#surprise!! people can be attracted to ‘ugly’ people too!!

[doeidawn]

doeidawn's kinkmas day ten ❆ ugly sweaters

KINKMAS 2024 | PREVIOUS DAY | NEXT DAY

 you and ghost bet on who can wear their ugly holiday sweater the longest. it's only a matter of time before one of you gets too desperate to keep it on. 2.7k

❆ pairing: ghost x fem!reader

❆ tags: MDNI/18+; slight possessive ghost; impatient ghost; oral sex [f receiving]; fingering; piv sex; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it); creampie

For such an intimidating and serious man, Simon was an absolute sucker for the cheesiness that came with the holidays. From the terrible movies to the cliché romantic gestures, he was more excited than one would think when it came to holiday celebrations. But, this year, he seemed interested in a particularly terrible aspect of the holiday season: ugly sweaters.

And the ones he got for the two of you certainly were ugly. Bright, obnoxious patterns that clashed, tinsel sewn in along the front, and small bulbs that actually lit up at the press of a button. They were, decidedly, terrible. And that’s exactly why he got them.

Although, he had intended for it to be something cute between the two of you. Wearing them around in the comfort of your home just to bask in the cheesiness together. What he hadn’t intended was your insistence on wearing the sweaters to a friend’s party. You thought it was the perfect opportunity to show up donning something atrocious, especially with such a big, intimidating guy like Simon. But he was hesitant, and you could tell. The man had somewhat of a reputation to uphold, after all. 

It took some convincing, but he came around to the idea. It might’ve got him some attention, which he wasn’t always a fan of, but it would be fun—and what were the holidays without a little cheer? But, to make things a little more fun, you decide to make it a bet—10 quid to whoever could stomach sitting in a sweater longer. That got him (and his competitive spirit) interested.

And, thankfully, the party was going well. Your friends were huge fans of the absurdly ugly sweaters the two of you wore. Even the people you didn’t know made a point to comment on the tinsel or lights that adorned the fabric. You loved the attention, loved seeing everyone laugh or brighten up when you showed off the terrible sweater. 

Simon was less enthusiastic. He liked the comedy of it all, particularly with your friends. But he wasn’t fond of the attention you seemed to garner from some friends-of-friends—a few guys you weren’t familiar with—who made it known how attractive they thought you were…even with the sweater. You didn’t think much of it when they complimented you, but nothing got past your boyfriend’s eagle eye. 

He sought you out like a dog, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close against his chest. It surprised you at first, especially when he held you like a vice. Slunk in the corner of the room like he didn’t want anyone else to see the two of you. 

Tension radiated off of him in thick waves, plainly evident by the way stood. “You alright?” You ask him, a hand on his chest in an attempt to ease whatever had him worked up.

There’s a beat of silence and a sigh before he responds. “Yeah,” is all he says, tight-lipped and sharp. You didn’t believe it for a second. “Jus’ want you close.”

He emphasizes the point by pulling you closer, if it were even possible. You were pressed up against his chest, his firm grip around your body keeping you in place. And when you squirm to try and get comfortable, that’s when you feel a familiar firmness pressing against your hip. 

“Are…are you hard?” You whisper the words softly for both his sake and yours. 

“You’re surprised?” He grumbles back. No wonder he was so tense.

“Seriously? This disgusting sweater,” you gesture to the tinsel-lined fabric on your torso, “and I still got you hard?”

“Well, those other guys really seemed to like it.”

Oh, so that’s what it was about. A few guys that were probably tipsy laughing about your absurd choice of dress. Granted, they were a little…personal about their compliments, but it didn’t take much for Simon to get possessive over you. The wrong guy could look at you and he’d feel the need to shove his tongue down your throat just to make a point. 

You roll your eyes at him, at the audacity to get worked up over something so minor. “Simon—”

“Where’s the bathroom in this place?”

Definitely not what you expected to come out of his mouth. But maybe he wanted the privacy. And you wouldn’t argue that he needed a few minutes to himself to calm down. 

“Past the kitchen, down the hall, I think,” you shrug, pointing in said direction.

“Show me.”

Christ. You roll your eyes again, taking his heavy hand in yours and dragging him behind you. Slinking past people and trying not to draw any attention to yourselves, you sidle down the hall until you reach the bathroom. You give Simon a look, something that said ‘hurry up and do what you have to do’, but then his hand is gripping yours tighter and he’s pulling you into the bathroom with him.

You could barely get a breath in before your back hit the wall. Simon’s body cages you in place, pressing his weight against you as his mouth finds yours in a sloppy kiss. The way his hands run over you is hurried and desperate, grabbing whatever parts of you he can to pull you closer. The bulge of his cock presses into your hip each time he tugs, grinding against you with each roll of his hips.

“Christ, Simon,” you manage to slide your mouth away long enough to catch your breath. “What’s got you so worked up?”

“‘Cause you’re hot,” his mouth trails down to your jaw, “and you’re mine,” a sharp nip of his teeth on your neck, “and I can’t wait til we get home to fuck you.”

One of his hands slides under the hem of your sweater, fingers splaying over your stomach before sliding upwards. Rough fingertips trace the line of your waist, dipping into your bra to grope your chest. His impatience extends to your clothing, trying to tug the sweater up and off your body, until you press a hand to his chest.

“Nuh-uh…” You pull your sweater back down and playfully swat his hands. “The bet. Remember?”

Simon audibly grumbles at that. He pulls his hands away from your torso, moving to grab your hips. “That’s fine,” he sighs. “Don’t gotta take it off yet.”

Then he’s dropping to his knees and tugging your pants down your body. His mouth trails kisses over the front of your panties before licking a fat stripe over your clit through the fabric. Impatience gets the better of him again, nearly tearing through the flimsy garment as he pulls it down your legs and exposes you to his hungry gaze. 

And ‘hungry’ didn’t even begin to describe him. When he got between your legs, he moved like he was starving for you. Burying his face in your cunt, lapping and sucking like your slick was the only thing he lived off of, holding your hips in place so you can’t buck away from his mouth. It was intense right from the start. 

“Si…Jesus, baby…” Your head falls back against the wall, hips arching into his mouth just to chase the wet friction of his tongue. “We’re really doing this here?”

You feel him hum a ‘mm-hmm’ into your cunt that vibrates through you. His fingers dig into your hips keeping you pinned to the wall, nearly aching in their intensity. His tongue runs flat over your clit, circling in perfect strokes, before running down to prod at your hole. His face is buried in between your legs like he doesn’t want to let himself breathe; he’s more concerned with letting you grind against his nose than keeping himself conscious.

You almost wanted to damn him for being so good with his mouth. It was a struggle to keep yourself quiet enough to not get caught, covering your mouth with your hand just to stifle the moans that slipped past your lips. He wasn’t doing a great job at keeping quiet either—he was groaning into your cunt with every other wet suck and lap of his tongue. Looking down to see him knelt between your legs was always a sight you loved to see, even now with that horrendous sweater on his body, and it rocked you to your core seeing those brown eyes staring up at you. He could devour you with his eyes just as well as his mouth.

In fact, you’re so distracted by his eyes boring into you that you don’t notice his hand slipping between your legs until you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance. It was already hard to keep quiet, but when two thick digits slide into your cunt, it was near impossible to stop yourself from crying out. A shaky gasp and you’re whimpering out for him, reaching down to thread your fingers through Simon’s hair. The sharp tug only makes him groan as he focuses his mouth on your clit. 

He barely gets in a few thrusts of his fingers before you start to tremble. The dual sensation sends sparks through you, pumping thick in your veins. “Fuck, Si, ‘m not…you’re gonna make me cum…”

“Good,” he mutters against your cunt. “Want you to soak my fuckin’ face.”

The thought was filthy—the possibility of him smelling like you around all those people—but, God, did it make you shiver. Your slick walls fluttered around his fingers, clit throbbing against his tongue, and with one last focused curl of his fingers, you were struggling to keep yourself upright as your orgasm pulsed through you. Your knees felt weak as you rocked your hips into his mouth, grinding his digits deep inside you. The thought of someone hearing your panting moans was the last thing on your mind as Simon focused on drawing out every last drop of your slick cum.

You were still quivering when he pulled back, licking his lips of your cum as he stood tall in front of you. His heavy hands find your hips, pulling you flush against his body. The taste of your cunt floods your tongue when he seeks you out for more sloppy, hungry kisses. Your hand moves to run over the thick outline of his cock, squeezing him through his jeans, feeling his responding groan against your lips.

He wastes no time freeing himself, so desperate and hurried he seems like he could rip the leather of his belt in half if he were any more needy. He’s guiding his cock to your hand almost as soon as he fishes it out, rolling his hips to grind into your palm. You grant him a few steady strokes just to hear him moan into your mouth. It doesn’t last longe before his impatience gets the better of him once again.

A strong arm hoists one of your legs in the air with a force that nearly makes you topple over. Then his cock is running through the slick coating your cunt, the head spreading you open before sliding deep inside. The stretch nearly takes your breath away, the angle of his cock hitting something soft in your core. Trying to muffle each other’s sounds by kissing and nipping at each other’s lips incessantly, swallowing his grunts while he forces breathy pants from your lungs. 

Your back hits the wall on each deep and hard thrust, pinned against the hard surface by Simon’s weight pressing into you. His cock fills you completely, the head kissing your deepest parts on each downstroke, your slick walls hugging him tight as you quiver. Your hands dig into the rough fabric of the sweater over his shoulders as you try to ground yourself amidst the sensations. 

“Fuck, m’sorry, baby, I just couldn’t fuckin’ wait,” he pants against your mouth, voice strained with the need to be quiet. 

“I know, Si. S’okay.” You reassure him between the moans forced out of your mouth. Your hands cup his cheeks as you rest your forehead against his. “You like the sweater, then?”

He smiles at that. “I like you.” A sharp thrust makes you tighten around him, drawing a gruff sound from his throat. “Want everyone here to know that. That you’re mine.”

His movements turn rough and snappy, hard and quick thrusts that turn your moans staccato. You have to bite your lip for any hope of keeping yourself quiet. He holds you tight, rough fingertips pressing bruisingly into your skin, while he ravages you with need. 

Sweat beads on his brow over his red, flushed skin. He’s panting into your mouth, straining with the effort of holding back. The heat and friction is almost suffocatingly intense as it completely floods your senses. 

“Christ, it’s hot…” he grumbles, his hips starting to slow. He leans back slightly, hands falling off of you to move to the hem of his sweater. He pulls it off in one swift movement, throwing it to the floor without a care in the world, before latching his hands back onto your body. 

You seek out his chest with your own hands, feeling the hot flush of his skin. The sinewy muscles in his body flex with each movement as he fucks you. Fingertips trace the scars that litter his skin in gentle strokes, almost reverent in the way you touch him. All it did was remind you why you loved seeing him bare—the implications of trust behind it. 

Though now it was all shrouded in a layer of lust and arousal that made your head spin. You couldn’t think straight as he bullied his cock into you with deep strokes. All that mattered was the way he felt, the way he held you tighter when he couldn’t last any longer. 

“Give it to me, Si,” you pant encouragingly between his forceful movements. 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, hot breath splaying over your skin. “Always.” He practically growls the word. 

Simon doesn’t hold himself back, slamming into you with another set of those sharp and rough thrusts that take your breath away. Grunts and moans and whimpers and every sound in between falls freely without any care for who might hear it. He pushes you against the wall with all his weight, burying himself to the hilt as his cock begins to twitch. You can feel him throbbing with each pump of cum that spills inside you.

His hips rock in shallow thrusts while he rides out the last of the sensation. His bruising grip loosens on your body, and he gently sets your leg down as the two of you catch your breath. You swallow thickly, hands coming up to rest on his cheeks as you guide his head away from your neck. He looks fucked out—pupils blown under heavy eyelids, sweaty and flushed, panting for air. You can’t help but smile at the sight.

“You lose.”

Still catching his breath, Simon gives you a confused look. “What?”

“The bet,” you remind him. You tap a finger against his bare chest for emphasis, “you took your sweater off. You lose.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “Doesn’t feel like a loss.”

No, it didn’t. The only loss he felt was when he slid out of you, pulling back so the two of you could get dressed. You were suddenly thankful that he dragged you to the bathroom; the mirror could help you at least attempt to look like you hadn’t just been fucked against the wall. You only hope your friends won’t question where you and your boyfriend disappeared to, or you might not get invited back next year.

Watching Simon shrug his sweater back on, you could tell he’d grown to dislike it. The uncomfortable fabric and obnoxious tinsel and lights didn’t make it a fun thing to wear—especially when he was still sweaty. You could tell he’d probably lose his mind if he had to wear it for another hour.

“You owe me ten quid,” you remind him. You hadn’t actually expected any payment since neither of you took the bet very seriously, but it was fun to remind him that you won.

“I give you a lot more than ten quid when we’re back home.”

To that, you had no doubt. And the impatience still buzzing off of him made it apparent that going home was going to happen sooner rather than later. You weren’t complaining. The party was fun, but you’re sure your friends would understand. 

Who knew ugly sweaters could be so damn hot?

[cherriiramen]

“I don’t see the potential in McHarrison, George is ugly anyway and Paul can do better!”

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

If requests are still open could I possibly get a fic about yuu getting boyfriends. Specifically that cute octavinelle boy or Jonathan, awh just dealing with nrcs crap and then come home to 2 cuties

Yuu and their Ugly Ass NPC S/O

I made a buncha random NPCs based on random Disney characters I hope you can tell who is who. GN, 2.7k words.

****

Yuu was the school heartthrob. How could they not be? 

They were kind, considerate And confident! They always stood up for others and themselves. I mean, they even beat several people’s asses — dormleaders even!

They're attractive and talented and smart too. Always so hardworking. It's a bit intimidating how a magicless human can keep up with a bunch of unruly mages.

Even the most tsundere students admire Yuu. Despite what the students said, a simple, kind-hearted and relaxed person was stronger than the lot of them. Something the students yearn for. A nice break from everyone's dog eat dog mentality.

Their charming laughter, their smarts, their strength… The way they smile… Their gentleness… The way they hold themselves…

So many people were vying for their affections, their attention… Waiting for the perfect moment to ask you out...

Can you imagine their surprise when you found love with a nobody?

Heartslabyul

Hatter?! Really?? That absolute kook??

He's so weird! Wears way too many hats and loves making them. His infatuation with them makes Trey's dental obsession normal in comparison.

Ace would have preferred it if you dated Riddle honestly. He can at least understand that. Also can everyone stop remarking how similar they are?! They aren't! He's normal and Hatter is weird!

Your relationship is none of Riddle’s business but he hopes Hatter’s eccentricities don't rub off on you too much. He knows how to find loopholes in every rule so he can dabble in his own insanity it's infuriating. You better not follow his example! Seriously he thought half a cup of tea meant he had to saw a teacup in half!

Deuce is happy for you! I mean at least you'll never get bored with Hatter around and his usual laughter. It is like having a second Ace around though…

Cater finds all the matching accessories he makes for the two of you so cute but he loves the drama in the school even more. Perfect romance novel Yuu with the class clown troublemaker… He's surprised you didn't get with Ace…

Trey is just happy for the two of you. You want someone zany to unwind with after a long day of having your shit together. He gets it. You two are a good fit. He hopes you can both have fun. Oh and can you ask Hatter to fix up his hat? It got a little frayed… thank you…

The school is in shock, horror, watching as Hatter is giggling and hanging off Yuu as they walk down the hall totally lovestruck. He's totally mad! Yet you love him! All of the perfect straight A students fall to their knees as they realize they're too put together for you.

What Trey surmised was right however. You always have to be your very best every day. Always be the voice of reason, always fix others’ mistakes, always set an example. 

With Hatter the stress melts away, replaced by wacky activities and childish fun. It's great to be able to drop the perfect student's expectations and be a little immature…

Savanaclaw

That dumb tiger Cheren? 

I mean he's a very nice guy. Tall, muscular, sporty… but a total idiot… 

He goes on and on about The Jungle Tiger of his people and how he's gonna be just as strong as him someday and how he's gotta work harder and there you are kicking your feet for him.

Your circle already has three idiots in it and now you're dating one? Leona remarks it seems you have a type.

He's pure muscle-y sunshine, always trying to help others…

If you liked naive goody two shoes boys so much you should have gone to RSA. Still, Ruggie supposes it's cute…

Funny even, watching you lecture him after he tried to smell sand by inhaling it. Oh poor poor Yuu, Ruggie shakes his head, you always make more work for yourself.

He and Jack are pretty similar. Work out partners even. He can admit first hand that your lover is most likely the strongest physically in the dorm and he's gonna surpass him some day!

There's times where your dates with the tiger are interrupted when you bump into Jack and the two end up challenging each other, throwing off your plans.

Not that you mind though as you get to admire his body and competitive spirit as he constantly looks over for your approval doing his best to impress you.

Jack will admit… It does feel a little weird how similar they are at times… Is he your type…? Huh…

You don't care what they say though. What they don't see is how much your boyfriend helps you behind the scenes. Helping you relax after a long day or checking up on you after school drama or how he plays seems to cheer you up.

Tutoring him and making sure people don't take advantage of his kindness is not the burden people think it is. It's an act of love. And you love your dear himbo tiger boy.

All of the muscleheads in Savanaclaw seethe… They just needed to be a bit stupider.

Octavinelle 

I'm sorry you have two lovers?? Twins??? The STINGRAYS??? CLAUD AND DARREN?

That was the exact reaction of everyone in the school when they heard news but especially Azul.

Your taste in men has to be a form of self harm, Prefect they swear—

They're just so… weird…

The kind of creepy twins in every horror movie. Always together. Always seems to read each other's mind. Holding hands in hallways. Always in sync. Finishing sentences. Matching smirks with empty eyes. The whole shebang.

And there you are! So kind and cool and just… you! You can fight yes, but unlike the Leech twins rumors, everyone is in agreement that those two have killed before. Look at them!! 

Do you have any self-preservation skills, Yuu? Are you safe? Blink twice if you need help, Jade says, he'll even do it free of charge. Hell, Azul’s gonna send his own twins over for a wellness check soon.

Is the shrimpy into scary twins? This is just perfect teasing material for Floyd. If you liked scary twins you could have at least asked them out or something. Those two just seem so… boring…

So secretive and polite-acting with all their fully thought out schemes– Where's the flavor?! Jade is in agreement. At least he and Floyd have distinct personalities.

Azul is just very baffled. Good for you Prefect but have you thought this through…? It's just you're the typical perfect crush people write in their diaries about and you're with them? It's oddly intimidating. Is there more to you he doesn't know?

A total powermove to have two scary boyfriends in this damned place. Despite all the rumors though, the two love you with their full hearts and are happy sharing. They both take such good care of you and no one bothers to take the time to get to know them.

They are both so vastly different yet similar. Mischievous and kind. The rumors mean nothing to you when they've been your number one supporters through the school year. Sides, if anyone upsets you they'll take care of it…

Scarabia

Ibadat?? The total birdbrain? Okay, yeah, seems you do have a type for cocky idiots given your friend group. 

The parrot is a very confident, extroverted personality with a bit of a mischievous streak… a real chatterbox and never thinks before he does anything. 

He is a bit of a scatterbrain and tends to get wrapped in so many things at once, yet is a very good schemer…

Jamil doesn't have any strong feelings about it. You're happy. That's all that matters. However he does like that since you’ve been dating him he causes less trouble in his dorm now. He can just go to you and ask him to sort him out.

Kalim finds it sooooo cute however and seems to be more excited for your relationship than either of you. A magic carpet is one thing– but being carried and flown around??? That's so much more romantic!

Students are flabbergasted on how you would want someone so forgettable as him. He barely stands out from most of the other students here… Doesn't seem to have any major achievements either.

What they don't see is the bird that takes out some of his feathers to decorate you with when you mention not having any special clothes. They don't see the praises he gives you. The lectures you receive when you push yourself too hard. The confidence he instills in you. The way he does all he can for you, always at your beck and call.

He never lets you doubt yourself for a second and you never doubt him either. 

Pomefiore

Raven… ah…

An interesting one at least. They are always a bit of an enigma among most students. Fashionable, beautiful, confident, yet mysterious. One of the best alchemy students in the school.

It should be no surprise that two beautiful and accomplished people get together, so why was it a surprise?

Well not one person can name anything they know about Raven. They hold themselves high, yet shy away from others. They are so prominent yet elusive. You may see them roam the halls yet never know where they go. They are elegant, yet have the most animated expressions. 

Does anyone even know their favorite food? Favorite color? Has anyone even heard them speak?? Why do they have so many oddities on them at any given time?

Vil doesn't care at all about the rumors. As housewarden, he checks over all of his dormmates. The birdfolk preens themselves well. They have good hygiene, good confidence, good grasp of their identity and who they are, and they're hard working!

He's never had to lecture or guide them once. With their attention to detail they always seem to notice what he expects without him having to say it either. So what they keep to themself? Eveyones allowed their privacy.

Rook is almost jealous. You get to understand the most mysterious student on campus? The one that captured their heart? You get to see them behind closed doors and know them on a personal level. Maybe even hear them speak if they do at all? Oh, how he longs to uncover their many mysteries himself… Ah, but what a beautiful love story! The trust, the passion. He is rooting for both of you. 

Epel doesn't trust it one bit. Nope. Nuh uh. Sorry.

No one even knows what they get for lunch. They strut down hallways with all eyes on them yet are quick to flee when spoken to? They are seen all across campus yet no one knows any one place they frequent? And they alway suck up to Vil like ugh!

They're bad news Yuu! No one good has that many secrets! The campus all agrees and it's totally not ‘cause they're salty!

Fools. If only they knew how sweet they were. All those times they saw Raven ‘wandering’ was them making their way to you. All those trinkets were offerings of courtship. The place where they disappear to is your dorm.

They're confident because they know they're talented. They flaunt because they're beautiful. People just want to pick them apart and know everything about them for the sake of their curiosity and not because they care, unlike you who doesn't expect anything out of them. Why wouldn't they open up to you?

The Fair Queen was said to have a raven that accompanied her everywhere she went, staying by her side matter what. They intend to show you how deep the loyalty of a raven goes. 

Ignihyde

FEAR???

Idia never thought he'd meet anyone more socially awkward than him. Fear leaves his room less than him!

The imp-man always looks like he's on the verge of a panic attack, he shakes every step of the way, everywhere he goes, and he's known to not even get a few words out. He wasn't even on the roster, he's that distant!! He lives up to his name for sure.

Even when you walk down the hall with your boyfailure in hand no one believes for a second you're together. You're just being nice and helping him go out!

So many students refuse to believe you’re with him. They're better! They can easily impress you more than that imp! And Fear tells you they're right… Boo! Bad Fear! You're wonderful!

Seriously if Idia realized he had this much Of a chance he might have considered taking it…

Ortho as a first year has seen him a bit more since he's friends with you and likes him a lot! He and Idy would be friends!! 

Everyone doubts his capabilities and mind. Tearing down his appearance with his horns and messy clothes. 

You don't let anyone talk cruelly about him and give your group of first years THE scariest lecture of their life when they dare comment anything negative about him.

If people did pay attention they'd know that Fear would come out of his room a lot. Whether as a bird that flaps around campus or a stray that frequents the gardens.

It's not his fault he has a severe stutter. You were the only one who bothered to wait for him to finish his sentences, even when the simplest ones took minutes. You never made fun of him or even brought it up.

They don't see that he loves you to the point of invention. How he makes so many things to make your life a bit easier here. How he frets over you and listens to your worries. All the little animals he becomes to cheer you up or look out for you from afar. 

The people who put him down never had a chance with you to begin with.

Diasomnia

Griffon…? Who is that…? Wait, did that statue just move…?

It was only revealed when Malleus of all people met him first. He invited you to a late night stroll to show you some of the wonderful gargoyles his dormitory has.

He was so proud to show you this new gargoyle he only recently discovered here. As he rattled on about this interesting find you paused. “Wait, that's not just a gargoyle… Griffon???”

The gargoyle suddenly moved at the sound of your voice, yawning a bit. “Oh hey Yuu…” he said, reaching over to drape over you. 

“...a talking Gargoyle…?” Your lover? 

The school had a small storm overhead as Malleus pouted. You're telling him there was a gargoyle student here and you didn't tell him? When you know he likes gargoyles? How dare you! He's so betrayed for a bit but his attitude changes when he gets to talk to Griffon.

Not only are they a gargoyle– they're a descendant of the goon race. The very goons that worked under the thorn fairy and protected the castle with their lives! Why he's honored… he even joined his club too! And he says the other gargoyles on campus say good things about him!! He can talk to them?! Oh Yuu, he wishes nothing but the best for your relationship!!!

Lilia is surprised he didn't see them sooner! Just like the goons he knew. Honorably sticking to the shadows. They always watch over others and save their energy to put their all into whatever task they must do when needed– you are very lucky indeed.

Griffon makes Waka-sama happy so he approves fully! Furthermore, goons are very loyal to Briar Valley and he's so happy you're recognizing the glory of fae culture! He can tell you even more about it later!

Silver has a new napping buddy… Griffon’s always so tired, saving his energy for when he needs it most. When he's caught napping in the rain the gargoyle stands over him to shield him from it and get some much appreciated moisture.

Griffon guards the school. Perched high in every hallway, outside every building, every classroom he attends. He steps in when needed and that's how you both met someone who was giving you unnecessary trouble and the statue from above swooped down to intervene.

Students wonder how it even works out. He's asleep almost all the time. He doesn't do anything . Even when he's awake he's always tired. And he always gets in the way of the class fights to break them up! A real stick in the mud.

Though it is true he is always tired, he is willing to defy his own nature to stay awake enough to talk to you. He is happy to leave his perch to be with you as well. It is a goon’s job to protect what they love most dearly. You are exactly that.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

"Surely, there must be a reason for your visit," the villain purred. They put their elbows on the table and their head on their hands, cupping their own cheeks. "Unfortunately, I don't believe you're visiting just to see my pretty face."

The hero cocked their head.

"Why not?"

The villain looked effortlessly attractive. They always did, but today from this angle, in this pose, with those clothes…The hero’s brain betrayed them over and over again. Every now and then, their thoughts circled around their nemesis, even if they didn’t get to see each other that week.

Or perhaps, especially then.

"Because you only ever show up when you want something from me," the villain said. Although their smirk was of flirty nature and although their hand was reaching for the hero again, the disappointment in their voice didn't go by unnoticed.

It was true. In the same sense that avoiding eating the forbidden fruit was true.

The villain touched the hero's shoulder. "...you got some lint here..."

It was a poor excuse to touch them, but the hero preferred it when their nemesis had to justify it. They preferred building walls around themselves and denying this part of their personality — this horrible part that wanted the villain.

They enjoyed the flirting. The soft touches. But there couldn't be more than that.

"You know I'm busy," the hero murmured. They grabbed the villain's wrist before they could pull back their arm. "But I can totally understand if you miss me. I will arrange something."

"You make me sound desperate."

"Aren't you desperate for me?"

"Oh, please. As if I want you in that way," the villain said. Under the table, their foot was already trying to find a way to the hero's bare shins, contradicting their words easily.

Admittedly, the hero couldn't help but feel guilty. It was true that they had come to the villain once again to beg for information. It was also true that they avoided them unless it was absolutely necessary.

It was a stupid habit. A pathetic one. Something the hero had picked up in their childhood, something that had manifested when they had decided to become a hero.

No one was allowed to get too close. Least of all their supposed nemesis. Even if that nemesis wasn't a threat on the battlefield anymore. For now.

They couldn't recall when the flirting had started. The villain had always been someone very talkative, someone who could talk for hours. And apparently, in some way, this had rubbed off on them.

"Everyone in this city wants me in that way," the hero mumbled.

And it surprised even themselves that they’d said it out loud. For whatever reason, they tried to get some jealousy out of the villain. It wasn't fair to the villain, the hero knew that. It wasn't fair to flirt and make all sorts of promises, just to disappoint them in the end.

The hero was a mess, they could admit that much. People getting too close always hurt.

It was always too painful.

"I suppose they want all the perfect parts of you. The flawlessness." The villain smiled and swayed their head from left to right. The hero looked at them, trying to ignore their increasing heartbeat. "I bet no one wants all those ugly details. All those late nights, those bloody hands, that emotionless shell around you…"

Suddenly, the hero's eyes widened.

They hadn't come here to be humiliated. Or to be insulted. They knew they very far from—

"But, just so you know. If I was into you and if I wanted you in that way, I'd adore those parts. I would adore and cherish them. Because I would have chosen you with every single thing that comes with you." The villain winked and the hero's throat dried out. "You are not closer to perfection than any other human being. And I am probably the only person in this city who not only notices but also accepts this."

The hero's hand was in theirs and they led it to their lips, pressing a soft kiss to their enemy's knuckles.

The hero couldn't think. They couldn't…could not really…

"But we were talking about something else, were we not?" the villain asked.

The hero couldn't answer. They felt like crying.

"The information you wanted?"

"Oh…yeah, yes. Sorry. Long night."

Both of them knew that was a very cheap lie.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt ~Dead on main~Someone is walking over my grave

Jason sits on his tombstone and thinks about..something.

He lazily washes off the dirt that has been stuck on his army boots after the rain. It covers the year of his death perfectly. Grinning, he puts out a cigarette by using the mentioned stone. The cigarette butt throws between ugly funeral wreaths.

Danny: Hey, asshole, stop it!

Jason turns around. A very angry twink is rushing at him. The notorious crime lord does not have time to react when a fist hits him. Red Hood falls into a puddle. Shit! His favorite leather jacket!

Jason: What the hell are you doing?

Danny: No. What the hell are you doing?! Just because a man is dead doesn’t mean you must not respect him. You’re in a cemetery. Behave yourself, shithead. Or I’ll teach you manners.

Jason: You’re not from around here. Right?

Danny: So what? I doubt it’s normal to wipe your feet using a tombstone. Even in Gotham.

A malicious gremlin folds his arms on a chest.

Jason sits in a puddle more comfortably and pulls another cigarette out of his pocket. Damn, it’s wet.

Jason: If you were gothamite, I wouldn’t have to explain. It’s my grave, idiot. I do what I want with it.

Jason throws useless source of nicotine at his photo with black ribbon. The person who convicted him takes a couple of seconds to compare the vandal to the buried one.

Danny: Aw, shit, man. My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt your break.

Jason’s eyebrow rises in surprise. From the outsider he expected more screaming and running. Not…apologies.

Jason: Yeah? Tell that to my favorite leather jacket. Now you can bury it next to me.

Bad Jason, bad. That’s not how normal people talk.

Danny: I’ll make amends. Tomorrow, okay? It’s my first working day. I’ve decided not to take my wallet. Need to find a safe route.

Jason: First day?

Danny: Yes, new cemetery guard here in the flesh. But I have not had time to meet all of inhabitants. Mistook you for a bad boy in a story. Well, it is your fault too! I understand you’re upset about death or maybe about the color of wreaths but please just put all the shit in the trash. I’m Danny, by the way.

Jason: Ha, I was wondering why there was no regular dude at work. Probably my neighbors drove him to a breakdown. He was an asshole, so no regrets.

Danny: Do you think so? Mrs Dent didn’t seem restless to me, she was quite nice.

The guy didn’t seem to catch the joke. Or was crazy. Why are all the hot people in Gotham are? Doesn’t matter. Why not try, right?

Jason: Don’t worry about the money. You can repay me with something else.

Danny: So you regenerates the suit? Cool. What do you want?

Jason: Um, I don’t get it, but… as compensation, I’m wanna have your number and one date.

Danny: Sure, why not.

Danny looks at the headstone.

Danny:Can you go outside the cemetery...Jason? The place is romantic, I agree, but where I grew up, it’s not customary to bring a mate at the place of rest until you meet parents.

Jason: Seriously? Cheesy horror movies didn’t teach you not to mess with zombies?

Danny: Well, I’ve never had a partner who was attracted to my brilliant brain. It must be pretty nice. And I don’t mind a couple of love bites, zombie boy.

Danny’s playfully batting his eyelashes. Jason can’t help laughing.

Danny: The less fair opinion among my friends is that I’m just brain-dead idiot. But I think they just don’t understand the benefits of adrenaline addiction, miserable humans. *pretends to wipe off a tear*

Jason *pretends to sniff*: Aw, hell, you really are a brainless doll, aren’t you?

Danny: Even so, it just means I’m perfectly safe.

Jason: Don’t think so. I want a piece of you.

Danny: Then don’t be afraid that the feeling is mutual. My teeth are also quite sharp. And when I’m haunting, it’s not easy to get rid of me.

The cheeky smile has given way to a serious look.

Danny: If we don’t get along, tell me right away, I’m not good at reading other people’s emotions.

~~~~~

Red Hood may be the son of the greatest detective but blinded by love Jason realizes that his boyfriend is quite dead only after a couple of months. He used to think Danny was a little…weird. Well, who in Gotham isn’t? It wasn't a problem. But during a funny fight about ignoring Danny in favor of a conversation with Tim , Fenton goes through him to grab his phone and then shouts that 'ghosting him is racist'.

Jason was delighted that he was able to hide his surprise. His boyfriend was too sweet, but sometimes insecure. Jay didn’t want Danny to start being cautious. Evidently, Honey thought from the first day that Jason knows. Let him keep it that way. Nothing has changed.

But now Danny’s promises to haunt Joker for the rest of his life if Jason wants it stopped being just super-hot flirt. So Jason need to make sure he doesn’t sic his darling poltergeist or whoever Danny is on someone. Even if it sounds good.

~~~~~Family dinner~~~~~

Dick: How did you two meet?

Jason: That’s a great story. My brave man beat the vandal who was messing with my grave.

Bruce: What? Who dared?

Danny: Jason, stop. It’s embarrassing.

Jason: No~ My family needs to know that chivalry is dead. My hero. Jason can’t resist a kiss on the cheek.

Danny: Taking this opportunity, I want to thank you all. It means a lot that you accepted Jason even not fully alive.

Alfred: Nonsense. Of course we..He’s family, no matter what.

Danny: Until the death separates us. Even at a wedding, love is promised only for a while. In parenthood, they do not take any oath about it. You’d be surprised how little past relationships can mean to people and how easy it is to hate what we are.

Danny: Damn, I ruined the mood, didn’t I? Sorry.

~~~~~

Jason: B, with all due respect, back off. You should ask Constantine how to help Danny if his family becomes a problem. Don’t mark my babe as a problem.

Bruce: I asked. And he laughed at me and said that you are the one who need protection. not him. Your Fenton is dangerous. Ghosts of such power only emerge in cataclysms after a large burst of energy or reach this level after centuries of battles or cannibalism and battles.

Jason: Seriously, old man? My boyfriend’s not gonna eat me. I’m not Red riding hood and he’s clearly not pretending to be my grandmother.

~~~~~~

Danny: Hi, honey. what’s new?

Jason noted with satisfaction that Danny had eaten all the supplies he had prepared for him.

Jason: Nothing, but now I have an idea for great Halloween costumes for us. They are gonna drive the old man crazy.

Danny: Did you fight again? What is it this time?

Jason: Guess what, now B’s worried you want to bite off my dick or something.

Danny: First, eew, disgusting. Don’t talk about our intimate life with fucking Batman. Why would he think that? I like you whole.

Jason: Whore?

Danny: Idiot.They don’t even sound alike.

Jason: Just admit that I am an eye candy and kiss me already. I need a break from the madness of my family.

~~~~~

Later Danny blackmails Constantine for information about the interrogation from Batman.

Then he sends a short message to the group chat : Tell the future father-in-law that while Jason can cook, he is safe from me.

The chat explodes from questions of Batclan to Bruce. Jay has great brothers and sisters. Danny knew their chaotic energy could be relied upon.

~~~~~

In the morning Jason yells at Tim. Why the hell did Replacement put "Friends For Dinner" from The Land Before Time as his alarm melody?

~~~~~

Bruce *is suspicious of the ghosts at the wedding*.

GhostWriter: Do not think that we like it. The boy is involved in his own version of Twilight. Oh Ancients, I hope the Ancients don't know about it.

Clockwork aka one of Ancients: Come on, that’s sweet. And story will have a happy ending. I guarantee.

~~~~~

Jason's in a date simulator with no chance of losing when everyone thinks he’s in a horror game. Is Danny dangerous? Yeah. Did he hunt when they first met? Who knows. The main thing in the middle of the conversation Danny realised he found a creature with a similar sense of humor. So that made Jason 10 out of 10 aka soulmate and he would kill for him.

[animeyanderetalker]

I think this will be a Gojo/Geto/Sukuna thing. If the Darling is insecure about her looks, they will fuck her infront of the mirror/s and forcing her look at herself. Maybe even fuck her, when she is leaning on the window or even Infront of their followers/minions.

Tw: Nsfw, non-con, dub-con, mirror sex, humiliation kink, power display

I 100% agree with Sukuna for the point of fucking his darling in front of his minions. It's just such a power display for him, knowing that he can bully his cock inside of you and have others watch as he rails you into the ground all whilst knowing that no one dares to speak up or voice their uncomfortable feelings with the situation.

I take it one step further and say he'd even fuck his darling in a bloody battlefield of his enemies or even other women who threw themselves at him, offering themselves in hopes of mercy, protection or simply to seduce and use him. If he were to consider you ugly and worthless you would have ended up like the dead bodies around you, dismembered and severed with limbs scattered in all directions.

By all means, sweet-talking and Sukuna are two words that do not belong together and he would certainly degrade you verbally just as much. However, if he tells you that your looks are alright you will stop moping around like a bratty kid and if he has to fuck you to hammer that into your brain he will gladly do it.

Mirror sex I can see most realistically see with Gojo. He would never expose his darling to the eyes of others, especially when she's naked and vulnerable beneath him. Now, considering that Gojo attracts people left and right it is not unsurprising that you might start to get insecure about your appearance because you realise that theoretically Satoru has a lot of choices besides you.

Gojo, as a response when noticing your insecurities, would amplify his affection tenfold. That's when mirror sex probably comes in and with the shit ton of money that he has I wouldn't even be surprised if he designs an entire room filled with mirrors and then makes love for you for hours in that room and no matter where you look, your reflection will always look back at you.

Whilst he wouldn't ever let anyone see you naked I can imagine that in case someone attempts to seduce him and convince him that they're better he makes an audio the next time he makes love to you and then plays it to the other person, clarifying that they could never elicit such sounds from him like his darling.

Geto is kind of tricky because he really struggles to accept the fact that he is in love with his non-sorcerer darling. Similar to Sukuna he isn't the kindest with his words either as he actively tries to put you down so that you feel like the worthless monkey that you are. As his followers share his beliefs I do not believe that he would fuck you in front of them.

There could be a point made for him doing the dirty deed with you in front of other non-sorcerers because to him they are disposable and even more worthless than you are. However, even that is rare and would most likely be used when he really wants to humiliate you or punish you in which case the non-sorcerer being forced to watch might be someone far too close to you for his liking.

At one point he would switch his feelings as he is forced to embrace his feelings more and more. He still is far away from a Prince Charming for obvious reasons as he will never view you as an equal to sorcerers but you are no longer in the same category as the humans he views as monkeys. Then he would be more confrontal if you were to harbor insecurities because he still chose you, meaning that you should at the very least realise that you are more special than other non-sorcerers.

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

What animal do you most resemble and why?

So just so yall know before you go to your piles. The animals in the pictures might not be the creature that you most resemble. I am using the Untamed Spirit Animal Oracle in this reading. Please take what resonates and leave the rest behind but always be open to new perspectives about yourself.

_________

PILE ONE

Astrology: Pisces, Sagittarius, Aries

Song: all i ever wanted by Mazie

Vibes: 🖤💙🔭✈️🕷🦋🕶🎓🐾🌏🌊🫐🍙🧊🎧♟🦽💎⛏🛋📘✒️💤♿️🔊♠️🏁

Cards: Lion, 5 of Cups, 7 of Wands, The Void, Karmic Relationships

Hi, pile 1! Welcome. These cards tell me you look most like a lion. I can see some of you have prominent noses that make your face very lion-like. All of you have the most piercing fierce eyes. I also see you have soft hands and nice nails that you probably get done regularly. You are legit gorgeous and you have this extensive hair routine you do almost every day. You might wear a bonnet to sleep or you have a silk pillow case to protect it. I can also see you are surprised by these compliments. You have some self-esteem issues that frustrate you a lot. These beliefs you have about your physical appearance are built around the opinions of others. First off, they only shit on you cus they are jealous. These cards have a weird undertone of relationships so I think maybe you had a partner at one point who was SUUUUPER jealous of how beautiful you are. Wow, they are pressed about it. They probably said some extremely mean things to you about your appearance that stick with you even though it doesn't look like they are around you anymore. I hear them saying you have RBF or something. You have literally nothing to feel insecure about my dear.. Like you complimented yourself in the mirror around this person and they like immediately tried to knock you down a peg. Dude, that person is SO ENVIOUUS. Don't listen to their words. You need to see through their words to the true emotions behind them. Don't let these jealous people dim you light, girl!!! Their words are not based on reality. It is distorted by their emotions. Just know when they look in the mirror all they hear is their momma tellin them they're ugly as fuck. They were just projecting their insecurities, baby.

PILE TWO

Astrology: Taurus, Leo, Aquarius

Song: Body Talks by The Struts, Kesha

Vibes: 💛🧡❤️💙🎁🧿💰🌅🏖🚦🚚🚎🎯🎭🏅🍹🫐🍂🌊🌈🌏🍁🐠🫂🤖🥶😰

Cards: Badger, 7 of Pentacles, 5 of Wands, The Seven Star Sisters, Jump In

Hey there, pile 2!! You have such an interesting energy. The animal you most resemble is the Badger. So from what I'm reading from the other cards this is less of a physical resemblance and more of an attitude resemblance. The way you hold yourself is like you do not give a fuck what anyone thinks about you. You had many people around you growing up who were considered "conventionally attractive" and for a long time, this bothered you. I think sometimes it does still bother you but you have grown your self-esteem a lot since you were little. You got tired of fighting for attention real quick. You realized how dumb the competition of appearance is and began to explore your expression more for fun rather than to fit in. You have a unique way of expressing yourself, especially with your make-up. Dark eye shadow is your signature look. It makes your already really unique eye color pop like nothing else. You dress very alternatively compared to your siblings and/or friends. The style does have a touch of whimsicalness to it too. I see some of the people who picked this pile have a curvy body type. You keep your hair short for the most part because it's easier to manage while short. You truly have such a fantastic head-turning style. I really do love your energy, my dear. Like, wow you are fucking awesome. I would have looked at you as a kid and wanted to look like you so bad.

PILE THREE

Astrology: Scorpio, Libra, Gemini

Song: The Middle by Jimmy Eats World

Vibes: 🤍🖤🔎🖋🧷📓🩺🔬🔌📷📼🎥🎹🎼🎤🎧🎬🌪🐚🪨🐇🕊🦢🐈‍⬛🕸🐰👟

Cards: Toad, Fox, 8 of Swords, 2 of Wands, Double Mission, Deep Cellular Healing

Oh, pile 3. This is gonna be a kind of shadow work-y kind of reading so just be prepared to be called out okay? Trigger warning for SA. You make yourself ugly on purpose. You hid your beauty from yourself. I dunno exactly what you do to hide it from others but I see you wearing clothes that keep your shape a secret. You do your make-up in a way that accentuates the dark cycles under your eyes. You make yourself look sick and dying. You force yourself to believe you resemble a Toad. I don't blame you, my friend. You went through something truly terrible that made you feel ugly so you express it outwardly constantly. You believe you are ugly because of what happened. What they did to you didn't taint your beauty, homie. You aren't dirty. You aren't hideous or unattractive naturally. You are so scared of what happened, happening again. It makes you put up these defenses in-order to feel safe. My friend you are already safe without these defenses. You might be doing way more harm than good, my friend. If you stopped hiding your true beauty from yourself, you would more resemble a Fox. These cards are encouraging you to heal from what happened to you mentally. Your reaction to what happened isn't wrong but you shouldn't destroy yourself because of how others treated you. You are stunning and so naturally gorgeous. I hear you saying that your feelings about what happened don't matter. That is a lie you tell yourself. That is a lie someone else told you. What happened to you was truly awful. What they did to you was disgusting but it doesn't make you disgusting. It makes THEM disgusting. What THEY did is disgusting. You are beautiful. You are so drop-dead, star-struck glamorous! You aren't a toad. You are a fox. Please embrace your authenticity because you deserve to feel good. You deserve to see your body for what it truly is.

PILE FOUR

Astrology: Cancer, Capricorn, Virgo

Song: Honey And The Bee by Owl City

Vibes: 🤍💖💛🦦😜👄☀️👟🐁👙👑🎂🐱🐻‍❄️🌙🦭🌸🌼🍣🍰⚾️🎗🎟🎲📿

Cards: Otter, Queen of Cups, The Well, A New Earth, Called

Pile 4. You are so fucking cute. Like so cute. Like I feel your energy and all I feel and think is "Awwww~ What a cuuutie!". You most resemble an Otter. Which in my opinion, ARE SO FUCKING CUTE!!! I see you like to color your hair in pastel colors and it's SUUUPER long. Like you have been growing out your hair for a while now. You have this cute little button nose and these super pretty dark eyes. Ohmygods you have no idea how much I think brown eyes are the prettiest eyes. You put a lot of creativity in your outfits so you always look so snatched and dolled up. You like the long flowy dresses and shirts that billow in the wind. They make you look like a fairy. You always smell like incense and sea salt. You probably love swimming or surfing or some kind of sport you play in the water so you are very lean. I see you might be pursuing some kind of profession in the beauty industry. Either that or you just look like a model and people think you are one. You wear these pretty flowers in your hair that give you this gorgeous halo of lavender. You have been absolutely blessed by Lady Aphrodite. She loves you like her child. She blesses you with fashion sense and soft features.

[meyousing]

𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠, ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝

𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: gojo is always, always getting the wrong idea when it comes to your needs, and worries that you express, but it's just so difficult to correct someone who never thinks that they can be wrong. 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤: yandere gojo x reader, nsfw, mentions of past kidnapping/captivity, cheating and manipulation. all sexual nsfw under the cut! <3

Three docile raps against the bedroom door, surely muffled to his ears on the other side from the sheer gentleness of your knuckles, if he was even nearby to begin with. It was almost as if you didn’t want to grab his attention, but you couldn’t wait much longer, these same four walls were beginning to drive you stir-crazy, and the ugly plush toys that he provided months ago could only entertain you for so long. 

“Mhm?” You heard him hum, followed by a quiet thud that you imagined coming from his leaning against the door. 

You jolted softly in surprise, not expecting him to be right there so soon. But you could easily see it; his lazy posture as his torso went limp against the wood like a petulant child–he certainly portrayed the immaturity of one most days. Even as he hummed you could detect a smirk on his lips; promptly shutting your eyes to block out that mental image and how mocking it felt even without the direct intent to.

“I need to pee” you lied, picking at your fingernails and twisting the material of your nightgown nervously, hoping the falsehood would suffice and he would relieve you of the suffocating claustrophobia brought on by this unchanging environment. 

Eventually, you began to understand that Gojo liked having you here as his little side piece; he saw you as nothing more than a pretty plaything, to keep only for himself, even though you were certain that he made time within his busy, busy schedule to partake in his own trysts with all kinds of other people–your thoughts were only made so much worse when he would come home smelling blatantly of another person’s fragrance, or looking a little more dishevelled than he normally should have, even after a genuinely busy, action-filled day. 

 You, on the other hand, were just too pretty to be shared or merely ogled at because he just knew that anyone with eyes would try and claim you for themselves–you had to stay stowed away here, with him, because that could not happen. Yet, that hadn't ever happened back when the Gojo that you knew was actually rational. Nobody had ever approached you when they could very clearly see you two walking hand-in-hand, arm-in-arm, so how could you truly grasp the likelihood of someone else ‘claiming’ you? That would have to be a possibility left entirely to mystery; a thought for you to dwell on for hours when there was nothing else to do while alone in this room. 

Having at least expected a verbal response before the door opened, you stumbled back helplessly as he swung it out suddenly, pressing his weight into the grip he had on the doorknob and standing before you. Your eyes slowly moved up to his, noting the lack of eyewear and cursing the way your stomach knotted when the natural attraction of his features drew you in like a lamb. Of course, the smirk that you suspected him to have was evident–even widening as he noticed your roaming eyes and the way you paused upon the sight of him. As if he wasn’t cocky enough. 

“Are you sure?” He asked mischievously–enragingly.

“Yes.” You tried to watch your tone, tried not to mutter the word in a way that portrayed how annoyed you were from this already too-long interaction that was intended to be as short as possible. But you knew that there was a semblance of snark in the way that your pronunciation of the last letter was rather sharp; a short hiss behind your teeth.

Gojo’s head tilted playfully and his eyebrows lifted, as if his face on its own was saying “I don’t think so!” while he leaned in closer to you, bent at the hips so his nose was immediately before yours without reducing his posture too much. Arrogant.

“I don’t think so,” he retorted lowly. Oh, how much better that he actually said the words too, joining the silence of his expression! You resisted the urge to snarl at him as you made the connection, growing impatient.

“I think I would know if I had to pee, Gojo.”

“Nope.” The way he popped the letter p as he said that made you cringe away, yet he was unrelenting; “I know exactly what you’re trying to do.” His smirk graduated into a grin, and he spoke oh-so confidently.

Your eyes widened only slightly. You weren’t technically doing anything wrong, at least not that badly just yet; lying to him about needing to use the bathroom when you truly didn’t. But he managed to instill guilt within you, making you feel bad for doctoring the truth. How could you go about asking him to just let you out of here for a bit without imagining him taking offence? Or being met with an immediate no, which would crush your spirit too soon. Your mind was still relatively strong even after being here for what felt like quite a while, and you wanted to hold onto that.

“You’d know ‘if you had to’ which means you don’t really need to. So… what is it? What do you really need from me?” He continued and leaned even closer, his words so playfully murmured in such near proximity to you.

He was getting the wrong idea. You knew this, but he was stubborn and thought he knew better than you at the best of times, so if you didn’t rush to convince him a bit harder without admitting the blunt truth, you’d be fucked.

“I-I need to use the bathroom, please,” you said quickly, unable to control the little stutter and immediately seeking a change in his gaze to see if he caught on. 

Of course, he did, chuckling softly under his breath and closing his eyes as he did. You’d only dug yourself deeper.

He stepped forward and you stepped back, effectively trapping yourself between him and the wall behind you as he subtly kicked the bedroom door closed. You felt your throat swell as his hands slid into his pockets, the newfound silence weighing down heavily upon the two of you. Gojo couldn’t help but remedy that quickly; couldn’t help but keep talking.

“I know you too well, Y/N. I think you’re feeling something else down there that you’re a little too shy to outright ask for, aren’t you?”

No, no, no. Absolutely not. 

“N-No–” You struggled to say this out loud though, and that one moment of hesitation did you in. When dealing with someone who always thought that they had the right answer to everything, there wasn’t much you could do anyway. 

“Of course, you won’t admit it to me.” He threw his hands up nonchalantly as if he were just a little exasperated with your apparent reluctance. “I’ve already told you to stop acting so shy… I mean, it’s cute and all, but I like hearing it from you. Doesn’t it feel dirty to be so honest with one another?”

His arms crossed over his chest and he simpered down at you again, taking your lack of a verbal response as a sign of that alleged shyness you seemed to have. 

“Ask me. I want to hear you say it.”

You remained still and your eyes stayed widely trained on him, unwavering despite your internal rage at the way he was so confidently wrong. What’s worse is how you were stuck now, and whatever would follow was inevitable. Would it be easier to just go along with it, despite the way that the mere idea of that was sickening?

“I…” you started but failed to continue when you could see how he watched you in a way that felt rhetorical, like he ‘knew’ that you would just be ‘too shy’ to get the words out. So, so annoying. This was proven further by how he could only giggle and give you no time to finish a word before chiming in once more.

“You…” He drew the word out as you paused, “...caught me in a good mood.” 

Was this statement supposed to preface his decision to suddenly whisk you into his arms and escort you the short few steps to the bed? After placing you down there, he wasted no time in getting on top of you, knocking your knees open with his thighs so he could slot his body between them with enforced ease. Now he was too near. You could cope with his intimidating tilts closer while you stood inches apart without distance ever being shut all the way, but the feeling of his clothed chest rubbing against yours now was a bit much; too indicative of what you could only dread to imagine coming next. Your heart began to race, and he could feel it. 

“Aw, you still can’t help but get a little nervous being with me, can you? How cute, really.”

While his tone was playful, the flash of sin that slid over his gaze didn’t go unnoticed, and sent an anxious chill down your spine. You couldn’t even find room to retort, instantly feeling your muscles go taut once his long fingers traced up your side, slipping under the material of your gown with an ease that came naturally. He felt the way that you tensed, and you felt a twinge of regret for your decision to go braless earlier when his fingertips glided over to your breast so he could tease your nipple, staring into your eyes as he did–watching for a reaction.

The sensitivity inflicted by such a tender caress made your breath catch. When envisioning your fate before; when you had been caught so soon within your lie, you knew that you were done for but you hadn’t imagined that you’d be fucked so literally–grunting softly in uncharacteristic frustration when he pulled away for a moment. 

He raised an eyebrow upon hearing the sound, suppressing a chuckle as his hands moved down to grab the bottom of your gown and start pulling it off of you. You couldn’t help but assist him, keeping your gaze aside so you wouldn’t have to see the knowing look he was surely giving. It was so awful, so horrible that rather than feeling sickened by going along with it, you could only feel internal anticipation. External as well, you supposed, given your lack of hesitation with helping him get you bare. You followed along with ease, like the lost, unguided puppy that he always made you out to be. 

“Rest assured, I’m all yours,” he said with a tone that you knew he intended to make sound genuine, though there was something underlying within it, like he didn’t really mean what he said at all. He would still screw around on you, fuck other people then come home and assert himself over you, disallowing you to even think about doing the same thing, to even think about other people. You felt yourself grimace as you thought about this, frowning while your nightgown was fully lifted up and off of you. He took notice of your expression, and rather than showing concern, he displayed intrigue. 

“Do you not believe me, baby?” was muttered with a ridiculously babied tone that you hated when he used it.

Ugh, stop with that. No. You didn’t believe him. But what would happen if you said that? There was rarely ever room for you to be defiant, Gojo had way too much power over you in so many ways that your obedience went without question, and you didn’t want to find out what he would do if you ever deviated. But right now it felt different—you had a very, very small window of opportunity. For once, you felt compelled to take it. 

“I don’t.” 

He hardly raised his eyebrows, only looking mildly surprised; as if he wasn’t very surprised at all. It was unnerving… what, had he expected you to say that? He, who was so used to hearing immediate fan-girly-toned exclamations of 'Yes, Gojo!', wasn’t even a little shocked by this? He lifted himself off of you a bit, your lower bodies still mostly in contact while he supported himself with hands gripped easily upon your knees.

“Well, why not?” A finger drummed idly against your perched leg, soft reverberations resonating through your femur, making you twitch slightly as the air and room surrounding you two began to feel heavier, and more tense. His tone itself was neither heavy nor tense, yet you felt a sense of dread anyway due to the unknown. Gojo had way too much power over you in so many ways that your obedience went without question. What would happen if he didn’t like what you had to say? You figured that he would certainly dislike a hesitant response after expressing such an atypical opinion, so with that added pressure you sputtered out the first thing that came to your mind, muttered like an absolute fool:

“Y-You always come home smelling like some cheap perfume, and I’ve seen lipstick marks on you before that obviously couldn’t have been from me!” You rambled this like a little outburst, sounding like you were finally relieving yourself from the burden of a thought that’s been weighing on your consciousness.

It only made Gojo smile. Not his usual cocky grin or his knowing little smirk, but a genuine, horribly attractive smile.

“You don’t have to be jealous.”

Of fucking course. You weren’t jealous, per se, you just felt that your being kidnapped and isolated into one room of his house while he forbade you from interacting with any other person may have been a bit unfair when he, on the other hand, could come home all leisurely with extremely blatant evidence of–at the very least–some foreplay-equivalent contact with other people all over his skin and his clothes, if you were to be so presumptuous. How to say this to someone who is so selectively dense, though? 

“It’s not that–”

He shut you up with a kiss, so it didn’t matter. It was a kiss that was neither messy nor rushed like his typical first resort when he wanted a quick fuck, but rather one that was too precise as he tilted his head to deepen it and eased his body back down on top of yours again. His hands slid down the tops of your thighs so he could hold you against him with the utmost affection at his fingertips. It made you shiver, you couldn’t help it. You also couldn’t help the way that you seemed to return his kiss, even as your body remained a bit wound from such an unusual situation and sensation. He pulled back slowly, intimately, almost causing you to follow his movement to prolong the moment. You weren’t dishevelled enough yet for that, but with Gojo, there was always a way for him to gain your reception eventually.  

“Honesty, Y/N.” His voice was a little raspier when he spoke. It sent something hot through you, and you swallowed the sudden lump in your throat when his eyes stared into yours, so heavily lidded, yet you could still see their gorgeous hue peeking through his depigmented lashes. You couldn’t shy away this time, because he was so close and on display. You also still couldn’t find a way to deny your natural attraction to him, unable to avoid falling victim to it in every instance similar to this. But now, with his intentional tenderness, it was that much more difficult–you were so much more malleable, you could tell. 

His demand for honesty made you nod in obedience. This, in turn, made him grin and bring a hand off of your leg so he could run it through your hair. 

“It’s really cute, you know, how you couldn’t outright ask me for this.” His fingers caressed your cheek before gliding down to your neck with a feather-light touch. “But I’m looking forward to the day when you can.” 

His hand remained light, hovering above your ever-rising pulse while he brushed his lips against yours without fully connecting them for a second time. Your breath shuddered when he did this–why did you feel such immense disappointment when he didn’t kiss you again? 

You couldn’t understand what kind of influence he managed to inflict upon you this time, what was so different at this moment–how it drove you to lean up and close that gap to your liking, satisfying the suddenly dire need to feel the plush of his soft lips properly. This managed to surprise Gojo, and he chuckled against you, his hand pressing down further on your skin only so he could stroke it, not adding much pressure for now. He waited until you had your fill, kissing you back until your neck unhinged and you rested against the pillow on your own time. You were the one to pull away, accompanied by a little smooch sound once you two parted fully. 

“Better.” His tone was one of satisfaction, him evidently taking this as your reception to his wish for more incentive on your part; more honesty. 

His hand was faster than you expected when you felt it return to your breast, tweaking an exposed nipple with a bit more force than before, causing a whimper to catch in your throat as you subconsciously arched into the rougher touch. This flustered you, and he took advantage of your state by bringing his free hand between your legs, lifting his hips off of yours so he could slide your panties aside. You only realized this had happened once a small bit of air brushed along your growing wetness, making you shiver and look up at him in mild surprise. He could only offer a conniving grin.

“You want me to touch you here, don't you?” His question was further punctuated by the tracing of his index and middle fingers up and down your pussy lips–not touching anywhere that would stimulate you yet, even in spite of how this still made you shiver. He wanted you to say it, to admit it, to outright ask. You were unfortunate enough to be getting so worked up by mere foreplay that you could no longer find it in yourself to even try and deny him, not when he looked down at you so knowingly. Like always. 

“Y-Yes” you admitted it with a quiet tone, sounding just as shy as he kept making you out to be. Maybe he was right after all, which bothered you. Feeling bothered hardly lasted though, because the immediate gratification from two of his slender fingers pushing into you made your breath catch and your thighs twitch. 

“Good.”

The short replies were odd for Gojo; he who could hardly go a moment without yapping every thought bobbing around in his seemingly empty but deceptively intelligent mind. You were left to believe that such immediate responses were all he could muster while he analyzed you, taking in every bit of information that he could; your physical responses to each unique touch, the pace at which you would reply, how much mental clarity you had left–in other words, the state of malleability you were in. It seemed that you had become putty in his hands now, quite literally. 

It took him no time to find your sweet spot, and his allowance for your time to adjust was minuscule once he began to stroke it with intent. Your body stiffened due to the infliction of such immediately intense pleasure, but it seemed that he was only laying it on heavy to act as a distraction. It worked, because you didn’t hear the shuffling sounds of material being slid down, and your eyes had fallen shut for a few seconds in bliss so you couldn’t see the way that he took a second to align himself with your pussy before pushing his cock in alongside his fingers. The intrusion made you gasp, your eyes shooting open to confirm the sight of him penetrating you in such a way. He caught your eyes with a chuckle and a devious little smirk, teasingly rutting his hips into you for a moment so there would be greater pressure applied now, making your body shake helplessly.

“I’d never fuck anyone else like this, you’re special to me baby.” 

He failed miraculously if that was meant to act as some sort of consolation towards your earlier expressed doubts of his loyalty. But you didn’t care about having your woes consoled as much as you would if you were in a clearer mind state, because the feeling of him now pushing deeply in and out of you right now was too good, too satisfying toward the arousal he had managed to build up within, even after you had started this interaction off with no such feelings, none other than annoyance and impatience. Now, you craved more; you craved release. That was all you cared for.

He rocked his hips in a way that was so precise, the blunt tip of his cock pushed his fingers harder into you and each meaningful thrust made you feel positively numb, made your mind grow delirious as he was all you could focus on. You could only wonder how it may have felt for him, though he showed no extra indications of enjoyment aside from his breaths coming out more ragged than those he exhaled previously.  

Not much time passed before you somewhat adjusted to the feeling, your thighs trembled around him yet he maintained a pace that was just enough to keep you on the cusp of a crest, each thrust he gave was accompanied by soft moans of need from your throat. He tutted after you moaned a bit louder and gave him an exasperated look; your eyes communicating a silent plea for more. 

“So greedy now, maybe your change of heart wasn’t so good after all” he teased, but before you could form any response he leaned down to kiss you in that same intimate way as he did moments before, thrusting into you a little faster and groaning against your lips at the same time. His own sound of pleasure sent something down your spine, made you squeeze around him, and you didn’t resist as he went to press his tongue into your mouth. You brought shaky hands up to his shoulders, holding onto them and taking the material of his shirt within your grasp as you became more and more worked up, needing an outlet to exert your buildup of elation against.  

As his mouth continued to caress yours, you gasped around his tongue when his thumb which was attached to the hand buried inside of you snuck against your clit, nudging it in time with each bump of his cock inside of you. The addition of sensations finally gave you that extra push, and as you pulled his shirt into your fists and clenched your pussy around him tightly; you finally came, hips squirming and back arching as each wave of delight washed over you. Gojo’s lips stayed on yours as you did, and he matched each writhe of your body to their fullest, maximizing how you felt with his body too. Amidst such a fuzzy state of body and mind, you could vaguely feel his hips stuttering against you before his warmth flooded into your womb, making your body feel even hotter, and forming a knot of risky excitement in your stomach as he chose to stay buried in you even as he finished too. 

When you ever-so-slowly recovered from the high, unlike any you had experienced before, he too moved slowly, except for the way that he pulled back from the kiss. He did it differently than the last; the previous was intimate from start to finish, but his departure now was rushed, as if he was timing it intentionally–ensuring that you were still in that blissed-out state of mind so you wouldn’t be able to question the depth of his next words:

“Now… you can stop questioning who I see, and what I do in a day.”

You heard what he said, sure, but your primary focus was on regaining proper breaths, in and out, while your lower body still twitched and tingled in the delicious aftermaths from such a tall height of ecstasy. So, you didn’t really hear what he said. You even nodded along with him like an idiot, tossing an arm over your forehead as you favoured focusing on slowing down your rapid heartbeat. You couldn’t see it, but he smiled in satisfaction and took another moment to get a good look at you and your vulnerability. Then you felt him leaving your body, a muted whine of dismay hiding behind your lips as you felt so empty now, aside from the sensation of thick heat from his release as it pooled at your entrance, threatening to spill out if you moved an inch. 

“Seeya!” 

Your eyes hardly opened as you looked up in confusion, and all you caught was the sight of his back as he closed the door behind him post-exiting the room–noting how he managed to fully dress up again in what must have been only a few seconds. The familiar click of the lock being instated rang out quickly, with his distancing footsteps growing even quicker; hasty, as if he had somewhere very important to be now. 

Was he off to meet someone else, perhaps? No bother to you, at least not yet. This was becoming a regular occurrence, him touching and filling you until you were reduced to a breathless mess, then leaving you with your thoughts, and the feeling of recovery following such rapture soon warping into bile-stirring regret; making you sick to your stomach after you realized that he had somehow hypnotized you into letting him use your body, as if there weren’t countless others he would be doing the same thing to later if he hadn’t already within that same day. He would make you feel so special, and tell you things you must have wanted to hear, yet it was all for naught when you understood that you were just part of a category for him–you were nothing special. 

Fortunately, you were still latching onto those final moments where you could feel remnants of exaltation, so the inevitability of those woes you’d soon care so much for was put on hold… for now. 

© meyousing 2023. do not share/export my work onto any other platforms. do not translate my work.

[almightygremlinblob]

A Honey Trap For The Butterfly

Nanami Kento was everything you needed in a therapist, only as long as you ignored the sinking feeling in your gut.

Even tho there's nothing describing the act of s*x here, it's still a yandere fic - so minors and those not comfy with yandere stuff DNI and have a nice day! 🫶🏽

Word Count: (will update when life stops life-ing lmao)

⚠️Content Warnings⚠️: UNBETA'D, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Yandere!Therapist Nanami Kento, Gender!Neutral Reader (and no bits mentioned), Modern!AU, Hurt/Comfort, Soft Yandere, behaviour that SHOULD NOT be tolerated irl, Nanami says some very comforting shit to manipulate you, no curses.

⚠️Further Content Warnings⚠️️: Unhealthy power dynamics, HEAVY and subtle emotional manipulation, implied stalking, mention of sexual activities, professional boundaries are OUT the window.

When your gut tells you something is wrong, one tends not to believe it at first, and this causes you to dismiss any further warnings.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Sorry, I-I'm just..."

"There's no need to push. Only if you're ready."

"No, I-I'd like to."

Therapy was a tricky thing. There was the problem of getting the right medication for you. There was also the problem of finding the right therapist for you. Which is why some people - like you - search for a very a long time until you finally found one that clicked. Nanami Kento, who was practically everything you needed in a therapist.

"The nightmares are about your family, yes? They say nightmares are ways for the mind to release overwhelming emotions. Can you tell me more about them?"

"Y-yes, I...these nightmares are always the same. My family talking about me behind my back, it's...I feel alienated."

"Hm...it's no wonder these nightmares always coincide with upcoming family gatherings." He scribbles something down, and turns his full attention towards you. "If you're okay with sharing, what makes you think they're alienating you?"

"I...now that you mention it Doctor, it does seem to coincide, but...I-I don't believe I've mentioned...how did you-"

"Ah, it's just an observation." He waves his hand dismissively. "And I told you, you can call me Kento."

-------

"I-I'm so sorry!" You apologize profusely, embarrassed and just a little defeated when you turn up short at the cashier of your favorite coffee shop. There's a brisk walk, and someone familiar drops some change at the cashier for you. Though being payed for was a surprise, the person paying was not. It was Nanami, who you seemed to run into a lot. So much, that bumping into your therapist outside of your sessions was almost the norm. Something about living nearby.

"Oh, Doctor, I-I'm really sorry about this!"

"Oh don't fret, it was only a few bucks." He offers his hand. "Come, sit with me."

You're taken aback. It's not like you didn't WANT to. Nanami was a very attractive man; well built, broad shoulders, and such a handsome face. But, still, he was your therapist. There is a very faint alarm, all the way at the back of your mind, that makes you feel just a little bit uneasy at the proposal.

"A-are you sure this...I mean, i-is this okay?"

"Of course." When he intertwines his fingers with yours, his face and eyes and words are completely welcoming. Laced with nothing but care in order to hide the ugly side just waiting to devour you.

"It's just coffee, love."

-------

-------

"I think last session was a very eventful one. You did a lot well this week. I'm quite proud of you."

"Still...I-I don't think it was right for me to just cut everyone off like that. Now I don't have anybody..."

"You have me. They don't care about you." The fingers that brush your cheek are too gentle for how dangerous they feel. "You know this...it's why you came to me in the first place. They never cared, not truly. Not like I do."

"I know it doesn't seem like it, but you made the right choice. Now..." His warm and strong hands linger on top of yours, as he hands you the paper for your medications. "See you for lunch after?"

"I just can't believe they'd do that to me..." You try and keep yourself from crying any more. "They're my family. Why would they go around spreading rumors like that! I nearly lost my job..."

"Hey, hey...don't worry about them anymore, okay? Just leave them behind." Nanami gently cups your face with his hand. "You don't deserve to be burdened with dead weight."

"It's okay. You'll be okay." His eyes go over to your lips, as he tilts your head to better align with his. The room suddenly feels awfully quiet, too constricting, when his lips meet yours. "I'm so proud of you. You know that, right?"

-------

"I think I've come a long way." You sigh and laugh softly. "I'd like to celebrate but...I-I'm not sure how. I'd like to minimize my spending..."

"Well, I'd have to agree, you ARE making fantastic progress." He takes your hand in his. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to celebrate it with you. I have a few ideas we could try."

"Oh, of course!"

"Date night." He brings your knuckles to his lips. "Your apartment."

Nanami stayed over that night. Worshipped your body as if he was made for it. He was a wonderful lover but, the entire experience left you feeling wrong, somehow.

-------

"I don't know what to feel...I just...they're all dead. My family, they're all..." It was all too much, and Nanami wraps his arms around you. "I know what they did but, still, I..."

"Oh, love...it's okay. Let me handle everything; planning, funeral expenses. Everything."

"Kento, that...that's too much-"

"Nothing in the world is too much for you, my dear." He holds your face when you start to cry again. "I would do anything for you."

When he looks at you, his eyes show a devotion and adoration so strong it borders insanity. You'd never expect this 'gentle giant' to be the one that caused your family's deaths. It was nothing you've ever seen from him, and it unsettles you.

"Anything. You know that, right?" He seals it with kiss on the lips, just a bit too harsh, just a bit too possessive. "Stay here, with me - where you belong. Don't worry anymore."

"You're home now."

When your gut tells you something is wrong, one tends not to believe it at first, and this causes you to dismiss any further warnings. It is just one of the many ways that humans self-sabotage. Though, for many manipulators, the intention is to make their victim do so by putting up a welcoming and disarming front - a perfect honey trap.

.

.

Writing this was a TRIP man, ughk. It's so tame and light as a yandere fic but something about writing subtle manipulation just makes my skin crawl the most. 😭 Anyways, hope you enjoy! ✨🫰🏽

[holywizardheart]

Astrology observations :)

Don't copyright my work

The pictures aren't mine

Please enjoy the reading

~Aries venus females can get along with men easily

~Capricorn moons are very responsible when it comes to their work and job.

~Mercury/Chiron negative aspects can dislike their voice and how they talk generally

I also can add 2nd house chiron there

~People who have Venus/Neptune hard aspects can attract liars and gaslighters in love life

~People with libra placements are flirty without effort, especially if it's in Mercury

~I don't know but people who have Mercury/Pluto esp. Negative aspects are damn too secretive even in little things

Also, they are the best manipulators and they can use something against you so be extremely careful with them because I experienced this shit

~People with Sun conjunct Mercury always want to be the center of attention in the company. Sometimes it really annoys me like please give me a chance to speak my mind. Also, I noticed that they can be very sure about their opinion and make you want to believe them.

~People with Uranus aspecting personal planets are not judgy and critical in my experience. I kinda feel appreciated around them.

~I met so many girls with Venus Saturn negative aspects and sometimes they can hate their appearance and think that they're ugly in some way.

~Leo venuses are very very needy as an Aquarius venus it's kinda tough for me to get along with them

~Women with Venus/Pluto aspects give a vibe of a jealous girl song by Lana del Rey

Also, they could be sexualized by men a lot

~Guys with Aries placements sometimes like to bully people for no fucking reason

~People with Virgo placements could be criticized when they were just a child

~People with Capricorn placements are always busy and have a lot of responsibilities in their life. I'm always surprised by their patience and consistency like damn if I were you I couldn't handle it.

~I don't know but in my opinion, Capricorn moon people often experience difficult childhood. When I ask them about the story it is usually very sad and depressing.

~Also about women with Venus/Pluto aspects especially negative ones can often experience jealousy of other women and vice versa

[escarlatellie]

here with you ; ellie williams. (4.5k.)

⤿ f!reader, college!au, drinking + kissing, fluff fluff fluff <3 lowercase is on purpose , was blasting ceilings by lizzy so excuse the title

⤿ you're invited to another one of dina's off-campus parties not long after finals, where you meet a pretty girl who miraculously knows your name. away from the hustle of the actual party, where people are plastered out of their minds and making a ruckus, you and this pretty stranger get to know each other a little and earn yourselves a place in the other's heart.

“if you want anything just let me know, okay?” 

dina’s hand is warm, splayed across your lower back as she guides you away from what had to be the noisiest place at the party. it’s no surprise she attracts such diverse groups of people, given her gregarious personality and hard-to-overlook kind of beauty.

you would be lying if you said you hadn’t had a crush on her when you first met her; it’s dina, how could you not? thankfully, over maybe a year of getting to know her, you realized she wasn’t exactly your type and that she was far too head-over-heels for her on-and-off partner to even think about you. honestly, she never shut up about the guy.

“got it. thanks, dina.”

you definitely were not going to mention the almost completely assured possibility that you wouldn’t see her at all for the rest of the night. thing is, when you’re the host of parties like these, you tend to get thrown around a lot. though she doesn’t really seem to mind, since this is, at the very least, the fourth party you’ve been invited to since finals ended (which was around a month ago).

she hums passively at the acknowledgement, then gestures fluidly towards the rest of the room. there are a few people situated on her couch, a couple of them already putting on a show for the others while a few sit alone, sipping their drinks with reckless abandon. you’ve never gotten completely plastered at one of dina’s parties, always the type to stay back and help her clean up if she hasn’t passed out or gotten herself sick, but unsurprisingly, there are always those who’ll take any chance they can get.

“mi casa, su casa.” she sings, then she’s gone. 

left alone, you can handle yourself. why the hell would you come here if you couldn’t? you head towards what you remember to be the kitchen, but right now looks like a completely unprofessional bar complete with its own bartender—who you belatedly recognize to be jesse, dina’s on-and-off partner—in search of booze. 

said bartender nods at you when you catch his eye, pouring whatever’s on the table for tonight into a very typically red party cup—on the house, since you get special privilege—and sliding it over to the edge of the counter. whatever’s inside sloshes dangerously, threatening a mess which’d only add to the ugly stickiness of dina’s countertops, but you grab and take a whiff of it before it can tip over. 

“what, don’t trust me?” jesse ribs over the music—he speaks of your tentative sniff—, which is, as you’ve just realized, getting progressively louder. 

“if i say anything,” you mutter, which gets you his typical jesus christ, these people, kind of laugh and he leans back against the counter, right next to you. 

head crooked to the side slightly, you look him over. objectively, you can see why he and dina mesh so well; they’re both unbelievably attractive and complement each other’s personalities perfectly (from what you’ve seen, at the very least). their pretty much daily arguments aside, you can tell they love each other and only want the best for one another. that said, you can only imagine what’s running through his head right now.

“she’s not going to get shit-faced drunk,” he mutters, and that’s your cue to leave. you know he’s trying to console himself more than anything.

“no, she’s not.”, you respond in kind, patting his shoulder with just as much care as one would handle a two-hundred-pound gorilla, before pushing yourself up off the edge of the counter and walking out of the kitchen. god knows he could spend an hour sitting there talking about her; you’ve had enough of that for, quite literally, the rest of your life. 

the sole of your left shoe sticks to the ground a little as you walk, and you thank your past self for owning a strictly-for-parties pair of converse which were, sadly, a little too worn in for your own good. sneaking a glance into the main hall, you catch a glimpse of your best friend seated halfway up the stairs chatting with someone—maybe a senior? junior, at the very least—who’s got a guitar case slung over her shoulder and the most unruly head of short, auburn hair you’ve ever seen. 

dina’s gesturing wildly at the front door, likely having gotten into an argument with said stranger (except it looks far too fond to be serious), when the two of you make eye contact. her eyes are a strikingly pale kind of green, piercing through whatever weak defenses you’d put up for the night in a very relaxed fashion. she’s got this look on her face that screams uninterested, which is quickly swapped out for a look of rapt attention at your own once she realizes you don’t actually plan on looking away. 

because man, she’s hot.

it’s just then that a presumably tanked freshman crashes into you and spills the contents of whatever it is they were drinking all over you, effectively shattering whatever that was. really, you would be grateful for it—something to spare you the embarrassment of looking too interested in someone way out of your league—had there not been the undeniable presence of cool, once-iced liquor spilling down the front of your printed tee. 

“oh, fuck,” you curse, nearly missing their hurried apology before they barrel out the front door.

this wouldn’t be the first time. you sigh, reluctantly slipping away from all the noise, away from the pretty stranger, to deal with your problem. usually, you’d have an extra top shoved haphazardly into dina’s closet, something you could throw on in the worst-case scenario, but laundry day was just yesterday and all of your stuff was piled on your bed back home. already you could feel the liquor causing the shirt’s fabric to stick, leaving an icky, gross feeling that was begging to be cleaned up. the humidity from everyone’s breathing was not helping.

you set your cup down on a random table (never to be seen again) as you make your way to the bathroom. you wouldn’t be surprised to find the door locked, having been an unsuspecting party crasher one too many times in your first and some of your second year, but luckily the room’s unoccupied—not for long—and you slip in and lock the door behind you after waving off a concerned glance from jesse, who’s very slowly making his way to his girlfriend. no surprise there. 

“oookay, fuck.” you curse, flipping the light switch and nabbing a couple (a lot) of the mini towels out of dina’s probably way-too-expensive towel rack and pressing them to your front, hoping they’ll soak up some of the leftover moisture, at least save you from the mortification of showcasing to everyone your chest and abdomen.

it doesn’t really help.

again, not an irregular occurrence, so you’re not too worried; dina’s typical party etiquette has ensured that everyone here will leave you be and mind their own business. that doesn’t help your pride, but you concede to stepping back out and flipping the light switch off behind you as you make your way to the front.

this time, when you cross the main hall, dina’s gone and so is her friend. accompanying disappointment comes the ponderance of whether jesse found dina or not and if the pretty stranger has left, but you remind yourself you’ll find out later—probably near midnight when people start to filter out for the night and you’re tasked with cleaning up—, however frustrated that makes you, given the fact you’d lost a chance you probably never had in the first place. 

you pass a group of what look like sophomores playing beer pong against seniors—or maybe even graduates?—on your way out, and silently curse the growing pool of booze dripping on the floor right next to the table on your way outside.

the door is wide open, so being engulfed in cold air on your way outside is no surprise. luckily, the weather is calming down a little after a gruelling winter, so there’re only a couple of piles of leftover snow and the breeze doesn’t serve as an immediate freezer. however, your damp tee is anything but a savior and causes an eruption of a ton of goosebumps across the pane of your chest, stretching as far as your shoulders, which are only covered by the loose fabric of your top.

you’re not sure what you expect to see when you turn the corner to dina’s garage, but seeing her and her boyfriend sucking face is absolutely not it. dina’s got him pressed right up against the garage door, and you’re pretty sure that if jesse weren’t sober out of his mind he’d be giving into every single one of her wordless demands.

you slip past easily, far away enough to go by soundlessly and completely bypass the two’s freaky-ass sixth sense. the back gate is just as well-managed as the rest of the house and opens quietly, in no contrast to the backyard itself, which is empty and well-kempt. you know only you and a select few people are actually allowed into dina and her parents’ pretty backyard, so peace is expected and welcomed. the breeze is also blocked by the house, which is nice.

there are a couple of flowers blooming already, and their scent wafts through the air, bringing a natural sort of calm. the yard is illuminated by the house—light dances in beautiful patterns against the greens and greys that make up the garden—, but so is the relaxed silhouette of the same pretty stranger you saw less than ten minutes ago. this time, she’s hunched over in one of dina’s ugly bright-green lawn chairs with a guitar seated in her lap.

you consider her privacy and the fact that maybe she doesn’t want company right now or that she’s too busy with her music as you make your way over—aside from those ugly lawn chairs, really, there’s nowhere else to sit—but then banish your hesitancy with the acknowledgement that this is just as much a space for you as it is for her. 

the chair scrapes against the patio as you pull it out, just far away enough from the brunette to make yourself seem open and friendly, but respectful of her space. you worry the cheap plastic is going to snap beneath your weight as you sit down, but it holds well and serves as a final, much-needed resting spot for your already sore feet. once your rustling stops, you hear the gentle strum of a guitar and realize the girl hasn’t stopped playing.

you relax further into your seat. 

closer up now, you have the chance to really look at her. her hair’s pulled back now, half-up half-down, a lot less dishevelled than she’d been when you’d last seen her. 

looking lower, she’s wearing a low-cut short-sleeve and an unbuttoned flannel long-sleeve. skin-tight, ripped jeans line what look like toned thighs and spread legs, stained black and white converse completing the look. her fingers move deftly between frets, over strings, and you just barely catch the edges of a black and white tattoo peeking out from beneath her sleeve. she’s got really nice hands, you think, just as pretty as her face.

“i can feel you fuckin’ staring.” 

her tone is accusing, but not necessarily malicious or irritated; she doesn’t even look up at you when she says it, adjusting her guitar in her lap as she works at whatever she’s trying to play. her voice suits her, too, you think, and shift a little where you sit at the thought. 

“sorry. you’re really good at guitar.” you mutter, earning an amused chortle from the girl across from you. it’s a pathetic excuse—you’re well aware of your own unsubtlety—but there was something there, something between you two, not long ago, and you’re not just going to let it slip away. the alcohol’s got you pleasantly buzzed, and you’re sure that if you were a little soberer, you’d be embarrassed. 

“you think so?” 

she looks up now, a brow raised. you catch the slit in her right eyebrow, cocked slightly as her gaze rakes over you. she’s got this lilt to her voice that feels like it means trouble, however, it does nothing but pique your interest a little more. 

your response of “mhm. you play real nice.” earns you another glance over.

“i’ve seen you around a couple times. you’re a friend of dina’s, right?” she questions, looking between you and her instrument as she tunes what she seems to think is an out-of-tune string. her leg—the one which has the least contact with her guitar—bounces gently against the patio floor, and it takes you a second to realize she’s seen you around before and remembers you.

“yeah. best friend? i think? she likes to call it that.”, you joke, shoulders trembling slightly at the very unwelcome entrance of another breeze, carrying in the temperature from the front into the back. the sound of the stranger’s laugh is already addicting, especially when it feels genuine. that’s sometimes hard to come across, and you’re already starved for it even though you’ve been speaking to this girl for like, a minute.

“i’ll tell her you said that. shouldn’t she have an extra top for you or something?” 

“she does, usually. kinda forgot to leave a couple here.” you hum, pointedly ignoring the third glance over the girl’s given you since she’d first laid her eyes on you. her lips are pursed slightly, gaze trained wholly on your face whenever you speak yet it wanders when silence stretches between you two. her eyes are locked on something behind your head when she speaks again.

“are you two a..?” 

“thing? no, have you met jesse?”

“dina’s got a ton of other people that aren’t jesse, babe.”

your cheeks warm at the pet name, and you realize she’s right. dina’s had a couple of other flings outside of jesse; every time the two of them break up, she runs off to someone else before realizing she doesn’t want anyone but him. then, suddenly, without your permission, your mind wanders at the idea of someone wanting you the same way those two want each other. 

“no, we’re not,” you shake your head as she looks back at you. briefly, so momentarily, you question whether she actually likes girls or not—and if it seems like you do—so add a quick and easy-sounding, “think i liked her a year or so back, though.”

the stranger nods, and you’re suddenly hit with the fact that you don’t know her name. 

caught in your own head, you don’t register her leaning back in her seat, guitar following her movements, pressed right up against her abdomen. you do though, notice her shrugging her long sleeve off and balling it up in her free hand before it's carelessly thrown your way. your rapt attention towards her movement is pretty much the only reason you were able to catch it; it’s warm from her own body heat in your cold hands. it’s pretty obvious what she wants you to do with it, but you wouldn’t want to impose so you just stare at it.

“put on the damn sweater. it’s cold.”, she mutters, and you can’t help but bite back a smile at her tone; what was likely intended to come across as gruff and demanding sounds pleading and mildly concerned. you unravel the garment and pull your arms through the sleeves, a clean, earthy scent enveloping your once-shivering form.

“thanks, uh..”

“ellie. williams. ellie williams.” she stutters out, which is pretty cute.

“ellie. thank you.” 

that only gets you a grumble of acknowledgement before she’s back to her guitar. strands of her hair are slowly slipping out of her half-updo, and it only makes her that much more alluring. you’re well aware of the fact that you’re staring again, but she doesn’t seem to mind all that much as she starts up another tune. this one sounds far too smooth, too practiced to be something she even needs to go over, and belatedly you wonder if she’s trying to impress you. 

you two sit together quietly for god knows how long, accustoming yourselves to the other’s presence with ellie’s music writing over any awkward silence, and you drown in the admission that you could sit like this forever. the party inside is dying down, with a good chunk of attendees deciding to turn in early while the rest are either still on adrenaline highs or settling down for a couple of drinking games. 

“where’d you learn how to play?” 

you find yourself speaking before you can even think about it, and she doesn’t give you room to regret the interruption with the soft, loving little smile that breaks out on her face when she considers your question.

“old guy. his name’s joel.” 

you can’t help but smile at that; whatever harsh exterior she’s going for really isn’t working for her right now. almost every time she’s spoken to you, it’s either been with a smile, a laugh, or some poorly-concealed interest. joel, you think, taking that name and storing it for later, if there ever is a later with this girl. ellie.

“his guitar, then.” you hum, because it can’t be that much of a secret if a signature that deeply resembles his name is etched into a spot just above the pickguard. “you mind teaching me someday?”, you add, because there won’t ever be a moment where you don’t want to be talking to ellie; what you aren’t expecting is for her to look up at you with the same fond look that she’d looked at her guitar with just moments before, and nod. christ, you think, she’s so..

“we can start today, if you wanna.” she offers, and you try your very best not to seem too eager when you say yeah, for sure, but realize you’ve failed and that the pretty stranger–pretty girl sitting across from you doesn’t really care. she’s taking her guitar off her lap and making her way over to you before you can even second-guess yourself, crouching in front of you and raising an inquisitive eyebrow on her undeniably attractive, stupid fucking face.

you kind of want to kiss her.

you’re already imagining a future where you and ellie are, at the very least, friends—if not more, but you don’t want to get your hopes up—and are out like this every day, hanging out, being comfortable in each other’s presence because there’s no way this feeling of security is normal with someone you’ve just met unless you’re soulmates of some kind.

ellie makes a gesture, lifts her arms as a means of telling you to lift your own, and you swear its the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. you lift yours and her hand snakes its way forward, pressing against your right shoulder so you’ll lean back a little. she’s strong, you can tell that much—as if the muscle lining every inch of her visible skin wasn’t enough—, and her touch is searing hot, leaving fire in its wake. 

she sets the guitar in your lap, spreads your legs gently by the knees, and waits expectantly with her hands out for you to offer up your own. you find yourself staring as she takes your hands, lithe, strong fingers beneath your own, lips parted slightly in both concentration and excitement as she positions your left hand under the neck, fingers splayed just slightly against the frets. she realizes you already have your other arm around the body, but reaches over to ghost her fingertips against the skin of your elbow anyways. 

she smiles. “try it. use your thumb. don’t break my guitar.”

the look you give her prompts another huff of laughter, but she seems to have enough faith in you to believe you won’t. it doesn’t seem like she plans on moving, though, since she’s still crouched in front of you and when you mutter a retributive “it’s joel’s,”, the pretty girl in front of you leans forward and rests her open palms on your knees, effectively cutting off any sly remarks.

you’re probably never going to forget the way her eyes light up when you strum it the first time, and use your very limited guitar-playing knowledge to press against a couple of the frets in succession and play what sounds like a semi-well-practiced harmony.

“holy shit,” she breathes, and you find yourself feeling bashful regardless of the fact you were only, like, thirty percent sure you could pull that off again. however, you manage to contain any sighs of relief and only exhale a chuckle in response. 

her eyes are still on you, you know, and you start absentmindedly fidgeting with the neck and its frets; her attention is everything you could’ve ever wanted, but her gaze is weighed and it’s making you feel a little self-conscious. you’re not starved for it by any means but it has been a while since someone has stared at you like this, awestruck out of their mind. it’s funny because for some reason ellie’s making this seem like such a huge deal when she’d spent the past, what—you’ve lost track of time—thirty minutes? an hour? playing a bunch of fucking songs on this old guy’s guitar, and—

“i had no idea you could play guitar..” 

her voice tears you out of your own head, and suddenly she’s closer to you than she has been all night. you lock eyes when she mutters your name, alarmed at the fact she knows it—you reason that she knows dina and you must’ve been mentioned in passing at least a couple of times—, and feel chills go down your spine, butterflies erupting in your stomach. i definitely want to kiss her.

“i can’t,” you huff, desperate to ease out the tension, “you outplay me by—”

“can i kiss you?”

her cut-off is abrupt and unexpected, and you swear your heart has never stopped like this. it’s such an innocent question, a plea of consent laced with insecurity, something the girl you’d seen in the main hall earlier into the night hadn’t even seemed like she possessed, but it’s so inherently ellie you don’t know what to do with yourself. so you nod. a quick tilt to your chin, up and down; you can’t trust your voice to work well enough for a yes.

but ellie needs to hear it. 

“say yes. i gotta hear you say it.”

you stare at her, and she stares back. the need to actually kiss her is growing unbearable now that you know she wants it too, but the mortification of knowing this pretty girl could hear the desperation in your voice—you haven’t even tuned into the fact that she sounds just as desperate as you—, the hitch of your breathing if you were to say yes, makes it hard to voice what you want.

so you don’t. she’s close enough, hands having slid upwards, her sweaty palms against your thighs in a subconsciously innocent gesture; any stray hair’s been tucked messily behind her ear, her lips are a little chapped and you see her throat constrict in a swallow when you reach forward with your right hand and thread your fingertips through the hair at the base of her neck.

and when you lean forward—as much as you can, with the guitar situated between the two of you—, ellie meets you halfway, semi-pulled in by your touch and mostly leaned in of her own accord. 

it’s a kiss. just that, a gentle press of the lips, but the glorification fiction has given it hasn’t been for nothing. maybe it’s just because it wasn’t with the right person, but you’re far from unfamiliar with it and it’s never felt like this. ellie kisses like she never wants to stop and you’re not complaining. you feel her grip tighten around your thighs, and you’re already running out of air even though you’ve only been doing this for a couple seconds. when you part, it’s with an unspoken promise of more.

“i’ve seen you around,” ellie starts, whispering against your lips. it sounds like a confession, something she needs to get off her chest, so you urge her to continue with your silence and the gentle circling of your thumb against her scalp. “with dina. or jesse. on campus. during those stupid presentations. or the social events. and i’ve always wanted to talk to you, you know? especially that one time, when you,” she inhales, smoothing her hands out against your legs. “when you corrected jesse on a fucking dinosaur name at the group’s museum outing.”

you stare at her, shuffling through images of every event you’ve ever gone to for dina’s sake when it hits you. a couple months back, before finals, probably when dina and jesse had gotten back together after a huge blowup, she’d found some stupid exhibit at a museum close to campus and presented it to you. she’d asked if you thought it was a good deal, especially because her friend, ellie, liked dinosaurs, and fuck, what is wrong with you?

“shit, you remember that?”

her silence is enough of an answer, gaze flitting between your eyes and lips nervously. 

“oh my god,” you exhale, keeping her still with the hand you have around her neck as you press your foreheads together. to think, if you’d been a little less ignorant at the time, you could’ve already known ellie. the two of you could have been friends, possibly more—which now, doesn’t seem all that ridiculous—, had you tuned in a little more to what dina was saying, had paid more attention to the rest of dina’s group when you’d gone out with her, had asked simply, back then, who’s ellie?

“is that weird? tell me that’s not weird. i kinda feel like a creep now, fuck. i swear i wasn’t, like, stalking you or anything,” ellie starts rambling, something you doubt you’ll ever get tired of. 

“you said you’ve seen me around a couple times. are you a creep?”, you tease.

“no! i mean, no. i just kinda, i only heard about you and saw you that time, and, shit–” 

you smile at her, let her go on as you lean further over the guitar, left hand reaching out to tuck a couple strands of her unruly hair behind her right ear, effectively cutting her off without saying a word. this awestruck look on her face is something you really, really want to get used to, and the feeling of her breath ghosting over your lips is far more welcome than anything else will ever be. 

“god, i wanna kiss you again.”

“do it.” you hum, and then ellie’s lips are on yours again and you swear this pretty stranger with the auburn hair is going to be the death of you.

[yandere-kokeshi]

Can I get a yandere hobie x plus size reader who's Insecure about her or their weight please? Both sfw and nsfw if you comfortable with it.

Warnings: talks about insecurity, and nsfw.

A/N: no because he's definitely a chubby chaser. I'm chubby, so sending this in made me smile ;P! Ty for the request <3.

And please be more specific with the gender next time. I did GN.

Hobie, at first, would be sad and surprised when you opened about your insecurities. In his own eyes, you’ve always been attractive. He doesn’t understand why you are insecure. He gets sad whenever you devalue yourself or look at yourself in the mirror just because of your size. Everybody is different, especially with size. Why do you need the praise of others when he tells you how beautiful you are?

You should know he loves everything about you. The stretch marks, body curves, round cheeks, and plush thighs; he admires it like a deity. Nothing can change his opinion.

He has a way with words. There’s no room for hate when he’s with you. He’ll trace his hands down every spot you deem ugly. Whispering everything he loves about you, why you’re so perfect. All until you give in and genuinely tell him you feel better.

Hobie will sweep you off your feet. When worrying about your weight and size, about people's opinion, he’ll immediately silence those thoughts by picking you up in his arms. No matter what you’re doing or where you are, he’ll take the opportunity to lift you up. Sometimes he’ll even do it with one hand or lift you onto his shoulders. It always surprises you. If you start worrying about hurting him, he’ll shush you and say, “Ya’ feel like a kitten to me”.

Is 100% bold. Loves to slap your ass when you least expect it. Especially in front of people.

Finding clothes to fit your lovely form is hard. It’s either highly expensive or pretty bland. However, with Hobie, the issue is naturally fixed. He loves to sew and create clothes for you, though beware: Hobie will try to sneak in more revealing/risqué of clothing.

More often or not, he calls you his sweet cheeks, baby or peaches. Definitely bunny if you are too cute for him to handle.

Ever since you two got together, he’s been pawing and touching you; at any given time, his hands are on you and squishing your chubby form.

And this includes with sex. Literally the entire time, he’s with you, rolling under the sheets and kissing your skin, his hands are pawing at your rolls and thighs, making sure to leave permanent marks.

He thinks the best medicine for your insecurity is fucking it all out. If he finds you frowning in front of the mirror, pulling at your tummy rolls? He’s fucking you in front of it, making sure you make eye contact with him as he nibbles and bites at you; calling you his pretty peaches.

Denying sitting on his lap as you fear you’re ‘too fat?’ Hobie makes you sit on his face, leaving dark marks all over your yummy thighs and ensuring you cum at least 5 times before he gives you the real package.

Insecure of how your thighs and ass look? He takes extra time with foreplay, whispering the reasons why he loves your silver marks, soft skin, and peached build; biting into your ass as he licks your special place.

Definitely uses your thighs to masturbate. Whenever the two of you are sleeping, and he’s up at midnight – his bulge in the boxers becoming a problem, he’ll pull down your underwear before slicking in between them. His groaning and love marks littered and stained on your neck cause you to wake up. Though, you aren’t complaining.

Can’t decide if he’s more of an ass, or thigh man. He appreciates both of them and every part of your body equally. Any stretch marks, cellulite, anything.

The type to affectionately cup your sex. Whether that’s after a steamy session or sitting in your bedroom, Hobie will dig his hand into your pants and cup it like a piece of art. Most of the time, it’s not even sexual – he just likes how it feels down there.

As much as he loves you, Hobie is still a devious son of a bitch. He loves to leave marks all over you, especially your thighs and tummy.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[dreamermonica]

BLUE LOCK BOYS + ROMANCE TROPES

—includes isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser (sorry if this asshole's part is freakishly longer than the other boys' parts. favoritism exists in this blog, unfortunately.)

—fem pronouns are used, swearing cause it's me, major crack, fluff, messy attempt at humor, teenage pining and such, god help me t.t

ISAGI YOICHI is definitely childhood friend material. sworn friends ever since diapers, promises of being together till the very end, marriage proposals at the tender age of 6—all that type of cheesy stuff that would get you squealing and have your little feet kicking in the air out of giddiness. but as time goes on with him being set on football and you doing your own thing, the promise gradually gets left behind in your heads, slowly getting buried underneath all the pressure of being an adolescent. the once childish promise only resurfaces during an unexpected reunion—with both of you having achieved your dream careers. will your puppy love rise once more from the depths of your memories and perhaps turn into something...more serious? hah. what are you talking about? this old friend of yours should take you out for a proper dinner first, atleast.

BACHIRA MEGURU with the ugly duckling trope. no friends, seen as an outcast, too eccentric for his other classmates to comprehend—and there's you—the popular and extroverted individual loved and befriended by many others. you as the campus crush, who found an interest in the lonely bowl cut boy. though your curiosity is piqued at first, you were quite reluctant in actually befriending him. with rumors of him being a weirdo—most people often shy'd away from the idea of letting him inside their radars. but you aren't going to let that stop you from—wait, he's actually super sweet? and kind too? surprisingly a huge sweetheart? what kind of plot twist is this?! though the monster he speaks of kind of scares you, you're still terribly attracted like a fly to a light by his strong will to become the best striker in the foreign dimension of soccer. in the end he's just doing what he loves, a good-hearted boy who simply got misunderstood for his obsession with football—oh? why is your heart suddenly picking up its pace?

ITOSHI RIN with...*drum rolls*...quiet kid at the back of your class. 😐 not that surprising is it. anyways, this emo kid is obsessed with soccer, yet still able to keep up with his studies just fine. though he's mostly neutral with everybody, you sometimes fear the he might be plotting all your deaths with that unconventional stare of his that looks like he's constantly displeased. but you eventually come to a conclusion that that isn't the case. you both take the same bus home everyday, and you can confidently confirm that he really just looks like that. the stare only softens when he brings out his phone and starts playing granny or something. not to be a creepy stalker or anything—your field of view just always inconveniently contains him and the contents on his phone! he appears to have a knack for the genre of horror. games, movies, even tutorials. (this lil' cheat—) but of course, for this headcannon to work my way imma have to embarrass you in front of him for chemistry and relationship development purposes :p. so once upon a time, where you're tired as hell after some shit going down in school, you fail to remember your usual spot and slump down onto an open seat beside itoshi rin—who was on his phone paying you zero mind whatsoever, playing a horror game that you recognized to be some popular roblox game. you don't know if it's the tiredness that took over you, or the sole fact that seeing rin play so goddamn horrible on the game got on your nerves up to the point you couldn't hold in your thoughts anymore and outright told him what you'd come to regret in just a few moments—“what the hell, dude. you're terrible. you're supposed to get the key and then—” about to reach for the phone out of sheer frustration, you suddenly pause, realizing what you've just done. oh no. your eyes flicker to his expression and holy crap. rin itoshi is giving you the biggest, bombastic, judgemental, dehumanizing side eye you've ever seen in your life. actually, scratch that—he's full on staring at you like you've just directed 57 slurs at him. you feel like you've shrunk into a mere insect with how intense his stare is, mentally slowly melting into a puddle of shame as you stand up and profusely bow while spewing out pitiful apologies. after a few moments, you hear him heave a deep sigh, you slowly crane your neck up to look at him expectantly—only to find him and his absurdly gorgeous face challengingly raising a brow at you, “then what do you suppose i should do, miss i'm-so-good-at-the-game? please continue.” rin roblox kid confirmed.

ITOSHI SAE as the regular who has caught your eye trope. i really wanted to use childhood friends on this guy with the amount of angst it'd produce but isagi already got the trope so...'eye candy regular at the local coffee shop you work part-time at' trope it is. a bit specific but yeah you get what i mean :). it's hard not to notice this man whenever he comes in with that unfortunately charming blank face of his—so charming that in fact some girls from other nearby schools actually gather to seat themselves and wait for his appearance, shoot their shot with the guy and get immediately shut down with just one cold sweep of his indifferent stare. being pretty sure does have its downsides. you can still feel the shivers from when he full-on glared at a girl who was getting a bit too persistent. you've never really interacted with him aside from taking his regular order, but there's still the underlying fear that he'd cuss you out and embarrass you in front of teenage girls should you get his order wrong so now you have a note plastered onto the wall that always has his regular order tip up to the notch—with a highlighted nickname, “duckbutt james” since you never caught his name. but oh fuck, he sees it one uneventful day and raises a brow at you, nonchalantly and coolly saying that his name is “itoshi sae”. god. is this the part where you roll over and die in shame? why did you even think it was a good idea to put the note in point-blank range?! it's the same as basically shoving it in his face! you think you might pass out—but then suddenly—he smiles. he smiles. what. but it immediately disappears as fast as it came so now you're questioning if you're hallucinating or not. he takes his usual order and heads out once more, but as your head clears itself from the multiple stages of grief you experienced in one singular moment—you think of his name in wonder, finding it terribly familiar. itoshi sae. itoshi sae. itoshi...SAE?! WAIT—

MICHAEL KAISER is definitely enemies to lovers material, change my mind. a football hotshot who has to begrudgingly graduate first before officially signing a contract with the famous german world-wide football team—bastard münchen. at this point in life, he's basically already successful, so he literally just ignores and passes up all opportunities to actually study anything that isn't related to football. he's not a troublemaker perse, but you're convinced the entire faculty staff hates him due to the amount of unnecessary work his laziness spews out, but they would still have to pass him regardless of his lax attitude towards his studies due to the sole fact that the entirety of germany has their eyes on this genius of a prodigy. it was relatively obvious that failing him and delaying his awaited pro-debut would do no good for the name of the school, so he's now spared from the chains of corrupted education. despite being in the same class as him, kaiser was someone you've barely talked to—you both only interacted a grand total of two times. one was regarding a class project, and the other was that time you walked in on him getting confessed to for the what, thousandth time? needless to say, you're both barely acquainted, so being friends was out of the question. besides, it's not like you want to befriend him anyway (y/n moment)—you were both complete opposites. you were a study freak, and he was an infamous prodigy who had a passion for kicking a ball—he's the emperor who lived in a completely different world from your mundane life as a mere commoner in his story.

*rubs hands together* now it's time to get even more delusional, folks. it's just supposed to be a normal day but oh nooo, you're now both forced to fully acknowledge each other's presence after a teacher falsely accuses both of you and sends you to detention—highly biased should you add. it's one of those low teachers that act passive aggressively with his early success. it's bound to get people jealous, but shouldn't you be proud as a teacher? whatever. all that you know is that you're now both stuck in detention and you're blaming him now. you know very well you're both completely innocent so for what exactly are you blaming him? absolutely nothing. you're just bored and michael kaiser was your only source of entertainment in this bland and empty classroom. jabs are thrown around from across the room as you are unable to initiate conversation without you throwing an insult everytime he attempts to flirt with you. you asked him to be quiet? babe, he's going to do the exact opposite. you asked him to shut the fuck up? he'll say the typical 'make me'. your sanity is all but squeezed out of your entire being by the time your detention is over, finally being dismissed for the day until he stops you from actually leaving the room by holding your shoulder in place and asks for your number with a playful wink. you want to slap him, maybe kick his shins, roundhouse him in the face and run away but with the knowledge that you'll both still be meeting in your class the next day is a bitter reminder that you should atleast try to remain civil with this young and growing superstar if you want to survive the school year. albeit begrudgingly—you punch down your numbers into his phone (you put a random number in at first but he quickly confirms it to be false when your phone doesn't receive the message he sent just in-case. tsk.) and immediately leave the premises after he cracks a joke about seeing him tomorrow night for dinner.

unbeknownst to you, he was the one who put the anonymous tip in the school's online forum that falsely landed both of you in detention—all just to get some alone time with you and grab your number without attracting too much unnecessary attention because oh my lord he's genuinely interested in someone who isn't a part of his football kingdom?? wowowowowow

sae reawakened my duckbutt (sasuke) phase ong (also reader doesn't know what the world-class midfielder sae looks like, only his name so that's why she was shocked)

[melljam]

oh my god, gun canonically favors attractive people working under him?? (chapter 270)

okaaay fine i hate logan too but thats because he’s a nasty bully!!! and because of what happened with zoe

but guns reason here is literally “he’s too ugly … he may be strong, but …. he’s just … so ugly …”

and uhmm …. what exactly it is that he is doing to “make use” of attractive faces … o_O

wait oh my god,, no wonder all of the crewheads are drop-dead gorgeous, he judges them based on their looks too

so you can fight? great. but are you hot ….? hrmm

eli being his favorite and him also having the most in-universe pretty privilege is no coincidence!!!

not surprising at all that he absolutely adores second body daniel. in addition to him being the only one who actually stands a chance against him besides goo, he’s hot! in that body, he is quite literally “perfect”

so this probably isnt the case but it would be so funny if another one of the reasons he gave samuel a second chance was simply because he’s handsome. like could you imagine …

ugh stupid loser with an inferiority complex … but he’s so good at business … and more importantly, he is just sooo stylish

ermm lookism never deviated from the theme about society judging peoples inherent value based on their physical appearance …!!!.!.!

gun was the worst lookist all along …!.!! maybe the true lookism was the successors he recruited along the way haha

[exceptionimagines]

Out with the Old, In with the New

(Not my gif)

- Everything was perfect when you and your boyfriend first moved in together. A new house, a good job, a partner you were convinced you were going to spend the rest of your life with. You were finally starting to feel like an actual grown up. ...It was just a shame you were the only one who seemed to stay that way....

- Your boyfriend was never a freeloader; he never made you pay more than your fair share, but it wasn't anything monetary that you ever had to worry about. It was everything else that seemed to fall apart the longer the two of you were together. The chores, the quality time, the romance: it all seemed to drain out of him the minute the two of you started living together and now, almost a year later, you just sort of feel stuck.

- You know you can leave; everyone knows that they can leave, but what happens if or when you do? You push aside any remaining feelings you have for the man that you've loved for years in the hopes that you'll find the perfect man in his absence? You uproot your entire life on the off chance that things could be better?

- No. No, you just can't do that. At the end of the day, you convince yourself that things are fine, that no relationship is perfect and that you're comfortable; that comfortable is a hell of a lot better than being single and regretful. You convince yourself that you're happy and that he's never treated you badly: if he had, you'd actually have a reason to leave. There are times you wish he had….

- You suppose you get your wish once Jerry Dandridge moves in next door....

- Your neighborhood is full of empty houses, so it's no surprise when you catch sight of a realtor pulling into the driveway next to yours. You watch out the window as they victoriously plaster a "sold" sticker onto the for sale sign which has occupied the manicured lawn for months on end. A multitude of cars, moving vans, and dumpsters follow in their wake as the weeks go by, entering and exiting your quiet suburb in preparation for the new arrival.

- Your boyfriend doesn't seem all that interested in the subject; always just distractedly humming in acknowledgement whenever you bring it up. Which is why you're a little taken aback when you see him talking to an unfamiliar stranger after getting home from work one day.

- The aforementioned stranger is introduced to you as your new neighbor, Jerry. The two of you shake hands and spark up a conversation about how long you've been in the area before your boyfriend abruptly interrupts, excusing you for dinner as you glance at him somewhat scoldingly. Yet, the rudeness of the interaction seems lost on Jerry as he simply smiles at you, welcoming you to come by if you ever need anything and watching as your boyfriend hurriedly ushers you towards your front door.

"You didn't notice anything weird about him?" Your boyfriend, Ben, questions once you get inside, goading you into agreeing with him as he watches you make dinner.

“Even if he was being a little weird, it’s probably just because he’s so new in town. It’s always awkward meeting new people, isn’t it?” You try to insist, wanting to give the man you’re going to be living next door to the benefit of the doubt.

“He doesn’t seem like the type of guy to be awkward.” Ben grumbles.

- Jealousy, you decide after hearing his petulant comment. Your boyfriend is jealous of your new, conventionally attractive neighbor and doesn’t want you spending too much time with him. Funny how that ugly little emotion is one of the few things that's stayed consistent about him over the years.

- Alas, against your better judgement, you decide to be a good girlfriend and agree to keep your distance, though you do warn him that you aren’t going to be rude and actively avoid him. You figure that you won’t be seeing much of Jerry anyway: he seems like a busy guy, and you’re a busy girl. Even if you’re neighbors, how often will you run into him long enough to hold an actual conversation?

- Unfortunately or fortunately for you; depending on how you look at it, Jerry seems intent on becoming your friend. He seems to always be outside whenever you return home from work, and since you refuse to treat your innocent neighbor like a registered sex offender, you return his hellos and stop to speak with him a little whenever he starts a conversation.

- You find out that he works nights, which explains his seemingly odd sleeping schedule, and as much as you want to deny it, you also start to see how your boyfriend could find him a little strange. Jerry is intense, somewhat blunt and to the point yet also suggestive at the same time. He picks up on little things that most people wouldn’t notice or put two and two together on, giving off the impression that he knows things that he realistically shouldn’t. You still think your boyfriend is being a little dramatic when he insists that there’s “something off about him”, especially since Jerry has been nothing besides neighborly and sweet.

- You try to be a good girlfriend, but it’s getting increasingly difficult. Jerry is charming, and he’s helpful to boot, and you know what? You’re lonely! Your boyfriend is hardly ever home and, even when he is, he’s rarely spending time with you, and he’s certainly not helping around the house.

- You don’t go out of your way to invite Jerry into your home. You actively avoid it for as long as possible, even when he asks to borrow something and stands lingering in your doorway while you go to retrieve it. You reason to yourself that it’s crossing a line, that you shouldn’t be inviting a man into your home when your boyfriend isn’t around; especially one he doesn’t even like you talking to.

- But when he offers to fix something for you that your boyfriends been putting off dealing with for months, you just can’t help but accept his offer. It starts off with him fixing something in your car, then it’s the squeaky hinges on your door, your kitchen sink, your AC unit, your misaligned shelf, etc. It gets to the point where your boyfriend starts to notice that things have been remedied, and you’re forced to admit that Jerry was over.

- He doesn’t like it, but you insist that you’re not going to pay someone hundreds of dollars to fix something if your neighbor is willing to do it for a couple of beers. Ben insists that you should have told him to do it instead, and you simply inform him that you have. He doesn’t have much to say about it after that and neither do you: you’re tired, but when you go to bed that night, you find yourself struggling to sleep.

- Half of it is frustration and half of it is guilt. Frustration because your boyfriend is being completely irrational and has been so unreliable that you’re beginning to depend on your neighbor more than your actual partner. That you’ve become more like Bens' mother than his girlfriend, and that the only time when you’re being taken care of is when Jerry is over….

- And guilt because you’re allowing Jerry to take care of you. That you’re finding yourself wondering what it would be like to be with him instead. That you’re finding yourself being drawn to him, being attracted to him, being flustered by him. You know that you shouldn’t be having these types of feelings for anyone but Ben; anyone but your boyfriend, but you just can’t help it.

- But frustration always wins over all of your guilt because your boyfriend doesn’t know any of that. He has no idea about the depths of your feelings for the man, but he does know that you’ve struggled to make friends ever since you’ve moved here, and that you’re finally receiving said friendship in the form of your neighbor. When he insists that you should stay away from him, it’s simply because he’s being jealous and controlling. You can understand the fact that he’s jealous, he’s allowed to be, but he isn’t allowed to limit your friendships. He should trust you not to betray him by acting on them. He should know that you would never do that to him.

- Maybe that’s why you spitefully agree to finally come inside the next time Jerry invites you in. Why you find yourself sitting in his living room watching Desperate Housewives; of all things, while you nurse a cold beer, pushing your boyfriend and the usual time he gets home out of your mind. That you spend hours in that room, talking more and more, drinking more and more, until it’s late in the evening and your boyfriend texts you asking where you are.

- You text him “at Jerry’s” and in a matter of minutes he’s knocking on the door, ushering you out angrily as Jerry simply smiles and assures him nothing happened while helping you with your things. Your boyfriend ignores him, standing in the doorway and glaring at you as you thank Jerry for having you over, tipsily hugging him before your boyfriend physically pulls you out of the house.

- He’s hushed when he tells you that “this” is never happening again: that he’s not allowed in your house anymore, that you’re not talking to him anymore, that you’re not even gonna acknowledge him anymore; that he's dangerous and that you just have to trust him on this. Once you’re in the house, he orders you to go to bed, something you do without much of an argument, whining petulantly that nothing even happened as you drag your feet towards the bathroom. You settle into an empty bed once you’re finished getting ready and fall asleep in a matter of minutes.

- When you wake up the next morning, the bed is still empty. When you look out the window, your boyfriend's car is gone from the driveway, so you just figure that he’s gone off to work early and begin your usual day off routine, nursing a mild hangover in the process. It’s only when he doesn’t return home at his usual time that you finally start to worry. You try to text him, but you get no reply, so you figure that he's either out with some friends or staying late at work, something that isn't completely out of the ordinary. Because of this, you decide to wait until tomorrow before you take any drastic measures.

- Jerry meets you in your driveway the next day, somewhat jokingly apologizing for getting you in trouble with your boyfriend. You laugh a little and insist that it’s not his fault, but since he brought him up himself, you decide to ask if he saw Ben go anywhere the night you left his house. He tells you that he’s not sure but that he thinks he left again not too long after the two of you went inside. He asks if everything’s alright, and you confess that you aren’t sure, explaining everything that’s happened.

- He comforts you before the two of you say goodbye, assuring you that he’s sure everything will be fine, that Ben is probably just blowing off some steam somewhere. He tells you to have a good long talk with him once he comes back; not if, and that he shouldn’t just up and run away like that if he has a problem, that it isn’t right.

- You get a text later that night from Bens' phone, telling you that he’s at a friends and that he won’t be back, that he doesn’t know when he’ll be back. You ask him what’s wrong and question whether this whole thing is because you were with Jerry for a couple of hours, if it’s because you got a little drunk with someone you considered a friend. You insist that nothing happened, but you don’t receive an answer.

- As the days go by, Ben never comes home. The last text you receive from him is a short message that tells you he’s done, that you can do whatever you want with his things and that he doesn’t care. That he isn’t coming home and that he isn’t interested in talking things out. You furiously text him back trying to figure out what the hell is going on, but as the hours pass with no response, you simply come to terms with the fact that your boyfriend is not at all the person that you thought he was. You just count your lucky stars that you have a good enough job to afford a cheap house all on your own.

- The next time you see Jerry, you tell him what happened, but he doesn’t seem all that surprised. He asks if you’re going to be alright, and you insist that you are. He gives you a smile and an “attagirl”, insisting that if you ever need anything, anything at all, he’s still always happy to help. You simply smile at him.

- Now that your boyfriend is officially out of the picture, you start spending more and more time with Jerry, forgetting about all of the boundaries you previously put in place for the sake of your past relationship. It feels nice finally being able to relax and though you promised yourself that you were going to remain amicable about the entire thing, it isn't long before you start to reveal all of the things that went wrong during your time together; no longer protecting your ex's reputation in the eyes of your neighbor. It feels good getting it all off of your chest and Jerry is just so ...understanding, always letting you rant to him and reacting in a way that validates all of your feelings of frustration.

"You know, I hate to admit it, but I had a feeling things weren't as ...perfect as they seemed," He admits to you one night, his voice resembling something akin to a purr, his eyes locked intently on you; a sense of hunger in his gaze that you blame on the alcohol in your system. "No offense, but uh, I could sense it in him: that he wasn't ready for all of this. I didn't want to say anything, but he just seemed like more of a boy than a man, someone who didn't know how to handle a woman like you. There's a kind of neglect ...gives off a scent."

- It's later that night when he kisses you for the first time, in the middle of his kitchen as you go to wash off the sticky remnants of a dripping beer from your hands. You hear him enter the room, and you begin to say something before you feel him come up close behind you.

"You smell really good." He hums, leaning closer as you turn towards him, opening your mouth to innocently thank him before he covers your lips with his own, kissing you fiercely.

- Your eyes quickly widen, dripping wet hand making its way to his chest in order to hold him back, to stop him from devouring you whole. When you pull away, you swear that his eyes are blacker than ever before: dark and frightening and inhuman.

- You back away and hurriedly excuse yourself, claiming that you have to leave for one reason or another as he merely watches you go, eyes intently trained on you; their unwavering focus sending a chill down your spine. He says absolutely nothing as you leave out his front door, heart pounding as you try to forget how much he resembled a predator: not some kind of human creep but a wild animal, something that wanted to eat you alive.

- When you get inside your front door, you notice a message on your phone, one from Ben's mother asking if everything is alright, that she hasn't heard from him for a while and that she's worried about him. A part of you can't help but wonder if you'll be telling her the truth when you inform her that he's broken up with you....

- After that night, Jerry seems to have finally begun ditching his attempts at acting normal around you, his behavior growing increasingly unsettling and suspicious now that he senses that you're onto him. Though you try to avoid him; and though he's stuck to watching you from afar for the past few days, it's hard to completely evade him when you never seem to hear him coming; another trait of his that does nothing but unnerve you.

- You successfully steer clear of him for nearly a week, growing confident in your ability to avoid him until you go to take out the trash one night and are suddenly met face to face with the man.

"I'm sorry about the other night," he apologizes, acting as though he didn't just materialize from the shadows of your garden and scare you half to death. "I know I shouldn't have made a move on you like that, but I just couldn't help myself. Blame it on the alcohol, huh?"

- You force yourself to smile at his attempt at a joke, telling him to forget about it as sincerely as you can as you move to surpass him, wanting to exit out of your garden gate and go inside as quickly as possible.

"It's just, and correct me if I'm wrong, but I could have sworn that there was something...." He shakes his head, both trying to find the right words and trying to goad you into interrupting him with a response of your own, hoping that you'll agree with him as he tries to read your expression. "Something there, you know?"

- And though you want to deny it, you know that you can't. You're suddenly met with the realization that Jerry has known all along, that he's seen right through you the entire time and that all of his vague attempts to come onto you have, in fact, been attempts to come onto you. You suddenly feel a swell of guilt, guilt for your ex-boyfriend who you now realize wasn't as insecure or controlling as you thought.

"It's just too soon." You explain quietly, hoping he'll accept the excuse. He stares at you for a moment, scanning your face intently as he seemingly tries to read your expression.

"No problem," he replies after the brief silence, offering a smile that does little to ease the tension you feel. You hate that you still find it attractive. "I just don't want to ruin things between us, you know? I really enjoy your company."

"How about I come over tomorrow then?" You question quickly, offering him a hopefully convincing attempt at a sincere smile; hoping that he doesn't notice that you have ulterior motives in mind. He once again gazes at you for a long moment, far longer than what anyone would deem as a normal pause, looking you up and down as a smile begins to tug at his lips.

"Of course." He answers after a moment, and you contain your sigh of relief, feeling like he's actually fallen for it as he steps back and lets you pass him through the narrow gap of your backyards gate. You bid him goodbye, pausing briefly to smile and nod at him when he calls out a time, swallowing down your nerves as you continue to make your way inside and ignore the feeling of his eyes on your figure.

- And just like that, you find yourself sitting in his living room, nursing a beer and smiling at him when he puts on the show that you've both started watching together; "our show" as he would call it. You force yourself to act normal, even force yourself to move closer to him, silently allowing him to wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you in, hand rubbing up and down your arm as the two of you sit and watch. You hate that it almost feels natural. You can only hope that it's enough to convince him that nothing is wrong, especially since it's only succeeding in confusing your feelings even more.

- You know that you don't have much time when you ask to use his bathroom, quickly taking your chance to snoop through the rooms that you've never entered, quickly finding one that's full of suspicious artifacts; exactly the sorts of things that you were hoping you wouldn't find. You pull out your phone to take a picture before you nearly drop it at the sound of a sudden voice.

"Seems you've discovered my secret." You jump at the interruption, quickly spinning around and locking your eyes on Jerry who's standing in the doorway, watching you as you scramble for an excuse, tilting his head.

"I was just looking for the bathroom."

"It's down the hall. ...Like every other house on this street," He responds, and you quickly realize that you've been caught, that he's not buying it one bit. He smiles reassuringly at you as he starts to speak again, his voice taking on an almost cooing tone. "It's okay. I'm not mad."

"You know, I was a little worried when you stopped coming by. I thought you didn't like me anymore," He jokes, watching as you glance around and try to find an opening in the room, somewhere that you can escape from. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Why not? You hurt Ben." You ask spitefully.

"As if you care about Ben," He answers sarcastically before he puts up his hands in surrender, smiling sheepishly at you. "That. ...I'm sorry. I know you cared. You were a very good girlfriend. It was him that was the problem. ...But that's besides the point. Why don't you just come downstairs and let me explain, hmm?"

You pause, scrambling to make a decision. "You're a vampire." You respond, not as much of a question as it is a statement. He simply smiles at you. "Right? That's why Ben didn't like you. Why he was so weird about everything."

"I imagine so," He replies as if you already know the answer, which you admittedly do. "Ben was a …he was a nuisance. See, I’m just trying to live like everyone else, keep to myself, survive. He was making that difficult, and worst of all he was mistreating you. It became increasingly obvious that he was only going to cause more trouble and more problems. So I was forced to ...deal with it, before it could become an issue."

"And I think I did you a favor by doing it too." He chuckles a little. You suck in a nervous breath. "Y/n, I'm not gonna hurt you."

"I find that a little hard to believe."

"Well, try to, because it's the truth. You're different, y/n. You're something special. I knew it from the moment I saw you. You weren't meant to be in some unfulfilling relationship with some little boy. You were meant for something more, something bigger. I think that, deep down, you know that too."

"What do you want from me?"

"I just want you to give me a chance." He smiles.

- And against your better judgement, you find yourself wanting to agree....

- You suppose you don't have much of a choice either way, you know that nobody would ever believe you if you decided to try and tell someone, and even though Jerry claims that he doesn't want to hurt you, all he has to do is sink his fangs into you and you're finished. So you hesitantly agree to hear him out, letting him lead you downstairs and back onto his new leather couch, smiling at you affectionately as he takes a seat in his armchair, thankfully giving you a bit of space instead of invading your personal bubble like earlier in the evening.

- He doesn't speak for a long moment, seemingly waiting for you to start the conversation, though you're so unsure of how to navigate a situation like this that you're momentarily at a loss for words. He starts the conversation instead.

"I'm not going to lie to you. I enjoy being what I am. You hear about ...my kind in movies and in books, and they're either one step above an animal or anguished," He chuckles at the description. "They go on and on about being cursed, but I don't think of it that way. Sure, it isn't easy, but you get used to it. You forget about the sun, forget about your past life. You change, and personally, I think it's for the better."

"So you can't go out in the sun?" You speak for the first time since getting downstairs.

He nods in response to your question, smirking slightly as he offers you a verbal answer. "I don't really work nights."

"And you drink human blood?"

"Of course."

"Did you drink Bens?" He looks at you for a moment, as if deciding if you really want him to answer it.

"It would be a waste not to."

"Do the people you bite turn into vampires too?"

"Your boyfriend isn't a vampire, if that's what you're asking. I wouldn't have had it in me to put up with him for the rest of eternity." He scoffs, seemingly more at the idea than at you.

"So you can bite people without turning them."

"Not quite," he responds. "Anything I bite turns into one of me, but it's up to me to decide whether they'll live long enough to see it come to fruition. Ben was ...gone, long before he turned."

"So whoever you bite has to become a vampire?" You confirm, trying to make heads and tails of it all.

"You seem interested," He replies, and your eyes widen at the comment, your mouth opening to deny the accusation. "There's a way for you to feel what it's like without fully turning. I just have to give you some of my blood and you'll get a taste of it. It's just like a dream."

- You quickly move on from the topic, ignoring the way that he smiles at you, at the thoughts that go racing through your brain as you try to envision what he means. You continue your little questionnaire for about an hour, bouncing back and forth between subjects as you try to get as much information as possible, hoping that he's telling you the truth whenever he answers you. He's incredibly nonchalant about the entire thing, and it only serves to unnerve you even further: the thought of him being so used to his little lifestyle that the concept of it no longer phases him in the slightest.

"I have work tomorrow," You finally say, feeling as though you're incapable of taking any more information in. "I have to get up early so I really better go."

- He doesn't seem worried about you leaving in the slightest, he simply rises from his seat and leads you to his front door, bidding you goodnight as though you've had a perfectly normal evening. It's like he knows you have nothing against him, like he knows you could never escape him or find a way to beat him. Like no matter what you do, you're still stuck in his control.

- But Jerry continues to stay true to his word, never actually harming you, even if he continues to occasionally scare you. A part of you starts to feel like he doesn't even do it on purpose, like its just a part of his nature and that he's simply no longer trying to hide it. Alarmingly, you begin to find some of these habits of his attractive....

- You were no stranger to finding Jerry handsome, but you were sort of hoping that these feelings of yours would fade away once you realized that he was a blood-thirsty monster who killed your ex-boyfriend for fun. Unfortunately for you, Jerry is still Jerry, and the feelings of fear that you recently began to harbor for him are beginning to mix into a confusing cocktail; one that has you wondering where your nervousness ends and your excitement begins.

- Emotions are strange like that. You try to reason with yourself, wanting to excuse the conflicting feelings you have for the man. But the more you see of him, the more you talk to him, the more you touch him: the less you can excuse. Jerry is just so ...raw: all muscle and power and masculine energy; the sort of intoxicating presence that's hard to stay away from even when you know that you should. A part of you wonders if that's part of his vampiric powers, but you're simply too stubborn and embarrassed to ask.

- While you tried keeping away from him for a little while, it did nothing to quell your nerves, and though he patiently allowed you to have some space and time to think, you knew that he wasn't very pleased. So when you find yourself struggling to open a jar, you deem it as good a time as any to allow him back into your life. And with little else to do, you begin to spend more time with him; the "man" that continues to be one of your only friends....

- Surprisingly, your life doesn't really change all that much. You'd think that befriending an immortal demon would have some effect on you, would make some catastrophic shift in your perception of life. But you still work a nine to five, and you still have house chores, and honestly, all that's changed is your willingness to believe in the supernatural. ...And maybe your love life.

- See, now that you're back in his life and Ben is completely out of the picture, Jerry has become increasingly obvious in his attempts to come onto you. And since you're beginning to grow more and more receptive towards him, there's very little stopping his flirtation. You typically brush him off or tell him to shut up, choosing to outwardly take his advances as little more than a joke. But he knows that you know he's that being serious, and your denial has become more like a game for him than an actual rejection; something he can work towards breaking down. It's a challenge, and boy does he like a good challenge....

- Jerry knows exactly what he's doing every time he provokes you. He knows that you ogle him whenever he's in his tank tops or that you can't help but watch the way that his back flexes whenever he wears a fitted shirt. He knows that your hands have a tendency to linger for a moment too long whenever you bump into him; i.e. when he makes you bump into him. He knows that your heart races whenever he effortlessly picks you up or moves you around, and he knows that it isn't from fear. He knows, and he loves it, and it becomes increasingly harder for him to contain himself whenever you're around and so close to letting him claim you.

- But he also knows that it's becoming increasingly harder for you as well. So he simply bides his time, smiling knowingly whenever you hurriedly change the subject or move away from him, loving the way that you grow flustered under his gaze. He simply hopes that it won't take much longer for you to make up your mind because he's beginning to grow impatient....

- There's one thing that's been on your mind ever since he first brought it up to you: the feeling of drinking his blood. He's vague in his description of it, but it still continues to entice you: the idea of getting to taste a fraction of what it's like to be supernatural. You're not sure that you're ever going to be willing to make the entire change; though you're sure that Jerry would happily turn you the minute you asked, but you don't see the harm in experiencing some form of it; just enough to quell your curiosity.

- So after a particularly taxing day, you find yourself over at Jerry's place, sitting quietly on his couch as the two of you watch television, deciding how to bring the subject up to him, or if you even should. He interrupts the silence that the two of you have formed, asking you what's you what's on your mind and giving you excuse to spill the beans. He's quiet as you ramble through your thought process, and just as quiet as you finish, sitting there silently as you stare at your feet in slight embarrassment.

- Finally, you happen a glance towards him, just in time to see him getting up from his chair, his eyes darkened as he makes his way over and seats himself beside you on the couch. He wastes no time in slicing his finger open, deep dark liquid pooling at the wound as he offers the digit out to you, pressing it to your lips as you move closer. His eyes never leave your face, pupils lost in the sunken pits of black as he hungrily watches you take in the taste and the unfamiliar sensation.

- You feel the urge to chase his hand after he pulls it away from you, but you don't have much time to focus on that thought before he's pulling you into him, covering your lips with his own and licking up the remnants of his own blood. This time, you don't have it in you to pull away from him, not that you even want to, kissing him back just as hungrily as he kisses you, his arms tightening around your figure as he lowers you further down onto his couch.

- You wake up the next morning feeling a little hazy, like the last remnants of sleep are still clinging to your mind and stopping you from facing reality. You register that Jerry's arms are wrapped tightly around you, that you're laying on his chest, and that you've spent the entire night with him.

- And you suddenly have the intense feeling that you're no longer a free woman, that after this, Jerry is never going to let you go. But the thing is, you're no longer sure if you want him to: especially not when you feel him begin to stir, his body pulling you ever so closer and his face burying itself in your hair....

- No, no you think you like the idea of never having him let you go....

[lil-spider]

So Damn Pretty

Chapter 10

Part 9 : Part 11

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter X Female Reader

Summary: Johnny is sex starved and you’re very attractive, so attractive that he doesn’t want to kill you. Instead he finds ways to keep you around longer.

Note: The story is coming closer to completion but that’s okey cause I’m gonna be in this fandom forever even if it has died a little lol. I’ve got plenty of Johnny fics planned :3. This chapter is for those who have been so patient! Love you all😘

Warning: This is 18+ and please do not read if your sensitive to heavy descriptions of non/con and violence. Including bondage, blood, gore, assault, objectification and unsafe sex. For those who don’t mind, I hope you enjoy.

I stare vacantly at the couple of eggs on my plate, not feeling hungry for them. I sink further into my seat and take a glance over at Johnny. Its just him and me sitting at the dining table; the rest of the family have already finished up their breakfast, but it seems he has an appetite this morning, digging in his second plate of crispy bacon. I look back at the two eggs; things in pairs have been bothering me lately. It seems my mind still can't get over those two girls. I thought I would be over it; at the time, it didn’t bother me, but the guilt comes in waves. Crashing heavily against my consciousness. I try to keep it down, not letting it depress me. I've gained trust from the family, and I don’t want to ruin it with my emotions. 

 

With their trust comes more leniency. So much so that Drayton brings me along to the gas station, helping him out with whatever he tasks me with. 

 

A surprising amount of locals come by. They didn’t question me; they just went about their own business. I didn't know how to go about it. I guess no one back home really cares that I'm missing. Even though I'm somewhat content with my current situation, I can't help but feel sad. No one bothered at all to look for me. I know I didn't have much family, but Nate and Jessica sure did; both came from big families. There should be people searching for them. 

 

I quickly moved on from those thoughts, especially now that it's too late to go back. It's easier to just focus on other things. Even if there isn't much to focus on,.

 

At least today I can spend the rest of my time with Johnny out in the field. I love keeping him company while he works on the cars, and sometimes I help out by passing him tools or handing him a rag.

I glance over at him again while I smoosh around my runny eggs with my fork. He shoots me a small grin. I was going to smile softly back at him until a sudden shot of nausea hit me. Instead, I must have given him an ugly face because he looked at me with a raised brow. 

 

Salvia starts poring up into my mouth, and with panic, I sit up, making the chair scratch on the floor, and bolt past Johnny to the front door, slamming it open. No longer able to hold it down, I grip the veranda's handrails tightly, lean over, and vomit my breakfast onto the poor bushes below.

 

"Ya' alright, darlin'?" Johnny asks as he walks up behind me, confused. He sees what is happening and places a large hand on my back and rubs it in soft circles while I spew out misery. Thinking I was finished, I turned around to face him, smiling wearily, but a second punch of nausea came flying in, and I turned back to vomit in the bushes again.

 

“I’ll go get Sissy.” He says this, grimacing at the sight of me puking, unsure of what to do.

 

He leaves, and in a quick minute, a concerned Sissy comes with a damp hand towel, and she guides me to take a seat on the white bench, dabbing my forehead while I try not to throw up straight bile.

 

"Oh, pumpkin, this is not good," Sissy worries, still wiping my face. Johnny comes back outside, also looking concerned. 

 

“Take her to the living room, Johnny; she needs to lay down.” Sissy tells him, feeling my forehead and checking for my temperature. I’m not sure if I’m sick; I don’t feel hot. 

 

Johnny, grumbling at being told what to do, still picks me up bridal style, carrying me effortlessly to the living room, and lays me down gently on the cowhide-covered couch.

 

“What’s wrong with her?” Johnny asks, turning to Sissy, wanting an answer to my sudden sickness. She places an old, rusty bucket down next to me, just in case I get sick again. 

 

"Well, she ain’t burnin' up. Maybe it’s something she ate.” She’s replies are also confused about my sudden sickness. 

 

I lay there on the couch, trying to keep whatever wants to come up down while Sissy and Johnny keep me company for a bit. It’s comforting to see how much they seem to care for me. However, after under an hour of resting and sipping on some water, I feel much better.

 

“I'm feeling better.” I said this to both of them, who looked surprised and relieved about my comeback.

 

“Somethin' must've upset ya' then.” She reasons. With that little incident over with, the rest of the day goes by as normal without any sign of sickness. It must have been something I ate. 

 

That’s what I believed until the very next morning, and then the next thing happened on the third day. Sissy keeps my hair away from my face while rubbing my back. 

 

It's another morning, and I'm back outside vomiting; it seems to be my usual puke spot outside on the veranda. 

 

 I know I've made everyone else concerned now. I can hear Nubbins questioning Johnny about why I'm throwing up so much. But he wouldn't get a solid answer from him, as he is just as clueless about my ongoing vomiting. I don’t understand either; at first, I thought I was dying, but what Sissy came up with seemed worse than dying. Her sweet voice contradicts the heavy words coming out of her mouth. I feel like I've been strapped to an anchor, and it's dragging me down, deep below. 

 

 “I think you may be pregnant, sugar; you ain’t got no fever, and sure, dang, know Johnny hasn’t been innocent with you." She explains smoothing my messy hair. 

 

Now I feel like I’m really drowning. Oh, my good I’m pregnant, oh fucking hell. It explains everything: the weight gain, my emotions playing up, and of course the morning sickness. My legs start to wobble. Holy shit, I’m pregnant with Johnny’s baby. 

Sissy notices my shaky form and decides to help me back inside. Holding my arms steady, she shuts the door behind us with her foot while leading me to the sofa. As I sit, she’s skipped off to grab a glass of lemonade while I try to calm down. Just as quickly as she left, she came back with a glass of delicious cold lemonade. Sissy places the drink in my shaky hands as I take a sip. Its sweet yet bitter flavour soothes me. 

 

“When I was in California, some of her sisters from the ranch always threw up every morning when they were pregnant. It's called morning sickness, and it's always a telltale sign that you're going to have a baby.” She explains joyfully, sitting down right next to me and giving me an excited hug. 

 

She then claps her hands together cheerfully. "Oh, how joyous a little baby!" She throws her thin arms around me again in another big hug while I sit frozen, completely gobsmacked by the revelation that I'm pregnant. I guess I must have forgotten how babies were made while I’ve been here; Johnny and I have been going at it enough. There is no denying that.

 

I placed my lemonade down on the coffee table and placed a hand over my belly. Johnny's baby is growing inside me and will later give birth to his baby. 

Sissy stands back up, going over to a sleeping grandpa. I didn't realise he was there. But Sissy, with all her excitement, accidentally woke him up, to which she apologised by telling him about the new member of the family and how he’s going to be a grandpa again. How many generations old is this baby going to make grandpa? I wonder.

Grandpa Sawyer just let out these wistful groans in reply. Sissy explains that he’s excited for a new grandchild. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand him. 

Then Johnny comes stomping in, shirtless and sweaty from being outside in the Texas heat. "What’s all the squealing you’re making? I can hear it from outside." He asks, annoyed. 

I would've hoped Sissy would keep my pregnancy to herself until I was ready to tell her, but instead she just blatantly spills out to him that I'm pregnant. 

“Bout’ time.” He says plainly, I gap at his laid-back attitude on this situation. He turns to my surprised face, and he smirks. He inches closer, bending down so his face is in front of mine. 

“I told ya I wanted to be a dad, didn’t I? It’s why I've been working so hard on you.” His smirk widens as my face flushes red in embarrassment. Have I been baby trapped?

The day goes by like usual, even though I'm an emotional, vomiting mess. Now during dinner, and for some odd reason, I never get sick eating supper. The smell of any other food makes me queasy, except cooked meat. My mouth starts to drool when I smell it being cooked. Just barely being able to keep anything else down has made me famished, and tonight, Drayton's chilli has never tasted better. Going in for seconds and now thirds.

“I should've made extra batches just for the way you eat, girl.” Drayton commented, slightly impressed with how much I can put down. 

“It’s just so good.” I moan out with a mouthful of chilli.

“It's better than good; it's the best chilli in the whole damn county.” Cook proudly states, sitting up a bit straighter.

“Oh god, enough of the chilli talk.” Johnny groans out, already frustrated with the conversation.

“Y-yeah enough!” Nubbins joins in, trying to entice a fight. 

"Oh, shut it; look at the girl; she loves it.” He points over to me, still stuffing my face with utter pleasure. 

“No more of this arguing! Y/N is in a delicate situation, and I want none of ya' messing that up!” Sissy puts her bit in, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. Ironically, this is her way of enticing an argument.

“What delicate situation, girl? She's just hungry.” Drayton asks, confused by Sissy’s words. 

“She’s pregnant, and ya' can't do anything about' it.” Sissy again spills the beans on my pregnancy, but now to the rest of the family. 

I look over at Johnny puasing my eating to see his reaction to Sissy not being able to keep anything to herself. “They'll find out sooner or later.” He just sinks further back into the chair, crossing his muscular arms under his chest, waiting for the onslaught of words from Drayton. 

Bubba, who is next to me, is the first to react. He places his large hand on top of his head and pats it, like if I were a puppy. He groans gleefully, I guess, letting me know that he is happy with the new addition. He can be a real gentle giant when there isn't anyone to murder. 

Cook has gone absolutely red as a tomato, while nubbins start snickering. "Oooh, J-Johnny, I-I-is in trouble.” It seems the night has gone his way for wanting drama.

"God, Damnit, boy, I knew this would happen. You can’t control yourself, can you? Always chasing tail, and now a baby.” Drayton stood up at the start of his rant but now has sat down, looking almost deafted.

“Your mother will go ballistic once she finds out.” Drayton points his finger at Johnny, warning him.

“Shut it, old man! You got nothing to worry about; it’s bout time; we’re all getting old, and we gotta keep the family going.” He counters Drayton's words. 

It looked like Nubbins wanted to say more, but with Johnny quickly standing up and leaving, it was pointless. 

Dinner practically finished up after that fight, and I just sat there silently, not sure what to do. I was supposed to help clean up, but I sneakily decided to go find Johnny. Anyway, with all the commotion still going on with Nubbins and Sissy messing with Drayton, it’s best I stay away. 

I check the front veranda; Johnny has a few smoke spots he always goes to: the front, the back garden, and his shed. But luckily, my first guess was right, as I found him sitting on the outdoor bench. While walking to him, he quickly puts on his smoke, squishing it under his boot. “Shouldn’t smoke around you anymore.” He grins at me, and just as I take a seat, he places his warm hand on my stomach. 

“The second I saw you, I knew you were the perfect girl to have my kid. So fucking pretty, I'm going to look after the both of you, I promise.” 

His words send tingles all throughout your body; it’s electrifying. You place your hand over his, smiling back at him.

“Soon you’re going to get real big, darlin’; ya tits are going to get nice and fat too.” He teases with humour, but a familiar, hungry look starts building in his eyes. 

As he inches closer to me, his large hand moves away from mine and glides up, grabbing a breast. He squeezes it firmly before starting to massage it. His warm breath is on my neck as he kisses right below my jaw. Wetness begins to pool in my panties. 

“Run up the stairs to your room and undress before I take you right here.” As much as I wanted to tease him, it’s better to listen, or he really would take me here, in any position too. He gets very creative when he's horny. 

I get up and leave, going to my room just as instructed. I closed the door behind me and set myself on the bed to undress. I wore a blue sundress today, so I just unzipped the side and let it slip right off. Leaving me in my white panties. Even though it didn’t take me long to undress, it wasn't quick enough for Johnny. He was already here, striding in and locking the door behind him, already semi-undressed too.

“Come on, darlin', only your panties left to go; take em off for me.” I happily obliged, hooking my fingers into the side, purposefully bending over, and sliding them down. 

I look back to see the bulge in his jeans while he takes them off. Now he is just as naked as me. I will never get tired of looking at his body. His large muscles, pecs, sprinkled on chest hair leading down to his happy trail—the sight of his scars always makes me throb. Fuck, he is gorgeous.

With my ogling, I fail to notice him getting closer. Wrapping his large arms around me, he whispers into my ear, “I want you to take a seat on my face while keeping your mouth busy with my cock.” He groans before going to lay down on the bed. This is a new position, and with only a little hesation, I gingerly climb over him, placing my legs on the side of his head. Before I sink down, he grabs my hips roughly, bringing my swollen heat to his mouth. 

I gasp as his tongue slides back and forth over my clit. I lean further down, grinding my wetness along his mouth needing more. His impressive cock, comes into view, precum leaking out; it’s red and aching to be sucked. 

I lick his tip timidly before taking his whole length, making a sloppy mess while focusing on his head, I hear him groan as I go deeper. His grunting sends small, delightful vibrations along my clit.

My muffled moans fill the room as he holds me in place, my aching pussy being devoured while I simultaneously suck off Johnny. I hallow out my cheeks, pinch my lips, and let my tongue slide along his shaft. Working extra hard to get him to finish first. 

It's difficult; he knows exactly how to get me off. He knows where I'm most sensitive and what feels best. My plans to make him cum first are starting to falter; I'm struggling to even keep myself steady. I put my tired arms on top of his muscular thighs, giving them a rest. I take a deep breath and continue to encompass his cock, swirling my tongue along the base. I’m a little sloppy with the rhythm now, but I don’t think he cares. 

I can feel my orgasm building as Johnny doesn’t even stop for air, still sucking and licking my clit with undying hunger. His grip on my hips still remains strong, making me unable to pull away. 

My limbs are starting to become sore. Needing him to finish, I start sucking his cock faster, my salvia drenching him, making it easier for it to slide along my tongue. My moans turn to whines as my own orgasm is right on the edge. 

I feel him twitch in my mouth while his groans continue from below. "Fuck, I’m gonna cum." I choked out, stopping to take a deep breath. 

Johnny slides his hands along my thighs as his tongue stays strong, massaging my clit, while keeping a steady pace.

I take his throbbing length back into my mouth right before my orgasm hits. The force of it makes my legs turn to jelly while I moan incoherently around him. I try to move away, my clit becoming increasingly sensative, but his hands grip back to my hips, holding me captive while he moves his hot tongue in my cunt, licking up my juices as he thrusts himself deeper down my throat. Not letting me until he cums. 

I’m a whimpering mess; my thighs squeeze his face while I lick and sucking, getting him closer so my poor pussy can have a break. 

My efforts were deemed successful as his cock started to twitch and stiffen. With my last lick, he spills himself. He groans as his cock pulsates while I swallow his whole load. With revenge, I continue to suck him, knowing he's going sensitive. He hisses and quickly pulls me off.

“Naughty girl,” he chuckles, slapping my ass hard.

I yelp from the harsh slap and roll my body to the side, recovering from the intense orgasm. Johnny, too, lays still panting. I move up and lay my head on his chest. He throws an arm around me as we both relax into each other. 

Before I knew it, I'd fallen asleep on his chest. 

It's in the middle of the night that I wake up to long, thick fingers inside me, thrusting in and out slowly. 

“You awake, baby?” Johnny asks, now teasing my hard clit with his thumb. I moan out in response, gripping the bedsheets.

"Yeah, does that feel good?" His whispers, his face moving into the crook of my neck, his hardness pressing up against me.

"Ah-ah.” I try to say yes, but it’s morphed into moans.

“Fuck, your tight baby girl, gonna' feel so good when I put it in. He groans while I spread my legs further apart from his words. I'm going to cum soon with the way he’s going.

Instead, he pulls his fingers back, slides over on top, and plunges his hard cock inside me. He slips his wet fingers into his mouth, tasting myself, while his cock goes further deep inside. 

I groan out while he stretches me. A mixture of sleepiness and arousal makes me clench around him. Johnny, in turn, pulls out his fingers, replacing them with his tongue and pushing it into my accepting mouth as he starts a fast rhythm, pounding into me.

All noise is blocked out, except for my moans and the slapping sound of his cock fucking in and out of my sopping hole. 

“I'm going to keep you on my cock forever.” He groans into my ear, grabbing onto my swinging chest. Groping the fatty flesh.

I whimper at the thought of being his cock slave, as if I weren’t already. 

He sits up, holding my hips tightly in one hand, and as the other goes to rub my clit, I hold my tits, stopping their swinging from his hard thrusts.

“I'm going to be full of milk soon.” I moan out, teasing him, thrusting back against his cock. I felt his cock twitch as he groans, knowing he's imaging my tits spilling milk. The hand that was squeezing my hip goes to squish a boob, swatting my hand away and pinching the nipple.

I throw my head back in ecstasy and wrap my legs around Johnny’s waist, getting closer to my second orgasm of the night. 

“Ya' gonna' cum on my cock, sweetheart?” He teases, rubbing my clit achingly slow.

I whine as he also starts to stop his thrusting, keeping me on edge. Repeatedly pulling himself fully out of my cunt and slowly pushing back in. 

Not giving in to his teasing, Johnny takes his cock and starts jerking it, leaving me feeling empty and frustrated. 

“Use your words, darlin'.” He groans out, now stopping his rubbing on my clit, only focusing on getting himself off. 

“Please! Please, I want to cum.” I moan wantonly, fucking desperate for him to continue.

It’s not enough; he is still waiting. 

 

“please daddy.” I moan, testing out a new nickname.

It does the trick as he groans deeply, gliding his hardness back inside me and thrusting away.

Relief floods me when his cock goes back into my aching heat. I’m so close to finishing. 

“I-I-I’m cumming!” I cry out as my pussy squeezes him tightly. My orgasm sends Johnny over the edge as he cums just as quickly inside me.

“Fuck yeah, baby, cum on daddy’s cock.” He moans out, shoving himself deeper. 

I whimper from the overly sensative feeling of being filled and having two orgasms in a short amount of time. 

It’s been a few weeks, and my bump has become more visible. It seems each day I just keep getting bigger and bigger. It does help my confidence that Johnny just can’t seem to keep his hands off me since I’ve become pregnant. It’s like the animal inside of him has changed. Becoming more protective and sex-hungry.

I won’t lie. Being pregnant has been a nice change; I’m doing less labour. Sissy considers me too delicate, and she doesn't want to stress the baby. Drayton has even been forcing Nubbins to actually clean up the messes he makes; he didn’t listen until Sissy and Johnny got on his ass about it too. Three against one, it took him to actually listen. It’s mainly bone scraps he leaves around, always making new traps. He even showed me how he makes him; it was impressive, especially how well they worked on the animals nearby. He explains that it was Grandpa who taught him everything he knows, from killing, slicing, and cleaning his blade, "back when Grandpa was still in his killing form." He told me enthusiastically. 

It’s hard to picture Grandpa in his so-called 'killing form', even if it was years ago. He's just so old and motionless, but with the way he enjoys his blood, I can understand that he may have been more ruthless than anyone here. 

Having less work has made me bored, only spending time in the lounge. I’ve been trying to find my stuff to do. I have no more clothes to patch up or anything to make. And I’ve cleaned so much that there is barely anything else to clean. I need to find something to do before I go crazy.

Johnny has noticed me being a little slumped, so he decided to bring inside some dead rabbits and teach me how to skin them. How lovey. Though it did cure my boredom, even if it was gross, and he did a much better job than me, he made it look so effortless. It was like it was his thousandth time doing it. Unfortunately, it probably was. During my time here, I learned that Johnny is an efficient hunter. The skulls of the animals and other people he killed are used as decorations in the house. 

Those rabbits that we skinned went into a crockpot meal with mashed potatoe; Sissy made it with a bunch of herbs and veggies from her greenhouse. You can't get this type of fresh food in the city. Not including people. 

I decided to try and work on my baking skills, asking Drayton if he could bring back some condensed milk so I could try to make some caramel fudge. He agreed; we already have butter and sugar, so it wasn't too much of an ask, and let’s just say my caramel fudge was a hit. Everyone has a surprising sweet tooth. Maybe not too surprising, as the pantry was stocked with tubs of chocolate drink powder. 

So now during the day, to help my boredom, I've been baking treats and deserts, and it's nice that everyone likes my baking. Even Johnny, who seemed like someone who hates sugar, eats up the sweets much like everyone else. Sissy always gets excited to see what I've made for dessert. She tells me it's become her favourite part of the day. 

Time goes by, and so I get even bigger. Including my chest, I think it's doubled in size; it’s embarrassing how big I’m getting. It doesn’t help that Nubbins snickers around me, poking fun at the size of his chest; he called me a cow one day, and sweet Bubba, who would do anything for his family, smacked Nubbins really hard on the back, making the lanky man tumble embarrassingly forward on the ground. which I've believed humbled him, as I got no more teasing after that.

Some of the spare clothes I’ve had that were modest are now very form-fitting and showy, just because of my growing size. Thankfully, there are old male button-up shirts that I can use to give myself some dignity. 

I don't even know why I worry about my dignity when I let Johnny strip me naked and put me in compromising positions. Thanks to my growing breasts, Johnny couldn’t seem to hold himself back, and now we've been fucking everywhere, more than before.

One moment I’m relaxing outside in the middle of the day, the next I’m nude, riding his cock on the old, ripped-out car seats out back near his shed. I have to hold on to his shoulders tightly because he's making me go. Moving me up and down. He does it purposefully because he likes watching my tits bounce. 

Being pregnant has made everything more sensitive. So when he places his mouth over my nipple and pinches the other, I almost cum. At least fucking outside, I get to be loud. I just hope no one is watching. 

But as I get closer to cumming, the less I care if anyone can see. I’m enjoying myself. So I throw my head back, and I grind down on Johnny while I peak. Milking his cock through my orgasm, he squeezes my chest, holds me down tightly, and fills me up with his hot cum.

Just as my chest grows, so does my ass, so a day later I’m on all fours, holding the headboard for dear life, trying to keep my moans low as Johnny slams into me from behind. He smacks my ass as I thrust back onto him. He grips the fat hard. Making sure this time I finish from his cock alone. Just as I came, he pulls out and pumps himself until he shoots his load over my clit  and pussy, making a mess. He reasons that since I'm pregnant, he can decorate me with his cum. He's especially loves shooting his cum over my face and chest. It's nice that he makes sure I have an orgasm right before he does.

Yes, all my assets may be growing; but most importantly, my stomach is too, With the baby getting bigger, Johnny's softer side comes out.

So now he has a pillow under my hips while he slowly ruts his cock while softly sucking my nipple. He slides his hand over my body, feeling all the curves. He slides his hands down and up my leg till he brings it over to my clit, rubbing it in delicate circles. I groan; going slow is new, but fuck, it still feels good to get pampered like this. 

 

“We’re not fucking like this all the time, are we?” I'm still addicted to the hard and fast fucking Johnny is known for. 

"Nah, Darlin, I just like the way you glow tonight and want it slow.” He says this while ironically speeding up, causing me to whimper.

As my orgasm gets closer, I hold his face in my hands and stare into his handsome eyes. “I love you, Johnny.” I pant out as I cum around him.

“I love you too, doll,” he responds, filling me up with his cum and kissing me hard.