#we all hate doing nail trims

[freeforaugust]

Communicate like an adult and get results :)

[nanamiskentos]

NERDS DO IT BETTER ☓. ── ( 呪術廻戦 )

⌗ turns out they're the best you've ever had, and you think you're gonna' have to come back for more!

ᯓ starring ─. jjk ensemble cast : nerd! gojo, nerd! geto, nerd! sukuna, nerd! nanami, nerd! toji, nerd! choso

𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓽𝓲. ㅤ﹑ ( 呪術廻戦 x afab!reader )  ─── ❛ cw ⌓. mdni. college au. risky, public séx. handjóbs. óverstím. hate séx. fíngeríng. fiíming (consénsual). édging. vírgin!kuna. óral (m). missiónary. soft séx. brééding kínk. créampíe. backshóts. óral (f). wc ⌓. 3.5k.

﹙ 五条 悟 : gojo satoru ﹚ ─ advanced mathematics, physics

"oh, fuck!" gojo's absolutely quivering, throwing back a head of tousled, snowy hair, "that's, ouh, that's way better than i ever coulda' even dreamed of." pale-pink lips snapping sharp around another moan as he shudders, "can ya' do it again?"

you're clicking your tongue, doing your very best to bite back a flushed smile yourself. knowing that you've got the smartest, honour roll student pliant beneath you, his thighs splayed out and bare — the skin spottled with patches of rosy pink, dusted with fine white hairs. he's still got that campus sweatshirt on, rumpled over the askew collar of the dress shirt underneath. where you're eager to run your hands, to slide your fingers up past the low trail of hair on gojo's groin.

it doesn't hurt that gojo's, like, ridiculously gorgeous. thick-rimmed glasses foggy over vibrant blue eyes, framed by ridiculously long lashes. and you can see him gnawing at the inside of his cheek as your hand keeps at a steady pace. pumping him over and over, until thick ropes of seed are coating your hand. it must be the nth climax of his by now, but it seems neither of you are that eager to call it a day.

you smile at how gojo squeezes his eyes shut, glasses skipping askew so you can fondly kiss his forehead. titling his glasses right back into place, all while he bites back a low, rumbled groan, "a-another?" it's a plea, almost hopeful for you to milk his poor, throbbing cock until there's not much else it can give.

"mhm, i don't know, satoru. it's kinda' risky, don'tcha think?" you're trying to keep your voice down, knowing that anyone could round the corner here. they could move past the stack of chairs littered behind the physics subsection of books and old papers to find gojo spread out so sluttily over this chair, his pants drifting past his ankles while you lean over behind the desk to jerk him off. workshop questions and calculations long discarded as the most intelligent man on campus chases some form of pent-up relief from you, his angel that's solely heaven sent.

gojo's the type of guy that's always moving, whether he's skimming and flipping through pages of glossy textbooks or speeding over the butterfly keys of his steel-grey mac, and right now?

he's still in motion, tapping trimmed nails in staccato beats against the plastic table. drumming his fingers over and over as he does his best to not let you see the crystalline tears of delicious overstimulation pooling at the corners of his eyes. shuddering as you pull back, letting his big cock snap back, smearing a thin line of translucent cum against his blue sweatshirt.

cursing because he knows he's gonna' have to peel that top off before his next class, before anyone can figure out exactly what that stain is, "fuck, we still got 15 minutes before that lecture, yeah? one more, please, baby, jus' one more."

﹙ 夏油 傑 : geto suguru ﹚ ─ philosophy, sociology

"what did i say? eyes on the lenses, pretty girl." geto's determined and mean when he's like this, but then again, when is he not a cunt?

that bitchy nerd's always sniping at you, doing dumb shit like taking your seat in class and sucking up to the teacher — batting pretty, dark lashes at the tutor while throwing a nasty look your way when you get the answer right.

but as of this moment, there aren't any right answers in your head. not when geto's got you propped up in his broad lap. right in front of a blinking video camera, perched on a shaky tripod as he swirls his digits as deep as he can into your pretty, swollen pussy.

"s-sugu', feels so good," you moan, sinking your teeth into the plush flesh of your lower lip as geto's face softens for a split second before hardening once more. handsome features crinkling as he shakes his head of choppy, raven hair, "didn't ask if it felt good, geez. i asked for the answer to the question, or are we jus' having trouble following instructions as well?"

"hate ya' so, so much, still, i don' even remember the fuckin' question," you're sniffling, knowing that he's so deliciously knuckle deep within you right now. your clear, glossy arousal coating his fingers as he pumps the digits in and out of your heat with a satisfying squelch!

geto smiles, as though he wanted you to say that while he was rolling a fat thumb over your clitoral hood. berry lips pulling at the corners as he tuts, using the hand that was previously holding apart your thighs to slide a pristine paper over his bed, clicking his tongue before he intones, "tch', let me quiz you, again, 'cause we got that test tomorrow. though, 'm not sure it's much good. now, how would you explain structural functionalism?"

your mind's absolutely turning to incredible, pleasurable mush as you struggle to form coherent sentences. instead, staring at the blinking red light blearing out through the dark haze of geto's form room, and swallowing as he begins pulling at the sensitive ache of your clit, "it's, like, the premise of everything havin' a purpose. like, hahh, society being a well-oiled machine n' people are jus' cogs and — fuck! suguru, can't even focus like this."

your back is writhing against geto's toned chest, and you can feel the dark strands of hair that have escaped his hairtie tickling at your cheek, "i know, beautiful," he coos, almost as though he quite likes you, rather than the loathing that he claims, "now tell me, who's ideas does structural functionalism align with? answer quick, and i'll make ya' cum this time, promise!"

brain whirring on overtime to snap out a rushed breath, "emile durkheim!" your lips pouting as you heave in a candied breath of air, "that's right, isn't it? now you promised, so please! make me cum, sugu', fuck."

you can hear geto chuckle, "you didn't make me pinky promise, though?" and he's revelling in how you huff, and curse him out, "besides, i like watching you squirm all pretty for the camera. helps me remember my notes so much more. y'know that 'm gonna' go back and revise this later."

﹙ 両面 宿儺 : ryomen sukuna ﹚ ─ anthropology, history

"you're a virgin?" your mouth parting into a sweet gasp as charlotte tilbury leaves sticky strands of product stringing between your pretty lips. because, there's just no way...

sukuna's rolling his crimson eyes, and shoving his tattooed hands into the ragged pockets of his thick hoodie, "why don't we focus on the project again? y'know that the entire thing is due next week, and this is our last meet-up before we gotta' present?"

the burly, quiet man's clearly flushed — with his tanned cheeks painted awash in some watercolour, blushy hue. muttering something about insolent cheerleaders and how he's refusing to get a bad grade because of you. but you're never one to lose. you just cross your arms over your chest, and a little more firmly on purpose, just to watch sukuna gulp as his gaze drops right down to that shadow of cleavage, "hey, you're the one who asked if i was sleeping with the quarterback."

sukuna's just too easy, because for all his churlish, jerkish attitude, he's not immune at all to your easiest charms. like a pretty red lollipop, or a spritz of your favourite body mist, or when you hike the hem of your skirt up just a little bit higher to doodle faint hearts on your flesh. and now he's grunting, drawing his eyes away from your torso to gulp, training his eyes solely on the project rubric, "yeah. was jus' a question. i don't give a fuck."

"mhm, sure." snapping strawberry gum between your teeth, "because i'm not with him." you grin as sukuna stiffens, almost snapping the poor, thin frame of a cheap lead pencil between his thick fingers.

"no?" he sounds almost, almost sheepish. battered headphones clattering around his marked neck as he jerks, and you almost coo. for it's honestly quiet sweet at how interested he sounds. ironic, considering ryomen sukuna is one of the most surly men on campus. always with his nose buried in some medieval book, always some exemplary paper of his pinned to the student noticeboard about the heian era.

"no," you repeat, scooting just a little bit closer to his broad frame, "because 'm interested in someone else, ya' see. like you, 'kuna."

the pencil snaps, the wood finally giving out to the quick motion of sukuna's fingers clamping down on it. pieces scattering and littering the table as broken lead clutters, the remnants of a man who's just had his world rocked but doesn't want to admit it, "hah, funny," he's muttering, "yer' really interested in me?" all you had murmured was a tempting, alluring little phrase that would remain with sukuna forever, something like, "want me to prove it?"

and that's exactly how you ended up like this. eyes blown wide, little hearts dancing around your pupils as you took in the sheer size and girth of what sukuna was hiding in his faded jeans. lips parting to close over the weeping tip of his thick shaft, and grinning at how there's already sheer, salty drops leaking out.

"fuck, w-wait," sukuna's groaning, with his spiky head of two-toned hair thrown back against your desk chair, "it's sensitive." clacking his sharp teeth around a wanton moan when you tongue at the veins bulging on the sides of his cock, "already feels like 'm gonna –"

"cum?" you offer helpfully, flattening your tongue against him so he throbs, hot and heavy, into your mouth. releasing yourself from his cock with a loud pop! and you're sure glad that your sorority roommates aren't home, for you're not sure how to explain that you're dripping wet yourself, just from sucking off the most infamous, ill-reputed nerd on campus.

"yeah, yeah," sukuna rasps, a heady and low tone that escapes from his chest, "and that would be e-embarrassing, fuck, that's — that's a good spot." sighing as you trail teasing fingers over folded skin, right at the underside of the base of his cock.

"not that embarrassing, 'kuna," you shake your head, loosening the slick strand of saliva that was stringing away from your lips. replacing your mouth with an entirely different type of gloss, and one that you're growing increasingly fond of, "and besides, we got a lotta' time before my roommates come back. plenty of other things we can do, hah."

﹙ 七海 建人 : nanami kento ﹚ ─ economics

"but i jus' think numbers are kind of beautiful, wouldn't you say? like they have their own satisfying figure and precision?"

you smack nanami's chest, leaving a small, cherry hue over your boyfriend's pectorals, "your girlfriend is literally under you, and you're talking about numbers being beautiful."

he gives you an apologetic smile, thick waves of golden hair dampened with the sweat of exertion that was to be expected when he was delivering the sweetest, most loving strokes to your very core. thick, bulging tip kissing your cervix as nanami huffs, "sorry, darling. nothing's more beautiful than my girl, and, heh, yer' figure is the one i love the most."

"that's better," you gasp, feeling him rummage through your swollen pussy. girthy shaft bulging past throbbing, dripping folds as he delivers hit after surefire hit against your g-spot. but then, suddenly, you're frowning, "don't you have class, like, right now, babe?"

nanami squeezes his eyes shut, amber lashes kissing peach-flushed skin. "yeah, had some tutorial," he groans, drawing his cock out of you almost entirely before he's snapping his hips back into you with such force that there's a resounding smack reverberating through his bedroom, "but heh, they don't really need me there. i already know all my shit."

"and you won't get in, i don't know, trouble?"

your boyfriend shakes his head, pushing aside the stack of stock market magazines littered near your head, so he can slam his hand down on the soft quilt. all so nanami can steady himself as he has only one purpose in mind, to make you cum. to make you see such stars of pleasure that you squirt all over his cock. and he can already picture your fucked-out form, hazy and littered with the marks of his loving. and drenched down below.

well, anatomically, it mustn't be possible but at the mere vision, nanami can feel himself harden even more. like his cock is responding to the hypnotising grip that you've got him in. hefty balls tightening further and he's rasping in your ear, "can i —, fuck, can i cum in ya', darling?" desperate and falling apart at the mere idea, at the way your eyes flutter shut in bliss, "only if yer' also wanting me to, i swear. but please –"

"yeah. in me, kento. baby, all yours."

that's all it really takes for thick, stringy wads of hot release to spurt out from nanami's weeping tip. cock releasing strands of gooey seed into your cunt in a way that makes your boyfriend press his forehead against yours, littering a thousand kisses against your fucked-out, smiling lips, "thank you, thank you, thank you, darling. i love you so much. can't even put it into words, but i love you —"

﹙ 伏黒 甚爾 : toji fushiguro ﹚ ─ physical education, kinesiology

"what the fuck did you jus' call me, ma?" toji's got a blunt nail trailing down your spine, running over the curve of your ass, "a nerd?"

you're writhing, "yeah, yeah. i mean, that's what everyone says," and it takes every cell in your body to fight back the inevitable release that toji's bestowing upon you. for you're determined to delay this just a little longer, to feel toji's thick cock slam into you from behind over and over in a way that you never really expected from the grumpy sports major.

and it seems the idea amuses him, for you don't even need to turn around to imagine how his sharp, jade-green eyes must be narrowing at the knowledge of what everyone calls toji fushiguro behind his back. how toji's sharp, shark-like grin must be widening, sharpening knives to sink into your shoulder, "why? 'cause i don't do that stupid, attention-seeking sports shit like everyone else in my degree? 'cause i don't wanna' waste my time on the field or in the locker rooms?"

"t-toji, it's 'cause you always got your damn nose in a book. and i didn't even know you could —," you shriek, feeling his burly forearm come up in front of you, past your bouncing breasts to support your weight as he presses further into you, "i honestly didn't even know you could fuckin' read."

"suchhh a nasty attitude, ma," toji chuckles, and your ass pleasurably stings at the resounding smacks echoing through the (thankfully) empty gymnasium. your lace panties pulled to the sides as you're balanced over the bleachers right in the very corner where the lonesome toji fushiguro prefers to sit, where no one else can bother him.

but damn, if he's not getting off on the idea of taking you so prettily like this. don't get him wrong, toji loves this position. loves how nasty and filthy your pretty arch is when he's swabbing his cock against your pussy. but fuck, he also wishes you were flipped around for him. just so he could press a thumb to your lower lip, and watch your eyes go all silly and crossed for him. while he tacked the thick curl of dark hair around his groin to your sticky, throbbing clit. battered your pretty cunt with his inches until that feisty lil' attitude melted away into sugar and cream.

you moan, such a wanton sound, when toji's thick fingers are climbing up your throat. past your jaw to settle at your mouth. pushing past your lip so you can drool so beautifully for him as he does his level best to at least regretfully silence the sexy sounds falling out of your lips.

"careful, ma," toji shudders, feeling the tight heat of your cunt snatch his soul away, "wanna' keep the volume down so those rocks-for-brains football players don't hear what's going on here. unless, you want them to see how the nerd's practically plowing your brains out, hah."

the resulting clench of your cunt tells toji all that he needs to know, and he has to bite back the furious blush crawling over him, underneath his faded varsity jacket, "oh? that's how it is? well, okay then. hold on."

﹙ 脹相 : choso kamo ﹚ ─ lab medicine, psychology

you know better than to sass choso when he's like this, the night before the final semester exam. see, because the man's got your thighs splayed so prettily out for him. glistening, and dripping all over his bedspread. and to the side, he's got that damn anatomy textbook flipped open.

choso's frustrated, sighing and flicking the pads of his fingers against his tongue to thumb at the sticking pages. rolling his eyes when he isn't able to find the passage that he wants, as if that's your fault. but you don't miss the hungry gleam in the raven-haired man's eyes, the spiky knots atop his head coming loose as he delves right back into his favourite meal. his favourite study snack being your glossy cunt, for he could munch on the slick strands forever.

"bear with me, my love," choso's cooing, trailing a slender, pale finger up your sticky folds until he comes to rest at your clit. tapping the throbbing bud once, "jus' gotta' memorise this, and you're helping me so much."

he's pressing a chaste, quaint kiss to your pulsing clit. that dark mark stretched across his face twitching as he murmurs, "ah, think, choso! right, the clitoral glans has, hmm, 8000 nerve endings. and it leads up to..." choso's drawing slow, teasing circles on your clit and it makes you whine, bucking your hips, "patience, my love. i'll reward you extra special for helpin' me out like this. now, it leads up to the clitoral shaft — and did i tell ya' what the crura is?"

you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you rut against choso's handsome nose for some delicious friction, and he clearly seems eager to indulge you, though he's still lost in academic thought, "right. i guess, baby, you could say the crura are kinda' like the legs for the clitoris. and they extend allll along the pelvic bones."

choso's marvelling the glossy, sheer slick coating his fingers. licking a flat stripe right against your swollen, eager cunt, "and the glans, well, my extended answer needs to mention how they, uh, damn, baby. you're soaked." he's shaking his head again, "i keep getting distracted. the glans — they're the ones with the alpha-delta, and c-fibres, and that's what makes you feel so good. transmitting sensations y'see, i get extra marks for mentioning that."

you hazard a glance to the shining pages of the new textbook that choso's kept on his shelf all semester, "and the, uh, the pudendal reflex? you got a sticky note on that one, babe?"

choso smiles, slowly flicking your clitoral hood in up and down motions, each movement sending simmering pleasure through your groin, "a spinal reflex, m'love. helps with the involuntary muscle contractions, like when i do this —," flatting the pad of his thumb against your clit to run tighter circles against the aching nub, watching as your hips jolt up further against his face. coating the lower half of his features in translucent arousal.

"now, my favourite part," choso says, grinning as he turns his attentions elsewhere, to your dripping entrance pooling such a mess over his sheets. and your boyfriend's tugging at his grey sweatpants, "the grafenberg spot. i don't think my fingers will be enough to stimulate it properly."

[enhard]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚ ✩

sim jaeyun — “use me” (MDNI)

(wrote this just thinking how jake has pretty veiny hands to match his big veiny cock ♡︎)

pairing: bf!s.jy x fem!reader

: you’re pissed at your boyfriend for ignoring you but luckily he knows the best way to help you calm down… using his fingers of course ! but that’s not all

cw: smut, fingering, hand kink, size kink, riding, cockwarming, creampie, squirting, lots of stretching out, pet names, praising, fucking while on call with others, jake is just packing ughh </33

You love your boyfriend, obviously, but you started hating how he spent more time playing with his friends rather than hanging out with you.

Every time he had free time you’d ask him to sleep over at his and he accepted whenever you would ask. However… he would spend his time clicking away at his computer screen, his pretty fingers moving along the keyboard keys.

You’d sit with your arms resting on your knees, curdled up on his bed watching him.

“Hurry through here so we can corner these guys.. come on, faster, faster!” he says, speaking to Heeseung, Jungwon and Sunghoon through his headset. He’s been playing with them for hours now, and you just spend your time listening to him. The blue light from the screen emits onto his glasses, spreading on his whole face.

You scrolled your phone for a bit, but how much more could you scroll really? You desperately needed his attention, you missed his sweet words and his touch.

Without wanting to disturb him, you walk behind his gaming chair, wrapping your arms around his abdomen. He had to watch how he reacted cause the others could hear his every movement. “Oh..hey my love, what’s up?” he says, still focused on the screen. Your mood changes again, seeing how uninterested he is, not even bothering to look at you. You quickly take your hands off him and back off, that move making him look back at you for a split second.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, shooting another enemy.

“Forget it, i’m going home.” you say, the want to stay getting lesser and lesser.

“Wait.. what? what do you mean..?” he says, immediately grabbing his headset to take it off his head. He leaves the keyboard in the middle of the online game, faint sounds of the guys’ screams coming from the headphones.

“I wanna go home.” you look down.

“I’m sorry my love… I was totally ignoring you. I didn’t realise. I’ll leave the game right now.” he gently grabs your hands, looking up at you like a guilty puppy.

You stop him. “I’m just mad at you. How can you invite me over then just.. ignore me like that??” you snap.

He looks down again. “I’m acting so stupid. I’m sorry.. is there any way I can make it up to you?”

As he’s massaging your fingers with his, you look down, noticing the way his joints move. The amount of small veins he has in his hand and how easily you can trace them with your touch. You stare at his slender fingers, his perfect trimmed nails… just getting an idea.

“Jake..” you whisper, pulling him into a soft kiss. As you lean in, he grabs onto one side of your jaw, pulling you closer to him. You almost sit on his lap, before he stands up to make you walk back to his bed. You both make out for a bit, barely getting enough of each other’s lips.

He lays you on his bed, getting on top of you to continue kissing you. It’s just like he knows what you want to forgive him. “Let me make you happy… what do you think?” he smiles softly. You just nod, looking up at him with desperate but determined eyes.

His fingers slyly cross your neck, down your collarbone and down your shirt. He uses one hand to massage your whole chest through your large shirt. He slowly touches you all over, before stopping at your hips, where the shirt ends. he moves his fingers up your shirt, on your abdomen, finally sliding it off you from above your head. Your breasts now fully in his view, he smiles upon looking at them.

“You’re so damn perfect. I love you so much.” he says. his fingers cage your tits with a squeeze, trying to make the best of it with how much time he has until his members realise he’s gone.

“I love you too baby.” you say back shyly, biting your lip after watching his veiny hands touch you all over. His fingers are genuinely perfect, the way his hands are so soft on your plush skin, pretty pink knuckles and hands just a little cold to make you shiver.

He finally moves down to your pants, sliding them off in one move, making you spread your legs a bit so he can take them off. You’re just left in your underwear now, already soaked. You’re waiting for his slender fingers to welcome your pussy with a touch, but he has other plans. Instead, he picks you up in his embrace, legs wrapped around his waist. Your wet underwear leaves an embarrassing stain on his plain white shirt but he doesn’t mind.

He buries his head into your neck while he walks back to the desk. “You’re so wet for me, love.” He says satisfied. “Now you better stay quiet, the mic is on you and… you don’t want them to hear you, do you?” you look at him a bit scared of the situation, but you shake your head. “Good girl, stay quiet for me then.” he reassures.

Jake sits back down on the chair, making you sit on his lap, facing him. He places the mic of the headset right close to you telling the guys that he’s finally back. He puts the headset on one of your ears, letting you hear him aswell with the other. Now his friends are just talking about random things while you hear them with one ear, and your boyfriend’s voice in the other. You stay completely quiet but he makes a move, leaning in to your face to tell his members that he’s going to be away from his keyboard for a bit again.

After he says that, he leans back into his chair and immediately rips your underwear off. He makes a big hole in them not even bothering to take them off. Jake shyly touches your sensitive clit with the bud of his thumb, tracing small circles around it. He looks at what he’s doing the entire time, admiring how wet you could’ve gotten for him in this time.

He pulls his fingers away to shove them in your mouth, making you lick and suck on his fingers for a minute or so. The fingers get coated in your saliva, and he pulls them out to continue touching your clit. You succeed staying quiet, grabbing his shoulders with both your hands. He picks up his pace, beginning to squeeze the sensible skin, pinching it and dragging it with his fingers. “So good.” He whispers. You close your mouth shut, trying your hardest not to make a sound, the guys’ voices echoing through your head.

After he’s done abusing your clit, he moves down to your folds, touching all over them with his wet fingers. He stops at your desperate hole, slowly pushing one finger inside. You close your eyes, your lips parting at the sudden feeling. Your body jerks up automatically as you let out a heavy breath.

As your eyelids connect, they crush two sweet tears in between them.

Jake reaches for the mic, holding it in his palm so the sound muffles. “I barely shoved my finger inside, princess. Stay still.” He says, moving his fingers slowly in and out of you. Your juices run down his knuckles as you sit there on his lap shamefully. You grab onto his shoulder blades, trying your best to stay quiet.

He takes his hand away from the mic, placing it on your thigh instead. He sneaks another finger in, making you leave out a small sound. He looks up at you with his glistening puppy eyes, smiling ever so slightly with the corners of his mouth. He picks up his pace significantly, the feeling of his fingers so deep inside your core making you want to scream right there. If there’s one thing you love about your boyfriend’s physical appearance it HAS to be his hands.

They’re so soft, perfect for holding or.. you know, feeling.

He takes really good care of his hands, specially for you. He makes sure he stays on the top of his hygiene mostly for moments like these. You slowly lean in to give him a quiet kiss, muffling a moan that was forming in the back of your throat. The buds of his fingers rub against the best spot as he curls them inside, making you leave out a louder sound. Luckily his members were preoccupied with the game and didn’t really pay attention to what they heard.

Jake’s eyebrows raised slightly, speeding up even more. You start shaking your head, barely being able to contain yourself anymore. Your poor underwear is stuck to your skin, almost fully wet against it. “J…Jake.. I can’t please.. i… please…” you plead in a faint whisper.

“What’s that, love? tell me clearly.” he says, clearly knowing what you’re about to say but he still loves teasing you for it.

“Gonna cum…. oh m… fucking days. Please. Let me.. cum..” you whisper so slightly again, the sound barely hitting his ears.

“Keep quiet though, i’m letting you finish don’t worry.” he keeps going, massaging your thigh with his other hand. You immediately feel the knot in your stomach unleash with a large gush that spreads down his fingers and onto his sweatpants. You cover your mouth with your hand really tightening your palm on your face.

He smiles in satisfaction, pulling his fingers out to shove them inside his mouth. He licks his fingers to be able to taste you on his tongue, and he finally grabs onto your ass. He gives it a little playful slap before grinding you on him. You manage to calm your high down just to focus on him. You look down at his bulge forming in his now wet stained pants.

Jake has always been hard to take, in other words, he’s just packing. It never demotivated you to take him whole, no matter how much he stretched you out. Even his half-hard dick is hard to grab with one hand. That’s why when you slide his sweatpants off, you smile at him before barely wrapping one hand around his cock. You lazily stroke him to get him rock hard, your wet pussy just patiently waiting right next to it.

“Are you gonna be able to take it?” he looks at you understanding, knowing how before you would end up so stretched out after. You nod your head, sure of your actions this time.

“I can.” you reply. Once he’s fully hard, you trace a finger on the veins on his dick. Each and every one. You lick your lips before letting out a string of saliva fall down his cock, lubricating it a bit before positioning his tip on your hole. You take a deep breath as you sit on him slowly. He stretches you out more and more, and he insists on slowing everything down for you but you were so desperate to have him inside you that you just didn’t care anymore.

He keeps telling you to stop for yourself, to pull out if it’s too much. Instead you shush him, leaning your head back as you let yourself down on him. When you finally take him whole, your body shakes slightly at the feeling. You feel so full right now, so stretched. But there’s no way you’re pulling away.

His members start wondering where he is, and how they keep hearing breathing as he’s not in the game and he’s been missing for so long already. You panic a little upon hearing them ask about Jake but instead you just close your eyes, feeling his tip in your deepest spot.

“Oh fucks… sake. You’re so.. damn huge.” you whisper cry to him. He giggles a bit, only looking at you the whole time. “Let me see you move on it.” he grabs onto your waist gently.

You suck on your bottom lip as you sit back up, then back down on him. You start off with small bounces and somehow it never gets easier, no matter how many times you’ve both done this before. You do go slow for your own good, and he lets you go at your own pace.

He admires your pretty face contorting in all ways to his dick, but that just might be his favourite part. He loves how you react. You try your best picking up your pace, figuring he might’ve gotten bored already.

But it was the exact opposite, he didn’t mind, he wanted you to feel comfortable. You grind yourself on him a bit faster and he lets out a groan. “You’re so tight around me.. sweetheart..” he thinks he hasn’t stretched you out enough beforehand. “We can.. do it..” you say, already out of breath.

You spread your legs a bit more, releasing a bit of tension on him. You succeed bouncing on his big cock, whilst using his shoulders as handles. “You’re taking it so good..” he whispers. You go faster at his praises.

He’s been stretching you out for a while now, and it definitely got easier over time. The slight discomfort turned into satisfying pleasure for you. His swollen tip hits your g-spot every single time, making you want to cum right there. However, he’s been wanting to finish ever since you started. You feel so good wrapped around him he’s surprised he hasn’t let out a moan yet.

He rests his head on the chair enjoying your every move on him. You go faster again, getting closer to cumming again. Your puffy cunt is crying at this point, while you let out a slight moan with every bounce.

At this point his friends might’ve caught on, but you couldn’t care less, you just needed him and that’s it. You keep going for a bit before, before rolling your eyes back to cum. “I’m— again… I… oh m… Jake..” you struggle.

You don’t get to say anything else because you instantly finish again, your thighs shaking on top of him. You moan ever louder than before and your squirt runs down his legs now. He bites his lower lip, making you keep going with his palms on your ass. Your tired body keeps bouncing on him, and after a few more bounces, he cums all deep inside you. His dick twitches in sync with his moans after pulling out. His cum slowly pours out of you and onto the chair. You both sit like that for a few minutes to regain your thoughts, but instead he just grabs your ass again, shoving you back onto his cock.

A bit of cum shoves back into you too, a white ring forming around his base. You wrap your arms around his neck, as well as your head buried deep into it. You give his hot skin multiple kisses with heavy breaths. You both end up sweaty, breathing your lungs out. He keeps his dick inside you, without moving you or anything. He moves his chair back to his desk, getting that headset off you. Before placing it on his head, he gives your exposed ear a kiss. “Such a good girl, you took me so well.” he says before putting his headset back on and fixing his mic to his mouth.

“Hey guys, sorry I was gone for so long. Just wanted to make my girl happy.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting upset when my mom insists on clipping my nails?

I (adult male) still live with my mother because of finances/personal situations that make me unable to earn my own living. For the most part, this is fine. However, there's one thing that bugs me: she insists on trimming my nails for me.

I know it sounds weird, and it is. She's been trimming my nails since I was little, and I've always hated it. But now I'm an adult, and I don't need her to trim my nails for me, but every two weeks or so, she insists on doing it anyway. I'll admit that I have coordination issues that make things like that difficult for me to accomplish on my own, and hygiene isn't my strong suit either. But I don't need (or want) her to keep trimming my nails for me. How do I tell her to stop?

I've tried to explain it to her, but it's like I'm speaking another language or something. I've tried more direct methods, like pulling my hand away when she tries to bring out the clippers, but then she just says I'm being childish and it'll be over faster if I just let her do it, and that her dogs (she has two, they both hate me) are more well-behaved than I am. And then she trims my nails anyway, no matter how many times I tell her I hate it!

So yesterday, I finally got fed up. And right as she grabbed my hand and tried to come in with the clippers, I pulled my hand away and jabbed her with my quills! And then I curled up in a ball, so she couldn't get to my paws at all. She tried to reach for my paws, but I just poked her again.

My mom got annoyed, and said we'll have to try again tomorrow since clearly I'm in a bad mood. She seemed upset, and I feel a little bad for poking her so much since usually we have a good relationship. So tumblr, am I the asshole?

Pic of me so you can see that I'm a grown man that doesn't need his nails trimmed!

What are these acronyms?

[lostinlovingrevery]

Logan and his... "Quirks"

Everyone is a lil weird. Logan is no exception

Some nsfw headcanons below the cut, it gets weird yall. some are tame. the rest are questionable. You're gonna ask me why i was thinking about it. you don't want to know

he CANNOT sit farthest away from the door. he has to be between the door and you. yknow in case of threats

feel like he would hate microwaves. idk why, i think he would extremely distrust the idea of food being heat up by radiation (Even if it wouldn't affect him?). he cooks everything by hand.

Don't let him catch you heating your food by microwave. He'll get pissy. then he'll make your food by scratch

uses phrases that were popular like 100+ years ago that no one knows. you've had to google some of them to figure out what the hell he was talking about

he taps his fingers alot. against a table, his leg, on you. it's an anxious thing

he doesn't laugh much but when he does it's loud, hes the epitomy of the word "guffaws" bc he's so loud. most of the time when you hear him "laugh" its a quiet chuckle. it's quite joyous to hear Logan across the mansion laughing

logan, as much as he acts like a wild man, is fairly neat. like, weirdly neat about his stuff. well- stuff he cares about. his jacket, his cigars, beer, maybe a few things you gave him. he doesn't need much.

this one isn't so weird, more cute- but he loves when you pet his head. only when it's just you two though

his nails grow faster than an avg person. He constantly has to clip them. BUT he does at least make sure to clean them up

i should add that logans is obv known for calling everyone bub, and gives nicknames to everyone

(he'll call you every petname in the book)

has to have his bed made in the mornings. he gets weirdly cranky if he or you don't make the bed and it's messy when going to bed that night (the man leaves his dirty laundry all over the room but doesn't like his bed not being made???)(nesting...)

hates the smell of incense (too strong) but he doesn't mind a few of the vanilla smelling candles. or the outdoorsy type ones

def will pick up new hobbies at random and then drop them (ahem i do that to)

doesn't finish his beer. he'll have a little left and go open a new one anyway

he acts like he's so gruff but he's actually like so polite about things when in someones house/the mansion. it takes you aback how nice he'll be. (x2 logan was just a bit stress don't worry about him raiding bobbys parents fridge)

ill add his fear of flying in here too

honestly he probably just doesn't like heights in general. he'll do it, go in tall buildings, planes, all of that (as well as we all seen) but don't catch him sightseeing out of the 70th floor of the skyscraper yall are in

he probably likes to wear all those layers because he doesnt let his hair grow out like he could. have you seen how much hair he can get? he keeps himself trimmed for you (if you want to call it that). the layers protects from the cold he gets from not being a hairy beast (let him be hairy)

oral fixation... i'll put this in nsfw

this isn't really weird...but he's able to sit in silence for a long time. just watching the view (you)

hes not an early bird. he'll get pissy if you are, because he wants you in bed with him. (people gotta work logan...)

leaves a clean plate of food. he doesnt like waste.

likes to grab you. hes gotta be holding onto you. even if he's single he's gotta be doing something (smoking, tapping his foot, leaning on someone), when he's with you though, you're his grounding.

NSFW

will drool during sex. he tries to control it. sometimes you feel too good though-

gets incredibly horny after missions. good luck.

also when after he goes into a burst of rage. good luck with that too

honestly he just has a high sex drive. he's a bit of a freak. it's not every time but rarely does he not get hard around you- at the scent of you

The moment you wake up in the morning, logan tells you "your period started" before you even have a chance to even fully wake up, only to realize that indeed you did start your period

he could smell it

dude is really intense about smelling

when it comes to you though he's REALLY intense about it. you know how dogs are when they smell you after you come home. logan is no different

can and WILL smell your armpits and feet if he gets the chance. it may gross you out but shits heavenly to him because thats where you smell the strongest. if you don't let him smell you he'll go for the laundry

your neck too

the man leaks so much pre-cum just at the thought of you. you'd think he came right there in his pants

does not care about you walking into him in the bathroom. he has no shame

honestly id think he'd like footjobs. not because he's got a feet thing- but like feet is where your strongest smells come from and if you...do that. his thang will smell like you

will eat you out and do you on your period btw. no shame

i don't think logan will say no to much in bed, except for the really disgusting ones, or the ones inviting other people in. he's not going to share you, or himself.

definitely has a thing about mounting you. he doesn't do it all the time but sometimes he'll lose himself and next thing you know is biting your neck and thrusting you doggy style, grunting and whining, and he won't stop till he's satisfied. the others have expressed worry over the deep teeth marks in your neck (Is he trying to maul you? - Scott)

doesn't like washing the bed sheets after you two do your thing. will complain but you have to bc you both are fairly active together in that department and you do not need your bedsheets become solid like rock. he just likes the scent :(

loves it when you lick his hands/knuckles

i think we all agree, the claws COME OUT when he cums. hes extremely careful about his hand placement bc of this.

back to oral fixation. if he doesn't have a cigar, toothpick, gum, his next best thing is you.

will SUCK on your skin. hard.

This is all i got for now, some probably really aren't a quirk but my brain was just typing what I could think of...might make more. Feel free to reblog and add your own!!

pain kink. a bad one. we all agreed on this i believe.

You know how animals have displays to attract mates? Logan is no different. When hes in the mood, hell puff himself out to you, do things he thinks youll like. I mean, i suppose avg males do this too but logan gets repetitive over it until you notice.

[sea-lanterns]

what if we muzzle yae in the hybrid au? or muzzle.. arlecchino, maybe? how do you think they’d react?

-🐆

All the animal hybrids hate being muzzled. Vet! Reader would never muzzle the hybrids unless absolutely necessary, so on the rare occasion that she does, Miko and Arlecchino would go berserk.

Miko is thrashing around, trying to get the muzzle off her before the Vet could touch her, meanwhile Arlecchino is snarling with large strands of drool leaking from the bars of her mask. The muzzle is only used as a precaution when you’re doing something they dislike (like trimming their nails or removing a thorn), and once it’s over, boy are they angry. They’ll be bearing their teeth at you before lunging at you to pin you down, their pheromones flooding the room, as their anger triggers a rut-like response.

Their teeth gnash at the bars until you finally undo the clasps and set them free. The moment the muzzle is off though, Miko/Arlecchino are too lost in their anger to go back to their enclosures. Their teeth rip at your scrubs and tear the weak fabric away until you’re left nude on the floor.

Well, this isn’t your first rodeo when dealing with feral hybrids. You knew they would have to release their pent up energy in some way 😅

[delicrieux]

…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ chapter summary. some things in life are unbearable, and in yours? they’re titled gojo satoru and trying to ruin you.

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

genre. enemies to lovers, ‘my bully is actually in love w me,’ comedy, light-hearted romance, aged up characters (in college), gojo being touchy bcs boundaries do not exist to my king

warnings for this chapter. gojo is being particularly troublesome

wc. 3k

author’s note: HOW ARE WE FEELING JJK NATION?!

ੈ✩‧₊˚

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | twny masterlist | next >

CHAPTER 1: imagine minding your own business undisturbed omg

tokyo jujutsu tech is big. real, real big. but no matter where you go, he's there.

gojo satoru has made it his life's mission to relentlessly annoy you for no apparent reason. it was hate at first sight, or something equally despicable as that. for three years now, you’ve had to endure jeers raging from your sorcerer's ability to the size (or lack thereof, as you’re often reminded) of your ass. yes, that does count as harassment. no, gojo does not care.

you don’t know why he can't just leave you alone. he seems to delight in your anger and misery. they say you need to stand up to your bullies and give them a taste of their own medicine, but that does not work on gojo. the angrier – the better. he wants a reaction. he wants attention. he wants your despair served on a platter for him to lick clean and mouth, “delicious, thank you, more please.”

it's the silence and ignoring he can't take. it's like a personal insult. some deep rooted fear you hope he'll choke on.

gojo claims to hate you quite loudly. boisterously, even. wears his spite like a badge of honor, keeps it nice and clean pinned to the lapel of his uniform.

yet everywhere you go, he’s there – by your locker, outside your dorm room, on every mission you’re sent on, and always in the places you frequent. it's not exactly stalking, but it's like...gojo's way of being just as clingy without getting called out. you have called him a stalker. he laughed, pointed, and said, "what kinda idiot would even want to stalk someone like you?”

out the women's showers, you waddle to the common area. there's a vending machine, and you’d like a bubbly drink to refresh yourself. first, from the moist heat of the showers and then from the humid summer just outside the window. it’s peaceful, despite the temperature. the water still clings to your skin.

you just to locate and rejoice the last bottle of cola before you feel eyes on the back of your neck. of course. of course he's here, and you didn’t even hear him. of course.

"ugh," you groan aloud, fingers stalling against the cold buttons

"your ugliest pj's?" you startle from how loud he is, right next to your ear. too close. he’s always too close.

he makes sure to whistle long enough to make you squirm away. fuck him, he towers over you. can’t see his eyes underneath those super expensive designer glasses, but you know they keen for your reaction. once, to shoko, he said he bought them because they looked cool. unprompted, uninvited, unwanted, you chirped that they looked dumb as hell.

"whaddya got there?" his fingers press into your spine, and maybe he uncovered a new technique to turn you into stone. there is absolutely no personal space in this equation. he has none, and he has no concept of invading yours. with anyone else, maybe you wouldn't mind.

keep cool. you’re cool. stone-faced, unmovable. you don’t care if he’s trying to claw into your marrow with his neatly trimmed nails.

you hesitate for a single moment before you punch in the number. the machine whizzes and thunk, “fuck off, please,” you say, bending down to snatch your drink. he hums, sounding too satisfied for your comfort.

"you're gonna fuck yourself up on all that carbonation. never thought you could get any more hideous, but alas!"

you turn to him, and he has the good sense to move back a step to avoid the mouth that’ll insult him. there's a twitch to his brow, and an ease to his smile as he regards you leisurely. the latter is almost never a good thing. it means he's really enjoying this interaction.

if you shake your cola enough, maybe you’ll be super lucky and the spray will land on his face. now that's an idea. but even if you caught him off guard, his cursed technique would likely be in motion and the soda wouldn't touch him. how troublesome. a waste of a drink. you decides against it.

gojo leans on the vending machine. his own personal attempt cower her into submission. for what exactly? no one knows. maybe getou would have an idea, if he’s merciful enough to share. when you don’t say anything or flinch away like ijichi often does, he sighs heavily.

"aw, are ya still mad about last time? that was days ago. c'monnn, kami-”

"don't say my name."

"i forgot. kawakami-chan doesn't like me, right?"

you thought about switching schools. kyoto tech is also very good. you’d be at peace there. utahime hates gojo just as much as you do, and you have already bonded closely over this shared distain.

it's likely gojo would transfer after you. just to spite you.

"don't you have anything better to do than harass me?" you question.

the most infuriating thing about gojo, and about this situation, is that he’s happy. when you’re like this – huffing, shoulders taut, and frowning – he seems to be enjoying himself the most.

"don't pretend like you don't like it, kami-chan."

this asshole has a god complex. he seems to truly believe the earth would have ended up in a heap of smoldering ruin if not for him. to be fair, he's probably right, but still. you would first bite of your tongue than admit to that. you have considered a lobotomy to get the idea out of your head, but in the joke that is your life, gojo would likely be holding the orbitoclast.

you resent him so much you find yourself burning in his presence. it's like he took a personal class to master the art of pestering.

"doesn’t this ever get boring?"

he laughs, pressing a hand to his cheek as if embarrassed, "i never get bored of you, kami-chan. when are you coming back to the field? been too busy hanging out with losers to do some missions?"

"how pathetic must you be," you snark, "to be thinking of me when i'm not there to torment."

gojo ignores you and moves to tug at your top. the audacity has you reeling, and you attempt to smack his hand away only for it to be stopped at the last second, "yup," he inspects the quality of the fabric, his teeth flashing and making his already smug features look haughtier, "cheap.”

you open the can so forcefully the contents fizzle and spray on your hand. gojo grins so hard you expect his face to crack in half. if only.

"can i have some?”

"stop touching me," you hiss, trying to slap him away again, "why are you always touching me?"

gojo sidesteps. the dodge and dash he does, coupled with his agility, is incredible. had you not seen his many victories in battle, or spent any amount of time with him, you might be enamored. impressed, even.

perhaps that lobotomy is still an option.

"just," his arms dart out to pin you to the vending machine and you immediately aim a high kick to his thigh. but, of course, his infinity protects him. bastard. he doesn't let up though, and those hands slide along the expanse of your thighs until they meet your sides, leaving a warm trail, "makin' sure i can see all of these pores up close."

gojo, as disgusting as you often think he is, does always have a bit of honesty in his insults. you want to scream, maybe, because your pores are fine. great, even, you’ve invested into a new skincare routine, and it’s clearly working. it even works on shoko’s dark circles. he’s so full of shit, it's nauseating.

"fuck off," you shove his hands away and gojo lets you, surprisingly.

"really gross," he comments.

"you're the gross one. self-absorbed stalker."

gojo, an absolutely foul looking monster if you’ve ever met one, waggles a finger at you.

"careful, kami-chan," there's no trace of warning, only amusement, "we wouldn't wanna accidentally bump into each other too many more times."

his meaning isn't lost on you.

you hold up a finger, too. right in his face. pause. take a sip of your soda. there's no reason you should indulge this maniacal sadist in any capacity. gojo has an aura. an attitude. he comes off as unrelenting, and for all intents and purposes, he is unrelenting. in and out your life, an unshakable constant, with a lopsided grin and piercing eyes. you hate him.

you try to sidestep and flee to your room, but he blocks you. step. block. step. block. step block. stepblockstepblockstepblockstepblock-

"god! you're fucking infuriating," you explode.

you want to clock him, strangle him, castrate him, kick his head through the concrete. he's ruining a perfectly nice evening. what is it about you that he just loathes to see, so much so that it drives him to see you hurt all the time? is he truly so bad off? does he live a miserable and joyless existence?

"thanks," he looks genuinely honored, "but how'd you come to the conclusion, huh? after a little brainstorming session or-"

"what do you want?"

"lately?" gojo taps his chin, his tongue poking out, "seemed like you needed some space, so i just waited around here till you were done."

christ, he really is a stalker. you’re starting to worry he's like, actually insane.

"but now we can hang out!”

"i'm going to bed," you declare.

gojo ignores your announcement. gojo always ignores whatever you have to say.

"where we heading? your place or mine?"

"you are not going anywhere with me!"

he reaches out to flick your temple. it's so juvenile it takes you by surprise. your hands immediately fly up to protect yourself.

"huh," his face softens as if you’re this small, pathetic thing. not pity exactly, but definitely a worrisome expression, "look,” he snaps his fingers, “look. look,” he snaps them again and you will tear your hair out in 83 seconds if he doesn’t go away immediately, “we both gotta take a mission, right? might as well go together."

"go with suguru,"

gojo sighs dramatically and his whole upper body collapses, like he's pretending you kicked his shin. you reel back a bit from the proximity.

"mmm, but suguru’s so uptight lately," he comments. that’s good. getou suguru, ever the diligent one, was the first person in your sorcery class who made you feel welcomed. you quite like him, but the fact that his best friend is gojo implies there's something deeply wrong with him. you really don’t want to know what.

"go with shoko then," you state.

"shoko's just..." his arms jerk violently as if he's pretending to smash a plate, "not really on board with my mission types lately. says she can’t leave our only doctor since the patients are dying before they have a chance to enter the trauma room."

sad news for shoko, but your mind works quick.

"go alone," you smile, tilting your head to the side. the motion seems to catch his interest, "and don't come back."

gojo clicks his tongue, clearly peeved. victory. you relish this tiny bit of triumph. he starts to walk away and you watch him retreat, hopefully from your life, "i can't,"

"no way you've fallen so far."

"suguru told me to check in with someone before going on my own. it'll just make him and yaga-sensei super worried!"

"oh no," you chime, "i think you should go alone. and die."

he laughs, "come on," a pause, "it'll be fun! team-bonding and shit."

team-bonding and shit is you having a cola and reading a magazine. not fighting alongside the man who torments you like you’re some sort of pet: ‘kami-chan, do a split,' ‘kami-chan, do a roll,' ‘kami-chan, how big is your cup size again?'

the most effective way to hurt him is silence. you turn your eyes away and hum. this must be done delicately. if he catches even a whiff of your intention to flee, he’ll barge right after you. get you in a headlock and make you cry, because maybe he’s grown demented and will enjoy the sight of your tears.

with as much ease as your taunt muscles can muster, you casually pad in the direction of your room. he hasn't tried to tear down your door yet, but that's likely because the senseis would have to reprimand him.

gojo won't leave you be though, will he? as if it's a struggle to keep pace with you, he follows closely and peppers you with requests:

"come with me."

"shut up."

"we can grab dinner and-"

"you can shut up."

gojo sings, "team-building exercise, you're supposed to make a comrade's wishes come true, so come with-"

"i'll kill myself if force me to go with you. stop begging. it's so lame."

he laughs so loudly and unexpectedly that you jolt. this asshole thinks your threat is baseless. it isn’t. you’ll do it, or so god help you. you aren’t one to bitch out on anything, and maybe that’s why he’s so intent about this.

you wish he'd just give up, but it's highly unlikely. he's stubborn, and you aren’t enough to bend him.

"are you implying you'd kill yourself in front of me? for what? to mess with me?"

your face is very serious when you say, "yeah."

"shit, and you expect me to not want to see that? sorry babe, i'll have to tag along," he grins wickedly and you find yourself fighting down a spring at nausea at the sickly pet name. that’s a new development.

you move to stomp away, but he's right there to cage you to the wall. no, please, you’re at your limit. you might crumble into a heap on the floor and never rise again, even if he consistently poked at you for days.

"come," his glasses slide down his nose a bit and you’re met with gleaming, impossible, revoltingly beautiful blue eyes, "on," and he leans down. this close his infinity is gone, and you can feel the hard planes of his muscles, "a mission with me."

"kill me," you bite out.

you don’t like this, nor the rising fluster or the scent of his cologne. he always smells fresh, even in the summer months where sweat sticks like second skin. the cool wall against your back has your skin prickling. maybe this is a new advanced torture method. much more effective than waterboarding, which you would willingly take if that meant he’d let you go.

why must he be so tall? the sunlight bleeding from the windows douses his hair in a halo. it’s completely deceptive to how absolutely giddy he looks. your breathing picks up. what a nightmare. you’d attempt to knee him again if your limbs weren’t suddenly immobile.

he leans forward and murmurs, "is that an invitation for some freaky shit? cuz i like where we are now."

"gross!" you lean back as far as possible.

"i knowwww," he's undeterred by your snappiness, "seriously," he tries, "what else are you doing tonight, huh?" and you wonder why he's getting closer as your neck protests, "don’t tell me," there's a lilt to his voice you don’t trust, "you afraid you can't handle me?"

"is sexual harassment on your daily agenda?" you bite.

he moves away slightly, looking perplexed, as if you’ve given the world's toughest question. his posture becomes defensively slouched. a frown pushes his brows together and for once, the smooth talker has no quip or response.

you’re not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth and scramble.

"hey, hey, you didn’t answer!” he calls out, rushing after you, "hey! kami-chan, where'd your manners go? i need a clear answer."

damn pride. damn self-respect. you’re fleeing.

gojo doesn't let you get away that easy. your path to sanctuary is obstructed again as gojo halts you by plucking at your shoulder. you shake yourself off like a wet cat and bail. yes, you’ve resorted to running, but your room is just within reach.

"why are you running?!" his whine echoes down the empty hall, "answer the question!"

just a bit more and-

he catches up with you and hauls you up by the armpits, spinning, laughing. you squirm, and there goes your drink, your damned, tasty drink. all his antics have been on the short side, but he's never done this before: cradle you against himself, as if he was going to play catch with you.

"let go, creep!"

"creep?!" his voice is scandalized but still mirthful, "for all my gentlemanliness, huh?!"

he tosses you and you can barely right yourself with a solid landing. that's new too, the physical handling. why today of all days has he decided to pick your fights with his hands? does it make you less immune? why are you wondering? you should be running.

"and anyways, where'd your manners go huh, huh, hu-uh? no thank you when a nice gentlemanly guy takes the time of his day, the greatest guy, the-"

you might go insane. actually snap and go coo coo coconuts. kill everyone. this might be the beginning of your villain origin story. your personal vendetta to kill gojo satoru.

"seriously?!" he yells, and you open your eyes (you don’t remember closing them. it's probably a last resort sort of deal. if you can't see gojo, gojo isn’t real), and gojo's much, much, closer.

"would you mind-" you hiss.

"really," he chides, not an ounce of his good humor on his face, and you’re unable to tell if he's taunting or sincere, "all those classes you went to when you were little, and you still can't pay attention to the first thing a good guy says? do i have to spell out your obligations for you?!"

"would you kindly go fuck yourself and allow me to exist in peace?!" you shriek.

a door down the hall opens, and someone, maybe a fellow student or maybe a teacher or maybe someone unrelated all together, pops their head out the crack of their bedroom. you see this in slow-motion, watch a silhouette tilt their head and stare. it's so stupid it could be considered a scene from a comedy.

"would you two keep it the hell down already!?" your would-be-rescuer screams.

gojo glances to the side, unbothered but maybe curious. you run. before gojo can pick up his wits, you slam the door to your room open, lock it, and even fumble a deadbolt for added assurance. your room is dark save for a nightlight plugged into the corner.

your legs are shaking. you feel like throwing up. you’ve never been so terrified in your entire life.

the news reaches you via a text from shoko a good few hours later. gojo goes on the mission alone.

'please die please die please die please die,' you pray.

he returns an hour later, unharmed and cheery.

[thehorrorgirlstyles]

Brotherly Love

Eddie Munson x Stepsister!reader

Summary: You move in with your mom's new husband, only to find out that he has an annoyingly hot son.

Warnings: Swearing, derogatory words, dark themes, hate kinda sex, 18+ content, Stepbrother!Eddie, sexual themes, a little Steve Harrington x reader, cheating, rich people stuff, kinda enemies to lovers

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"Ugh this is so stupid, why do we have to move... he should be the one to leave his house" You groan out.

"I already told you sweetie, Dean has work in his part of town.. he can't leave his job to move over here" Your mom replies as she finishes boxing up the last of the kitchen utensils.

Your mom met some guy on one of her work trips and now they're getting married. You think she's totally lost it having only known this guy for three months. Ever since your dad left with some skank a year ago, your mother has been absolutely devstated and wanting a new man. It's not because she missed your dad, but because she's afraid it will look bad to all her rich and snobby friends.

Now she's agreed to marry some guy she barely knowns to gain back the respect of her colleagues. Which is a HUGE mistake. She's totally ruining your life, making you move an hour away to live with some complete stranger who she thinks she loves! You built a life for yourself here, I mean an hour away isn't that far..you could always drive back, but still your boyfriend lives here!

"So its okay that Dean has work, but what about me?... I mean all my friends are here and what about your job too?" You saying sealing the box with tape.

"Honey its only an hour away I'm sure your friends can spend a few weekends with us.. Dean has a very huge house... Oh and I'm quitting my job" She says picking up the box and walking away.

"What the Fuck?.. What do you mean you're quitting, I mean isn't this to show that you have another husband and you're better than everyone else?.. You did this for your job.. Did you not?!" You follow after her.

"Honey, watch your language.. Steve won't want to marry someone who has a filthy mouth" She looks at you and sets the box by the front door.

"Dean has more than enough money to take care of us I won't need that job with those snobby little whores anymore" She smiles at you and walks upstairs to grab the last of the boxes.

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After saying your goodbyes to your friends and your boyfriend, against your will, your mom insisted that a taxi drive you to your new house, saying that she didn't want to ruin her nails..whatever that means.

"Why can't you be alone mom, do you seriously need another man ruining your life..this is like what the fourth one?" You say looking out the window of the car.

"Sweetie I'll have you know that I actually love Dean, he is everything that we need to become the perfect family.. now hush were almost there" She pats your leg, motioning for you to sit tight and be quiet. Perfect family my ass.

__________________________________________

When you arrive at your new house, it's just what you'd expect from your mom. A gated mansion with three floors. The bushes are neatly trimmed and the grass is mowed. There are fountains out front and rose vines litter the walls.

"It's a little old fashion don't you think?" You look at your mom who is bursting with excitement. You roll your eyes at her.

The door opens up and Dean comes out to greet you both. "Darling you look beatuilful...oh and Y/n lovely to see you again" He gives your mother a kiss on the check and smiles at you. You nod your head and walk into the house.

"Your welcome to pick any room on the second floor, your mother and I will be on the third..Oh and just don't go into the room by the first bathroom, that's my son's" He motions you to follow him up the stairs.

This guy has a son?! Your mom didn't tell you about this. Fucking Great!

"Some of your things have been shipped over already, but the other ones are still in processing, if you need anything there's a small shop just about a ten minute drive from here.. my driver, Ted, can take you" He says while showing you and your mom the second floor.

"Thanks." You reply, not looking at him.

"Okay, well then dear... shall we?" He takes your mother's hand and leaves you on the second floor to pick out a room.

_______________________________________

A couple hours later, you're left alone to fix up your new room. It's big, VERY big. There's a king size bed in the middle and a full size walk in closet, with a bathroom that has a tub, a FUCKING HOT TUB. While you could get use to this life-style, you miss your actual home.

It's around ten at night when you decide to call your boyfriend. "Steve, I miss you this place sucks, there's like literal fucking maids and cooks and shit, I feel like I'm living in some old timey palace and not the good kind, the one where there's a dungeon with blood splattered on the walls."

He laughs at your response, "Babe, I promise I'll see you soon and when I do, we can try out that new toy I got you."

"Oh yea.. and what exactly would you do to me with that toy" You say, moving your hands toward your panties.

"Well first, I'd get you nice and wet.. using my tongue. Then I'd stick a finger or two inside, if you could handle it." You hear him unbuckle his jeans.

"Which you can because you're my dirty girl, aren't you Y/n?" He asks.

"Yes, I'm your dirty girl" You moan out toying with your clit, as you envision him sucking on it.

"That's right baby, just for me..moan my name pretty girl" You hear him jerking himself off over the phone.

"ahh~ Steve!" You yell out, working your clit faster.

"Then, after your wet enough, I'd stick the little thing inside your hole, putting it on the highest setting..You'll be begging for me to let you cum, but I'll make you wait until I'm finshed fucking your mouth" You hear his breathing increase as he goes on.

"Please, please Steve I want it arghhh~" You finally cum, clenching down on your fingers. You hear Steve moan out your name with a finally pump as he cums.

"That's my girl"

You hung up the phone after saying goodnight and go to wash off your hands, when you see something from behind your cracked door. You stop your movements, only moving your head to look through the crack from your spot by the bed. As you try to move toward the door, the dark figure runs off. What the fuck? You open the door and look out the hall, seeing the door by the bathroom shut close. It's Dean's son.

____________________________________

The next morning you get ready and head downstairs for breakfast, when you collide with a hard figure. You look up and see a long-dark haired tattooed man with piercings. The complete opposite from Steve.

"Watch where you're going" He scoffs going to walk in the opposite direction. Who the hell does he think he is?!

"I know you were watching me" You speak up, turning toward him.

He stops in his tracks, his back facing you. "I don't know what you're talking about" He turns around and faces you, his arms crossing.

"Don't play dumb with me, you were watching me last night, when I was touching myself.." You lower your voice.

"Now I don't know how much you saw, but I have a boyfriend so don't get any ideas" You cross your arms back.

"Trust me, you're not my type princess" He laughs at you walking away.

"Excuse me I'm EVERYONES type and YOU were the one watching me!...YEAH YOU, I bet you liked it, perving on me like a freak!" You yell after him. What an asshole.

___________________________________________

For the next few days he purposely annoys the shit out of you. He used one of your nice shirts to wipe the sweat off his back after he worked out. He threw his dirty underwear in your basket of CLEAN clothes. And he bought home some chick the other day and she was so fucking loud you couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. You swear he's annoying you every chance he gets, like he's getting off on it and it's completely working, which is annoying you even more.

"Mom I cannot live here anymore, Dean's son is a child, a literal fucking child, I hate him!" You yell out.

"Shhh, lower your voice." Your mom says grabbing your arm to pull you outside, just when Dean walks in.

"I heard what you said and I'm sorry that Eddie hasn't been the most welcoming..I will talk to him" He apologies and walks away.

Your mom shakes her head, "Please Y/n do not ruin this for me..for us" She lets you go and follows after Dean.

So that little shits name is Eddie, you think to yourself.

___________________________________________________

A few weeks go by and both you and Eddie have been messing with each other. You hate him and he hates you, which isn't ideal for your mother's "Perfect family", but you cannot stand the guy, even if you tried.

Steve, however, is finally able to come over this weekend and you need to make sure that Eddie won't do or say anything to ruin it.

You knock on his door, but he doesn't answer...so you walk in anyways. You're going to tell this idiot to stay away whether he chooses to listen or not.

When you walk in, you find Eddie with his back turn to the door. He must've just gotten out the shower because he is completely naked, except for the towel around his waist. He shakes his hair out and you continue to stare in silence. His back is dripping water and you wonder if he has ever looked this good.

He finally turns around and spots you. He notices the way you're staring and the bastard smirks at you.

"Enjoying the show princess?" he chuckles.

"Wha-What No, I-I was just.." Fuck, why did you come here again?

He walks closer to you and you take a step back. Your back hits the door as he closes in on you.

"What were you saying?" he grabs your face, your lips inches apart.

"I hate you!" You blurt out.

He smiles at you, "I hate you too." he closes the gap and forcefully kisses you. You gasp, what the fuck, why is this dickhead kissing you?! Still, you lean into the kiss anyways, kissing back harder.

He picks you up without breaking the kiss, his towel dropping at the movement. You feel his cock growing as it touches your ass over your jeans and you can tell that he is big, bigger than you've had. He sits you down on his bed, starting to unbutton your jeans. When he finally pulls your jeans off, he starts to feel up your body, with his hands, reaching down to where you need him the most.

You stop his movements and break the kiss, "Wait, I'm... this is wrong" You say trying to catch your breath.

"If this is so wrong, then why are you so wet for me?" He asks, touching you over your panties as he starts to move his hands in a circular motion.

You moan his name. God, was he always this hot?

"B-But you're my stepbrother and we both are taken" You try to reason, but it comes out as a breathy moan.

He smirks at you, "You jealous of what you heard the other night?.. had to get you back for all your late night calls" He confesses.

"Wha- But you have been watching me, you asshole" You slap him and he laughs in response.

"Your whines are too pretty for me to just ignore" He says, starting to kiss around your neck. "Beside with how loud you were being I'm pretty sure you wanted me to watch".

"Eddie I-"

"Shhh, let me take my time playing with your pretty cunt"

You lay back on his bed, spreading your legs open for him. This is so wrong on so many levels, but it feels too good to stop. You think you'll just get off from him just this one time, you won't even let him fuck you... Who are you kidding, you want him to fuck you.

"This doesn't change anything, I still hate you." you speak in labored breaths as he laps your pussy with his tongue.

He pulls your thighs closer to him in response, making you gasp as he speeds up his motions.

"Fuckkk Eddie, your gonna make me cum~" You moan out clenching your thighs together. He stops you, pushing his hands against your legs.

"Keep them open!" He growls out. You smirk and defy him on purpose, squishing his head between your thighs.

"Or what?" you ask.

He pulls away from you quickly and in one quick motion he flips you over, making you gasp in shock. He pushes your face down into the sheets, keeping your ass in the air. You hear him move behind you, his hand on your neck, keeping you from getting away.

"Or I'll stick it in your tight little ass and no matter how much you scream for me to stop, I won't until I cum inside you." You feel him rub his dick along your hole., you clench in response. Fuck why was this making you so turn on. Your never done anal before, telling Steve that you rather not experience that pain, but fuck it you want to experience it with Eddie.

"You like the way I speak to you baby.. like your a slut, my toy to play with?" He slaps your ass, making you jolt forward.

"Yes Eddieee please~" You whine out.

"Please what?"

"Fucking fuck me already Eddie" You whine, pushing your ass back against him.

He grabs your hips and aligns his cock with your soaking hole.. when a knock sounds on the door.

You both freeze and you turn around to look at him. He meets your eyes silently telling you to be quiet.

"Yeah!" He yells out, his hand still on your hip.

"Hey Eddie Y/n's boyfriend is here, so be nice to him and to Y/n" His dad speaks from the other side of the door.

"Oh also, Have you seen Y/n by chance, she wasn't in her room?" he continues.

"Nope, haven't seen her" Eddie lies.

"Alright well let me know if you do son, her boyfriend was so excited to see her and looks like she isn't even here". Dean laughs and you hear him finally walk away from Eddie's door.

"Fuck" You move out of Eddie's grasp and pick up your clothes from the floor, starting to put them back on.

"So your boyfriends here?" Eddie asks you.

"Looks like it" You say, finishing putting your pants on.

You turn and look towards Eddie, not knowing what to say. You were literally seconds away from fucking him and now your boyfriend is here. This should have never happened with Eddie, but God did you want it to so badly, you can tell by the wet spot forming in your underwear.

"Well sneak out tonight when he's sleeping and we can continue where we left off princess" He says, putting his clothes on.

"Are you serious?" You ask him in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know you want me, figured I'd make your wishes come true." He looks at you with a dumb smile.

"Fuck you"

"I will tonight" He smirks at you.

You roll your eyes and leave his room, slamming the door shut.

You seriously hate the guy, but oh were you so going to meet him after Steve falls asleep.

[stoopidpigeonxx]

OMG OMG I LOVE HOW U WRITE JIMMY!! 💖

can we maybe get some Jimmy nsfw headcannons next? :3

AA THANK YOU!! yes I can! Y'know what I'ma use another NSFW alphabet template! bc I like using these <33 Thanks for ur request nonnie :3

~ROTTEN TO THE CORE- Jimmy NSFW alphabet ~

NSFW UNDER THE CUT. obviously. cw; slight manipulation (if you squint) rough/hard sex, Jimmy is just mean. We know this.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Well, this depends to me. It depends on the relationship. If it's some random hookup with some bitch he doesn't know and took home in a drunken daze, he couldn't give less of a fuck. She can take care of herself. He just passes out after cumming, really. But if you're in a relationship with him, a serious one, he cares a little bit more. He's no prince charming or anything, but he'll give a little more of a fuck. He won't clean you up or anything, but he'll hold you and mutter little praises into your ear until you both fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Obviously, his dick. He's Jimmy. He knows how good he makes you feel. It makes him feel good too, so for him its a pretty good fuckin' organ. For you, your tits. Sure, you're pretty and all that, but watching your tits bounce up and down with his thrusts and covered in his bite marks and hickeys, that's the hottest thing he's ever seen. That and you take his dick; ties in together, yeah?

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Everywhere, all over. Inside, on your face, in your mouth, on your stomach, he's shooting his load on it. He's an artist at heart.. Nice and thick. He has natural breeder balls or something like that, LMAO. Fuuuuck and him pulling out to jerk off on your tits hnnngh ghgnn..

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Secretly, he likes bimbos. The idea of you being his dumb little bitch, ditzy and clueless, gets his dick harder than steel. But he knows that's not really a reality since you're a smart girl. But sometimes, he'd just like to fuck you dumb.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's experienced, yeah. He's had a few hookups here and there with chicks he thought were particularly hot. Intimate sex, though? Completely new to him. People are actually supposed to fuck because they like eachother? Who knew?

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Dooooogggyyyy. Loves to bend you over, ass in the air, your hair in one hand and the other pinned at your side to keep you there. Plus, he likes to bury your face in the pillow so that you can scream as loud as you want. How nice!

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious as in solely lust-filled, but occasionally he'll tease. "Yeaah, you like that? Daddy fucking you deep?" "Jimmy, eeewww.." "Pfaha. Kidding, doll."

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He doesn't really care that much, but he'll trim if it's getting too out of hand. He hates the feeling of his pubes on his hand; it's gross.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sometimes, once in a blue moon, he'll fuck you sweetly. Kisses and praising and all that mushy shit. Mostly, though, he's a rough and hard fucker who spits pure filth at you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Listen... He's a perv. He probably has a habit of it. He doesn't do it a ton, but goes for several rounds when he does. Like, til his dick is ruby-red raw and he's shooting blanks. He watches porn most of the time, but maybe he'll get off to you if you cross his mind.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Big on pain. Most of the time, receiving it. Yes, our little rat man is a masochist at heart. Rake your nails down his back, bite his shoulder, he loves it. He'll actually probably ask you to do it. "C'mon, baby, hurt me.. I can take whatever you get me.." Also probably a masochist as well. Not anything like knifes or crazy bondage shit, but he likes choking, hair pulling, smacking, biting, all that.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) He prefers at home because he can get as personal and dirty as he wants, but he has to admit, fucking you in a bathroom stall when he can't take it anymore is pretty damn great. He loves when he has to cover your mouth and cockwarminf you if someone comes in, and only starts fucking you again when they leave.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Everything you do. You're the sexiest motherfucker ever in his eyes, and the simplest of acts can get him hard. But the thing that works the most for him is you playing dumb. It kinda ties into his bimbo thing. If you ask questions a lot or pretend not to get his innuendos, he's hard as diamond. You're just so fucking cute, how can he not fuck you?

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything gross. (Which is funny, considering this is Jimmy.) But a big no-no of his is pegging. He absolutely REFUSES to let anything near his ass, even if it's you asking him. He doesn't wanna take anything up there, that's your job.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers receiving it. He's a sucker for good head game. Big into face fucking too. But occasionally if he's feeling nice, he'll eat you out. It's once in a while, but when it does happen, he's.. surprisingly good at it. I mean, you've watched him tie a cherry stem with his tongue (yes, I believe he can do that) so he's bound to be pretty good at pussy-eating. And if he's feeling super nice, he'll let you ride his face, as long as he gets some control. (ie, holding your hips to grind you down on his mouth instead of letting you grind yourself.)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Hard and fast. That's how he goes. He can't feel as good if it's slow and soft. If it gets too much for you and you're begging him to slow down, though, he'll do it. But he'll always keep a fast stroke game.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Honestly, he just cares about getting off. So yeah, i'd say he's big on quickies. He'll have loooong sessions with you if he's particularly pent up and you both have time to do it. But a good and quick fuck on the couch is good enough for him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He can get risky when it comes to location. But nothing that involves new shit. He won't do any crazy ass positions with you that you saw in some book. He's not a damn gymnast.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

A while. I'd say a few rounds. He's built up stamina from his jack-off sessions. He'll definitely tire you out if he's got the energy to do so. But sometimes, he'll let you ride him while he relaxes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He did back in college, maybe a Fleshlight. But he got rid of it when you came along. Why use it when he had the real thing? He doesn't like using toys on himself, but he wouldn't object to using a vibrator on you!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's so fucking mean. Like, I feel like we can all agree he's mean. He'll orgasm-denial you and only let you come when you beg him enough. "Aww, you wanna come? You sure? I d'no, I don't think I believe you, baby.."

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not a screamer, but a groaner. Very much a groaner. And a dirty talker. And, occasionally, although he hates to admit it, a whimperer. Normally that happens when you suck him off. But they're super quiet and he'll deny it if you call him out.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He's actually....nice?!?!? nah, I'm joking, but seriously, I think he could be sweet if he wanted to, and sometimes he is! Maybe it's a longer, less harsh kiss or some sweet praise.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Yeaaaah. My favorite part. He's a solid 6.5 inches, not huge (Which is JUST FINE.) but not small. He's circumcised, he's got a happy trail, normal balls ig? I dunno how to describe those, lol.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He's not chronically horny, but he is pretty horny a lot of the time. He can normally handle himself because he knows you have limits, but sometimes he just really needs your help.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He won't really. He'll go out, smoke a cigarette, and come back in. If he sees you're asleep, he'll join you.

[readychilledwine]

✨️ACOTAR Hands Handcanons✨️

Warnings - sexual references

A/N - "But liz! Where is Az?" I didn't include Azriel because I don't think some people understand how brutally scarred his hands are. A lot of people headcanon him wear rings and watches to distract from his scarring, but his scarring would be so brutal from his hands being set on fire with oil that wearing jewelry for him would be nearly impossible and more than likely very uncomfortable both physically and in the sense that jewelry will draw attention to his hands, something we know canon Azriel hates. If it is wanted, I will do a reblog with Azzy's hands, but they will be accurate, not pretty.

Also, if you're a hand whore like I am, you have to go look at this post from the lovely @thehighladywrites about asking for hand pics 🥵🥵 it's one of my favorites.

✨️ Acotar Body Headcanons Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist ✨️

Rhys

Rhys is a firm believer in hands speaking of how well you care for yourself, so the man have perfect hands.

Rhys keeps his nails neat and trimmed, his cuticles cut, and his nail bed moisturized.

Rhys has fine hand creams imported from across the seas. It's made with water from some river you don't remember the name of. It matches his skincare line. Very spoiled Illyrian baby.

Rhys does have calloused hands, but they are not rough and dry. The calloused mainly rest towards the top of his palm near where his fingers begin. It's one small sigh of his skill with blades.

Rhys like to accessorize, but not too much, a few unique rings and a bracelet

Cassian

We're just here to make sure @sarawritestories can't sleep without dreaming of Cassian.

These are some of my favorite hands in all of Hollywood. Say hello to the hands of Alexander Skarsg��rd. His hands are massive.

Cassian does have rougher hands, but he can not help it. He's tried Rhysie little princess routine, but it doesn't work. That is more than likely due to the fact that he's constantly training and teaching someone.

You truly do not mind, though. Cassian's callouses and small scars in his hands remind you that you are safe. That no one will ever harm you as long as he is around.

One of Cassian's favorite acts of service you provide for him is little at home hand care sessions. You will soak his hands in warm water and then wash and care for them. You trim his nails, apply cuticle oils, and then use a very expensive lotion that helps keep his hands softer.

Cassian's hands are constantly on you. His favorite placement is when he gets to cup under your breasts. Preferably below your shirt. And he doesn't care who sees him doing it. His second favorite placement is your hips or ass.

Cassian does not accessorize since he rarely does not have his hand siphons on. The only jewelry on his hands is his wedding band

Lucien

Soft, warm, and gentle. Lucien's hands are a personification of the male himself.

They are not too large, but they're definitely big, and Lucien has strong hands.

Lucien tries his very best to keep his hands very soft he is constantly greeting and meeting new fae as an emissary, so he ensures his hands are covered while training.

Lucien also knows you appreciate how soft his hands are. He loves watching as you lean into his touch. He loves watching you shiver when he runs them along your body.

Lucien will wear jewelry for special occasions. Otherwise, he tends to avoid it. You never know when he will need to fish with his hair and bare hands to impress you. He had a reputation to maintain there.

Eris

Eris is constantly wearing rings and fine jewelry. His hands are part of his mask of cruelty only you and a few others get to see beyond.

Eris hates his hands. He hates how they've been used to cause pain. He hates how they remind him of his father's, he hates the small scars on them.

It almost confuses him when his hands bring you pleasure. When he watches as you fall apart under his touch.

He has started to care for them more now that he has you. His beautiful wonderful you.

You have noticed the rough skin getting softer. How his nail beds seem healthier. You catch him one night with his expensive hand creme and cuticle oils and your heart melts.

Soon, the jewelry becomes a little less and less, but you told him it would be a lie of you ever said you didn't love the way rings sat on his slender hands.

Nesta

Nail, simple, and with a touch of sparkle.

Nesta keeps her hands very pretty and very soft.

Her nails are also always professionally done on Rhysand's dime.

Nesta goes to the salon once a month. She gets the works. The expensive manicures. Rhys owes her, and she wants pretty hands.

Her grandmother and mama told her hands can make or break a marriage, and this is something she can not shake.

She loves clean, simple polish. Neutral colors or a French tip, that's all. For special occasions, she will do an iridescent polish.

As Lady Death, she tries not to wear too much jewelry, but she does have two favorite rings she wears. One from you, one from Cassian.

Elain

I am a garden hobby girl, so this one was fun.

Elain keeps her nails very short. She is constantly struggling with dirt under and around her nails, so she figures keeping them short is best.

Elain has surprisingly rough hands. A garden is a lot of manual labor, and she refuses to wear gloves, so she constantly dealing with little cuts and callouses.

You bought Elain a nail brush and special soaps meant to help her keep her nails clean so it doesn't interfere with her love of baking or... other activities involving you.

Elain's hands are very small, but they fit perfectly into yours.

Feyre

This is the hands I identified most with.

Feyre's hands are constantly covered in paint now that the lands are in a time of peace.

She's been known to wipe her palette knife off on the back of her hand or dab a paint brush on them if she picks up too much color. Or use them to swatch shades as she's mixing.

It is messy, but you adore it. You love helping her peel off the bigger chunks and helping her scrub them clean.

Underneath that paint, her hands can be a little dry, so you two have been caught many times sneaking into Rhysand's room to steal his hand creme.

Feyre keeps her nails a medium length. She will paint them for fun every so often, but she sees no point since they are typically covered in her medium of choice.

Mor

The baddie of the group.

Mor keeps her hands ready to greet royalty. They are so soft, so well kept, and constantly being pampered.

Mor used hand creme at least once and hour.

She keeps her nails longer, minus two on each hand. Iykyk.

Her nails have to be red. She will not paint them any color but her power color.

She is constantly wearing a ton of rings and jewelry as well.

I personally see Mor as a gold tone girlie.

The only ring she consistently wears is her wedding ring. Otherwise, all her other jewelry is subject to change.

Amren

Nails sharp enough to rip your eye out. Sorry, Lucien.

Amren sees her hands as weapons and her nails as weapons as well. But like all powerful weapons, they need to hidden.

She hides them using fae beauty standards. Manicures, jewelry, nail polish. Amren fully believes she's fooling other fae with those daggers attached to five small fingers but she isn't.

Amren does not do two curtesy nails. Amren is a starfish. You should be spoiling her. Not the other way around.

Finding out she could do jewels on her manicure was a life changing moment for her.

She practically purrs when she gets a fresh set now.

You swear she is secretly a fire drake with the amount of jewelry she has for her hands and on her nails.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites

[creamecafe]

━ 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐂𝐬

𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Tangerine x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none just fluff. Mentions of love making but nothing graphic. Skip ahead if your not comfortable 🩷

He's the definition of 'I hate everyone except you'

Acts so tough with everyone expect you

Lemon loves to tease him about it

Spoils you a lot

A lot of his gifts are jewelery or trinkets he steals when killing his targets

"Found this beautiful necklace on one of the targets, thought it would look better on you darling"

Spending a lot of time with Lemon, and Tangerine gets annoyed at this

But he can't be truly annoyed at you or even a little bit mad because he's completely head over heels for you

Would kill anyone if they dare to touch in an inappropriate way or threatened you

Teaches you how to use a gun

Is terrified for anything to happen to you or maybe one of his enemies might find you and use you for bait

But you assure him that you know how to protect yourself and he doesn't need to worry

He knows he can tie his own tie, but he love it when you do it for him. He loves your touch; helping him fix his hair, prep his mustache, fixing his collar, etc.

Won't let you pay for your stuff. It can literally be just a water bottle on a Japanese Bullet Train but he refuses to let you spend a quarter of your money

Has your name imprinted on his card and all his bank account on his phone

Showering together is just a must have for him

You help him clean his wounds when he gets seriously injured coming home

Knows how to do hair. Will braid your hair (if you have medium-long hair) or help trim up your hair to your liking (if you have a pixie cut or just short hair)

Loves to keep himself well groomed. He has a drawer of Japanese skincare products that keeps his face baby smooth. Trims his nails every three weeks (Just so he could please you 🤫)

Doesn't want to admit it but he loves doing face masks with you. Pretends to hate it but we all know he'd be into that

Would get matching nails with you (You with colored acrylic nails/colored nail polish with designs and him with nail polish with designs on them as well)

Is a OCD coded mess. This man wants everything tidy; his work, his home, his bedroom.

"Darling, you know I love you. But you make too much of a mess."

• Loves taking care of you after you guys are done making love. Puts your favorite bath bomb in, rose petals,

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to heart, reblog, share, comment on what you think, and follow for more work! You can also find me on Wattpad and my other socials in my bio. Feedback is always much appreciated!

Have a great day/night or wherever you live around the world!

𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐀𝐓𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 | 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐈 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 | 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 15

Childhood Trauma - Painful Hug - Moment of Clarity - "I did good, right?"

Warning descriptions of nail pulling and finger breaking. Child abuse.

"Whumpee, I need you to look up at me", Caretaker gently took Whumpee's hand into their own lap and set it on a towel.

Whumpee's lip quivered as they slowly looked at Caretaker.

"It's alright," Caretaker promised, "I'm just going to trim your nails. They're growing a little jagged now."

Whumpee nodded worriedly.

"I'm not going to do anything else", Caretaker reminded, "if I need to file them down to shape them, then I will let you know. This will not hurt at all."

Whumpee nodded again.

Caretaker checked in regularly with Whumpee as they snipped away the mishapened nails for Whumpee.

"You're doing so good", Caretaker smiled.

"Thankyou", Whumpee whispered.

"I know you don't like to talk about it, and I completely understand. I'm always curious why your nails grow so oddly", Caretaker tried to keep the conversation going to help Whumpee stay relaxed, "I don't really know a lot about you still. You've left a lot out about you past, and thats fine, but do you think I'd be better at helping you if I know a little more."

Whumpee sniffled as they thought about what to say. They shook as they handed over their other hand for Caretaker to trim.

"I uhm had a fun day with my step mom. My parents had separated when I was young. My dad remarried, but my mom grew jealous and hateful... and vengeful. I went home with her after my visit with my dad. We got our nails done during that fun day with my step mom. They were so pretty. I got sparkly pink nails... I loved them so much", Whumpee paused to take a deep breath, "my mom didn't like them... in fact she hated them. She pulled them off saying that I was a horrible child for having this done.... for having fun.... without her. She still wasn't happy, even with my nail beds bleeding. She pulled each of my fingers back until they snapped."

Caretaker was both shocked and horrified as they listened.

Whumpee continued, "the police were called for a child screaming. Apartment walls are only so thick."

Whumpee looked down at their hands, "I haven't had my nails done in years. The doctors all said they wouldn't grow back right", Whumpee let out a small sob, "my dad and step mom took me in, but no matter what they did. I never wanted my hands touched again. They use to take me to the doctors to have my nails cut until it became too much. That's why I was put into medical care and you got stuck with me."

"Whumpee I am so sorry" Caretaker sighed. This hadn't been fully documented in Whumpee's notes. Not yet, at least. They would update later while Whumpee took their nap. "I promise I don't feel stuck at all."

Whumpee kept their eyes on the floor.

"Are you feeling okay", Caretaker set the nail clippers aside, "that was a lot to talk about."

Whumpee nodded, "it hurts to talk about it. All of it. My mom didn't love me, and my dad couldn't handle me. Why did it take a complete stranger to show me acceptance. Am I really that bad... that hard to love?"

Caretaker hurried to get closer to Whumpee. They let the nails and towel fall to the floor.

"You are not hard to love and accept Whumpee", Caretaker pulled Whumpee into their arms, "sometimes people lack the compassion aspect of helping others. Without that, most people have a hard time caregiving. Others sometimes get in over their head. Helping someone they love... thinking they would get better, but it may never happen or it happens differently than they expected. They may grow upset or mad, thinking they've done something wrong. They love you. They just didn't understand that these things take time. They gave up too early. I, for one, am very happy that you are in my care."

"I still don't want to see them", Whumpee whispered, "I don't feel loved by them. I'm thankful for you though."

"You don't have to see them. That is completely your choice. I support whatever you choose", Caretaker promised, "is there anything you need from me to help you. You were holding a lot inside. Do you feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable."

Whumpee shook their head no, "can we stay hugging for a little while longer? It feels good."

"Yes absolutely. We can hug for as long as you want, and whenever you want."

Whumpee cautiously peaked in on Caretaker later that night.

"Oh Whumpee. You're still awake", Caretaker leaned forward in their chair, "did you need me?"

Whumpee looked down before taking a deep breath, "I did good, right? Please tell me I did good today. I really need to hear it."

Caretaker smiled lovingly at Whumpee.

"Whumpee, you did great today. I promise", Caretaker stood and walked toward Whumpee, "you did so good."

"Thankyou", Whumpee smiled weakly, having assurance is comforting."

"I know Whumpee", Caretaker wrapped them in a hug, "I know."

Whumpee buried their face into Caretaker's stomach, "thankyou."

"You're welcome."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

[mimisempai]

Taking your pain away

Summary

Crowley gets hurt gardening and Aziraphale makes a big deal about it. Is he being a drama queen, or is there something deeper going on?

Notes

Just one more situation to create a bit of fluff...

On Ao3

Rating G - 787 words

"Hold still and let me take care of you."

Aziraphale shoved Crowley, forcing him to sit on the edge of the bed.

The demon began to protest vehemently, "Angel! I'm all right! It's just a scratch, stop making such a fuss - ouch!"

Aziraphale had just touched where Crowley's shirt was torn on his hip and raised an eyebrow at Crowley's reaction.

"Just a scratch, huh? Then show me that scratch."

Crowley continued to protest, but the angel cut him off.

"Now!"

After a moment's hesitation, the demon began to lift his shirt, grimacing as the fabric peeled away from the wound.

"Crowley, you've got to be kidding me, this is more than a scratch! Don't move!"

Aziraphale rushed to the bathroom and returned with a damp cloth.

"What happened to you? And don't lie to me, will you?"

While Aziraphale went to fetch a wet towel, Crowley sheepishly told him that a step on the old ladder had cracked while he was trimming an apple tree, and that it was a branch that had cut him when he fell.

"It's just a scratch. It's really nothing to make a drama out of. Just a little miracle and it'll be gone."

Aziraphale wasn't impressed with Crowley's casual tone and scolded, "Off the ladder! You fell off the ladder and you're telling me not to make a fuss? Besides, there's dirt and I don't know what around it, we have to clean it up before we do anything, miracle or no miracle." 

As the angel used the wet cloth to clean the wound, he said in a softer tone, "This is going to hurt."

Crowley couldn't help but hiss in pain as Aziraphale tended to the wound. Then he instinctively grabbed the angel's forearm, digging his nails into the flesh. Once the brief moment of pain had passed, the demon released Aziraphale's arm.

His gaze fell on Aziraphale's tense face as he finished cleaning his wound, before he made a small gesture that caused the wound to close and disappear as if nothing had happened.

Without a word, the angel got up, rummaged through the closet, and returned with a clean shirt. Still without a word, he helped Crowley take off the torn shirt and put on the clean one.

At his silence, Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's arm to make him sit down beside him.

"Angel? Why are you angry? Talk to me."

Aziraphale mumbled something between his teeth that Crowley didn't understand.

"Can you repeat that, please?

Aziraphale looked up at him and said more clearly, "I hate to see you hurt."

"I'm sorry."

Aziraphale shook his head.

"There's nothing you can do about it. But sometimes I wonder how many times it must have happened to you without me knowing."

"Not as much as you think. I mean, they're not exactly soft in hell, but as far as I know, you haven't been spared by your own side either."

"Don't change the subject. I'm serious about this. I hate to think of you suffering in any way."

Crowley didn't answer, but stepped back to sit against the headboard, then stretched out his arms toward Aziraphale.

"Come here, Angel."

Aziraphale climbed onto the bed and, once near the demon, snuggled up to Crowley, resting his head on his chest and gently caressing the demon's hip where the wound had disappeared.

After a moment, the angel whispered, "I wish I had the power to make sure that you would never be hurt again, that you would never be in pain again."

Crowley kissed the angel's hair and replied softly, "Even if you can work miracles, there are certain things that are unavoidable. That's life. Human life. The one we choose to live. You won't be able to stop me from tripping over a stone in the middle of the road any more than I could stop a book from falling on your head."

The angel chuckled slightly as the demon continued, "But you'll be there to help me up and heal my scrapped knee, and I'll be there to put the book back in its place and ease your pain. That's all I can promise you."

Aziraphale hummed against the demon's chest before lifting his head to look at him.

Crowley lowered his head until his lips met the angel's in a tender kiss.

As he wrapped his arms around the demon's neck, lost in the sweetness of the moment, a thought crossed the angel's mind. 

Crowley was right.

They didn't know what danger, great or small, lurked around the bend. Their one constant, their one certainty, was the strength of their love, the knowledge that they would have each other no matter what the danger.

And that was enough.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

South Downs cottage series : here

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

[luveline]

What about Steve with a cry baby reader? Like she cries at everything and May be Steve is telling her about something hard but also not that deep like a fight with his parents or they r discussing exes and she starts crying bc Steve didn’t deserve heartbreak

thank you for your request! —steve tells you about his relationship with his parents and gets the comfort he deserves a few years late. fem!reader. hurt/comfort ♡ 1.7k CW mentioned child neglect

Steve indulges you every now and then with old movies. You're obsessed with those musical movies from the fifties, soft colours, cool cat leading men and blunt heroines. Your very favourite are the ones with love triangles, though Steve hasn't ever thought you'd like to be entangled in one yourself. 

Entangled in him, absolutely. "That is ridiculous," you say softly, sitting entirely in his lap, an arm around his neck and another his waist. "She loves him." 

"She does." When the heroine of Young At Heart realised one of her love interests didn't have a present for the birthday party they were going to attend together, she bought one for him so he wouldn't feel embarrassed —yet she's planning on marrying the other man. "Poor Frank. He looks shocked." 

"I'd be shocked. Lucky me, you've never sprung a sudden engagement on me," you say, your fingers rubbing mindlessly into his side. Your affection is often thoughtless. You care for him like another must-do, in time and rhythm with your breathing. 

"To another girl, you mean?" he asks warmly. 

You fluster and rub your cheek against the collar of his shirt, rolled and worn from an endless day on the couch together. He should go up and shower soon before bed, only you feel right in his lap, in no way light but a weight he's happy to bear.

You're skewed sideways, your legs laying across the rest of the couch, his legs kicked up on the coffee table. He keeps trying to force himself up for a shower and you keep leaning into his front or scratching your nails from his ribs to his hip, convincing him otherwise.

"If we ever… got engaged," you begin unsurely, eyes on the television to avoid his gaze, he's sure, "would we have a nice party like that?"

"When we get engaged we'll do whatever you want. We can have a party, send out ivory invitations with eleven point four Times New Roman font. All the trimmings." 

"Eleven point four." Your eyes soften with your smile. "What do you know about invitations?" 

"My mom had tons of stupid parties. She didn't always send out invitations, but when she did, she'd have them done right. I got to lick the envelopes." 

"Lucky Stevie." 

You shift backwards so your weight is on the couch rather than Steve, your back to the armrest and your thighs over his legs rather than on top of him. He can see your face better in this new position, and it's fitting: the love interest on TV starts spouting about how beautiful the heroine is, how her face is a tribute to the heavens if there ever were one. Smiling as you are, Steve has to agree. 

"What were they like, the parties?" 

Steve bites the tip of his tongue. "Fine," he says eventually. "They were fine. They'd set up buffet tables covered in hors d'oeuvres and everyone would walk around in their cocktail dresses and tailored suits drinking champagne and whiskey." His tone lightens toward the end, a put upon theatric for you to make it sound less snotty. 

"Did you wear a suit?" you ask. 

"Button down, usually."

"Nice! I bet you looked adorable. Do you have any photos?" 

"Honestly, baby?" Steve squeezes your leg. "I was miserable, then. You don't wanna see any photographs. I was never smiling."

"What?" 

"I hated my life. All my mom cared about was making us look like a perfect family, and all my dad cared about was work. I was happier when they started taking months-long business trips to Missouri."

"What do you mean?" you ask, putting your hand against his face. It's smaller than his but still big, still encompassing as you stroke his cheek and scratchy stubble. "You… what?"

He tells you because he knows you love him. It makes a hard thing easier, being loved. "Nothing, just, things were bad. My parents didn't even really like me, you know? They bounced me between little league and swim team and basketball when I was old enough. Track, cross country running, everything. Killer sun tan every summer." 

Any trace of a smile is gone from your face. "They didn't like you? What are you talking about?" 

"I was an annoying kid," he says. "You know how I was when we first met? Imagine that and worse." 

"There was nothing wrong with you when we first met." Your lip trembles. 

"Baby," he says quickly, on an exhale, the word half love and half apology, "don't be upset. I'm sorry, it wasn't as bad as it sounds. I'm making it sound worse than it was." 

Your eyes turn glassy. It's awful, being so close he can see the tears well, collecting in the corners of your eyes. You stroke his cheek tentatively and ignore them. 

"It was fine, sweetheart, really, I had everything. They'd leave me a fucking credit card when they went away, I never had to ask for anything. They gave me a car for my fifteenth birthday… I think they thought it was my sweet sixteen." 

Your face crumples like a wet paper towel. You try to fight it but you're a heavy crier and you always have been. It shocked Steve when you first met, how quickly you can fall into tears, but it doesn't necessarily mean you're extremely upset. He can maybe fix it before you give yourself a headache if he tries. 

"I'm sorry," he says again, dotting a kiss on the meat of your thumb. "I didn't tell you so you'd feel sorry for me." 

"I do feel sorry. I feel so sorry," you say quietly. 

"Don't cry…" Steve shifts into a better sitting position as the first tear trips over your waterline. Your hand falls to his collar. Your fingertips rub his collarbone. "I was lucky, I had everything I needed." 

"You just told me your parents didn't like you, Stevie, I wouldn't call you lucky. That they went away for months– How old were you?" 

He winces. "Fifteen?" 

"You were still a kid." 

"I was old before my time." 

"No, you weren't." You sniffle. "I didn't know about that, Stevie. I didn't know about any of this, I'm so sorry."

"Why are you sorry? I never told you." 

You bring both hands up now, placed gently against his chest, talking to him with a tenderness that makes his body ache, "If you think that it didn't matter, I'm really sorry. Imagining you that young, sitting there thinking they didn't like you? That breaks my heart." You're not overly dramatic despite the tears, but you say it with conviction. "You're not supposed to feel that way." 

Steve laughs quietly. "I know that, dummy. Why're you this upset about this? It was years ago." 

"Because it happened to you," you say, pouting at him sympathetically. "I don't know. I guess I figure how heavy that must be carrying around this whole time, thinking they didn't like you and that it was your fault." 

Steve tries to say something, his mouth dry as sand, but he supposes he had said that, in a way. It is what he thought, what he thinks. If he were better, if he were more interesting, more attractive, more talented, they'd stick around. He pushed himself in every sport they'd let him play hoping he'd see his dad standing in the bleachers one day. 

"You're not annoying," you say, wiping your tears. You square your expression into a steadier set. "You're amazing. If they couldn't see it then and if they refuse to see it now, that isn't something you did, Stevie. Maybe they gave you a car and an Amex card, but what you deserved most was–" Your determination to calm down wanes as your voice turns airy and scratchy, like you're trying not to sob. "You deserved to feel cared about. 'N' I'm sorry you didn't, because I love you more than anything."

Steve pulls you in for a hug. Mostly because you need one, but it doesn't hurt to hide his face from you know. His eyes burn, his heart pounding in his throat and between his ears as his arms climb up the length of your back. He focuses on that, the feeling of his hands and his bare forearms against your soft shirt. His chin goes over your shoulder and he presses the side of his head to yours with more force than he intends. 

"Don't wind yourself up over it," he murmurs. "I know it sucks, I promise I get it, and I love that you're sorry, I love you, but it's not worth crying over. They're not worth it." 

You tuck your arms behind his shoulder. Steve indulges in your smell, the warmth of your closeness. Talking about his parents is like poking at a purple scar. It's healed for the most part, but it's far from invisible. He usually ignores it all. 

"Is it weird that I'm kind of vindicated by your, uh, reaction?" he asks under his breath, as though someone might hear him and call him out for it. "I don't want you to cry, but…" 

"I'm in your corner." You pull him impossibly closer. "I'll always be upset for you. Even if you don't think it matters anymore, that's the kind of stuff that stays with you, you know?" You kiss his hair. Twice. A third time. "Sorry, I know I always make stuff about me, crying 'n' all." 

"That's not true," he murmurs, rubbing your back. 

He hates that you're crying, but he's glad, too. Glad all that pain isn't made up. Your reaction is proof he didn't just imagine how much it hurt to always want something he couldn't quite grasp. 

"You didn't deserve that," you say. 

"I know." 

"I love you." 

He knows that too. "I love you. You gotta stop crying, okay? You need your tears for the end of the movie when he crashes his car. How are you gonna bawl your eyes out for Sinatra if you've wasted them all on me?" 

You laugh wetly. "I think I've made a wet patch in your hair." 

Steve relaxes, reassured at the sound of your laugh, precious as spun silver even doused in waterworks. "That's cool. I needed a shower anyway." 

—

thank you for reading!

[steam-beasts]

Day 5: Exhibition – Short fic

Duncan huffed and snorted as the workers rubbed the shampoo into his fur. He wrinkled his nose and hissed as a cleaner rubbed bit of the conditioner into his face. Being a monster engine was cool, don't get him wrong; he could move more, he found out how delicious humans were – meat and just food in general was and, even if he never admitted it, enjoyed being pet and getting belly rubs.

Oh, but nothing could even BEGIN to describe how much he hated the washdowns now. He even had to get his more monstrous form AND humanoid form cleaned for "hygiene", so they claim. Pah, such a joke. The shampoo tasted awful, starkly contrasting how it smelt, and speaking of smell...the citrus scents were so strong when he was getting washed, it hurt his nose and made his eyes water.

They clipped his nails down to a shorter length and dried his fur, in the end making him a puffy fluffball. Once it was all done, Duncan just grumbled "... Finally" and sauntered away.

__________

Duncan soon got back to the sheds, where his friend/partner Rusty was sitting and waiting for him. He gave Rusty a faint smile, and sat down beside them, his tail curled around Rusty's tail in a romantic gesture as they wordlessly snuggled up to each other. Rusty hummed, reaching out their paw to feel Duncan's forearm, noting the extra poof in the fur "The washdowns have been maming you extra fluffy lately, haven't they, Duncan?"

Duncan's mood immediately shifted "Puh! A waste of time if ye ask me! In my opinion, gettin' my fur all clean is pointless when ah'll just be gettin' all dirty durin' work! Especially at the quarry!"

"But you haven't exactly had much dirty jobs lately, Duncan" Rusty pointed out.

"So?"

"So...maybe there's something being planned for you? Why else would you smell so nice?"

Duncan grunted in response "Ah'd rather smell like shite than somethin' that's constantly stabbin' my nose". He then checked his claws "...and they cut my claws! How am ah supposed to tear open a cow with these?"

Rusty rolled their eyes "Oh calm down, Duncan. They'll grow back"

"Yeah, sure. Ye definitely wouldn't be sayin' that if yer claws were trimmed up! They're basically yer fingers"

The little diesel chortled in response. Suddenly, the sounds of distant giggling and chattering was heard. Soon enough, a group of young school children (probably from a nearby primary school) appeared, following Mr Percival towards Duncan and Rusty.

"We couldn't get any of the other engines here, but Duncan and Rusty are off for the day, just for you children" He said with a smile, gesturing to the two engines. Duncan spluttered and gawked "Children?!"

"Well, I suppose this is why you've been getting washed so much, Duncan" Rusty chuckled. The children all rushed over and immediately began petting the two beastly locomotives.

"So fluffy!" Two girls said in unison, gently stroking Duncan's tail.

"Such big claws!" A boy pointed down at both of their claws.

"Who's a good engine? You are!" One girl exclaimed, petting Rusty profusely. Rusty smiled and thumped their tail in response.

For once, Duncan didn't snarl or growl, towards children, he couldn't do that. Instead, he let out a deep purr.

It was in these moments he didn't mind being in an exhibit of sorts.

[ratsummer]

Lads I do not remember if I read about this from one of you on Tumblr or if I was talking to my bestie or if perhaps I was just daydreaming all along BUT I have not been able to stop thinking about the ghouls needing to have their claws trimmed on tour and their different reactions 😭 like fully I am imagining Copia sitting on the bus with fucking dog nail clippers because they've been touring long enough that their claws have grown back out and it's time to knock them back before they get to their next hotel. Please if someone has made a post about this send it to me I feel that I'm losing my mind!!! Anyway, here's how I think each of the ghouls behave!!!

Aurora: The goodest girl. Perfect princess. Only whines a little until Papa gives her a little piece of candy to suck on for her trim. She gets a little kiss on her head after each snip, so by the end she's purring and happy swishing her tail. She's a treasure.

Rain: A bit fussy, but overall just about as perfect a princess as Aurora. He'll try to yank out of Copia’s grip here and there if he thinks he has the clipper up too high on his claw. He doesn't mind trimming them a bit but Papa can you PLEASE leave them a LITTLE long??? Also gets lots of kisses, a nice pat on the butt when he's sent away to get the next in line.

Cirrus: She's very good and still, but SUPER tense because she hate hate hates the sound and the feeling of the nail trimmers snapping her claws off. It makes her skin absolutely crawl. She wears headphones and listens to music and it helps, but she does have a low growl going the whole time, tail lashing a bit. Copia goes very quickly for her, and then she gets a nice shoulder massage and kisses.

Mountain: A bit like Cirrus, the feeling bugs him a lot. His ears flick with each snip, and he will whine about it. He's gotten MUCH better at not flinching though, which Copia's once-bruised ribs are very grateful for. But Copia is very good at what he does and it's over quickly. He always makes a nice cup of tea before he trims Mounty's claws so he can send him off to relax right after.

Cumulus: This girlie does not appreciate a nail trim. She tries very hard to wheedle out of it. Oh, Papa, I have to go to the bathroom, my stomach is bugging me. Oh, Papa, I need a snack first. Oh, Papa... could we spend some alone time together first~ I need you~ Copia does have to get stern with her sometimes. It's just a few moments, my love. Come now, be a good ghoul for your Papa. And she will... but her tail is twitchy and she's pouting and whining the whole time.

Swiss: Truly a good boy! Doesn't mind a trim. It's a bit annoying, but he likes the attention from Copia. Copia also is a bit more fussy with Swiss' claws, as they tend to be a bit dryer and more brittle than the others (tour kinda dries him out), so he's grateful Swiss is good. He's always sure to rub in some good cream and file and shape them a bit so they don't snag and snap on anything. Swiss is purring the entire time, leaning in for an affectionate nuzzle or head bump here and there. Papa showers him with affection the whole time, praising his sweet ghoul, let's take care of you, my beloved.

Phantom: Pathetic. The saddest, wettest eyes. Acts like Papa is mad at him and this is his horrible, wretched punishment. He slinks in, tail wrapped tight around his leg. He kind of ragdolls too, making it hard to maneuver him for a good trim. Copia is patient with him though, believes he'll be fine with it someday as long as his experiences are always calm and gentle. Phantom gets to sit in Papa's lap for his nail trims, held close and cuddled the entire time. Like Rory, he gets a kiss between each snip, but also back rubs, soft reassurances, lots of praise. Eventually he discovers Phantom is perfectly happy and content to sit still and purr in Papa's lap during his trim if they get to listen to music together or if Copia turns on a video for Phantom to watch during his trim.

Dew: Oh, the problem ghoul. He has come a looooooong way. This poor ghoul used to not be able to get through a nail trim without a sedative and a muzzle and an extra set of hands to help hold him still. He would beg and plead to not have to do it, I'll be good Papa I promise I promise I will be so careful not to scratch up the hotel bedding or the towels or the floors! He hates the sound, he hates the feeling, but most of all he hates disappointing Papa. So now, Dew gets to wait until they make it to their hotel, and he can take a long, hot shower to relax and soften his claws a bit beforehand. Papa just holds him for a while and takes deep breaths with him. Waits for his tail to go still, or just a single thump here and there. Sometimes they have to wait a few minutes between each clip for Dew to calm back down. When he's all done Papa absolutely spoils him. They cuddle up and turn on a calm movie, Dew gets back rubs and praise and smooches.

(Aether, who trims Dew's claws at home, HAS accused him of faking it for attention. Dew vehemently denies it, of course.)