#unfortunately I will never get that attention span

[tackykachowch]

OKAY CHAT I DIDN'T INTEND IT TO BE THIS WAY BUT THIS POST IS SUPER-HUGE. Read at your own risk lol

*taps the mic* Uh, welcome to Chili's. So, I mustered up the courage to finally make a post about how I view Silco and Jinx's relationship and why I think it is actually a lot better than it's commonly perceived. Please please please do not assume that I do this to specifically whitewash Silco or make him less morally gray, this is my genuine read on them based on my own experience and views. I do not claim that I don't have any bias at all, but I think that it didn't influence my opinion that much.

I am going to say this from the start: I don't have much negative to say about them and I don't think of their relationship as toxic. If this point of view is unacceptable to you, please disregard this post. However, if you want to discuss this topic with me and challenge my points, please be civil about it and don't insult me. I don't have any ill intentions, nor am I trying to normalize unhealthy behavior.

Okay, from this preamble to another. This analysis is going to be based entirely on season 1 and nothing else. Some of my points will address common perceptions about them in the fandom, some I'll write as a regular analysis.

Now let's start shall we (yes, this is going to be a one long post because they're so so important to me). In the second paragraph I said that I don't view their relationship as toxic. Let me explain. I think this is a very complex topic and opinions will vary from person to person. Considering that both Silco and Jinx are mentally ill this adds another layer to our already complicated cake. So, for me toxic relationships are those where at least one person almost always behaves in the way they see is right, disregarding other person's wants or needs. It also must include unhealthy/toxic behaviors, i. e. manipulation, gaslighting, possessiveness, control over other person's decisions, physical and/or emotional abuse etc etc. These behaviors must be routinely occurrences and not happen only once or twice. You can say: "But a lot of things you listed exactly describe how Silco behaves towards Jinx!" well. No but I'll get to this later.

There's also an elephant in the room we need to deal with: codependency. Now, I don't claim to be an expert on the topic or even well-informed, but I have a feeling that this term is a Bit overused. Terms, especially medical ones, are very useful for describing one specific thing. But as of late a lot of terms are used on things that are not. Well. The thing the term is describing. You don't need to go far for examples: hyperfixation, depression, panic attack, etc. When knowledge becomes widespread, things like that are inevitable, unfortunately. But back to the topic. Are Jinx and Silco's relationship codependent? I personally don't think so. One of the key characteristics of a codependent relationship is losing a sense of self and disregarding your wants/needs, and Jinx and Silco never display that. They are very self-driven characters. And while Jinx did do some things to impress Silco, it's not necessarily a symptom of a codependent relationship specifically. Again, I'll compare it to medical symptoms. If your right side hurts it doesn't mean you have appendicitis, if you have a short attention span it doesn't mean you have ADHD. Mental health problems Jinx and Silco have can be just that: mental health problems. Trust issues, low self-esteem, fear of abandonment, etc. They don't need to be a part of a bigger problem, even if there are some similarities. (Also just a side note: I got misdiagnosed with OCD this year, so I take correct descriptions and understanding of conditions/words very personally).

MAN THAT WAS TOO LONG. GET TO THE ACTUAL POINTS.

Alright. So first of all, Jinx and Silco are VERY trusting of each other. They both allow each other to enter their personal spaces, and feel comfortable and free in each other's presence. Silco allows Jinx to do his eye injections, to show him physical affection, he also trusts her with missions for his job, even when everyone else is against it. When Jinx in ep4 tells him that "(her screw up) won't happen again", he simply answers "I know". Despite Jinx's own insecurities Silco fully trusts her (sometimes even to his own detriment). And she fully trusts him as well (until the whole Vi shenanigans anyway), what can be seen in a way she's not afraid of his emotions or even to hurt him, because she knows perfectly well that he'll never harm her in any way (physical, I mean). And although there is a clear miscommunication between them in ep4 I don't think it's a common thing between them, and this specific case was caused by Jinx's deeply rooted trauma and low self-esteem, which Silco is unfortunately unable to fix.

Now onto the probably most common criticism of Silco specifically: that he made Jinx his weapon and raised her to be this bloodthirsty on purpose. And to this I say - no way. Silco DOES love Jinx and DOES trust her, but he's not blind and not an idiot. He perfectly knows that Jinx can cause a huge mess and potential troubles on the missions, his subordinates hate her, her mental state is unstable and therefore she's not the most reliable asset in the slightest, nor a necessary one. At no point do we get actual proof that Silco needs Jinx specifically for his operations, he seems to allow her to participate in them out of her own volition. After all, she does like being needed and included in the family business. You could argue that he needs Jinx for her gadgets and weapons, but nobody besides her uses them, so this option doesn't fit. "But he did request her to build Fishbones!" yeah. After Jinx stole the gemstone, again, out of her own choice. Silco is a swift strategist, if he sees an opportunity somewhere he takes it immediately. So there's nothing actually wrong with him asking Jinx to build a weapon with the use of gemstone. She didn't steal it for it to just. Lie there, after all. As to her bloodthirsty-ness I think he only nurtured what was already there. If you remember, in the very first episode Jinx made a bomb with NAILS in it. I don't think I need to tell you that it's just a horrible idea for a bomb, and she was only 9 at the time. As to Silco's "become what they fear" line. I don't think it indicates that he specifically raised Jinx to be a weapon, because he applied the same phrase to himself and we don't see him running around throwing glitter bombs at everyone (although it would've been cool to see ngl).

Next - Silco is very supportive of Jinx. His office is filled with things she drew all over, her inventions are tied to the ceiling. When Jinx is overwhelmed and upset about the failed mission he tells her to "focus on her gadgetry" and to "take some time". He clearly knows what she likes and what would put her in a better mood. He also doesn't restrict her self-expression, which can be seen in the way Jinx looks. I mean, you'd think that Silco would probably want for her to wear something more...classy? But he doesn't mind even one bit.

Another point I see a lot - that Silco loves Jinx but not Powder. I actually kiiinda understand where this point of view comes from, because the show does frame Vi and Silco as representatives of her Powder and Jinx persona respectively, but I don't think the text itself supports this. Let's take the river scene because it is the cause of this discussion in the first place after all. Silco tells Jinx that she needs "to let Powder die" and that "Jinx is perfect", but I don't necessarily agree that he meant it in a "choose between two of your personas" kind of way, because this conflict never existed between them in the first place. Vi does want "Powder" to come back, but Silco didn't show anything that would indicate of him disliking young Jinx in any way. He did adopt her when she was still Powder, after all. And even if she changed her name on the same night, her personality didn't, because that's not how humans work. So, he NEEDED to love Powder to raise her. Back to the river scene, he tells Jinx that she needs to let Powder die so "the fear of pain would no longer control (her)". "Powder" is tightly connected to Jinx's trauma of killing her entire family and Vi leaving her, i. e. the fear of pain of being betrayed again and the fear of messing up. In terms of psychology she really does need to live through this moment and properly process it, but unfortunately there's no psychologists in neither Piltover or Zaun, and Silco being mentally ill and not knowing better himself can only help her this way. "Jinx is perfect" also doesn't mean that he prefers Jinx over Powder, but rather "Jinx, the person you are right now, is perfect and strong. You need to let that weak part of you (Powder) die, so you can move on and become something greater". Jinx might've interpreted his line in the wrong way herself, but again, there's no actual evidence of Silco liking "Powder" less and only ever wanting "Jinx". And if we hop further into the finale, he literally says "YOU are perfect". Whatever seat she chooses, she will always be perfect to him. Even if she turns against him and everything he fights for, even if she kills him, even if she hates him, she remains perfect in his eyes. He might differentiate "Powder" and "Jinx" and a weaker/stronger part of her, but despite all that she's still his daughter.

Also. He's dealing with her mental health SOOOO great chat it's not even funny. I mean obviously he can't take care of it perfectly because again, psychology is non-existent in this world, but everything he CAN do he does just sooo good. He never lets other people berate or insult her, if he scolds her he only ever does this in private, he always tries to be patient and gentle with her, and the only time we seem him lash out at her is after Jinx stole the gemstone. He also seems to know what causes her psychosis and how to stop it, because he yells "Don't listen to her!" to Jinx when Vi triggers her, and then proceeds to try and shoot in Vi's direction to shut her up. We now know that this wasn't the best decision at all, but he literally goes feral when Jinx is hurt, so can you really blame him? There is of course an issue of him enabling her violence and letting her do everything she wants, but to cut Silco some slack he deals with a very mentally ill child, and as we saw in ep3 cutting Jinx off of something can easily cause her to have a mental breakdown. So I think partly his enabling was caused by his want not to hurt her.

Phew. I think we only need to get through the minor points now.

Manipulation: we only ever see Silco manipulate Jinx once, when he lied to her about Cait and Vi's reason for being in the Underground. Nothing indicates that he regularly manipulated her before.

Possessivness: I think this claim also doesn't have substantial evidence to back it up. We only see Silco being possessive of Jinx because of Vi, and even then it's not pure possessiveness. He literally doesn't want Jinx to be betrayed and possibly even killed like him. I think if Jinx just wanted to leave him on her own he would be a-okay with that. Also he doesn't watch over what she does/where she goes, which again reinforces his trust in her and him respecting her privacy.

Silco isolated Jinx from others: uhhh. See the end of the previous paragraph. If Jinx wanted to befriend someone she could've easily done that, and Silco wouldn't even know. The only person she couldn't befriend because of him is Ekko, but even he says to Vi that Jinx chose to be on Silco's side herself, so *shrugs*

And with that, I think I covered everything I wanted about their relationship. It's not perfect, but it's not bad either. Personally, I don't want to label it as anything, because minus the drug mafia and murders aspects they're just a regular father and daughter. There are no perfect parents, there are no perfect children, but if they try their hardest to love each other in a way they're both happy with, they're great in my book.

[writer-lythings]

Okay, I'm. Feel free to ignore this OP but if you are interested in discussion:

How do you define popular?

I really enjoy the angle at the beginning. Surely some of those other restaurants which couldn't keep up were equally passionate about food and not just out to get their paycheck. I appreciate the sympathy that drives this whole idea. It really is unfortunate not everyone can live their dreams in this reality we have on hand right now, where scarcity is very much present.

There are limits on the human attention span which will likely remain even after we solve the scarcity of basic needs, I agree.

But how do we define popular?

From Wikipedia for most watched YouTube videos:

"In November 2005, a Nike advertisement featuring Brazilian football player Ronaldinho became the first video to reach 1,000,000 views.[1] The billion-view mark was first passed by Gangnam Style in December 2012. On January 13, 2022, Pinkfong's "Baby Shark" became the first video to hit 10,000,000,000 views.[2]"

I would argue that we are currently undergoing a fascinating boom in artistic popularity and have likely not achieved the peak yet, even. The barrier of entry is low, yes. So is the layperson's access, such that even the most novice artist has a good chance of getting their art in front of hundreds of people, who, yes, may never choose to engage, yet how many people do you ignore on a short walk in your daily life? New York City had a population of 3 million people in 1900, and we can assume the odds of them all walking past the same lamppost was unlikely. Nowadays a small sticker or poster put up there can be photographed and shared across millions of views...yes this is anecdotal, I can't find the post I'm thinking of, but stretch your imagination a little bit. Bear with me. Sure, whoever tagged that lamppost probably isn't going down in the history books. Is that always the dream? To be remembered forever?

Or is it simply to be known in this moment, shared with a half dozen or half a million individuals who expended their limited attention on this small thing for awhile?

The owners of the closed restaurants would likely rather have gotten the acclaims and the media attention it takes to open dozens of locations. They would have appreciated an increase in all the various finite pressures which no doubt led to their closure. They weren't popular enough. They didn't have the social capital of the success story in your book. If everyone's dream is to achieve world rending fame the likes of which we'll still be discussing when Genghis Khan is forgotten, to reach the apex of their field such that it cannot ever be discussed without their name in the next breath...not everyone can achieve that dream.

But in a world where more people than ever are offering up their finite resources for art, for tasty food, then yeah, I can imagine a post scarcity utopia where everyone is also popular. It's not that much bigger of a stretch.

I've been reading a self-help book (don't ask) and they had this anecdote about this successful restaurateur and his struggle to operate dozens of restaurants. They talk about how the competition was steep, that at each location they had to be the ones to attract an audience, while nearby tried to do the same, but couldn't keep up and went out of business. Which kind of took me out a little bit because. Hmm. So obviously the story was framed with the guy as protagonist, about his passion for food and his drive to succeed. And I won't say he did anything wrong by doing his best, I'm happy for him that he succeeded and gets to live his life working with his passion and achieving his dream. But like, since these are real people being discussed, rather than characters, it did scan a little oddly to me to brush over in a line or two all the unnamed people who were probably equally passionate and driven, but yet failed, and thus could not be the focus of this story.

But I guess that's how it goes, right, for anybody to be the best at X thing, there have to be plenty of people who tried and failed. With occupations specifically there's the added bit where this reflects too a loss of livelihood and financial stability.

But even in a perfect world where society has moved completely beyond poverty, an imagined post-scarcity utopia, I'm not sure this is a problem that can conceivably be solved, no amount of resources can fix limited human time, attention, and prioritization. It kind of reminds me of that one tumblr post about the concert ticket problem, where even infinite resources still means only a limited amount of people can get tickets to a concert. Except rather than a temporary luxury (a single concert) it's an entire lifestyle; there's only a limited amount of popular restaurants.

But that's not really a hypothetical situation, though. That's something already happening today, in real life. And not just with restaurants. There have always been roles, lifestyles, jobs, goals, where the supply is far greater than the population can sustain. One only has to look at say, the art field, or all the people who want to be writers, to see that. And in those examples we can kind of see how this would play out - with the internet, the barrier to entry for creating and sharing art or writing is super low, anybody who wishes can be a writer or artist, and that's a wonderful thing. But the sheer amount of works being produced means an ever-shrinking percentage become well known and popular, simply because there are so many all competing for space in the public consciousness. And with art, at least, there is hypothetically room for an uncountable number of works to exist, without needing maintenance after being completed. For someone with a dream of being a chef and opening their own restaurant, you have additional concerns, like limited physical space, and having to maintain it through daily work rather than it ever being "completed." So probably the cap on the amount of popular restaurants able to exist simultaneously is even lower than the amount of popular artists. So unfortunately, no matter what, it seems only some people in life will be able to live their dreams.

[ginneko461]

Once I have the attention span to only work on one fic at a time, I will be unstoppable.

[kurthorton-moving]

11 movies away from surpassing 2023 as the year where I watched the most movies and its barely even february

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some guy gets arrested

Inspired by @medium-sized-ghost addition to the Original Post.

Masterpost

“So sorry about this, Mr. Wayne.”

“No, I understand. I’m just glad to see the law doing their job so well.” Bruce continues pleasantly through the police station with Commissioner Gordon leading the way.

“We’ll get this sorted out as soon as possible, but in the meantime you will need to unfortunately be placed in holding.”

“Of course. It’s really no problem, it was my mistake missing my court date like that. Time just gets away from me sometimes, you know?” Nevermind the fact that Bruce hadn’t even known about said court date or the speeding ticket it was for. He couldn’t prove which child had taken his car for a joy ride, but his prime suspects were Jason or Dick. (He would later find out that it was Stephanie upon a dare from Duke. He already attempted to banned them from playing Truth or Dare after Tim convinced Dick to do a handstand on Jason’s bike going 95 down the freeway. Not that Dick really needed any convincing.)

“Well you’re in luck, one cell is mostly empty.” It was a small cell closer to the front. Bruce could see a teenager laying on the bench to the right. Gordon opened the door and stood to the side so Bruce could enter and locked the door behind him. “Would you like anything to drink? Water? Coffee?”

Bruce smiled, “No, thank you.” Gordon nodded and looked past Bruce at the only other occupant in the cell, “What about you kid? Anything?”

Bruce watched as the kid, one he unfortunately recognized, lifted his arm from where it was thrown over his eyes and waved it in the air at the commissioner, “I’m good.” The arm went back down. Gordon grunted, “alright Officer Mitchell is keeping watch, call out if either of you need anything.”

With that Bruce was left alone with the boy who had befuddled and befriended his many children. He sat on the opposite bench and thought about how best to approach the young man. Danny had never responded well to Batman and there was no telling how he would respond to Bruce. According to Tim, Danny actually had some respect for Bruce and the money he dumped into bettering Gotham. (When it was announced that the public library was being renovated Danny had interrogated Tim about it and then offered his own opinions on how to involve more of the general population.)

Bruce didn’t think the time called for his “Brucie” persona and he couldn’t be Batman at the moment. He could approach the boy in a “fatherly” manner but that approach rarely worked on his own kids, he didn’t think it would work on this one.

“Have you called anyone?”

Danny looked out from under his arm and stared at Bruce suspiciously. In hindsight it was a creepy question.

Bruce brought his hands up and breathed a laugh, “I’m sorry, I meant have you been given your one phone call?” Danny didn’t move. “Why? You a lawyer?” He eyed Bruce in his nice suit and watch.

Bruce smiled at the boy, “goodness no, I don’t have the attention span for law school. I actually did pre-med before dropping out.”

Danny seemed too curl a little more into himself. It was the most cautious Bruce had ever seen him. He was locked in a Gotham police cell with a man in an expensive suit who seemed completely unconcerned about being arrested, it was wise on Danny’s part to be wary.

Bruce stuck out his hand, “Bruce Wayne.” Slowly, Danny sat up and crossed his arm scoffing, “why would Bruce Wayne be in a holding cell?” Bruce continued to smile at the kid and shrugged, his hand still in the air, “speeding ticket I’m afraid, missed my court date. I do have to say, though, the updated traffic cameras are a good investment by the police department.” “Wayne Enterprises payed for them.” “We did?” Bruce asked, knowing full well it was to give Oracle better camera footage. “You were at the press release.” “Huh.” Bruce looked thoughtful for a minute, “mm no, not ringing any bells. I go to so many of those press conferences, they just bleed together after a while.” “Mhm.” Danny still didn’t take the offered hand. Bruce sighed and let it drop back to his lap, “I’d offer to show you my ID but I don’t exactly have it on me.”

They sat and watched each other for a minute. Danny shifted and seemed to make a decision, “I work at a coffee shop and one of your sons is a regular.” Bruce slapped his thigh as if a light bulb suddenly went off, “You’re Danny! Tim’s mentioned you! You know he’s the only one with a weakness for caffeine, the others like to tease him but I don’t think he has an addiction. However, he does seem to spend a lot of time at that shop.” Bruce leaned forward as if confiding a secret, “to be honest, I think he has a bit of a crush on you.”

Dropping his own arms, Danny sighed. “Yeah, he’s not really that subtle.”

“No, I’m afraid he’s never been good at that. At least not when he’s interested in someone.” Tim was great at subtlety when it came to the mission but never in his personal life. The funny part was he didn’t even draw that distinction on purpose.

“I called a family friend. To answer your question. He should be here soon.” Bruce nodded, “so you do have people you can rely on in town?” “I could have a whole family I can rely on in this city.” Danny said, catching the older man's slip. He shifts further in his seat and stared hard at Bruce.

Bruce knew Danny had no one in town. He did the background check, Danny's whole family lived in Ohio with the exception of his older sister who was in one of the top psychology programs in the country. They seemed to visit each other often but rarely their parents.

The older man dawned an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, I assumed when you said ‘a family friend’.” Bruce leaned back against the wall behind him, “are you from Gotham?”

“No,” Danny shifted further back in his seat and didn’t take his eyes off Bruce.

It was different from how the boy interacted with Batman. To the billionaires alter ego Danny was defiant and outspoken. He always seemed to say what was on his mind, completely uncaring of the audience he had.

——-

“Mr. Fenton, your god-father is here for you.”

Danny never thought he’d feel this relieved to know Vlad was picking him up. While Mr. Wayne had been nothing but polite, something about the man felt off. Danny also didn’t appreciate the questions. What was it to this man if Danny had family near by or not?

One of the cops opens the door with Vlad in his nice suit and overly polished shoes right behind him.

“Daniel, let’s not make this a habit.”

“I was just feeding the homeless dogs!”

“Strays.” Vlad corrected, “while trespassing?”

Danny rolled his eyes and continued pass his “uncle”.

“How am I supposed to know an abandoned building is considered ‘private property’?”

Vlad just sighed.

——

Bonus:

Stephanie would continue to stick to her story, thank you very much. She had every right to punch the creep and she wasn’t backing down. Not even if “the creep” was apparently the son of a very influential prosecutor. A corrupt one, but he was influential nonetheless. Such is the justice system in Gotham.

Even if it landed her in a police station, handcuffed to a desk while said creep cried about the bloody nose she gave him.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, she crossed her legs and continued to glare at the door way that led to the holding cells. It was her night off and she still had to deal with this godforsaken city’s degenerate citizens. God forbid she have a day off.

It was while glaring at said door that Steph noticed a familiar boy walking out with a gentleman she wasn’t familiar with. He was a little behind Danny but reached out and grabbed his shoulder, stopping him just before leaving the hallway. Steph slid her gaze away but kept her ears open, grateful she was close enough to hear.

“You need to be more careful, Daniel.”

Danny didn’t respond and Steph looked over to see him pull his shoulder away and start walking again.

“You didn’t have to come all this way to bail me out. I could have called Jazz or Sam.”

“Nonsense, it’s good to get out of Wisconsin.”

Steph wrinkled her nose, Wisconsin? The pair continued out of ear shot and shortly out of the station.

When Bruce was released a few minutes later, Stephanie smiled and took great joy in his obvious (to any member of his family) despair and exasperation at seeing her.

Part 8

[bookshelf-dust]

gentle fingers, gentler boy

carmen berzatto x fem!hairdresser!reader

gif by @hotch-girl

word count: 3,589

warnings: swearing, joking mentions of arson, one donna mention, i don’t think anything else??

synopsis: carmy needs a haircut—desperately. or so natalie tells him. she sends him to you, and it’s safe to say carmy never would’ve expected a trim would turn into the best date he’s ever had in his life.

a/n: hello, my loves! don’t even ask my why this fic has taken me so long to write because i couldn’t tell you. but i do imagine it has something to do with the fact that i have the attention span of a goldfish these days. anyhow, i wrote this as a kind of predecessor to this fic, because something about carmy and his hairdresser gf is so special to me. let me know what you think!! happy reading <33

————

“You really do need a haircut, Bear.”

Sugar leans up against the office door frame. Her younger brother is hunched over the desk, an Igor incarnate, flipping through a pile of papers Cicero left for him. 

Richie’s voice booms throughout the kitchen. “I been tellin’ him that, Sug! It needs a wash, too. He’s startin’ to look like Jack…Jack…” He snaps his fingers, searching for a name. “The psycho asshole from The Shining!”

“Jack Torrence,” Marcus chirps.

“Jack Torrence!” Richie claps, making Sugar roll her eyes. She moves closer to Carmen, leaning against the corner of the desk. She crosses her arms. 

“I told you, Carm, you can go see my girl. She’s never done me wrong.” 

That small, gentle smile she has grows on her lips. Natalie gently pushes her brother’s shoulder. “And hey, she stopped me from getting bangs again a few weeks ago.”

Richie’s hands fly upward, pressing together in a prayer pose. “Thank fuck. Bangs were never your look, babe.”

“Shut up, Richie!” Sugar and Carmen’s voices ring out simultaneously, as if they’d rehearsed for this very moment of synchronization.

Carmy’s clogs drag against the tile floor as he braces his palms against the desktop and pushes himself backwards. He scrubs his face with his hands, leaving it tinged red when he finally relents.

He looks up at his sister, a firm wrinkle formed between her brows. Carmen huffs.

“What did you say her name was?” Carmy asks, eyes darting to the clock, searching for the time only to realize no one ever fixed the damn thing. “Hey, Richie! Can you get some fuckin’ batteries in here?”

Sugar’s eyes squeeze shut at the volume Carm’s voice has just reached. But nevertheless, she pinches her nose and says your name. 

“She’s like, fifteen minutes down the road. She went to school for it, she respects shy people, and I promise–she’s not gonna cut your ear off.”

Richie rounds the corner at that exact moment, a pile of double A’s shoved in his pocket. He pulls the analog clock off the wall and pries open the back panel. “Oh, you mean like that time Mikey snipped the tip of his ear clean–”

“Oh my god, enough, Richard!” Sugar’s hands fly around in front of her face. Unfortunately it only encourages Richie further, laughing to himself as he snaps four batteries into place. He’s still laughing—clapping his hands together because he’s so tickled—when he walks back toward the front of the house. 

Carmen’s fist covers his mouth. He’s tempted to laugh himself, but he at least knows better by now. Natalie sighs loud enough for the people across the street to hear. 

“Look, Carm. I’ll even make the appointment for you if that would help, but it’s gotta happen. You look like shit.”

Carmy snorts, standing up from the wonky office chair. “Thanks, Nat.”

Sugar’s phone is already in her hand. 

“So that’s a yes? What time would be best? Actually, I’ll just tell you when you’re going. Settled.”

————

“You getting off, Leigh?”

Your coworker ties her hair up in an artfully messy bun. “Yeah, babe. I took a half day because it’s date night tonight.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, shimmying her way across the floor so she can plant a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“Your mom got the kids?” You ask, laughing to yourself as you rinse the leftover conditioner from your sink. 

Leigh claps her hands. “All weekend, girl!” 

You toss your gloves in the trash, letting her hug you and bounce up and down in glee. She deserves this. She hasn’t gotten a night out with her husband in months, their three-year-old twins keeping them more than occupied.

“I hope you have fun tonight. Drink something with Irish cream in it for me, will you?” 

Leigh’s hands pat your cheeks gently. “Oh, you know I will. Just wish you were getting out there too.”

You wave her away, and she’s quick to hold up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Is Natalie’s brother still coming in today?”

Your eyes dart to the clock over her head. “Should be here in like, five minutes.”

The doorbell chimes. 

Both yours and Leigh’s heads snap in that direction. 

“Or…now.”

“Oh, fucking Christ.”

Your eyes flick back to each other immediately, having spoken at the exact same time. Leigh is not gonna let your outburst go. 

There’s already a devilish grin growing across her face. “You think he’s hot, don’t you?”

You dart around her. “No. Those words never left my mouth.”

She catches you by the belt loop. “You’re right, I believe your exact words were ‘Oh fucking Christ, he could bend me over right here.’” Leigh’s laughter bubbles up and you fear she might keel over. 

“That is an exaggeration,” you huff. 

Leigh slings her worn out, bright red purse over her shoulder. “Bet you were thinking it though.” She risks a glance over her shoulder. “You’re not wrong though. His arms are huge. And you better go help him before we get a bad Yelp review.”

You start to wave her away. “Yeah, alright.” You follow her towards the front desk. “Have fun tonight,” you shout, “and remember to make sure you have meds for tomorrow’s hangover.”

She fake gasps, pausing just beside where Carmen is standing. “Me? Hungover? Never.” Leigh lowers her sunglasses just slightly and directs her next few words at the man in front of her. “She’ll take real good care of you, youngest Berzatto.”

The doorbell chimes as Leigh makes her way out to her beat up Mustang, leaving you and Carmy alone out front. 

He laughs awkwardly, shuffling towards the front counter to meet you.

“Sorry about her,” you say. “She’s full of it. Anyway, Carmen, right? Natalie told me you’d try and come by today.”

Carmy’s cheeks burn with embarrassment from being put on the spot. But also because you’re so…pretty. He manages to pull together a few coherent words. 

“She really said try?” he asks, the barest of smiles gracing his lips.

You cross your arms and walk over to your station. “No. It was more of ‘He’ll be there at 4:30 tomorrow or else I’m going to burn down The Bear and keep the insurance money for myself.’”

Carmen scratches at his curls. “Yeah, that I believe.”

You gently pat the back of your leather chair. “You can sit whenever you’re ready. I realize I never really introduced myself.” You say your name, and even if it’s a name Carm has heard a hundred times before, it somehow sounds hypnotizing falling off your lips. 

The leather backing is cold through Carmy’s t-shirt. He hopes the shiver that moves down his spine when you thread your fingers through his hair passes off as the coinciding goosebumps. 

“So, what are we thinking today, Carmen?”

His big blue eyes blink at you through the mirror. “Carmy,” he says.

“Hm?” you hum, running a wide-toothed comb carefully through his curls so that nothing snags. 

“You don’t have to call me Carmen. Makes me feel like I’m in trouble.” A low laugh tumbles over his lips. “Carmy is fine.”

You smile at him. “Okay, Carmy. What would you like me to do with your hair today? Buzz cut? Mohawk?” You walk around to face him head on. “Extensions?”

You notice how nervously he plays with his hands. But you get it. You’re hoping to make him as comfortable as you can, and not just for that good Google review.

Carmy runs a hand over his mouth, hiding the sweet smile that’s growing there. The crinkles by his eyes give it away. You’re so fucking charming he can’t stand it. 

He clears his throat. “I was thinking just a trim? It’s kinda long over my eyes, and sometimes it’s good to see things.” You giggle. 

Good god, how’s he gonna get through this?

“Maybe a little shorter on the sides, too.”

“Like a mullet?” You quip.

He snorts. “Nah, not a full mullet. Maybe where it’s barely noticeable that it’s shorter there? I’m also shit at taking care of it, so if you could help with that…”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth. Carmy has to clear his throat, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. “How ‘bout this. I’ll take you to the sink and give it a wash, and then we’ll trim it, and I can have you help me style it so it’s easier when you’re at home?”

Carmy nods. “Yeah, that’d be great, thank you.” 

Your hand slides across the back of his shoulders as you move away and towards the back room full of head-sized basins. “Come on then, Mr. Berzatto. Let’s wash that pretty head of yours.”

————

“That feels so good,” Carmen says, the words leaving his mouth before he has a moment to think them over. “Wait—is that a weird thing to say?”

You laugh from your place behind him. “No, not at all. That’s why I keep my nails a little longer, because my clients always tell me this is the best part.” Your hands are covered in a lavender-scented shampoo, your fingertips massaging the foam into his scalp. “A good head scratch does wonders for the soul.”

You watch Carmy’s lips lift at the corners. His eyes are closed, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he dozed off. You’re always happy to keep a conversation going with clients, but the silence is just as well.

The sounds of foils getting folded in place by your coworker out front, the air conditioner, the radio—it’s all oddly soothing. The radio station Leigh always sets it on has the oddest selection of music choices for one given channel. Not that you mind that either. 

You rinse Carmen’s hair out and apply conditioner to the mids and ends of his curls. You blindly grab a comb, muscle memory putting it in your grasp in seconds.

Carmy swears he’s gonna knock out. He’s trying about as hard as he did in school when he knew he should be paying attention to whatever math lesson but couldn’t keep his eyes open. And when your words reach his ears, he thinks you’ve just read his mind. Sensed the sleep pricking at his eyelids. 

“You do have really nice hair, Carmy. Anyone else in your family have curls?”

You watch the way his brows knit together. “I think my mom? You’d never know it though. She’s straightened it every day since I was a teenager, like even when we weren’t leaving the house.”

You focus on your final rinse of his hair, allowing him to continue. “When I was a kid though, if she showered before bed and I needed her, her hair would be all wet and curly. That’s the only time I saw it like that.”

Carmy sits up when you wrap a thin towel around his head, holding it secure as he follows you back to your station. 

“Leigh, the woman leaving when you came in? She has lots of clients like that. A lot of people weren’t taught how to take care of their curly hair.”

“Is that a hint?” Carmen quips. It makes you snort. 

“Just a gentle one.”

Carmy watches while you cut his hair. Every once in a while your tongue will poke out, or you’ll wiggle your hips to a song on the radio. When you’re almost finished, what Carmen thinks is a Madonna song comes on. 

You start humming, and Carmy knows he’s done for. Richie would call him whipped. He probably will tomorrow morning, just by reading Carm’s face. 

“Out of the sky, I close my eyes…heaven help me.”

Carmy lets out a little laugh because you’re doing this little dance as you sift through his curls. You hear it, and it only encourages you more. 

“Big Madonna fan?” he asks, his hand rubbing over his mouth to hide the boyish grin there. The tattoo on his hand catches your eye. 

“She’s good for the soul.”

You crouch in front of him, rummaging through a cabinet for he doesn’t know what. “Your tattoos are pretty, by the way,” you say. It takes him by surprise. 

“Oh. Thanks.”

You emerge with two bottles. “Do people not usually compliment them?” You spray his hair down with cool water, getting it to the stage of damp you need for the products to work. 

Carmy laughs lowly. Maybe with a little hint of embarrassment. “Nah, they usually ask me what the hell they are or if I was drunk when I got ‘em.”

“Were you?”

He meets your playful gaze. “Only for a few.” Your smile is downright gleeful. 

“M’kay, Carm. Let me give you the rundown.” He straightens and you get a glimpse of the chef he left at The Bear to visit you today. “So this is a leave-in conditioner. After you shower, you put just a little of this in your hands—like this—and kinda run it through your hair all over. Just so it’s in there well.”

You demonstrate, and for the first time, Carmy finally understands how people can look at him and question his ability to cook so seamlessly. That’s the way you do hair. Like it’s as easy as breathing for you. 

“And this is a gel. It’s super lightweight, so it won’t feel gross or anything, and it’s not expensive either. You wanna use a little more of this, but not by much. You can do the same sort of thing, because your hair takes shape really easily since it’s not damaged any. And once that’s distributed, I want you to scrunch it some, just to get any excess product, but also to help any curls that need encouragement.”

You bite your lip because Carmy is nodding along, giving you his complete attention and it’s fucking adorable. 

“And if there’s any curls by your face or anything, you can use your fingers to define them so they look how you want. You think you can do all that?”

Carmy laughs. “Not a chance.” Then you’re both laughing, and it feels so comfortable anyone would think you’d known each other for years. 

“It takes practice. I’m gonna give you these to take home and use.” Your hand disappears in your back pocket for just a moment. “But if you want to put your number in my phone, I can always send you instructions if you need help…”

Carmy pauses. Freezes, even. You look at him nervously, afraid that maybe your ability to read the room has evaporated. Luckily, he proves you wrong. 

“Wow. That was smooth.”

You exhale and laugh into the back of your hand. “I’m never that smooth, I don’t know how I managed that,” you chuckle. Carmy’s fingers fly over your keyboard. 

“Thank you for today, really. I usually avoid the hairdresser at all costs.”

“Sugar did tell me that,” you grin. 

“M-maybe I could make you dinner or something, for putting up with me…?”

Your face warms. “I’d like that, yeah.”

Carmy blinks. His phone goes off where you’ve shot him a text with just your name and a smiley face. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

He rubs his hands together. “Okay, cool. Alright, yeah. What do you like?”

“I wouldn’t say no to pasta. Pasta is good in all forms.”

————

“You can tell me if you hate it. I won’t be offended.”

“I think you might have a nervous breakdown though, and you’re too pretty for that.”

Carmy blushes, shaking his head at you. 

“What?” you laugh. “It’s true.” Your voice has a sing-song lilt to it. Over the past few weeks you’ve gotten to know Carmy a bit better. He’s been busy though, so it’s taken longer than expected to have dinner together. 

He made up for it by providing you with pasta and cheesecake for dessert. He’s wearing this thick sweater, your eyes locking on his forearms where he’s rolled up the sleeves. 

Sugar was so excited when you texted her after his hair appointment. 

Natalie B: How’d it go? Was he a total pain in the ass?

You: it went well! got him all sorted out. he offered me dinner as a thank you (after he paid, of course). would that weird you out??

Natalie B: OMG NO!! He’s got such a giant stick up his ass, maybe your charm pulled it out! Go have fun. Leigh was telling me you hadn’t been on a date in forever last time I was in anyhow.

You: brb blocking both of you shitheads ♥️

You hadn’t expected a haircut to lead to any of this, but sitting here, in Carmy’s sparsely furnished apartment, looking at the soft smile on his face and the nervous way he’s fussing with his fingers as you eat the dinner he made you, you’re grateful.

Not that you’ll tell Natalie that. Or Leigh. They don’t need that ego boost. 

You wipe your mouth on a napkin and look up to see that Carmy is gazing at you expectantly. You laugh, his eye contact making you a little nervous. 

“It’s good, Carm. Really good. You can eat.”

He swipes his hand down his face, but when it comes down to grab his fork, he lets you see his smile. “I’m glad you like it. Not too much parsley or anything? I didn’t add lemon because Sugar mentioned you saying you didn’t like pasta with too much lemon juice in it.”

Your mouth drops open. That’s such a small, easy to forget thing. Maybe you will have to give Nat a hug. 

You reach out to touch his hand. Tentatively, just in case it’s too far. “That’s so sweet, Carmy. It’s perfect, really. And honestly the lemon thing is from one very overpowering pasta experience. Maybe whatever you make me will be better.”

Carmen takes a big bite of pasta and a swig of beer so he has time to collect himself. “Maybe we can fix your lemon-related trauma.”

“As long as there’s a backup snack in case the lemon PTSD can’t be fixed.”

You both burst into a fit of giggles. The rest of dinner goes by, filled with conversation about everything and nothing—Carmy’s lack of knowledge about current television, your love of reading and need for someone to share the plots with. 

Carmen is making you a plate to take home with you when he’s finally psyched himself up to ask his question. He says your name and you peer at him from your spot against the counter. 

“I-uh…I’ve been trying to do my hair the way you taught me, but I can’t get it right. I was wonderin’ if you’d show me? Maybe? You don’t have to—”

“Of course I can. All you had to do was ask.” You push off the counter and beam at him. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

You’re lucky you already learned the way to his bathroom so that your streak of confidence would continue working so well. And when you squeeze out some of the hair gel into Carmy’s hands, you know he just needed an excuse. He’s got it down pat. 

He runs his hands through his hair, scrunching clumps together every now and then, finger-curling the pieces up front and by his ears. Now you’re just waiting to see what he really wanted to say. 

You cross your arms, attempting to look serious, but you can’t hold back the grin spreading across your face. 

Carmen looks over at you, drying his hands now that they’re free of product. He’s never been great at reading people, but that look in your eye tells him he’s a shit actor. 

“So, that didn’t fool you, huh?”

You giggle. “Not at all, Berzatto. You couldn’t even fake how well you’ve learned to do your hair.”

Carmy takes a step closer to you, rubbing his nose self-consciously. “I’m very bad at saying what I’m thinking. Or saying what I want.”

“I can see that.”

He squints at you, his lips ticking up just slightly. 

“So what is it you want but are too scared to say?” you start. “Do we need to play hangman?” 

That would normally get a laugh out of him, but he’s too on edge. Inhale. Exhale. Oh, just fucking say it, Carm. 

“I wanna kiss you.”

Your ears burn. You release your bottom lip from where it was pinned between your teeth. “I was hoping you’d say that. Please do.”

You push up on your tiptoes, suddenly bursting with excitement and hoping that’ll convey to Carmen that he doesn’t need to be nervous because you want this just as bad. 

It works. 

You put your hands on Carmy’s collarbones the second his fingers slip into your hair. Your nervous system lights on fire, thoughts of how much surface area his palms cover racing through your mind. He kisses you all shy and hesitant at first, like he’s nervous he won’t do what you’re hoping. 

His lips are warm, and you can feel the spots where he’s chewed them raw. You can’t help but think that kissing him might be a good way to break that habit. His nose presses into your cheek, tickling you and making you giggle.

Carmen pulls away, smiling at you. “What’s so funny?”

“Your nose was tickilin’ my cheek.”

“Oh? Like this?” He starts dragging his nose across your face and then down to your neck when he feels you start to laugh harder. He thinks he’s finally cracked the code. It seems like pasta and nose tickles are the proper way into your heart. 

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

rb banner from @steph-speaks

[lipglossanon]

October 29th

Kink: Spanking

Pairing: Best friend’s dad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, spanking, age gap (reader is early 20’s with Leon being early 40’s), teasing, degradation, name calling, kissing, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, cheating

not proofread

The Kennedy’s live in a cul-de-sac so there’s always a ton of trick or treaters on Halloween. Your friend, Kirsty, invited you over to help hand out candy. That was the plan. Unfortunately, her boyfriend got caught up in some mess and she has to leave to go bail him out. 

It’s why you’re now hanging out in an empty house wearing a fairly modest Freddy Krueger costume. Nothing to give parents a heart attack when you open the door to drop candy into their kiddos’ little plastic jack o’lanterns; but, you have enough leg showing that it’s not exactly subtle either. 

It must be why Mr. Kennedy is giving you the side eye when he strolls in off of work. You’re relaxing on the couch, candy bowl nearly empty on the table in front of you, when he sits down with a spare cushion between you. 

“You two haven’t left yet?”

You close your phone and turn your attention to him. It would be a lie to say you’ve never thought your friend’s dad was hot, but he’s never looked at you twice so it’s just something you’ve kept to yourself. However, now, his eyes linger on your legs, drifting up to your thighs then your breasts—lingering on your cleavage until he flicks his blue eyes up to your face. 

It all happens in the span of a couple of seconds, but it feels like a lifetime. The spit in your mouth dries up when you finally lock eyes. 

Clearing your throat, your nerves get the best of you, “N-no, uhm, Kirsty actually—she left. To pick up her boyfriend.”

He hums, relaxing a little into the couch and spreading his legs. Your eyes are drawn to the movement and you can see the outline off his cock. 

“It’s impolite to stare, honey. Don’t you have any manners?”

“Sorry, Mr. Kennedy.”

He grins and it makes your heart race. 

“I-I should probably get going,” you fidget with the hem of your dress, realizing exactly how short it is. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Aww honey, that’s just rude,” he narrows his eyes.

This draws you up short and your brows pinch together in confusion, “Rude how?”

“You’re not even going to wait on my daughter to get home before leaving?”

You give a minute shake of your head, “She’ll understand.”

He clicks his tongue, a hot palm coming down on your thigh and making you jump. 

“I don’t think so, you can sit right here until she gets back. Keep me company.”

Biting your bottom lip, your clit throbs at his rough tone. 

“I think I should go,” you murmur, eyes dropping back down to his half hard cock. 

“Such a misbehaving girl,” he sighs out before shifting closer to you. “Guess I’ll need to rectify that.”

You gasp in surprise when he grabs your biceps and manhandles you facedown over his lap. Your dress rides up with the movement, showing off the cute panties you wore tonight. His palm comes down on your ass and you yelp like a struck dog. 

“Now, are you going to behave?” He asks, voice rich and deep, making you press the dough of your thighs together. 

Gathering up what little awareness you have, you mewl, “Yes, yes, I-I will.”

He chuckles, but doesn’t say anything. He rains slaps across your ass, spanking each cheek in the same spot until the sharp stings turn into a dull burn. After the first few, you can’t hold back your gasps and whines. Slick drools from your cunt and embarrassment burns hot in your belly. 

You can feel Mr. Kennedy’s chubbed cock underneath your pelvis and it makes your mouth water. Losing count of his slaps, you only notice he stops when his hand cups your pussy from behind.

“I don’t think my lesson’s sinking in, sweetheart,” he mocks, fingers drumming against your panty covered slit. “Think I need to go a bit further, really drive the point home.”

As the word drive leaves his lips, he presses his fingers into your hole, panties stretching uncomfortably as he pushes the fabric into your clenching heat. He chuckles, mean and low, grinding his digits in until you’re whining and shifting in his lap. 

“Please,” you moan. “I’ll behave, sir.”

He groans and pulls back his hand to slap the wet gusset of your panties, “There we go, knew that sweet mouth of yours knew some manners.”

He wrenches your panties down and off, digits going back to press into your drooling hole. Spreading your legs as much as you can, you whine when he roughly finger fucks your pussy.  Growling, he slides them out, fingers wet where he grips your hips and wrangles you back onto your front. Guiding your movement, he situates you until you’re seated over his legs. 

“Gonna fuck your wet pussy, honey,” he grunts, unbuckling and unzipping his slacks before pulling his cock free. “Show that little hole who’s in charge.”

Your eyes flutter when he slaps his cock down onto your clit, a quick plap plap plap that has his tip drooling precum on your swollen bud. Moaning, you angle your hips and slide yourself down on his cock, pussy walls stretching around his thick length.

“Anyone could walk in and see me stuffing this slutty pussy,” he laughs in your ear. “Such a little home wrecker.” 

Your cunt clamps down on his cock, clit pulsing from his words. Tucking your face into his shoulder, your body feels hot all over. His hands slip under your dress to grab fistfuls of your ass, skin stinging at the contact. 

“C’mon be a good cocksleeve,” he croons nastily. “Work that fat pussy up and down my cock.”

Mewling, you slowly begin to bounce on his lap, fucking yourself on his dick. It doesn’t take long until you’re moaning and panting, riding his cock hard and fast, your hand shifting down between your bodies so you can rub your clit. 

“Yeah, that’s a good girl, make yourself cum for me,” he groans, head leaning back against the couch so he can watch more easily. “Rub that slippery little clit, honey.”

“Mr. Kennedy,” you moan, thighs burning from the constant motion while your pussy flutters and grips onto his cock. 

With his free hand, he yanks the neck of your shirt down until your breasts spill out for his greedy eyes. 

“God, look at those fucking tits,” his cock flexes inside your puffy cunt. “Fuck, keep working my cock cause I’m about to shoot a thick load in this soft little pussy.”

Arousal is a steady thrum in your body, cunt slick and greedy as you ride your best friend’s dad on their family couch. Your fingers quicken on your clit, pussy humping down on his cock faster and faster. Leaning forward, he begins to taste your nipples, sucking and licking the stiff buds with a loud groan. 

It’s enough to push you over the edge, climax whiting out your brain as you cry out. You sit heavily in his lap, cock buried to the hilt in your snug pussy, milking and clenching down on his fat length. 

“God that’s it, take it, fuck gonna creampie your sweet little hole,” he pants, rutting up into you until he spills his load with a grunt. 

Hot spurts of cum fill your pussy to the brim, slowly leaking out around his cock. Shivering, you rock your hips back and forth, the aftershocks of your orgasm zapping through your body. Pulling you in close, he kisses you messily, tongue licking past your slack lips until you’re kissing back just as eagerly. 

You sit in Mr. Kennedy’s lap, his cock half hard inside your sore pussy, while you makeout on the couch. His hands run all over your body, grabbing your ass and hips before running his thumbs across your nipples only to repeat the process over and over again. It has you squirming against him, body keyed up and turned on, until he’s fucking up into you again. 

“Fucking slut,” he rumbles against your mouth, cock squelching with every thrust in and out of your pussy. “You’re making me cum in you again. What a selfish girl.”

Mind blissed out, you only hum in response, kissing him again while he groans into your mouth. This time the sex is quick and dirty, both of you so sensitive that you each cum within seconds of the other. Your pussy milks another load from his throbbing cock, his balls flexing as he pumps more cum into your overly stuffed hole. 

“God, breeding a tight little pussy never gets old,” he sighs, head flopping back onto the couch. “Gonna keep me company the rest of the night.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Kennedy,” you nuzzle into his neck and he slaps your ass gently. 

“Good girl.”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Coyote Hybrid x Small Dog Hybrid Reader

When we talk about hybrids being brought to a loving and caring home 

from the cold facilities or the dangerous streets

But what about the other way around

You are the hybrid

Pampered and adored by your owners in the comfort of their home

Let out to play in the gated back yard filled with toys all specially chosen just for you 

But recently you’ve heard something or someone call for you

For all the attention your owners give they’re still human 

Shorter attention spans, less energy, and just a lack of interest in anything that you enjoy

But the one who’s calling out there understands

The howling and yipping just like your littermates from way back when

Just begging for you to come out and play 

So one day you’ll sneak through the door 

Excited to finally play with the one who’s been calling for you for weeks now

When you do meet him you had no expectations 

But his rough coat and skinny body say he’s nothing like you

“I’m so glad you came out, I’ve been calling to you forever.”

It’s so much fun 

He plays just like the dog hybrids you see on their walks

It’s such a fun time you don’t even realize how late it gets

Or how much you’ve ventured past the hole in the fence 

And by the time you realize 

It’s too late

“You dumb dog, you make it far too easy.”

The coyote who you’d been tricked by takes your disoriented confusion to drag you into the woods

The coyote who’s watched you from afar and found that they’d love nothing more than to add you to their pack

Even though they’ve massacred and fed hundreds of other unfortunate dog hybrids to their pack 

This one 

You are mighty special

He’ll easily latch onto your collar and pull you along 

Your measly kicking and yelping are drowned out as you're taken into the deep patch of the woods

The coyote hybrid–Kyte doesn’t let up in his insults to you

“So helpless without your human owners aren’t you? Bet they’ll be happy to know I’ll be taking you off their hands!”

“But I’m good! They love me!”

“Ha if they loved you they never would have let you out!”

Kyte means that as he shoves you down a ledge deeper into the cave his pack calls home

Swarmed by coyote pups and curious members of the family 

All you get are a few curious nips before Kyte chooses to take you aside

With no other familiar faces just glowing yellow eyes you retreat to Kyte’s side as he takes you to his area in the cave

“Y-you tricked me! And abducted me!”

“Hm is that what you think dumb dog, I’ve courted you and you were stupid enough to resist.”

Kyte while shoving his nose into your neck will explain how his playing was an offer 

“Don’t you see it’s as much your fault as mine. Won’t you accept me?”

If you are foolish enough to refuse with his larger stature

And those sharpened teeth lightly gliding over your skin

He’ll squeeze you tight 

“I guess you prefer to let your loyalties lie with your living owners. Well, I guess we’ll just have to fix that.”

[cyberels]

later, loser.ᐟ ᯓ★

˗ˋˏ 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ˎˊ-

☆ ellie discovers the quickest way to get a girl underneath her

daily click! palestine masterpost

☆: sometimes i start writing without a plot in mind to get myself out of a funk and and and this is what i came up w lol so sorry if it’s doodoo ass

☆ warnings -> mention of blood, injuries, all that good shit that comes with skateboarding, probably really inaccurate skating talk, drugs, tbh probably really bad writing but bare with me here, no concept of stranger danger from reader when she sees a hot girl (ellie) for plot reasons lol

☆ skaterboarder!ellie yayyy she wears glasses because i said so &&&&& also ellie works at a vinyl shop and reader works at a bakery :)

☆ ☆ ellies playlist! ☆ ☆

u don’t have to listen but i made it to listen while i write and i thought it’d be fun to add

my masterlist

ellie was no stranger to making mistakes, she’s human, it happens… however, she usually doesn’t make this many stupid choices within the span of one single hour.

today, ellie was running late.

mistake number one.

she practically flew out of the door and hopped on her board, mumbling a half assed apology to her neighbor who she accidentally shoulder checked on her way out when she put on her headphones.

she’s probably going way too fast, but she’s been skateboarding for years, she can handle it. she still has the penny boards that she started skating on when she was 12 hanging up in her living room, right beside some of her other boards she’s had since then that she’s either destroyed or replaced. she weaved in and out of the people walking practically effortlessly, not caring if she was pissing anyone off, they’d live. she’d never have to see them again, anyways.

she opened her phone to turn on her music.

you, on the other hand, were taking your time; you had a good while until you had to be at work. you’ve created a habit of looking for ladybugs in the bushes outside your apartment complex after you noticed that the plant is home to many of the little insects. usually you just glance at the plant as you pass by, but today, you fully stopped to look.

unfortunately, you were unaware of ellie being just feet away from you.

guess you’re no stranger to mistakes, either.

granted, ellie would have had enough time to stop… if she was paying attention.

which she was not.

mistake number two.

you hear a string of curse words behind you. you barely manage to turn around before you’re pushed into the bushes by a girl who promptly lands on top of you. her skateboard rolled away pathetically. it’s almost like it was embarrassed, too.

if there had been any ladybugs, they were definitely squashed now.

you open your eyes slowly to find the other girl hovering just above you. her necklace dangles temptingly close to your lips as she pushes herself up. she's still on top of you, her face just inches away from yours. she blinks a few times, slowly taking in the situation. she seems lost in thought, the wheels in her head turning painstakingly slowly as she tries to comprehend what's happening and her part in it.

she’s taking way too long to get off of you, though, which only serves to frustrate you more.

“hellooo? can you get up?” you mumble through gritted teeth to the girl above you, turning your head to the side to avoid her gaze.

in hindsight, you probably should’ve asked if she was okay, but right now all you wanted to do was get up and pretend like this never happened.

you don’t even want to know how many people saw you fall.

“oh— oh fuck.” ellie stuttered, taking one last glance at you before she moved herself onto the sidewalk, not finding the strength to stand up fully just yet.

she grabbed her headphones that had been flung off in the impact. small scrapes lined the side of them, but at least they probably still worked. she put them around her neck, letting her head fall back in her hands. she took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on her emotions and the situation.

you sigh as you get up, and ellie can tell you’re mad based solely on how the exhale of air sounded.

“uh… you good?” you ask after an uncomfortable pause, eyeing the other girl. it was obvious you didn’t really care, but at least you tried to be polite.

you were still taking your time collecting yourself, brushing leaves out of your hair and wiping blood from your hands onto your jeans (thank god you wore black jeans today). you were definitely going to be sore tomorrow, but other than your scraped up hands, you were fine.

just really pissed off.

ellie looked up at you and then immediately looked back down, running her hands over her face once more. “yeah, i’m… good.”

you roll your eyes as you hold your hand (the one with the least amount of scrapes) out towards ellie, offering to pull her up. you can't help but feel pity as she sits on the sidewalk. not in a sympathizing way, but more of a "damn, this girl looks pathetic" way. she hesitates for a second, but then grabs your hand and smiles weakly.

“thanks.”

as much as you know that this situation partially is your fault, you’re still annoyed. you had spent so long getting ready today just to have some idiot push you into dirt.

when you speak again, your words come out harsher than you intended… not that you minded. “yeah. watch where you’re fucking going next time.”

ouch.

okay, maybe (keyword: maybe) ellie had caused the worst part of this, but she wasn’t going to sit here and take you blatantly being rude when you’re just as much to blame as she is. “maybe if you didn’t think you owned the sidewalk, i wouldn't have ran into you.”

you reach down beside you and grab her, now shattered, phone and her (also shattered) glasses. you raise your eyebrows as you look over the broken screen.

“maybe if you were paying attention.” you pause, wiggling the phone in front of her face. “you would’ve realized i stopped walking.”

she snatched her things back, she didn’t have a comeback for that.

her phone was fucked… usable, but the screen was shattered so badly that if she scrolled on it she’d probably slice open her thumb. small price to pay, she figures.

it’s not like she’s gonna buy a new one… but she would have to cough up the money for new glasses, though. damn it.

“why the hell did you stop walking anyways?”

you hesitate, looking back at the bush sheepishly, vaguely gesturing towards it as you speak again. “i— not that it’s any of your business— i wanted to see if there were any ladybugs on the leaves.”

“…oh.”

well now ellie just feels like a dickhead, because that’s actually really cute. that was not the answer she was expecting.

you continue looking away and ellie sighs, attempting to push past you to grab her skateboard.

mistake number three.

the second she takes a step, she falls into you again, her ankle completely giving out underneath her. you catch her, your arms wrapping around her hips as you hold her up.

ellie has never wanted to die more than she did at this moment.

her face was literally sandwiched in between your chest. she pushed herself back, hopping slightly.

what the fuck just happened?

“oh my fucking god. i’m so sorry. i– oh fuck, this is so awkward.”

yeah, awkward was one word for it. you stare at her blankly for a moment before you kick her skateboard towards her.

you could feel her touch lingering on your body like she was still there. if your hands were just a little lower you would’ve…

“its– it’s fine. dude, are you sure you’re alright?”

you sound more like you care this time, at least.

not that you do care, or anything,

just trying to make sure she wasn’t seriously hurt.

that’s all.

“i’m fine.” it was an obvious lie, but she was preoccupied with thinking about how she was going to skate to and from work if she could barely walk… she’d have to deal with it, she decided. there wasn’t any other option for her right now, she was already late.. “i’ll be fine.”

“very convincing.” you reply, looking her up and down. “you’re not seriously about to get on that thing again, are you?”

“not that it’s any of your business, but i don’t have any other choice, i’m gonna be late to work and this is all i have to get me there.”

you narrow your eyes at her.

no way this girl was reckless and stupid.

“what? you can’t be serious… you’re still going to work? are you an idiot?”

ellie doesn't answer right away, glancing down at her skateboard for a bit. you’re right, she should call out, but she hated the prospect of missing a day of work. money had been tight, even one missed day would be hell for her and her bank account.

“you gonna give me the money i’d lose if i called out?”

you opened your mouth to reply, but she was already flying past you, very clearly having a hard time but also very clearly not caring.

“don’t stop in the middle of the sidewalk next time, dumbass!” she yelled, leaving you standing in the same spot just watching her leave.

…and kinda wishing she’d come back.

just so you could get the last word.

when you walk into work, it’s unfortunately obvious that you’re pissed off, if the way your manager immediately asks what happened as soon as you clocked in was anything to go by.

you’re thankful for the excuse to rant, though.

“god, abby, where do i even start? i literally just walked out of my apartment and some girl on a skateboard slammed into me and we both went flying into a stupid plant. got a face full of bush and not even the good kind.”

“jesus,” abby laughed, picking a leaf out of your hair. “was she hot?”

“was she hot? is that seriously all you’re gonna say?”

“...well?”

“i hate you so much… but yeah, she was.” you admit, defeat obvious in your tone. you’re well aware that this would’ve been a lot easier for you if you didn’t find the dumb skater attractive. you’d been close enough to her face to see every detail… her freckles, her eyes, her lips— damn it. you couldn’t get her out of your head.

this felt like a sick joke.

abby clapped her hands together. “this isn’t a completely bad thing! did you get her number?”

“no, abby, i didn’t get her number. i was too busy trying to get her away from me because she was stupid and annoying.”

“you’re no fun, could’ve got yourself a skater girl.” she frowned. “are you okay though?”

“you should’ve led with that question, you know?” you huff, looking at the scrapes on your palms again. “i’m fine.”

“yeah, yeah. i should’ve.” abby tosses a pastry towards you. “here, for your troubles, on the house. go sit down in the break room for a little bit, you look like a mess.”

“gonna ignore the last part. thanks, abs.”

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

“jesus fucking christ.” ellie mumbled to herself, hopping off her board before she opened the door to the small vinyl store she worked at.

“late again, williams— oh. oh wow. you look like shit.” austin, the owner of the shop spoke, nudging ellie as she walked by. he was wearing a stupid smirk on his face which made ellie more aggravated.

asshole.

“real nice.” ellie grumbled, putting up her skateboard and backpack. “sorry for being late, won’t happen again, i just— some people are so stupid, you know?”

“by ‘some people’ do you mean you?” he laughed, spinning on his chair. he mocked the way ellie spoke, doing a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like her.

god, he was a 30 year old man-child, but he pays her… so… whatever. she’ll deal.

“ha-ha. good one.”

“ya gonna tell me what happened or are ya gonna leave me guessin’?”

“what happened is people don’t know how to walk anymore.” she scoffed, taking stock of the money she had to count before putting it in the drawer. “so fucking stupid.”

“by the looks of it you don’t know how to walk anymore, either. you gonna be able to work? i’m not payin’ ya to sit around, so if i need to call someone else in…”

she glared at him, trying to see if he’d explode if she stared hard enough.

he was right though, unfortunately, ellie was walking like she had just learned how to. it wasn’t the worst injury she’s ever got from skateboarding, but it was definitely inconvenient.

“yeah, i’ll be fine.” ellie snapped, shifting her weight to her good foot to avoid making her injury any worse. “jesus christ, it’s a twisted ankle. i’m not missing a limb.”

“but—“

“drop it.”

he put his hands up in mock surrender, the smirk still on his face. “oooookay, okay. whatever you say williams. you were still late though, let’s go back to talkin’ about that. what’s the count at now? is this the fifth or sixth time this month?”

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. shit’s hard when you don’t have a car.” ellie sighed, punching in the numbers on her register. “i’ll do better. today was not my fault, though.”

“am i gonna have to be more strict with you? everyone else shows up on time, you know?”

“yeah, yeah. whatever.” ellie rolled her eyes, trying to focus on work and push the pain out of her mind. “everyone else has a car.”

ellie really did not like austin. his whole holier-than-thou attitude irked her to no end.

still, it beat being jobless, so she knew she shouldn’t complain.

“don’t let it happen again.”

“i won’t, i swear. i’m really sorry.”

“right, okay, i’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, you alright out here?”

she bit her tongue, holding back a groan.

austin ‘going to the bathroom’ was his way of saying that he’s gonna get really fucking stoned and then sit around and do nothing all day. this was a daily occurrence, at this rate.

“yeah, yeah, i’m good.” ellie mumbled, shoving away the annoyance she felt when he walked past her.

austin was a dickhead, but he was never outright mean, not really. he just… he thought he was better than everyone. a classic ego-centric prick.

as much as she hated him, she did like having a job— and being able to afford a place to sleep at night.

“ohhh, ellie, i gave you more shifts, like you asked.” he said before he walked out, smiling at her. “take a look at the schedule when ya get the chance.”

he has to be kidding.

she’s been begging for more shifts since god knows how long ago, and he decides to give her more now? when she doesn’t even know how she’s gonna be able to make it to work?

amazing. just what she wanted!

“great.” ellie muttered, shooting him a glare even though he was already gone. “more hours that i don’t know how the hell i’m gonna get to.”

she shook her head, austin wasn’t worth getting this pissed about— especially when he did try to do what she asked.

the store was never busy in the morning, so she sat in austins chair, finally taking a second to herself. she went over her options on how this was going to go.

she could have asked dina for a ride, if dina wasn’t off on some work trip about three hours away for the next two weeks, taking her and jesses shared car with her.

terrible timing.

she’d take public transportation if it was reliable and also if she didn’t have a few bad experiences with it already.

that wasn’t really a good option.

uber was definitely not an option. she already was going to have to buy new glasses and eventually pay for her phone to get fixed, she wasn’t about to drop $50 a day on ride.

she was screwed.

nothing was working out for her right now— the universe was laughing at her, just like it always did.

she wanted to kick and scream, but that wouldn’t help anything, plus she wouldn’t be able to kick very well right now.

oh well… she’d be fine, she’d just have to push through it.

her phone buzzed in her pocket and she winced when she seen the cracked screen again, it was so wrecked that it barely let her type in her password.

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

was ellie stupid for agreeing to go out of her way when she was already struggling to walk? yes.

does she care? no.

jesse was a good guy, he’s done a shit ton of favors for her, so this was the least she could do.

she’d never been to the bakery, but she always smelled it when she’d pass by, and it always looked like it’d be good. she did deserve a little treat after the day she had, anyways.

thank you jesse and jesse’s money.

when ellies shift is over, she feels so much worse than she did earlier, and austin repeating that ellie looked like shit over and over again wasn’t helping.

ugh.

“you’re a wreck, williams—“

“—goodbye austin, byeee. i’m leaving, out the door, shifts over. see you tomorrow.” she slammed the door shut, letting out a frustrated sigh as she got on her board again. “god. fuck off.”

the bakery wasn’t far, it was literally right across the street, but it felt like it was miles away to ellie. she leaned on the wall for a second to catch her breath before she walked inside.

it was a cute shop, one of those places you see on pinterest or instagram, with the led light signs and fake plants, it was actually really nice. she doesn’t know why she never came here before.

“let me know if i can help… oh god. it’s you.”

she looks over at you and she starts to wish the fall had just killed her on impact.

“please… pretend like this morning didn’t happen. i don’t want to deal with arguing right now.” ellie sighs, not giving you time to reply to her before she goes into saying her order.

she looked at your name tag as she paid, she could barely see what it said, her eyes squinting slightly as she tried to make out your name.

you scribbled little smiley faces and stars around your name, which was cuter than ellie would like to admit.

“go sit, i’ll bring your stuff to you after i box them, ‘kay?”

“i can wait here.“

“sit.”

“fine.”

she sat at one of the booths, attempting to use her phone without losing a finger. she wasn’t even paying attention to the content, just scrolling mindlessly as the memories of this morning replayed in her mind over and over again.

she was hoping to never see you again.

maybe coming here was a mistake.

“here.” you say after a few moments, placing the boxes on the table. “enjoy.”

you were being kind, but she could read behind the curtness of your tone.

you thought she was dumb. she could always tell by the way you talked to her; that look of disdain on your face.

“thanks.” she said, and then the silence took over again. it was obvious that neither of them wanted to start another conversation after the way the last one ended.

ellie couldn’t help but notice how just scraped up your hands were. you had bandages on them, but the blood that seeped through was bright red, like it was demanding to be looked at.

demanding ellie to feel bad for what she did.

damn it, she really should’ve just paid attention this morning.

would’ve saved her a lot of trouble.

she got up, sucking her teeth and hissing as she shifted her weight. she leaned on the table for balance as a few curse words left her mouth.

“god, you’re the dumbest person i’ve ever met.” you declared, confirming her suspicions.

she scoffed, trying to shake the pain away from her ankle.

man, this sucked.

“shut the hell up.” ellie snapped. “you don’t have to be so snarky, you know? i’m already dealing with the consequences of my shitty morning, you can drop the whole, ‘i’m better than you’ bullshit. if you listened earlier, you’d have known i said that i have no other choice.”

“i did listen, idiot. i don’t mean to sound like i’m trying to be better than you, okay? i’m sorry. but you seriously don’t have anyone that can help you out? do you have friends?”

“i have friends, asshole. they’re just either busy or i don’t want to inconvenience them. what’s it matter to you anyways?”

you don’t really have an answer, you’re not sure why it matters. maybe it’s because ellie looked really miserable, or maybe it’s because it had been partially your fault that she’s hurt… or maybe both. but you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt about the situation she was in.

“i have a car.”

ellie paused, looking up at you. she wasn’t sure if she heard you correctly, or if this was just some weird, shitty joke.

“okay? congratulations?”

“don’t make me spell it out.” you reply, annoyance clear in your tone. “i’m saying, you’re obviously hurt, and it’s kinda my fault, so… if you needed a ride…”

“no.”

“don’t be stubborn. look, i get it, we’re not on the best terms right now, but i can’t just let you go like this without at least offering, y’know? plus, you seem like you could use the help.”

ellie’s mind was screaming at her to accept— it was logical. you offered a ride, she needs a ride, she should accept your offer.

“i could be a serial killer for all you know. you don’t even know my name.”

“yeah, okay. you? a serial killer? i’d just run away. not like you’d be able to chase after me.”

“hey, i can run pretty damn fast, you know?” ellie hissed. if she wanted, she could definitely chase you down… but she’d rather not do that at the moment. that was probably not a great idea. “hell, i could be an axe murderer.”

“what’s your name?”

“huh?”

“are you dumb?”

“…it’s ellie.”

“‘kay, ellie, now i know your name and if you’re observant— which i doubt but i’m gonna play devils advocate— you know mine. nice to meet you. now we know each other. i’m not gonna sit here and play 21 questions, do you want me to take you to your place or not?”

“what if you kill me anyways?” she asked, she was kidding, she just wanted to piss you off.

“i am not gonna fucking— you know what, you’re annoying. never mind.”

“wait. i’m sorry.”

fuck.

maybe this whole thing about you wasn’t so bad. you were just— abrasive.

she swallowed, forcing herself to stay calm. “i’ll take a ride.”

“what’s the magic word?”

“die.” ellie hissed. “you’re not funny.”

“almost! that’s four words. do you want a hint?”

ellie stared at you blankly for a few seconds before answering. “i am not saying please.”

“you just said it.” you grinned. “look, i get off at 6:30, that’s like… 20 minutes from now, if you don’t mind waiting. i’ll come get you when i’m off, sound good?”

“yeah. that sounds good.”

this is such a bad idea.

[808len808]

Breaking point

!Pupppy Leon S. Kennedy x Gender Neutral Reader!

Summery: Your poor pup was to scared to tell you that he's going into heat.

Authers note: I don't know what this is, I wrote half of it while I was drunk and the rest I wrote in the span of a month so the first part of the story is a bit messy, but I promise it gets better. !Disclaimer: by puppy Leon I mean a hybrid, I do not support zoophilia!

!Warnings!: Nsfw themes, "Reader" can be all genders.

(Words: 4,405)

(sorry if it's cringe 😭)

The summer had ended, well at least the vacation. it was the most awesome vacation of Leon’s life! You were home every single day, he went where you went day in and day out. To the park, lake, and forest, but also at home. He got all the attention. But now you had to leave for work again for 5 days a week from 9 to 5 and he was stuck at home, waiting for his precious owner to come back.

He spent most of his time just lying down in spaces where your scent was strongest, couch, bedroom, those spots. Usually, he’d stay on the couch sleeping or thinking about you, how you would greet him with a smile when you came back, how you would pet that special spot between his ears, his tail already started wiggling at the thought of it. 

Fuck, this was too hard. He looked at the clock; only 3 more hours, but for him it felt like years, mostly because he couldn’t sleep anymore, and because he really had to go out for a walk. 

He got up from the couch and went to the kitchen to see if you had accidentally left any food for him to grab, but unfortunately nothing, he could try to stand up and grab something from inside the cabinets, but then he would feel bad for disobeying you, then he wouldn’t be a good boy.

Ever since the summer vacation, he felt the need to be around you so much stronger, he felt the need to be with you at all times, to receive praise, to be held, to be cradled, and most importantly to please you. 

His ears perked up, suddenly feeling something in his stomach, it was weird, he went over to your bedroom your scent only growing stronger just like the feeling on his stomach. When you first adopted him you didn’t let him into your bedroom at all hoping to make a clear line between owner and pet but along the summer that line started to fade. The few nights he would spend the night curled up against you on your bed were the best.

He felt incredibly proud even thinking back to one of those nights, just sleeping next to you, your fingers going through his hair until he fell asleep. 

A huff grasped through his nose whiffing up your scent, his nose going up in the air. A small shiver went down his spine as he continued sniffing, trying to pinpoint the strongest scent, it was a whole different scent that he smelled, it reminded him of sweat but different much nicer, much more attractive, like it was pulling him towards itself. 

He followed his nose eagerly, coming to the bathroom connected to your room, he stopped in his tracks. He’s never been in your bathroom. He stared at the scary door gulping, he still had plenty of time before you would arrive home, but he already felt bad contemplating breaking your rules, well you never specifically said he couldn’t go in there… the times he tried, you had told him to wait outside or wait in the living room because you were having “alone time” whatever that meant. 

But now he was alone, he took one glance behind him, checking if you hadn’t suddenly come back. Luckily you didn’t, so he went in gently opening the door. It was just a regular bathroom, shower, toilet, sink with a mirror, so where did the scent come from?

Leon’s eyes scanned the room until he spotted the hamper, placed in the corner. He quickly hopped his way over, looking to claim his price. He stuck his nose in the pile of clothes in the hamper, all yours and a few of his garments. 

He never used to wear clothes, it wasn’t normal for hybrids to do, but since he was more on the human side -the only dog thing about him being his tail, ears, and senses, having human parts, and being able to do human things, he could walk and talk but it was just a harder to do so, he preferred not to but ever since he got off the streets, and adopted you learned him to do so,  also made him wear clothes. He still preferred to be shirtless so he would crawl his way out of them every chance he got.-

anywayyyy back to the story.

His hands mixed in throwing things away until he found the source, one pair of underwear more specifically your underwear. He happily took it in his mouth without a single thought. Proud to have found what he was searching for he went back to his crate, taking the used garment in his hands as he laid on his soft mat sniffing it until he dared to lick. An intense feeling sent shocks through his body, he felt something beneath him twitch. He didn’t register what happened. A breathy huff escaped his lips, but it sounded more like a whine. Hot flashed his face, taking another lick just to test if it would happen again, it did. 

His belly tingled a small sense of excitement filled his mind, he continued to lap only making the ominous feeling between his legs grow nose buried in the piece of clothing, curled up in his bench. 

He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep when you came back, he excitedly sprung up, tail wagging behind as you turned the key into the lock greeted by Leon’s big blues you closed the door behind you before getting down to pet him, he eagerly leaned in your touch small puffs leaving his nose as you pet his head to the place between his ears back to under his soft jawline. 

“I missed you so much!” Leon excitedly told you almost panting. 

He looked so excited you felt bad stopping now, you walked over to the couch, Leon almost blocking your way by circling around your legs. “Come here,” you giggled as you invited Leon to the space next to you on the couch. You didn’t have to tell him twice, he immediately jumped to the spot landing half on you in an over-enthusiastic way, he pushed one hand on your thigh encouraging you to continue petting him, which you gladly did.

“I was sooo lonely, I missed you so much, it’s so boring without you! I’m so so happy you’re back!” Leon rapidly bladdered making you chuckle a bit, he was always so energetic which could be tiring but you didn’t mind right now, it was actually kind of nice to have someone who was always excited to see you. 

Minutes passed, and he was still pressed against you talking your ear off with things he had thought of today, your petting eventually slowed into soft strokes, Leon’s tail slowed down as he ran out of things to say a big content smile on his face his ears were back eyes closed almost purring into your touch. So relaxed. 

It was all your normal routine until you spotted something particular, your underwear, in Leon’s crate. Your brows furrowed looking back to the innocent puppy next to you. After a bit of thinking and mostly contemplating what to do about it you got up from the soft cushions. Leon perked up confused at the loss of touch. He saw you walk over to his crate crouching down to examine your piece of clothing like it was a crime scene. 

“Leon? What’s this?” you asked looking over your shoulders to meet his worried eyes. He knew that look, and immediately he was stressed, Oh no did he do something bad? He really didn’t want to be a bad boy! What did he do?!

Leon tilted his head in shame not wanting to respond. Not knowing what to say, scared he would make it worse.

“Come over here,” you ordered, your voice rather sweet than commanding, hoping to not worsen Leon’s nervousness any further He hopped off the couch and did a small walk of shame to the crate, tail tucked between his legs, next to where you were crouched he sat down, trying to prove that he was still a good boy. 

“Well?” you started to get impatient. The scared dog avoided your eyes, going back to the now wet underwear. “I-… I just missed your scent…” Leon pleaded, looking up to you trying to win you over with his sad puppy eyes. You narrowed your eyes thinking of a way to teach your pup that this wasn’t okay, but you just couldn’t find it in you to punish him, until he spoke up again. 

“I just- it tasted so…good” Leon explained further as if it would help him, it didn’t, in fact, it did the opposite.

The gears inside of your head finally spun. Your scent, he wanted all your attention, the way he pawed at you all the time, this wasn’t a pet owner situation, he was attracted to you. 

You gulped deeply staring into Leon’s eyes, nothing but innocence and worry, the poor thing probably didn’t even know what he was feeling. Your lips pressed together into a thin line, you needed to stop this before it got out of hand even when you felt bad doing it. 

You picked your undies up, moving to stand up. Leon stayed down his eyes following your every move. “Leon,” you started putting away your feelings, you needed to set boundaries, you needed to be responsible here. “You can’t pick up my clothes, those are mine, not yours.” He looked down at his hands, anxiety spreading over his face, but you weren’t done yet he needed to learn there were consequences to his actions.

“I also do not want you to go into my room or the bathroom while I’m not home.” He absently nodded seeming like he was at the brink of tears for being called out alone. “Now I know you hate this, but you need to learn that there’s consequences to your actions.” His head shot up, panic in his eyes as you strictly pierced his eyes with yours. “no-no-please,-I’ll be good-I’ll never do it again-please,” he tried but you didn’t budge you stood your ground while pointing at his cage, Leon already knew what was coming to a terrified look on his face -god he is so dramatic- as you pointed to his crate. 

“No-no-no!”He franticly shook his head. “please, I don’t wanna go!” He pawed at your ankles pleading. You stood your ground. “Leon,” you warned, he knew he was only making it worse by begging but he really, really didn’t want to go on the crate. “Please-I’m sorry- I’m really-sorry- please!” He looked at you from where he was sitting his bottom lip trembling as he felt his eyes start to water.

“I’m not going in! I can’t- you can’t make me!” He raised his voice, which made you glare down at him. Immediately his ears went down as he felt himself cripple under your glare. 

“Bad. Boy. Go in your cage.” Tears started to fall you felt guilty for hurting your precious pup, especially about making him cry, but you didn’t let it show, you stayed cold and emotionless. He let out a small whimper as he obliged, unable to deny your order, he looked back almost betrayed, like he hadn’t had this coming. 

“It’s just for the night,” you said as you closed the bench trapping Leon in the iron bars, a soft mat, and a blanket on the ground (because you are not a monster) his fingers clamped around the bars. You left, you had eaten out, so you didn’t have any more business in the living room. You made your way back to your bedroom, throwing the clothes Leon had spread across the bathroom back into the hamper, throwing away your underwear later. 

So there he was, he had been so excited to be around you all day, and he actually could do that right now, be curled up against you snuggling but no, instead he was trapped in this cage, this prison the restraint that kept him from going to you. He sighed feeling betrayed in some way. He didn’t understand what he had done wrong, of course, he knew that picking your clothes was wrong, but getting punished for it, that’s a bit too much.

You never punished Leon ever, so this was really strange. Leon was confused but mostly felt bad, so very bad for making you disappointed in him. He curled up on the crate hugging the blanket in sorrow pretending that it was you as the last lights went out. 

-

The morning came agonizingly slow for Leon, the lack of sleep making him hump up as you entered the room, he sat up tail already swooshing side to side regardless of his exhaustion. You walked in your pajamas to his bench Leon’s fingers grasping the metal begging for his release. 

You kneeled down to his level, right in front of him. “Are you going to be a good boy?” you asked tilting your head in a questioning way, he nodded as fast as possible. “Talk,” you demanded. “Yes, yes I’ll be good,” he begged, half shaking the bars, you complied unlocking his “prison”. 

He almost jumped onto you making you sit back down on the ground. “I’m so sorry- it will never happen again, I promise, I promise,” he repeated over and over again as he tried to get you to hug him, you let out a breath chuckle and complied, “It’s okay sweetheart.” You pet his head to which he smiled even more leaning in your touch as he always did. 

And there it was again, that funny feeling in his stomach. At first, he thought it was just hunger, but the more you pet him the more he wanted to stay closer to you, press against you. The arousal pooling in his stomach stayed even when you pulled away, even when you fed him, even when you went out for a walk, and even when you left for work again. 

Leon was left alone with that unfamiliar feeling in his stomach leaving him to do the figuring out, Leon lay on his signature place on the couch. You had bought him a book for him to read. A simple book, just to help Leon fit in with the human side of him, also forcing him to walk upright on his feet when in public, he found it hard and tiring but he wasn’t about to disappoint you, not after he already did. 

So maybe that was why he was picking up the book, and starting to try and read it. It was easy enough. As time passed the feeling in his stomach tightened, like his organs were tormenting him. It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, more like a neediness for something, only he didn’t know what. 

It came to the point where he couldn’t focus on the words anymore, his problem shadowed all his thoughts and made sure it was impossible for the poor pup to think straight. The only thing he noticed was that his pants felt small, smaller than usual, even when he had gotten used to them by now, they suddenly felt too small.

Leon frowned putting the book down to finally try and do something about his problem, he looked down to check if he could see anything from the outside. His face lit up as if he had just opened the previously used oven, and slapped the heat in his face, down his body making his skin tingle.

His hands followed the skin of his stomach expecting to find some kind of bruise or lump, but nothing only hot skin. His hand found its way to his pants to see if he could feel anything there. He let out an embarrassingly loud whine as he felt the bulge tenting his pants. His eyes dared to look down, only gasping at the sight, his hands weren’t betraying him, there really was a huge bulge. 

Contemplating what to do he experimentally cupped it with his hand through his pants, a whine even louder ran over his tongue, so hard that he swore he could hear it echoing through the walls.

But it felt good, it felt sensitive, but in a good way, in a very very good way, he has to feel it again. He slightly squeezed the bulge making his stomach turn in a way that felt so satisfying he couldn’t help but double over. 

Leon could feel his body trembling not used to these sensations at all, but he couldn’t stop, he started to create a small friction for himself, trying to satisfy this overwhelming need he suddenly felt. 

His hips involuntarily jerked up in his hand making his crotch throb as a whine left his mouth, his eyes closing in concentration trying to find whatever he needed, but it was hard to think, he felt so powerless, so desperate for something, but what was that something? 

Leon’s hand slightly sped up making him pant. His whole body felt on fire, so hot, he felt the need to take his suffocating clothes off but was too overwhelmed to do so. 

He kept going his legs trembling hands shaking sweat making everything stick together, but it still wasn’t enough, Leon didn’t understand, he never felt this, and frankly, he didn’t understand one bit of it. 

Eventually, his member felt like it was going numb. Leon desperately kept going even when it was starting to hurt, but to no avail, it just wasn’t enough. His hand stopped and so did the friction, his thoughts coming back to him together with a worried feeling, what even was that? What happened? He was left feeling guilty somehow like he did something shameful even when it felt so good. Was it bad? Was Leon doing something bad? 

He started to feel stressed, it feels bad now… and he really didn’t want to disobey you again especially when he was already put in the crate yesterday. Just then the lock turned, Leon’s ears perked up he hadn’t even smelled you, his arousal taking up all the scent in the room. 

Leon quickly jumped off the couch tail turning into a blur by how hard it was wagging. He was more excited than ever to see you. He whined a bit as he struggled to walk over to the door, the now painful bulge rubbing against his pants, he needed to get them off but that was not the priority right now. The priority was you.

You opened your front door, Leon’s face immediately greeting you, you always loved to come home to him, and his sweet smile, it grew only brighter as he saw you. (2 meninges 😧😏) 

“Hi! how’s your day?” Leon immediately spoke as you walked in hanging your coat up and sighing not noticing Leon’s state.

“It was fine” you shrugged putting away your shoes and patting Leon’s head. “How about you, have you been a good boy?” You said grinning as Leon grew red. “Mhm, I’ve been good all day,” Leon answered only it was a lie, a lie because he wasn’t a good boy. He did something new and it felt bad so so bad and he was scared to tell you. What if you’ll put him in his cage again? He’d rather lie than be imprisoned again. 

You walked over to the kitchen picking out food from the cabinets. “Yeah? What you do all day pup?” Leon followed you into the kitchen looking at the ingredients you put on the marble countertop. 

Leon thought his tail still rapidly swinging behind him. “I read like you told me to.” Leon smiled sheepishly at you ignoring the pain he was feeling downstairs. He could ignore it, he would ignore it for you. 

But eventually, you break, eventually, you burst, as any normal person does. A pup can’t hold something that big from you, and hide his pain…

His breaking point came at midnight. 

He was happily cuddled by you, he adored being small spoon. Until he woke up, drenched in sweat, panting, every piece of skin sticking to something. Leon groaned the world coming to him as he awoke his eyes and mouth dry. Waves of pain hit him from his crotch through his legs, a small whine escaped as he looked down, it was still the same, it was a wonder you hadn’t noticed yet. 

Leon’s whole body was in a state of fight or flight his senses heightened. He couldn’t take this anymore. He whined again as he stood up, legs trembling under his weight as he made it to the bathroom. He felt like throwing up. He struggled to grab a hold of the sink hoping for some stability but the cold on his sweaty hand only made him hiss. 

He was hot and cold at the same time, was it some kind of fiver? No this was different much different. Another wave of heat surged through Leon’s body his face red his lungs having trouble keeping up with his heavy breathing. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, his eyes caught glimpses down his body but none registered. With whines still leaving him he clawed at his clothes trying to wiggle his way out of them. The pants dropped to the tiles and so did his shirt everything was off but still he was as hot as one can be.

It was all too much and what was worse was that he didn’t even know what was going on. At this point Leon didn’t care if he got sent to his cage he just wanted the pain to stop nothing else mattered. 

He shook as he stumbled back into the bedroom. “Leon?” You asked just woken up as well, squinting your eyes to make out your pup’s features. His breath and his whimpers together with Leon not responding got you worried. “Leon, are you okay?”

“Please,” he whined collapsing next to you on the bed. “Please what? What’s going on?” Your voice continued to grow more and more worried. You turned and switched the light on, and there he was in full light his chest heaving up and down sweat dripping down his face, his ears flat on his head. His eyes closed tight his eyebrow furrowing into a painful look. 

With one glance down everything became clear. “Oh, baby,” you muttered softly. He was going in heat. “What’s wrong with me?” Leon choked out. “Nothing sweetheart, nothing at all,” you reassured brushing strands of hair that stuck to his face away. 

“I’m going to help you okay?” Leon nodded frantically in response tears brimming his eyes as tears slowly fell down his face, landing on the pillow, your sweet pup, he must be in so much pain for so long, poor thing was suffering in silence all this time and you hardly noticed. 

He was squirming waiting for you to do something, to do anything, anything to make the pounding in his head go away. His consciousness almost faded when you scratched behind his ears making his tail wag despite the pain he was in. It thumps against the white covers beneath him with it forming a small smile on your face.

“You’ll be fine sweetheart, I’ll take care of you,” you cooed softly multitasking as you moved your hand down his sticky body going gently over all his shapes and moles, going over the small trail of hair leading to the source of his problem. His hips jerked up a few times as you did. 

His cute little cock stood high and proud, pearly beads leaping down his length it was a beautiful sight. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve admired your pet for hours like this but this was a case with urgency and there was no time to spare.

Leon’s eyes shot open when you wrapped your hand around his base, a hand flying up to your shirt to take a handful of the soft fabric. “Wh-what?” He looked up at you with big eyes then back to the scene, blinking. Before he could do or say anything else you stroked up and down again. Leon quickly deflated, eyes rolling back as his head fell back into the pillow. Whines and whimpers fell from his mouth as you continued.

You started off slow so he could catch up with you twisting your wrists a few times and pulling utteral moans of pleasure from him. His plump lips kept parted eyes half-lidded going down and up with the movement of your hand and then to your own eyes. He strictly held on to your shirt as if his life depended on it his grip only growing stronger with every stroke of your hand. 

“Hmm-s’good-please-nhgh,” incoherent mumbles escaped his lips it was adorable. His pitch went up only higher and higher to a point that you almost couldn’t recognize the vulnerable voice of your pup. 

You sped up, his hips struggling to keep up with your pace, his eyelids scrunched together, you grabbed the hand holding your shirt and wrapped it in yours intertwining your hands while the other was cramping on Leon’s puppy dick. His tail was rapidly moving the sheets his ears perked up straight into the air. 

“Ah-wait-!” You didn’t react or wait instead you did the opposite only going faster. Leon let out a gut-wrenching moan his voice cracking into a whimper multiple times as he came white sputtered all over his stomach, continuing to drip down the white sheets as more continued to flow and coat your hand with sticky white ropes.

You slowly stopped, leaving his cock flat, Leon hesitantly opened one eye before the other a sit he was scared but he only saw your sweet smile. Before he could open his other eye you had your clean hand which was previously holding his, in Leon’s hair. “Good job Leon” you comfort his ears immediately twitching as you did. 

A cheeky smile was returned his cute bright eyes staring at you with excitement. “I did good?” He sat up slightly, the bed dipping in weight as he did. “Yeah, you did amazing sweetheart.” You cupped his cheek he sighed and closed his eyes, his body turning soft in your touch. 

[milkloafy]

TOO LATE TO BE YOUR FIRST LOVE, BUT I’LL ALWAYS BE YOUR FAVORITE — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: megumi has known you since childhood as his sister’s annoying friend. now, years later, he sees you at a nice restaurant and wonders why you’re all alone. ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: fem!reader, fluff, aged up au, gojo is…here xD, bsf brother / sister’s bsf au, reader wears a dress, megumi checks reader out, reader gets stood up by her ex womp womp… ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.9k+ ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: first jjk fic and i’m starting it off with a banger cliche ! i can’t help it okay megumi’s sister is soooo pretty pls by my bsf in another life :3 also ik this title is so long i literally could not think of anything so i was like okay yeah sure let’s listen to miss sabrina carpenter and then bam! here we go i guess! 

“Be good to my kouhai, okay Megumi-chan?”

Those were the words that rung through his head as he saw you sitting at a table for two, alone and dolled up in a nice dress with pearls around your neck. 

Megumi didn’t claim to be an expert in your life or personal preferences, but from what he did know of you, you weren’t exactly the type to take yourself out on a date all alone. It drew too much unwanted attention towards you that you likely did not want to deal with.

That was something he certainly resonated with.

After watching you pick up your glass of water and put it down five times all in the span of one minute, he almost felt bad enough for you to head over there and take you out of your misery. Unfortunately, an aggravating voice beside him reminded Megumi why he was in this fancy restaurant in the first place.

“Isn’t that right, Megumi-kun?” 

“Huh?” he asked, turning his attention back to his own table. 

Gojo was leaning forward on the table with a smug look on his face, a look that Megumi learned was never good. Although Gojo had shades on blocking his gaze, Megumi sensed Gojo was looking directly at you.

“I said she’s pretty, isn’t she?” 

Megumi glared at the white-haired pervert with an irritated look on his face. “She’s not for you, old man.” 

Gojo laughed as he held his arms up innocently. “I meant for you. You’ve been staring at her for a while now. It’s kinda creepy, actually.” 

“That’s Tsumiki’s friend,” said Megumi, choosing to ignore Gojo’s comment. “One of her closest. Not sure why she’s here by herself. I just want to make sure she’s not in any kind of trouble.” 

“Well, let’s examine the evidence,” Gojo declared, clearing his throat before counting his fingers on one hand. “One, her hair and makeup are done real nice. Two, she’s in a fancy dress. Three, she’s been giving that glass of water a death glare for the past few minutes.”

Megumi raised his brow, unamused. “Okay. And?”

“Your sister's friend over there has just been stood up,” concluded Gojo, leaning against the back of his chair in satisfaction. “Now, if you’re going to do something about it, I suggest you do it before Yuuji and Nobara get here.” 

“Why?”

“Do you have to ask? The moment they arrive they’ll follow along behind you and see what you’re doing,” cautioned Gojo, as if he wouldn’t join them in an instant. 

Megumi made a face at the thought, but he knew Gojo was right. Itadori and Kugisaki would stick their noses into any and everything that involved him and would somehow find a way to embarrass him yet again. 

Standing up, Megumi sighed. “How long do I have?”

“I told them the reservation was for ten minutes ago. So you should have at least twenty minutes now.” 

“Thanks,” Megumi grumbled, heading over to your table with an awkward expression on his face. He hoped this wouldn’t embarrass you further, but he could deal with your potential attitude as long as it brought you some comfort. 

Though you may be annoying at times with how often you teased him and called him girly nicknames he hated, you were still his sister’s best friend. Helping you save face seemed like the good thing to his sister would want him to do. 

“Hey.” 

Startled, you looked up from your phone and saw Megumi standing next to your table, his arms folded across his chest. 

The moment you met his gaze, your eyes brightened and you waved at him.

“Gumi-chan!” you sang as a greeting, voice too loud for the formal ambiance of the restaurant.

“Shh! Are you crazy?” hissed Megumi, looking around frantically to make sure Gojo did not overhear you calling him that. However, judging by the shit-eating grin on Gojo’s face, Megumi knew Gojo heard and would never let Megumi live this down. 

You giggled at his embarrassment.

Megumi huffed. Shouldn’t you be the embarrassed one here? 

“Long time no see,” you said, motioning for him to sit across from you in the opposite seat. “What’s little Megumi doing at a fancy place like this?” You paused, gasping in surprise from a story you totally just made up about his situation, he assumed. “Don’t tell me you’re here on a date! I have to text Tsumiki! They grow up so fast…”

“I’m the same age as you,” he mumbled. 

You reached over and pinched his cheek. Megumi swatted your hand away. “You sure act younger, though!”

“Shut up.”

Megumi sighed, wondering why he wanted to comfort you in the first place. You seemed just fine to him. 

“I’m not here on a date,” he finally replied, hoping you hadn’t yet sent his sister any incriminating texts about his non-existent date. “Gojo-sensei is treating some of his students out for a graduation dinner.” 

“Aww! Graduation, already?” you cooed, as if you didn’t also just graduate university this year. “They really do grow up so fast!”

“You can stop talking now.” 

You laughed, knowing better than to take his grumpy words too seriously. Megumi was glad he didn’t have to explain that side of himself to you.

“What about you?”

“Me?” you parroted.

“Are you here on a date?”

You slowly brought up your glass of water to you and nodded. “Supposed to be…”

“You’re dating someone new already?” asked Megumi, thinking about the annoying ex-boyfriend of yours you finally broke up with a few months ago. 

Hesitantly, you shook your head, toying with the pearl beads on your necklace. “Not exactly…”

He raised a brow, waiting for you to stop being so vague. 

“He’s not someone new,” you mumbled, your voice clouded with embarrassment. 

“He’s not new?”

“Oh, Gumi! Are you really going to make me say it?” you cried, puffing your cheeks in indignation. “My ex, alright? I was supposed to be on a date with my ex right now. And he stood me up!”

Megumi blinked, his mind jumping through hoops to piece together what you were implying. “Let me get this straight.”

You made a defeated noise of agreement. 

“You broke up with your ex, he groveled and begged for your forgiveness, you agreed to go on a date with him for god knows why, and he still stood you up. And now you’re here, sad and alone.” 

You groaned, covering your own ears. “It sounds even more pathetic when you say it out loud. God. I’m so pathetic, Gumi.”

“Hey,” said Megumi gruffly. “What would Tsumiki do if she heard you say that just now? You’re not pathetic. Your ex is the pathetic one.” 

“You’re right,” you sniffled, nodding at his word. “But I still can’t help but feel that way, though.”

For the first time tonight, he saw a dejected expression cross your face. It always unsettled him to see you unhappy.

“He’s dumb for standing you up.” Megumi rubbed the back of his neck, looking away uncomfortably. “Listen, you deserve someone better than him, okay?”

“Someone like you?” you teased with the start of a grin forming on your face.

Megumi rolled his eyes in annoyance, but deep down, he was glad to see your smile return. 

“Eh? Who said you would deserve someone like me?” he retorted.

You giggled, putting your hand over your heart dramatically. “Ouch! You wound me, Gumi.”

He shrugged. 

“And here I thought you would feel bad enough for me to finally give me a chance,” you proclaimed with an exaggerated sigh.

“Shut up.”

His short words didn’t disguise the heat from spreading across his cheeks to the tips of his ears. You always toyed with him like that… There was no way you actually meant it, he told himself.

“Hey,” he said, about to suggest something he might later regret. “Instead of sitting here alone, do you want to join me?”

Your eyes widened at his invitation and his ears turned an even darker shade of pink.

“Not alone! There’ll be others there,” he said hastily. “For the graduation dinner, remember? But they won’t mind.”

You tapped your index finger to your chin a few times, as if thinking hard, before agreeing easily. “Sure! Beats being alone. And, just for the record, I would have said yes even if it was just us two.”

Megumi scowled. His poor face wasn’t able to catch a break from all the annoying heat rushing to it. “Let’s go, then.”

As you stood, you smoothed your dress down and adjusted the length so you wouldn’t accidentally flash your ass to those seated behind you. Immediately, Megumi found his gaze wandering to where the hem of your dress hugged your soft thighs. His throat grew dry. 

When he managed to tear his gaze away from your body and back to your face, he noticed you looking at him always expectantly, as if waiting for him to explain why the hell he was checking you out for so long.

Megumi cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn’t sound too strained. “It’s a good thing you were stood up, you know?”

“Huh?” you asked in confusion.

“Your ex doesn’t deserve to see how you look in that dress anyway.”

“Oh,” you managed to say, averting your gaze as a bashful look took over your face. This was the first time in ages that Megumi has seen you look like this.

He smiled to himself, savoring the sweet look of shyness on your face. Typically, you were the one teasing him, much to his annoyance. It was nice to get some payback sometimes.

“Thank you, Gumi,” you murmured, fingers toying with the hem on your dress, only making it rise up higher on your thighs. 

“Just the truth,” he said with forced nonchalance.

As the two of you approached the table, the contentment Megumi felt was instantly doused when he saw Gojo, Itadori, and Kugisaki all ogling at you with their mouths wide open.

“Oh ho ho! Is this a friend of yours, Megumi-kun?”

“Hey, I’m Itadori!” 

“Run while you can! You’re too pretty for him, got it?” 

You waved at the table, somehow not scared away by their obnoxiousness. “Hi! And yes, his sister tells me that all the time!” You looked over at Megumi and winked. “But I think he’s just as pretty.”

Megumi groaned as he sat down in an empty seat, putting his head in his hands in exasperation as he heard everyone laughing together. He was already regretting introducing you to his idiot friends. 

But as you took a seat next to him, he peered at you through a crack between his fingers, and he couldn’t help but feel pleased at the joyful expression on your face. If it was up to him, that’s the only way you would look.

Along with your shy expression, of course. Megumi would pay to see that again as well. 

You met his eyes through the sliver of space between his fingers and grinned at him. His found his worries fading away. 

Megumi sighed to himself. Maybe he should thank your scumbag ex for standing you up, after all. Turns out he quite liked your company. Maybe even as more than just his sister’s annoying friend.

As if you were able to read his mind, you blew him a kiss from the seat beside him and his face reddened once more.

Gojo whooped and hollered at the interaction and Megumi felt himself sinking further and further into his seat.

Never mind, he told himself. You were still the pain in his ass that would never go away.

But maybe Megumi didn't want it to.

[freyito]

ɢᴏᴛᴛᴀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴʏᴛɪᴍᴇ

✭ pairing(s): calcharo x gn reader

✩ inspo: I'd Have You Anytime by George Harrison

★ summary: You decide your boyfriend is being too moody.

✧ a/n: I WANNA SAY THANK YOU ALL FOR SUCH THE KIND WORDS AUGHHH I'VE BEEN KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY TwT... i've got some little event cookin up for 700 followers, don't you worry...

BUT ANYWAYS i've been chipping away at wuthering waves... it's pretty fun !! kuro games also just make banger. games. so... the character designs are sooo yummmyyyy and of course i had to write a little fic for my (second) favorite... sephir-- i mean calcharo.

🗒 cw: gn reader, short n sweet, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 781

Calcharo’s not necessarily the most affectionate boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. You are the stars that pepper the sky, the calm and wholeness of a stream running within a foggy forest, the night that beckons him into comforting arms. You are his everything. And he is, unfortunately, not the best at expressing that. But he is loyal.

He tends to hide within himself, too spun up in his own thoughts to pay more attention to the world. Not that he isn’t hyper-aware of his surroundings, he has to stay alert, after all. But he tends to stress himself out quite a bit like this, worried about the Ghost Hounds, those he had sworn to protect, and so forth. It seems the only time those worries fade away is when he’s in your arms. You’ve started to notice a slight slump in his shoulders, how his face relaxes into more of a neutral expression rather than a frown, and even how his voice sounds a tad… lighter.

Today, he is rather moody, choosing to brood and pace around the house, worrying about menial things. The pacing is a little annoying, but every time he lets out a sigh or a frustrated grumble, you can’t help but feel your heart twist. There isn’t much you can do, you know that, and the man will always have his worries. It is human nature to worry, and perhaps Calcharo is more human than he likes to think.

He opens his mouth to protest again, perhaps question you as to why you’re so determined, but you shut him up real quick, cupping his cheek and pressing a quite tender kiss to his lips. That shuts his mind up quick, you can tell by the way his stern demeanor melts away, returning the kiss after a couple seconds.

When you break apart, his eyes have softened, and his body relaxes once more. He lets out a soft sigh as if this is what he had been waiting for all along. You aren’t quite satisfied with your work, though. It’s been too long since you’ve had time with Calcharo in general, so why not revel in it?

You press a kiss to his nose bridge first, lips lingering for a second longer before pressing another to his cheek, then his forehead, then wherever you can kiss him. He doesn’t move or complain or push you away, simply closes his eyes and lets a soft blush dust his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It’s such a rare sight to see this man blush, and the fact that he isn’t doing whatever he can to hide it from you is impressive.

You continue your torrent of kisses, leaving no span of skin unkissed, untouched. He lets out a low rumbling sound and a scoff, which is close enough to a laugh you can get it, and you don’t mind. Not one bit. He has no idea what to do with his hands for the next minute or so, placing them on your hips at first but then ghosts over your ribs. For once he feels… awkward. He’s barely used to you making advances, not that he necessarily leaves room for them. Given his reserved nature, he had done most of the leading in the relationship. You thought it would’ve been best to go at his pace, after all. But he had never felt awkward during these years with you.

You finally stop kissing him, pulling away to look down at him. He’s still blushing, hair just a little more disheveled than usual, and the possibility of a smile tugging at his lips. A rare sight indeed, you oughta pat yourself on the back for doing that to him.

“Too much?” You ask, your voice cracking with mirth as your hands settle on his shoulders.

“... Not enough.” Calcharo responds bluntly, despite the slight wavering tone in his voice.

The man finally understands what to do with his hands, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you down on top of him. You are practically nose-to-nose with him, and can’t help but giggle, which he responds in kind with a soft huff.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[raitonsfw]

Hello thank you so much you are the first person to answer my request and I just lovedddddd it .

Another request with gojo where they are married for like 2 months and things are kind of stiff cause it is arranged marriage but then one day he sees that a group are guys ate harassing his wife everyday as she takes the train . He asked her why she did not tell him about it and all and she says cause she thought he might even listen and stuff and things get spicy and it's his wife's first ever relationship.

I know this is big if you don't like it ignore it .

Thank you

𝚠𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚍 | 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞

synopsis: Gojo wasn’t the best husband and you weren’t the best wife, the discomfort of the arranged marriage taking a toll on the both of you. Two months in and he hasn’t even held your hand, let alone made a move on you– something you so desperately craved. It wasn’t until he saw two men shove you against the wall on the train that his natural husband instincts kicked in, the men dangling by their collars over the speeding blurry tracks. All he wanted to do now was protect you, shield you from the cruel world with a blindfold of your own, and maybe dry your tears with the comfort of his dick.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, virgin!reader, wife!reader, husband!gojo, arranged marriage, clan mentions, cursing (a lot of it oops), angst, yearning, emotions (a lot of emotions), crying, hurt/comfort, insecurity (marriage wise), gojo basically ignores reader for the first two months (not for reasons you think though), quiet arguments, first time, cunnilingus, blowjob, cum swallowing, fingering, p in v intercourse, dirty talk, he’s rough in the beginning cuz he’s selfish, creampie, aftercare, slight mention of future children (just a sentence or two), petnames (sweetheart, honey, baby).

trigger warnings: harassment; reader is cornered constantly by two men on a train. some instances of harassment include yanking the readers arm to get their attention, reader getting burned by a cigarette after trying to fight back, & reader being pushed up against the wall with ill intent.

a/n: imagine him in (this) cuz holy shit, i love this outfit on him. i got extremely carried away IM SO SORRY. haha also gojo says something incredibly corny during sexy time and i was going to change it but it made me laugh too hard just imagining him saying it so i kept it. i don’t think ive ever written this much in one sitting in my entire life. wc: 8k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

Two months. 

Two months you’ve endured this situation, your body basically as stiff as a board as you shared a bed with one of the most respected clan members in Tokyo. Ever since you said yes to that question, that damned question you thought you never would’ve heard in this standing– ‘Do you take Gojo Satoru to be your lawfully wedded husband?’ Your whole world fell apart. After all, it was an arranged marriage and you did not know this man in the slightest. All you knew was his power, told to you by your clan specifically and what he had accomplished over the span of twenty-something years. 

It wasn’t meant to be like this, the distance that scraped the surface of your marriage. Gojo should’ve warmed up to you by now, as well as vice versa, but there was still a wall built between the two of you. 

You didn’t really know the aspects of a relationship either as you’ve never been allowed to date due to the conditions of your clan; that you were to marry someone from the Gojo clan when you turned twenty-one. Unfortunately, you didn’t have many options as Satoru had been the last one standing by the grace of his inherited traits. 

Because of your ignorance, you couldn’t quite gauge if this type of distance was a normality within marriage. Were you to just stick by him through thick and thin when he hasn’t even so much as kissed you since your last shared moment at the wedding venue?

Was this really marriage? Or were you just a placeholder for the potential of your clan, an offspring bearing Satoru’s inviolable power?

Sneaking out of the bed carefully, you tiptoed downstairs of the shared loft and sat against the sofa with your knees tucked into your chest. You contemplated turning on the television for some white noise but you didn’t want to wake Gojo up, in fear he might yell although he’s never done that. You deduced that he wasn’t a tyrant, the speculation blending in on days where he’d come home tired but he would still have a gentleness laced within his voice as he whispered a quiet ‘hello, how was your day?’ to you.

Gentle yet not an ounce of intimacy had ever shone through, his body nearly melting into a warm bath everytime he moved past you after formalities. He would barely speak to you for the rest of the evening as he went about his routine. You thought maybe his missions just took up his entire mind, it was his success story after all; his life had been blasted throughout Japan due to his aspects. But then you’d noticed his time away from home with his friends, karaoke bars dredging up on his bank statements. 

Which brought you to think maybe he was an alcoholic and he couldn’t you know… get it up. 

It was fairly common for alcoholics to become inept in sex, so you couldn’t quite put it past him if that were the case. But then again, you’ve never seen him drunk. It was entirely possible that he could’ve sobered up by the time he arrived home. He never smelled of alcohol though, normally it would seep out of someone’s pores whether or not they had showered the pungent smell down the drain. But as he slipped into bed with the covers huddled against him after a night out, he’d smell of the shampoo you two shared with a fragrance of lilac surrounding the bedsheets. 

Your phone slipped from your hand with a loud thud and you flinched, cursing at yourself inwardly as you swiped down to pick it up. You prayed you didn’t wake Gojo up, as he had a long mission in the morning. But it was too late as you heard him rustle his way out of the sheets, a disgruntled yawn escaping him as he put on his slippers. The bedroom was open space within the loft, separated by a thin glass railing that someone could easily lean over which is exactly what he did. 

Gojo peered down at you, his tired eyes still filled with sleep. You could still see the radiance of them even from below, the piercing brightness that you swear you’ll never get used to. “Y/N? You’re not in bed.”

“I’m sorry Gojo, I didn’t mean to be so lou-” You started clumsily, fiddling with the stupid phone in your hands but he interrupted you quietly. 

“Satoru. Call me Satoru.” He reminded you with that same tenderness from before, that gentleness you couldn’t quite get past and your cheeks flushed red. “It's cold down there, isn’t it? Must be freezing.” 

Gojo padded down the stairs and you stood up as he draped a thin blanket onto your shoulders, shielding your body from the icy air that the winter had brought into the house. He headed for the restroom, his slippers shuffling against the hardwood floor and you made a note to buy yourself a pair; the fuzzy socks on your feet didn’t do you justice for the wretchedness of the season. You stared at the caved in reflection of yourself from the windowed wall, the trees dancing in the wind with their roots tucked safely underground. 

There was a river on this side of the house as well, the water edging up against the stones that had been laid out carefully to create a small pond for koi fish. A bridge elapsed over it and sometimes you sat against it, your feet dangling as you fed the fish while waiting for Gojo to return home. It was a funny feeling to have so much of his wealth staring back at you all of a sudden. 

“You still up?” Gojo asked, a bit puzzled as he stood against the light from the restroom. It veiled out into the living room and you were met with his silhouette crowding the doorway. He had his arm up against the doorframe and his eyebrows raised slightly as he stared at you. His shirt was hanging loosely off his body and some of the light illuminated his waist, the curves that travel down to his– 

He shut the light off and you couldn’t see him anymore except for the tufts of white hair sticking out like a sore thumb in the darkness. Moving towards the stairs, you ascended them as he managed to catch up to you. You didn’t notice the way he held out his hand, hovering over the small of your back to ensure you didn't stumble back. And even if you did, he’d be sure to catch you without so much as a thought whether he’d fall down the stairs with you. And if you both did manage to fall, a laugh would probably erupt out of him as you both sat there in bewildered pain.

Crawling into your side of the bed, you felt the cold rush of the sheets lying amidst the tangle of your limbs. You laid down with a quiet sigh, the moon thick amongst the clouds and you stared at it for a while. The other side of the bed creaked underneath his weight and you felt his body brush up against yours as he pulled the shared blanket over himself. You wanted nothing more than his arm to wrap around your waist, to pull you close and flush against him and you pouted when he turned his back to you. 

Gojo had fallen asleep the second his head hit the pillow and that meant he wouldn’t bother you for the rest of the night. Though, you kinda wished he did want to bother you. 

The morning came with the sunrise shielding your eyes as you awoke, the man next to you long gone and off to work. The first thing on your mind was breakfast, a delightful hope that maybe something could be made in the kitchen. But as you headed downstairs, the cabinets looked bare as well as the fridge with no intentions on filling themselves. A shopping trip apparently was needed today and you sighed heavily as you got yourself ready for the day. 

The train wasn’t very full, the morning commute having passed a few hours prior but you still had to stand near the edge of the sliding doors. Everything went to your liking at the grocery store, you had picked out a bunch of fruits, vegetables, and of course a few sweets for Gojo because you noticed the macaroons he had brought home one day, half eaten on his kitchen counter. You had watched him from the comfort of the bed, munching on them while scrolling through his phone, single-handedly eating the rest of the box in one sitting with a happy hum. That’s when you realized his sweet tooth, the bulk of it surviving off of straight sugared pastries.

As you headed towards the station, you had a nagging feeling there were eyes on you. A familiar sense surrounded you and you wondered why it felt like that; you pushed it out of your mind though. It was most likely someone checking out your attire, the adorned outfit clinging to your skin. It had enough detail pointing towards your midriff and your thighs encased in thin stockings, maybe someone had just been attentive today and wanted to ogle at you. It wasn’t like you could stop them. 

The train back was much more packed at noon and you had been squeezed into a corner, next to two guys that looked to be middle aged with cigarettes between their fingertips. This was an issue in your eyes, as you realized they were the same guys that had been harassing you before whenever you took the train home. You had ignored it the first few times, the music you had blasting in your ears enough for them to turn their heel but the past few days as you stepped out of the house to do your errands, it became much more demeaning. 

The first time it was a subtle nudge with their foot against yours, kicking it lightly to get you to pay attention to them. The next time it an arm grab as you hopped off the train, your feet just barely grazing the ground as you hauled yourself out past the doors. And now, you didn’t know what they would try this time as you failed to bring earbuds with you. It seemed as if the world didn’t care what happened to you when you left Gojo’s hell of a palace, the bypasser’s backs turned against your favor. The skirt you wore came past your midthigh and you clenched your hold on the pole a little tighter, shuffling some of your bags against your forearms wearily.

“Heading to the same place, doll?” One of them piped up, a sleazy smile lazed on his lips. You tried to ignore him, but he certainly noticed your lack of music and he got up from his seat in front of you. You tried to move backwards a bit, but there really wasn’t any space to do so.

“Yeah, we can escort you there this time. Seems to me you got a lot of bags.” The other one said as he also stood in front of you and you looked around the train, factoring in the exits and the fastest way to push through people. You also noted that almost everyone else was minding their own business, fucking assholes with their headphones and haughty misplaced morals.

As you decided whether or not to stand your ground, you noticed a tall figure in the back of the train car making their way forward with unhurried ease. Maybe you could ask them for help, whoever they were. Or maybe they were in cahoots with these men who had been harassing you, readying their attack from afar.

“Can you please leave me alone?” You asked firmly, trying to move away again from where they towered above you. You really weren’t liking your odds this time and a wave of fear rushed over you as one of them yanked some of your bags away, discarding them on the seat behind them.

“C’mon, looks like you need help today–” The first guy started, grabbing the groceries from your other arm and you pulled them back toward you harshly. The second guy had sat back into his seat, aiming to finish his cigarette instead of bothering you. The first guy kept a steady hand on you though, a bruised grip on you and it started to hurt; a dull throb had begun to overtake your arm.

“Please stop.” You pleaded, swinging the bag into him hard as he tried to deliberately yank it away again. Some of the items fell out of the bag and another hand on your arm gripped you harshly, pulling you down towards the man sitting. 

“Quit being so stubborn. You’re boyfriend’s not here to help you, huh?” The second guy cooed, holding you in place as the first guy went through the groceries on the floor. He huddled some into his jacket, unaware of his surroundings for a second and you used that to your advantage. Hitching your leg up, you kicked him directly in the abdomen and he doubled over in pain, the groceries falling from his pockets.

“You little bitch–!” The second guy sneered at you as he dug his lit cigarette into your skin and you yelped in pain, dropping all of your bags now onto the floor. You tried to wrench your arm away from the searing burn, but you couldn’t. His grip was too strong on you and you vaguely felt your back slam into the wall behind you, pain filling every crevice of your body. It was such a quick interaction, your thighs trembled underneath you as the man pushed up against you to keep you in place. Pure dread raced through you as you squeezed your eyes shut with a scream readying in your throat until you felt the weight off your chest and loud yells were flooding through your ears, the cigarette falling onto the floor.

More like terrified screams, a rush of wind had opened up in the train and your eyes peeked open cautiously. They first fixed on the wide open doors of the moving train, the lights speeding through the instances of train signs and the accompanied men hanging over the edge by their shirt collars. Then you registered the white haired man who was dangling said men with two strong hands, threatening to throw them out onto the electrified tracks beneath them. Begs and pleads came whirling out of both of the men’s mouths and you were sure one of them had started crying, sobs frantically overtaking him like a pussy.

“Satoru!” You cried out and his head whipped towards you, worry flooding his face as he saw you collapse with shaky footing onto the seat. Reluctantly, he pulled the men back into the train and slammed them against the door as he shut it. 

“Don’t fucking touch her again.” Gojo threatened, the edge in his voice not faltering and both of the men nodded scarily quick. “In fact, you don’t need to take this train anymore. Looks like another route opened up on your commute, huh?”

Gojo put his hands in his pockets and gave the men a hard kick to the stomach before moving over towards you. One of the other things you noticed was that he wasn’t in his uniform, his figure filled in a solid black sleeved tee and khakis instead. He crouched in front of you and immediately took off his usual sunglasses, studying your face to make sure you were okay. The whirling blue stared at you with growing panic as you shied away from him, terrified that they were going to see through your every sense. “Let me see.” 

Gojo’s hands immediately cupped your face as you froze, checking for any abrasions and then moved downwards to your arms and he stroked over the cigarette mark gently with his fingers. You winced at the pain that blossomed at the peak of the burn and he instantly pulled his hand away, his mind running a million miles a minute as he frowned at the singed area. Suddenly Gojo pulled a smile, a toothy grin that made you utterly confused.

“I have a first aid kit stashed somewhere in our house, so you’ll be fine!” He said reassuringly, a lighthearted tone edging his demeanor. What was with him? Normally he was quiet around you and his bearings kept punctuation in calmness. You’ve never seen this side of him and you faintly wondered if this was how he acted in public. Maybe when he was home, it was a different atmosphere and he was allowed to let his guard down.

Home, our house? His words cut through you like a knife. While he tended to the groceries on the floor and placed them into the bags again, you couldn’t help but tense up even more. It didn’t feel like your home, your shared life– 

Gojo’s voice fell a few octaves, the cheery upkeep of his personality disappearing as he became serious. “Was this the first time they harassed you?” 

“N-No.” You managed to say, sitting up fully on the train. Your head pounded and you moved to pick up some of the groceries as they rattled against the train’s floor. The sweet you had bought for Gojo sat near his foot and you noticed some of the pastries had been swished as you picked up the package. You let out a quiet noise of discontent, his eyes shot up towards yours with uneasiness and he noticed the sweets in your hand. 

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell me they were bothering you?” He murmured, carefully taking the sweets from your hand and placing them in the bag as he glanced at the words on the package. Realizing they were for him as you don’t eat those types of pastries often, his heart warmed in his chest. Gojo tried his best to hide the smile that was trying to flourish on his face, it wasn’t the time to get sappy about sweets you bought him. “I could’ve skipped some of my missions, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. A pet name. You didn’t think it was possible for him to utter such fondness, the affection sounding like it danced on a pile of fluffy clouds above your head. It made you lightheaded, or at least you thought it did; certainly not from the hellish confrontation you just had. 

“I didn’t think you’d believe me.” 

“Why wouldn’t I? I would’ve gladly joined you on your escapades if you told me.” Gojo teased with a gentle tone and you frowned at him. He was still crouched in front of you, his black long sleeve nearly slipping off the sides of his shoulders as he leaned forward to accommodate some space on the train as more people filed in. The ends of his elbows rested on one of your thighs as you crossed your ankles together in between his feet, recollecting yourself fully.

“You barely pay attention to me now, why would you go out of your way to come with me during my errands?” You avoided his eyes this time, not wanting to feel fooled into explaining anything more than that. But when the silence grew heavy after a few seconds, you glanced over to find out why he hadn’t spoken. 

His face had fallen flat and his eyes weren’t shining anymore, much to your relief. But as much as it relieved you it also made you incredibly upset, a knot thickening in your throat as you watched the dulled turquoise glass over.

“That’s not…” 

“It’s true! You never pay attention to me. You’re either out with friends at a karaoke bar probably drinking away the day or you’re exorcising some curse late in the night. Gojo, I don’t think you–” 

“Satoru. I don’t drink by the way.” He corrected you, silent annoyance filling his voice but it fizzled out as he tried his best to remain calm. In truth, he was falling apart on the inside. He never knew, never realized that he had been so distant from you and that you were hurting because of it. He only wanted to give you space the first few months to let you get used to his routine and to help you find your own. As Gojo thought of that reason, it seemed incredibly selfish of him and his chest tightened up with regret.

Pushing the feeling down, he laughed mildly with a hint of sorrow. “My mission was called off. I was on my way home, no curses to exorcise today.”

“Satoru…” Repeating his name, you said it with so much sadness that his heart almost broke in two. “Even when you come home early, you spend the rest of the evening without me. And your bank statements–” 

“From me buying the rounds for everyone, that’s not the issue right now.” He confessed truthfully; he would buy the whole bar for his friends who have seen hell and back with him, but he didn’t dare to drink a drop as it disoriented him too much. “I don’t have anything to do this evening so we can spend it together, sweeth–”

The next words you spoke were barely above a whisper as you gritted your teeth to stop yourself from outright sobbing them. “You haven’t so much as kissed me since the wedding. Why would you want to spend time with me?” 

Tears welled up in your eyes and he quickly wiped them away with the tips of his thumbs, the long awaited gesture making sobs wrack your body; of course he was drying the tears that he made you cry. “I don’t think we should’ve gotten married.” 

The train had halted, a loud announcement blaring that it was the end of the line. It was your stop, the doors opening up with the wind blowing through the train again and you tried to stand before Gojo softly blocked your way. You couldn’t look at him. “Y/N, you don’t mean that–”

“I just want to go home. I’m miserable, -toru.” 

“Of course, let’s go.” Gojo stood up with his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses once more, hauling the grocery bags onto his forearms and offering a hand out to you. “I’ll make dinner tonight.”

That’s not what you meant.

When you got to the house, stagnant air filled the house with tension filling in the empty corners. Gojo had become near silent, putting away the groceries with his lips pressed in a thin line and you thought you made him mad. 

In reality, he was on the verge of tears because he didn’t know how to make anything up to you. It was entirely his fault, the distance that forced you two apart. He was too focused on his missions to give a damn about how you felt, your feelings were rendered useless in his eyes. He was so used to arranged marriages in his clan that he never expected you to be so fragile, the frailness of a new life seeming to shock you. 

And so he gave you space. He thought it was something you wanted– something you needed after being forced to live with a big shot jujutsu sorcerer from Tokyo. He knew his life was drastically different from yours, you had stability from living peacefully with your clan. You were promised fortune and happiness and future children you could call your own, something you must’ve dreamed of. Gojo had nothing, his missions keeping him afloat as he danced in the midst of the curses who tried to test him; not to mention the wickedness of other clans threatening to clash with him.

All he really wanted was someone close enough to him that he could let his guard down without a second thought; his technique fading away and being replaced by your hands on him, tearing away at the fabric that made him whole. He’s never felt like this before, the constant emotions flaring up his every sense and he nearly wiped out when he first saw you on the sidewalk, carrying the precious groceries to the train station. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, the readying sensation of wanting to be the one who carried your bags and alleviate your stress, he’d likely let you step all over him like a doormat if it meant he could get close to you.

But he just couldn’t.

“I’m going to see my clan leader tomorrow.” You expressed, seating yourself at the island in the kitchen. You had just showered, the muck of the men’s hand from earlier flooding down the drain and you sighed in relief as you felt more like yourself again. Gojo had swapped his sunglasses for his blindfold, his hair sticking straight up in light of the band wedging his bangs off of his forehead. He was still in the same attire though, the dusked sleeves rolled up messily against his arms as he meticulously cut vegetables for dinner. When he registered your words, the knife in his hand faltered.

“Would they even let you come back?” Gojo sulked, mixing the sliced veggies with the accompanying sauce that sat on the stove. “Clans are very unforgiving, you know. I don’t think you’d survive if you went home.”

“I don’t know.” You really didn’t, all they taught you was to be praising of the Gojo clan member you marry; your whole life had been to practically worship him on your hands and knees. Not that you’ve done that– the hands and knees part would’ve been nice though in practice.

“We don’t have to talk about this now.” Gojo turned towards you, leaning over the island with a spoon in his hand. “Here, taste this for me.”

A blend of spices hit your tongue as you savored the sauce from the dip of the spoon, looking up at him as you did so. You could feel the cursed energy flowing from him and it made you waver slightly as you made to say that he was a good cook. As he moved back into front of the stove, you swore you saw a small blush creep up his cheeks.

A bit of silence followed and you decided to help out with dinner, picking out some other ingredients for him to use. As you opened the refrigerator to scour the shelves, Gojo cleared his throat as he peeled the outside of an onion. “What do you expect from a husband?” 

Your head peeked over the fridge towards him in utter shock. You thought you weren’t going to talk about pointless intentions, your mind having been set on leaving. “What?”

“Huh, I gotta repeat myself?” 

“No, I heard you. Let me think for a second.” 

The first thing that popped into your mind was intimacy. A husband should provide a sense of intimacy that no one but him should give you; the very essence of a human relationship. This didn’t have to include sexual relations, but in your case you wanted it to. It would be nice if he held your hand during outings and offered sentimental gestures like flowers and a hushed compliment every now and then. But the feeling you really craved was his hands against your thighs, digging into your flesh as his mouth hovered over every place it could reach with a pointed tongue and his eyes boring up towards yours, a smirk prominent on his lips as you quivered under his touch.

Dejection sat heavy in your heart just then, reminding you that he hasn’t done any of those things.

The fridge wafted over you with a cold atmosphere and you pushed the thought out of your head, shutting the door mindlessly. You watched Gojo add the rest of the ingredients to the pan and he washed the cutting board he used with a hum, presumably giving you time to think over your answer.

But you lost your train of thought and after a minute of just standing there with a blank face, he spoke up in an amused tone. “You gonna answer me, sweetheart?”

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” 

“Where did that come from?” A quiet chuckle escaped him as he dried his hands of excess water, leaning against the island with his hip. He tossed the towel down on the counter, crossing his arms with a coy smile. “I should be asking you that question.” 

“I thought you didn’t care or something was wrong with me. That you didn’t want me, that I was just some offer that my clan made you-” You started, emotions flowing through your system as tears threatened to spill again. Your voice broke off in the midst of the sentence and you gasped for air as you tried not to cry. You didn’t realize how broken you felt until now as it trudged up towards the surface and you vaguely registered Gojo moving towards you, his smirk disappearing with a quiet coo. 

His arms instantly wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight hug and you froze when you heard his heartbeat against your ear. “Y/N, I wanted you from the moment I saw you walking down the aisle.”

“Satoru…” You whispered into his chest and he shushed you, his strong arms hauling you onto the island and you sat eye level with him and he bended slightly down in front of you. You had the genius idea to remove his blindfold with lithe fingers, hooking them and pulling upwards to reveal the vividness hiding underneath. His hair fell against his eyes and he smiled at you warmly as he blinked his eyes a bit, getting used to the extra exposure of light. 

Your head was swimming at his confession, the memory of walking down in your white dress crossing your mind fondly. And him in his pristine black suit with a pearly blue tie, sticking out like a sore thumb mind you, his eyes had draped against you as your clan leader gave you away. You never recognized his awe of you as you were shaking like a leaf when you first saw his demeanor; the intense refined energy whirling off of him nearly made you trip down the aisle. 

“Please, just let me make it up to you.” Gojo whispered as you folded his blindfold into his pocket, leaning into your space with his arms braced on either side of you on the counter. “Before you leave me, let me give you one good night. Though, that’s a severe understatement if you know what I mean.”

Before you could answer him, his lips had found yours with lenience hanging by a thread. Immediately resting your hands against the back of his neck, you enclosed them and pulled him closer to you with a feeling yearning so deeply inside you. It made your entire body shudder with want, his words running circles in your mind as you let his tongue slip in with growing fervor. Gojo’s hands found your waist, holding you steady as you edged yourself away from him. 

“-toru, -toru, wait.” You pulled back and he made a short noise of discontent, instead latching his lips against your neck. “D-Dinner?” 

“Oh, right.” He muttered into your skin with a displeased groan. In one fluid motion, he turned off the stove and carried you by the grace of one arm. “That’s not what I want right now.” 

As he walked the both of you up the stairs to the loft, you clung onto him like a lifeline and even as he laid you down against the bed, your hands never left a part of his body. You needed to be close to him, needed this one chance for him to change your mind; in truth you didn’t want to leave him. But it made him move like clockwork, huh?

Who knew all you had to do was cry? 

Gojo hovered above you and God, you didn’t realize how massive his frame was against yours until he was on top of you. His broad shoulders basically caged you in, keeping you safe underneath him as his tongue found your collarbone and lapped at it slowly. Your hands flew to his hair with a quiet moan, tangling in the fluffy snow of it and he hummed delightfully at your response. His hands played with the seams at the bottom of your shirt and his eyes darted to yours, asking for permission. 

Offering a quick ‘yes’, you felt your shirt lift up carefully and his hands instantly roamed underneath, focusing on the way you had no bra on. How wonderful it was that you were comfortable in that sense with him, his fingers tweaking your nipple lightly as he studied you for a reaction. A peaked whimper left your mouth and your eyes slipped shut, your back arching slightly into his touch. Gojo felt the heavy ache of his cock, pressing harshly against the front of his trousers and he honestly didn’t think he could get this hard. But you were just so pliant, every single touch enacts a spark from you and he wished he made his move sooner. 

He could’ve been buried in you every waking moment you were with him for the past two months and he wished he could go back in time and beat himself up for being such a fucking idiot. 

“-toru…” You moaned out as his mouth latched onto your nipple now after he fully pulled your shirt off, his teeth grazing the bud and he had to press his palm against his cock to calm down as you whimpered out little pleas. Pleas that were music to his ears, your hands pulling his down towards your precious cunt and all he wanted to do was sink in. 

But he had to stop himself from just going in blind with you; it was your first time after all. Gojo didn’t want to scare you away because of his sheer desperation, it was his own fault that he made you wait so long. It wasn’t about him, he needed to make sure you saw stars tonight. 

“Fuck, want to hear those pretty whimpers for the rest of my life.” He breathed out as his fingers traced your clothed cunt, teasing it with a hard stroke upwards towards your clit. Gojo hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts and again with a questioning look pleaded for an answer. You rewarded him with a quick nod and he pulled them out with ease, his jaw dropping a bit as he noticed how wet you were already. It practically seeped out of you and he held back a groan as he swiped a finger through it. 

“God, didn’t think a pussy could get this wet.” He uttered under his breath, sucking his finger into his mouth to clean it off. “And I’ve seen my fair share.” 

“Satoru.” You frowned at him, sitting up on your elbows. “Did you have to add that last part?” 

“Sorry, baby. Your pussy’s the prettiest, I promise.” He reassured with a smirk, bending down to face your cunt.

He teased his tongue against your clit experimentally and groaned into you as you reacted exactly how he expected you to, your hands clutching at his hair again. He ran his arms underneath your thighs, rubbing softly at your hips as he pulled you more onto him. Gojo licked a fat stripe up your entire cunt this time, lapping at the arousal that flooded out of you with satisfaction. You moaned out, your head tipping back and your hips rolled against his face subconsciously as he fucked his tongue into you feverishly. His nose pressed against your clit, rubbing it subtly as he pointed his tongue into you and you could already feel your orgasm rushing up your spine. 

“-toru, hold on…. Fuck, too fast, wait!” You whined out, trying to push him away so you didn’t cum all over his face but his grip on you became tight and his fingers dug into the tops of your thighs, his forearms cradling the backs of them. His eyes met yours as he noticed you quiver, the blinding blue heavy with lust and nothing could’ve stopped you then. You came all over his face with a tremble, the tightness in your tummy unraveling like a ribbon and Gojo moaned into your cunt as your thighs squeezed against him.

“Should’ve mentioned my tongue’s won an award.” He stupidly quipped afterwards and you burst out laughing once you caught your breath, the mood having lightened much more to your benefit. You could learn to love his idiot, if this is how everyday was supposed to be. You noticed the glisten that shielded his lower face and he grinned at you, his cheeks flushed hot.

“What, for talking shit?” You teased as he wiped his mouth with the inside of his shirt before pulling it off, his abs suddenly on display and you almost choked. 

“Hey now, I don’t talk shit. Unless it’s about Utahime.” Gojo retorted with a chuckle, moving to unzip his trousers. 

You stopped him and he looked at you confused but when your fingers ran against the outline of his cock, his eyes widened. He was fucking huge though you had nothing to compare it to and honestly  you didn’t need to to know that he was gonna stretch you open with one shallow thrust. You unzipped his trousers, his clothed cock much more prominent in front of you now and you palmed him lightly, silently gauging his reaction. A quiet groan escaped him and his eyes fluttered shut as you pulled him out of his boxers. And holy fuck, he’s supposed to fuck you with this? 

How was it going to fit? Gojo was so goddamn lengthy and wrapped your hand around him carefully, testing the waters as one of his hands rested against your shoulder. “Y-Y/N…”

“Yeah?” You breathed, running your hand up his shaft towards the tip, the crown of it and he shuddered– he fucking shuddered from your touch and he inhaled sharply, his mouth falling open.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Tonight’s supposed to be about you.” Gojo bit back a moan as you started to pump him through his words, tracing some of his veins with the extent of your eyes.

“I want to, trust me.” 

Before you really knew what you were doing, you took him into your mouth and Gojo’s hands flew to the top of your head quickly, a breathy moan emitting from him. “Holy shit, Y/N, holy fucking shit.”

You enveloped his cock in your warmth and he tangled his fingers into your hair shakily, the sensation sending warning signals flying to his brain as he tried his best not to just buck into your mouth. You sucked him down like a champ, and who the fuck taught you to do that, he thought vaguely with breathy moans falling from his mouth. He couldn’t help it, your mouth felt so good around him and it’s been forever since someone’s tended to him like this.

“Oh God, you have such a dirty mouth, huh baby? Who taught you how to– fuck, suck me off like that?” He moaned out, a smirk plastered on his face as he looked down at you and you scowled at him in return. You swallowed around him, listening to his whimpers and you noticed that his thighs had started to shake lightly. 

Fuck, you were going to make him come just from this. “Shit, keep going baby…please, sweetheart.”

You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, lying heavily against your tongue and you lapped at it with a hefty moan. You hollowed your cheeks and took him as deep as he could possibly go and you felt his hips start to move languidly, fucking himself deeper into your mouth. You gagged around him, feeling the wet slick of your saliva on his cock drag against your lips and his grip tightened in your hair. Gojo set a relentless pace for you, rutting in with vigor and you felt him tremble above you with a rushed groan following, his hips stilling. 

You did not expect such a bitter taste, his cum flooding into your mouth in viscous ropes and you pulled off of him with a gasp. Some of it splattered on your face and you swallowed the load in your mouth a bit shocked. Your cunt suddenly ached with want, his whimpers and how his face contorted in pleasure replaying over and over and- “-toru…”

“Mm, ‘M sorry honey.” Gojo breathed out, his chest rising and falling and he swiped his finger through the splatter of cum across your cheek, reveling at how tainted you looked. Thank God he was the one to corrupt you, if it was anyone else he wouldn’t have been able to handle it he thought. The way you looked below him, your tongue flush on his cock; he’d probably kill everyone if he couldn’t see that again. 

And that’s right, you were his wife. His precious wife that he took for granted.

“-toru, please. I need you, your fingers-” Your pleas brought him back to his senses, the numb feeling of the past two months falling away as he helped you lay back on the bed. You looked absolutely wrecked, your lips red and as you pleaded, it came out in rasps.

“Shh, it’s okay. Hold on, I got you.” Gojo had taken to your left side, making sure he had a good view of his fingers slipping inside you. As he pushed two inside, you keened at the feeling and your hips moved against them. He curled them upwards, grazing against your sweet spot lightly and you arched your back, your head falling against the feathery pillows with a wanton moan. 

“Want my cock instead? Much better than my fingers, baby.” He cooed, his other hand wrapped around his cock and pumping it to full length again. It wasn’t all that difficult to get hard again when you were splayed out in front of him like this, begging for him to do anything and everything. Before you even nodded, he was pulling off the rest of his clothing and hovering over you once more, pulling his fingers out of you with a dismissed moan coming from you.

As he positioned himself against your entrance, his eyes captured yours for the first time in a while and you felt your cheeks blush hot with embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you were begging for this man, but then again you couldn’t believe you weren’t begging for him before. 

“Might hurt a bit, but you’ll be fine.” He warned as he prodded his tip into you slightly and you shuddered, holding onto his shoulder blades for support. He sunk further into you and about halfway in, a dull pain started to ache within you as he stretched you. You whimpered out and Gojo immediately stopped moving, slight concern spreading over his face. “Are you okay?” 

“Shit, Satoru, you’re still not all the way in?” You whined and he merely chuckled, bottoming out with a shallow thrust that nearly brought you to tears. Gojo let out a breathy groan, his head lolling into the side of your neck and he kissed at your skin tenderly. 

“I am now.” He sucked a bruise into the crevice of your neck as he waited for you to adjust, his cock twitching impatiently inside you. He could feel you squeezing him, clenching around him to get used to the feeling and every single time you did, it sent straight pleasure coursing through his veins. “Fuck, tell me when I can move…”

“You can move…” You managed to get out, your fingers running up his back with a delicate scratch. 

“Thank fuck–” Gojo groaned out loudly, pulling all the way out of you and thrusting in with one fluid motion. You cried out at the sudden movement, you didn’t think he’d be so headstrong to fuck into you harshly without so much as a quick warning. “You were driving me insane…so fucking warm and tight for me.”

Gojo worked you open with his cock and you couldn’t help the sounds that came out of you, quiet whimpers and pleas of his name, ‘satoru, slow down a bit for me’, and he did reluctantly but not before giving a few harsh thrusts into your cunt. You wrapped your legs around him, taking him in deeper and he groaned in your ear with a shudder as he gripped onto your thighs.

“Stay just like that.” He whined in a merciful tone, his face now adjacent to yours and he gave you a spirited kiss, licking into your mouth with every damned thrust into your poor cunt. You both moaned into the kiss and he suddenly broke away to hoist your legs over his shoulders instead. “Actually… fuck, this so much better.”

Gojo was able to aim dead against your sweet spot that lingered in the corners of your nerves and you arched as he did so, each perfect thrust relentlessly hitting it and your vision clouded with unbridled pleasure. He looked so godlike above you, sweat glistening against his chest and his white hair had begun to look quite damp with the same moisture, falling beautifully over his eyes; those were on another level and you had to look away so you didn’t cum too quickly.

“All for me? Say it’s all for me.” He had started to beg, ecstasy coursing through both of you now and all you cared about was your releases, the euphoric pressure climbing up your spines with every strike of his hips against yours.

“All for you, -toru...” You babbled out as Gojo started rutting into you harshly, a quick rhythm picking up and your fingers welded into the sheets to keep yourself from hitting your head against the headboard. Your orgasm came crashing through you and you clenched around him as he buried into you with desperation.

“Fuck yeah, all for me.” His mouth dropped open with a low drawn out groan and his eyes squeezed shut as he came in you, his eyebrows furrowing as his orgasm cascaded through him. He shallowly pumped into you, mixing the cum with your arousal and you whimpered at the feeling as you came down from your high. He pulled out with a quiet sigh, gently bringing himself down to kiss you promptly and laying on top of you with his head on your chest. 

A couple minutes later, you felt his fingers trace over your burn mark that had scarred over on your arm. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” 

You looked down at him, his eyes fixated on the mark and you tousled his hair a bit as you smiled at him. Exhaustion had begun to take over your senses and you yawned as you spoke. “It’s okay, I’m just happy that you were on the same train.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” Gojo was quiet, his eminence surrounding you in a veil. “Please don’t leave.” 

“I wasn’t going to in the first place. You had already changed my mind when you said something about me not surviving in the clan.” 

He was quiet for a minute, registering what you just said. Then, you heard a cheeky laugh erupt from him.

“So, my dick wasn’t what changed your mind, huh. Guess we have to start over, don’t we?” He said with a smirk holding in his voice and everything he had just felt, the sorrow and the panic disappeared as he started to kiss down your chest. He pinned your wrists down as he hauled himself back into a good position, face to face with you. Maybe you could get used to the piercing brightness of his eyes, the turquoise loving and cordial and everything in between staring back at you in the way you’ve always wanted.

“Gojo Satoru, you’ve got quite a big ego don't you?”

“Perks of being the one and only.” He pressed a light kiss on your lips, his hands brushing over your body. “Well, maybe not for long.”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[powermakar]

Slut! (3+1) - LS2

Summary: 3 times you break down and Logan pulls you in and the 1 time he breaks down and you pull him in. Based off of the song "Slut!" by Taylor Swift

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: Swearing, self-deprecation, and Qatar 2023

1- I crashed my car

“Logan,” you breathe out. “Logan, I, Logan…” you try again.

“Y/n what happened? Are you okay? Did you get into an accident? Where are you?” Logan quickly asks as panic builds up inside of him. 

A quick “yes” is all you are able to croak out. “I crashed my car, I don’t know what to do and I need you,” you say with tears rolling down your face. “The other guy is being an asshole and he just keeps yelling and swearing at me.” Wiping your runny nose on your sleeve you say, “I’m scared, please hurry up.”

“I’m on my way, just try to breathe with me, we don’t want you to hyperventilate,” he tries to joke. 

As you mentally go through the checklist of things you know what to look for and ask for when you get into an accident, you can’t seem to think straight. Embarrassment, the fear of failure and disappointment run through your veins. You can’t even imagine how angry people will be at you, and that thought alone just scares you. You walk to the back of your car to reassess the damage, luckily there is a miniscule dent on the back of the bumper. Nothing really worth fixing or paying any attention to. When you turn to the man’s car you cringe inwardly as more tears prick your eyes. You look back at the man and say, “I am very sorry sir, I really do not know what happened but I am willing to pay for any of the damage.” 

The man looks you up and down before telling you to shut up. At his abrupt comment, you turn away from him as more tears begin to run down your face. “Don’t you walk away from me you bitch!” the man yells. 

Unfortunately for the man, Logan heard his comment as he was getting out of his car. “Do not ever call her a bitch ever again, do you understand?” he says as he walks towards you. You see the man awkwardly turn away from the two of you.

Logan turns to you as you quietly call his name and engulfs you in a hug. “It’s okay, we will figure this out, don’t worry about it, angel,” he whispers as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.. All you could manage was a little hum. 

And I break down, then he’s pullin’ me in. In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

2- I’m tired 

Being a university student is exhausting. Add in a boyfriend, a social life, and a job, all of your days seem to blur together. As the weeks went on, assignments and projects stacked on top of each other in a never ending loop. Once you finished one project, you were assigned another one along with some long-term assignments you needed to constantly work on. This week in particular seemed extra hard. Two projects, one discussion, and five different assignments were all due in a span of three days and you haven’t even started on some of them. You knew it was going to be a long week of sleepless nights. You were fine with it though, this is what you wanted anyways. Right? 

“Hey angel, do you want to go out to the theater and go to dinner after?” Logan asks as he walks into the kitchen area. 

“I would love to, Lo, but I really have to work on all of these assignments. They are all due pretty soon and I don’t have much done,” you sigh.

“Oh come on Y/n, you’ve been working extremely hard and you deserve a break. Please, for me?” 

“I deserve a break after I finish these. It is important that I finish these. Please just let me finish.” 

“Ok, how about we just go out to dinner and skip the movie?” 

“Logan, don't you understand that I’m tired and I just want to be alone so I can finish these assignments. God, you are so annoying. Just stop bothering me, please.” you abruptly say. Logan, who was taken back by your rude outburst, just looks at you before walking into your shared room. 

You couldn’t focus on your work after Logan left, all you could think about was the look on his face after you yelled at him. You were running on a few hours of sleep and you knew that wasn’t an excuse, you felt awful. 

Walking to the bedroom you gently knock on the door, “Lo, can I come in?” 

“Go work on your assignments, I don’t want to talk” he says muffled. Ignoring his comment, you walk into the room anyway. 

“I’m really sorry Logan. You aren’t annoying, it was a bad thing for me to say. I’m just really tired and overwhelmed so I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have.” The tiredness suddenly hits you like a train and emotions are running high. 

“I’m really sorry Lo. I did not mean it and I really feel awful. I’m so sorry” you say, feeling a tear roll down your cheek. 

“Come here Y/n. I know you didn’t mean it, I also know how serious you take your studies so I shouldn’t have really asked you to step away from it for some stupid movie,” Logan says while pulling you into his lap. 

Burying you head into his chest, you can feel more tears fall. “I’m sorry for getting your shirt all wet”. 

“It’s okay. How about we get some take-out and I will try to help you with some of your work?” 

“I would really love that Lo, thank you.”

And I break down, then he’s pullin’ me in. In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

3- I read the comments

You knew that you would have to deal with all of Logan’s fans and others when you first started dating him. You knew that, you understood that, but what you couldn’t understand was the fact that they will scrutinize every single little detail about you. You didn’t understand why they didn’t do it to the other girlfriends, not that you wanted them to experience it, it just felt like you were singled out. Maybe the others did get all of this hate but they just hid it or covered it up well. That is something you would never be able to do. The comments were on your mind 24/7, it was all you could think about nowadays. 

Looking into the bathroom mirror, all you saw was the few stretch marks on your thighs and how much more you weighed compared to everyone else. Now you did not blame Logan for posting the picture of you two on a beach over the summer break. You blamed yourself. Why did you have to look like that? Why did you have to weigh what you did? Why did Logan date you and not someone skinnier? 

It was like a never ending spiral. Soon you were taking off your shirt to look at the ‘lumps’ on your stomach. Gently grabbing the skin, you pulled on it, imagining how much less you would weigh if you were to cut it off. Your eyes made it up to your boobs where some of the upper flesh was spilling out of the cups of your bra. ‘Tiger stripes’ were what Logan called them, you called them stretch marks and were embarrassed of them. Logan said that they were one of his favorite things about you, they were probably your least favorite thing about yourself. 

You didn’t even register the bathroom door opening until you made eye contact with Logan in the mirror. “What are you doing?” he asks as his eyes make their way over your breasts. 

“Oh, I was just- uhm, just…” you say, clearing your throat. 

“Doing what exactly?” 

“Do you ever read the comments on your Instagram posts?” you ask abruptly. 

“No not really, why?”

“Well I read the comments. Are you not embarrassed about me? To be seen with me? To post a picture of you beside a person like me?” 

“What are you talking about Y/n? I would never be embarrassed about you. I love you, don’t you know that?”

“Logan you shouldn’t be with someone who looks like a whale when they go to the beach or with someone who has stretch marks all over their body.” These were just two of the comments that seemed to run like a broken record in your mind. 

“What the hell? You look perfect, angel. In fact you are perfect Y/n. I don’t want to be with anyone else but you. Whoever put those silly ideas in your head should be embarrassed and ashamed of themselves for saying such things about a beautiful person. Now let me show you how much I love you.”

You can feel a faint blush rise to your cheeks as you turn off the bathroom light off, leaving your discarded shirt laying on the floor, and the bad idea in the air. 

And I break down, then he’s pullin’ me in. In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

+1- I crash and burn constantly

Another DNF in the books. Another podium for Oscar in the books. You felt torn between sickness and happiness. You felt awful for Logan as he wasn’t able to finish the race due to the bad conditions and felt sick to your stomach as his F1 career could be on the line, it was all he really dreamed about. But you felt happy for your long-time friend Oscar as he seems to be finding his spot within F1 with McLaren. 

You grab a water bottle on your way into Logan’s driver’s room. You don’t even knock. You just walk into the room and sit down on the couch. You look over to Logan and you don’t even dare to utter a word to him. You know he doesn’t want to talk about it so you don’t even bother with it. He looks up at you but quickly turns away and looks at his shoes resting in the corner of the room. 

Clearing his throat, he asks, “Did you go watch Oscar’s podium celebration?” 

“No” is all you say. 

“You should have. You should be out celebrating with him and Lily. Go and congratulate him, you shouldn’t be in here with me.” 

There was something just…off about him. “I doubt this would be the only opportunity to congratulate him.” 

“You’ll never get to congratulate me.” 

“You know that is not what I meant. I congratulate you after every race. There aren’t enough words to tell you how proud I am of you.” 

“You aren’t proud of me. You are proud of Oscar. You are just embarrassed of me. I’m lucky if I get to finish my race, let alone fight for a podium. I have been out-qualified by Alex every single damn time. I crash and burn everytime I get in that car and I’m fucking tired of it.” He lets out a shaky breath and runs his hands through his hair. “I’ll never be like Oscar, I’ll never be that ‘once in a generation talent’ and I don’t even have a chance at being the best rookie since Lewis. It’s too much pressure to even keep the car from hitting the wall,” he continues.

“I know I will never fully understand the pressure of being a F1 driver but I at least want to help. Help me understand what you are going through and we can work through this together. Please let me help you Logan, please,” you whisper. 

He walks over to the couch and takes a seat next to you, resting his head against your shoulder. You take a hold of his left hand and begin playing with his fingers. 

“I was fighting at the top with Oscar when all of a sudden I found myself being glad that I finished the race or even finishing P19 instead of P20 is a miracle. I just feel like I need to prove to everyone that I am capable of competing and having a seat in F1. I hate seeing how upset the mechanics get when I crash and the fact that they have to rebuild a whole damn car in a single night. And the memes and jokes, I hate seeing them. I know what a fucking kilometer is and I know that me and Oscar are now at total ends of the spectrum when it comes to results. It’s fucking hard to see everyone comparing me to him is those stupid videos.” Throughout his whole speech, you could hear multiple voice cracks. 

“Love, we all support you. Me, your family, your friends, the whole team, even Oscar supports you and only wants the best for you. Please believe that we are all so proud of you and what you have been able to accomplish.” You can feel a wet spot growing on your shoulder, when you look down you can see Logan trying to wipe his face. “It’s okay Lo, you will get the results that you want, you work so fucking hard and I know, with out a doubt, that you will achieve something great.” 

You kneel down infront of him and take his hands into your own. “Please trust me on that Logan, please.” 

“I trust you Y/n, 100%” 

And he breaks down, then I’m pullin’ him in. 

[sukunasweetheart]

OK, poe, hear me out. What do you think the jjk males would react with a wife reader when their 4yr kid asks them how kids are made? I can just imagine with some of them, reader is absolutely shooting a death glare at their hubby, and just trying to give to basically avoid to telling the kid.(Since the kid is like 4)

hi babes! i dont write for the other jjk men unfortunately but i am more than happy to talk abt sukuna with this (as per usual)

with sukuna i feel like he would watch you trying to make up some really basic child-friendly story about how kids are born into this world and sukuna would listen into your cheesy ass explanation and SNORT LMFAOOO making it seem like the process of conceiving a child (sex) is all magic and rainbows <3 when in reality you know he was balls deep inside you for nights on end until your poor womb was so full with his seed,,, there was no way that you were NOT getting pregnant after that,,,

but ofc, u cant tell ur infant child this so um, that made up fairytale of yours will have to do for now. sukuna will continue to cackle at you, and so you'd probably narrow your eyes and glare at your husband being like "be quiet. unless you have a better story in mind?"

"what? you want me to talk about how i literally turned you into a cream filled-"

you clasp your hand over his mouth so fast. luckily your child had already tuned out due to their low attention span and did not hear that last part 💀 only sukunas muffled laughing can be heard.

"are you mad??" and he only starts laughing harder.

"ahh, this whole thing reminded me of the good old times though. i miss trying to put a baby in you. how about we reminisce tonight? i could give you a second one..." he'd whisper to you afterwards.

you say no, but he is aware that your nos are never really a no... youll cave in anyway. it hits different when he's ACTUALLY trying to impregnate you.

[gladiatorcunt]

Modern coryo whos trying to sorta maybe manipulate his gf by being obsessed and then not reading her texts for 3 days but the gf is literally the same so it’ll be like

r: “heyyy” and then a day later he replies “heyaaa” and then it goes on like that for a week until he cracks and sends her 15 messages in the span of 4 minutes

cw: feminization/fem label “gf” but the reader is still only intended to be afab, the ask has she/her pronouns but i don’t use them in the writing, manipulation and toxic behavior, typical coryo/modern!coryo warnings, love bombing, not canon to the main au, black cat reader ish, reader has a shower in their dorm bc i say so 🤫, male masturbation

Now Coryo wouldn’t do this during your relationship, despite his best attempts to play it cool, you make him panic and he’s immediately resorting to rich boy love bombing (trips, those ridiculously expensive boxed roses, 999999999 rounds of oral on his yacht, a summer house, etc.) followed by baby trapping. He’s not stupid enough to try something like that deeper into your relationship, for him it’s about making sure the foundation is as solid as possible and not shaking it up.

This would really only happen before you even start dating, after he’s bumped into you in the dorms enough times to wear you down into giving him your number. He’s still in his “i have to the most mysterious person alive” mindset and he hasn’t quite shed the fuckboy persona yet. He doesn’t seek anybody out or anything, it was love at first sight with you unfortunately, he’ll just imply that that you’re another contact in a long list. (You’re the only one in his favorites 💀)

You’re smart enough to be wary, too involved in academics and proving yourself to go sniffing around Coriolanus Snow. You don’t really talk to a lot of people, and you’re not interested in a swarm of meaningless interactions. You’re just grateful that he stopped calling you so much, learning that you very much prefer texting. He’s the king of the “hey u up?” text, and you have the flattest look on your face as you reply “Yes.” and turn your phone face down. Exchanges like happen over and over.

Does your heart flutter when he insists on walking you to class and pecking your cheek at the door? Yes but you’ll roll your eyes and make a big deal out of wiping it off. Are you intrigued by how much he hauls ass to get you your coffee order whenever he senses that you need it (because he can, he’s like spiderman but lame)? Well, yes, but he must be playing some kind of game with you. Has a cliche bet with his fraternity brothers over your assumed virginity maybe. The more you’re determined to not fall for it, the more you find yourself slipping as the days go by.

Just when you turn your head when he pecks your cheek outside the lecture hall, expecting the gesture more than dreading it, he gives you a blank stare and turns on his heel. You take a second to blink and then shrug, it’s no skin off you back if Coriolanus decides to be normal for once. You definitely do not have a bit of a scowl throughout the entire session. (he nearly lost it when you didn’t react at the lack of a kiss, he kicked the wall and almost broke his foot)

He’s back to the “heyy” texts at random hours, responding to your “Hey.” that came a day later two days after that. He’s screaming into his pillow and pacing his grandma’am’s gardens, glaring at the staff pruning the shrubs. Coryo would rather die than admit defeat though, so he hardens his resolve. You’ll break eventually. You on the other hand are living normally, slurping ramen and working on essays. You’ve learned not get your hopes up over a pipe dream, the idea that someone like him would genuinely care about you being so laughable that you get over it rather quickly. You may be from different economic classes, but a man’s attention is never a necessity. That an he’s far from the only trust fund kid in the world.

A week later, your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You step out of the shower and dry yourself off, walking over to your bed and picking it up. To your surprise, the notification from Coriolanus isn’t another dry message, it’s several videos. They all look dark and fuzzy, ranging from 30 seconds to 10 minutes. In some of the thumbnails you can see flashes of bare skin. You click on the first one and are immediately faces with Coriolanus Snow’s sweaty abs.

You’re frozen as he eventually splatters jizz all over them, the camera work is shaky and the flash exposes too much for your liking. You can see his abdominal muscles twitch in the aftermath of his orgasm. He drags his fingers through his own cum and smears it over the camera, giving you a pov of what it’d be like to have your face covered in it.

Your phone chimes again.

Stalker: turn the sound on for the rest ;) see u at the car wash next friday, babe ❤️

You block him (after you save the videos and check the charge on your vibrator).