#sorry. it freaks me out and i can’t look away all at the same time

[aturnoftheearth]

forcing myself to stop watching snapchats of those stupid organizing tiktoks that are so unnecessary oughhhhhhhhhhg

[tonycries]

Government Hooker - T.F.

Synopsis. With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didn’t think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, popstar! reader, bodyguard! Toji, unprotected, brat-taming, spanking, choking, rough oral (male + female receiving), slight enemies-to-lovers, jealousy (Toji’s side), daddy kink, semi-public sex, manager! Nanami, creampie, power dynamics, dirty talk, stalking threats, TW. knife (brief), swearing.

Word count. 10.8k

A/N.  WHEWWWWWWWWW need some buff bodyguard Toji in my life. Slightly inspired by The Bodyguard. Set in the Brooklyn Babyverse.

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

Pop Princess’ World Tour in Jeopardy After Stalking Threats

Dark Times for Pop Royalty: Will She Return for This Year’s Grammy Performance?

Is It Over For The International Sensation?

“Nanami, for the millionth time, do I look like I need a babysitter?” you squint at the headlines flashing across your phone screen, resisting the urge to fling it at the nearest wall. 

Sitting right in the middle of your whirlwind dressing room, you breathe in the heady air, thick with hairspray and anticipation for the upcoming shoot. Normally, you’d preen at the stylists swarming around you - but right now, their fussing only makes it all the more difficult to drive your manager dangerously close to an aneurysm.

As expected, Nanami drones out the same rehearsed response you’ve memorized word-for-word at this point. “My apologies, but with the severity of these threats, we can’t-”

“Afford to take any chances, I know I know.” Still, heart sinking, you scoff, “I understand, but 24/7 surveillance is insane. Can’t I have any-”

Bang!

To your chagrin - and perhaps Nanami’s mercy - the door flies open with a force that rattles its hinges. 

As the bustling activity in the dressing room freezes, your eyes immediately snap to the hulking figure at the door. Expression steely and vigilant, he strides in with a presence that demands attention. You can’t help but raise a brow at his audacity - and the unreal rippling of his muscles beneath that skin-tight t-shirt. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but that blue-haired freak Mojito at the front desk told me to come here.” a low rumble sweeps the room. 

Ah, this must be the one. Gesturing your stylists away, you square your shoulders - ready for a fight. “And who might you be”

“Name’s Fushiguro Toji, your new ‘babysitter’, princess.” he declares, voice gruff and unwavering over Nanami’s tired hum of “Bodyguard, he means bodyguard”. 

You narrow your eyes, studying the pure disinterest on his face. Great, just what you needed - you didn’t claw your way to the top to be scared and controlled by some loser stalker. Tilting your head defiantly, “Hmm, you don’t look like much of a bodyguard.”

Toji’s lips twitch into a sardonic smirk, gaze meeting yours with a hint of challenge, “Mhm, and you don’t act like much of a princess.”

You could almost hear the record screech to a halt. Everyone holding their breath, eyes locked on you as an agonizing beat of silence passes, half the room on the verge of fainting.

One. Two.

A startled laugh bursts from your lips. Shattering the tension in that dressing room as swiftly as the mirror in your stylist’s hand would’ve had you remained quiet a second longer. 

The audacity of this man. No one’s ever spoken to you like that before. 

Toji’s grin widens at your unexpected reaction, that sinful little scar on his lips stretching in amusement. Some small, strange part of him satisfied at passing your invisible test.

“Well, look at that, didn’t expect ya to have a sense of humor.” he comments, tone positively dripping with sarcasm, as if toying with you.

Plastering on that painfully saccharine sweet smile usually saved for nosy interviewers, you mockingly bat your lashes. “And I didn’t expect to have a babysitter breathing down my neck.” 

“Oh don’t expect me to babysit, princess. I don’t get paid nearly enough for that. According to that hardass manager of yours, my job is to keep you safe. Whether you like it or not.” 

With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turn back to your make-up artist, clearly done with this tedious conversation. “We’ll see how long that lasts. I have a knack for losing unwanted company.”

And if there’s one thing you’ve come to learn with Toji Fushiguro, it’s that you do not have a knack for losing unwanted company. Especially not him. 

Wherever you went, Toji was there first - it didn’t matter how fast you escaped, or how many hats and masks you put on. He was everywhere.

He was there when you slipped away to swap sunglasses with a passing stranger, convinced you’d outsmarted your looming bodyguard. But your triumphant laugh caught in your throat as you heard that familiar chuckle behind you - whirling around to find him sporting your ill-fitting shades with an amused glint in his eyes.

He was there during a chaotic fashion show, where you blended seamlessly amongst the flurry backstage, hoping to escape Toji’s watchful gaze. Heart pounding, making it all the way to the elevator. You’d barely let out a breath of relief before large hands intercept the closing doors. Towering figure stepping inside with a knowing grin, “Going somewhere, princess?”

Hell, he was even there when you hatched a plan to ditch him on the tarmac of the bustling airport. Making a dash for your private plane, and settling into your plush seat with smug satisfaction. Ah, at least you’ll have a few hours of peace until Tokyo without-

“Damn, first class is nice. Must be nice to be pretty and rich.” a low whistle causes you to groan inwardly (and outwardly).

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” you mutter under your breath, at the man seated right beside you. At this point, you half expected him to be keeping guard outside as you shower.

Toji was always there. Steadfast as ever, firm chest always blocking whatever escape plan you’ve concocted. In all your years in the spotlight, you’ve never felt so frustrated. The dawning realization that there was no escape matching your slowly slipping sanity as you kick off the first stop of your world tour - Tokyo.

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

It’s in Tokyo that everything changes. 

Electricity crackling in the air, deafening roars of your name in your ears - you stand center stage. This was where you belonged - where you felt alive. 

Pouring your soul into your words, stage lights dance across your skin, as frantic as the adrenaline in your veins. The crowd before you was a living, breathing entity, swept away with energy and excitement.

The music swells to a crescendo as your voice carries across the arena, limelight following you spellbound.

In the intoxicating performance, you don’t notice a pair of widened green eyes doing the same, goosebumps rising along his skin. Gaze fixed on you with an intensity that rivaled the spotlight itself. A silent reverie. 

As the final notes of your song echoed through the arena you felt a rush of euphoria wash over you. Lights dimming, you draw a long breath, savoring the crackling energy onstage. A high that left you craving for more.

With a grateful smile, you bow deeply, screams and applause reverberating in your ears like thunder. 

The cheers continue to ring in your ears as you’re whisked away, backstage buzzing with excitement and anticipation over the special guests for the VIP event. Enveloped by your team, you navigate through the labyrinthine corridors of the arena.  

You catch Toji’s eye from where he flanked your right, your brow raising ever-so-slightly as if silently asking, “C’mon, didn’t I kill it out there?” 

But before you can decipher the fleeting expression on his face, the moment is shattered by a sudden commotion up front. 

“Hey, over here! Is it true there's a stalker after you? Is it to boost album sales?”

“Can you confirm the rumors that you're cozying up with Satoru from Tokyo Special Grades? The fans want answers!”

“Hey! How do you respond to critics who call you a has-been? Come on, speak up!”

You’re barely given a second to breathe before the paparazzi descend upon you like vultures. Bodies jostling urgently as rapidfire questions and incessant flashes make you see stars behind your eyes. 

Trying to block out the swarm of questions, you close your eyes amidst the dizzying chaos, trying to find some semblance of stability.

And stability finds its way in the strong arm that wraps protectively around you, pressing you close against a sculpted chest.

Toji.

“Don’ worry, princess, I’ll get you outta here.” hot breath brushing against your ear, sending shivers creeping down your spine. 

Pulled impossible close to his muscled frame, his steady heartbeat grounds you - while yours stutters as Toji’s voice cuts through the clamor like a knife. “Back off, vultures. Show some respect or I’ll make sure ya regret it.” 

Steely gaze almost provoking - as if anyone would dare challenge the imposing, almost frightening presence in the middle of the room. The paparazzi, momentarily stunned, falter in their pursuit, allowing Toji to carve a path through the chaos.

Hands still tight around you, as you’re hastily escorted away from the chaos, you steal a glance at Toji’s profile, illuminated by the harsh flashes of the cameras. Finding some intrusive little part of you that thrills at the raw intensity, cheeks flaring in response.

He’s so warm. 

You could almost cry as those gaudy VIP doors swing open, swiftly ushering you to safety. They slam shut, sealing off the cacophony outside. In the soft lounge music wafting through the air, you’re left with the nagging awareness of Toji’s body heated against yours.

Embarrassment floods through you like a tidal wave as you register the way you’re still clinging on to him. Abruptly pushing away, you take a larger step back than was probably appropriate. 

In the dimly lit room, you couldn’t make out exactly what was twinkling in Toji’s eyes as they flicker to you. But what you could see was that amused grin curling his lips as you uncharacteristically stumble over your words, “Thank you- Uh, for the way I-”

“Princess~!” Words choke in your throat as a flash of white and blue barrels into you, sending you reeling backward. Playful laughter ringing through the air. 

“S-Satoru?” you stammer, caught off guard. Before you’ve fully recovered, he’s pulling you into a bruising hug, nearly knocking you off your feet. 

“Hey there, gorgeous,” Satoru purrs, voice velvety as he leans in. “You absolutely killed it out there tonight.”

“Oh my gosh, Satoru! I haven’t seen you in forever.” A laugh escapes your lips, though the lingering warmth from Toji’s proximity still prickles at the edges of your consciousness. “What are you even doing here?”

Satoru chuckles, gaze lingering on you, “Couldn’t miss the biggest concert in Tokyo since ours, duh.” His energy was infectious, and you find yourself smiling along. “Thank you Satoru.” 

As Satoru continues to chatter animatedly about the concert, you distinctly realize that Toji has slipped into the background. Where was he? You find your eyes darting around the room in search of his familiar presence, slowly noticing the lack of Satoru’s bandmates in the process.

Your curiosity piqued, you couldn’t resist teasing him. “So, where are the rest of Tokyo Special Grades? I thought you guys were inseparable”

He shrugs it off casually, leaning down to whisper conspiratorially “Rehearsal. Don’t let ‘em know I’m here.”

As you titter at his antics, he gives you a playful nudge, eyes twinkling with mischief. “So…since the band’s away, how about you and me grab a drink together?.”

Something heavy pools in your stomach as those familiar words ring in your ears, hanging in the air - you knew all too well what he meant. 

Skin still tingling with the lingering heat of Toji’s touch, your eyes sweep the room for him one last time. Some strange part of your heart pangs when you find that those piercing green eyes, always studying you so intently, are nowhere to be found.

“Lead the way, Satoru.”

---

The world was rocking, as were Satoru’s fingers on you. Softly tracing along your collarbone, touch searing as he pushes you against the wall of your hotel room. 

Shivers run down your spine, all the way to your heated core. Breaths mingling, a desperate hunger ignites in the air as your fingers just barely graze against the buttons of his overpriced button-up. 

Tension reaching its peak, fingers hazily fumbling with those tedious buttons-

Bang!

You both startle as the door swings open, breaking the heady atmosphere inside. Dazed, you whirl your head towards the intruder standing at the door - Toji. Seems he had a penchant for dramatic entrances. 

Toji stands in the doorway, his gaze dark and unreadable. Without a word, he strides into the room, narrowed eyes flickering between you and Satoru.

“What the hell is going on here?” Toji’s voice is low and dangerous, cutting through the tense silence hanging in the air.

Satoru tries to play it cool, though you catch his easy smirk faltering slightly, “Oh? The bodyguard, right? What brings you here, my man?”

Ignoring the question - and Satoru altogether - Toji turns to you, eyes never leaving yours. “24/7 means 24/7. As your bodyguard, I can’t permit some stranger to get too close.” he asserts.

Mind still burning with lust, you feel red-hot irritation simmering beneath your skin. Fists clenching at the tone that leaves no room for argument. 

“I don’t recall signing up for a warden.” you snap, sharp and defiant. 

Toji’s expression remains impassive, but there’s a glint of determination in his eyes. “I’m not here to argue, princess. My job here is just to keep you safe, princess.” 

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief - this was ridiculous. “Uh, newsflash, Toji. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“You little brat-”

Before the argument can escalate further, Satoru cuts in, his voice uncharacteristically calm and conciliatory. “Hey, it's okay, man. I’ll just leave,” he says, stepping away from you and raising his hands in surrender.

You shoot Satoru a look of frustration, torn between the desire for independence and for someone to fucking make you cum, and the unsettling feeling of vulnerability that Toji’s presence somehow seems to evoke. As the door slams shut - not before a playful hum of “Call me, princess~!” - a deafening silence envelopes the room. 

The room that now feels too small. Too hot. Thighs still quivering in anticipation.

Shit. 

Mind racing, you don’t catch the way Toji’s gaze softens slightly, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry, princess. But I can’t take any chances, I’m here to protect you.” 

“Enough with this ‘princess’ crap.” Running a hand through your hair, you let out an exasperated sigh, trying desperately to quell the storm of emotions swirling uncomfortably inside you. “And protect me from what? A harmless hookup?”

“From whoever is sending those threats,” Toji growls. “Until we catch them, you’re not allowed to be alone with anyone.”

Frustration reaching a boiling point, you storm up to him. “Fine, then you can stay here and watch me 25/8 for all I care. But, what are you going to do about that?” each word punctuated by a hard poke to his sculpted chest, laced with defiance - but also something raw and primal.

Green eyes darkening with intensity, you watch his jaw clench in restraint. He takes a step impossibly close, the air crackling with something you couldn’t name.

“You don’t get to play games with me, princess,” he warns, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

But - as always - you refuse to back down. Heart racing, mind hazy, you stand close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. A hand reaching out to grasp his large ones, manicured nails digging into the heated skin. In one, fluid motion, you place his hand in between your skirt, heated core soaking through your thin panties. 

“I’m not playing games, Toji.”

Before you can react, your back hits the wall. Surface cool on your heated skin. A brick-hard body is against yours, you could almost sink into him at how close he was pressed. 

Heat rushing to your cheeks, slick gushing to your cunt, your eyes lock with Toji’s darkened ones. He murmurs, words low and making your pussy jump in anticipation, “Didn’t expect you to be so filthy, princess.”

You lean in, lips mere inches away from his, whispering seductively. “Oh you have no idea.”

You didn’t expect those to be the words that make him snap - then again, you didn’t expect him to snap so easily either.

Toji’s eyes widen slightly, his jaw dropping open as he processes your words. He stares at you darkly for a moment, gaze traveling over your flushed cheeks, your devilish grin, and finally settling on your heaving chest.

Toji pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other roughly tearing your skirt off your waist. Flimsy cloth hitting the carpeted floor. 

“Hey! Those are Dolce and-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence before his lips capture yours. Words catching in your throat as his tongue plunges unforgivingly into your mouth. 

Hands groping and teasing every inch of skin they could find. Kneading your breasts through your shirt, biting down hard on your bottom lip.

A desperate whine that you definitely would’ve been embarrassed about had you been in the right state of mind leaves your lips as something achingly hard grazes your core. Shit, you had an inkling but he was going to split you apart. Mindlessly wondering whether you’ll have to cancel the photoshoot tomorrow. Hips bucking for more more more-

“Patience, princess.” he murmurs, hotly against your lips. Thick fingers slipping beneath your panties - ripping them off. You gasp as the cold air hits your cunt, thighs quivering at the neat fingernail grazing your swollen folds. “You need to be taught a lesson first.”

You’re not in the mood for patience. But whatever retort gets stuck on the tip of your tongue as a long finger circles your throbbing clit. Tight, urgent little circles that inch you closer and closer to insanity. “F-faster-”

“You’ll take what I give, my lil’ slut.”

“I don’t have to listen to you.”

Ah, but alas - thank god for Toji Fushiguro being a merciful man. At least for the moment.

Pressing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your body, dropping to his knees with urgency of a madman. Gaze fiery fiery with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine - you were in for it. 

Licking his lips, tongue catching on that small scar by the corner, he dives nose-deep into your needy pussy. Bed mere meters away, Toji takes you right against the wall. 

His hungry gaze devours you just as greedily as the mouth on your cunt. “Ah! Hah- Oh, Toji!” you gasp, arching into his hurried yet expert tongue. Harsh, purposeful movements that send electric shocks straight to your core. 

“Not Toji, princess.” he murmurs, lips hot against your own. Urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst.

Something hot and sticky coils at your stomach - maybe at the way his tongue was crooking just right to tease your dripping entrance, bullying its way past your swollen folds. Or maybe at the way the realization has your slick beading out of your pulsing pussy.

“D-daddy?” you whimper, almost-experimentally. 

And apparently it was the right answer, as Toji lets out a guttural groan into your snug cunt. Nose catching against your abused clit, rubbing hurried little circles. Tongue stretching out your snug walls, pooling your juices, unforgivingly dipping in and out in and out in and-

Speeding up now, his tongue has you losing your mind in ways you didn’t even know were possible. “Hngh- faster. Fuck me like you want it, daddy.” you whine, hips grinding further into his mouth.. 

And he lets you. In your lust-addled mind you barely have time to think about this strange act of mercy - only thinking of how close you were. So close. So fucking close. Mere moments away from shattering completely. Mind filled with only Toji and his tongue and Toji-

“Didn’t think I’d be so nice to ya, did you, princess?”

Orgasm slipping through your fingers, your crash from euphoria matches that of your heart.

Ah, Toji could cream his pants at the way your face fell so adorably as he pulled away. Delicate strings of spit and slick still connecting him to your slutty pussy. 

“Toji?” you mewl, bruised lips falling into a pretty pout that made him want to throw caution to the find and stuff you full of his cock right now. But no, he had to teach his lil’ princess a thing or two about not getting everything she wants.

“Patience, princess.” With a grin, Toji warns, voice husky and sending shivers down your spine and making you grind your hips against his lips. Before you can whine in disappointment, a sharp smack! cuts through the heady air. The sound hits you before the realization that Toji hit you. 

A sharp slap against your ass, the impact shocking you briefly before arousal takes over. You yelp at the sting, eyes widening in surprise.

“Wha-”

“Count to ten, then I’ll let you cum. You need to learn a thing or two about listening, brat.”

You stare at him defiantly, your heart pounding in your chest. A silent staredown that only makes heat pool more and more desperately at your core. Deafening need, slick dripping down your legs pathetically.

“O-one.” you whisper, voice strained with frustration and barely audible.

He watches you like a predator stalking his prey, eyes never leaving your face. Smack!

His hand connects with your ass again, a low hum of appreciation at the mewl leaving your kiss-bitten lips at the pain and filthy pleasure. Your ass stinging as much as your dripping cunt.

“...two.”

Apparently approving of your obedience, he dives back in with a low growl. Burning his face between your thighs, because fuck oxygen - breathing couldn’t compare to how sweet you were on his tongue.

Lapping up your sensitive folds, scar rough against them, teasing. Edging your climax and your sanity like the merciless bastard he was. Smack! 

“Hah- ah! Two- Oh, jus’ like that-” Broken, raw moans escape your lips as he continues his torture. Ah, he loved this view. The people’s princess, so teary and falling apart because of him.

In the obscenity of it all, thick fingers stuff themselves in your cunt. The lack of preparation makes you squeeze around Toji’s tongue as they pump into your sloppy hole relentlessly. In and out in and out- 

Smack!

“Th-three- hngh-”

Purposefully missing that one spot Toji knew would have you seeing stars. You haven’t earned that yet.

Blood rushes straight to his cock as you throw your head back, letting out a strangled sob. “Daddy, let me cum. Wanna cum on your tongue. Ah-” Oh, you clever minx, knew exactly what made his leaking cock throb with need. For that you get two sharp smacks on each cheek. 

“F-four. Five.” you’re in tears at this point. Delicate little streaks down your cheeks to where Toji had his face buried in your cunt.

“Tha’s right, princess.” Toji praises, voice thick with desire and sending vibrations that make your walls clench. “Tell me how badly you need it.”

Body convulsing uncontrollably around his hot tongue, pushing you closer and closer to the edge - only to reel you back again. Denying you. Chipping away at your sanity bit by bit. A hand reaches to grab a fistful of his silky black locks, tugging needily - and you get punished accordingly. 

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“E-eight! Hngh- please.” 

“Please!” you moan, voice raw with need and desperation. Finally breaking for him - being pushed this far with anyone before. “Please, let me cum. Please please wanna cum-.” Close. You were so close that it hurt.

Ever the merciful man, he forgives this little transgression. Only continuing to cup your sore cheeks possessively, hands mapping the expanse of your heated skin.

“Please, Daddy.” you choke, a broken whisper. Now exhausted, knees weakening, it’s all you can do to not collapse on the floor, Toji’s strong hold on your hip to control you being the only thing holding you up.

Several things happen at once. You barely even feel the final two, sharp slaps - too far gone to register anything other than the rough thumb pressing on your sensitive clit. Hard. 

And then you’re cumming. 

Body convulsing and bowing into him, crying out raw moans of Toji’s name as you cream around his tongue. Your vision blurs at the edges, grip searing on Toji’s hair, tangling in the soft strands and pulling him impossibly closer to ride out your high on his pretty face. 

White-hot pleasure courses through your entire body, thighs quivering delicately around his face as you chase peak after peak. 

As the stars behind your eyes disappear into nothingness, you’re left limp and boneless, held up against the wall with a single, muscled hand.

Toji - ever the gentleman, supports you with a steady arm before you slip down the wall, valiant knees finally giving out. 

Blinking your vision back, you catch a glimpse of his achingly hard erection. Straining painfully against his trousers, a dark patch right where his thick head was. And despite your severely fucked out state, your mouth still waters.

Obviously catching your line of sight, he adjusts his uncomfortably tight pants. Steering your still-lustfully delirious self to the bed. “You were such a good girl f’me, princess. Let’s stay that way, hm?”

You blink up at him, confusion clouding your mind. Did he just compliment you? You must be mistaken. 

But as you look into his eyes, you see a genuine twinkle of fondness mixed in with the desire that makes your skin burn. A heady combination. One that makes your mind spin, even as you’re carefully placed on the soft bed. Even as he swiftly closes the door with a low whisper of “Rest now, you’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” leaving no room for argument.

Sinking into the soft mattress, a strange surge of euphoria rushes through you as you realize two things:

Nothing would ever be the same. 

It was going to be your personal challenge to make Toji Fushiguro crack. 

Heart racing, feet thumping tersely against the plush carpet, for perhaps the first time in years, Fushiguro Toji is taken aback. The heavenly sight of you falling apart underneath him searing into his brain. Something coiling uncomfortably in his stomach, rushing all the way to his throbbing dick. But, right now, the only thing he’s thinking of being to fucking find somewhere to fuck his fist to the memory.

---

Your third night in Tokyo was a whirlwind of lights and camera flashes. And yet, in the midst of it all you still escaped - this time with Toji - claiming “security talks”. Pulling him into an abandoned green room, your glossy lips capture his with searing passion. Pulling away teasingly, breathless, only once you were sure you’d kissed him silly and achingly hard. And promptly skipping away to bother your make-up artist.

Ah, yet the stubborn bastard still didn’t crack.

It’s in Melbourne where you learned that Toji was much more than just a bodyguard. Finally bothering him enough to join you out rather than shadow you for the first time. Dragging him to a tiny karaoke booth tucked away in a dimly lit corner of town, belting out your favorite tunes to him while he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. And if you caught a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, well, neither of you said anything. 

Your glittering heels were placed teasingly in his lap, chattering away as he drove you two back, your favorite pastime as of late. A silent dare, almost goading. His steely gaze trained on the bustling road and that one annoying blue car trying to swerve him. 

“So, Toji, in your military stint ever tried to sneak away incognito but wear a disguise so bad you end up on the front page?”

He chuckles, eyes flickering down at your feet resting comfortably on him. “Can’t say I have, but I once mistook a high-ranking officer for a recruit. Had him doing push-ups before I realized my mistake.”

You burst into laughter, sound echoing in the car. Feet brushing against him right there - just a little accident, right?

But it takes until Paris for you two to break.

In the chic confines of your favorite studio in Nanterre, the scent of freshly brewed coffee heavy in the air, you find yourself chattering away on call with Gojo Satoru. His voice crackling through the speaker amidst the glow of studio lights.

“That beat you sent is pure magic, Satoru. It’s perfect!” you hum, excitement bubbling in your voice as you bob your head to the soft music playing in the background. 

Satoru’s response is immediate, enthusiasm matching yours, “See, what did I tell ya. Can’t wait to see what you’ll come up with. You sure I get no sneak peaks for this secret lil’ project of yours?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Thought so, but anyway, how’s the City of Love been treating you, darling?” he teases.

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully, “Please, Satoru. You know I’m too busy dodging Toji for any of that.”

Satoru chuckles knowingly on the other end of the line, “Ah yes. From what happened last time, I imagine he’s been a welcome distraction, huh? Hey, is his dick really as big as his BDE is?”

“Oh fuck off.” you scoff, heat rising to your cheeks. “And for that, I’m leaving.” 

Swiftly ending the call, you cut off Satoru’s protests. Slight embarrassment coursing through your veins at how apparently obvious you two had been. A strange pang of longing flickers in your chest as you realize you haven’t seen Toji all day - Nanami mentioned something about a security briefing for your closely upcoming Grammy performance.

You sigh at the irony of the situation - just when you thought you got that freedom you’d been yearning for so long, you find yourself wanting for that musclehead presence even more. 

Shaking your head, you turn back to your mixing console, ready to throw yourself into the music once more. Yet before you could, your phone buzzes with a new notification. A quick glance reveals that familiar contact name and a series of messages that have your cheeks flaring once more. 

Blind rat #4 🧿🧿:

You better not block me for this but is this secret project for that bodyguard? You whipped WHORE~~

LMAO JKJK IK you don’t write songs about other people.

Unless…

As that block button was tapped, it’s said that Satoru’s piercing shriek echoed across in all 23 wards of Tokyo - making the people fear an oncoming Godzilla attack.

“Damn Satoru.” you grumble, tossing your phone onto the leather sofa in the corner. “Always saying stupid thi-”

But as you turn around, your breath catches in your throat. There, standing in the doorway, is Toji. His presence filling the space, commanding attention with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Toji?” you breathe, surprise mingling with a rush of conflicting emotions. “I didn’t expect the briefing to end so soon-”

“What’s this about that brat Satoru, princess?” he murmurs, voice low and gravelly. 

He raises his head to meet your gaze, and a jolt of electricity runs through your body. Oh, those eyes. Your skin feels heated in the crackling air. “Nothing.” you reply - almost suspiciously quickly - the words tumbling out in a rush, “Just Satoru being...well, Satoru.”

Toji’s lips twitch in a semblance of a smile, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes among that carnal look. “I see,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you. You have half the mind to step back - but why would you ever.

“Y’know, I didn’t think you still talk with that white-haired clown.” his minty breath fans your face, darkened eyes searching yours. And you can see the question forming in them before he even asks. “You still plan on fuckin’ him when you go back to Tokyo?”

And usually you’d bristle. Usually, that hardened part of you that never takes shit would rear her head and give Toji an earful. Usually. But right now, a dangerous idea was taking root in your head. 

Heat rushing to your core at the look in his eyes that said he wanted to devour you alive, you simply tilt your head coyly. 

“So what?” A smirk playing on your lips, “Gonna do something about it, daddy? Or are you just gonna leave me all hot and bothered like you have-”

Your back hits the leather sofa before you even realize what is happening. 

Bouncing at the sheer force of his throw, you let out a yelp of surprise. Skirt riding up, legs splaying out so sinfully for him. 

The cushion dips as he looms closer, approaching you unhurriedly like a predatory closing in on its prey. A dangerous little smirk playing on your lips, you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. A carnal part of you relishing in the way his eyes can’t seem to decide between your soaked panties and the way you bite your lips so coyly.

“If you’re that desperate, then you’re gonna get it, my lil’ slut” 

He’s on top of you now, tongue hot against your neck, leaving heated, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. You yelp as sharp teeth dig into the soft skin. Hands exploring every inch of you, desperate for more - and you’re no better.

Sharp nails digging into that sinfully tight t-shirt, all but tearing it to shreds. Your mouth waters as it hits the floor, Toji’s chiseled body on full display. Your eyes greedily take in every curve and dip, hands reaching out to grope the toned skin. Pulling. Teasing. Not enough time in the world to savor the Adonis that was Toji Fushiguro.

His hands were pulling up your shirt haphazardly. Bunching your panties with two fingers, pulling down down down till your cunt was bare and spread open so shamefully for him. “Shit, so wet n’ ready. This for me or that brat, huh?” he grunts cruelly, lowering himself beside you to murmur in your ear.

“Now, on your knees, princess. Be a good lil’ slut for me and don’t make me wait.”  breath hot against your ears, making you shudder so sinfully. It made him want to eat you alive.

You consider disobeying him, just to face his delicious punishment. But that predatory look in his eyes has you immediately dropping to the ground in front of him.

Your hungry gaze takes in the heavenly sight before you. Legs spread, eyes half-lidded, pants pulled down just enough so that his heavy, leaking cock bobbing enticingly in the air. 

Eyes widening, your cunt clenches in both fear and anticipation. Shit, maybe this was why he was holding back. 

He was big. Ridiculously big, and rock-hard. Furiously red with thick veins running down the side, glistening with precum.

“C’mon now, if you’re gonna act like such a slut then learn to take it like one, princess.” Saliva pools on your tongue, warm as it hits Toji’s thick tip, achingly hard. A carnal part of you relishes in the low hiss that leaves him. 

Your tongue snakes out, unable to hold yourself back any longer. Swiping at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. The sinfully salty taste explodes on your tongue, sending shocks of pleasure right to your cunt.

You feel his intense gaze on you as your mouth wraps around his thick head, inching down slowly. Stretching your lips obscenely, filling you up in ways you never thought were possible. 

Your breath gets caught in your throat as he pulses in your throat. It was overwhelming and everything you wanted to be doing right now.

Ah, but you should’ve known by now. Should’ve realized as your teary eyes look up to meet the dangerous glint in his. 

With a feral groan, his hips thrust forward. You were too slow. 

Hardening impossibly at the way you choke and gag around him, tears springing to your eyes. Using you in a way that was so debauched. “Hah- Fuck. love it when you sing, princess, but you look better choking on my cock.”

Your nose was buried in his pubic hair now, wet with saliva and precum. His heady, masculine scent filling your senses. Toji’s thrusts were jerky, desperate. 

Grip searing on your scalp, Toji uses it as leverage as he fucks your face till his tip hits your poor, abused throat. Moving you up and down on his cock with mindless need, hips rutting with reckless abandon.

Yet, you wanted more. Needed more. More more more. You wanted to feel him deep inside you, splitting you open, making you come harder than you ever thought possible.

And you’re guessing it showed on your dazed eyes. Because a broken, dangerous laugh leaves him. His grip on your hair intensifies, pulling your head back roughly until your eyes water. “More? You want fucking more? Then prove it.” 

Toji’s thrusts increase in speed, his raspy grunts becoming louder and louder as he rams his cock deeper into your mouth, your pussy throbbing in response.

You moan around his erection, unable to form coherent sentences due to his length stretching your throat. 

Without hesitation, you reach up and grab his balls, massaging them firmly as you suck him deeper. Pressing right in between that one spot you knew would make him see stars. Pressing tight little circles. Over and over-

An appreciative groan leaving him, Toji’s thrusts become erratic. Movements growing frantic. “Fuck, Fuck, princess, you're going to be the death of me,” he curses, his voice strained.

You rub your thighs together desperately, relaxing your throat more, refusing to let go. Desperate to taste him, to experience the blissful agony of his seed painting your mouth. But when has Toji ever let you have your way? Never, that’s when.

Instead, he yanks your head back, pulling you off his cock with a rough, almost cruel motion. Your lips pop free, leaving his sensitive head exposed to the cool air. Gasping for breath, your chest heaves as you try to regain your composure.

Before you can even register what's happening, Toji pulls you into him, forcing you on your hands and knees. Large hands grasp your waist, holding you firmly in place. “Face down, ass up. You’re going to take it like a good little slut.”

Delicious goosebumps erupt down your spine. Licking a long, languid stripe down your back along them as you position yourself before him, Toji couldn’t help but huff out a dangerous laugh at your sinful gasp.

Mouth watering at your glistening cunt, clenching so pathetically around nothing, Toji pools your juices on two of his fingers. Promptly pushing them into his mouth with a lewd pop! groaning at his favorite taste. “Next time, I’m gonna eat out your pretty lil’ cunt while you suck on my cock, princess.”

“Please, daddy. Anything.”

Fingers circling your wet entrance, your words were music to Toji’s ears. Music that mingles with your needy, disappointed whine as he abruptly pulls away. But that doesn’t last too long - with low hiss, he buries his throbbing cock into your dripping cunt with almost no preparation.  

You keen at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 

Toji was hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump sending white-hot pleasure down your spine.

“Ah- are- are you all the way in, daddy?” he hears you whimper, voice tinged with helpless desperation. Huffing out a laugh, Toji’s greedy gaze catches on the obscene sight of you sucking him up so sinfully below. “Not even close, princess.”

Pushing in shallow, determined little thrusts that have your hot cunt enveloping him deeper and deeper. Cock hardening impossibly at the soft ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he rams into you. If you wanted it so bad, you were going to get all of it. A hoarse groan leaves him as his heavy balls meet your twitching folds, fat tip kissing your cervix - finally bottoming out. 

Now, Toji knows he’s big - takes pride in it, in fact. But he’s never been more proud of the fact than right now, hungry gaze taking up the way your eyes widen in shock, snug walls clenching down with the struggle to accommodate him. 

“You alright, princess?” he taunts, voice thick with satisfaction as he watches your face twist with a mix of pleasure and pain. “Can’t your slutty lil’ pussy handle my cock?” Tell me, he as big as me? 

And, of course, you snap back - because you’re mouthy even when you’re whining around his thick cock. Ah, next time he’s gotta make you choke on it for longer. 

“Fuck you, daddy.” your response is a feral growl, hips desperately trying to fuck back into his. “If you’re not all talk then fuck me like you want to already.”

Smack! 

A sharp slap stinging your cheek, you groan in response as absolutely raw, carnal fucking need courses through Toji’s veins. Intoxicating him. Oh, he was going to ruin you. Grinning cruelly, he utters “Then take it. And don’t fucking complain.”

With that, he begins to move. Not easing in, ramming into you with animalistic efficiency. Your ass stinging as each thrust has his hips meeting yours brutally. Toji’s pretty sure his hips were out of control at this point, high off your teary cries of pain and pleasure. That cluttered studio heady with sex and pure, animalistic desperation.”S’good- ah! S’too much-”

Smack!

There’s no going back now. Toji fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits, and you love every painful second of it.

Vision blurring at the edges, you reach out a hand to grab the armrest for stability. Body jerking with each movement, his bruising grip on your hips the only thing keeping you from being fucked off the sofa.

“Who’s fucking ruining you like this?”

“You! Jus’  like that. Fucking ruin me, daddy.” Legs shaking uncontrollably, arching impossibly deeper onto his throbbing cock, you whine each time his length slides in and out of your swollen folds. “Harder…please, harder.” you plead, fucked out.

For perhaps the first time, he obliges, increasing his speed mindlessly. God, you were sure both of you were about to explode any second now. 

Fucked out of your mind, you barely register the muscled front pressing into you, abs rippling against your back. Large hands snake from your hips, leaving deep, purple marks for you to remember him by. 

Smack! 

Another handprint on your ass, as you frantically move your hips to meet Toji’s unforgiving cadence. Sensing your urgency, one of his hands finds itself on your throbbing clit, drawing methodical, harsh circles on it. Pressing just enough to have you seeing stars being your eyes. And the other - digging into your neck.

Your frantic moans choke in your throat, feeling fucking delirious off both the change in angle and the hand around your throat. Eyes flashing at the lack of air and the blood roaring in your ears - and Toji. 

“Open your mouth, princess.” he grows, voice dangerously close to your ears, cock still driving into yours with brutal precision. The intensity of the moment - electric. 

Mindlessly, you comply, tongue lolling out so lewdly. That’s when he does it - without warning, he spits into your open mouth. Once. Twice. Three times.

Steady stream of saliva slightly missing your face - on purpose, you absentmindedly realize - as it dribbles over your kiss-bitten lips and down the side of your face. A marking. 

“No one else gets to fuck you like this, princess.”

Hot on your tongue, sliding down to your throat. He tasted of such sin, it made your cunt clamp down hard.

“Now, what do good girls say?” he grits out, through clenched teeth. The absolute insanity in his voice matching the frenzy coiling inside of you.

“Thank you, daddy.”

You reach around to capture his lips with yours, nails digging into his neck hard enough to draw blood - a marking of your own. White-hot ropes of pleasure making you gasp into his lips - tender where his cock was unforgiving.

In the lewd haze of the moment you’re dimly aware of Toji’s body shuddering above you, throbbing cock twitching deeply in your pussy.

“Oh, fuck! M-hah- M’cumming, better take every drop like my good lil’ slut. Fuck.” 

You flinch as he groans ragged profanities into your mouth. Tight balls squeezing painfully as he cums with a loud groan of your name. Thick, hot ropes that paint your walls white. Two large arms wrap bruisingly tight around your waist, veins popping out as he crushes you impossibly close to him. Toji’s hips not giving up their torture on your abused, awaiting cunt, pumping his seed deeper and deeper. 

Full. You feel so full. And so, so complete. 

You can feel such an obscene mix of your slick and his cum mapping down your legs every time his hips slam into yours. Dripping onto the cushion, pooling at the sofa in a way so sloppy, you knew you’d have to scour online later for a replacement.

Stomach now feeling uncomfortably inflated and hot, vision blurry, you collapse onto the cushion. The last of your strength leaving you with the orgasm that you’re sure fried your brain. You mewl at both the sensitivity and the sudden emptiness as Toji pulls out with a wet pop!

A rush of cum gushes out of you, drenching both you and the cushion below. Limp and boneless beneath him,  you let out a sigh at the heat of his release seeping into your skin.

A soft silence fills the room like a lullaby. Everything feels so heavy. So dizzying and so warm. You barely register the strong hands lifting you gently towards the direction of the bathroom. The only thing on your mind being Toji and what a privilege it was to fall asleep in someone’s arms. You wouldn’t really mind this every night…

And in the dim lighting of that heady studio, fucked to sleep and covered in sweat and his cum, Toji thinks you’ve never looked so beautiful.

His heart lurches as he realizes - in all of Paris, the one sight he wants to look at is you. His pretty popstar.

---

“For the last time. I don’t do celebrities, especially not spoiled pretty popstars.”

Undeterred, the blond man leans forward in his chair, his expression indiscernible behind those glasses. “We’re told you’re the best of the best, even from ex-military. And if money’s the issue then I’ll double- no, triple whatever you’re making right now.”

Jaw tightening, skepticism dripped from his words. “All this for some celebrity drama?” 

“Fushiguro, we’re talking big people, and even bigger money. And a girl’s life in genuine danger on top of it all,” a hint of desperation creeping into words that cut through the tense air. 

“Genuine danger, huh?”

Toji runs a hand through his hair, questioning what the fuck he got himself into by opening the door for this human definition of a stick up one’s ass. Mind racing, eyes darting around the room, they catch yours - twinkling on the glossy cover of some magazine thrown haphazardly on the table. 

Traitorously, something prickly and uncomfortable settles in his stomach as the words ring in his ears. 

Genuine danger. 

Heaving out a sigh, he narrows his eyes at the man currently studying his reaction. 

“A year. That’s it. No more, no less. I don’t care if that prima donna princess of yours begs on her knees otherwise.”

But right now, your twinkling gaze set on him, lips curved into a blinding smile as you waltz through Los Angeles International Airport - as much as you could with your entourage - some small, raw part of him thinks he wouldn’t mind staying like this for a long, long time. 

LAX was probably one of your favorite airports. Not because of its size or architecture, but because of the thrumming energy of the opportunity to come. Namely, your Grammy performance.

Eyes slightly heavy, yeah, you were cutting it close - to Nanami’s ever-graying hair at the stress.  But hey - at least no paparazzi tipped off for your unexpected arrival.

You just couldn’t resist the temptation to push your departure off for a day. Taking the extra time to wander along the Seine with Toji, talking about everything from your new dance number for next month’s Madrid show to why Nanami was a masochist for staying in this industry, all the way to Toji’s military stories that even Hollywood couldn’t dream up. 

The setting sun casting a soft glow on both of your uncanny disguises - your choice of course. A newfound understanding crackling between you two.

And right now, his presence steadfast behind yours as you weave through the bustling terminal, you feel a rush of excitement at finally performing that little project you’d been working on. 

More specifically what Toji’s reaction to it would be. Would he love it? Would he hate it? Would he realize just what that inconspicuous voice memo you bothered him into was actually for? 

But then came the real test: would he realize just who it was for?

The thought made you smirk inwardly. Imagine Toji’s face when he puts two and two together. 

Turning around, you catch Toji’s eye, a mirthful glint dancing in yours. “So, Toji, ready to witness greatness at the Grammys?” you quip, tone playful as you bump shoulders with him. Of course, the man barely budges. 

He raises an eyebrow, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “As long as I don't have to wear a tuxedo, princess.”

“Aww, and here I was thinking we could match.” you whine. Though a chuckle leaves your lips, “And that reminds me…” you trail off as your voice drops to a conspicuous whisper.

Delighting at the playful sigh that leaves his lips as Toji leans down, allowing you to whisper words meant for only him. “You better reward me after my performance, y’know. I remember someone saying something about ‘eating me out till I cry’” 

“You won’t be getting any reward if you continue acting like such a slut, princess.” warm breath tickling your ear as he murmurs. 

“If the shoe fits.” you bat your lashes, mockingly innocent. 

“If the shoe fits then please get into the car. The driver’s here and the team are on their way.” Nanami’s no-nonsense voice rings out. Already sounding dangerously close to an impending stroke. 

“Yes, mother.” you quip, stifling your laughter as you step outside. It’s a short walk to your destination, the cool morning breeze greeting you as you head for your waiting car, just stuck behind some slightly-oddly parked blue car. 

Ah, that’s LA for you, you chuckle inwardly, walking towards it - that strangely familiar blue car. The one you’ve seen a few too many times these past few weeks in the corner of your vision. 

Strange.

Steps slightly speeding up, a cold sweat trickles down your spine. Unease prickling at the back of your mind, something tells you you’re being watched. And not in the way of paparazzi snapping a stray picture.

Subconsciously, you take a half-glance inside the car - time freezes. Heart immediately lurching into your throat at the sight.

There. 

The door swings open. 

A flash of blue hair, one foot out of that dreaded blue car - is him. You don’t know how you knew it was him. You don’t know how you knew he was there. The only thing being your eyes locked on that glinting knife in his hand. Winking mockingly at you in the morning sun. 

Gray eyes locked on yours, whirling with chilling maniacal intensity. The cool morning breeze feels icy against your skin as a primal fear claws at your insides once you realize the imminent danger.

Toji’s trained instincts kick into high gear, eyes locked with his. Positioning himself between you and the assailant, his hand reaches for the weapon concealed beneath his suit jacket. Only for them to stutter in midair as he realizes they’re still safely stored in his checked luggage. Unreachable. 

Shit. Clever bastard.

Nanami moves with a swift grace, eyes scanning the surroundings for any nearby law enforcement. 

Mahito’s lips curl into a malevolent smirk as he realizes the vulnerability, grip tightening on his knife as he takes a menacing step forward. The air so tense you found it hard to breathe.

“You.” the words ring venomously, panic surging within you. “You think you’re so high and mighty, huh?”

“Step back before you do something you regret, you freak.” Toji’s voice is steady, body poised for action. Eyes locked on every minute tremor of the knife in his hands.

His eyes wide and bloodshot, staring right into Toji - almost as if trying to look at you through him. “Little princess~” he taunts in an eerie sing-song voice. “Why did you leave me here all alone, I was lonely, y’know~ And this gorilla never left you alone, ah what a pain to follow you around. But I did it- of course, I did it for my princess.” 

Another step forward.

No one engaged with Mahito’s delirious rambles. Nanami’s hand was firm on your shoulder, whispering in your ear to get away. Now. 

But your mind was stuck on the words that cut through you like a knife - the knife that he was now slicing through the air in jagged, deranged motions. “She can’t leave. She belongs here with me.”

Before anyone can react, Mahito throws himself forward with startling speed. Glinting blade deadly through the air. You stagger backward, the world spinning in a dizzying blur of fear and desperation.

Toji springs into action with lightning speed, body lunging expertly. Hands deflecting the blade with a swift motion. Knife flashing mere millimeters away from his skin.

Yet Mahito continues struggling relentlessly. Each movement calculated and cold. Hand slashing at Toji as he ducks and weaves away, attempting to divert the attack away from you. 

The grip on your shoulder tightens, “Let’s get away now. While he’s distracted.” 

You’re being pulled away before you know it. 

Movements sluggish in the air thick with tension and fear. Your body is frozen, ice running through your veins. Nanami’s urgent hold on your shoulder moving you away. 

But your eyes remain locked on Toji.

On the way he swiftly tries to find an opening amidst the blur of movement, knife slashing away as if it were a game. You were fighting to look back now, body twisting against the one moving you away. Struggling to follow Toji’s powerful kick to Mahito’s midsection. The impact knocking the wind out of him, knife faltering. Yet rage still surging.

Hand coming down down down. Merciless metal meeting skin. Red-hot crimson flashing behind your eyes and staining the ground below Toji as he’s slashed viciously. 

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

It’s in Los Angeles that you think you might lose him.

The sickening sound of metal against flesh echoing amidst the blood-curdling scream you don’t realize you let out. 

The sound making Mahito falter for the briefest millisecond, a flicker of hesitation flitting across his twisted features.

And it’s all the opening Toji needs. 

Launching himself at the man, colliding with a bone-jarring impact that has both bodies crashing to the ground. 

A deadly struggle, and despite Mahito’s fierce grappling - fueled by pure madness - he’s no match for Toji’s punishing blows. Every strike clear and calculated, pinning his flailing hands to the ground.

The screech of metal against gravel and distant footsteps ring in your ears, as Toji wrestles the knife from his hands. Glinting metal skidding away.

 For a fleeting moment, the world seems to hold its breath.

“You’re supposed to be with me.” Mahito's voice pierces through the din, voice hoarse and desperate. “I’m the one who’s been there for you ever since you stepped foot in that godforsaken agency. Me. It’s me.” he snarls. Eyes cutting into yours.

Takedown tightening, Toji pins his body tighter against the ground. “You don’t have the right to talk to her, you blue-haired freak. Be grateful we’re in broad daylight and I can’t rip you limb from limb for her.”

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding as Toji’s strained yet still steady voice rings in your ears - in tune with the voices you’re now realizing were surrounding you. As uniform-clad figures rush into your circle of vision, you distinctly realize with a jolt that it’s over. 

Knees weakening in relief, you feel them hit the gravel. It’s all over. You feel light-headed - absolutely delirious. Vision blurring with tears and all you can see is red red red. 

Blood roaring in your ears, you miss Mahito’s shrieks as he’s restrained and escorted away. The only thing registering in your mind being the warm hand under your arm, pulling you up gently as if you were something so utterly precious. 

Toji.

“Are you okay, princess? Need me to loosen another one of that bastard’s teeth?” he rumbles slowly, slightly breathless. As you cling onto the words like a lifeline, a fresh wave of tears prick your eyes at his uncharacteristically careful tone.

“Are you okay?” you repeat, words heavy with remorse as you blink at the sight of that stark red against his t-shirt. A deep gash running along his side that left Toji vulnerable in ways you knew he would never openly admit. 

Seeing your shaken state, he lets out a sigh. Pulling you flush against his chest, careful to avoid his injury. “I’ll be fine princess.” he murmurs, quiet words strained and meant for only you, amidst the chaos in the background. You lean into his touch, reveling in the feeling of him being solid and whole and here. With you.

You think you could stay like that forever. 

Ah, but one can’t get everything they want. 

Nanami’s voice cuts through the fragile peace with his usual calm authority, “I've spoken with the authorities,” you whirl around to meet his exhausted gaze. “They’ve assured me that Mahito will be taken into custody, and measures are being put in place to prevent any future incidents.”

Eyes flitting between you and Toji, he continues, voice taking on a much softer tone. “There’s no need for you to attend the Grammys after all that happened, I understand and will contact them if you wish to stay here.” And with that, Nanami walks away to a nearby police officer, presumably to give a statement - but you knew better, grateful for the moment of privacy he’d given you two.

Right. The Grammys.

Part of you is relieved at the prospect of not having to pretend that everything is fine in front of the flashing cameras and millions of scrutinizing eyes. And the other part, well, you glance up at Toji. 

Wide eyes meeting those green ones. Unspoken questions swirling between you two like a whirlwind. Is it really over? What does that mean for us? Will you stay?

Please stay.

“I don’t want to go,”  you confess quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “I want to stay here with you, make sure you’re okay.”

Toji’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth flickering in his usually steely eyes as he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face. “My princess worries about me, hm? I’ll be fine.” he reassures, yet words weak from the pain. “Go out there and kill it.”

And in the delicate tension of it all you find it in yourself to arch your eyebrow skeptically, “Fine? You’re bleeding out, Toji. That doesn’t exactly scream ‘fine’ to me.”

“I’ve had worse, I promise. Worst case scenario I track that freak down and break his arm.”

You let out a watery laugh as Toji leans down, hot breath fanning your face. His lips brush against yours in a tender kiss. A silent reassurance. But just as quickly as it began, he pulls back with a playful bite to your lower lip.

“Now go. Blow the overpriced silk pants off of all those overrated snobs. Trust me.”

You almost bristle at his words, but that twinkle of fondness in his eyes made all your inhibitions melt away - involuntarily, of course. Throat tight, you give an affirmative nod. 

Now, Toji always did delight in catching you off guard. But right now, ignoring the fussing EMTs, watching you be hastily ushered away by your team - the words tumble out before he can stop them. 

“Oi, princess.” he calls out, voice carrying over the chaos. “I love ya.”

And as he watched you trip over nothing but thin air, a lightheaded chuckle leaves him - maybe it was the bloodloss, probably it was that adorable look on your face. “Smooth, princess.” he laughs.

As you regain your composure and flip him off, promptly being whisked away by Nanami - who looks two steps into his grave already - Toji can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell within him. “Tha’s my girl,” he mutters to himself, a rare gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

---

“Ladies and gentlemen, music aficionados around the world. It is my pleasure to announce our next performance, a star who needs no introduction. Get ready to witness the talent, the charisma, and the sheer audacity of the one, the only-.”

Cameras flashing. Cheers roaring, The anticipation electric as your name echoes through the auditorium, the audience’s excitement reaching a fever pitch as you take to the stage.

“Buckle up, darlings, because this is ‘Government Hooker’!”

---

“They don’t call you pop royalty for nothing, huh? You're going to take over the charts with that one!”

“Girl, who was that sexyass voice in that song? Drop me his number if you aren’t already with him.”

“Stunning as usual, huh?”

The whirlwind of congratulations and praise envelop you back at the Grammys afterparty. Your hand throbs from being clutched so tightly, and you can’t help but smile at the adrenaline and euphoria thrumming through your veins, washing away most of what happened earlier today. Yeah, you killed it.

But as you navigate through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and posing for photos, a nagging part of your mind keeps returning to Toji. Red, red to match your gown. He should’ve been here with you tonight. 

Nodding and smiling along at the compliments, you find yourself drifting away from the bustling center of the party. Constantly checking your phone for any updates other than Nanami’s “He’s alive.” text from a few hours ago.

Ah, there it is.

Finally reaching the exit, goosebumps erupt along your skin as you step out into the chilly night air. You’re momentarily blinded by the barrage of camera flashes from the waiting paparazzi outside. Their shouts merging into an indistinguishable cacophony. 

Yet, you push forward, determined to reach your awaiting car.

Just as you approach the curb, a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulls up beside you, tinted windows shielding the figure inside. God, you gotta remember to give Nanami a raise.

Swiftly sliding in, “Nanami you wouldn’t believe-” 

“I’d hope I don’t look anything like that walking resignation letter.” 

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you turn towards the figure seated beside you, and there he is. Toji.

All signature smirk and twinkling eyes despite the bandages wrapped tightly around his torso.

A gasp leaves as your eyes catch on them, a million thoughts running through your head at once. “Wait, what are you even doing here- You’re hurt, are you even okay- Should we call the ambulance? Those look like-”

“Woah woah, slow down princess. I’m clearly alive, hm? Why, shouldn’t your muse be there to personally pick you up?” he chuckles. “Besides, you killed it out there. That shit was playing was all that every radio was playing for the last hour.”

You can’t help but laugh at his teasing tone, relief flooding through you at the sound of his voice. “Well, you are the exception.” Reaching over and gently cupping his cheek, that small scar was rough against your thumb.

Leaning in, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, you take in the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the way his hand rests protectively on your thigh.

“Thank you.” you whisper, breath hot against his lips. And though you don’t specify for what - both of you know. Both of you understand. Your lips meet his in a lingering kiss, he tastes of mint and the anticipation of something new and freeing. 

Pulling away slightly, his gaze meets yours with a rare little vulnerability. “Always, princess.” A raw second of silence.

One. Two. Before a smug smirk curls his lips, hand squeezing your thigh. “Now, I remember someone wanting to be eaten out till she cried as a reward?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Oh yeah? Right here, right now?”

“Think we’ll make the front page, princess?”

“I know so.” 

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

It’s right now, giggling amidst the chaos of flashing cameras and forgotten afterparties, that you think you just might love him.

A/N. Actually frothing at the mouth I want him so bad y’all. Also, reader isn’t Lady Gaga, I just think the song fit.

Reblogs so, so appreciated.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: enemies to lovers, past bullying, reformed bully x victim

♡ fem reader

“No way.” You shake your head—face warped in something akin to disgust. Judging him for even asking, glaring in disbelief at him and what dangles from the clothing hanger in his hand. He couldn't be serious.

“Come on, please, for me?” he pleads, downright pleads. But there’s no way.

“No.” You say more firmly, planting both hands on your tilted hips. “I don’t get what you’re thinking, but it’s not exactly a time in our lives I want to relive.”

He pouts and sags a little where he stands, clasping his hands together in prayer, making the ill-taste outfit swing. “Oh, come on, it won’t be the same as then,” he promises with zero believability backing him. He even dares smile as he spouts the bullshit in his next words, “It’ll be like therapy. Let’s reframe your trauma together.”

You scoff. He’s unbelievable. “You’re stupid.”

He feigns feeling insulted. “I’m serious!”

“You always said I looked like trash in that—no way I’m not putting it on,” you dismiss.

But then he gets down on his knees. Hands still together as if in worship. Looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. “I was lying through my teeth back then—you know that! I’ll be honest this time around. Tell you exactly how often I had to change my pants because of you—”

“Ew, stop.” You can’t believe the spectacle he’s creating—such a drama queen—and all for getting you to put on a make-shift copy of your old high-school uniform.

“Come one, pretty, pretty, pretty please?” He shuffles forward on his knees until he’s right by your feet—bottom lip jutting out in his pout. “The prettiest please?”

You look down at him—you mouth a prim pursed line, gritting your teeth to try and steal yourself. Grimacing at the outfit sprawled on his lap. There’s no way. Absolutely no way.

“Pretty please?” he continues, making you roll your eyes with a sigh.

“Fine,” you bite out but quickly add, “But you have to wear one, too.”

You think you’re being smart. But he only grins—a wicked little twinkle in his eye.

“Way ahead of you.”

From behind the outfit meant for you, he pulls forth a black gakuran to match.

Okay, so you hadn’t really thought he would have bought one for himself—you realize now the mistake in your speculation. Of course, he’d bought one for himself. But hold on… You raise your brow, folding your arms atop your chest. “And where’s the pants?”

“They didn’t have my size, but my sweats are already a good lookalike,” he explains away. “This doesn’t really fit either, but it won’t stay on for long, so’ doesn’t matter.”

He gets up and hastily pulls his shirt off of his head, then, with just as much enthusiasm, pulls the black school jacket on. And he’s right—his black sweatpants could pass for the old Tobi trousers he used to wear. All in all, it’s a sight for sore eyes. Looking at him feels just short of seeing his old high-school self.

“Come on. You said.” He holds out the rendition of your old uniform. “Get dressed.”

You regret conceding. But it’s too late to go back on your word now. Rolling your eyes, you receive the hanger with a sigh, “Oh, fine. Just this once, you freak.”

You get dressed without making much of a show. Leaving your current comfy outfit in an unceremonious pile, you pull the tacky articles on hastily. Black pleated skirt and sailor blouse with a little red bow sash—there’s even a pair of knee-high socks to go with it. As a grown-up, it’s utterly humiliating having to wear it now.

But he doesn’t seem to share your discomfort. Only groaning, “Damn. There she is—my prettiest little junior~”

You ball your skirt in your fists. Glancing up at him only to look down again, fixing your gaze to the floor. Heat in your face. Mumbling, “This is weird—you look dumb.”

“Oh yeah?” his voice curls with newfound enjoyment. “Well, you don’t look a day older.”

He comes closer, and oh god—you don’t know why you���re so nervous. But fuck—you feel like your back in time—back in time when you were a sorry loser getting picked on, and he was… he was a—

“Perv,” you manage to say. Though, that’s not really the word you’d been thinking.

He chuckles, so close now that he also starts to play with the hem of your skirt. “That’s for damn sure.” Agreeing, he hums, “Only for you though. So’s fine.”

He bends down and finds your neck with his tongue and teeth—his hand traveling up under your skirt without further ado.

“Hey,” you protest, wringing his ill-fitting jacket in both fists, hauling him off. And even though it makes him look back at you like a kicked puppy, you don’t let it get to you as you scold him, “Thought we were reframing my trauma. At this rate, you’re just itching to make me relive it.”

He tries giving you one of his innocent smiles. “Oh?” His arms curl around your waist, pulling you close—chest to chest—simpering while leering down at you, voice in a purr, “It won’t be any fun if I can’t bully you a little bit like I used to.”

He tries leaning down to catch your lips, but you push him away. Breaking free, then scoffing, “Tch, if that’s how you’re gonna play this, then have fun beating off on your own.”

“But—” He starts, but you’re already on your way to leave the room. Hooking two fingers into the band of your skirt, he stops you and spins you back, now all mopey and sorry, “I’m sorry, don’t go, princess—how about we one-eighty it, and I tell you all the reasons I love you? Will that make you humor me?”

He’s back to pleading.

And you can’t help the small smile it gives you. Muttering, “Maybe.”

He smiles giddily, too, “I love how pouty you can be sometimes.”

Your brows furrow, “Hey!” That’s not a compliment.

But he only laughs and continues, “And I love your snippy little tsundere attitude.”

“Those are both insults, you tit—” you argue, but he doesn’t care, hugging you close, lifting you off your feet before falling with you down on the bed. Hanging over you, he admires every inch of your perfect body tucked into that cute little uniform he used to make fun of because he was scared of how silly you made him feel.

“I love how you tell me off.”

Deciding to face his fears was the best decision he’d ever made.

“I love how you look at me.”

It’s crazy to think you’re here with him still, after all these years.

“I love how you put up with me, how you make all my wishes come true—how, even though I don’t deserve you, you stay with me anyway—how you’re mine even though I’m a scumbag.”

You’re eyes soften under his speech. For all his tactlessness, he can also be really quite sweet. You raise both hands, reaching out to cup his face—beholding the softness in his eyes—that way he looks at you. It makes your chest stir.

“You’re not that bad,” you confess, pulling him down to tease his lips with yours.

Kissing you once, he accredits you, “That’s ‘cause you make me a better man.”

You smile and kiss him again, then resume your teasing, “Don't get ahead of yourself. You’re still a boy.”

He lifts and raises a brow down at you in retaliation, “Is that so?” And oh no, you recognize that look.

“Well, this boy is feeling hormonal and horny and just raring to go—” he overplays. Gasping, “And what do you know? How lucky!” He lowers himself again, then starts peppering kisses all over your face in between words, “I’ve got this perfect little high-school sweetheart lying here all up for the taking—”

♡ BNHA – Hawks, Dabi, Bakugou, ♡ JJK – Gojo, really silly in-love Sukuna ♡ HQ – Kuro, Atsumu ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Sanemi ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[leaawrites]

Freaked Out

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Lando makes his relationship official via Live stream

Warnings: mentions of an engagement, use of Y/n

Masterlist

The lights were low. There was no sound but the breathing in sync of two people deep into thoughts. Two hours went by of lying in the same bed with no eyes closed.

“Are you sure you want to stay with me?” Lando asked, his hand gliding through the hair of the person beside him. She hummed, snuggling deeper into his chest. Inhaling his scent like it would be the last time. “I mean, are you really sure? You can’t walk with me around all holding hands and you have to put up with all those stupid rumors about a life you know ain’t true.”

“Lando,” she mused, propping her head on her hands and looking up at him. “I’ve put up with all this for god knows how long. This doesn’t change anything.” His eyes lingered on her hand a little longer, smiling at the shimmering light reflecting on the diamond.

“Two and a half years,” he said, reminding her on how long they’ve been together. Still surprised at how long they got to keep their relationship in private, away from the media and all of those people around them.

It might seem rather fast, but nothing ever felt as right as asking her to marry him. Nothing ever made him feel so sure of himself as when she said yes. The reminder that he had someone who loved him. The knowing that someone was willing to put up with him forever. It made him feel safe.

“Are you sure you wanna keep it a secret? Keep us a secret?” Lando asked, playing with the ring on her finger.

“I’ll be yours in silence for however long you want me to,” she said, laying her head back down, soothing his chest with kisses.

Lando didn’t answer, he couldn’t. There was never a moment when he didn’t want to just post a pic of the two kissing or making put or whatever it is that will make everyone know that he was a happy man with her. But he knew it wouldn’t work that way. There will always be some crazy fans, offended at the though of him having a future with anyone but them. He felt guilty for not showing her off like he’d want to. It weighed him down day by day, though he knew it was worth it. When he came home from a race weekend and wanted nothing but held, he knew her arms would already be open as he walked through the door. She was everything he wanted. She was more than he deserved.

Being a man, chronically online, Lando knew about almost every trend going around the world. No exception for the one McLaren just posted with Oscar as their star in the spotlight.

“Hey guys,” Lando spoke into the phone as he walked into the living room of his home in Monaco. His girlfriend didn’t look up, already used to him walking around the apartment when he talked on the phone with someone. “Can you watch my girlfriend while I set my sim up?”

Lando placed the phone on the coffee table, camera facing his girlfriend who worked on something on her laptop. At the familiar sentence structure, she looked up, her head following the boy, who walked into his game room.

“What the-” she started saying, before being cut off by Lando putting his head out of the room.

“You can’t swear, I’m still a PR-nightmare, you can’t be one as well,” he yelled out to her, before disappearing again.

“Hello?” The girl said, looking at the screen in front of her. At first she thought it was a normal video, though soon enough she saw the endless comments of unknown people flood the screen. Her eyes widen at the sudden realization of what just happened. “You’re live? Are you kidding me?” She yelled at the boy, who burst out laughing in the other room. He came rushing out, snatching his phone back and reading through the comments of very surprised fans, to say the least.

“Sorry, guys. Sorry,” Lando spoke to the people, still giggling at his little prank and his girlfriends grimace. “Not my girlfriend.”

That made her look at him, a mischievous look in his eyes as he smirked, looking at her and not the screen which was filled with freaked out people. Some saying, “Good lord, thank god. I just had a heart attack, thinking he really cheated on me.” And some saying, “That’s sad, she’s really pretty.”

“My fiancee,” he corrected himself, smiling at her. The girl in front of him, couldn’t help her own smile forming on her lips. Then he ended the live, leaving the people shocked and the world stuck in questions.

“What have you done, Norris?” Y/n asked, pulling her fiance down on the sofa with her.

“I’m not hiding you anymore,” he simply said, snuggling in the nape of her neck and peppering it with small, soft kisses.

[gigi-loveless]

summary - dom!ellie x dom!reader, no plot, they’re literally fighting for dominance

warnings - all consensual! slapping, choking, wrestling, degrading

authors note - i’m so sorry this is filthy as fuck i need to go bathe in holy water, as always requests are open 🪽✨

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“make me.”

and oh how that instant regret hit as soon as your tattooed girlfriend slammed you up against the wall, photos trembling against the plaster as she wastes no time thrusting her tongue into your mouth.

how sloppy and disheveled you both already are, her grinning against your lips as you desperately flail your wrists away from where she has them pinned against the wall. so you use the one thing you know makes ellie soft.

“such a good girl….”

trailing your sentence off, ellie loosens her grip on you, sighing breathlessly. quickly, you take this perfect opportunity to escape her clutch, and yank at that perfect auburn hair of hers, bringing her gaze to you.

“you’re mine tonight, angel.”

she leers, as your confidence flounders.

“yeah? make me.”

all of the sudden, she throws you onto the bed, straddling your waist and restraining your wrists above your head with her muscular arm.

“can’t help it baby…y’jus look so pretty like this…” ellie coos, swiping her calloused finger under your chin as she latches her warm mouth to one of your pebbled nipples. lip quivering, you scan the room to find anything to free you from her grasp. it’s starting to seem like you have one option left - fight.

using all your strength, you manage to push ellie off you, as she gasps and laughs in surprise.

“ohhhh, that’s what you want, hm?” she chuckles, wiping her mouth as you pant, noticing the damp patch pooling in your panties.

suddenly she lunges at you, attempting to wrestle your way back into submission. as your thigh grazes her core though, she stops for a moment, allowing you to grab her by her throat. the poor things clawing at you, panting for your touch. just as you’re about to reward her pretty pussy…

ellie harshly strikes you across the cheek.

you touch the heated area, breathlessly soothing it down.

“oh, i’m-i’m sorry if that was too far, we can-uhm-we can stop if y-“

“strip.”

the girl silently obeys you, eyeing as you peel your clothing off as well. she settles back on the bed, awaiting your instruction.

quickly, you throw her leg over your shoulder, and guide her hand to your throat yet again. your hand also finds solace at her throat, both of you squeezing lightly.

the squelching of your heated clits kneading together is downright sinful, your wetness blending together, dripping all down your thighs. looking up at ellie, her pretty eyes rolled into the back of her head, you can’t help but gush even more at the sight. how fucked out she already looks, small red marks appearing on her pale neck around the perimeter of your fingers.

“you’re a fuckin whore.” she spits, smirking proudly to herself. “look at yourself…all dripping because i fuckin hit you…”

“y’know how fucked up that is? that you’re so soaked from that? you really are a slut aren’t you….” she ponders, scanning your eyes for an answer.

“c-could say the same about you….” you sigh, pleasure buzzing through your veins.

“m’…..m’s close….” she gurgles, as you tighten the grip on her neck, pressing the tempo of your strokes impossibly faster, her clit throbbing against yours.

with one final stroke, your high comes as well, band snapping in your stomach. the last you feel before blacking out being ellie’s tender touch guiding you to the pillow.

“so how the fuck are we supposed to pick who does aftercare?”

“uhhh….” she starts giggling. “rock paper scissor?”

“it’s rock paper scissors el….oh jesus you little freak!”

join my taglist!

@ellies2missingfingers @ellieslob

[moonstruckme]

can i request a reader who can’t admit she’s upset with one the marauders (or all)? like refuses to cry…only if you’re comfortable of course. thank you :)

Thank you for requesting gorgeous!

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

The smell of smoke coming from the kitchen is the first sign that Sirius has tipped over from resentment into remorse. 

“Jesus,” you open the front door on your way into the kitchen, eyes watering, “what are you doing?” 

“I was trying to make rice,” he says, fanning desperately over your pressure cooker, “but I think I’ve fucked it.” 

“Do you think so?” Any other day you’d both grin at the harmless snark, but now Sirius’ expression pinches and you think your own must look the same, your tone more biting than you meant for it to be. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine once it airs out. Help me with the windows?” 

Sirius acts like it’s a competition, opening three windows before you’ve finished two and looking at you like he’s expecting a pat on the head for it. You try to give him a smile, and his expression clouds over. 

“Sorry,” he says, voice not quite cool but oddly remote, “the idea was to surprise you with dinner, and I’ve broken your rice thingy instead.” 

“It’s not broken,” you reassure him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine once I clean it out. Why were you trying to make dinner?” 

Sirius grimaces. It’s a full body motion, his eyebrows hooking in the middle while the muscles in his forearms shift uncomfortably and his shoulders migrate upward. “Sort of a shitty attempt at an olive branch, I guess.” 

Some of the smoke has cleared, and you brave the kitchen. “I don’t need an olive branch,” you say. “If you say we’re good, we’re good.” 

“Don’t do that.” He follows you into the kitchen. “I can tell you’re upset, just because—” Sirius hisses when you take the bowl out of the pressure cooker, transferring it swiftly to the sink “—fuck, baby, don’t burn yourself. Let me take care of that later.” 

“I’d rather handle it now,” you say, turning on the faucet. “I’m just letting it soak anyway.” 

“I’m trying to handle this.” Sturdy hands wrap around your shoulders, turning you to face your boyfriend. He looks at you steadily. “Don’t pretend you’re not angry with me, because I know that you are.” 

A spark of annoyance tingles up your spine as you shrug, reaching behind you to turn off the faucet. “I’m not.” 

“Can you stop trying to make me feel like an idiot? I know you. You’ve been all stiff since last night.” 

“You were angry last night. Not me.” 

“Yeah, well it seems to have caught on.” 

You turn away from him and back towards the sink, swishing your hand in the cold water of the bowl to dislodge the charred rice sticking to the bottom. You don’t know where Sirius gets off, acting like you’re holding a grudge when he’s the one who shouted at you last night. Your phone had died while you were out with friends. That was all that had happened. You didn’t think anything of it, because Sirius, the only person who would really worry about not being able to reach you, knew you were out and that you’d be home late. 

But when you had gotten home, he’d been furious. Gone on and on about how he’d been trying to get a response from you all night, and how dangerous it was to get drunk when you couldn’t call anyone (nevermind that you’d been with your friends), and how freaked out he’d been. He wouldn’t listen to you. He’d only wanted to yell and rage, and make you sit in your heels on the couch while he did it. He’d even seemed like he might be tearing up a couple of times. And you hated to think of him being scared for you, but since when was it your responsibility to answer every time he called? He knew you were with your friends. You hadn’t asked him to check in on you. 

He’d gone to bed still fuming and you’d stayed on the couch rather than try to sleep in a hostile bed. Now, inexplicably, his tune seems to have changed. 

“So,” Sirius sighs, “this is you not mad, huh?” 

“Yup.” You scrub at the bowl with your fingernails. 

“I just want a chance to apologize.” 

“You can if it’ll make you feel better, but I don’t need it.” 

“Why can’t you just admit it?” 

“Because I’m not the one who gets pissy about stupid things.” You dislodge a chunk of rice and your hand slips across the bowl, splashing water onto your shirt. “That’s you.” 

There’s a second of dense, oppressive silence. When Sirius breaches it, you can hear the smirk in his voice. “There’s my girl. Tell me about the stupid things I got pissy about, would you?”

“It’s nothing.” 

“No, it’s not. It wasn’t nothing to me, and clearly it wasn’t to you either. Go on, doll.” 

“I don’t want to argue with you.” 

“Sure you do.” 

“Why do you want to fight so bad?” 

“Because,” Sirius says, and you can hear him moving behind you, can all but see him leaning against the counter, the picture of insouciance, “I think you need to get it out of your system.” 

You scrub harder at the bowl. Blackened bits of rice float to the top of the water. “Like you do?” 

A pause. His voice softens. “It’s not always a good thing. I shouldn’t have shouted at you, last night.” Something in your chest tightens painfully at this new gentle tone. “I’m sorry. I let my temper get the better of me. I was just worried about you.” 

“I don’t think that’s my fault,” you say, managing to sound mostly normal. You dump out the contents of the bowl, filling it again with warmer water. “My phone was dead, and I was with my friends. I didn’t need you to worry about me.” 

“I just do, when I know you’ve all been drinking, and I can’t talk to you to know you’re okay…” Sirius takes in a breath, breaking your heart with how it sounds like he’s trying to steady himself. “But you’re right, okay? It wasn’t fair.” 

“I didn’t know I was coming home to be shouted at.” This time, your voice betrays you, a pitchiness that makes you go quiet fast. You hear Sirius move. 

“Sweetheart?” he asks softly. There’s a touch at your elbow. “I’m sorry, baby, please look at me.” 

You don’t want to, but you don’t want your embarrassment interpreted as ire. You take a quiet breath before pivoting from the sink. Sirius’ eyes are waiting, sad and fretful as they probe at yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, impossibly quieter, and runs his fingers from your elbow up the back of your arm. “It wasn’t your fault, I wasn’t being fair. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.” 

You press your lips together, hard. His eyebrows hook up in the middle. 

“You can cry, sweet thing. It’s okay.” You shake your head mutely, blinking, and Sirius makes a terribly lovely cooing sound, snaking an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You hug him back as the first hot tear rolls down your cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Your shoulders jump with a stilted, poorly repressed sob, his grip on you tightening. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby. My temper tantrum really did a number on you, huh?” 

You laugh wetly. “Guess so,” you squeak. “Sorry.” 

“If you apologize for this, I may shout at you again,” he warns fondly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, lovely girl. Just let it out, if you need to.” 

You know that’s not easy for Sirius to say. Know he’s likely close to tears himself, from how agitated seeing other people cry makes him. You appreciate the offer. 

You fall into a silence less heavy than any that’s suffocated your home since last night, broken up only by the steady, quiet thumping of Sirius patting your back and the intermittent smooching sounds as he kisses your shoulder or your cheek or the side of your neck. You stand still in your smoky kitchen, wetting your boyfriend’s shoulder with tears and snot, and he lets you.

[yandere-daydreams]

file #2: the amputation fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!gojo satoru x reader (jjk).

length: 2.9k.

warnings: non/con, amputation, unhealthy relationships, abusive relationships, obsessive behavior, amputation (no injury to reader in fic), handjobs, masturbation, and unbalanced power dynamics.

“Babydoll? You wanna let me in?”

A beat of silence, a light knock. You stayed where you were, crumpled on the bathroom floor, and Satoru sighed.

“C’mon, angel. I can’t help from all the way out here.”

You clenched your bloody arm closer, pulling your knees up to your chest. An orange-tinted, half-emptied pill container sat lidless and on its side next to you. Shoko’s pills took care of the worst of the pain, but a steady, persistent throbbing had lodged itself in the knob that used to be your wrist and refused to let-up. It probably wouldn’t for the next hour, if not the next day.

“I can’t take you to see Shoko if you keep me locked out.”

At that, you relented, uncurling with from your self-made bundle. It took a second to shift yourself onto your knees, another to find the doorknob with your remaining hand, but Satoru himself in as soon as the lock clicked out of place. Thankfully, mercifully, he gave you time to skitter back to your corner before crossing the threshold, but that didn’t stop you from withering as his eyes raked over you, as he evaluated the damage. Eventually, he collapsed against the adjacent wall and sunk to the floor, letting out a raspy groan before tossing you a familiar, crooked smile. You didn’t return it. “That mad at me, huh?” You didn’t respond, gaze dropping to your decimated hand – or, rather, the mangled stump that used to be your hand. His smile wavered, but didn’t fall away. “Yeah, no, I probably deserve that. Does it hurt?”

You didn’t indulge him with an answer. “Did you call Shoko?”

“On a mission,” he said with a slight shrug, a strong note of ‘what can you do?’ in his tone. Like this was some minor inconvenience, annoying but ultimately trivial. Like like you weren’t missing an essential part of yourself. “She said she’d swing by as soon as she’s done, but I’d give it another hour. I think she’ll kill me if I keep asking her to make house calls.”

Another beat of silence, another deafening failure to respond on your part. Finally, he turned to face you properly, leaning forward. “…can I?”

He always did this – paused like that, smiled like that, tried to make himself seem so gentle, so loving, so considerate. It might’ve been well-meaning, an attempt to let you know he was sorry without having to swallow enough of his pride to actually apologize, but all it ever seemed to make you feel was cold and alone, stuck in a shell of an apartment with a shell of a man. It was always the same. It was always going to be the fucking same.

And, like always, you relented, looking away as you nodded stiltedly. Satoru’s smile brightened as he closed the distance between you, his thigh pressing into yours as he settled against your side.

When you’d first gotten into a relationship with Gojo Satoru, you told yourself that if things ever so much as seemed like they might be going south, you were gone. You hadn’t known anything about cursed energy or sorcerer hierarchies or malevolent spirits, but you didn’t have to – even if you hadn’t watched him obliterate monsters the size of apartment buildings with a snap of his fingers, he still would’ve been the strongest person you’d ever met, a man capable of shattering bones with his bare hands and breaking open skulls with all the effort it would’ve taken you to swat a fly out of the air. He was dangerous to be around, even if you doubted Satoru could ever intentionally hurt another living, breathing person. He was rich, and pretty, and strong, and used to getting his way. You loved him, but you needed to be able to leave if it ever seemed like that love was going to put you in danger.

And you did leave. The first time you argued, the first time he lost control of his temper and you were left sobbing on the floor with nothing below your left knee, you’d gotten as far as you could as quickly as you could. It’d taken him a full week to track you down, another to convince you that one of his bizarre friends could heal you, and roughly half a minute of Satoru sobbing and clinging to your (newly restored) leg for you to forgive him, to write it off as an accident – just the kind of risk you took when you got into a relationship with someone who could deadlift armored tanks. The second, you’d stayed at a friend’s place for a few days before coming back on your own, as desperate for his miracle-cure as you were for the pet comforts that came with Satoru’s bottomless fortune. The fourth, you’d barricaded yourself in his bedroom for sixteen hours and only come out for Shoko, who’d muttered about your ‘wreck of a boyfriend’ as she rebuilt the three missing fingers on your right hand.

Now, on the ninth, you’d barely managed to keep him locked out of a bathroom for all of five minutes. It was embarrassing, more than anything. You wanted to be able to hate him, you wanted to be scared of him, but it was hard to be scared of someone you loved. Someone you loved as much as Satoru, especially.

You shook your head, dragging yourself out of your own spiraling thoughts. Your attention, instead, moved to Satoru – still slumped against the tiled wall, his head lulled back and his attention focused pointedly on the ceiling. You were dressed to go out, uncomfortable jeans and all, but Satoru looked like he just rolled out of bed – a plain white shirt pulled tight over his broad chest, a pair of pitch-black sweatpants falling low on his waist, the lights dim enough to mean his piercing blue eyes didn’t have to be locked behind tinted glass or thick fabric. That was what you’d been arguing about, even if it was hard to remember why it’d seemed like such a big deal. He had the day off, no class and no cursed spirits to slaughter, and wanted to waste his morning in bed, with you wrapped in his arms. You’d tried to tell him, as slowly and as tenderly as you could, that you couldn’t, that you had an important early-morning lecture, that you’d be back by the time he actually wanted to get up, but he’d whined and pouted and you’d lost your patience when he reminded you that you could ‘always drop out’. You tried to leave, and he tried to catch your hand, to make you stay for that much longer, and—

“Can I see it?” You were almost thankful to hear his voice, if only for the distraction. “Your hand, I mean. If you’re comfortable with showing me.”

You weren’t, but you were desperate not to sink back into your own head, either. Slowly, cautiously, you shuffled that much closer to him, folding your legs underneath you as you gingerly held out the arm you’d spent the better part of the last few minutes cradling. It made you sick to look at a part of your own body so violently distorted, so violently wrong, so you didn’t – keeping your focus trained on your knees as Satoru took up your shortened limb. His own healing abilities had taken care of the worst of the gore, but even with the open, gaping wound at the end of your arm closed, there was still a ring of bruising around your wrist, streaks of dried blood running down the length of your forearm, a raw quality to the skin where his hap-hazard repairs hadn’t quite taken. His touch was feather-light, skirting around the worst of the remaining damage and lingering near your elbow, then your bicep. Acknowledgement came in the form of a low whistle, an airy sigh. You tried not to let his casualness get to you. Sorcerers must’ve seen injuries like this all the time. This was the end of the world for you, but Satoru would be just fine. “I’m not going to let you lift a finger after this. You know that, right? I’ve gotta make sure my pretty baby’s still nice n’ spoiled, even when I go and fuck everything up.”

It wasn’t an apology, but it was as close as he’d ever get. You grit your teeth and nodded, taking a second to find your voice. Even with the delay, it came out as a croak; almost too low and too ragged to be coherent. “This can’t keep happening, ‘toru. I love you, but this can’t keep happening.”

“I know, baby, I know.” One of his hands remained wrapped around your arm while the other, unoccupied, fell between his open legs. “I don’t mean to. If I had it my way, nobody would be able to touch you, but…” A pause, a laugh. “I just get so stressed out when we start fighting, like that. All I can think about is someone hurting you when I’m not there to keep you safe, and I forget how delicate I’ve gotta be with you. It feels like I’m not in control of myself.”

Despite your better judgement, you felt a deep, churning well of guilt open up inside of you. It was your turn to sigh, now, to slump, to let your eyes fall shut. “I love you,” you repeated, like it was the only thing you knew how to say. “It’s just— It scares me, when you get like that. I know you’re just trying to be protective, but it hurts.”

You heard his breathing pick-up, his grip tighten ever so slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel. “I know, sweetheart. I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“You do take care of me, but—” You were cut off by a breathy swear, a throat groan. Momentarily, your fear and self-loathing gave way to irritation, a frown tugging at the corner of your lips as you opened your eyes and snapped towards Satoru. He was still focused on your arm – what was left of it, at least – but his gaze was glazed over, far away, and his hand was moving between his—

You put it together too quickly, the force of the realization leaving no time for numbing shock or dampening confusion. He was touching himself, grinding the heel of his palm into the base of his cock. You could see the outline of his shaft against the dark material – already half-hard, if not worse.

If you’d been able to feel anything, you might’ve felt sick.

Reflexively, you tried to pull away from him, but his hold on your arm only tightened, fingertips digging into your bicep as Satoru laughed, the sound strained and airy. “Sorry, sorry, my bad. I know you like a head’s up, but…” Now, he looked at you, but it was too late, too much, too sudden. All you could seem to think to do was gape back at him, unmoving and unthinking. “Guess it’s just what you do to me. I’ll try to make it quick – all you’ve gotta do is sit there and look pretty.”

It was a familiar line, a familiar excuse. You’d heard it a thousand times – mumbled into your neck as draped himself over you in the early hours of the morning, spouted off as he dragged you back to his car halfway through dinner at a restaurant you’d been looking forward to visiting for months – but it didn’t seem to make sense, this time, didn’t fit with the image of your missing hand hovering a few inches above your loving boyfriend’s erection. The dissonance only seemed to get worse, more dizzying as he shrugged the waistband of his sweats past his hips and down to his thighs, freeing his stiff cock. You’d been too generous, before; he was already hard, his tip flushed a dark pink and leaking thick beads of arousal. Again, you tried to get away, and again, he only pulled you closer, until your side was flush against his. There was a deep grunt, a hazy grin as he wrapped a fist around the shaft of his cock, his grip almost painfully tight. His eyes never left the dull stump on the end of your left arm, his raspy breathing soon turning to a deep, heady panting as you watched him pump his fist over his cock, his pace slow and methodical – a far cry from the spontaneous, erratic Satoru you were used to. A soft voice in the back of your mind, awful and treacherous, suggested that he might be trying to savor it, and a dozen more screamed loudly enough to drown it out.

“Satoru,” you said, nearly surprising yourself with how distant you sounded, how detached. You didn’t feel detached. If anything, you almost felt too grounded in the feeling of cool tile against your back, the heat of his body where it pressed into yours. “Please, stop.”

“I don’t really have a choice, babe.” He shot you a playful grin, and for a second, you could almost imagine hating him. “It’d go a lot faster if you helped me out, though.”

You didn’t answer, but he didn’t need you to. His hand was already groping for yours, already forcing your reluctant participation. The position was awkward, your body half-bent over his, but when you shifted, Satoru’s thumb dug into the bone of your wrist and instantly, you went still. This was bad. Not having control of your only remaining hand was bad. But having your only remaining hand taken away from you would be worse.

Satoru didn’t seem to see it that way. Sounds of aching pleasure bubbled past his lips shamelessly, turning the abruptly claustrophobic bathroom into an echo chamber of pitchy whines and raspy groans and the slick, wet clicks of his cock fucking into your balled fist. It was terrible – being able to feel how his cock pulsed against your palm, being forced to acknowledge the little, stilted movements of his hips whenever he decided your (admittedly lackluster) pace left something to be desired. In less than a minute, his head had lulled onto your shoulder, his voice muffled by the proximity as he struggled to speak in spite of his own unabashed moaning. “Love you so much,” he half-mumbled, half-panted. You could feel his breath against your shoulder, his drool starting to pool just above your collarbone. “W-wanna take care of you when you can’t take care of yourself, make sure nobody else ever gets to put their hands on you. I’d be good – cook for you, n’ shower with you, ‘n dress you up all nice n’ pretty,” He paused, nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “You… You wouldn’t hate me that much if we left it that way, right?”

You felt something drop into the pit of your stomach. “Satoru, you’re—”

“Please, baby.” It was the same tone he used when he was begging you to make a late-night snack run with him, or when he wanted to finish inside of you without protection. “Just—Just tell me that you’d let me take care of you. Just say that you’d still love me.”

It felt like your throat was swollen shut, your chest stuffed to bursting with shattered glass and razor blades and spiny needles only just beginning to poke through your skin. You didn’t want to say anything, you didn’t think you could say anything, and yet, when your mouth fell open, you found a voice that was not your own seeping out by means beyond your control. “It’s alright,” you muttered, distantly, as his cock throbbed in your hand. “I’d still love you, ‘toru.”

Although, you were starting to wish you wouldn’t.

You heard him groan, felt something thick and searing spill over the back of your hand. Satoru’s hand, cupped snuggly over yours, kept you moving until every last drop had been milked out of him, until the final ember of his climax had burnt itself out. He went limp against you, his vice-grip finally falling away, but rather than run, you only straightened, wiping your hand on your jeans before tucking it into your lap. How you looked didn’t matter, anymore.  There couldn’t have been more than a few minutes left in your lecture, if you hadn’t already missed it entirely.

Silence interrupted only by panting breaths and the beating, drowning drum playing in your ears reigned over the confined space, keeping you in a state of bleary stasis until the sound of a sharp knock, shortly followed by a distant door opening broke through the fog. “That’s Shoko,” Satoru murmured, almost disappointed. He started to separate himself from you, only to relapse – burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting out a deep, contented sigh. “You know that I love you, right?”

“I know.”

“And you know that all I wanna do is keep you happy?”

“I know, ‘toru.”

“Good.” He pulled back, grinning. “’cause all I ever wanna do is take care of my angel. Don’t let anything ‘side from that get into your pretty little head.”

You only nodded as he pushed himself to his feet, as he slipped out of the bathroom to meet Shoko, to explain what vital part of yourself he’d torn away this time. You wanted to get up, to wash the cum off of your hand, to pump feeling back into your numb legs, but your remaining limbs were uncooperative, heavy and awkward and useless. It was all you could do to pull your knees up to your chest, wrap your arms around your legs, and hold yourself as you started to cry.

At least, next time Satoru decided to tear you apart, you might not find it so hard to hate him for it.

[joelscoffeemachine]

Forget

Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: 5.4k

Summary: After waking up from what felt like the best night ever, you wanted to figure out what Joel’s thoughts about what was going on, were.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, Joel acting like a total jerk, language, unprotected piv, pet names, reader uses feminine pronouns, jackson era!Joel, slight fluff towards the end, arguing, angst, no use of Y/N, apologies if anything was missed.

please read A/N: guys, i tried so freaking hard to like this, but i just can’t. so, i am so sorry if you feel the same way as me. i really tried my hardest. i’m not sure if i want this to be the last part, but i can kinda feel it going towards that route, so im going to say this once, thank you so much for all the support for this mini series. i couldn’t be more grateful. thank you. and once again, i am so fucking sorry if you don’t like this. please don’t hate me. 🤗 oh, and also, ntm on the photos not matching, honestly could careless ab the damn photos.

part one part two

Joel couldn’t get a wink of sleep last night, the feeling of you being so close to him, in his arms, feeling your warm body against his, having your scent fill his nose, all of it was too much.

Every time he closed his eyes, memories of your shared night and the warmth of your touch would flood his mind, making his heart race. The moonlight filtering through the curtains enveloped a soft glow on your face, making you look even more serene and beautiful, which only added to his restless thoughts.

He laid there for a couple more hours, listening to your breathing, the way you’d mutter in your sleep, the little sounds that would escape you. Each breath you took seemed to synchronize with his heartbeat, creating a rhythm that was both comforting and unsettling. But he knew he had to leave. He knew he couldn’t stay because what was this?

What were you two?

The uncertainty gnawed at him, and the fear of crossing a line that could change everything between you both was overwhelming.

So, he eventually slid out of your bed, picking up his clothes and getting dressed. He moved quietly, trying not to wake you, stealing one last glance at your peaceful face before slipping out the door.

As he walked away, the cool night air hit him, a slight contrast to the warmth he had just left behind. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, but he knew he needed to figure out what this meant for both of you.

—

You blinked your eyes open, the sun shining through the crack of your curtains into your room. The sheets of your bed hugged your body perfectly, stretching your arms out with a yawn.

You expected to feel a big and warm body, but you didn’t.

You just felt the ruffled-up blanket. The familiar warmth and comfort were missing, replaced by a cold emptiness that made you shiver slightly.

You turned your body, nothing. No one. He left. You glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table, the bright red numbers glaring at you.

With it being the ass crack of dawn, you’d be expecting him to be waking up now.

Did he leave last night? You asked him to stay.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and a wave of disappointment washed over you. You replayed the moments of the previous night in your head, trying to understand why he would leave without a word.

You sat up, confusion taking over your features. For some odd reason, your heart felt heavy. You wanted him to be there when you woke up. You needed him too because now that he wasn’t, was it even real?

The questions swirled in your mind, each one adding to the ache in your chest. The silence of the room seemed to echo the emptiness you felt inside.

You stood up, not bothering to put on the old bra and shirt from last night, turning the shower on as you pulled your panties off, hopping in. The warm water cascaded over you, but it did little to wash away the sense of loss and confusion. You hoped the shower would clear your mind, letting the water run down your face.

But it didn’t.

The shower didn’t work. You couldn’t get the situation off your mind. You couldn’t get him off your mind. It couldn’t have been real, but the faint memory of him running his rough fingers down your skin, the way he felt inside of you, stayed in your mind. The sensation was so vivid, it was almost as if you could still feel his touch, haunting you with every passing second.

You needed to see him. To talk to him. You prayed he wasn't anywhere but his house. The first place you could expect him to be was his house. So, you found yourself there. The walk to his place felt like an eternity, each step heavy with anticipation. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached his door.

Softly banging on the door, no answer. Peeking through the window, no sight.

“Fucking Joel.” You whisper breathily. How fucking surprising was that. Joel Miller finally left his house.

For a second there your heart dropped, praying that he didn’t get patrol duty.

Goddamn it. I mean you could wait, but you didn’t want to.

You didn’t want to go back home, so you didn’t, knuckles bruising as you hit them against the door. The pain shot through your hand, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil inside you. Still no fucking answer. You stepped back and glanced up at the house, looking for a way to get in.

No way in from the front, window was shut tightly, curtains drawn as if to shut out the world.

So, like any sane person who was looking for a — friend, you walked towards the back to maybe get in from the patio door. But that’s when you heard it.

Sweet music, fingers strumming away at the strings from what sounds like a guitar, and sweet, and quiet humming. The melody was hauntingly beautiful, calming to the chaos in your mind.

You poked your head around the corner, Joel sitting in a plastic, white chair, guitar in hands. He nodded his head softly as he felt the music, eyes closed, and body relaxed with a cup of coffee on the small table next to him.

The steam from the coffee rose in gentle spirals, mingling with the early morning mist.

His foot tapped lightly in rhythm with the music, completely unaware of your presence.

You felt stupid. You almost broke into his fucking house all because he was unable to hear the damn knocking.

You slowly stepped onto the wood, your sneakers making a loud noise that made Joel stop playing. The sound echoed in the stillness, shattering the tranquility.

He looked you up and down, setting his guitar down with no words spoken. The silence between you hung heavy, like a thick fog that neither of you could see through.

Joel's eyes, usually so full of warmth, seemed distant as they locked onto yours. The early morning sun cast long shadows, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of dew and freshly cut grass. You could hear the faint rustling of leaves in the background, the weight of unspoken words pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.

You let out a quiet ‘hey’, smile slightly upside down as you leaned on the railing of the patio. Your eyes were basically inviting him over, so he obliged, grabbing his coffee, and standing beside you, a gap in between.

It was pretty much awkward. It was clear he didn’t forget about the activities from last night.

“I’ve been knocking.” Your voice breaking the silence, looking at him, but he avoided your gaze.

“I’ve been here all mornin’, didn’t hear it.”

"Something on your mind?" You knew exactly what was on his mind, but you thought, if you pushed it, maybe this moment wouldn’t be so goddamn awkward.

Each second of silence stretching longer than the last.

"Nothin’ on my mind," he replied, lifting the cup up to his lips, taking a light sip.

The steam from his coffee curled up into the air, mingling with the tension that seemed almost palpable between you. His eyes, though momentarily hidden behind the rim of the cup, betrayed his true thoughts.

His eyes, dark and guarded, flickered over to you. There was a heaviness in his gaze, a storm of unsaid words and pent-up emotions swirling just beneath the surface.

His expression unreadable, before letting out a quiet, almost resigned sigh. The sound was barely audible, yet it echoed in the stillness, amplifying the tension that crackled in the air like static electricity.

He wanted you to say something. He wanted you to just be honest and tell him exactly how you felt about last night, why you were there, if you even remotely felt what he did.

Instead, you were both standing there, avoiding each other’s gazes like idiots.

Your heart raced; each beat a reminder of the words you were too afraid to speak. His sigh lingered in the air, a silent plea for you to break the cycle, to reach out and bridge the gap that seemed to widen with every passing moment.

"You gonna invite me in, or are you just gonna stand there?" You point lazily at the door.

Joel huffed a laugh, tilting his head slightly as he finally looked at you. “You’re being pushy today, ain’t ya?”

He was being a smartass, and he knew it, but it was his way of deflecting whatever the hell happened last night, and the way you were acting this morning.

The gesture is casual, almost dismissive, but your heart is going crazy. The morning sun filters through the trees, putting a warm glow on the porch where you both stand. His eyes flicker to the door and then back to you, a moment of hesitation that feels like an eternity.

His eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and challenge, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a smirk that was all too familiar. The morning light radiating a golden halo around his figure, highlighting the lines of tension in his posture that belied his casual tone.

His eyes never left yours, a silent dare for you to cross the threshold and face whatever lay beyond.

As you stood there, you knew that stepping through that door meant more than just entering his home—it meant confronting the emotions and the history that had brought you to this moment.

He shifts his weight, the creak of the wooden floorboards echoing in the quiet day.

He finally turned away from the railing, his movements deliberate and measured, as if each step was a calculated effort to maintain his composure.

He held the door open for you with his empty hand, the gesture both an invitation and a challenge.

You looked around at the nicely decorated house as you stepped into the kitchen, Joel close behind you.

The place was immaculate, with tasteful decor that felt both homey and sophisticated. You leaned against the marble island, the cool surface grounding you as you watched his every move. He stood in front of you, his presence filling the room in a way that made it hard to breathe.

“Why didn’t you stay?” you asked, your voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

You wanted to know so badly that you basically said, ‘fuck the small talk, tell me why.’ You were so straightforward, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them.

Joel’s face remained impassive, his expression a mask of cold-stone indifference. His arms were crossed over his chest, a defensive posture that only added to the distance between you. His eyes, usually so expressive, were unreadable, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d ever get through to him. The tension in the room was evident, a silent battle of wills as you waited for him to break the silence.

He took a moment as he leaned on the counter, taking in your words. He wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to answer.

A part of him, a huge part of him, did want to stay. He wanted to hold your warm body, bask in your sleepy scent, and hear your soft breath hit his neck. But he knew he couldn’t.

He didn’t know what last night was. Why you let him come to you, why you let him touch you the way he wanted to for so long.

"Well?" You push, head tilting, your gaze unwavering.

The intensity in your eyes matched the urgency in your voice, demanding a response from him.

"I don’t know. Okay? I don’t know." He finally let out, throwing his hands up, frustration settling on his face.

The rawness in his voice cut through the air, his eyes burning with a mix of confusion and helplessness.

You threw your head back at his answer, arms falling to your side as you turned around, elbows on the counter, holding your head up as you groaned. The cool surface of the counter did little to soothe the storm inside you. You felt the frustration bubbling over, the unanswered questions and the emotional tumult taking their toll.

He was frustrated for a number of reasons. Mainly because he had no idea how to act in front of you now. The lines between you had blurred, and he was grappling with the new reality, unsure of where he stood. But most of all, because you wanted an explanation for something he didn’t even understand himself.

"What is this?" He questioned, looking up at you, his arms crossed against his chest. His voice was edged with exasperation.

"You just come over here to get on my ass?" His words hung in the air, a challenge and a plea wrapped into one, as he tried to make sense of the chaotic emotions twirling around both of you.

You leaned up instantly, your body closer to his. The heat of his breath mingled with yours, creating an almost suffocating intimacy. Your eyes locked onto his, searching for a glimmer of understanding, something to bridge the chasm between you.

"No, I came here so I could understand you. But that’s never happening, is it?" Your voice was low, but the intensity of your words cut through the silence like a knife.

You could feel the tension radiating off him, the anger and disbelief that mirrored your own. The proximity made it impossible to ignore the raw emotions.

“Not when you’re acting like this.” He muttered, his voice strained, barely above a whisper.

The words were a thin veil over the tumultuous emotions roiling just beneath the surface, a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of control in a situation that felt increasingly out of hand.

Your bodies touched as you leaned closer, he was basically pressed up against you as you looked up at him, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, creating an electric tension that was impossible to ignore.

He tried to keep his composure. He tried to not look at you like some piece of meat. He tried not to think about how close you were, how he could easily shove you down on this counter, or up against a wall. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts, the struggle to maintain control evident in the tightness of his jaw and the flicker in his eyes.

But you weren’t making it easy. The intensity of your gaze, the proximity, the noticeable tension—it all made it nearly impossible for him to think straight.

At this point, this man was just stressing you out. You came to the conclusion that he was just trying to forget whatever happened last night, just like you tried forgetting what happened in the stables, but now you’re glad you didn’t, but for what? Look how he’s acting now.

“Joel, you’re really just gonna act like last night meant nothing? You’re just going to move on with life after that?” Your voice was sharp, each word laced with the hurt and confusion you felt.

Your words struck him like a damn brick. Because yes, that is what he was going to do. He was just going to act like last night wasn’t the best goddamn night of his life.

“That’s what you did.” He remarked, his tone cold and detached.

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the accusation clear.

He was right.

But you were standing right in front of him, and he could still hear the way you were moaning his name, a sound that echoed in his mind, driving him crazy.

He could still taste your lips, the sweetness lingering on his tongue, a reminder of the passion you shared. He could still smell you on him, your scent enveloping him, making it impossible to forget even if he tried.

You had no idea what to say. You weren’t going to deny it, because you do remember pushing him away, remember drinking to forget. All you could do was go along with it, even though it was going to hurt.

“Fine—“ Your voice cracked, strangled back deep in your throat. You cleared it as you spoke again. “It never happened. None of it.”

The words felt like knives in your mouth, each one cutting deeper into the fragile remnants of what you both shared. You could feel the weight of the silence that followed, a suffocating blanket that threatened to choke the last bit of resolve you had left. His eyes bore into yours, searching for a sign, any indication that you didn’t mean what you said.

But he wants to forget so fucking badly. Maybe you do too. Or maybe it’s meant to be this way.

Joel isn’t supposed to be knee-deep in your pussy. He’s supposed to be your best friend’s husband’s brother. Nothing else. It’s so simple.

Just forget. Just let it be like how it was before that day in the stables.

So, so, so, so simple.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

But you both knew it was all bullshit. He wasn’t the same man after he got a taste of you. And by the look you kept giving him, you weren’t the same either.

It’ll be forgotten. For now, at least. He won’t look at you with hungry eyes, you won’t look at him with a hopeful look.

“You should probably get going.” He muttered.

His voice was barely above a whisper, the words heavy with unspoken regret. The tension a suffocating fog that clung to every breath you took.

“Yeah.” You say quietly. You gathered yourself up, leading yourself to the front door with Joel behind you once again. None of this felt real. You felt like you were floating on your way to the door, your hands clasped together to avoid them shaking, your breath shortened.

As you turned to leave, the memories of that day in the stables flooded your mind—the way his hands had felt on your skin, the way his breath had mingled with yours. It had been a moment of raw, unfiltered passion, a moment that had changed everything.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the finality of his words. You forced yourself to nod, swallowing the lump in your throat.

You reached the door and paused, your hand hovering over the handle. You wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence, but the words wouldn’t come—

You can’t fucking do this.

You spun back so fast; Joel couldn’t even react. Your lips caught his, arms wrapping around his neck as he eased in closer to you. His initial surprise quickly melted away, and he returned the kiss with a fervor that matched your own. The world outside ceased to exist; it was just the two of you in that moment, lost in a whirlwind of pent-up emotions.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him. The kiss deepened, becoming more desperate and passionate, a silent conversation of everything you both had been holding back.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his heartbeat syncing with yours in a chaotic rhythm.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, his forehead rested against yours. His eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty.

“What are we doing?” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

You didn’t have an answer, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. You both knew that whatever came next, it would be something you’d face together.

He shouldn’t give in, he really shouldn’t. He should push you away and make you leave.

But then he pulled you in again.

His hands were gripping you, and he was melting into the kiss. His self-respect was crumbling with every passing second, the warmth of your body against his breaking down his defenses.

He wanted this. More than he could admit, even to himself.

The taste of your lips, the feel of your body so close to his, it was overwhelming. He surrendered to the moment. All the reasons why this was a bad idea faded away, leaving only the undeniable truth that he wanted you, needed you, in that moment more than anything else.

You quickly pulled the brown t-shirt off from his body, hands instantly gliding down the skin. His muscles tensed under your touch, sending shivers through his body.

He stumbled to the living room, lips still together, throwing himself on the couch. You slid your white top off before sitting on his lap, his semi-hard cock that hid in his pants, pressing up against your clothed entrance in the best way, causing a delicious friction that made you both gasp.

He moved his fingers to unclasp your bra, the fabric falling away with ease. Finally, pulling away, his eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you, he lent kisses to both your nipples, his mouth warm and wet against your sensitive skin. He then moved to suck and bite at the tender skin on your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

Your breath was ragged, hands in his hair, pulling his head closer, needing more of his touch.

“G-God.” You whimpered, furrowing your eyebrows from the pleasure.

The sensations were too much, each touch, each kiss sending waves of ecstasy through your body. His name escaped your lips like a prayer, a desperate plea for more, as you felt yourself getting lost in the intensity of the moment.

He could hardly keep up.

His head was spinning from the taste of you, from the way you felt in his arms. From the noises you were making as he gently bit around your chest, the soft whimpers and gasps that drove him wild. He was trying his best not to just rip the rest of your clothes off and fuck you on the couch like some sex toy. But he somehow managed to maintain a certain level of patience, his grip on control tenuous at best.

He pressed kisses up your neck, breathing hot air into your skin, each exhale sending shivers down your spine.

“I swear, you’re gonna be the damn death of me,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

His hands roamed your body, tracing every curve, every line, as if trying to memorize the feel of you. The tension between you was electric, each touch, each kiss heightening the anticipation, the need for more.

You let out a breathy chuckle, body shuddering. You reached your hands in between both of your bodies, fingers working on unzipping his fly. When you finally got it, he lifted your body up, pants pushed down just above his knees.

His weeping tip grazed over your belly button, pre-cum rolling down onto his thighs, glistening in the dim light.

You stood up for a moment, easily taking your pants off, along with your panties, and throwing them on the coffee table. The grunt that left his mouth when you let your hole slide down his member made you feel like you were about to cum already.

He felt so good, stretching you perfectly, filling you in a way that made your toes curl.

You let yourself get adjusted, but you could tell, by the look on his face, and the way his hands bruised your hips, he wanted you to move. His eyes were dark with lust, breaths coming in ragged gasps. His grip on your hips was almost painful, but it only added to the intensity of the moment. The need in his eyes mirrored your own, a silent plea for you to give in, to let the pleasure take over.

He was trying so desperately to keep control. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to just let this happen. He was so firm on his decision to forget about whatever happened between you both. Then you came in here, and just turned his world upside down and now here he was, cock throbbing inside your tight cunt.

You began bouncing, hands gripping his shoulders for support.

“Christ,” he moaned, head nuzzling into your neck to plant kisses all over.

Your eyes focused on the bookshelf behind the couch, somehow reading every title of the books. Joel’s hand rested on the back of your neck, the other flat on your back.

“You’re doing so good, darlin’.”

“Joel….” you whined.

Jesus, what the hell were you doing? This isn’t forgetting; matter of fact, this is making it so much worse. But you couldn’t stop. No way in hell. You just kept riding, sweat starting to glisten off of your soft skin.

Joel noticed your bouncing and grinding getting sloppy, grasping your hips so he could help.

Your body completely gave out, so tired, but his cock hit your G-spot perfectly, making you moan in his ear as loud as you could.

“I got you, baby,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm against the chaos of your thoughts.

His hands guided your movements, each thrust precise, driving you closer to the edge. The room was filled with the sound of your shared breaths, the slap of skin against skin, and the overwhelming furosity of your connection.

Joel’s kisses became more urgent, trailing down your neck to your collarbone, each one leaving a burning imprint on your skin. His grip on your hips tightened, steadying you as he thrust deeper, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks as you tried to hold on to the last shreds of your sanity.

Every movement, every touch, was a testament to the unspoken emotions swirling between you. The room seemed to close in around you, the world outside fading into oblivion as you both lost yourselves in the moment. Your breaths synchronized, a dance of desperation and desire, building to an inevitable crescendo.

“Joel, please…” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything you couldn’t say.

He responded with a growl, his pace quickening, pushing you both to the brink. The tension coiled inside you, tighter and tighter.

Until it snapped, your hips in sync with his as your orgasm washed over the both of you, the feeling of his warm cum inside of you making your heart pound. You start working on catching your breath as he pumps his cum into you, throwing his head back with strangled groans.

You kissed his jaw, slicking his damp hair back with your hand.

He looked so good like this.

You rested your head against his chest, finally catching your cool. Not a word was spoken by him, so you decided to speak up.

You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, a steady rhythm that mirrored the tumultuous feelings inside you.

“I don’t want to forget.”

You moved your head to look at him, your hand on the back of his head, forcing him to look back at you. His eyes, filled with a mix of exhaustion and raw emotion, met yours.

Joel’s hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

“I don’t either, sweetheart.” he finally whispered, his voice hoarse.

The vulnerability in his eyes was familiar, a mirror to your own. This wasn’t just physical; it was something deeper, something that neither of you could deny anymore.

The room felt smaller, more intimate, as if the walls themselves were bearing witness to this moment of truth.

You both knew that this was a turning point, a moment that would define whatever came next. Your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer until your foreheads touched, breaths mingling in the space between you.

“Then let’s not,” you murmured, the words a promise and a plea.

Joel’s lips found yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, sealing the unspoken agreement. In that moment, everything else faded away, leaving just the two of you, bound together by the intensity of your connection and the uncharted future that lay ahead.

“Okay.” he murmured.

[hysteria-things]

OMG OMG I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA !!

So like what if the reader is one of the ghosts that lived in the hotel and they take an interest in matt(im convinced that all of the ghosts there were matt girls) and the ghost liked how he talks and they show themselves to him and like y'kkow y'knownsmut and thid and that

so like reader reveals ehat she looks like to him and they get all freaky

GHOST (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt runs into a girl at the driskill hotel. he can’t explain it, but he feels immediately attracted to her somehow.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, making out, p in v

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 943

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i changed it up a smidge!

for @skadltmf :)

the long-awaited sam and colby x sturniolo triplets collab is in full swing at the driskill hotel in austin, texas.

the five of them were in the vault for a while and then walked around, but now they’re on a break from filming for an hour or two because they wanted to get something to eat.

“shit, i’m so sorry!” you apologize when you run into a boy who’s throwing something out.

he smiles down at you, shaking his head. “it’s all good.”

matt furrows his eyebrows when he sees you. he can’t explain it, but it feels like he’s being pushed toward you somehow. like a gravitational pull, despite never seeing you before.

“what’re you doing at the haunted driskill hotel?” you ask, wanting to spark up a conversation. you must admit, he’s a cutie, and you love the way he talks.

he crosses his arms. “i should ask you the same thing.”

you sigh. “touché. i’ve heard a lot about this place and wanted to see it with my own eyes. research, if you will.”

“ah.” he nods, still smiling. “i’m a youtuber. doing a collab right now.” he points behind him where the others are.

matt’s still freaked out. he’s just so attracted to you. there’s something about your presence that has him not wanting to leave your side.

he feels sympathetic to you. he feels like he wants to keep you safe at all times. he’s never one to start talking to a stranger, but for some reason, he has no problem mingling with you.

“what’s your name?”

“y/n l/n.” you bite your lip, caressing his shoulder flirtatiously. “you’re handsome, you know that?”

bold. he thinks.

“i-i’m matt.” he stammers, cheeks flushing at each movement you make.

your hand trails up to his hair right above his ear, and you play with it while looking deep into his eyes. he leans into your hand. “there’s a janitor’s closet over there.” you tilt your head. “will i see you in there?”

you wink, walking off in the opposite direction. he glances at you and then the group, taking out his phone to text chris.

i forgot something in the room, i’ll be back in a few.

waiting patiently in the small closet, the door opens minutes later. you smile widely, admiring the boy in front of you.

“for some reason, i need to kiss you.” he says abruptly out of breath. “can i kiss you?”

you exhale, snaking your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss that soon turns into a make-out.

his hands roam your body, lastly going to your pants before he pulls away. “um… is this okay?”

“more than okay,” you say, pulling him in so his lips are on yours again.

matt pulls down your pants, lips still intact as he lifts you.

he removes his pants as well, pushing your panties to the side. you both know there’s not much time, so you guys must be quick.

pecking your shoulder, you moan when he slowly fills you.

his thrusts start soft, but he notices your discomfort. he can’t tell if it’s because you’re trying to adjust or if you’re not enjoying it. “you okay?”

your face turns red from embarrassment. “i haven’t done this in a really long time, and um… it’s hard for me to feel pleasurable unless you rub my… y’know.”

“you mean like this?” he smirks, thrusting faster and deeper while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.

you throw your head back and nod. “mhm! fuck.”

whenever he thrusts in, he applies more pressure with his finger and it sends you into a state of bliss. “you f-feel so good, matt.” you whine, squirming in his grip.

it makes it hard for him to move by how tight you’re squeezing around him, but you’re close.

he grunts, closing his eyes to take it all in. in his opinion, this is the best he’s ever had. he wants to keep in mind that he doesn’t even know you, but you’re so much different.

“i’m gonna cum.” you whisper, jolting slightly when he rubs your clit harder.

“cum all over me, baby,” he replies, making sure you cum first.

your release oozes around his dick, and that’s his queue to pull out to finish on your stomach.

the two of you stay there, engulfing each other to catch your breath. “how come i feel so connected to you somehow?” he says lowly, resting his forehead on yours.

you shrug. “you’ll find out soon.”

he’s a little confused by what you mean but doesn’t ask about it. instead, he holds you close until his cellphone ringing disrupts you.

sam, colby, and the triplets walk down a hallway, passing some portraits of the ghosts along the way. you had to take your separate ways when nick called matt complaining that he was taking too long.

“isn’t that the freaky one?” colby asks smugly, pointing to a specific picture.

“that is the freaky one!” sam exclaims, the triplets giggling along with them.

“who’s the freaky one?” chris asks, squinting to get a better look.

“she was nineteen when she died.” colby starts. “she was known to seduce men with her ‘looks of manipulation’, some might say.”

matt scoots in front of the group to have a look, and he could’ve sworn his blood ran cold. a girl is pictured sitting on a stool with a gorgeous smile and old victorian clothes.

the girl in question is you, and he has to blink multiple times to make sure he’s seeing right.

the gold plaque underneath confirms who he’s looking at:

y/n l/n.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @saturncanyon @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut

[ponderingmoonlight]

gojo x wife! y/n where megumi slips up and calls y/n mom since she helped raise him and gojo starts thinking about how they would be as parents?

Got ya! Love this request, hope you enjoy <3

Megumi accidentally calling Satoru's wife "mum"

Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: basically the request above lol

Warnings: this is pure fluff so enjoy, wrote this on my way to Disneyland so look over any spelling mistakes lol

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul

Megumi always admired your tenderness. Since the day he met you when he was just a kid, you have grown on him like no one else. It seemed like you genuinely cared about him and his sister throughout this entire time, standing up for him when needed while leaving him for rest when he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

Despite being the longtime girlfriend and now wife of a chaotic person like Gojo Satoru, you never lost your spark, your cool temper, your striking beauty. You are simply always the (y/n) he knows and secretly admires from head to toe. He never truly admitted it, but to him, you are like a mother, one of the most important people in his life, the pivotal point of his decisions.

It shouldn’t have been such a big surprise then when he accidentally called you mom in front of basically everyone.

A brief moment of thoughtlessness in the middle of pure chaos. He didn’t put much thought into his words until they eventually slipped off his tongue with no turning back.

“Can we talk about this later mom?”

Gojo stand right by your side, hand casually placed around your hip like usual when his eyes dart towards Megumi immediately. Did he hear that correctly? Did Megumi-chan just call you “mom”?

“What did you just say, Megumi-chan?”

Fuck fuck fuck. A wave of embarrassment rolls over Megumi immediately, gaze fixed to the ground. He just called you mom. Fuck, he just called you mom! Not only in front of Gojo, but Yuji, Nanami and Nobara. This is bad. Very very bad.

“Megumi…”, you breathe out, tears stinging in your eyes immediately.

While you were always keen to give Megumi the best life possible in this cruel world, you never imagined that he’d see you as someone this important in his life. You it’s not always easy, living with Satoru and you. After all, he is the most chaotic person you know while you are the complete opposite of him. It never seemed as if Megumi enjoyed your company this much. While staying with you more than with Satoru, nothing like that ever slipped off his tongue.

But right now, he called you mom. He really called you mom.

“Sorry”, he mumbles, turning away from your widen eyes.

Fuck, how embarrassing. You must think he’s a total freak for saying something like that. Especially given the fact that you and Satoru don’t have any kids yet. Was has gotten into him?

Nanami’s eyes are darted towards him in silence, Nobara and Yuji giggling to themselves while all Megumi is able to do is hiding his blushing face in his uniform. He needs to get away from here. Fast.

Faster than any of you are able to react, he storms out of the room, leaving especially Satoru and you in pure shock.

“I think he really called you mom, darling”, Satoru breathes out.

You wipe your eyes, tears threatening to fall down your eyes.

“I never thought he’d see me like this. It might seem a little stupid, but…Megumi is like a son to me. To know that he feels the same about me is just…so overwhelming…”

Satoru can’t help but admire you. That little blush that creeps up your face, how you smile into yourself like a little child. All these nights you spent by Megumi’s side, caring for him and his sister when sick, having serious conversations with him when he caused trouble.

It dawns to him. You’d be such a good mom. In fact, this is what you already are to Megumi. All this time, Satoru never thought about having his own kids. Still being young, putting you and potential kids in the risk of this cruel world. But seeing you like this, all flustered by Megumi’s innocent words, totally amazed by the word “mum”. Maybe, just maybe…The thought of a baby in your arms crosses his mind, how you hold its tiny hands while humming it to sleep.

“I will look after him”, you announce, fumbling with your hands nervously while everyone around you just stands there bamboozled.

“Hey”, you greet him gently, sitting down beside him on the bench that overlooks the whole area.

His head rests in his hands, gaze fixed on the ground.

“I didn’t mean to say that”, he begins rapidly.

You bring your legs up, hugging them tightly while smiling down at him.

“I don’t have a problem with that at all. It’s just that…I never thought you’d see me as something other than Satoru Gojo’s wife. But I don’t want to interpret too much into it. After all, it was just a slip of your tongue, right? Just wanted to make sure you don’t feel bad or something. Don’t worry about it.”

With one gentle rub of his back you get back up, ready to leave when he suddenly grabs your hand.

“This wasn’t an accident. I never got to know my biological mum. And since the day I’ve met Satoru and you, you were always something like a mother to me. I really admire and appreciate you, (y/n).”

Oh. Your eyes begin to water all over again, you can’t help but swallow him with your arms.

“I feel the same, ‘Gumi”, you matter against the crook of his neck, careful not to touch his hair.

“Now now, what’s going on here? Are you stealing my girlfriend, Megumi-chan?” Satoru’s voice suddenly questions from behind, making Megumi jump out of your grasp in an instant.

“You know you have a real talent for ruining someone’s moment, right?”, you comment dryly.

“See you, Megumi.”

With Satoru’s hand holding onto yours tightly, you wander down the way to Jujutsu High. What a precious boy he is. You couldn’t be prouder of Megumi. And knowing that you had such an effect on him…You feel like crying all over again.

“I hope you told them not to make fun of Megumi for saying that”, you break the silence, earning a little chuckle from Satoru.

“Nanami did that for me, don’t worry. What did you talk about earlier?”

“Just wanted to make sure he isn’t embarrassed and that I know it was just a slip of the tongue. Nothing to put too much thought in. But it seems like he really sees me as something like a…mother figure, I guess.”

“Doesn’t surprise me the slightest.”

Huh? Your eyes dart towards him, feet stopping right in their tracks.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, when he had to draw something, it was always the dogs, you and him. You holding his hand, you cooking, you kicking someone’s ass. Don’t you remember how everyone always thought you are his mother? All those years he looked up to you. It doesn’t surprise me that he sees you as his mum. But I should have seen it sooner, what a great mother you’d be.”

His explanation makes your heart skip a beat. Over the last years, you never lost a word over something like kids or being parents. After all, your situation was clear: you live in a world full of danger and death. No child should have to deal with this right from the start. But the way he looks at you with a warm smile, hand holding onto yours tightly. Does he mean…?

“I don’t know, Megumi’s words made me think about having our own kids.”

“Our own kids?”

You can’t believe your ears. Even though you never admitted it towards Satoru, the thought of having children definitely fills your heart with nothing but joy. And especially his kids…

“You already have been and would be such a great mother. What do you say, (y/n)? Mind if we try it?”

You aren’t able to answer. Instead, you let yourself fall into his already opened arms, giggling like an idiot. A child with Satoru Gojo, the love of your life. Yeah, this doesn’t sound bad at all. In fact, this sounds like heaven itself.

“I take this as a yes.”

“I’d love that”, you breathe out, pressing your lips against his longingly.

“You’d be such a great dad. I just know it”, you huff against his mouth, heart jumping up and down in joy.

“Even though I told Nobara and Yuji to make at least a little fun of Megumi-chan?”

“YOU DID WHAT?”

[sailorholly]

Stressed

Summary: Spencer’s been in a bad mood lately, you help him feel better.

Pairing: Season 5 Spencer Reid x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

W/C: 1.4k

See my Masterlist here

“Who drank the last of the coffee and didn’t make another pot?” Spencer propped up on his cane, asked the crowded police station. One of the officers set his mug down beside the case files spread on the table before him.

“I did. I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t know it was a big deal.” Spencer scoffed. “You didn’t think that anyone else would want coffee, when we have barely had three hours of sleep?” The officer looked stunned, obviously caught off guard by the grumpy FBI agent.

“Kid, like I said, I’m sorry.” Spencer limped over to an empty chair, taking a seat. “Don’t call me kid. It’s Dr. Reid to you.” Hotch shot him a warning glance. “Reid.” Spencer dropped his gaze. The officer put his hands up in defeat, muttering under his breath as he walked away.

You wait until the room clears before going over to Spencer. You walk slowly as if you were approaching a wounded animal. “I started a fresh pot just for you. I’ll bring you a cup when it’s finished.” You smile at him, but he doesn’t return it. “Thanks.”

You can tell he’s still upset. He has been moody for a few weeks. Even though you all had agreed not to profile each other, the team had been taking guesses about what was wrong. You still didn’t have an answer. Hotch tried to speak with him privately, but he wouldn’t open up.

At the end of the day, everyone was glad to be back at the hotel. It wasn’t like the comfort of your homes, but at least it was a place to lay your head down. You all had been running on fumes.

You took a shower, thinking of every detail of the abduction. Something didn’t make sense to you, and you couldn’t get your mind off it. You dried your hair, deciding to knock on Spencer’s door to talk through it.

If anyone could help you figure it out, it was him. He answers the door, looking grouchier than before. “I’m trying to sleep. What do you want?” He snaps. You take in his attire. He’s wearing a cardigan over his button up and dress pants, the same outfit he had on earlier.

You frown, pushing your way into his room. “Since when did you start sleeping in your work clothes?” He closes the door, gripping his cane as he walks toward you sitting on his bed. He sits beside you, keeping his distance.

“You’ve been a real asshole lately, Spencer. It’s so unlike you. Is there anything you want to talk about?” He looks away, avoiding your face. “You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you. I’d love to help you, especially if it gets you out of this bad mood.”

You watch as he considers your words. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?” He asks quietly. You place a hand on your heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” The faintest of smiles appears, the first one you’ve seen in a while.

“Now spill.” He sighs. “I am unbelievably stressed. My mom is on a new medication, and she’s giving her doctors a hard time. I got a new neighbor and he plays loud music late at night. I’ve asked him to stop, and he does for a while. Until I go on a case, when I get back, he’s started again. And I’ve been getting these headaches that won’t go away.”

He rubs his left eye, shoulders sinking in relief after he confessed. “Well, all those are valid reasons to be stressed. You really need to get laid.” You giggle, elbowing his side. “I’ve tried.” You stop laughing. You weren’t expecting a sincere answer. You were only joking.

“Wait, you’ve tried to have sex, but can’t find a partner?” You ask, a little surprised. “Yeah, I think it’s my awkwardness paired with the cane. It freaks them out. They probably think I’m an unsub.” He pushes his hair behind his ear.

“I like the cane.” You admit. “Really?” He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah! I think it’s sexy. Don’t take this the wrong way, but couldn’t you just take care of yourself?” You wince. You were having the most awkward conversation of your life with your favorite coworker.

“I tried that. But I couldn’t finish. My mind would race with a million thoughts. It kills the mood.” You lower yourself to the floor, getting on your knees in front of him. “Wha.. what are you doing?” Spencer asks nervously, his voice raising.

“Helping.” You state matter of factly. You unbutton his pants, pulling the zipper down. You’re careful when you tug his pants and underwear down his legs, going slowly so you don’t hurt him. He takes a deep breath when you wrap both hands around his hard cock.

You lower your head toward his lap, taking him between your lips. You suck slowly, waiting for his reaction. He lets out a shaky breath when you take him to the back of your throat. You suck harder now, saliva dripping down your chin.

Spencer watches you intently. He can’t believe this is happening. All the nights he had laid in bed, imagining this exact scenario as he pleasured himself. His biggest fantasy was playing out before him. He grips the white comforter on the bed with one hand, the other holds your head in place as you bob up and down on him.

This was too much. He was going to come, and he hadn’t seen you naked yet. “Come up here, I want to touch you.” He sounds almost like he’s begging. You release him, standing to remove your clothing. “Take everything off.” You command as your panties hit the floor.

He wastes no time, throwing his cardigan and shirt beside your discarded clothes. He didn’t even unbutton his shirt. You didn’t know how he managed to get it off. “Lay back against the pillows.” He scoots until his back hits the cushiony wall. You climb on top of him, legs positioned around his hips.

You start grinding against him. The head of his cock rubbing against your clit. He tilts his head back, greasy curls splayed out on the pillows. You pepper kisses against the sensitive skin of his neck, while large hands cup your breasts.

He tugs at your nipples, rolling them between calloused fingers. You feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t remember a time when you were more turned on. “I want you to sit on my face.” You notice the faint blush rising on his cheeks as he said the words. “You sure?” He nods his head, confirming. “I want to taste you.”

You place your thighs on either side of his head. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up to where you need him the most. His curious tongue meets your center, collecting your arousal and bringing it to your clit. He moans, the sound vibrating against you. You clamp your legs tighter around his ears, letting him devour you.

His tongue swirls around you expertly. He could be writing in Morse Code for all you know. You reach for the headboard when his lips wrap around your most sensitive spot. The suction and heat of his mouth tip you over the edge. You reluctantly remove yourself from him, still feeling needy.

“I need you inside of me.” You kiss above his belly button and his cock twitches. “I can’t get on top because of my leg.” He points to the offending appendage like you had forgotten about it. You beam at him, as you you straddle him once more. “I got this.” You line yourself up with his hard length, sinking down on him.

He gasps when he fills you all the way. You move yourself on top of him, placing your hands on his shoulders for support. You rock your hips back and forth, letting your head tip back when he brushes your g-spot. You call his name, tilting your hips so he hits it again.

“You like that?” Spencer asks, gripping your hips, working your body with his. You feel the pressure building inside you. It’s unbelievable. You’re lucky if you get off once during sex, and your second orgasm is quickly approaching. Spencer feels you clenching around him.

“Already?” He is in complete awe of you. You were even better than he imagined. “Oh God, Spencer! I’m so close.” His hands hold you harder. He sits up, pressing his chest flush against yours. Your peaked nipples rub against his chest, adding fuel to the flames.

He removes a hand from your waist, bringing it down between you. The pad of his thumb drags across your clit, making you writhe with pleasure. He looks down at where you’re joined, admiring the view. “You’re taking me so well, Angel.” He swirls fast circles against you, and your orgasm rolls over you in waves.

Spencer watches as you come undone. He follows closely behind you, a string of curses leaving his lips. You bury your head in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily. “I need to be in a bad mood more often.” Spencer thinks out loud, his lips curling upward into a smile.

Tagging some people I think would like this.

@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @wheredafandomat @cynbx @lamentis-10 @megharat-barnes @anonymously-ominous @kats72 @vivian-555 @itzdarling @emarich7 @nomajdetective @aelinismyqueen @wildernessflora @academiareid

[imtryingbuck]

Fifteen

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 4,736

Warnings: fluff, angst, heavy use of pet names. Bucky and y/n argue and that’s a warning in itself. Brock rumlow, Bucky being a bad friend. Swearing. Bullying.

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

Like every morning she waited outside for Bucky, Steve and Sam to arrive so they could all walk to school together. Y/n was so excited when she found out that she was going to be going to school with her two friends, though she was a year below them.

Sam was the boys’ friend first and when he was introduced to Y/n he instantly became her friend, throwing his arm around her he winked at her causing the girl to blush. Bucky wasn’t happy.

Sighing she checked her watch, the same one Bucky had brought her for her birthday last year, they was late.

She didn’t want to be in trouble for being late so she decided to head off on her own, as she pulled her bag further up her shoulder she kept her head down whilst walking the streets.

“Y/n! Y/n slow down!” Sam’s booming voice came from behind her.

“I can’t I’m going to be late!” She shouted back to him.

“H-hold on, Jesus woman you’re making me run today aren’t you?”

Feeling his arms wrap themselves around her waist she comes to a halt. “Where’s Ducky?”

“Ah he, never mind. Steve hurry up!”

“Sam where is he? Is he ill? Oh god he is isn’t he?”

“No Sugar he’s not, he’s just not walking with us this morning”

“Hey Y/n/n” Steve panted as he pulls his friend into a hug.

“Hi Stevie where’s Ducky?”

“With Dot”

“Dude!” Sam scolded.

“Wh-who’s Dot?”

“His girlfriend” Steve admits rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry”

“H-he has a girlfriend? Oh”

She couldn’t understand why her heart hurt at hearing that.

“If it makes you feel any better, me and Sam don’t like her”

“I want to go to school now”

Throughout her lessons she couldn’t find it in herself to concentrate, he had a girlfriend and didn’t tell her - why didn’t he tell her? Was she pretty? Did she know who she was? Was they going to be friends still?

“-Y/n!”

“Huh? Sorry Sir”

“Class is over…go”

“Right sorry Sir, see you tomorrow”

Shoving all her things into her school bag she heads down to wait outside the cafeteria for the boys to show. Like that morning she checks her watch and sighing, they’re late.

Her stomach growled and giving up waiting for them to show she heads into the cafeteria when she comes to a stop.

They were already there, sat at the table that was unofficially reserved for the four of them.

Her eyes watered at seeing a brunette sat in her place, next to her Ducky. She watched as he threw his arm around her and pulled her into him just like he always did to her. She watched as Sam and Steve laugh about something the girl said.

“Ow, I’m sorry” she stutters out after she’s pushed over.

“Move out of the way freak” Brock. The schools bully. Or as Y/n called him behind his back ‘Brock the rock’ no it wasn’t a compliment at his muscles but an insult, Brock rhymed with rock and rocks where dumb just like Brock.

“I-I’m sorry” she stutters as she tries to move out of the way.

“Aw you going to cry you little freak?” He says loudly catching everyone’s attention.

“N-no-“

“I think she is Brock” laughed Jack, another bully who followed Brock wherever he went.

“The little freak is going to cry!” Brock boomed causing her to flinch.

He takes it one step further by pushing her in to Jack who then shoves her away violently back to Brock, back and forth she was pushed between the two.

Y/n’s frantic eyes met Bucky’s who had been watching the whole thing along with everyone else. She nearly burst out crying when all he did was look down.

“Looks like your little boyfriend isn’t coming to the rescue this time freak” Brock whispers as he clutches her shirt tightly in his grip just before pushing her roughly onto the ground.

She waits until Brock and his lackeys leave before standing up, looking up towards the table she’s normally sat at with her friends her heart breaks when she sees the back of Bucky’s head and Steve and Sam looking down at their food.

Running out of the cafeteria she runs to the bathroom where she locks herself away until the loud shrill of the bell goes off.

Throughout the day she was glad she didn’t see any of the boys or Brock and Jack as she moved from one class to the next. Stuck in her own mind she couldn’t understand why neither one of her friends stuck up for her like they’ve done before whenever Brock was acting tough now that Tony had left school.

Were they my friends now? Why didn’t Bucky tell me he had a girlfriend? Why didn’t Steve and Sam stick up for me?

They were some of the many questions that swirled around her head as her last teacher Mr Levinson droned on.

When the bell rang throughout the school she took her time in packing her things, waiting for everyone to leave.

“Y/n?”

“Yes sir?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes sir, why?”

“Well you’re normally the first one out of the class” he chuckles.

“Oh. No everything’s okay sir” she smiled up at him as she brought the strap of her bag up her arm.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow remember you’ve got me for two periods”

“I know sir, I’ll see you tomorrow” waving bye to her favourite teacher she walks out of the class, slowly walking to the entrance. Like Mr Levinson said she was normally the first one out of class, and normally she was running through the halls to wait outside for the boys to arrive so they could head to the sweet shop on the corner of Main Street but today she was in no rush, no rush in seeing the spot she always waited at to being empty.

As she stepped out of the doors she felt stupid for hoping that they would have waited for her, they hadn’t.

As she walked past the sweet shop she heard Sam’s loud laughter filter through the gap in the door, her heart pounding loudly in her chest as she saw Sam, Steve and Bucky all laughing in the store, she swore her heart broke when she saw Bucky grab ahold of the brunettes hand from lunch and pulling her to place his lips to hers. Y/n brought her fingers to her lips softly touching them wondering how the girl in the store felt kissing Bucky.

Shaking her head and wiping her tears she walks off before any of them sees her.

“Hello angel-angel what’s wrong?” Howard asks when she walks in and straight pass him without saying hello or telling him how her day went, or better yet without her handing him her packet full to the brim of sweets so he could pick one - or if she was letting him feel cheeky two - out.

“Nothing dad I’m going to do my homework”

“Angel come here, or don’t I’ll just follow you” he mutters following her upstairs and into her room.

“Dad, please I just want to do my homework and go to sleep”

“Not until you tell me what’s happened? You’re not normally back yet, is Lloyds closed?”

“No. I-I just really need to get this homework done”

“Where’s the boys?”

“I-dad please”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on? You seem to forget angel I know you and I know something is wrong, so spill”

“Duc-Bucky has a girlfriend…”

“Oh…oh. I’m sorry angel”

“It’s okay, I just don’t have any friends anymore” she shrugs, looking at the photograph she had hanging up on her wall. Her, Bucky, Sam and Steve standing in front of the stall at the fair ground, Bucky’s arm wrapped around her waist as her hand was on his chest. All four of them smiling widely at the camera as Maria takes the photo.

“Of course you’ll still have friends angel, the boys will still be your friends”

“No they won’t. Steve and Sam were friends with Bucky before they were my friends”

“Bucky’s still you friend darling just because he has a girlfriend doesn’t mean shit-don’t tell your mother I just swore in front of you”

“I won’t” she giggles.

“Is there anything else you’re not telling me?”

She hadn’t found the courage to tell her parents about the bullying or how bad it was, knowing how they would react she didn’t want to make it any worse than it already was.

“No dad everything’s okay I promise”

“Okay…well tomorrow is Friday and you know what that means don’t you? That’ll prove that the boys are still your friends”

Shortly after Howard leaves so she could start her homework. Not that she does it.

Friday, tomorrow is Friday. Every weekend her, Steve and Sam heads to Bucky’s house for a sleepover. Was she still invited? Was Bucky’s girlfriend going to be there?

Her head pounded and her eyes stung so she climbed into bed falling asleep as her stomach growled in hunger it only then occurred to her that she hadn’t ate anything since breakfast, it didn’t stop her from falling into a restless sleep.

The next morning she moved along with the motions. Getting dressed, brushing her hair and teeth, eating breakfast, she puts her shoes on pressing a kiss to her parents their cheeks she says her goodbyes.

She hesitates outside whether she should wait for the boys to show or not she finally forces her legs to move, she wasn’t going to be waiting on them. Not anymore.

“Oi freak!” Brock shouted as he walks across the road to where she was, she carried on walking keeping her head down.

“Freak don’t ignore him” Jack says.

She felt hands on her back before she was shoved down on to the ground scraping her hands and her knees. “W-what do you want?”

“Your lunch”

“No”

“What?” Don’t ask her Brock she’s just as shocked as you at her sticking up for herself.

“I said no, are you deaf?” Shut up shut up shut up her brain screams at her.

“Funny, don’t worry freak you’re going to regret this” Brock says before picking her bag up and throwing it over a fence.

Watching the pair walk off she stands up and looks down at her knees, great they’re bleeding. Opening the gate she walks over to the door and knocks, waiting patiently she waits for the owner to open up.

“Hello?”

“Hi Sir, my bag got thrown over your fence could I please get it?”

“Sure…”

“It’s over that fence” she points at the wooden fence that leads to the backyard she assumes.

“Oh, yeah sure hold on I’ll get the key” he walks back inside and returns quickly with the key “are you okay?”

“Yes Sir, are you?”

“I’m fine but I’m talking about your knees and hands, they’re bleeding”.

“Bullies Sir”

“Oh, nasty little parasites aren’t they?”

“Yes Sir” she giggles “thank you Sir” she says as he hands over her bag back to her.

“You’re welcome and hey listen don’t let them get to you okay? It will get better soon I can promise you that”

“H-how do you know?”

“I was bullied when I was at school but here I am owning a business that continues to grow even long after I’ve retired” he smiles softly.

“Wow, I-I don’t know why they pick on me I’ve never done anything wrong to them”

“Because they see the potential in you and they are scared because they haven’t gotten any so they spend their time and energy trying to bring you down”

“Oh, well I wish they would stop”

“They will you just have to wait them out”

“Thank you Sir, I best get going I’m…crap I’m late”

“Go go, and call me Stan”

“Y/n, bye Mr Stan”

“Well it’s actually Mr Lee but go your late” the older man chuckles.

“I’m going I’m going” she laughs waving at him.

Practically running to school she runs to her class “I’m sorry Miss” 

“It’s okay Y/n just make sure it doesn’t happen again”

“It won’t Miss I promise”

Ms Ford was an older teacher who taught maths whether it’s because of her age or because of how long she had been teaching for she simply didn’t care if you was late or not, as long as you didn’t cause any trouble then it was fine.

When the bell rang signalling for it to be lunch she slowly moved towards the bathroom so she could eat, on her way there she saw two of Brock’s friends walking towards her before she had a chance to do anything they grabbed her arms and dragged her backwards, leading her into the cafeteria.

No one blinks an eye or tries to help her out.

She’s shoved onto her knees in front of Brock, she shifts and in the corner of her eye she sees Bucky, Steve and Sam all staring.

“This little freak had the balls to talk back to me this morning and well I can’t let that happen” he told everyone. “Stand the freak up”

She’s roughly pulled up by her arms “did you all know that her dad killed her mom? Or that this little freak was in an orphanage?” He laughs.

“Shut up Brock” she says, mentally slapping herself for talking back.

“Ooh the freak speaks once again. Hey Bucky doesn’t this dog belong to you?” She’s spun around so she has no choice but to look at him, who once again just stares down.

“No? Not going to say anything? Wow some friend you are” Brock chuckles. “Hey guys want to see what she’s hiding under her shirt? My mom was a nurse who had to touch this freak”

Y/n’s eyes widen and she starts to struggle against the hold that the two boys had on her arms. “No no no Brock I’m sorry I’m sorry you don’t have to do this! I’m sorry”

Ignoring her pleads he just smirks at her “hold her steady boys”

“Brock stop!” Steve says shakily from the table.

“Shut up or your next. Stop struggling freak”

“Please s-stop! Please-D-Ducky help! No no no no no please no” she screams out as Brock rips her shirt off leaving her scarred back exposed to nearly the whole school.

“Disgusting isn’t it?” Brock laughs.

The murmurs and laughters are drowned out by the roaring of blood filling her ears, the moment she’s dropped to the ground she wraps her hands over her chest and runs out of the cafeteria and out of the school. Her vision was blurred as she ran faster than she’s ever ran before.

“Y/n-oh my lord, come here darling” an older voice says that she recognised from earlier.

“M-m-Mr Stan”

“I’m not going to hurt you, I’m going to put my coat around you okay?” As soon as the material was around her she collapsed into his arms.

“Darling le-let’s get you into the car and I’ll take you home okay?”

Everything moves in a blur, she doesn’t even realise that Mr Stan pulls up to her house or that he’s knocking on the door talking to her father or that her father comes rushing out of the house.

“Angel, angel come here”

“D-Dada” she cries clinging to him.

Howard lifts her out of the car and takes her into the house calling out for Maria who comes out of the kitchen. He takes her upstairs to her room where he lays her gently on the bed his heart breaking at the way she still clings on to him.

Leaving Maria to help Y/n get dressed and clean her injuries up he heads down the stairs to where Stan was still waiting.

“Come with me Stan” leading the older man into his office “what happened?”

“I met her this morning when she knocked on my door a bully had thrown her bag over my fence, we spoke a little before she left for school”

“A bully? Y/n’s being bullied?”

“So she says Sir”

“Howard, you know this Stan. Anyway carry on”

“Well I was driving home when she ran out into the road clutching…covering her chest. Her top half was naked. I got out and put my coat around her and brought her home”

“D-Did she say anything?”

“No, she just cried”

“Thank you for bringing her home Stan, here here’s some money” Howard pulls out a huge wad of money from the draw of his desk.

“Howard, I don’t want your money son. She’s a sweet girl who doesn’t deserve half of the shit she’s gone through”

“Yo-you know?”

“Well…yes. She was in the newspapers. Just make sure she’s okay for me, I’ll see myself out goodbye Howard”

“Y/n, angel please talk to us” Howard pleads as he sits next to Maria on Y/ns bed.

“I-it doesn’t matter”

“Of course it does sweetie, we need to deal with this” Maria speaks softly.

“I’m a freak! My back is disgusting. I-I should of died when my real dad tried to kill me”

Taken back by her confession Maria clutches her chest with shaky hands, Howard stutters trying to find the right words.

“A-Angel you don’t mean that”

“I do. I’m tired of being bullied, I’ve tried dad to make friends I have I swear but nobody wants to be friends with a freak. I don’t get why they call me names or steal my lunch or push me into things. I hate going to school. I hate Sam. I hate Steve. An-and I hate James. I hate my life, I wish I was dead” a shuddering breath leaves her lips as her whole body trembles.

She didn’t mean to tell them about the bullying or about how she hated her friends because even though they didn’t talk to her or stick up for her she didn’t hate them, they were her only friends.

She definitely didn’t mean to tell them how she wished she was dead.

“Y/n Stark you take that back!” Maria scolds.

“No! And let’s be honest mom the only reason you two adopted me was out of pity and because George probably asked you too just so James could keep me around” her voice raised and shook, mentally scolding herself for saying that because now she had to sit there and watch as the tears gathered in her mommas eyes.

“Is-is that what you really think?”

“It wasn’t pity that we felt when we adopted you Y/n, it was because I genuinely believed that you had a very special place in our family and I still believe that even after all these years. George never asked us to take you in.” Howard speaks.

“I-I-oh momma I’m so sorry! Dada I swear I didn’t mean it” she cries her eyes bouncing from one parent to the next.

“Angel, it’s okay. Oh sweetheart come here” Howard opens his arms waiting for his daughter to climb into them, rubbing his hand up and down her back not flinching or feeling disgusted when he feels the scars under her shirt.

“I’m sorry” she repeats over and over.

“Sweetheart we love you and just because you’re not biologically ours doesn’t make a difference, you are our daughter through and through” Maria says softly wiping the tears that fall onto her cheeks.

“I-I don’t want to go to school anymore momma please don’t make me go back”

“We’ll talk about it later okay? Get some sleep and we’ll talk about everything” Maria promises watching as she nods and climbs back into bed. 

A few hours later after Maria had managed to calm down Howard who was quite literally on a war path there was a knock on the door, Maria walked over to the door opening it she saw Sam and Steve standing there with sheepish looks on their faces.

“What are you two doing here?”

“W-we want to see Y/n, is-is she okay?”

“She is now. Where is James?”

“With Dot…”

“Charming. I don’t think Y/n will want to see you tonight, please leave”

“Miss Maria we’re really sorry, please tell Y/n that.”

“I will do. Goodbye boys”

Watching as the boys walk away with their tails in between their legs she shakes her head, she hates turning them away but when it comes to her daughter she’ll do everything to protect her, even if it’s from her friends.

The next day Y/n woke with a pounding headache, the memories of what she had said to her parents made her stomach hurt. She hated herself for making her mom cry, seeing the hurt flash in her parents eyes made her want to burst out crying.

She never wanted her parents to find out that she was being bullied afraid it made her look weak, made her look like she needed them to save her again. She wanted to be strong just like Tony, be the social butterfly just like her brother instead of being social outcast that she was. 

Y/n had tried to fit in she really did, she tried to be someone that she wasn’t. She found it hard to be around the other girls who were interested in make up, the latest fashion and boys, none of them things she cared about.

Okay maybe she was interested in boys she noticed them obviously, especially one in particular. Bucky.

But sadly that didn’t matter anymore, not now that he had a girlfriend.

Y/n preferred the simpler things that life had to offer, she never cared for all pretty dresses her mom would get her or all of the expensive things her dad would give her. She preferred getting mud all over her, climbing trees, talking to the animals she encountered. Her hair was always messy and nine out of ten times her hair would have leaves tangled in it. Her clothes would have grass stains on them from where she would either roll around in the grass or from where she would kneel down getting closer to the insects she came upon.

She never truly understood why the other kids called her a freak, maybe she was but that didn’t matter right? She had a heart and feelings and she was just the same as everyone else.

“Angel, James is here to see you” Howard knocks on her bedroom door pulling her out of her trance.

Might as well as get this over and done with.

“Let him in dad”

“I’m just downstairs if you need me angel”

“Okay”

She sits up so she’s leaning against the headboard, twisting her ring that her dad had gotten her when she had gotten an A on a test. She watches as the door handle goes down a little bit and the door comes open revealing her Ducky.

“Hi Bun-Y/n” he says shyly as he shuffles in to the room, his eyes roaming everywhere other than on her.

“Hi”

“H-how are you feeling?”

“You’re joking right?” She scoffs.

“I-I’m sorry about yesterday, I should of done something to stop Brock”

“But you didn’t and I was humiliated in front of the whole entire school.”

“I know. Y-you didn’t come to mine last night and when I found out that Sam and Steve was turned away by your mom I kind of gotten worried”

“You expected me to show up after none of you said anything to stop Brock? After you didn’t wait for me at lunch or how you and the boys went to Lloyds without me?”

Rubbing the back of his neck he shifted on the spot “well yeah, we’re friends Bu-Y/n”

“You can’t even say the name you gave me when you was seven. Why is that?”

“Dot doesn’t like it”

“Dot being your girlfriend?”

“Yeah…”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had one?”

“Be-because I didn’t want you to get jealous”

“You thought I would get jealous?”

“Well yeah, you are aren’t you?”

“Give me a second, just wait there” she says as she stands up on shaky legs, moving around him she heads downstairs to the living room where her parents sat “momma, dada can I please swear? I won’t do it again I promise”

“Of course princess” Howard grins before Maria could say anything.

She runs back upstairs and walks around Bucky who still stands there. “Are you fucking out of your mind? You honestly thought I was jealous? I would have been happy for you!”

“Did you just ask your parents if you could swear?” Bucky grins finding it amusing.

“Don’t grin at me Ducky, I swear to God I will hit you!”

“You can’t call me that anymore Y/n, Dot hates it especially after you called it me yesterday”

“Fuck Dot! I’ve been your friend since I was six years old Ducky! You want me to be different with you now that you have a girlfriend?”

“Bunny-shit Y/n. Please just stop calling me it okay it’s embarrassing, we’re to old now to keep calling each other them silly nicknames”

“I-we-what? Duc-“

“Y/n.”

“Fine. James are you really going to be choosing her someone you’ve been dating for all of five minutes over me? Someone you’ve know for years?”

“Yes.”

“W-what?”

“I’m choosing her over you.”

“A-are we no longer friends?”

“Will you grow up and stop acting like a freak?” He says instantly slamming his mouth shut, regret seeping into his veins when he sees her the pain flash across her eyes.

“What did you just call me?”

“I-I didn’t mean it-“

“What did you just call me James”

“Bun-“

“I’m not going to fucking ask again James!”

“A freak” he gulps.

“Fuck you. Get the fuck out of my house and out of my fucking life!”

“Bun-“

“You’re not allowed to call me that anymore, remember? Your bitch of a girlfriend won’t like it oh and we’re not fucking friends anymore! Now leave!”

“Don’t call Dot a-“

“She’s a bitch. A big fat stinking bitch! And guess what James, so are you.”

“Brock’s right, you are a freak. A freak with no friends. And guess what Y/n, I never wanted to be your friend I just felt sorry for you. Your father beat you and killed your mother so of course I felt sorry for you, did you really think I wanted to be friends with you? News flash I didn’t!” He shouts, once he calmed down from his outburst he struggles to breathe “Y/n I’m-I’m sor-“

“I hate you. If you don’t leave right now I’ll get my dad up here, I’m not joking James. Get out I hate you so much I can’t believe I actually thought I loved you. Now fuck off.”

“I-I’m sorry”

“Shove your sorry up your arse and fuck right off bye bye”

She turns her back on him and waiting until she heard him leave, she had always thought that he became her friend because he felt sorry for her but she didn’t want to believe it, now she knew the truth she didn’t know what to do with herself.

Hearing the front door shut she burst out crying, she fell to her knees clutching her chest. She felt her heart had been ripped out of her chest and stomped on a million times.

“Oh my sweet baby, it’s okay I’ve got you” Maria hold her daughter as she breaks down.

“M-Momma it hurts”

“I know it does sweetheart. Let it all out baby”

“I-I don’t want to be here anymore momma”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to go to a private school like you and dada said befo-before I went to school with them”

Maria looks over at Howard who stands at the doorway with his jaw clenched so tightly that Maria thought he was going to shatter his teeth.

“Are you sure angel?”

“Yes I’m sure dada, please I won’t ask for anything else ever again!”

“I’ll set it up angel”

Bucky had no idea that when he woke up that morning that he was going to lose his best friend but he only had himself to blame.

He had lost the most important person in his life all because he fucked up.

He had said the most vilest things to her which was not in any way true.

He had lost his Bunny.

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[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

DJ plays- Color Me Badd - I Adore Mi Amor

Transcript under the cut

Geoffrey: Hey! Check out this little guy.

Bob: Probably one of the cats they let in the church to keep the mice out. Wonder what’s he doing all the way out here.

Geoffrey: We can’t leave him out in the cold. It’s starting to get cold soon.

Bob: There’s no way you think we can sneak a cat in the dorms.

Geoffrey: I’m pretty sure people have snuck in worse. Besides, we’re doing an act of kindness, right, little guy?

Bob: Does Nancy like cats?

Geoffrey: [nervously] W-why?

Bob: I saw you two being all cozy at the game the other day. Care to share?

Geoffrey: She was just being nice, that’s all...

Bob: Popular girls aren’t just nice for no reason. Actually...popular girls aren’t nice at all.

Geoffrey: She’s different. She’s still the same Nancy Landgraab I knew when we were kids. Kind. Smart. Um, really pretty...

Bob: Oh, boy. Do you hear yourself! You my friend are in l-o-v-e and you should talk to her! Ask her out!

Geoffrey: Ask you Nancy Landgraab? How do I do that?

Bob: Glad you ask. I am a certified ladies man. You just gotta- you know, talk to her! Listen to her when she talks. Ask about her day. Compliment her brain, not just her looks, trust me.

Don: [snorts] You listen to this dickhead and you’ll never get laid, Osteer. If you want to hook up with Blondie, I can help you out. It’ll cost you, though.

Geoffrey: Like what?

Don: Room swap. It’ll be easier for my girl to come over without getting caught if I have your room. Dina is friends with the hot blonde chick and she’ll put in a good word. Don’t worry, you can tap that before we swap. Deal?

Geoffrey: I don’t know... shouldn’t I get to know her better?

Don: We’re saying the same thing, dumbass! I’ll let you in on a secret; Tonight, a couple of us cool kids are sneaking out to a college party. Blondie will be there, and you two can get your freak on. How’s that?

Geoffrey: I-

Don: Atta boy, Osteer! Don’t dress like a dork virgin either.

Bob: [in a baby voice] I think this is a bad idea, Geoffrey! Yeah, couldn’t have said it better myself, little guy.

-

Geoffrey: Hey, Nancy. Um. Thanks again for helping me the other day. The only thing that’s bruised is my ego, honestly.

Nancy: Yes, of course. I’m glad you’re okay. Sorry about your ego.

Geoffrey: [chuckles] It’s ok, it should be used to this by now. What are you reading? Can I sit with you before class?

Nancy: Yeah, sure.

Vanessa: She has a crush on Geoffrey? Why didn’t she tell me?

Nina: Apparently, they’re childhood sweethearts. We need you to play matchmaker. If anyone can hook them up, it’s you, VV.

Nancy Narrates: [Ever since that night in my room, Vanessa has been noticeable distant from me. The only thing reaching me was that lost, faraway look in her eyes]

Cassie: Guys...I don’t know. What if Sister Agnes decides to do another room check? What am I supposed to say?

Cassie: I’m just gonna say it- I don’t think you should do this. Feels wrong. Lying? I wouldn’t even know what to say if someone asks. Nancy, say something-

Vanessa: Jesus fucking Christ, figure it the fuck out! Come on, Nancy.

-

Geoffrey: Do you want to da-

Nancy: Getting a drink.

Vanessa: Hi.

Nancy: Are you mad at me about something?

Vanessa: Why would I be mad at you?

Nancy: I don’t know..

Vanessa: Put that down and come dance.

DJ plays- Color Me Badd - I Adore Mi Amor

Dream on, dream away I think I'm gonna have to stay Stay forever I adore mi amor

You want to take her place You say you'd treat me better Better I know for sure

You see she loves me And I could never leave her

Nancy Narrates: [There it was, that feeling again. Only this time, I did fall completely apart]

Nancy: [panting]

You're the one that I adore (I adore) I'll be forever your love (mi amor)

[peachesofteal]

@luminousbeings-crudematter has me sick over the idea of Simon being your insufferable ex.

18+ MDNI / explicit sexual content (I wrote this on my phone so mind the mistakes)

It’s not that you didn’t love Simon. You did. You still do. But love had turned into something else, within months, had turned into heartbreak, and anxiety, and pain. The waiting, the worrying. Standing in the doorway at two AM, wondering if he’s going to let you touch him this time or if he’s going to shut you out for days, disappearing into a shell of himself. Becoming the Ghost that haunts your house, instead of your boyfriend.

It was too much. And not enough. All at the same time.

He said he understood. It felt so mutual, when he held you the night of the break up. He rubbed your back and kissed your tear stained cheeks, telling you not to blame yourself, telling you that he was okay, that you’d be okay, that everything would be just fine.

So, you started to try moving on, pieced yourself together and started get back out in the world, tried feel the sun on your face. You went to dinner and brunches with your friends, picked up a new hobby, went back to yoga. You were healing, even starting to think about dating again, bandaging the gaping hole in your heart with tape and glue, anything to cover up the ache that still lingered there.

There was just one little problem.

“Si, we can’t-“

“Hush.” He sticks a thumb in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, manhandling your jaw wide as his other hand unzips his jeans, reaching to free his cock, heavy and hot in his grip, nearly too thick to be believed, fat tip already leaking. Your knees slide against the cold ground of the grimy pub bathroom, thighs pressing together without conscious effort. “I like this dress, love.” He hums as he thrusts the length of his cock down into your mouth, hot skin sliding against your tongue, pushing all the way down your throat until you can’t breathe. “Fuck, that’s it.” You peer up at him through your tears, watching the way his head tips back, adams apple bobbing with a swallow. He’s wearing the mask, the black cotton one, and you can see why your date was so freaked out. From this angle, he looks terrifying. Giant, broad muscled shoulders and arms forced into a black sweatshirt, most of his face hidden by the mask and hood.

No wonder your date didn’t say a word when he suddenly appeared at your table, gripping you by your elbow, excusing you from your meal.

“Simon, what are you doing he-“

“Sorry mate, can I borrow her for a moment?”

“That’s my girl.” He grunts, fingers tugging at the straps of your dress, jerking you closer. He doesn’t force himself too far, but you take as much as you can willingly, letting him smash your nose into the hair at the base of his cock, tears smarting with every half breath. “You were made for this cock, sweetheart.” He fucks your face, coaching you through it the entire time, telling you how good you are, how sweet and perfect, and how you’ll never be able to replace him.

He puts you back together so tenderly afterwards, wiping your face, kissing you softly as he fixes your hair.

“You can’t go back to that table now. Want me to take you for dinner?” He asks innocently, like he didn’t just give you a belly full of come. You glower at him, but he just smiles under the mask, eyes scrunching just so, handsome in a way that completely devastates you every time.

“This is the last time.” You grumble, fixing your dress as you stalk out the bathroom, down the dark back hall to the emergency exit. He’s hot on your heels, fingers casually brushing the swell of your ass, the echo of his half mocking, half sincere chuckle ringing in your ears. “Simon, I’m serious, I-“ He cuts you off, dragging the mask down to press his lips to yours, tasting what’s left of him in your mouth before pulling away.

“What makes you think I’m not serious?”

I know for a fact he threatens to give you a baby every time he fucks you. Presses you into missionary and makes you look at him as he whispers about how he knows exactly how to fix this.

[yurinaa-world]

hello, can I request Jing Yuan, Caelus and Welt with an injury prone reader who constantly hides and dismisses their injuries? (Getting hit by falling objects, being the unfortunate victim of harsh attacks, Getting shoved down a flight of stairs by accident or tripping over objects)

Despite the fast reflexes developed to avoid a good chunk of injuries, they still get hurt to the point of needing medical aid (bloody head, heavy bleeding ext.) and are unable to tell immediately due to their high pain tolerance. Even then, reader avoid being healed like the the plague and running off to tend to their injuries on their own. If they wake up in a hospital, they will sneak out of said hospital and dismiss concerns of their Injuries when found.

Reader will say "oh its just a scratch" as if their arm hadn't been nearly mauled by a bear.

Thanks,

Characters: Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, and Welt yang x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: reader who get injured easily, but dismisses it

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes, mentions of blood, stitches, wounds/injuries

Notes: sorry I don't write for Cealus so I replaced him with Dan Heng if you don't mind

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

You’ve been avoiding him for a while; anytime you see him around the corner, you run the opposite way. You were injured from a pretty nasty fight with monsters, but knowing Jing Yuan, you would have to wait a good 5 hours to heal up properly so he wouldn’t notice the injury and force you into the hospital, and you would rather deal with it yourself. One thing is that he doesn’t take your word on you dismissing your injuries. Don’t believe he doesn’t notice since you always do the same thing when this happens.

You also go to the guest bathroom to stitch and clean yourself up properly, especially making sure that the servants won’t tell Jing Yuan, yet some little stitching does. You might as well go through the guest window instead of the door (which you did go through a handful of times).

You have to clean the evidence, like scrubbing down everything to make sure not even a drop of blood is left behind, and burn the cloth that had all your blood on it along with stings and needles used for your stitches (anything you used to clean your wounds).

All that’s left is to face him, which is another annoying problem.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

+(Bonus blurb)

You lay back against the headboard of your shared bed. stretching your shoulder and sighing, feeling the little sting from the stitches that you did yourself for a couple of hours. “Is something wrong with your shoulder?” Jing Yuan asks while reading his book.

He didn’t even glance up from the text in front of him. You looked down at your shoulder, the very tint of where the stitches are. “Oh no, I’m fine, just stiff is all." “Are you sure?" "yeah,” you nodded, sweating a little.

"I didn’t see you today,” he commented, saying it in an unusual tone that made you look over at him. It was an expression you never thought he would wear—blank, almost mad, or not wanting to say anything.

“Ah, I stayed home,” you replied, looking away. “The servants informed me that you went out and then came back home bloody.” Oh, you gotta be kidding about those damn snitches!

you thought, but instead just smiled nervously at Jing Yuan. He finally closed his book and looked up at you, his gold eyes freaking at you.

“well?”

"I tripped!"

“You can’t fool me," he stated flatly, crossing his arms around his chest and face and switching to his smirk, making a whole change in the atmosphere, and you couldn’t help but shiver.

"Fine," you huffed, rolling your eyes. "I got a little hurt and fixed myself with stitches. “I’m perfectly fine, though!" You added trying to play off your injury.

“What shall I do with you? Maybe tie you up?”

“Tie me up?! Over this!”

“Sounds fitting for you.”

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

You avoid everyone like plague and stay in your room, locking your door and not letting anyone in. It takes you such a long time to stitch up and clean up your wounds. If March knows, and even if you asked her to keep it away from Dan Heng,  she just can’t keep her mouth shut.

Whenever you do get hurt in front of him, you immediately tell him you're fine and avoid any help from him, even if you look like you got jumped by 15 different people.

There have been times you forgot to lock your door, which happens when you run into your room cleaning up your very messed-up wounds without more of your blood ruining your floor.

But also the part about having a big mouth and your door being unlocked—yeah,  him seeing your trashy, shaky hand trying to stitch yourself up freaks him out that he has to help you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

+(Bonus blurb)

You groan in annoyance, sitting at your little two-seat table, medkit on your table, trying your best to pull string in the skin of your arm without causing more damage than necessary. needle going through your skin with the rest of the string in your mouth. Your lips tug on the thread, and you feel the tug in your teeth.

“What are you doing?” You hear Dan Heng say something, making you stop in your tracks as you attempt to pull the string out of your mouth. You sigh, turning around to face Dan Heng. "Uh, Dan Heng, what are you doing here?" you sweat. “March said you weren’t feeling well and I should check on you; it looks like she’s right." stupid march! “You don’t need to bother,” yet he doesn’t listen to you.

He goes over to your chair beside the one you were in, pulling it up so that he is sitting next to you, taking your arm with trashy stitches on it, removing it, and cutting it off for a fresh new start.

"You shouldn’t have the string in your mouth; germs could transfer to the wound and give you an infection.”

He scolded gently, cleaning up the wound, taking the string, and gently taking your arm, slowly taking the needle and gently pulling it through your skin, being careful not to tear the flesh.

“Dr. Dan Heng, you really do know everything." You laugh slightly while watching him work his magic on your arm.

“Dr. Dan Heng? It’s good to know about this stuff when it comes to you,” he shrugs nonchalantly. He completely fixes your arm, and you look at your cleaned arm with an impressed look.

“Thank you, Dan Heng.”

𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓉 𝓎𝒶𝓃𝑔

You worry a lot about him; you can’t even hide it or play it off with him; he can just see the slight change in your body, your stunning white walking, or how you clutch at your shoulder and go to change bandages, and even more blood starts to soak out.

While you are sleeping together, he wakes up to a weird feeling, turning the lamp to see a little pool of blood by the shoulder and the shoulder of your clothes, also stained in crimson red, while you look so uncomfortable by the wet feeling.

He wakes you up, and you fix up while you're still half asleep, not knowing what’s even happening as he cleans the sheets, wounds, and clothes to make sure your blood doesn’t leak out again.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[loaksbitch]

virgin town ✶ e. landry

both inexperienced!ethan x reader having whole fuck-business deal to lose their virginity to each other but it’s so awkward and awkward? — yeah, ethan brain rot it real.

pairing : both inexperienced!ethan x inexperienced!reader

warnings : p in v, virginity loss, mention of panicking and anxiety, unprotected sex (yeah, no. wrap it before you tap it.) no orgasm (yikes, i know.) kissing, super caring and shy ethan <3

you bite your lips hard when you enter his bedroom.

everything was all set and perfect as if he did it on purpose since you were coming to his place. — of course he would, especially after having a whole business of fucking you. — your eyes wander around while your nostrils savored the jasmine like scent that filled the room, even the bed was neatly folded.

ethan on other hand rubs his sweaty palms together, clearing his throat that caused you to slightly jump. his “shit, sorry.” doesn’t get unnoticed by you before you give him a soft yet nervous smile.

the room is so awkwardly quiet making ethan wish he could just disappear out from your sight. the panic from days before still dwelling in his gut. what if i screw up? he can’t help but think.

“are you thirsty?” ethan calls behind you, voice cracking slightly.

your ears are red, skin tingling just with his deep voice asking if you were thirsty. you give him a soft shake before muttering, “no?” as a question.

you carefully swing down your bag to the couch of his bedroom, bending your knees a little and ethan almost groaned at your posture. you’re so fucking hot.

“you can sit down.” he breathes out a chuckle, sensing your nervousness which was also making him extremely nervous. his voice was too calm but in reality, ethan just wanted to run to his bathroom and throw up.

you take his order, collectively taking a seat on the small sofa and checking your surroundings.

the room was pretty, posters of some band he liked plastered to his wall, you gulp when your eyes land to the clean bed. you were too distracted to even notice ethan was now sat beside you, his right leg bouncing due to the anxiety.

“so,” he began. “you kinda freaking out too?”

you bite on your cheeks, giving him a nod and murmuring a firm “yes.”

ethan quick breathed out strong, clearing his throat and running his hand through his brown curls. “good, it’s not just me then.”

the air was again back to uncomfortable shape of silence. you looking the other way and ethan doing the same to avoid your eyes. jesus christ, when is this going to end?

“uuh,” he was the first to say something again, “before we do it i just want to clarify something.” he brings himself to face you. “i don’t want you to feel like you have to do this because you just agreed the other day.” you give him a blank stare and ethan mentally cries.

“i mean, you can back out if you changed your mi—“

“no, i want this.” you suddenly say and watch the scared man’s mouth twitch for a smile. “i want this too.” ethan agrees, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck.

this whole situation felt surreal, ethan does not want to disappoint you. he wants to make you feel good and he will of course try to do his best with what he got to watch on hubs and sites.

“thank you.” you manage to say and ethan raise his brows slightly confused. “for checking if i’m having second thoughts y’know.”

ethan softly smiles before taking a deep breath, nodding and getting on his feet to offer a hand out to you.

you swallowed hard, feeling the tip of your fingers and toes going ice cold, you take his hand. this was really going to happen.

he held onto your hand gently and led you to his bed. his brown eyes still on yours, ethan licks his lips not knowing a single fuck to do right now. so, he clears his throat for the thousand times.

“you can still… change your mind,” your inside twists, you don’t want to have a second thought. you don’t want to be a geeky virgin anymore and so does ethan, why is he offering you a gate to leave?

“i want this, e.” your eyes meet. “but if you’re having second t—“

“what! no- i mean yeah.. fuck, no. i want you.” you flinch at the sudden outburst. “i want this too.” his hold tightened on your hand as if he’s getting through a mental crisis.

you can hear your heartbeat in your ear.

ethan then starts to lean close to you, brining his face close to yours until his soft lips were ghosting yours. it felt like you were trembling and he could sense it, and now when your lips finally met, you felt his breath hit your skin shakily.

you can’t help but find a small sense of comfort when you heard his breathing. ethan was freaking out as you.

ethan let go of your small hand and gently placed them on your hips while yours came to his broad chest and lightly slid to his shoulder. trying to deepen the kiss, ethan nudged your nose by his, pushing into your mouth slightly harder.

slowly, his hand crept to your lower back, large hand fisting on your shirt like he wants you out of it. ethan pressed you closer to him, your tits flush and kiss deepening.

you, yourself wanted the distance between you both to disappear and so, you wrapped your hands to the back of his neck and held him close. but, it was short lived when you felt his body literally stir which caused you to take a step back.

“sorry.” he put some space between you both.

ethan began to unbutton his shirt while you took sign and pulled on your top. you were so slow, waiting for him to get completely bare so you can at least feel less stressed and do it after him but ethan was painfully slow.

ethan wanted you to look at him, look at him when he discarded his cloth but he knows you’d probably freeze at your spot if you knew he was staring at you.

both of you were now standing in front of each other, undergarments being the only fabric that’s covering you two.

he was left with his brief, his undershirt and pants on the floor. your eyes took the sight in front of you. ethan was big than you expected, his clothes coving his broad shoulders and defined muscles.

your eyes involuntarily traveled down to where something poked on your tummy when ethan pressed you close to him while kissing you.

as if you were hit on your gut, something tightened in you, causing you to cover your eyes and get to your sense. “oh my gosh, i’m so sorry! so sorry!” you apologize.

if he wasn’t catching up, ethan knew no fuck on what made you say sorry about but he knew and he laughed. your reaction was adorable, along with the reddening skin of your neck and cheeks.

“hey, it’s okay.” ethan’s breath hitches for a moment. he takes a step towards you, uncovering your eyes by taking your hand off your eyes. “want to keep going?” he asks and you just look away before giving him a quiet hum.

he’s definitely about to lose it.

this time, ethan sat himself on the edge of his bed before hiding you to follow his actions. the more his eyes scanned your body, the more ethan felt his cock twitch. he leans to capture your lips again, much softer and gentle this time. he smiles to your lips when your teeth clink.

your body was being pushed to the mattress, ethan easing you to get to the middle part of the plush. you both were still kissing, soft hum leaving ethan’s lips when you whimper and your hand comes in direct contact to his skin.

pair of lungs burned and the demand for oxygen won and so, the curly head leaned back and sat on his knees, already comfortable and very much feeling hot between your thighs.

the briefs was now too tight for his bulge to be restrained.

“i, uh,” he took a breath in from his nose. “i think i should take this off now?” if was as if he was asking you and ethan never wanted to punch himself right this moment. fucking pussy.

“yeah.” you only swallow, not really knowing what to do or say, so you just turn your face to the side and close your eyes. he wanted to take his briefs off so you’re gonna let him do it with no awkwar–

“can you stop that?” ethan suddenly says and you frown your brows before turning to face him. “stop what?”

“stop looking away, you’re making me nervous.” it was true, ethan was literally sweating. “would you rather i stare at you while you…get naked?” if it makes it slightly better then fuck yes! ethan wanted to say so bad but he just stood silent and hooked his hand to his waistband to pull and discard it down.

your breath quickened, eyes staring at his while his bored to yours. he then gout out off it before throwing it behind his back and leaning to hook his fingers to your panties.

you both did not need to talk or say anything, you just gave him a nod for him to tug it down and remove it from you. uncovering you for him bare.

the light squeak your throat made almost had the boy on top of you jump out of his own skin. “what? what’s wrong?” you found how he protectively put his hand on your hips very adorable. “no, i’m fine, it’s just– cold down th-there y’know.”

oh.

oh.

“do you want to keep going?” ethan asks again.

“yes.” he nodded at your word, separating your knees and laying on top of you. the way his touch brushed all over your sensitive skin made you shiver and inhale sharp. “okay— are you ready?” his breath was ragged and you swore he was literally trembling above you. ethan can’t help but mimic your actions and nod with you when you give him a consent.

he kept his eyes on your face the whole time when he guided himself in you, so he’s well prepared to stop if you show a hint of discomfort.

you, under him, cinched your eyebrows when you felt a pressure surfacing inside you and every time ethan worked himself on top of you, it became heavier and heavier. the curly-head was heaving, he didn’t want to hurt you so he was trying to be as slow as possible.

your nails dug into his chest, gritting your teeth and taking deep breath to stop thinking about the aching down your cunt.

you heard the first time would hurt, it will of course differ from people to people but your tight muscles did not choose you this time because this shit stings like a bitch. why the hell do quinn or other girls go crazy about this?

“you alright?” a familiar voice brought you back to reality, where your legs are spread open and ethan was still not even bottomed out. “yeah,” you half-lied. “i’m okay.”

ethan was breathing fast, not knowing if he’s supposed to tell you you feel so good or just kiss you. he just focused again, blinking rapidly and locking eyes with yours which was solely glossy with tears he bit on his lips and pushed flush against you, completely bottomed out.

your shin of cry and hiss grunt officially surfaced over his bedroom. this was it, you two were not geeky, stupid virgin town nerds anymore.

ethan pressed his forehead against yours, breath labored and eyes hazy. this feels so fucking amazing. he stayed there for a while, at least until you tapped his torso and cleared your throat. you’re trying to suffocate the sinful sound inside you but the man pressing you down was not it.

ethan whimpered lightly, bracing himself up and watching your flushed face. your lips were parted up, brows furrowed, with every slow thrust, every sigh sipped out of you.

the feeling was uncomfortable at first and ethan felt way too heavy and thick inside you. your cheeks were pink, the bridge of your nose rosy as well.. you’re so cute. and when you did not look like you’re in pain anymore, ethan pulled before thrusting all his way inside you.

you moan.

you moan and ethan feels his spine turn cold with chill.

god, he needs to hear more of that. more of you.

self-control slipping away, ethan felt his hips pick its own pace and started to fuck you senseless. you suddenly wrapped your arms on his neck, pulling him down and causing him to fall onto your covered breast, a huff leaving his lips. ethan was confused and about to pull back until he felt you shake your head.

“no, please no.” you whisper to his chest. “i don’t want you to watch me li–“ he cuts you off, pulling himself up with force that he almost brought you up with him. “i. want. to.” he says before his eyes land on your soft pink, matching with your panties he just threw away bra.

one arm still supporting his weight, the other crippled up to your top and pulled on it slightly.

his forehead was sweaty, no, his whole body was about to drown. while still his hips continued to fuck you, his hand unclipped the hook of the bra. “e.” you whine, “e?” ethan asks, biting on his lips to stop himself from pressing you to the bed. “ethan, please.” you plea to which you have no reason to but the sound and moans escaping you was hard to stop.

the name you just gave him was enough to drive him wild and ethan started to push harder that your body was sliding up to the mattress and the headboard slamming with the wall making a loud sound.

you felt unfamiliar bubble building in you and brought your hand to his chest. it still was stingy but you wanted to keep feeling his deep strokes. not until a sudden pressure swelled inside you.

“wait.” you said and it fell to deaf ears at first. “e, wait. hold on.” with every thrust ethan gave you, the pressure was getting heavier and very discomforting. if it wasn’t your legs tightening against him and being a barrier, you knew ethan would have just fucked himself in you shamelessly.

“shit, what’s wrong?” he was quick to halt his pace.

“something wrong? did i hurt you?” he was checking for any signs on your face but you just gave him a hesitant push on his abs. ethan understood something was up and you wanted to stop and so, he completed ceased moving.

“want to stop?” he was out of breath.

“i think so?” you say with a questioning manner. whatever this stupid heavy shit was inside you? you couldn’t handle it anymore. (you were about to orgasm)

ethan smiled before pressing a reassuring kiss on your forehead. “alright, we can stop.” your heart doesn’t miss a beat nor forget how your chest tighten when he kissed you on the head. you two moan and hiss when ethan pulls out completely before rolling over and laying next to you.

it was silent for a moment, shallow breath and the sound of ethan swallowing his spit filled the room.

“i didn’t hurt you too much, did i?” he asks.

oh so he noticed how you were on verge of crying. “no..well kinda.” you lay flat on the mattress, head turned to find him doing the same by staring at you. “thank you.” you suddenly say, “for listening to me.” ethan knits his eyebrows, confused with what you said before it hits him.

you’re thanking him for listening and stopping.

ethan just gives you a tight smile, coming closer to you while he’s still sweaty and naked. taking you to his arms. “and thank you for wanting to sleep with me.” he murmurs which causes you to let a soft laugh out and hum. “me too honestly.” you tiredly reply.

it’s not surprising how you both are calm right now, well because it’s obvious once you two come to the right state of your mind, it’s really going to be awkward and weird for a while but screw it. you two just fucked and it’s okay, you are friends.

it was just a casual hook up, both geeks losing their virginity and nothing special— it should have been special —so nothing serious is gonna happen after this, right?

you close your eyes at the the thought and decide to just rest a bit.

ethan on other hand nervously licks his lips, heart swelled with the fact you’re comfortably laying in his chest and low-key praying you’re not noticing how his heart was beating so fast because of you. he wishes this can actually happen one more tim—

what? hold on right there. no, wait— wait. yeah, no nothing is gonna happen between you two again and he was going to make sure of that (which of course he’ll fail terribly.)

i seriously did not notice how it got to 2.8k words — like + reblogs are very appreciated and not pressured! mwah **