguel had become and thought maybe he’d been put off and then you really listened, quiet grunts & groans reached your ears through the receiver. The soft ‘schlick’ of him pumping his cock felt so loud even if it really wasn’t.

“I can tell your listening, those pants and moans stopped, tell me do you like what you hear?” He asked with a chuckle , low and breathless. “God of course I do,” you practically whined. Miguel clicked his tongue, “Impatient huh?” He teased you again, “At this point yes I am, and it’s becoming unbearable, my fingers aren’t enough!” You huffed exasperated, then all you heard was quiet.

“Mr. O’Hara?” You asked, “Miguel?” Your tone became curious but also worried before the sound of shoes on the flooring echoed and they were fast steps. Approaching your office fast, the gait, the weight of it, added up into your mind as Miguel. Then the door swung open and your assumption was correct. “Not enough? Well let me assist with that.” Miguel’s words came out gruffer than really intended.

You swallowed thickly softly as you removed your fingers, nodding as he approached you, “Look at you, fucking delicious,” he reached down and took your fingers, bringing them to his lips, before taking them in his mouth, a shudder running down your spine.

Then he pulled them out, licking his lips and leaning in..

“Let me satisfy you today.”

PT 1.

[curlyfriesgalore]

curly can't sing.

as the title says, it's a headcanon i randomly had when playing my mouthwashing sims 4 household (lol), where swansea and curly went karaoke-ing at 'waterside warble' in san myshuno. curly sang horrendously since he just gained the skill. though, it made me think, how funny would it be if curly genuinely couldn't sing for shit?

it's the one thing jimmy has leverage over (he's no better, really), and curly is painfully aware of his tone-deafness, so he never reveals it unless it's for a special occasion... with an extra special someone there to watch him perform (miserably).

that being said, daisuke suggested the crew do something fun to celebrate the completion of their shipment, so why not do some karaoke?

★ a sfw one-shot broken down into bullets with chat-format segments for dialogue. fair warning, there are a few suggestive moments, but the implications aren't overt.

☆ gen tags: set in 2005. gn! reader who is a doctor and a great singer. none of the game's events happen, so they're just a bunch of folks doing regular space deliveries, but jimmy is still an upleasant ass that gets on the reader's nerves. reader and curly are crushing on each other (they're on the brink of knowing it's reciprocal). manfailure curly but he's trying his best... whatever that best is (lmfao, accurate to canon 😭). curly -> grant (name switch at some point in the fic). there's one moment where curly and reader share a glass, so just letting you know in case you're not a fan of that :)

[i'm still on break, but i wanted to write something more concise and improvised in under a day! and i won't lie, i find fics including everyone to be so fun to write. i really love testing out my characterizations of the crew and have them interact in relaxed scenarios. ouh i care for them so much, i wish we knew more of the bonds each had with one another 😓. however, i do want to try writing fics that are set in post-crash, but that can wait for now. art by kafukafukadayo on twt. —iris🌠]

while you bask in the dim hues of red lights, the instrumental of an electropop softens into silence as it tandems with your pants. when you peel your eyes open, everyone's gaping their mouths and raising their brows—even jimmy, ever the unimpressed, is surprisingly taken aback, and you're taken aback by that alone.

daisuke springs from the leather sofa. he bounds towards you, grips both your shoulders, and shakes you senselessly, his hand still somehow gripping his open flip phone.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"doc, that... was... INSANE!" he jostles your body back and forth between his pauses, swaying you with all his might as he nearly forces the microphone to drop out your hand. daisuke swishes his head, finally letting you go, "wh—buh?! how do you—are you imogen heap reincarnated?!"

anya snorts, sounding like a stuffed trumpet. "dai, imogen's alive! she's only 27." swansea follows suit, his deep chuckle rumbling through his belly, crossed arms resting atop. "pfft, that's far from dead."

daisuke rolls his eyes away from the two, "tch, you get what i mean! like, look—!" he speedily dials the buttons on his phone, opening his gallery and brandishing a pixelated clip of you singing along to the mbira melody and string bass beats, the crunchy electronic syncs with your ethereal mezzo-soprano. daisuke snaps the phone shut with his palm, raising his free hand in surrender. "if that's not the lead singer of frou frou, then i don't know who is." he takes the remote, looking through what next to sing.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

amid the nurse, mechanic, and intern belting their lungs out to "hey ya!" curly sits, and you stand before him. his ocean eyes swim in awe as he cranes his neck to face you. you're glowing. your head perfectly aligns right in front of the carmine light; its luminescence filters around your shadowed outline, like you were some angel graced from above with an even more angelic voice to come with. it was sort of comical how the largest man in the room felt so small beneath your presence.

there's a dew of sweat hanging below your bottom lip, and curly can't help but bite his. that is until he slips his teeth back in when you cushion yourself onto the couch, spreading your legs wide with an arm lounging on the headrest behind him. curly huffed a laugh and leaned into the shiny sofa, letting his scalp fall onto your forearm.

even with your tongue tucked inside your parted lips, curly could practically see your papillae beg for freshness. he smiles, momentarily stretching his back away from the couch to grab your drink and hands it to you. a raspy thanks escape your parched throat.

your neck bobs with every gulp, drinking like it's the last you'll ever taste water. curly tries his hardest not to let his gaze linger longer than it should, but the way your head tilts back and your hand grips the glass, he can't help but swallow some of that imaginary water himself.

a contented sigh leaves you. you flick your eyes to him and just about see the last of his adam's apple slurp up nothing. you gesture the drink, asking if he wants it. curly is briefly hesitant until he turns to see his empty cup and shrugs, "sure, why not?"

as curly takes his sip, he notices the beaded sweat shining on your lip more notably than before. his brows raise ever so subtly, ruminating his next moves. when you still fail to realize the wetness glistening at your mouth's rim, he pulls the drink away from himself.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"hey, can i...?"

your eyes widen softly as you watch his thumb inch toward your jaw. you flick your view down, puffing out your lower lip to see a dab of sweat cling onto you for dear life. you look back at him and nod. curly gently takes a hold of your chin, thumbing the sudor away while his remaining fingers brush against your neck. you take in the moment, eyes half-lidded and lips ever so parted. he wasn't glancing at you, but you could tell he wanted to, for his warm breath quiets the longer you study him—noticing the way his tongue peeks out his mouth or how his golden greying hair falls over the wrinkles etched into his temple. "you know," moments before he drops his hand, he finally manages to look you in the eye, your faces merely inches apart. "your performance really gave me chills." you smirked, "is that why you didn't speak up?" your tease brought curly to a laugh, the bass in his voice strong. "i can't help but be mesmerized when that's how you sing, doc."

you hummed a titter, nodding to yourself as you thanked him with a delicate smile. "you can drop the formalities, grant. we're at a karaoke bar, not the tulpar."

whether or not you noticed the hitch in his breath, grant softened upon hearing his first name, oftentimes forgetting that's who he actually is. his head tilts down, blithely sighing before picking himself up to show you his grin, "okay, okay..." he momentarily chuckles, now resting his elbow on the headrest, propping it up, and leaning onto his knuckles next to your arm still lying there. "well, my point still stands. you have an incredibly captivating voice, y/n." "oh, stop it...!" you both become a blushing, giggling mess. your other hand finds its way to rest on your knee, which sits right against grant's. as you speak about your singing history, grant brings his free palm to his thigh, pretending to unintentionally graze his calloused fingers against your nails. he listens intently to how you'd belt out your favorite songs on repeat, albeit the sound of daisuke and anya screaming, "HEEEY YAAA!" and the tidbits of exhaustion lingering in his mind make your words muffle into incoherent jargon.

"but enough about me, i wanna hear you." you catch his eyes snapping away from both his and your legs smushing together, hoping you don't notice the blankness in his brain. "or are you just charming me to stall your big reveal, hm?"

grant's jaw falls, and utterances of filler words filter out his mouth, but before he can respond, daisuke catches wind of their conversation as outkast's song dies down in the background.

"oh, yeah!" daisuke takes a swig of his soda. after a sigh of satisfaction and couple of lip smacks, daisuke leaps from his end of the couch and motions to the two, microphone in hand. "it's your turn to solo, captain!"

"uhh, i don't know if i should..." grant sheepishly waves the mic away, his eyes shifting between everyone's expressions. daisuke is pouting and pleading with puppy eyes. anya just gives him a thumbs-up and a classic comforting smile. swansea is indifferent. jimmy, who's been leaning against the palm tree printed wall for the past four songs, beer in hand, grows an all-too-familiar smirk. then there's you, expectantly looking at him with overlaid eyes he wishes to see in a different setting... that of his bedroom—

"aww, why not, curl? we've done our parts. 's only fair you do yours, too." jimmy's tone was far from welcoming, sounding more like a jab than anything. you narrowed your sights at him, "didn't you only sing in the group ones?" jimmy shrugs. "look," after taking another chug of his can, raising his hands in defeat. "my karaoke quota's been filled. sorry." you simply roll your eyes. before the tension thickens, daisuke interjects, "ah, don't worry, cap. i bet your voice sounds super cool, like superhero cool! you've got that gruffness that swan's got... but y'know... less croaky n' stuff!" "'scuze me?" swansea lifts a single brow, anya stifles a laugh, and daisuke flails his hands in defense, "eh- i mean it as a compliment! you've got a sick voice, swansea." "emphasis on sick..." anya cheekily comments under her breath, and for the first time in forever, swansea's jaw drops. he coughs out a laugh that's been lodged in his throat for god knows how long and shakes his head, pointing his thumb at the giggling woman. "wowww, aren't you, the nurse, supposed to be fixing that?" anya nods to you, "only under doctor's orders." the two have a back and forth, but daisuke still stands in front of grant, intent on lending the mic to the man.

"i—okay..." grant crumbles under the pressure, caving in when you whisper a couple of encouragements. daisuke cheers, anya claps, swansea bobs his head in support, jimmy fakes a whoop, and you—genuinely—hype him up with a holler.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

grant purses his lip as he presses the buttons on the remote while daisuke guides him through the songs on the screen.

jimmy leaves his spot, his boot denting a scuff mark on the wallpaper. your nose flares, watching him carelessly toss the can into the bin as he makes his way to sandwich you between him and swansea, purposefully maximizing the width of how far he can stretch his legs.

you ignore him, opting to watch someone much cuter. grant turns to you, awkwardly smiling as you return a thumbs-up. he focuses back on daisuke, who's now raving over a song he definitely thinks grant should sing.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"you know he's shit, right?" your brows contort into a furrow, still not looking at the man. "the fuck you mean?" you never had much patience for jimmy, of all people, so your courtesies never fail to fall short with him. "you know who i mean—him." jimmy gestures to grant, pointer finger flicking at the blond. "no shit, sherlock. i'm saying, what are you specifically referring to?" "obviously, his voice, sherlock." he drawls the two syllables, the stench of yeast and malt oozing out of his mouth and into your unfortunate nose. "he'll make your ears bleed, trust me." finally, you face him and stare at jimmy's smugness with an incredulous squint. seriously, how the fuck does grant put up with him? you couldn't even stand the guy's presence, let alone his incessant insults on grant himself. "do you do anything but complain?" you sneer. "nope." jimmy curtly replies, mouthing a pop after the 'p' as he claws a hand over the chips bowl, stuffing his face with grease. at this point, you weren't sure if you should stay annoyed or be slightly impressed with his sheer ability to find the worst in everything. "some fucking friend..." you say to yourself, already past the point of defeat. with his mouth still full of food, jimmy responds, "hey, as his friend, i'm actively warning you. i've known this guy long enough to be there for his first choir class." "whatever, we'll see." you huffed, relaxing on the couch, sitting much closer to swansea than the other. "it's not like you've got much credibility, anyway." you think back to moments ago, whenever it was jimmy's turn to sing his parts, his half-assed attempts barely constitutes as a grumble. jimmy snickers, "who says i'm denying that? just 'cause i don't care doesn't mean i'm wrong."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

you have never been more relieved to hear a soft pop interlude, forcing the conversation to a close.

daisuke flops onto the sofa next to anya and flips open his phone, pressing record as the tv flashes the music video to "shape of my heart." you lean behind swansea and lock eyes with daisuke, who abashedly giggles when you mouth, 'you chose this, didn't you?' to which he nods excitedly.

ah, daisuke, ever the avid backstreet boys fanatic.

your eyes fall back to grant. the man fidgets with his microphone, and his shoe frantically taps to the beat, pursing his lips into a tight smile in hopes it will clench down the shivers rising with the guitar strums. you silently cheer him on when he starts humming, following the yellow highlight filling up the white text reading ♪ yeah, yeah ♪, and—

oh!

...oh

oh, god.

jimmy... wasn't wrong... far from it, actually—as much as it pains you to admit.

the very moment grant hits that ♪ baby ♪, it's all downhill from here. it's as if his pitch took a trip to six flags. his questionably paced breaths mimic a ride with an unnecessary amount of loop-the-loops, and his tone flip-flops between a coarse rasp and an oddly airy twang, like a reverse bungee slingshotting into the air.

grant's eyes squeeze shut, facing away from the crew. either he was incredibly invested or excruciatingly embarrassed, and with how he was really getting into that chorus, nobody could tell. he only ever peeks to look at you, though, clearly awaiting your approval, to whom you always beam, your face mixed in pity and affection.

as much as he sounded like a crow was clawing its way out of his esophagus, you couldn't help but find his attempts to be really wholesome. maybe it's your pre-existing bias, and maybe it's because this feels like he's serenading every line at you, but it's hard not to fall for this vocal failure of a man—even though everyone else's expressions say otherwise.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"told you so," jimmy taunts in your ear, sickeningly chuckling at grant without hesitation. "woo! curly, you go, dude!" he cheers, voice dipped in mockery. all you do is click your tongue and face the others, choosing to listen in on anya and swansea. "you sure i'm the one that's 'sick'?" swansea jokes, albeit laced with genuine disgust. he leans to you, whispering the same revulsion, "you both need to rethink your careers."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

anya simply grimaces, trying her hardest to make it look like a grin, but her knit brows and frown give way.

daisuke's eyes say everything. they're wide, and his pupils constrict like he's a cartoon. his hand hesitantly grips onto his flip phone, unsure if he should keep the camera going. as his leg rapidly bounces and his teeth bite down on his paint-chipped nails, his gaze slowly turns away from grant's caterwauling and towards the rest of the crew.

moreover, you're just as guilty. although you're not irked by this newfound fact, a wince washes over you the moment you are out of grant's sights.

suddenly, after the first chorus, the song reveals a blue highlight painting the white text. grant falters, his voice shrinking when he sees the two primary colors play different lyrics simultaneously. everyone takes notice, their faces easing from cringe to confusion. then it clicks.

this was a duet.

daisuke palms his face with a slap—that's his bad. you skim the room, and everyone's exchanging glances, implicitly questioning who'll aid their poor captain.

without hesitation, you jump to the rescue. snatching a mic from the coffee table and quickly singing your parts, striding your way towards grant, who immediately picks up where he's left off, still shrill as ever.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

♪ i'M hEre WIDTH myYy...! confEh shion ♪, in a sheer attempt at confidence, grant belts his lyrics. his dimples dig into his smile, sending you the much-needed energy to sing your lines. ♪ got nothing to hide no more ♪. you sway your head in accordance with the melody, ball up your fist, and let your fingers spread far and wide, wiping the air as you and grant's steps magnetize toward each other. ♪ i don't kNOw whe...rE to st-art ♪; warbling his words, grant's gaze softens when you're within arms reach. he lowers his neck, brings the mic close to his lips, and grazes your forearm, wishing he could feel the flush skin of your waist and reel you in. ♪ but to show you... ♪, as both lyrics meld into one, you take his hand into yours. ♪...the shA-pe of mY hEart ♪

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

daisuke bursts into song, singing the first line of the last verse, startling everyone in the process. anya joins in, now standing with daisuke as both pull swansea to his feet. the mechanic begrudgingly croons along to his intern's baritone and his nurse's soprano.

daisuke beckons for jimmy to come with him, but in classic jimmy zare fashion, he remains stagnant. the younger man frowns. though, he quickly reminds himself that there are only five members in BSB, anyway. so daisuke hands jimmy his phone instead, telling the co-pilot to make sure that everyone's in frame.

they've turned this into a concert for a one-man audience, who's hating every second of it.

save for jimmy, currently grousing under his breath, the crew wraps their arms around each other's shoulders and chants their hearts out to the R&B melody.

as the track nears its final moments, you and grant rest your hands on each other's waists, pulling your bodies close as your head leans on his pec. neither of you realizes that you've left the other three, who are all too busy rocking side to side to notice the two of you in a side embrace, minds too carried away to feel jimmy's prickly leer.

[oh my god, i genuinely didn't even intend for this ending, but here we are 🥹! i hope you guys liked this, and if anyone has comments on how i wrote everyone's dialogue and mannerisms, like what worked, or if you have suggestions for any additions, please let me know! i still need to learn more about writing anya, since in canon, it's hard to get a read of her real personality through jimmy's lens. still, so far, i like to think she enjoys teasing people she's comfortable with. as for swansea, i'm trying to lean into his meanness more, but i'm saving most of that for a daisuke fic centered on swansea's pov, so we'll see what i do when i get there! —iris🌠]

[starcurtain]

My favorite brand of Ratiorine is definitely:

"They both experienced immediate attraction upon seeing the other and are (silently) interested in the possibility of pursuing a relationship, regardless of their differences and the difficulties of their situations."

But also:

"Despite being two of the most hyper-competent people in the universe, they are absolutely idiot4idiot when it comes to romance or discussing their feelings, and they are about to make their complete inability to express themselves and court like normal people into everybody's problem."

[octoooo]

Sabito & Giyuu but Wizard & Dragon. Do u see my vision?

Sabito found newly hatched noodol dragon giyuu as a kid & begged sakonji to keep him. Sakonji was uncertain because there’s no telling (1) what kind of dragon Giyuu will be or (2) how Big he’ll grow up to be (could they keep him in the bathtub ?? The backyard ??) Ultimately, he gives in and lets Giyuu stay (he also gets every book about raising/living with dragons he can find)

While he’s still small, Giyuu likes to drape himself over Sabito’s neck or arm. Occasionally had hidden in his pocket.

(He gets mistaken as a worm many times until he starts to grow)

Y’know how Clifford (Big Red Dog) is too big to fit in the house so he’s just In the yard? That’s Giyuu as an adult. Sabito wakes up & opens his window so Giyuu can greet him every morning <3

(Sabito’s window is about the size of Giyuu’s eye. For size reference)

17 yr old Sabito gets suspended from Wizard School for fighting Sanemi (who also gets suspended)

They had been butting heads for a while and they finally decide to settle it in a fight. In a bathroom. At school. It was mostly a physical fight, a bruise here, a bite mark there but then Sanemi casts a weak lighting spell* that grazed Sabito’s cheek as he tried to dodge. The bolt however hits the ceiling of the room & causes a power outage. A few more punches are thrown before a *fwoosh* is heard & the ceiling corner lights up orange.

*(they hadn’t explicitly stated ‘no magic allowed’ during the fight, and they were already fighting dirty (if the bite mark on Sanemi’s arm is anything to go by) but indoors? you’re gonna fire a lightning bolt at another person who is Not prepared for it indoors? Crazy)

That becomes a permanent mark on their record (Yea causing a power outage & fire in the bathroom isn’t the best look on someone’s record)

They both end up with a restraining order, expelled from the school and get fined for damage to school property.

Shizu & Urokodaki talked while Sabito & Sanemi were healing, they agreed to split the cost of the damages (Sanemi caused it yea but Sabito is also responsible by association (maybe if they weren’t fighting this fire wouldn’t have started))

Urokodaki takes Sabito’s training into his own hands after That,,

[em-b-sides]

I think about that tiktok trend where you like paint your partners eye color on your nails or make a bracelet or something with the color a lot actually

[gxlden-angels]

On today's episode of Holy Shit My Childhood Was Not Normal:

Kurtis Conner being thrown off by the girls'/boys' bibles with the random "Dream Girl" and "Grossology" passages and shit like that in them

[unproduciblesmackdown]

(genderly) chill as hell if i was only ever glimpsed / detected like this

[tielforest]

i may have been rewatching supernatural, something i havent done since 2012 i think (i stopped watching after s5) and i just forgot how fun it was and how batshit crazy the brothers are for each other bless

[mildmayfoxe]

ok. went to the fabric store today and successfully hemmed my depop velvet pants and successfully sewed the tiger to the jacket and successfully bought fabric glue because i need to admit that i have to take some shortcuts in order to make my life easier. i simply cannot hand sew the rest of my appliqués. everyone was very suitably impressed with my Vision™ and had many compliments 👼🏼 i had to hem the pants twice because the first time i didn’t cut off enough fabric so now i’m basically an expert 💅🏼 i also got to use a coverstitch machine for the first time and by god those things are amazing. also i got a burrito from my favorite taqueria bc i was in my old neighborhood and now i’m going to EAT IT!!

[todayisafridaynight]

One of my fave jackets is this green jacket with a fur hood im wearin rn because 1.) its green 2.) my dad gave it to me 3.) it reminds me of saejima. Who also reminds me of my dad

[gorbo-longstocking]

pants are for savages didnt you know?

[videostak]

am sure ill feel better once i just push through and really start getting up early and making breakfast every morning and dressing every day and shaving earlier than i do currently but rn i just like have 0 control over my life its so awful like literally they just decide whenever theyre all going somewhere and leave me w/ all the pets w/o even letting me kno in advance its so shitty and they completely take it for granted ughhh like i just get treated liek sshit everywhere i go and its really well starting to get on my nerves lol. like even the people who are quote unquote nice to me still essentially treat me like a tamagotchi or smthn checking up on me every like 4 months or something just to make sure im still alive and not even actually like beign there as a friend. so fuck thaaaaaat.

[jinxessticktogether]

..just randomly remembered the time 5 years ago i told my at-the-time girlfriend that i thought i might have bpd and she screamed at me for self diagnosing (i literally just said "i think i want to talk to a professional cuz i might have it") and told me there was no way i could have it because i would have scars to prove it