#u might just yell at a wall baby

[blondiest]

btw i had organic wine for the first time tonight. two different kinds. both were the worst wine i have ever had. literally truly bottom 2 wines of all time. sorry to the organic freaks out there but you're so wrong so often.

[tojipie]

mma fighter toji? (im so happy tk see that you’re back btw ❤️)

i really do think this is the best ask i’ve ever gotten pls feel proud of ur brain before u go to bed tonight bc ily. wrote this on the verge of falling asleep if u see any spelling error no u did not.

mma fighter!toji x reader | 1k words

content: violence, injury, blood, reader objectified by stranger

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“you got it, you got—don’t fucking look at her, look at me fushiguro!” your boyfriend’s manager yells, holding a bucket to the younger man’s heaving chest with a sigh.

toji nods at the command, taking a swig of water and spitting into the vessel before wiping his mouth with an ungloved hand. fighters never drank in the ring, it’d only settle heavy in your stomach. make you easier to catch.

blood and saliva drip down his chin and onto the floor of the ring, bright red patters against black mesh.

you watch the veins in toji’s neck pulse underneath sweaty skin, decorated with swirls of black and grey ink. his tattoos extend down his chest and back, working to cover the mess of purple and blue bruises across his body.

on his rib lies a scrawl of your name, etched into his skin for millions to see every time he stepped into the ring.

the raven haired man says something unintelligible to his team before smacking his temple with his glove, almost as if he was trying to knock something back into place.

you cringe at the thought of a brain injury so early into his career. you’d heard stories before, world class fighters reduced to shells of themselves. shot memories, seizures, even paralysis. you try not to think too deeply about it.

the TV screens in front of you pan to across the ring to his opponent. ryomen sukuna, 2 years into his career with every title under the sun.

everything except heavyweight champion. the name belonging to the winner of this very match.

sukuna was terrifying, completely unfazed by the rivets of blood pouring from his temple and left nostril. you’d quite literally watched him pop his nose back into place during the first break after your boyfriend had dealt a serious blow to it. to say this man scared you was an understatement.

toji notices your anxiety, leaning against the mesh wall of the ring to look down at you in the front row.

“you watchin’?” he yells with a grin, barely coherent over the mixed sounds of cheers and boos.

you smile, though your boyfriend scowls at the onslaught of paparazzi trying to capture the tender moment. he spits at the see-through wall of the ring to serve as an unspoken “fuck you.” cheers ring out from the sidelines as the screens capture the interaction.

toji turns to you and pushes off of the mesh wall, throwing his hands out with a “tsk” and a shake of his head.

“you worried about me baby?” he teases, fully aware that the cameras are still on him. “you don’t gotta worry about me, right?.”

you laugh, motioning for security to shoo any onlookers off. the mix of adrenaline and attention was clearly getting to him, though you loved when he got cocky like this. he always fucked you hardest after a big win.

the two men settle back into the middle of the ring, the referee separating them with an stern arm. sukuna looks down at you with an unreadable expression, pinning you to your seat with just a glance. toji’s pink-haired opponent turns back to him with a sinister grin, taking out his mouthguard to speak clearly. you only manage to make out the end of his insult, blood running cold as his words register.

“..and after they give me that title? i might fuck that little girlfriend of yours, fushiguro.”

toji says nothing, expression blank. you begin to wonder if he even heard the other man, but the buzz signifying round 3 pulls you out of your thoughts. you brace for whatever may come next.

sukuna is a brick wall, but toji’s light on his feet, weaving in and out of punches with his gloves guarding his face.

he’s faster than usual, spurred on by adrenaline and anger.

he lands a kick to sukuna’s ribs, the sickening crunch reaching the front row right on impact. definitely two, maybe even three broke ribs you hear a fan spectate.

his opponent curses, landing two punches to his chest before knocking toji to the ground, just barely missing the raven haired man with a solid blow right as he springs upwards.

“you gonna fuck her?” toji scoffs, landing another kick to sukuna’s injured ribs. you can barely make out their conversation even with a front row seat, you doubt anyone in the stands has been able to understand them this whole time.

the pink-haired man winces on impact, his first show of weakness since the beginning of the match.

“huh? tell me.” your boyfriend muses, dodging a kick and throwing sukuna to the floor. cheers ring out in the stadium at the direct show of brutality, you cover your mouth in anticipation.

toji settles his body weight on the man below him, twisting his arm as far as it will go while keeping his face to the floor. his legs wrap around and under the second man, squeezing his injured ribs like a vice with his thighs.

sukuna lands a blow with his free arm, then another, then another. toji does nothing, holding his opponent down with a smile almost too wide, too sinister.

“fuck.. fuck!” sukuna yells, struggling under the weight of the man above him.

the crowd is in hysterics, the announcers are out of their seats. “an unprecedented burst of energy,” you hear them call it. nothing like they’d ever seen before during any of toji’s matches.

you have to fight off the ego boost it gives you, knowing he’s only fighting this hard for you. because another man dared to speak on your name in his presence.

toji takes a couple more punches with that same smile, finally grabbing his opponent’s free arm to render the other man motionless.

you stagger out of your seat, running into the isle to get a better view of the ring.

the referee crouches by the two men, waiting to call the match. sukuna shares a look with third man, groaning before tapping toji’s wrist three times.

the crowd is animalistic. screams, wails, jeers, all of it meshes together within seconds.

toji’s security forms a circle around you, leading you towards the ring as fans flood the isles in celebration.

that was it, he’d won the title. Fushiguro Toji, heavyweight champion.

sukuna is led out of the ring by his team, choosing to forego any post-match interviews. he doesn’t dare look at you as he passes you on the steps, humiliated beyond belief.

calls of your name echo out from the center of the ring, your boyfriend pushing past paparazzi to scoop you into his arms.

the heat from his torso melts into yours as he clutches you to his body. he’s sweaty, practically bleeding from every direction too. but he’s smiling.

it’s not the smile he puts on for press, a quick flash of perfect teeth to keep the morale light, keep his sponsors happy. not the sinister smile he flaunts during matches either, fueled by bloodlust and pure adrenaline.

not even the cocky smile he puts on for the crowd when the match gets tough, the one that gets his opponents mad, gets the crowd hit and bothered.

this smile is soft, private. a small show of love in a sea of flashing cameras and prying eyes. this smile says “i love you, I do this for you.”

you reach for his face, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. toji wipes the blood—his— from your lips with a calloused thumb, pulling your head to his chest with a soft murmur.

“i love you.”

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

00.2. how did you and jack meet?

➴ warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 1k

➴ author’s note: mostly sophia’s first nhl concert and how she and jackie boy met. i spent the entire morning working on that Nonsense outro and i am gonna say that im very proud of it lmfao. hope u enjoy!

—♡

THE room looked full.

On the stage, you could feel dozens, hell, hundreds of eyes on you. Shanon had warned you that at least two hundred people were expected but damn.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our most expected guest for tonight, Sophia Montenegro!” A man’s theatrical voice was heard just before the first notes of Nonsense.

You and your team worked really hard to make this happen, because April flew by, really. Coachella was a hit and you got so many jobs out of it, it was crazy. But this was what you were looking forward to the most.

You sat on top of a piano, black dress shining with the lights directed at you. You smiled, feeling anxious and excited and maybe just a little bit nauseous too. There were men, women and children sitting in round tables in front of you, but what really caught your attention was the group of men sitting on the table right in front of the stage, all of them wearing shirts with your face in it. And they were screaming the loudest too.

“‘Think I only want one number in my phone, I might change your contact to ‘don’t leave me alone’.”

Singing for you meant living. It was a necessity, a need. Every time you stepped on a stage, you felt alive, you felt fulfilled. You felt like maybe you were on this planet for a reason, and that reason presented itself whenever the words came out of your mouth during a song.

So you enjoyed yourself, and watched as the other people did the same. Everyone seemed to enjoy the acoustic version of Nonsense— which you had never sung before, by the way— and it was so funny to see grown ass men singing the lyrics like their life depended on it.

“Lookin’ at you got me thinkin’ nonsense. Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in…”

“Please do the outro!” Someone shouted before the end verse and you giggled. You were already planning on doing it, but you gave the man a thumbs up either way.

“Shanon said I should keep it PG.

So, Father, I might need to be set free.

Because I really want a Devils in me.”

Loud cheers were heard and you smiled, biting your lip.

The rest of the little concert went well, and when you noticed it, you were dancing on the stage with another five players, who had two left feet and were probably a bit drunk too, but it was so much fun. One of them even asked for the mic so he could sing for a while too. You had the time of your life and you really hoped everyone else did too.

When the last song— Espresso— ended, you received a standing ovation. You felt yourself tearing up just a bit, and you closed your eyes, bowing your head.

“Thank you so much, everyone, I had so much fun tonight,” you started, voice wobbly and tired. “I didn’t know you guys were my biggest fans…”

“Nico here went to your concert!” Some guy shouted, pointing at the man— Nico, you suppose— beside him. You laughed, blowing him a kiss. The Nico guy looked like a tomato, face all red and cute, but he was wearing your merch too.

“Well, now I need to change and from what I’ve heard, we’ll have some delicious food and more amazing singers tonight, so please don’t leave!” You said, leaving the stage after another round of applause.

You found Grace in your dressing room, and you both hugged each other, yelling with excitement. “Can you believe this is our life, baby?!” Grace yelled, and you shook your head no. “I can’t either. Anyways. You have to change into a jersey and I have to take pictures of you with it.”

You looked at the jerseys hanging on the wall in front of you and smiled. “Can I have a Nico one, please?”

—♡

AFTER taking pictures with the players and their families— some of them had daughters who loved you as well—, you found yourself near the food table. You were deadass starving and you needed to get your hands on a hot dog before you passed out. Oh, and a drink as well. It was hot there.

“You got the wrong number on your back.”

You heard a playful voice behind you and you would’ve cursed, if you hadn’t had your mouth full of bread. You tried to swallow it all before you actually turned around.

What you saw was… interesting. It was probably one of the youngest guys in there, perhaps even the same age as you, and he had beautiful, blue eyes. He was wearing a white jacket and a Devils cap, so he was definitely one of the players on the team.

“Wrong number?” You asked, looking at your jersey again, the #13 plastered on your arms and back.

“Yeah. Should be wearing an eighty-six jersey instead.” He smirked.

“Let me guess. That’s your number?”

“That’s the best number. A girl like you shouldn’t be wearing anything less.”

You ignored the compliment (was it even a compliment?) and plastered a smirk on your face, too.

“I think I’m fine with Nico’s number on me. Since he’s the captain and all,” you shrugged. “He also went to my concert so that proves he is the best.”

“Sweetheart, you seriously need someone to show you what best means,” he stepped closer and suddenly your heart was racing all over again. “I happen to be the right person for it.”

“Right person?” You chuckled. “Got your hopes way too high, don’t you, lover boy?”

He shrugged, the confident smirk never leaving his face.

“Just an offer. You did say you wanted a Devils inside you.”

You audibly scoffed. This handsome ass man, with the tiniest bit of an accent and a huge lot of an attitude had some balls.

But then again. Last time you had sex with someone was a year ago, with your ridiculous ex-boyfriend, Harris. You were feeling pretty needy, but with all the work and energy you had to put into your performances, you just didn’t find the time to deal with other dipshits.

At least this one looks like he knows here your clit is.

You stepped closer, noticing how you tilted your head up so you could look into his eyes.

“Is the offer still up?”

He smiled, cocking his head to the side.

“For you, doll? It will always be.”

[jakexneytiri]

hii here are some ideas/deets from my last request <3

- scenario where y/n has like a super rough pregnancy and she’s always sick and vomiting. Lots of fluff but also kind of angst idk??!! the kids are worried abt her and neteyam as well so he takes on all 4 kids by himself and lets y/n rest

- neteyam and y/n have their 5th baby and the details on the birth and all the other kids meet the baby and its just a lot of fluff!! and jake and neytiri meet the baby too as well as loak, kiri, tuk

IM SO EXCITED IF U WRITE THESE OMG AND TAKE UR TIME <3

AWEEE i love your mind! (the second part of your request is comingggg, i’ll post it when it’s finished :D)

in sickness and in health

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

a sharp jolt of pain surges through your abdomen, forcing you awake as you sit up, wincing. you gently place your hand on your lower stomach, feeling strong kicks right where your hand is placed. you begin to take short, shallow breaths, as another kick lands just below your ribcage.

your mouth begins to salivate as you grab the pot closest to you. you knew the feeling all too well. it’s been happening every morning for the past several months. sweat beads on your forehead, collecting and dripping down your face, while your entire body feels like it’s overheating. that familiar feeling returns to the back of your throat, causing you to gag. you begin dry heaving, which turns into vomiting everything you consumed the night prior.

meanwhile, neteyam is just outside of your marui, peeking through the flap every now and then to keep an eye on you. truthfully, he’s been worried sick about you, especially these past few months. you both are familiar with all the symptoms of pregnancy. you’ve been pregnant four times now. but it’s never been this bad. so, he decided to give neytiri a page through his throat comm, hoping she might have some answers to your worsening symptoms.

“mother, is this normal?…yes, she’s still getting sick. it’s every morning, i thought you said that would stop. i don’t know what to do, how to help her…i feel so useless. i just want to ease her pain, please…” his voice cracks with his last beg. “please help me help h-” his ears perk up to the sound of you vomiting. “i must go. it is happening again. please send grandmother!”

neteyam quickly opens the flap, seeing you doubled over, emptying the contents of your stomach into the pot he set aside for you. guilt courses through him, settling like a rock in the bottom of his stomach as he hastily makes his way to you.

you feel your mate’s warm hand run along your back, attempting to comfort you while his other hand holds the braids out of your face. once you’re certain you’ve thrown up everything in your system, you sit back against the wall of your home.

neteyam goes to move the pot outside, as to not make you more nauseous. he grabs a bowl of water as he makes his way back to you, guilt clawing at his insides.

you slightly pull your knees to your chest, as best as you can with being pregnant, and bury your face in your arms, sobbing.

neteyam kneels beside you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. it broke his heart in two seeing you like this.

just then, you hear the flap to your marui open, revealing your four children, with jake, neytiri, and mo’at. neteyam looks up, glaring at his mother and father, speaking through gritted teeth. “i thought you weren’t supposed to be back for a few more hours.”

“yeah, we weren’t expecting this either. it’s an emergency, we gotta go.” jake quickly says, holding the flap open.

“what? dad-sir…i’m not leaving her!” neteyam begins to raise his voice, fist clenched at his side as his other hand is still rubbing your back.

“neteyam.” neytiri gently says. “we would not ask if it was not necessary.”

you give your mate’s arm a gentle squeeze, silently encouraging him to go. “it is all right,” you speak, your voice extremely hoarse. “grandmother is here, i’ll be okay.”

“we gotta go, now!” jake’s yelling now, and neteyam stands, quickly grabbing his bow before kneeling to kiss your forehead. “i love you. i’m so sorry, i’ll be back soon, okay?”

Neteyam turns one last time to lock eyes with you, before being yanked away by his parents.

“mama? where’s daddy going?” se’ayl asks, looking at the flap where her grandparents and father just exited.

i want to go with him!” tsantu states, a firm grip on the bow strung around his shoulder.

“mom, i’m tired.” txonuk yawns, stretching his arms above his head and curling up to your side.

nima gently stretches her hands over your protruding stomach, shifting them around a few inches. “wanna feel kicks!”

“children, please!” mo’at exclaims. “let your mother rest.” she begins taking out herbs and plants from her satchel, mixing them with water in a large bowl.

“it’s all right…” you say weakly. “daddy’s going hunting with grandma and grandpa, he’ll be back soon. you can’t go with him, it’s only a trip for adults. you know what, txonuk? mama’s sleepy too. how about we all lay down for a nap, and when we wake up, grandpa grandma and daddy will all be back!”

you shift forward slightly, so your head is resting on your pillow instead of your back. txonuk curls right up to your side, draping your arm over himself like a blanket. se’ayl and tsantu follow, laying beside you comfortably. nima rests her head on your stomach, ear perked up against your skin to “listen” to the baby. mo’at raises the bowl she’s been preparing to your lips. “drink, child. it will help with the nausea.”

you lift your head up, parting your lips just enough for the cool liquid to ease its way down your throat. “thank you, grandmother.”

mo’at nods, setting the bowl aside. “you may rest, i will keep watch until they return.”

“no, no…i can………..stay……………….awake…….” your eyelids droop with exhaustion as you speak, and as you speak your last word, they stay closed. you finally succumb to a comfortable sleep, as you wait for your mate to return.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

[moon-child-goddess]

Unspoken

College a/u Mattheo x fem reader

Summery: At a party Mattheo and reader flirt all night and a game of Truth or dare bring them together.  

Warnings: Flirting , All characters are 18 plus, Mentions of drinking, language, Blythe does say she wants have readers baby, let me know if there are others,

A/N: Blythe is a made-up friend for this.

The small ‘hangout’ had quickly turned into a full-blown party. There was over 40 people crammed into the house. Music was blaring so loudly it could be heard form down the road. The neighbors were definitely going to love that.

It took me a moment to push my way through the packed entry, dodging couples that were making out with no care in the world.  I scanned the crowd for anyone in my friend group, my eyes finally landed on him- Mattheo. He was leaning casually against the living room wall, dressed in all black, and a beer bottle swinging lazily between his fingers. He hadn’t noticed me yet. His Brown eyes searched the room as if looking for something, or rather someone.

My lips tugged up at the corners, and without hesitation I made my way through the crowd. My eyes never left his figure. I willed him to feel my gaze and look at me.  

It worked. His eyes met mine, and just like that, he kicked off the wall, his gaze locked in to mine. He pushed through the crowd with an effortless confidence, his lips curving into the smallest of smiles once he reached me.

“I need a drink if I am going to survive this.”  I yelled over the music, my voice a little breathless.

It was true; there were way too many people for my comfort, and I had only agreed to come because I was told it would be a gathering of 15 people.

Without a word, he nodded, his hand grabbing mine as he led the way to the kitchen. The air between us was heavy with unspoken words. He took a bottle off the counter and started pouring a drink. The soft clink of his rings against the glass was oddly soothing.  I jumped up and sat on the counter next to him.

Once he finished, he handed me the half-full red Solo cup, his fingers lingering on mine a beat longer than necessary. My breath hitched.

“Thank you,” I murmured, lifting the cup to my lips. The burn of the alcohol was immediate, but it didn’t distract me from the way he was looking at me, that sly smile still on his lips.

“Almost didn’t think you were coming, beautiful,” he said, his voice low, his arms crossed as he stood in front of me, showing off those toned muscles under his dark shirt. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth.

“And miss out seeing you? Never.”  I teased taking another sip of the drink, my eyes never straying from his.

His smirk deepened, and he leaned in just a fraction, closing the space between us. His hands rested on the edge of the counter, his fingers grazing my thighs. I could feel the heat radiating off him.

“Well, now that you are here, the night just got a lot more interesting.” He whispered pupils dilating.

There was so much eye contact.

I blushed, chewing on my lip again as I fought the growing heat spreading through me. Our faces had gravitated closer now, one small move and there would be no gap. I stared at him in awe, unable to speak.

“Careful,” He breathed, his voice coming out as a raspy whisper.” Keep looking at me like that and I might start thinking you’ve got other intentions.”

His eyes glimmered with mischief. A wink following.

Just as I was about to respond, a loud shout of my name broke the moment.

“Y/N!” it was Blythe, clumsily stumbling into the kitchen with Luna close behind. Both of them were clearly tipsy. Mattheo pulled away stiffly, standing straight up.

I slipped off the counter, Mattheo took another step back not moving to far away. His eyes stayed on me as I greeted my friends, his presence lingering. I couldn’t stop myself from stealing a glance back at him, my heart pounding in my chest. He was so beautiful.

“I will catch you later?”  His voice was low, tinged with a hint of impatience, but there was something else in his eyes—something a little more possessive.

I nodded maybe a little to eagerly. There was no way I wasn’t finding him later. Being around him was addictive. At this point we were a will they or wont they get together game.

His lips curved into a pleased smile before he turned back to the crowd. I shot my friends a scathing glare, which only made them giggle.

“Sorry. I didn’t know it was him.” Luna uttered an apologetic look on her face.  

I finished the rest of my drink in one go, ignoring the burn as I tossed the empty cup in the trash. Blythe looped her arm through mine, practically bouncing with excitement.

my cup before tossing it in the trash.  Blythe looped her arm around mine leaning into me.  She was smiling at me her perfect teeth on full display.

“Did he kiss you?” She asked with a tasing grin. There was a curious look in her eyes.

“No.” I mumbled, throwing my head back in irritation.

Reluctantly I followed her as she dragged me to the dance floor, but my mind stayed with him. Even in the midst of dancing, I couldn’t stop thinking about the small moments, those fleeting touches, the intensity of his gaze. He was too much, and yet, I couldn’t get enough.

An hour had passed, and eventually Theo herded the three of us to the study. Most of our group was gathered there sitting on chairs, couches and the floor. I plopped down on the couch next to Mattheo, and he immediately draped his arm over my shoulders. The movement was so smooth as is it was an everyday occurrence.

“Having fun?” He tilted his head to look at me better, his voice soft.

“Yeah.” I whispered.

My pulse began thudding in my ears.

“Good. How much have you had to drink?” He was always like this at parties, looking after me and worrying about how it was doing.

“Just the cup you gave me and half of Lunas beer.”  

He looked pleased at my answer.   

“I’m bored let’s play a stupid party game.” Enzo called out from the floor.

“Seven minutes?” A random person suggested.

There was a chorus of groans from everyone else. Mattheo’s arm around me tightened pulling me into his side. His jaw ticked, a clear sign of his frustration.

“Ok, how about truth or dare?” Theo grinned at the idea.

Murmurs of agreement passed through the group. Everyone shuffled into a sad circle, leaving Mattheo and I on the couch together. His fingers weaved through my hair absentmindedly as we watched the game begin.

The game began with Theo and Enzo.  

“I dare you to do 20 pushups while Pansy sits on your back.” Theo looked proud at his dare.

Enzo grinned his cocky confidence showing through.

“Easy.”  He set his drink aside standing up.

Once he was in position, Pansy sat down. The room chanted out numbers with each one he did. When he failed at the 15th one the room erupted in laughter. It was unlike him to fail that quickly; he was strong from years of playing rugby.

“It’s ok you are drunk.” Pansy tried to comfort him as she sat back down in her spot.  

Enzo stared at her a ghost a smile on his face.

They were cute- too cute. I almost threw up in my mouth I was envious of their love.

The game continued, nothing too serious, just rounds of lighthearted dares. At some point, Mattheo started to play with my fingers. It was mindless, but it made my heart stutter. There was no denying the more time I spent with him the more I wanted him. And he had to of known it.

When it was Luna’s turn, she wiggled her eyebrows staring down Blythe. She was totally up to no good.

“Truth or dare Blythe?”

“Truth.” Blythe’s accent slipped out thicker then usual.

Luna’s smile widened. “Fuck, marry, and have their baby, pick from this group.”

The room erupted in a chorus of teasing ‘oohs,’ but I could barely focus on it. My gaze flicked to Mattheo, whose eyes were already on me, his lips curling into that infuriatingly smooth smirk.

Blythe paused tapping her knee, pretending to think. “I’d sleep with you, marry Vis, and I’d want to have Y/N’s baby.” She lifted a finger with each answer.

“Damn right you would. Our baby would be so hot.”  I winked at her.  

Mattheo let out a loud laugh shaking me in the process.  His laugh lightened my soul. It was unlike anything I had ever heard.

“Y/N.” Theo looked at me clearly amused with whatever he had in mind.

I sighed inwardly letting out a groan. “Oh no.”

“Truth.” I was quick to say, yearning to disappear for a second.

“You are no fun! Are you secretly dating someone here?” His question hung in the air as I stuttered. Everyone’s expecting look were on me- on us.

A heavy silence followed. I had to swallow the lump in my throat before answering. My voice came out shaky.

“No.”

They didn’t believe me. I got a lot of side eye looks. But Mattheo and I hadn’t happened in the way they were thinking or imaging.

It was getting late, and I could feel the exhaustion settling in my bones. I needed out.

“I’m going to walk back to my dorm,” I announced, stretching my arms shaking them out they felt heavy.

Mattheo’s hand grabbed on to mine. “Let me walk you?” His voice was soft but insistent.

“Every princess needs a knight in shining armor to escort her,” I teased, my fingers brushing his as I pulled my hand back, so I could fix my top.

We walked mostly in silence, the occasional quip or flirty comment spoken to each other. As some point he draped his hoodie over my shoulders, the fabric was warm and smelled like him. It was as intoxicating as his touch.

We cut through a field, swinging our hands moving forward in silence.

“Truth or dare?” His voice was low, like he was preparing to do something important.

I raised a surprised eyebrow at the randomness of the question. “What? The game ended.”  

“Truth or dare?” He repeated not giving away anything he was up to, but his tone remained playful.

“Umm truth… I guess?”  

“Is this all in my head, or is there something here?”  the question was quiet and uncertain.

My breath hitched. The world seemed to stop. Was he asking what I think he was asking me. For a moment I couldn’t form words, there was no point in lying. Not now.

“It’s not in your head.”  I met his brown eyes as I spoke.

The expression on his face relaxed, pupils dilating. I reached my hand out to him silently asking him to take it.

“Truth or dare?” I asked.

I had butterflies in my stomach.  Why was I so nervous?

“Dare.” Mattheo’s answer came instantly.

I know exactly what he was expecting me to say, so I pretended to think for a moment tapping my chin. “I dare you to jump three times.”   

“Oh yeah?” He lifted one of his eyebrows fighting a smile. “I can think of a better dare.”

We were standing so close now. Our toes touching.  The confidence rolling off him was driving me insane. Here I was a nervous wreck, and he stood there confident as ever. As if he stood in the middle of a field waiting for a girl to profess their undying love for him every Saturday night.

“Oh, Can you now?” I was laying on the flirtatious tone thick, moving my hands over his shoulders. “And what would that be?”

“I dare you to kiss me.”  His words were a husky whisper.   

And before I could over think it, I stood on my tiptoes, closing the distance between us. The world faded for a moment, and it was just us, this kiss deep and slow. A promise to our future.

[httpsjeonglvr]

miles climbin into ur window js to makeout cuz he missed u sm on his mission

Creepin’

Of course :)

Chapter summary: Miles sneaks into your room in the middle of the night because he missed you but that led to the both of you getting in trouble

Aged up mile’s morales x reader

Also sorry for the spicy scene I got carried away anon.

You gasped when a figure came into your room from your window but it was quickly revealed to be miles who was wearing his spider suit. He took off his mask and shoes putting his hands up in surrender.

“Relax it’s me!” He chuckled as he walked over to you wrapping his arms around your waist as you kissed his cheek placing your book down. He laid in bed next to you pulling you on top of him

“Why are you here miles?” You hummed as he massaged your butt while leaning up to kiss your neck ignoring you, you groaned as he kissed your neck before sitting up on his chest making him groan as he looked into your eyes with a smirk.

“I missed you” He grabbed your hips and started to move you on top of him. You were used to him juts randomly popping up in your window in the middle of the night, or coming from long missions. He loved seeing you and had a really hard time being away from you for a long time.

“Damn I missed you so much” He groaned as you grinded on his lap before he pulled you back into his lips,he pushed his hands into your pants to touch your most needed spot. You let whimper moving against him harder as he groaned. “Mmm I missed you too”

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed, “roll over.” His verbal command was a bit moot, since his hand was already on her shoulder, gently pushing you to lay on your back.  He hovered above you for a moment, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Spread your legs,” he whispered; you’d only been waiting for him to say that to you. You did it unquestioningly, and he slotted himself between them with a low groan. He descended upon you, burying his face in your neck.  His hair tickled your cheek, and you fisted at the sheets to stop yourself from scratching him.

“Do whatever you want to me.” He latched on right away, a mess of lips and tongue and teeth all over her neck; everything in you fought to keep your moans down because you didn’t want your parents to know what’s going on. “Are you close?” You asked him softly, feeling him nod. “Yeah,” he mumbled, and his heavy breathing cooled your skin where it was still wet with his spit.  “Just a little longer?” “You’re not gonna give me a hickey, are you?” she whispered.“Not if you don’t want me to,” he replied.

“Just— make it quick, Miles my parents might hear,” you reminded him. “Right, yeah, 'm gonna come,” he promised, sending another chill over your body.  One of his hands moved down, holding your thigh as he thrust faster and faster— fuck, the headboard was about to hit the wall. 

Just as you looked up to see it slam once, you saw his free hand reach up and grab onto it tightly, blocking the impact with his knuckles. “Miles,” you breathed, an involuntary reaction to how deliberately sexy that was. “Say it again,” he requested quietly.“Miles,” you purred in his ear, and he grunted right against your ear— he didn’t stop moving entirely, just slowed down quite a bit as he rutted into you.

bonus scene:

“Y/N FUCKING L/N!”

You jolted in your bed when you heard your mom yell and turned to see Miles’ naked body covered in your sheets. Your mom slammed your door open followed by Miles' mom who started to yell in Spanish throwing her shoe at Miles who jumped up and slipped out of your bed before covering himself with his hands.

“H-hey mom!”

Miles tried to act like everything was normal but he just got yells in return from both ladies. You pulled Miles’ hoodie over your body as he hurriedly pulled his pants on trying to explain to his mom but she just dragged him out of your room and your mom did the same which led to an hour-long lecture.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

❤️‍🔥 12 with John Marino please 🥵

oop someone requesting my sweet Harvard King Johnny as I am sitting here procastinating on writing his segment of the 'let me love you series' that's suppose to be out today. 🤣🤣 I have never ran to my asks so quick, of course I can write some Johnny smut for you. 💞 i know he has a twin, don't know if he is married or expecting but it's fanfiction leave it alone.

200 Followers Celebration

"Wrap your legs around my waist."

One thing about John was that he knew how to make your legs shake to the point where you felt like if it wasn't for him strong arms wrapped around you, you definitely would of fallen. Right now is no different as your vacationing with him family in the Hamptons for two weeks before everyone parts ways for the end of the summer and both of you move across the country to Utah.

Of course what was suppose to be one last relaxing day in the sun, with his parents and his twin brother and his expecting wife. Might have turned into Johnny's wandering hands all day because 'fuck baby you look sexy in that bikini."

"Johnny not here." batting his hands away from teasing you too much like he would of preferred.

"Come on they're all busy looking at Iz's new ultrasound and listening to the baby kick. No one will never notice." He mumbles in your ear. As he takes his hand under the towel that was resting on your thighs and teases your inner thighs almost reaching where you crave him most before someone calls your name.

"Y/N" Iz yells your name further closer to the house where everyone is relaxing unlike you and John who are on the sand. "Why don't you both go in, I suddenly don't feel too good I think I am gonna lay down."

Nodding your head trying to form words as John looks at his family, a small knowing smirk on his lips as he watches you from his corner eye trying to form an answer as he rubs delicate little circles on your clit. "oh okay feel b-better Iz" you yell back, quickly turning to Johnny who can't help the soft laugh escape his lips. "Not funny" you whisper as you rest your head on his shoulder, letting yourself yourself get lost in the way he's teasing your core going down to tease your entrance but never actually slipping his fingers in. "Johnny we ca-can't" you stutter.

"yes we can." determination in his voice. "you have been teasing me all goddamn day in that bickini and I can't exactly turn to my brother and go 'hey will you excuse my girlfriend and I, I have to go fuck her brains out because he looks so goddamn good. But don't get any ideas mom and dad she has an IUD." he jokes.

"ah you wouldn't." you tease.

"if I don't get ruid of my blue balls in the next 5 minutes I might." kissing your sensitive spot on your neck.

"fine but not here in the water FAR AWAY from your parents please." Without warning he removes his finers leaving you to whine as a response.

"race ya." he says and suddenly he's off running to the water your not far behind, both of you laughing at his childlike antics sometimes despite the fact he was just begging to fuck you in broad daylight.

He catches you and carries you in the water far away enough from anyone else that they can't see anything or hear you whimpers. Only he was allowed to hear you moans when he was fucking you. "wrap your legs around my waist baby." As he pulls you into a kiss you listen to his directions, your stomach doing flips in anticipation for what's about to happen.

His back to his family, he attacks your neck as he slips his fingers back into your core, curving his fingers ever so slightly to fill your walls. "fuck Johnny." you moan lightinly in his ear, closing your eyes and tucking your head in his neck. "I need more." you sleepisly admit.

"oh yeah, you want my dick?" he asks but it comes out more as a statement and all you can do is moan in response. Taking one of your hands trying to pull at his swimtrunks but he stops you. "gotta use your words babygirl."

"please I need your dick, I need you to fill me up and make me feel good right here right now." you plead

"see was that so hard." he lightly bites your neck but not hard enough to leave a mark that someone will question later. He moves your bottoms to the side and pulls out his dick, shoving himself in you hard. All you can do is throw your head back in pleasure as you finally feel full for the first time since he started teasing you this morning. "fuck your always so tight for me." he admits as he starts to roll his hips

"yeah. right there don't stop please don't stop." as you attempt to meet his thrusts.

"fuck you feel so good. You don't even care where we are, you just wanted my dick so that I could fuck you dumb is that right pretty girl?" he asks as he takes on of his hands not holding your hips and moves it so that chin holding you to look at him. Although your eyes aren't too focused on him and that turns him on even more. Making his thrusts even faster, all you can do is moan, but he cuts off your moans with a hungry kiss. "you know I love your noises baby but not here okay." As he steals another kiss from you, and that's all it takes for your core to flex around him as you cum. Johnny not far behind from the pulsing of your core.

[mooodyblue]

How would elvis take care of his girl on her period? Could be a little reader or not <3

Currently on mine and your post are helping so much 😭

you got it !!! hope you feel better <3 mine get rough!!! will literally be hunched on the floor crying 😫 ty for the request! hope this makes u feel a little better !

wc: 815

every single day you check the calendar on the wall, keeping track of your own cycle to prevent any mystery stains appearing out of nowhere in bed or on the couch. except this week, she decided to come a little early and much stronger than ever. thankfully you caught it in time, especially with elvis having his friends over today.

there was a part of you that wanted to beg elvis to keep the house empty today. you wanted elvis all to yourself but he was just so happy to have his friends over.

you felt like you were dying. like someone was taking your insides and squeezing them with all their might. but you took it like a champ, pain still clear as day on your face as you smoothed out your dress in the mirror. you checked yourself throughly in case you were leaking, hopefully you weren't. but lord–you felt awful. if you felt it, you probably looked it. you stared into the mirror a little longer than you'd planned, not even realizing elvis was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

“and you say i hog the mirror.” he joked.

you turned your head to look at him, sighing. “sorry.”

he walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. his warmth brought you much needed comfort, easing your pain slightly. “you alright, honey?”

the question made you burst into tears, shaking your head. you didn't even know why you were crying, it wasn't really that big of a deal.

elvis panicked, turning you around to face him as he cupped your face. “hey, what’s wrong? why the tears, baby?”

“i’m hurting so bad.” you sobbed, muffling your face in his shoulder.

elvis was taken back by the sudden sobs, unsure of what to do. opting for rubbing your back gently. “what's…what are you-” oh. he looked in the mirror, noticing the small, subtle blood stain on the back of your dress that only he could see.

he pulled away from you to shut his bedroom door. nobody was allowed upstairs to his bedroom, but it didn't hurt to be extra careful. he looked at you nervously, “you’re..uh..the back of your dress…”

“fuck–seriously?” you turned around in the mirror again, pinching your dress to see the stain.

the commotion downstairs only made you more upset, not wanting to deal with anyone else today. elvis held his hand up, “alright. here's what we’re gonna do.” he took you by the shoulders. “you’re gonna get yourself comfortable and get right back in bed, i’m gonna go deal with the guys. you tell me what you need ‘n i’ll bring it back up here.”

you wiped your tears, sniffling. “no, it's okay. i’ll just meet you downstairs.”

“honey,” he said sternly. “it's not okay. i don't like seein’ my girl like this.” he pressed his lips against your forehead. “is it bad this time around?”

you nodded sadly, “it’s awful. i feel awful.”

“well, you definitely don’t look it.” he grinned, brushing your hair back.

that brought a smile to your face, his words making you feel a little more at ease. “funny.”

“just tellin’ the truth. now, what do you need? i can run and get you whatever you want.”

“um…” you thought for a moment.

“you good on pads? what about somethin’ for the pain? water? what about-”

you placed a hand over his mouth to shut him up, “elvis, i’m okay. really. i think i’m fine.” you chuckled, removing your hand. “thank you.”

“alright, alright. i’ll–” he was interrupted with the yell of his name down the steps, causing him to roll his eyes. he made his way to the door, “you just get your pretty self right in bed and i’ll be up shortly to join ya. imma take care of you today, that's a promise.” he winked before going downstairs to deal with his friends.

doing as he said, you got yourself cleaned up and into to a fresh pair of pajamas, getting yourself cozy in bed as another wave of pain rushed through your body. elvis returned shortly, frowning at you hunched over in bed gripping at the sheets in pain. “and you said you were fine.” he sighed, pills in his hand and glass of water in the other. you took it immediately, downing the pills and water without any hesitation. “easy, girl.” he rubbed your back.

you handed him the glass, “i need you to rip out my uterus.”

he laughed, “yeah….uh..not doin' that. sorry, darlin’.”

you whined, making grabby hands for him. “want cuddles then.”

“that i can do.” he dimmed the lights in the room, turning the tv on and got under the covers with you. he wrapped his arms securely around you, rubbing at the sore areas. “feelin’ better?”

“much better.”

[sunlightandsuffering]

I'm fiercely attracted to Cabin Eren because in my mind besides being a perfect husband, he's also the most buff version of Eren. Hobo Eren was living off rations as as an eldian living in the internment zone & Manbun Eren spent an entire month living in a jail cell. Both of them weren't eating well or doing much physical activity. Meanwhile you know for a fact Cabin Eren was eating full meals with Mikasa after spending the day, chopping wood, hunting, fishing, etc.

I bet he got so broad and beefy and Mikasa definitely loved it! Mikasa drooling over how much bigger he's gotten, how much more of the bed he takes up and how easily his body completely covers her when they fuck. Her just admiring his naked back in the morning before hugging him from behind trying to wrap her arms around him 🥰

OKAY U ARE SO RIGHT FOR THIS THO!! LIKE UR SO CORRECT ANON!! THATS WHY HE'S SO BEEFY!! This si so funny tho i was writing this in switch last night lol 😂

One thing about Eren that Mikasa has always liked is his gym obsession. 

It’s hot, there’s no sugar-coating it.  A boy who goes to the gym and works out is hot. 

Even hotter because it shows, shows in almost everything he does. Eren might be on the leaner side, not built like some of the linebackers he’s always yelling about on TV, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s a wall of solid mass these days. 

He’s built subtly and in a way she likes more than some of the massive guys she sees at the gym, getting a peak when he wears shirts and the sleeves stretch just a little tight around his biceps and the muscles of his back, leaving the lower part loose. 

It’s also in how confidently he can lift her up, not even flinching when he drags her onto his lap, throws her over his shoulder, how he manhandles her. 

God, it gives her the shivers just thinking about it, and he’s so much taller than her these days, she gets butterflies when she has to look up, when she can’t so easily brush her hands through his hair, has to stand on her tippy toes to tease him now.  It’s hot, he’s hot, and so Mikasa will take absolutely any opportunity offered to accompany him to the gym, even more so because Eren going to the gym is an almost otherworldly experience. 

As a resident gym rat Eren partakes in many gym rat things such as pre-workout and protein shakes and as Mikasa watches him dutifully from the kitchen counter, she counts her lucky stars that she gets to watch. 

He’s currently scooping a suspicious looking white powder into water for it to dissolve, wearing a t-shirt that’s stretched taut around his biceps, forearms on display as he mixes the substance into his cup.  “So, what’s that again?” Mikasa asks for the tenth time and Eren shoots her an exasperated smile, “Baby I told you it’s Creatine.” 

“That tells me nothing.”  He hums at her, shutting the large cannister and grabbing another one from the cupboard, now scooping a different substance into a blender bottle.  He humours her questions though, answering with more patience than she’d ever have, “It’s basically a supplement that helps me bulk up, good for muscle growth and if you’re going to the gym a lot people tend to use it.”  “But you already look really good,” she breathes shyly, the words almost unconscious as her eyes catch on where his biceps strain against his grey t-shirt. 

[kinnbig]

re: wip ask game, can i bother you about let me live in your mind new chapters ;u; let me live in your mind lives in My mind, frequently

thank you so much 🥺🥰 you're not bothering me at all! I'm so sorry I've been taking such a long time with this fic - I have a lot of both remaining chapters already written, and all of it is planned out. I'm just struggling to get it actually finished :/

but here's a lil fluffy snippet from the next chapter for you!:

"Here you go," King says gently, pressing the warm mug into Ram's waiting hands and brushing a kiss to the top of his head. 

Ram's eyes are soft as he blinks up at him. "Thank you, love."

King nearly drops his own mug. 

Love. Love. 

Ram doesn't do pet names. 

Love. 

"No problem," King says quickly, frantically attempting to school his face into something neutral. 

If he makes it a thing, if he makes it weird, Ram might not call him it again. 

He really, really wants Ram to call him it again. 

Preferably every day. Or always. Just constantly. 

He collapses onto the sofa and buries his face against Ram's neck to hide his grin. 

King has tried out a number of affectionate pet names on Ram in the few months that they've been together, with varying levels of success. Ram would kill him if King called him nong in public, but when they're alone it makes him shy, his cheeks flushing pink and pretty. He immediately hates anything cutesy; quickly shutting down darling and honey and countless other endearments with a sharp, dissenting glare - but when King had called him baby, in English; gasped into his mouth as Ram pressed him against the kitchen wall - well. He'd liked it a lot, if the bruises still healing on Ram's knees are anything to go by. 

But for all King's attempts, Ram has never called King anything other than his name, or simply Phi. It's not that King has minded; Ram uses even his name so little that somehow P'King manages to feel like an endearment in itself. Ram calls him Phi even as they fuck, and honestly King could never have known that the sound of his own name could turn him on so much. 

But Ram just called him love. He called him love completely spontaneously, without King even asking him to. Just as an endearment, just because he wanted to; not even to flirt or seduce King or turn him on. Ram just wanted to call him that. He thinks of King like that. 

King struggles against the strange urge to yell in delight against Ram's neck. 

"I love you," he says instead, hoping it comes out quiet enough that the smile in his voice isn’t too obvious. 

He feels the laugh rise in Ram's throat, low and affectionate, the vibrations humming softly against his cheek. 

[yuukei-yikes]

why do you hate the 2nd manga route?

WHOA WHOA HEY HEY HEY WHOA HWOA WHOA WHOA HEY HEY MAN LETS TALK ABOTU THIS HEY HEY WHOIA *acts like im being robbed*

i DONT HATE THE SECOND MANGA ROUTE I DONT I DONT I DONT i really dont. the more i deny it the more it seems im lying but i truly dont hate it LOL its just..... VERY different from the regular routes and im. very. particular. about things changing from what i am used to. my friends keep linking me to something called the autism test but dont worry about it

and while i was reading and seeing the story i am so, so used to and SO, SO obsessed with be so different i was very. not super happy about it. after noticing it was some sort of origin story i kinda started liking it though. i keep saying shit like skip it and etc because i wouldnt call it beginner friendly likeee i rly would place this route as the LAST kagepro thing to consume out of everything else lmao NOT BECAUSE I DISLIKE IT but bc like A LOT FUCKING HAPPENS its so difficult to keep up with it and also i read it once and it was a while ago so. idk i might be misremembering and it might not be that confusing but nah im pretty sure anyone can agree with me. it differs a lot and its like a lot happening

.......BUT. there IS one thing. i do fucking hate. like truly truly hate. and makes me just be like eugh to the whole route because they just DONT. GET. SOMEONE RIGHT. AND IT MAKES ME SO FUCKING. INSANE. yes baby. im gonna talk about harutaka. more particularly takane. lost days happens to be the only bit of second manga route ive reread a few times too and i have very. very. very strong feelings about it. UNDER THE CUT THOUGH. IM NOT SO EVIL TO MAKE U SCROLL THRU IT <3

(warning spoilers for second manga route lol also lots of swearing and me being. honestly an annoying person. dont take my yelling to heart please i am just very passionate) (and when i say you or call u stupid i do not mean you as like the person sending the ask or anyone reading. imagine im talking to a wall i just need to get my feelings out)

TAKANE WOULD NOT FUCKING KILL HERSELF IF HARUKA DIED YOU IDIOT PIECE OF SHIT IM GOING TO RIP ALL MY HAIR OUT I FUCKING HATE THIS SOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH AND ALSO IDIOT THEY WOULD NOT JUST NOT SEE HARUKA BC SHE'S LIKE OMG HE HAS ANOTHER FRIEND BWAAAH BWAAAAH ARE U STUUUUUPID ARE YOU STUPID ARE YOU ACTUALLY STUPID INSIDE OF UR HEAD.

everyone: omg vinnie u must be so happy with the harutaka in second manga route they reunite theyre so cute

me: *throws up inside a bag*

ok. let me make exactly 3 points.

1. haruka and shintaro become bffs4ever in the regular route too. haruka and takane are friends BEFORE haruka and shintaro become close in the regular route too. haruka and takane meet secluded, just the 2 of them with only each other, BEFORE haruka and shintaro become close in the regular route too. there is. absolutely no fucking reason for this takane to just be THAT insecure about haruka having a new friend. like absolutely none. what is the reason. that she's not in the hospital anymore? that she doesnt meet shintaro alongside haruka? that ayano isnt in the picture? none of these things should MATTER to make that big of a change. the only thing i can imagine is the fact takane sort of has to leave the setting where he's usually at arms reach to haruka and she felt replaced? but that's like such a reach and it MAKES NO SENSE. AND SHE WOULD NOT DO IT. TAKANE WOULD WALK IN THERE WITH ITS SILLY LITTLE GIFT BAG and even if they did get jealous/feel insecure, he'd do it AFTER FUCKING WALKING IN AND VISITING HARUKA. real takane would NOT LET ANYTHING come between them and seeing haruka. u are sick in ur head and its WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. takane would be happy haruka has a new friend even if she doesnt like shintaro. her "selfishness" as they'd call it to see haruka would be stronger than any kind of "waaa im no good for him he has another friend i better leave then he HATES me" girl no lmao takane's desire to be by haruka's side will always be stronger than any insecurity. this is fundamental to the whole fucking "haruka i love you" thing. it is fundamental to ene and shintaro, bc she feels this kinship over being a "selfish" person. idiot. ugh. this pisses me off so much.

2. takane. would not. KILL HERSELF OVER HARUKA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY. WOULD KNOW. HARUKA WOULD WANT THEM TO LIVE THE LIFE HE CANT. AND EVEN IF THEY DIDNT KNOW SHED END UP REASONING IT. hi. headphone actor. have u read it. have you. hey. TAKANE DOES NOT WANT TO DIE. even if the world was ending. takane would not. want. to die. takane wants to live. id add the screenshots but tumblr wont let me add pics in my huge insane text but its in the second novel last headphone actor chapter, azami(?) tells takane even if they go back out the daze there is no place left for her and takane says that's fine, they'll find somewhere. they will make a place for themselves. takane would NOT. kill itself. especially not because of someone else. even in a world where no red eye shit happens and haruka dies of his disease naturally and takane would still just grow up without him. ofc itd hurt like hell and it'd mourn her like crazy but they wouldnt kill themselves over it. oh my god. u fucking UUUUGHHHH IT PISSES ME OFF SO BAD YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HER AT ALLLLLLL IM GONNA EXPLODE. yuukei quartet where the healthy pair wanna kill themselves but the unhealthy pair wanna live so bad *my descent into madness is complete* anyways. TAKANE WOULDNT COMMIT SUICIDE. also its fucking ridiculous that they'd do that and end up involved in the red eyes shit by the PURE COINCIDENCE that they kill themselves that day over something unrelated like LMAO thats fucking stupid and love interest syndrome shit dont you DARE do my guy enomoto takane like this. dont you DARE. TAKANE. WOULD NOT. COMMIT. SUICIDE. LET ALONE. OVER. HARUKA.

and 3. take ive read maybe twice but have made me so angry theyve burned a place in my heart waiting for the day i could get an excuse to get it out is... people saying the harutaka in this route is the best because "takane doesnt treat haruka badly like she does normally" erm. ur an idiot. GOD i fucking know the whole tsundere punches crush trope fucking sucks but honest to god anime DOES THAT and everyone in universe takes it lightly bc ANIME. DOES THAT. and its obviously not as SERIOUS as it would be in real life and i will tell u what we do we IGNOREEEEE it bc it adds fucking nothing. like get some fucking nuance come on we got a whole other character like kido telling her brother who was beat as a kid that they wont stop punching him "for his own good". i think we can realise when the writer is being stupid instead of being like yeah these people that dont exist are bad people and abusive. girl no like just stop theyre fictional, someone is WRITING THEM.

and in hs takane's attitude towards haruka in regular routes is grumpy, YEAHHH OFC and theyre snarky and rude and pushy and whatever u want but also god hes a 17 year old with a stupid crush and yknow WHAT I LOVE about them which is HOW i got so obsessed with these 2 in the first place. that theyre friends first and foremost. its always shown and said takane is haruka's most direct support and something that fucking irks me in some fan content is takane being portrayed as this blushing mess that cant talk to haruka GIRL u dont UNDERSTAND THEM. theyre best friends. takane is normal to haruka even if she gets flustered sometimes. like... idk yknow how in the sixth novel i think its like the first lost days chapters where takanes chewing haruka out for not drawing anything yet and generally being a huge bitch but like. thru the whole thing she's described as like smiling and sorta just fucking with him. bc theyre in a truly ridiculous situation and yeah haruka doesnt receive it lightly he thinks shes being harsh but like wow. takane is a flawed character who would fucking imagine do u want a fucking medal like thats THE POINT why do u think this bitch just swallowed her feelings and shit and like shintaro drowned in their guilt and self hatred for 2 years. are u serious. obviously takanes attitude to haruka in highschool isnt the best but also that is the POOOOOOOOIIIIINNNNTTTTTT. why do you THINK she feels so much self hatred. and also despite that THEYRE BEST FRIENDS WHO HANG OUT AND LOVE EACH OTHER and haruka thought highly of her and adored her and ough ok this is about takane dont get me started on haruka but like. yeah she is harsh and silly abt its crush but theyre best friends first and foremost is nice to him and usually people like when people are nice so haruka likes her. there's loads of instances where takane is as nice as they are in the second manga route. so jot that down.

takane's love interest syndrome in second manga route. literally the most tragic thing in the world. i do ADORE the goodbye she has with shintaro like that bit is genuinely one of my all time fave kagepro moments and it is from this route but second manga route takane during the prequel bit??? absolutely fucking TERRIBLE. NO ONE UNDERSTANDS HER LIKE I DO. NOOOOO ONE. AND HAVING THIS "CANON" SHIT TREAT THEM THIS WAY MAKES MY BLOOD BOIL. i hate it so much to the point yeah i could say i fucking hate the second manga route. like i just wrote this huge ass text that i spent *looks at time*a whole hour writing so im all fired up and ofc when i calm down im gonna say waht i said at first like No i dont hate this route bc truly i dont but i hate this takane thing so fucking much i might as well just hate the whole route. do not fucking mess with my blorbo. i didnt have it under the microscope for 10 years only for you to do this to it.

manga: i give you haruka pov!

me: YAYY

manga: in exhange of takane getting love interest syndrome <3

me: WAIT WHAT

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ALEXIS MY ANGEL call me yan!gojo bc i would do ANYTHING for u ………

ALEXIS I LOVE YOUUUUU YOU’RE SO SWEET 😥😥😥😥😞😞😞😞😞 cried reading this UR APPROVAL MEANS SM i’m always chasing it to be clear but since this is ur concept i wanted to do it justice so bad 👉👈 I LOVED WRITING IT BUT I WAS NERVOUS PSHJDDJ so ur words mean the world to me!!! T_T are ur studies going well btw… are any profs giving u trouble……. asking for no particular reason………

have i ever told u that ur descriptions are beautiful. have i. i'm sure i have but i'll say it again. ur writing just makes me feel things i 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

now what if i kissed u silly 🤨🤨 ALEXIS I MELTED INTO A PUDDLE don’t do this to me ……. sniffle. u are so kind. thank u 😥😥😥😥 every time i read ur writing i am consumed by a primal need to eat it all in one bite so i can carry it w me wherever i go so i just feel so warm knowing u like mine too T_T we are holding hands in my brain always

I LOVE how u explain his thought process. the inklings of a yandere. a man that is willing to bend his morals and skirt the law because he just wants u to be happy. mwah. mwah mwah mwah. i love yan!gojo with my whole heart

I CAN’T TELL YOU HOW OVERJOYED I AM THAT THIS YAN!GOJO GETS YOUR APPROVAL that’s all i want!!!!!!!! i am in fact kicking my feet and giggling happily AND I’M SO GLAD U LIKED THE GOJO CHARACTERIZATION IN GENERAL i wanted to make him extra sickly sweet in this to get that yan contrast yk ….. he is soooo willing to bend his morals bc u are the Light of his life the center of it all!!!!!! he’s so smitten it’s crazy

not talking abt gojo but acc fuck this guy i'd be so pissed off 😭ALSO??? TEACHER!GOJO BYEEE i love canon teacher gojo ofc but making him good with kids and making him good with TODDLERS IS A WHOLE DIFFERENT THING... i just know he loves his students... i just know they cling onto his legs... i just know he yells at them when they go too high on the 5-foot rock wall bc he's a tiger parent around them... i just know he plays tag with them and pretends to get tired when he runs so they can tag him... i just know...

ALEXIS STOP STOP IT RN WHATTT ARE U DOING TO ME ,……… HE’S A TIGER PARENT HE’S A PAPA BEAR 😔😔😔😔 YOU’RE SOOOO RIGHT HE’S SO PROTECTIVE SO SWEET SO PLAYFUL ….. he sees all of them as his own kids LMAO i think he would be jealous of their parents . like wdym he can’t adopt them all… wdymmm they aren’t his….. he literally carried every single one of them for nine months </3 he would cry when they graduate i just KNOW it he’s so so sniffly and sad :(((( baby boy

get that professor OUTTA there and put me in his place tf 😭😭 why does such a horrible person get to be so up close nd personal with him ion get it 🙄🙄🙄0/10 fic if u really loved me it would've been me in his place /j

NOT THE JEALOUSY???????? 😭😭😭😭😭 okay ill keep that in mind for the knight!sugu fic pls know that any character that touches suguru is inspired by you and only you 🙏🙏🙏 all roads lead to alexis etc etc

IM GONNA HURLLL there's something so vulnerable about yan!gojo who knows what he's doing is wrong but it's all for the person he loves so it doesn't matter.. it's so tragic :( thank god this isn't an actual story bc it would not end well for him

THIS….. he’s soooo self aware maybe a lil plagued by guilt…. one line i considered putting in was (there’s nothing wrong with me. there’s nothing wrong with this.) from gojo’s pov but i figured that might be a bit too on the nose 😭😭 in my brain there’s this gap? that yan!gojo has… where he wants to protect u but also wants to be someone who deserves u. a good person. so he overcompensates for the yan tendencies in every single other area he can ….. yan!gojo core is killing a guy and then getting ur fave take out on his way back to make up for the blood on his hands <33

idk if this is intentional, but i love ur use of nicknames in this. all the classic "baby" and "honey" ones are used normally, but "angel" is only used once (other than the title!).. bc bc. guardian angels are supposed lead humans to salvation but if anything, reader unintentionally corrupted him past the point of no return, but in his eyes, the reader is an angel that he serves (an angel whose commands he follows, an angel who only represents good and light, so obviously what he's doing is justified)🙏i love it 🙏i also think it's the only nickname where he uses "my" in front of it and that just adds a whole other layer i just. wow.

ALEXIS??? U LITTLE GENIUS????? the angel motif was planned but i didn’t even realize i only made that petname possessive in tone… it’s canon now though ‼️ DISREGARD MY PREVIOUS STATEMENT ‼️ this was planned all along <333 BUT GRRRRR ALEXIS u are always so thoughtful and attentive it blows my mind!!! the angel motif ended up becoming such a central part of this fic pdhjdjd BUT U GET IT OFC U DO…. reader unintentionally corrupting him…. gojo viewing you as something almost other-worldly in how important u are… it’s like. you’re his guardian angel and he’s yours right back but in both cases it ends up twisted 😵‍💫😵‍💫

ok first of all these sentences are so beautifully written but i also love how he thinks about loving you. it's honestly 😭im kinda getting denji/makima vibes if denji/makima was a decent ship and makima was a good person yk 😭 AND I MEAN THAT WITH THE BEST OF COMPLIMENTS.. like the way the reader just controls him without even knowing, the way he would do anything (and literally everything) for the reader, etc. etc. reader's got the boy wrapped around their finger and they don't even realize i love it

SNIFFLE ALEXIS I AM HUGGING U GENTLY </3 im so glad u liked those lines they r the bread and butter of this fic tbh … BUT ALSO DENJI/MAKIMA????? ALEXIS????? I’M LOSING IT GRRRR HOW DID U KNOW I’M ILL ABT THEIR DYNAMIC…. 😞😞 no bc i can’t believe i didn’t think abt that… literally my fave example of the angel/dog dynamic….. it’s so perfect bc denji (my perfect little angel boy <33333 i kin him) isn’t malicious he’s just full of trauma and a yearning for love that he can’t satiate in a normal way :(( so he just clings to this goddess figure in his life… devoting everything to her….. it’s sooo yan!gojocore like truly you can do no wrong in his eyes. ”if my girl is wrong i will simply reshape reality so that she’s right” bf

all the orpheus/eurydice, heaven on earth, angel, the title imagery makes me want to gnaw on this fic until im left with the bones. like the reader isn't even human to him anymore. if anything, instead of guiding him to salvation, they are his salvation and i just mmm. mmmmmm. i need him

U GET IT U GET IT U GET IT U GET ITTTTTT reader is his salvation!!!!! so true!!!!!! you are all that is good!!!!!! and he’d do anything to keep ur light from dwindling out :(((( he makes me feel a little ill i’ll be honest THIS IS ALL UR FAULT ALEXIS my thoughts r filled with this silly little beast </3

ARIII IM GONNA CHOKE 😭what did reader do to him to make him this delusional i wonder.. it doesn't even matter bc this is so well written. the way he thinks he's protecting the reader, and in a small sense he is, but he keeps it a secret bc he not only KNOWS its wrong, but he also knows that the reader would be horrified/disgusted if they ever found out. and he's not as delusional to think that his actions will never come back to him either, but for reader, he'd do anything i just... i just....

alexis have i mentioned that i would do literally anything for u……. u just Get it so effortlessly i’m so happy this could get even a sliver of ur approval i am feasting on all ur words HE’S SO….. he’s soooo Sane he just doesn’t really care abt the consequences…. he’s a spider masquerading as a butterfly thinking he can trap all flies that touch you in his web but one day one of you will be tangled up in it and that’s just so :((( yan!gojo is so Doomed. he wants to be a good man so bad but he wants you to be happy even more. sniffle.

IM KISSING UR FOREHEAD AGGRESSIVELY + SPINNING U AROUND !!!!!!!! this made my whole year alexis u are so sweet to read this and to write this out it means sm to meeeee T~T AND TYSM FOR BRINGING YAN!GOJO INTO MY LIFE he made it worse <3333 i love him though. our deranged little bug boy. I LOVE U ALWAYS if u need me to threaten any prof at any given moment hmu <33

you’re an angel, i’m a dog ; satoru gojo

synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.

word count; 4.3k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.

a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

”haah…”

— the sigh spills into the air, dripping with exhaustion, a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching.

just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.

another sigh. deep, exasperated — from satoru, this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment. 

”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”

you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.

”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”

he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”

then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.

even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.

but you just won’t listen.

”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”

a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.

”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”

at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.

”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”

and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to findist you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.

time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right. 

of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.

still, though.

”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”

you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”

”my little night owl.”

that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.

with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”

satoru softens. 

(always so good to him.)

”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”

in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.

he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.

satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease. 

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.

so he’s been worried.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.

he just doesn’t trust your professor. 

that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.

it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.

(it was only a matter of time.)

satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.

and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —

it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.

it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled. 

there’s only one way to satiate it.

so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.

then he grabs his coat and slips outside.

the moon is visible through the window.

a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast. 

(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)

”who… w — what are — ?”

satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure. 

just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick. 

he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.

he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.

he just can’t bring himself to care.

”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”

silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat. 

it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.

satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”

another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.

then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”

the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.

before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”

it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair. 

he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. 

but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.

a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.

the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.

finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve. 

three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly. 

there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact. 

that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.

(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?

it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)

there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.

and there you are.

on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes. 

you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.

suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.

“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”

his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.

“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.” 

he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch. 

but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.

satoru would never cage you in. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious. 

so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.

(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)

“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.

“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. this one’ll hide the stains better. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”

“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”

satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat. 

and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance. 

“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”

and he grins. like clockwork. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”

again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”

“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”

and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.

“right! i almost forgot!” 

then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.

he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.

but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance. 

satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.

you, you, you. the only thing that exists.

all of him is for you.

”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw. 

”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting, slipping from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”

”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”

another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.

so precious that he forgets about everything else. 

this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care. 

you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.

it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it. 

(something worth cherishing, no matter the cost.)

as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date. 

satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.

“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”

satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”

“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“

“— yet.”

a pause. 

satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”

a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist. 

he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”

a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.

“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”

satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.

”you’re so gross.”

a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”

”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue. 

”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.” 

”charmer.”

”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”

and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything that’s good, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches a flicker of joy dance within your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.

the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think. 

satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back. 

so why not bear the weight of your burdens?

all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.

he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.

“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”

he prays it never will.

[soggykookiesandcream]

𝕟𝕠𝕩𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕣 - 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟞

Jungkook's POV

"Hyung?" I pull at his shirt, "What do we do?"

"There are way too many zombies outside to shoot or fight through," Hoseok states the obvious running a hand through his hair, "We need to distract them and make our way through it."

"How do we distract them? Should we call our men and ask them?" I walk to the sink and wash my face.

"We can't endanger all our men like that," Hoseok replies, "They'll turn into one of those monsters if they get bitten. It's not like a bullet wound where we have chances to save them. We cannot get them back. They'll be gone."

"Then what do we do?" I sigh and slide down the wall.

"Shush," Hoseok shoves his pointer finger against my lips, "I'm gonna peek outside."

I nod and watch him with concern. He slowly unlocks the door and cracks it open a chink. He peeks out cautiously ready to slam the door back close if one of them hurls at us. My heart races as I sit on the floor with my hands firmly pressed onto the floor in case we need to make a run. Hoseok slowly closes the door with a sigh. 

"It's crawling with zombies but I might have an idea," he says.

"What?" I ask standing up and reloading my gun.

"Okay, so," he breathes in, "I'm gonna open that door slowly run out-"

"What!?" I yell, "No, you are not running out anywhere to do nothing," I state firmly with a huff.

"Jungkook, just listen first!" He says, "I'll run out to the washroom on the opposite side while you cover my back from here and I'll close the door and bang on it. Then you can slowly walk out and make it to Lia when they get attracted to the door. You can come and get me after Lia is safe."

"But what if you can't make it to the other washroom safely?" I ask in worry. He wasn't just my personal secretary but also my brother and an amazing friend. When I had no one, he was there for me. I couldn't lose him.

"I will make it," Hoseok pats my shoulder and presses it firmly, "I will. Got it? Now, message Lia and ask for her locker's location."

"Alright," I pull out my phone and message her.

Saccharin Lia :( ------------------------- Baby. Lia? You there? Jungkook. You're okay, right? Yeah, I'm in the locker. Ok good. Stay there.  I'm at yr college. I need you to tell me where your  locker is. It's in the business corridor. The first right after u enter the business corridor. Locker #57 Alr, bby im coming.Stay in there okay? Jungkook, I can't open the locker from the inside... :\ I forgor lol sorry babe im coming come fast u bitch im scared yeah wait im trying cya babes

"Okay, I got her location. Please be careful," I try to hold my tears back and avoid eye contact with Hoseok, "I don't have anyone else other than you and Lia. No one."

"And you will have both of us, okay?" He smiles softly and pulls me into a hug. I squeeze him hard into the hug and he huffs out, "Yo, you're killing me."

"I'm sorry," I chuckle trying to bite back the pain from seeping into my words but Hoseok detects it.

"Everything will be okay," Hoseok says and pats my back. He breathes in and out reloading his gun, "Ready?"

"I'm not sure," I whimper.

"C'mon," Hoseok stretches his long legs, "We don't got much time."

I nod and stand up straight twisting to crack my bones.

"Let's go," Hoseok opens the door slightly. I hold onto his wrist, "You will make it, right? Promise?"

"Promise," he gives a heart-shaped smile and turns to the door, "Kay, I'm going."

He runs out carefully and the zombies snarl, hearing his footsteps. They snap their heads at him and start running to him. A zombie tackles him from the front and I shoot it down. He quickly pushes a zombie out of the way and runs into the washroom. He gets in and tries to close it but he swears, "Shit!"

"What?" I ask from behind the door.

"There's no fucking door!" He runs inside the washroom and the zombies flood inside it.

"Shit," I murmur under my breath and slam the door close banging on it constantly so that the zombies would run towards my door. I hear bangs and footsteps outside the door and confirm they're outside.

"Hyung!" I yell, "Get inside the stalls! And barricade the opening below the stall door with another one," I don't hear a reply and I assume that he's not replying on purpose to not attract the zombies. I look around the washroom to find something to make some noise with. I couldn't keep banging at the door, I might break it. I find mental buckets and I start banging them together. I keep banging it for a few mins till I hear a similar banging from outside. I realise that Hoseok has gotten himself inside safely. I stop the banging and I hear footsteps of the zombies walking away. I hear thuds and I assume that they're tripping on thin air. I roll my eyes and slowly crack the door open. 

I peek outside to see the zombies crowding in the washroom, "I hope they don't climb over," I murmur to myself and look around to find any boards or signs. I find a board that shows directions to different parts of the college. I see 'Business Department' on the board and an arrow beside it pointing to the direction. I step out of the washroom slowly and tiptoe towards wherever the arrow showed; blindly trusting the board... I mean I don't have another choice.

I reach just outside the business corridor. I stand flat against the wall and peek inside slowly.

"Fvck," I swear when I see a bunch of zombies stumbling around. I look beside me to see a classroom. Maybe I can get in and bang on the walls to attract the zombies to the corner on the other side of the wall and then slowly take them out with my gun. I try to open it but it doesn't budge. It's locked. I swear under my breath and sigh. I can't walk in and take them out when they're all spread out. 

I sigh and look around and spot a washroom. I smirk.

Bingo. 

1065 WORDS

[ghostbeam]

can you feel my heart beating like a hammer? | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

You watch from your spot, shoulders tense as you anticipate the arrival of yet another creepy clown or zombie when you see him.

He’s not like the other actors. He’s not quick with his movements and doesn’t yell or jump at anyone. His terror lies in the fact that he does none of those things, that he stands across from you and stares.

And then he grins.

Your stomach turns but not in fear.

Notes: hiiiiii so this is my scare actor!dabi fic. It’s my halloween/October fic for the month!! I’ve been working on this for a while and I’ve finally finished only five days before halloween lmao. Wanna thank mari for calling me after class that day where we had the same exact thought of this at the same time and I had to pull over to put it in my notes (and also for thinking of this title cause I was struggling) anyways I hope you enjoy!!! thanks for reading!! (Title from help I'm alive by metric) listen to the playlist here!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, f!reader, explicit content, scare actor!dabi, Dabi is touya (quite literally he is not called Dabi in this at all ajhssjsjjss), sex in public, fearplay (kind of), multiple orgasms, overstimulation (very brief), oral f!receiving, fingering, multiple instances where Dabi rests his hand on ur neck but never chokes u, biting (shoulder, neck), ‘baby’ and ‘angel’ as pet names, use of ‘good girl’, frightening (debatable im not that good) depictions of scare actors and haunts, one description of gory makeup, fake weapons

Words: 5k

You’re scared, terrified actually, and your friends are nowhere in sight.

You’re cold. You’re hungry. A clown with a chainsaw won’t stop following you around, and you just want to go home. 

When you were invited to the local haunted house, your first instinct was to say no. You’d always been afraid of these things, anything with jumpscares, anything not contained in the screen of your television, you decided wasn’t for you. But your friends insisted and explained that the local haunt wouldn’t be anything like any of those expensive theme parks with big productions and highly trained actors. 

But if you were being honest with yourself, it all felt the same to you. It was maybe a little creepier, out in a field in the middle of nowhere, the closest business a couple of miles away, and no background checks for the actors. Uneasiness washed over you the moment you stepped through the wooden gates.

And now you’re alone.

Scare actors are coming at you left and right, all dressed in dark makeup or clown outfits or fake blood, each with their very own faux weapon used for getting just close enough to you without touching. They’re targeting you because you’re scared, you realize because you scream and clutch your head and run in all different directions when they come at you. 

It’s quite the production for a local haunt. It’s eerie, smoke machines pour fog throughout, and music that ranges from creepy carnival tunes to popular horror movie scores blare through worn-out speakers, which add to the effect. The actors are painted with precision or covered in liquid latex and black blood that oozes from fake wounds. You feel like you’re in a horror movie. You might be in one, for all you know, which is what scares you the most

You finally find a moment to calm yourself down, seeking a single moment of peace against a makeshift wall on the outside of a haunted house. 

You take a moment to look around you, out over the sea of people and costumes. You observe the way the actors jump at the attendees, throwing themselves forward or making loud noises, dragging and tapping their fake weapons against the ground. It’s complete chaos, and you thought that seeing it from the sidelines would make it less terrifying for you, but it doesn’t. You don’t want to be here. 

You watch from your spot, shoulders tense as you anticipate the arrival of yet another creepy clown or zombie when you see him. 

He’s not like the other actors. He’s not quick with his movements and doesn’t yell or jump at anyone. His terror lies in the fact that he does none of those things, that he stands across from you and stares.

And then he grins.

Your stomach turns but not in fear. 

He’s not scary, just strange, and oddly handsome too, you think. You don’t smile back, but you keep your eyes on him. You aren’t sure if his smile is part of his act or if he means it. Somehow, both make you uneasy. 

He’s slow as he moves towards you, calculated. His eyes rake up and down your body as he approaches. As he comes closer, you can finally get a good look at his face, smudged with paint over scars that fall underneath both eyes and line his jaw. What looks to be like staples sit in the seam between the marked and unmarked skin, and you can’t tell if they’re part of the costume or if he wears the piercings when he’s not working. You kind of hope he does.

He looms over you, close enough that you can smell a mixture of sweat and cologne on his skin, but not enough to touch you. You think you want him to, though. His eyes are a brilliant blue, almost glowing against the night. 

He’s beautiful. You can tell even hidden under the face paint. His costume is stitched together with yarn at the seams of his shoulders, silver staples that imitate the piercings on his face scatter the stitches. His coat is long and reaches the middle of his calves, and a loose white shirt drapes over his chest. His dark jeans wear the same stitches as his coat, and his dark boots are big, the sound of the soles against the pavement is loud as he steps even closer to you. 

Touya’s never had any particular interest in any of the attendees of the haunt before. Sure, he’s taken girls home who’d bravely slipped their numbers into his pocket or caught him when his shift was over, but no one had ever caught his eye quite like you. 

He’d seen you cowering before his coworkers, running away and screaming, not unlike many of the people around you. But he had noticed you.

And now you’re standing not even an inch away from him, staring up at him with wide eyes and trembling so hard he can almost feel you. You’re adorable. He wants to see you like this underneath him with your back arched, pretty lips parted for him, just for him. 

Your moment is interrupted by the revving of a chainsaw and the dragging of metal against pavement as yet another clown laughs loudly in your ear. You jump, unconsciously moving forward, finding yourself in the arms of the patchwork man you’d been so captivated by. You squeak out a small sorry, but he says nothing, smirking down at you.

Dabi’s heart leaps in his chest. He wants to steal you away, pull you into one of the haunts, and fuck you behind one of the walls. No one would suspect a thing if he covered you in enough fake blood to pass as one of them, making you scream in pleasure against the screams of fear. 

His eyes flicker to your lips before he lowers his hands to your waist, squeezing tightly before backing away from you and leaving you alone without a word. 

…

After another half an hour of running from scare actors and looking for your friends, you finally find them near a food stand, unassuming and completely unaware you’d disappeared.

You sprint towards them, getting good at dodging anyone jumping at you after all of that time alone. Your best friend spots you first, her eyes widening as she walks towards you.

“Where the fuck did you go?” She questions with a drink in one hand that flashes different colors from the plastic light-up ice in the liquid. 

“You guys left me!” You exclaim, “I’ve been dodging those fuckers for an hour alone!”

“We thought you were with us. I promise! We went in that one haunt with the possession scene and when we came out you were gone!” She explains, but you can’t help but feel a little annoyed. You didn’t even want to come out tonight. You’d only said yes because she begged. 

“Did you look for me?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Look,” She begins, “Everything is so chaotic here. Everyone was moving on to the next house! I figured you’d catch up!”

“You suck.” You pout.

“I know I do. I’m sorry!” She pleads. “I’ll buy you something to eat. C’mon.”

She buys your meal and leads you to some of the wooden picnic tables in the small area, the rest of your friends already occupying some of the space. You’re treated warmly as they all throw questions at you about where you went. You resist the urge to act upset or make a scene, explaining that you’d been running around and looking for them while trying to avoid fake chainsaws and machetes. You’re in the middle of telling a story about getting caught in a corner with one of the zombies when your friends start to erupt in a fit of giggles. You pause your story, confused at their sudden reaction when you feel someone blow at your neck.

It only surprises you, all the fear expelled from your body in your hour of terror. You turn to look at the source and there he is again, the patchwork man from earlier. You’re not scared of him, this time, only intrigued. 

He hovers over you, moving and contorting his neck in a way that you assume is meant to be creepy, but it does nothing but amuse you. 

You smile and let out a small laugh, looking up at him through your lashes. Dabi feels his jeans tighten at the way you look up at him, eyebrows pulled up in a pout, leaning closer as he grins. 

“Are you ever gonna tell me your name?” You ask him, eyes flickering to his lips for a moment. He shakes his head slowly, maintaining eye contact while holding a finger to his mismatched lips. You give him yours, but he only stares. You’re once again pulled in by the blue in his eyes, finding yourself wondering if they’re a different shade than the last time you saw him. “Not even if I beg?”

He’ll punish you for that later, Dabi thinks. 

You watch him reach behind his back, still bent over towards your face, readying yourself for what you think might be the fake machete he carried before.

He pulls a single yellow daisy from behind him, clutching it between two fingers as he holds it out to you. You know he must have picked it from one of the patches of green that scatter the field. Your friends giggle some more, whispering things you're unable to focus on at the moment. You look between his painted face and the flower, reaching out to take it from him.

Suddenly feeling bashful, you lean away from him, smelling the flower and twirling it between your fingers. The smile he gives you is genuine.

He leans closer to you, bringing a finger up to his cheek and tapping twice to signal something. He wants a kiss, you realize. It’s against the rules, and he knows this. Scare actors are not meant to touch the guests, and doing so could get them into a lot of trouble. But Touya wants to touch you. He remembers the feeling of you pressed against him when you’d jumped in fear of the clown from earlier. He’d broken the rule then, and he had no problem with breaking it again.

If not for your friends' excited squeals around you, you’re sure you would have frozen. You push yourself forward, placing a kiss to his cheek before you can talk yourself out of it. He smiles wide as you pull away, that creepy grin still on his face as he stares down at you. 

When he stands up, he begins to back away slowly without a word. You watch him walk, clutching a fist over his heart and giving you a giddy smile as he leaves. 

You feel disheartened knowing you might not see him again tonight. You place the flower behind your ear and take your eyes off where he disappeared. 

…

You and your friends stay until closing. As the night goes on, you find yourself getting used to the fear. You think you like it now, adrenaline running through your body as you're chased with chainsaws or reached for through windows inside of the haunts. It’s exhilarating. You understand why people like these so much.

Scare actors are practically chasing people out, running at them with their weapons until they make it through the gates. It’s complete mayhem, especially with the number of people now pushed to the front of the area. 

Amidst the chaos, you find yourself alone again. You search the crowd, avoiding the actors jumping toward you as you make your way through the sea of people. You push through different groups of people until you make it to a small open spot amidst the crowd. It’s there that you see the man from before, jumping at different people who walk by him. He drags his fake machete against the floor and it scrapes with a metallic grinding sound. He’s terrifying, you think. Not to you, but to anyone around him, he must be terrifying. 

He’s tall and imposing, completely silent as he pushes his weapon toward anyone he can reach. He’s fast, too, running up on different people, the sound of his big black boots is loud against the pavement.

You can’t move. You can only stare at him, completely in his element. He’s good at what he does, better and far more intimidating than any of the other actors you’ve encountered tonight. But somehow, you aren’t scared at all, not of him and not in any real way. Maybe you should be, though. 

He turns around, looking around as he walks from his last set of victims before his eyes find you. A smile crosses his face and he lifts a hand, wagging his fingers to wave at you. You avert your eyes in embarrassment that he caught you, even in the crowd of people. 

He stalks towards you, dragging his weapon behind him. He’s menacing, and you can’t help but feel a little afraid of him, wondering if he’ll jump towards you or do something to scare you all over again. When he approaches, you watch him smirk from under his makeup, close enough to see the texture of his skin and the blue of his eyes. He runs a finger down your arm until he reaches your hand, intertwining your fingers and pulling you along with him. 

You know you shouldn’t follow him. This is how people go missing, how people are found in a ditch with their friends crying on the news about how they were just with them. 

But you can’t bring yourself to care. You find him endlessly fascinating, from the way he moves to his dark demeanor. He’s strange and unsettling, but you like it. You want strange and unsettling, contrary to your feelings earlier in the night. 

Dabi can feel your hand trembling in his. He rubs soothing circles with his thumb over the top of your hand. He doesn’t want you to be too afraid of him. He wants you to like him. He’s almost embarrassed by it, seeking the approval of a random girl who visited the haunt. When he looks back at you, your eyes are wide, mouth agape as you let him pull you through the crowd of people. You look at him with curiosity and intrigue more than fear. Dabi feels his heart beat faster in his chest.

He pulls you to one of the haunts, one you went through earlier with a zombie rock band, a ridiculous theme that you remember scaring you the least. Guitar blares through the speakers as you enter, moving the curtains back that cover each entrance. You realize that the place is empty, with no scare actors ready to jump out, no one on the sets or acting out any of the scenes you remember. It’s just the two of you now. 

You feel his arm curl around your waist as he pulls you behind one of the openings in the walls. It’s one of the spaces that the scare actors use to hide in before jumping out at the guests. It’s surprisingly spacious, and there’s a door that must lead outside of the structure or into another room. You don’t have time to ponder it before you’re pushed up against one of the walls, his hands squeezing your hips as he looks down at you with hungry eyes. 

“I’ve wanted to touch you like this all night long. You were so fucking scared.” He speaks, lowering his head to the crook of your neck, and you almost gasp at the sound of his voice. It’s rough, gravelly. It vibrates against your body where he brushes his lips against you. “It was so cute.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling him grin against your skin before licking over your pulse point. You moan, the sound almost swallowed up by the loud eerie rock music reverberating in the makeshift building. Dabi wants to make you louder. He wants you to scream.

“Are you—hah—gonna tell me your name?” You ask him as he continues to kiss your neck. His hands are all over you, squeezing the flesh of your hips, running his hands over your thighs and your arms, hands underneath your sweater, up your skirt. You can’t focus on anything but his hands and his mouth and his hard body pressed up against yours. You almost want him closer, if that’s even possible, tangling your fingers into his hair and arching your body into his. 

You’re sure your neck must be covered in smudgy face paint. His mouth is probably a muddy mess, or maybe all of the paint is gone, but you don’t care. His lips feel good on your skin. He feels good. 

It barely registers that he ignores your question. “What? You’re back to not speaking?”

He’s silent, once again, pulling away from your neck to smile down at you. You were right, the paint is almost completely gone from the bottom half of his face, leaving behind the sight of scars in contrast to the unmarked skin on his cheeks. You’re panting, looking into his eyes as he reveals nothing. He leans forward to kiss you, catching you by surprise even though he was sucking on your neck just moments ago. The kiss is short, with barely enough time to feel his tongue against yours before he pulls away. 

“So mysterious.” You quip, trying to save yourself from the embarrassment of being affected by one kiss. He pulls his long coat from his shoulders to reveal surprisingly muscular arms covered in the same scars and piercings that litter his face. He continues with his vow of silence as he starts to lower himself before you, placing kisses against your chest and your stomach as he falls to his knees. His hands sneak up your skirt. “Oh, fuck.”

He raises the front of your skirt, moving one of your hands to hold it against your stomach. He runs his hands up the front of your thighs, looking up at you through thick lashes, spreading your legs even further apart. He brings a hand forward, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clothed cunt. He gives you a look, and he doesn’t need to speak for you to know what he’s thinking, for you to be embarrassed by how wet you are from just a little groping. 

He moves his hand and leans forward, pulling you by your hips and burying his face in between your legs. You feel his tongue through your underwear, gasping at the feeling, simultaneously too much and not enough. You bury your free hand in his hair as he licks you through the layer of fabric. Your panties are thoroughly ruined, your inner thighs sticky with your slick. He groans against you, tasting what little of you he can through the barrier. He pulls away and rips them from your thighs, wasting no time before he’s in between your legs once more. 

“God!” It’s not his name, but it’ll do. “Fuck, right there!”

He laps at your entrance, completely lost in making you feel good. Every moan he pulls from you only spurs him on, tonguing your cunt like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. He thinks that maybe it is. 

You buck your hips against his face, fingers curling into the fabric of your skirt and pulling at his hair as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to your orgasm. He runs one hand up your thigh, pulling away for a moment to slip a finger inside of you. He groans at how much of a mess you’ve become, how much of a mess he’s made you. He adds another finger, watching how easily they slide in and out of you. He looks up at you, silently asking if it’s something you like, and the moan you let out tells him that it is. You nod at him, moving your hips while he moves his fingers in and out of you. 

“Please!” You whine, missing the feeling of his tongue on you. “Need more!”

He slows the movements of his fingers down, pulling another unsatisfied groan from your throat. It’s cute how impatient you are, how he’s reduced you to such a hungry little thing, all for him.

He moves one hand behind your knee, hiking your leg over one of his shoulders and earning a surprised gasp from your lips. His tongue finds your clit again, running tight circles around you as his fingers speed up. 

You grind against his face, closer to the edge than before, moaning at the sensation of his mouth against your entrance. He curls his fingers inside of you and licks over your clit, his motions repetitive and focused as he feels you clench around his fingers. You’re close, and he can feel it, and it’s taking everything in him not to beg you to come for him.

“I’m gonna—” a strangled cry escapes your throat as he brings you to the edge. He slows his movements down as you ride out your orgasm, thrusting his fingers slowly and licking languid strokes over your clit. Hips spamming against him, you have to push his head away from your sex, breathing heavily and running your fingers through the hair falling in his eyes. He’s gorgeous when he looks up at you through a glistening grin. He rises from the ground, bringing the two fingers, now covered in your slick, towards his mouth. You whimper as you watch him wrap his own lips around the two digits, his eyes never leaving yours. He releases them with a sticky pop, surging forwards to capture your lips with his. 

It’s better than the one before, longer, slower. You can taste yourself on his tongue. He slots his body against yours as he deepens the kiss, and you can feel him hard against your thigh. His hands run up your sides, over your breasts up to your sternum. He rests one hand against the front of your neck, gently and not squeezing, just to keep you there against him. He slips his tongue into your mouth while his other hand sneaks up the back of your sweater. He has your bra off before you have any time to think, and then he runs his fingers over your nipples. 

He’s much gentler than you thought he’d be, especially under the circumstances. He has you pressed up against a wall in public. You’re someone he’s only just met, and you know you must not be the first person he’s done this with. 

But he kisses you like he loves you. 

And maybe it’s the adrenaline or the raucous music preventing you from thinking clearly, but you think that maybe he could. Maybe you want him too. 

God, you’re crazy. 

He sucks your tongue into his mouth again and you tug at the strands of hair at the back of his head. Your movements become more frantic as you push your bodies closer together. Twitching hands find the front of his jeans, thumbing the button open and stroking your hand over him. He groans into your mouth, a faint curse as he pushes his hips forward. He bites your lip hard before pulling away from you, pulling a shiny square package from his pocket and releasing himself from the constraint of his underwear. He tears it open with his teeth and rolls the condom on, reaching down to hike your leg back up like it had been before. With one strong hand holding you up from behind your knee, he drags the head of his cock through your folds, pulling another moan from you that you try to suppress in the crook of his neck. 

His lips find yours once more, swallowing the sounds you make as he sinks into you. You arch your back, pushing yourself closer as he stretches you. The stretch is almost too much, even with the mess he’s made of you, but you feel good, full, complete.

He starts slow, long drawn-out thrusts of his hips that drive you crazy. He touches you everywhere, squeezing anywhere he can get his hands on, sucking on your neck, your chest. He kisses over your face, sweet pecks of his lips to your jaw and cheeks. It’s overwhelming, the attention he gives you, the need to put your pleasure before his, to make you feel wanted. You are wanted. 

He’s getting desperate now, speeding up as he moves against you. He reaches so deep, keeping your leg hiked up with your back against the wall. You aren’t gonna last much longer, not with his tongue in your mouth, not with the sound of his own whines meeting your ears as he quickens his thrusts. 

“Please—” You beg, digging your fingers into his hips. You’re so close, clenching around him so tightly he can barely think. His eyes find yours as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to your release, neon blue clouding your vision before you throw your head back against the wall behind you. Pleasure wracks through your body as he pulls you even closer. You fall limp in his arms, feeling him release your leg and pull out of you. You rest your forehead against his as you calm your breathing.

“Think you can give me one more?” The rare sound of his voice startles you. His hand finds the back of your head, pulling away to look into your eyes. Dazed, you nod at him, watching him smile down at you. “Good girl.”

He kisses your cheek, and you let him spin you around to face the wall. You brace yourself against it, two hands flat on the surface as you feel him behind you. He places sloppy kisses against your neck, slowly entering you once more. You gasp, still sensitive from before, but he shushes you, nibbling on your earlobe as he moves in and out of you. 

“Your—hah—your name.” You whine, barely getting the words out as he quickens his pace. He groans behind you, leaning forward to bite your shoulder, thrusting in quick short motions against you. “Please! Fuck! Wanna—”

“You wanna what, baby?” He breathes against your ear. He places a kiss beneath it, peppering more down your neck as he slows down. 

“Don’t! Please don’t slow down.” You beg, pushing yourself against him. 

He leans his large frame against your back, bringing an arm around the front of your chest, resting his hand at the base of your neck. He pulls your back against him, lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna—ngh—scream it.” You pant, feeling his thrusts speed up at your admission. “Wanna scream your name.”

“‘Course you do, angel.” He coos, running a hand down the front of your body until it slips up your skirt. You feel his fingers against your clit and gasp, twitching from the sensitivity. It’s too much. You want more. “Call me Touya.”

“Touya!” You cry, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. Touya, Touya, Touya. It sounds perfect falling from your lips. You were meant to say it, meant to scream it just like this. “Wanna come. Make me come, Touya.”

He buries his face into your neck, biting down hard as he speeds up the movements of his hips and his fingers on your clit. You scream, just how he’s wanted you to all night, the feeling of pain and pleasure leaving you dizzy. 

“Gonna—” You choke, moaning his name once again. He groans against your skin.

“I know, baby, me too.” His thrusts become sloppier, feeling himself approach the edge, but not before you. You scream his name one last time, reaching your high just moments before him. He cries out after, pulling your face towards his to kiss you deeply once more. 

Realizing where you are, music still playing loudly through the speakers, your body up against a rough wooden wall, and Touya’s tongue in your mouth, you force yourself to pull away. He moves away from you, taking a moment to discard the condom and pick up your ruined underwear from the ground. You lay your head against the wall, throwing your arm over your eyes and laughing at the absurdity of the situation. 

You think about the feeling of dread from the beginning of the night, how quickly you ran from the men in masks and makeup, the fake chainsaws and knives. And now you’d been fucked by one, one you’d learned the name of just seconds ago. 

When Touya returns, you’ve fixed yourself, putting your bra back on and pulling your skirt down, though you’re still without underwear. He walks towards you, cupping your face with one large hand and looking down at you.

“You okay?” He questions, genuine concern in his cyan gaze. You give him a shy smile and nod. He narrows his eyes before giving you a sly smile. “I need verbal confirmation.”

“I’m okay, Touya.” You tell him, wrapping your hand around his wrist and resting it there. 

“Fuck,” he speaks, “say it again.”

“You should’ve told me sooner.” You say, ignoring the command. He rolls his eyes, kissing your forehead before pulling away. He takes your hand in his and opens the door beside you.

“C’mon let’s get you cleaned up, then I’ll take you home.” He leads you through the door, down a labyrinth of alleys all connected by the various haunts. He looks back at you and shrugs sheepishly. “Sorry. Your friends are probably gone.”

“Probably.” You don’t care, but you should. And you shouldn’t let him take you home. You shouldn’t let him touch your face gently or take you to one of the twenty-four-hour diners nearby after you leave. You shouldn’t give him your number. You shouldn’t let him take you out once, twice, three times. You shouldn’t let him sneak you into a different haunt the next time you visit him at work.

You do anyway. 

[dual1pa]

anti-flirt

(based on a request!)

fic contents: jealous steve, S M U T, praise kink, spitting, swearing, unwanted flirting

steve harrington x reader (with she/her pronouns)

have a fic idea? send it over and let me write it for you!

she found herself in the romantic comedy section of the store. she hummed the song that played softly on the speakers of the Hawkins Family Video.

little does she know, her boyfriend, Steve, keeps a close eye on her. not that she couldn't handle anything herself, he's just protective over her, and she knows it.

she glances over at the check-out part of the store and sees steve smiling at her. god, she loves him so much. she blows him a kiss and continues to put away the copies of 'sixteen candles.'

the bell rings, alerting the staff that a customer has entered the store. he was tall, brunette, and about her age. steve watched him as he walked through the aisles, discovering new, old, and familiar movie titles. eyeing his girlfriend, he walked over to her and asked her a question he couldn't hear.

"so, what are you renting these days?" he asked her.

she ignored his flirty tendencies and acted like a normal customer, "well, i like romantic comedies and also a little horror as well. if you have a girl at home, i recommend sixteen candles. it's cute."

"what if i want you to be that girl at my home?"

she forced a laugh, "you'd have to look elsewhere as i'm taken," she pushed her cart and walked to the next aisle, hoping that he was finished trying to win her over as if that could ever happen.

"oh come on, there has to be something i can do to get you to forget about your boyfriend," he urged.

she shook her head, "i don't think so," she looked over at steve, who was still eyeing her. he knew that look, he made his way over and put his arm around her and kissed her cheek.

"is everything okay over here?"

"yes, i was just helping this customer find a movie for his girlfriend."

"well, i was hoping this one right here would come home with me tonight," he winked, completely disregarding that her boyfriend was standing right next to her.

"the only person she is coming home with is me, man. so i suggest you get the fuck out of here."

the guy scoffed and walked out.

"steve, steve. it's okay."

"no, it's not okay. that guy is an asshole and he didn't care that i was standing right fucking here," he yelled, she shushed him to keep his voice down.

she tried to calm him, but nothing seemed to work.

"robin! we're taking our 15," she yelled.

she took him outside to the back of the store. no one ever comes back here only to take out the trash during the evening. it was midday. he leaned up against the wall and combed his hand through his hair.

"you know that you're the only one i love right, some asshole isn't going to take me out of here. the only person im going home with tonight—and every night i might add—is you, baby."

"i know, sweetie," he takes her hand and brings him into his body, "you know how protective i am over you and i hate when assholes like him come in and try to steal you from me."

"i know. i know, but no one is going to steal me from you, she took his cheeks in her hands. his hands snaked around her hips, "hey, do you know how many girls come in here. i see the way they look at you."

"please, the only person im looking at is you. i'm so glad you work with me."

"i should be thanking you for getting me this job, it get's my parents off my ass, at least till the fall when they beg me to go to college."

"do you want to go to college?"

she sighs, "i think i do. i think it's the right thing to do. could really get better paying jobs with a degree. i guess i have some time to think about it. but don't think for a second i would just go away to school and leave you."

"didn't think you would sweetheart," he smiled, leaning in closer to your lips, "my girl."

"my steve," she responds.

their lips finally touched, pretending that they were elsewhere other than work. his hands traveled from her hips to her ass as he squeezed the flesh. all she wanted to do was tear his clothes off and have her way with him, but to have sex in the back of their job wasn't really on their list on where to fuck.

"c'mon, our third 15-minute break of the shift is over," she pulled him back into the store to finish their shift.

*

after their long shift, steve rented out a movie for the couple to watch at his place, since his parents were gone... again.

they went up to his room and got changed out of their gross work clothes as steve went to put them in the wash. as he walked back in his bedroom, he watched in awe, with a little bit of lust, as she put on a pair of sleep shorts and one of steve's shirts.

he laid down on his bed to watch her unwind for the day. she had to wipe the minimal makeup off her face and use proper face wash to get rid of the oils and dirt.

barefoot, she walked over to steve's side of the bed to climb on top of him. his hands pushed her shirt up to feel her skin. she could read jealousy all over his face from that unwanted flirting she received from that guy.

"hey," she kissed his lips, "what's on your mind?"

his head hit the back of his bedframe, "that jerk that flirted with you today. i don't know why it's still bothering me."

"because you're a protective boyfriend and i admire you for that," she began to kiss down his bare chest to tease him a bit, "i would get jealous too if a girl was flirting with you at work. it would turn me into an anti-flirt, if you ask me."

He questioned, "anti-flirt?"

"yeah. if someone was flirting with me and I didn't like it, it would make me not like the idea of flirting, because that one person ruined it for me," she giggled, "but of course, when you flirt with me it would turn me right back to pro-flirting."

"come here," he pressed his lips together for her to come back up to kiss him.

she did as she was asked, feeling his tongue enter her mouth. when she was lost in thought of him, he took the opportunity to flip her over so he was on top. he continued his assault on her lips, deepening the kiss. his hand snaked down to her clothed center to tease her a bit. she grinded against his tough, desperately wanting more.

her hands brushed through his hair, moaning in his ear, "you're the only one i want steve, the only person who could make me feel this good."

"i love when you praise me," his thumb pressed harder on her covered clit.

he moved her clothes to the side to reveal her soaking center, "all for me."

"all for you steve, only you baby."

he quickly took himself out of his boxers and pumped himself a few times before lining himself up to her aching, desperate entrance. he looked at her for permission, when she nodded. he pushes himself in.

god, she was so in love with him. he knew how to take care of her: emotionally and sexually. her hands wrapped around his neck to bring his lips down against her neck. he bit down on her neck and then used his saliva to soothe the bite mark. he pushed her shirt up to tease her breasts a little bit, slightly pinching her nipples. her back arched as she felt herself getting closer and closer to her climax.

he steadied himself on his forearms to look down at her without putting too much weight on her. he sped up his pace, desperately chasing his high. his thumb found her clit and pressed harsh circles on the sensitive nerve.

she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. he knew what she wanted. he pinched her mouth and spit right on her tongue. she closed her mouth and swallowed. fuck, he didn't even know he had (or she) had all these kinks before meeting one another. their sex life really brought out the freaks in them.

"harder, steve, harder," she threw her head back after taking over rubbing her own clit. he slapped her hands away, holding them above her head as he did all the work down there. he could feel herself reach her climax as her walls squeezed on his cock.

"that's it babygirl," he moaned out.

She groaned, screaming out his name before twitching on his body, letting him know that she was overstimulated. he came inside her shortly after and stayed in until he grew soft, flipping over so he was lying next to her.

"that was amazing, steve," she rested her head on his chest, "still jealous?"

"not anymore, babe. not anymore."

[taegularities]

hiiiiii i need to! (you sent me here) hi, can i get a drabble for soaring high?? the only request i have is that they're in the same room together. post coital? pre? during? i don't care... i just need them.

thank you!

luv u

<3 harrow

hehe anything for you, my love !! @sugalaritae AHH ALSO, writing this made me so nostalgic for them. and he's so sexy. so thank you !! <3 –– can be read as a stand-alone!

–––

floating

pairing: Taehyung x reader fic: soaring high wc: 1.2k (oh wow) warnings: smut – rough sex, some degradation, dirty talk, finger sucking, dom!tae, big dick!tae, biting, praising... usual stuff, squirting, fingering, cum eating i guess, unprotected sex, they're actually so cute too, aftercare, feelings? maybe. and. yeah.

–––

Taehyung gave you one single rule, and to his pleasure, you keep breaking it.

As the curve of his cock penetrates your dripping walls with the familiar force for the umpteenth time, you nearly yell his name into the room. The hand pushing you face-down on his couch vanishes, the hammering of his hips growing more merciless than before.

It’s as though he wants you to scream, so he can punish you accordingly.

The large palm settles over your mouth, pressing into your face as he leans in and whispers, “Shh… I told you Jae’s sleeping… and what I’ll do… should he wake up because of you.”

Yes.

You remember what he said.

A shudder takes over your body, and you dig your fingers into the material of his couch further. When he continues his journey, your eyes roll back in their sockets, your moans muffled and your body burning from his utterly merciless thrusts.

It’s safe to say that Taehyung has become comfortable with you since he first met you on a plane weeks ago. You didn’t think you’d ever see him again; much less, that you’d find yourself kneeling on his carpet, your knees bruising, because he was too impatient to even get you on his sofa.

The fling crowning you a member of the mile high club has long advanced to a silent affair – and here you are now, bent over his furniture, a drop of sweat trailing down your face as you let him wreck you inside out.

“Pretty little slut for me, aren’t you?” he whispers, snapping his hips against yours nearly aggressively.

With whatever strength you’ve left, you nod, tears blurring your vision before you squint and let them escape slowly, one by one. Taehyung watches your dark make-up taint your cheek, black tears colouring his nimble, long fingers that still press into your face.

He loosens his grip around your cheeks, pushing your torso into the couch further as his fingers sneak their way to your aching clit and draw torturously slow circles around it. You attempt to press your legs together, but his thighs split you apart, his cock spearing your poor battered pussy.

The sensation is too much; too mind-numbing. You want to scream, want to call his name, let him pin your arms behind your back and fuck you dumb and stupid all night. But forced to keep the silence in his house, you remain as quiet as you can, losing your mind when he presses his chest against your back and states, “This must be my favourite pussy ever. I fucking swear.”

His praises never fail to fog your mind enough for you to forget your name; but despite the haziness, you still part your lips, somehow managing to utter, “‘M gonna come… more, please–”

“More, baby?”

“Please, Tae, I can’t stay qui– god, god, fuck.”

“One day,” he begins, massaging your clit harder, watching you come undone, “Jae will be… with Jimin and… I’ll make sure you can’t walk after I’m done with you, shit.”

You can barely imagine a behaviour more demonic than this, but you can’t deny that the idea lights your nerves on fire immediately. His effect on you might never falter; and if you told him, he’d never let you crawl out of his bed ever again.

Biting your lower lip, you let go finally, soaking his cock in a generous amount of your juices; you can’t see him, but you’re certain the sight must be driving him insane.

Taehyung lets out a breathy chuckle, fucking you through your orgasm, pushing your high back into your cunt as he feels your walls clench and pulsate around him. The upper half of your body sinks into the couch some more, your knees nearly buckling before he grips your hips tight.

It takes mere seconds until his movements stutter, too, and he bites into your shoulder hard, immediately trying to soothe the sting to suppress your whimper. And when he spills inside you eventually, lewd curses fall from his mouth, his body falling lazily onto yours as you hear him whisper, “Fuck… really don’t wanna fill any other cunt anymore. Princess takes me so well every single time, doesn’t she?

“You’re a demon.”

“Sorry,” he apologises, clear mock and ingenuity in his words, “I’ll be more gentle next time.”

“No, you won’t be.” Your fingers shift on the couch, tapping blindly until you reach his hands and place your palm on his wrist. “And I don’t want you to be.”

“Thought so.”

Taehyung pulls out of you without a warning, and the emptiness he leaves you with feels unfamiliar, cold. You don’t realise how wound he’s fucked you until he slides two fingers inside your cunt, toying with your nerves before he brings his digits to your mouth and says, “You’ll keep the rest inside for now, yeah?”

You nod, obliging to his silent request to open your mouth as you lick his fingers clean of your mixed orgasms. Patting your ass, he declares once more, “good girl,” before pulling you to your feet carefully.

With your eyes drooping and your body aching, you let him guide you to god knows where, your brain and limbs so exhausted that you don’t notice where you are until you hear the sudden, pleasant sound of running water. Your eyelids flutter open fully when he places his hands on your cheeks, lips touching yours for a moment before he asks, “All good, baby?”

“Mmmhm,” you mumble, chasing his mouth some more, hands wandering to his bare chest.

“Are you still with me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Taehyung’s deep, reassuring voice whispers, taking your hand in his before he steps into the bathtub with you. He settles behind you, arms wrapping around your body as he kisses your hair and adds, “We’ll go to bed soon, okay? You deserve some rest.”

“Thank you… you monster.”

“Hey now,” Taehyung says, his laugh vibrating against your back as he grabs a shampoo bottle, “don’t act like you don’t like it.”

You move your head sideways, staring at his sharp features and flawless profile as you admit, “I love it. You’re insane, but so fucking hot.”

“Says you, gorgeous lady.”

He massages the shampoo into your hair and washes it off, cleaning your body carefully and gently; his touch builds a stark contrast to what he did to you in his living room. Soothing, comforting, fond.

As he plants occasional kisses on your shoulder and neck, you nearly fall into a slumber. He wipes your face clean, getting rid of any remnants of your smudged make-up before he informs you, “All done. Let’s get you to bed now, yeah?”

You yawn as he helps you get dressed, your fingers combing through your wet hair before you walk to his bedroom, your hand holding his and pulling him forward from behind you quietly. Taehyung doesn’t know what it is about you that draws him in every single time. What it is that makes him want to come back to you every day.

But when you cuddle into him in bed, pulling the blanket to your chin, he doesn’t bother figuring out what you ignite in him. Instead, he wishes you a good night, rubbing smooth circles on your back before he hugs you close and falls asleep with a smile plastered on his face.