#your ask has so many good ideas thank you!

[doodle-pops]

When You Flirt With Them For Fun

Headcanons: Maedhros, Celegorm, Finrod, Glorfindel, Elrond

Request: [Mixed Selection] May I request headcanons for a flirty human reader with Celegorm, Finrod, Glorfindel, Maedhros and Elrond? Reader is flirting with them but she actually has no romantic interest in them. Genre and being sfw/nsfw don't matter for me - dealer's choice. Thank you in advance!!

A/N: I went with the SFW route that was slightly suggestive, it felt more befitting given the ‘non-romantic interest’ and I was in the mood for a good laugh. This was just a lovely request, anon. Thank you for the request!

Synopsis: When you decide to flirt with them despite being romantically uninterested in them, all for the sake of fun.

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Maedhros

𑁍 You had no idea how you ended up befriending Maedhros, but once you did, you realised something very important: the Eldar were woefully unprepared for human audacity, and Maedhros, in particular, had absolutely no idea what to do with you.

𑁍 “You should smile more,” you told him once, watching as he adjusted his vambrace with that usual, distant intensity. “I bet it’d make all the ladies swoon.”

𑁍 He blinked at you, unimpressed. “I am a Prince of the Noldor. My concerns are not—”

𑁍 “Oh, so you already have them swooning? I should’ve known.” You smirked, tapping a finger against your chin in mock contemplation. “Is it the brooding thing? Or the battle scars? Or maybe it’s the hair—tell me, Maedhros, how many maidens have tried to braid flowers into it?”

𑁍 The strangled noise he made was priceless. It became a game after that. You, being utterly shameless, and Maedhros, being utterly unprepared for someone who flirted without actually meaning it.

𑁍 “Would you catch me if I fell?” you asked once, lounging across a bench like some ancient philosopher contemplating the meaning of life. And Maedhros, ever pragmatic, glanced at you and said, “You are sitting down.”

𑁍 “Hypothetically.”

𑁍 “...I suppose, yes.”

𑁍 “Would you cradle me in your arms and whisper soft reassurances?”

𑁍 “No.”

𑁍 “What if I cried a little?”

𑁍 He closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose like he was summoning every ounce of patience left in his soul. You were his worst nightmare.

𑁍 Once, after a particularly ridiculous exchange, Maglor (who found you endlessly entertaining) finally asked, “Are you actually trying to court my brother?”

𑁍 “Oh, absolutely not,” you replied without hesitation. “I just like to see if I can make him malfunction.” The absolute horror on Maedhros’ face was a thing of beauty.

𑁍 “You are malfunctioning,” Maglor pointed out.

𑁍 “I am not—”

𑁍 “Name one time you’ve reacted normally to them.”

𑁍 Maedhros opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Then just glared at you. “This is entirely your fault.”

𑁍 You gave him a dazzling smile and fluttered your lashes. “And yet, you keep me around. Hmm. Almost like you enjoy my presence.”

𑁍 “I do not,” he lied blatantly.

𑁍 Eventually, Maedhros stopped protesting, but the sighs of long-suffering continued. You were convinced that, despite his protests, he secretly enjoyed your antics. After all, he never once told you to stop.

Celegorm

𑁍 Celegorm first mistook you for a genuine suitor, which was honestly on him. You had flirted outrageously, batting your lashes and trailing your fingers along his arm while calling him ‘my mighty hunter.’ He had puffed up like a peacock, utterly convinced that you had fallen for his rugged charm.

𑁍 “I understand,” he had said gravely one evening, after you had draped yourself over the back of his chair and whispered something about strong hands and archery skill. “It is difficult to resist me.”

𑁍 You nearly choked on your wine. “Oh, you sweet summer child,” you laughed, patting his shoulder. “I just like watching you squirm.”

𑁍 Celegorm sat there, utterly frozen, like a man who had just been hit by a metaphorical wagon. He stared at you, at the sheer audacity, before narrowing his eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, human.”

𑁍 “Oh, but you’re so fun to mess with,” you grinned, winking.

𑁍 After that, Celegorm dedicated himself to turning the tables. He flirted back with wild intensity, cornering you in halls with smirks and murmured threats of “revenge.” It became a game, a constant back-and-forth of smouldering looks and ridiculous one-liners. The moment you actually backed off, he huffed in disappointment. “What, giving up already?”

𑁍 “Of course not,” you grinned, sauntering past. “I just like keeping you on edge.”

𑁍 One day, he finally called your bluff, leaning down so close his breath brushed your ear. “You talk big, but I don’t think you could handle me.”

𑁍 You burst into laughter so hard you had to clutch your ribs. “Oh, Tyelko, if I wanted to handle you, I’d have done it already.”

𑁍 He stared. You sauntered away, leaving the great hunter standing there, looking more hunted than ever.

Finrod

𑁍 Finrod had your number from the start. The very first time you tried to lean into him and sigh about how ‘utterly entrancing’ his eyes were, he simply raised a golden brow and smirked. “Oh, is that so?”

𑁍 You pouted. “Must you ruin my fun?”

𑁍 “I would never, but I am curious—do you say this to all elves, or am I special?” he purred, clearly amused.

𑁍 “Oh, you’re special, all right,” you grinned, tapping his chest. “Most elves just blush and stammer. You, however, are proving to be a challenge.”

𑁍 Finrod delighted in the game. He indulged you with little flourishes—offering his hand with an elegant bow, leaning in when you whispered something ridiculous, murmuring things in Quenya just to watch you shiver dramatically and sigh, “Oh, if only I knew what that meant!”

𑁍 “It means, ‘You’re absolutely shameless, and I adore it.’”

𑁍 You gasped, pressing a hand to your heart. “Finrod! And here I thought you were an honourable prince.”

𑁍 “Ah, but honour and amusement are not mutually exclusive,” he grinned.

𑁍 He was insufferable. Worse, he was better at this than you were. One night at a feast, he casually kissed the back of your hand and murmured, “My dear, if you keep looking at me like that, I may start to believe you.”

𑁍 “Oh, don’t do that,” you laughed, squeezing his hand. “I’d hate to break your heart.”

𑁍 “You overestimate your power, my dear,” he chuckled, though his eyes shone with a twinkle.

𑁍 “Oh, do I?” you purred, trailing a finger up his arm. “You wouldn’t be the first elf I’ve made weak in the knees.”

𑁍 “And yet, I am still standing,” he mused. “A mystery indeed.”

𑁍 “Well,” you smirked, “there’s still time.”

Glorfindel

𑁍 Glorfindel was used to admiration. Being a golden-haired, heroic Balrog-slayer tended to make one rather popular. He was not, however, used to your particular brand of shameless flirting.

𑁍 The first time you called him ‘the most devastatingly handsome warrior this side of the sea,’ he nearly choked on his drink. “I beg your pardon?”

𑁍 “Oh, don’t be shy,” you teased, elbowing him. “You know you’re devastatingly handsome. I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.”

𑁍 He recovered quickly. Too quickly. “Oh? And are you thinking about me often, then?”

𑁍 You grinned. “Only in my most sinful dreams.”

𑁍 Glorfindel coughed. You watched, delighted, as a flush rose high on his cheeks. “You are scandalous,” he muttered, shaking his head.

𑁍 “And you like it,” you sing-songed, linking your arm through his.

𑁍 From that moment on, he was both wary and intrigued. You kept him on his toes, throwing winks and suggestive remarks his way whenever the opportunity arose. One time, after he returned from a sparring match, you fanned yourself dramatically. “By the stars, is it hot in here, or is it just you?”

𑁍 He stared at you, sweat still glistening on his brow. “Do you ever stop?”

𑁍 “Why would I?” you asked, propping your chin on your hand. “You’re such an easy target.”

𑁍 “I am not an easy target,” he huffed, crossing his arms.

𑁍 “Oh, Glorfindel,” you sighed, shaking your head. “You poor, oblivious thing.”

𑁍 One day, he turned the tables on you, cornering you in a hallway and leaning in just close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin. “Tell me, my sweet tormentor,” he murmured, “what would you do if I took your teasing seriously?”

𑁍 You blinked up at him, your brain stalling for a moment before you grinned and placed a finger on his chest. “I’d be very flattered,” you said, trailing your hand down his tunic before giving him a light shove. “But I’d still be messing with you.”

𑁍 Glorfindel groaned, his face forming a grimace. “You are intolerable.”

𑁍 “And yet, you keep coming back,” you sing-songed, winking as you strolled away.

𑁍 He watched you go, muttering something about humans and their wicked ways. But later, when you caught him smiling to himself, you knew he secretly loved every second of it.

Elrond

𑁍 “Lord Elrond,” you greeted with a smile that was all teeth. “I just want to say that you have the most magnificent bone structure I have ever seen. Have you ever considered the impact of your jawline on the mortal population?”

𑁍 Elrond, to his credit, barely reacted. “No, I have not.”

𑁍 “Tragic. I fear you underestimate its power.” He did not dignify that with a response.

𑁍 It became a sport after that. You flirted. He ignored you. You got more ridiculous. He remained completely, frustratingly composed.

𑁍 “Do you ever get tired of being the most attractive person in the room?” you asked one day, chin in hand, watching him review some diplomatic scrolls.

𑁍 “No,” he replied absently, eyes still scanning the parchment. “It is a burden I have learned to bear.”

𑁍 You choked on your drink. “Oh—so you do have a sense of humour!”

𑁍 His lips twitched, and you swore, just for a second, you saw a glimmer of amusement in those grey eyes.

𑁍 He got his revenge once. You had leaned in far too close, examining his ever-stoic features like some fine work of art, when he turned his head abruptly and murmured, “You are staring, my friend. Do you wish to kiss me?”

𑁍 You jerked back so fast you nearly fell out of your chair. “No!”

𑁍 “Ah,” he said, entirely unbothered, turning back to his scrolls. “How unexpected.”

𑁍 Sometimes, the elves who served him gave you looks of sheer disbelief. You were speaking to Elrond Peredhel, leaning casually against his desk and saying things like, “What if I wrote you a love poem?”

𑁍 “Please do not.”

𑁍 “Too late, I’ve already started. ‘O Elrond, fairest of the fair, with hair like—’ ”

𑁍 “No.” You could almost see him regretting ever acknowledging your presence.

𑁍 Glorfindel, who had been watching the entire ordeal with great amusement, leaned over and whispered, “I have never seen him so consistently harassed before. You are a marvel.”

𑁍 “Thank you,” you said, preening.

𑁍 And yet, despite all his sighs and why must you do this looks, Elrond never once dismissed you. If anything, you sometimes caught him glancing at you with that small, knowing smile of his, like he found you far more entertaining than he’d ever admit.

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[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 8

<- former chapter - AO3 link - this is the last chapter, sinners.<3

Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do it interact. Read the tags. WC: 4.8k words (i think lol.)

MDNI MDNI MDNI READ THE TAGS

Tags: rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working dogs, punishments, mating cycles/ruts/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn’t dead but its dying, it dies later on, reader is a brat, knotting, dog tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers in a fucked up way, chubby reader, reader has a pussy, pregnancy

Author Note: Phew OKAY, this was a beast to write, especially because I wanted to describe so much, but I can’t keep writing on it, lol. I have to allow myself to finish it. I will write more in this universe, I have plans of writing a fic following Valeria, heh. And i will most likely write one-shots here and there, but I also want to explore other ideas not in this universe, as i also have other fics i want to write lmao. I have never given birth to a kid (and i have no intention to), so take the whole uh pregnancy part with a pinch of salt. I kept a lot of it vague, sorry lmao. I am, however from a big family. So uh. Yeah. Also ngl, this fic took a much sweeter turn than i had planned, but oh well. It happens and i had a good time writing it. Thank you for all the support, it really means a lot to me, sweet sinners. Ily all, smooches for everyone.<3333

It was close to midday and usually the farm would be rather quiet by now, calm and content, animals at their places for the day. The sun was shining for once, the British weather hournering you with some warmth. It warmed the roof of the houses, the fur of the baby goats playing outside.

Peaceful, all around.

Or, well, almost… not inside the farm house.

You were angry. Not just angry, but mad, livid; you were growling and snapping at the pack members as they came closer to apologise, or at least attempt to - and then you would hide again in the crook of John’s armpit, whining as Farah and Alex tried to comfort you. John had to hold onto your jaw multiple times, just to make sure you would accidentally nip at Farah and Alex, Nikolai trying to herd the male hybrids a little more away, though they constantly refused.

They wanted to see the screen too.

Not just one pup - not two - no, you were having bloody four pups and you were almost even more upset about it than moving to the farm.

… almost.

You sniffled as you looked at the screen as Farah pointed so that you and the others could see the hearts and slowly growing pups inside you.

“You’re never gonna knot me again,” you angrily hissed at the male hybrids - Gaz had the decency to look apologetic, but the others didn’t. Soap was one big grin, Ghost was looking smug, filled with pride. Alex patted your head, saying it would be alright but you couldn’t see how.

Alex tried to explain that it wasn’t super uncommon for hybrids to have quadruplets, as your bodies were different from humans in many ways other than the visual ones, but you were already spiraling.

How the fuck were you even supposed to walk? You asked the male hybrids just that, though it was more of an accusation you supposed.

“Your bloody knots,” you growled, “I’m not gonna be able to walk!”

“Dinnae fash, lass, we will carry ye around,” Soap promised with a grin, tail wafting happily from side to side, only earning an angry growl from you, Price and Nik hushing you, holding onto your jaw again, trying to keep you still.

Farah and Alex help you clean the gel off, explaining what they need to make sure of, what food to avoid now and which vitamins to get you, especially when now carrying quadruplets - though it was possible one of them might disappear and get absorbed by the other fosters.

After the two vets left, you refused to talk to your pack mates, upset with the four pups currently inside of you - logically you knew it wasn’t their fault, but it sure felt like it was… yes you had initiated the mating yourself, but you hadn’t thought their sperm would knock you up like this. You stayed on the couch, leaned against the corner, nipping at the other hybrids as they tried getting closer.

Though both of your owners chastised you and the men apologized for something that essentially wasn’t their fault, you remained upset for a good thirty minutes.

It wasn’t until you owners tried giving Gaz one of your favorite snacks, the hybrid slowly crawling towards you on all fours, looking up at you at the couch, tail carefully wagging. Keeping his body language all submissive, letting out a whine as he got close to you. Finally you gave in with a grumble, leaning down and snatching the snack from his mouth and then he was on you, cuddling you and nuzzling him. The others joined him soon, Price sending you a happy smile as he looked from the kitchen.

You still grumbled a little when their licking became too much but you were melting into their touches.

✨✨✨✨

It was breakfast, a little week later, that Price and Nikolai came with the suggestion; a bigger place for all of them, either inside the house or as an expansion to it, so you could all be closer. They would keep the old shed so the boys could still have a place to Power Nap during work.

It was a suggestion, an offer - they didn’t demand it, actually asked you about it and you felt a certain pride from the fact.

Whatever the chaos that you had created had done to the two men, it had helped. You had slid to your knees afterwards, crawling to your owner, looking up at Price as you sucked him off - to your surprise but delight, Gaz joined you, licking at Price’s cock as well, stealing kisses from you, licking the cum from your mouth afterwards. John praised you both, scratching you beneath your chins - you hadn’t realised that Soap had gone to Nik before looking over, the Russian stroking his cock, Soap almost shyly sitting in front of him, his own bulge hard, as he had his mouth open, tongue out.

Nik mostly hit his tongue, you licked the couple of drops of cum which had missed from his skin. Gaz had crawled beneath the temple to Ghost instead, letting the bigger hybrid fuck his mouth. While John and Nik cleaned off the table, Soap fucked you beneath it, making the plates and cutlery shake rhythmically, Nik chastiseing you now and again until you both finished

As you laid beneath it, soaking in the pleased feeling of the orgasm, Soap knotted to you - much to your annoyance, since it hadn’t taken you long to let them do that to you again - you found yourself hoping this would continue, all of you getting along with each other.

✨✨✨✨

It was a couple of days later that you had made your decision together with your pack, that the four of you went to Price, telling what you all wanted.

You didn’t think too much of it then, switching between sleeping at the shed with the others and then inside - when it was too cold, Gaz usually made you get inside, worried you would freeze.

It was almost a week later when Price and Nik appeared with some plans for the extension, when you were all eating lunch. It would be an extension of the main farmhouse, with a door directly into it, so that it would be easier for everyone to come and go. It was much bigger than the shed, almost a tiny house of itself, Price sweetly kissing your forehead and telling you that he wanted you to have enough space for all the pups without struggling - making your tail wag so hard it almost hurt, licking and kissing his cheek with a happy whine.

✨✨✨✨

At first you almost felt like the promise of quadruplets had been a lie - your stomach didn’t seem to change that much and though your tits felt a little sore, it felt, well… Normal.

That didn’t last though. As soon as you hit month three, it hit with full speed - your stomach grew and so did your hunger at a speed you had never experienced before.

You raided the entire kitchen not even trying to hide the mess when your masters came for lunch, sitting on the floor, inhaling chocolate together with some leftovers from the day before, ready to attack a chicken foot afterwards, to really finish off with.

You didn’t get the opportunity to, though - you knew that, just from the mere sight of John with his furrowed brow and from Nik’s amused grin.

John spanked you and you spread your legs afterwards, whining for him to fuck you - he did, careful with your growing stomach, cooing about how you should just ask and he would give you everything you wanted.

That there was no need to make a mess in the kitchen, leaving cans of beans and tomatoes all over the floor, a turned over bag of flour abandoned, having fallen from one of the shelves as you tried to grab the sugar next to it.

”Can’t have you crawling on the tables, mama,” he cooed, kissing one of your burning cheeks, swiping a finger over some of his cum dripping from your puffy pussy, “Can’t have you fall down, no?”

The rest of the pack came to eat not long afterwards, the kitchen still a mess, you sitting on the couch in the living room, shyly wagging your tail at them, while you gnawed at a piece of Nik’s jerky, which he had kindly sneaked and given you, only stopping to take a bite of a cucumber now and again.

Food forgotten for a moment, your three mates were on you, licking and cooing, keeping their voices low as they promised to help you next time you wanted to raid the kitchen. Soap licked your cunt, insisting on ‘cleaning you off’, while Gaz and Ghost peppered your tits and stomach with kisses.

✨✨✨✨✨✨

Your belly was swollen, lots of stretch marks having joined your already existing ones - you had already had morning sickness for a month, but it seemed to be over once more. You felt hormonal, tired and big. It was carrying around three dumbbells all the time, your back screaming half the time. Your tits grew too, which Gaz and Soap in particular, seemed fond of.

Ghost however, learned to stand behind you, big arms curling around you and carefully holding on beneath your stomach, letting you feel a moment of relief as he carried the weight of the pups.

Alex and Farah came by on the regular, checking your vitals and everything. Everything seemed to be going as it should - even the aggressive moments you were beginning to have, where you didn’t want anyone to touch your belly was apparently normal, as you got closer and closer to your due date.

One month left. It was normal to have those instincts, wanting to make sure the pups were in a safe environment when born.

Speaking of that - that became a discussion.

”It’s too big a risk, sweetheart,” John pleaded softly with you and you turned your head away, letting out a dramatic huff. Your arms were crossed, refusing to look at any of them.

”I’m giving birth here,” you demanded, still not looking at them, “Or I’m not giving birth at all.”

You knew for a fact that it didn’t work that way, you couldn’t just refuse to give birth to the four babies currently making your stomach swell up like a giant balloon.

”you’re literally gonna give birth to four kids,” Gaz pointed out, arms crossed too, looking just as stubborn as you, “what if something happens?”

“I wanna give birth here,” you replied once more, “I don’t want to go to some sterile place.”

”Daisy,” Farah’s voice was gentle, “We just don’t want anything to happen to your pups.”

You let out a little sad sound.

”I’m not a bad mom,” you answered with a whine, arms uncrossing to hold onto your stomach, “I’m not.”

”Nobody said that,” Farah said, leaning forward to gently pat your head, “and it’s okay to be scared - you’ve never tried it before and we know it’s not gonna be easy.”

You bit your bottom lip, another sad sound. Soap carefully snuggled against you on the couch, pressing his nose against your neck.

”There are nesting rooms at the hybrid hospital,” Alex added, “you can bring everything you want in there a week before the due date, make it feel right, yeah? We will let you go yourself as long as you want and help you if necessary.”

You could feel one of the pups kick at your ribs, making you wince for a moment, curling your fingers against the stomach a little more.

“Okay,” you finally whispered, “But I want to decide what we bring.”

✨✨✨✨

You had brought a lot of blankets to the hybrid hospital, but a lot of clothes as well — not all your own. In fact, most of them weren’t your own. Nikolai had let out a pained sound as you had grabbed his leather jacket and you had shot him such a nasty look that you almost regretted it. You could see the pack behind him tensing up as well, as if ready to hold Nik so that you could steal it.

”Fine, lapochka,” he finally grumbled, grabbing one of John’s coats to wear instead, “But I want it back afterwards.”

You arrived a week before, getting used to the facility and getting your nest ready. John and Nik switched between being there, going home to help at the ranch and then switching - Ghost, Gaz and Soap all stayed with you, the mere mention of them leaving making you growl the loudest.

It was on the fourth day into your stay that your water broke, making you and all the hybrids panic for a short moment. Farah and Alex arrived shortly after, as well as a specialist who had helped with a lot of hybrid births, when there were more than 3 pups at once. Said specialist seemed nice enough but it took a couple of hours before you got used to her - John almost muzzling Soap and Ghost from how they growled at her at first.

Despite all of your fears and the exhausting and stressful experience it was to give birth to four babies, it didn’t matter once they were all on your chest. Tiny and perfect, unable to open their eyes and letting out small coos to make sure you were there.

Fat little bastards laying on your chest, finally no longer in your stomach, all declared healthy.

The specialist, Farah and Alex made sure all of them were alright and that you were doing fine. You had gotten stitches and fluids but otherwise you were good.

You were enamored, watching their tiny ears and tails, their tiny fingers and barely there claws pawing at you, hungry for touch and food.

You didn’t let John nor Nikolai hold them at first, but they didn’t seem mad about it.

Gaz, Soap and Ghost on the other hand were allowed to - in a way, it almost looked comical to you. They held them as you got cleaned up a little, exhausted but not wanting to miss a moment.

The male hybrids that you had hated for the first while, all seemed like lap dogs themselves; they were all so big in their own ways and the pups were tiny, so careful that it might as well have been delicate porcelain they held onto. Ghost’s big hands almost seemed to swallow one of the pups.

Two girls, two boys. Perfect. All of them.

You stayed at the hospital, making sure everything was alright. They got the shots they needed, the chips that were required by law, so that they were a part of the system.

It was three days later that you finally offered John to hold one of your boys, shyly offering it to him with a whine, your tail wagging against the temporary nest.

You pretended to not see the tears in his eyes, Nikolai leaned over his shoulder, looking with awe at them himself, whispering something you couldn’t understand.

It was the day after that you were finally up and walking again, wanting to go home.

✨✨✨✨

You were inside with them for the first month, your working dogs looking after you in shifts - while John and Nikolai looked after you all the time.

It wasn’t easy, especially not at first.

Cries that kept most of you awake at night, their never ending hunger and your sudden role not just as a mother to a single pup but to four. It was dirty diapers and stressful moments, it was tears rolling down your cheeks as you felt helpless despite the pack being there. It was fear of the future, of whether you did everything as well as you should.

It was late night kisses as Ghost, Gaz or Soap comforted you; on your lips, cheeks, nose and against your temple. Whispering your actual name in moments shared in secrets.

✨✨✨✨

In a way they grew up too fast. One moment they were barely able to crawl and the next you were running after a delighted toddler in a diaper, escaping from bath time, leaving Soap and John behind in the bathroom to wash the others after a day outside.

��Alice!” You yipped, the tiny child just screaming with delight, ducking under the table to escape, tail wagging so quickly it hit chair legs on the way. She made it to the hallway, almost at the door, when Nikolai appeared from the stairs, swooping her up, Alice letting out an annoyed howl at her capture.

“Not behaving today , eh?” He asked, the baby squealing as he tickled her tummy before handing back your pup, “escaping the bath again?”

“It’s like she knows just when to bolt,” you agreed, frowning at your pup who looked up at you with Soap’s eyes, Gaz’s hair and skin tone but Ghost’s facial features. Long, pointy and fluffy ears that might raise when she got older, might not, too much of a mixed breed for any of you to know.

She clapped her dirty hands against your cheeks and you huffed at her, before carrying her back to the bathroom where she let out excited barks at the sight of her siblings.

They all looked different, yet somehow the same. Sharing yours or the men’s features in different ways. Alice, Henry, Oscar and Florence. Some of them had your nose, some of them had Gaz’ hair, some Ghost’s freckles, and some of them had Soap’s chin.

They grew quickly — too quickly for you to almost follow along, the extension to the house filled to the brim and once more expanded. As soon as they had learned to walk and crawl up on things, it became even more crazy, especially as they ran off to hide in the stalls, meeting the goats and some of the barn cats.

Once, Florence disappeared into the corn fields that you had once ran into to escape the men - it seemed so long ago and despite time having passed and knowing that Valeria had found a mate of her own, a stray that she had thrown her love onto, all of you were still territorial.

Nothing happened however. It only took five minutes before a slightly grumpy looking Valeria appeared, holding Florence in her arms, your daughter tugging on one of the other hybrid’s ears, as if Valeria wasn’t scary one bit.

”Sorry, Valeria,” you said as she gave you Florence over the fence, the other letting out a little grumble.

”’s okay,” she said - and you didn’t comment on how her tail wagged a little as she walked away.

✨✨✨✨

It was five years after the quadruplets birth, that you got pregnant once more, ready to castrate your pack members yourself, making Soap, Ghost and Gaz sleep out in the shed, while you took your pups to sleep in John’s and Nik’s bed, all of you barely fitting in there.

It had truly been an accident this time - you hadn’t even been in heat. Nik seemed amused, as the asshole did with everything, while John seemed a little more frustrated, yet confused over how the fuck you and the others hybrids had even managed to knock you up.

And it was fucking twins.

It took three days before you let your working dogs back into the little house you had, all the pups delighted, while Soap, Ghost and Gaz all kissed you and licked you so you smelled like more of them.

Despite your anger, you had liked the amazement on the quadruplets’ faces once they felt the twins kick inside your stomach for the first time, Ghost sniffling with delight, while Gaz and Soap were wagging so hard you were afraid it would hit one of the pups and tumble them to the ground.

Laswell took care of the pups while you gave birth - the woman might not fully admit to it, but you knew she had a very soft spot for them. Spoiling them the two days before she took them to meet their new siblings at the hospital.

Once more Nik had to give up his leather jacket, muttering about how it was hard to get it clean last time.

After giving birth and healing, you demanded to get your tubes tied and after several talks, psychologist and doctor visits, John let you have the procedure.

Though Ghost, Soap and Gaz weren't too happy about the idea at first, they were also not denying that six kids was enough - more than enough. Hadn’t you been a pack of four, you weren’t sure you would have been able to handle it. Ghost shyly admitted one late evening that it was a lot of his hybrid instincts that held him back, the forever present idea of breeding you that made him sceptical. But he still supported you, together with the others.

There was indeed enough trouble as it was with all the pups. Alice, Florence, Oscar and Henry were already growing into kids having their own opinions, needing to try out boundaries and figure out what they liked and didn’t like. They didn’t quite understand that Leo and Sophie was too young to play with them at first.

They grew up with more love than you had experienced in your own childhood, freed from the forced training of becoming the perfect lapdog. They weren’t hit or spanked, the only fights they got into were play fights or fights with each other that their parents or owners were always quick to break up.

Nobody told any of them off for following their instincts, as you had experienced — nobody declawed them or filed down their fangs like it had been done to you. They weren’t punished for barking. You didn’t need to be a genius to know that a lot of the overprotectiveness from the men also came from the lack of their own parents’ being unable to be there for them throughout their childhood.

They socialised with humans a lot, John finding a daycare for them as they grew older, as well as a school for hybrids later on. It made both Ghost and Gaz bawl their eyes off the first day they left for school, never having been able to do that themselves.

Snuggling with both John and Nik at the couch but stubbornly refusing to admit so.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

They were in their early twenties when the first of them left.

It was Henry who left first, after a couple of people had come to meet the young hybrids and he had gotten along with a couple, who had kids on their own. They also had an older hybrid, whom he took a liking to.

John - and not to mention, you and your mates - didn’t let him go easily. It took three months of visits, paperwork and Henry visiting the new owners at a week at a time, before it was the young hybrid himself who put his foot down. He wanted to go and finally you felt peace with letting him do so, kissing him all over when he packed his last stuff, leaving with his new owners, waving from the car.

He wasn’t going far, only an one-hour drive away but still. All of you pretended not to cry afterwards. Leo and Sophia, your youngest pups were inconsolable the first two days, the teenage pups not quite understanding fully where their brother was going.

Florence was the next to leave - she had more herding instincts than any of the others, often happily following Soap around when herding the sheep or goats. It had started with her herding the chicken at a young age and as the years passed, she had grown to love it.

So when a farmer came by together with his family - it was almost a perfect fit from the moment they saw each other. It was a big family, with three generations living on the farms, together with three other hybrids already helping. But they were expanding and were getting more sheep - so another hybrid was needed, even though they had actual dogs as well.

The procedure was the same as with Henry though Florence put her foot down a little earlier than his brother, wanting to move to her new owners now.

Two-hour drive, but with the promise of regular visits, you let another of your adult pups leave the nest, four pups left.

Oscar was the third - and if you were honest, he was one of your pups that you had been most nervous about, since he seemed more sensitive. He wasn’t into herding like Florence and didn’t have the same outgoing energy as Henry did. He liked comforting others but he sometimes seemed to get uncomfortable when there were too many people together.

But when a young lesbian couple came to meet him, you knew that he was going to be alright. Even after the first time, it was clear that he had taken a liking to the two women, especially one of the women, who was soft-spoken and had anxiety.

The papers were drawn up a month after, as Oscar also went to take a one-year course to become a registered service hybrid, to help one of his new owners to get more comfortable.

Another two-hour drive, but the women had family in the area, so they would be around often.

Alice was the fourth of them, not having vibed with two applicants, turning twenty-three not too long after meeting the couple she decided to join. They lived in one of the bigger cities, a three-hour drive, but they fit so well together that you couldn’t make yourself feel bad about it.

She was a snuggle bug and much more of a stereotypical lapdog than any of her siblings, so the couple seemed right. They had a kid that she seemed to bond with pretty quickly as well.

You felt old sometimes, seeing your pups growing up - it was as if twenty years had passed by so quickly that you barely noticed it. There were grey speckles of hair in Nikolai’s hair, John’s beard almost grey by now, making the man grumble about feeling like a grandpa sometimes. Sometimes you wondered if they had wanted kids of their own. If they had wanted someone to throw their love onto, just like you, Ghost, Gaz and Soap had had. Yet, they seemed happy at the same time, having been nothing but loving towards your pups throughout their life from birth to young adults.

Leo and Sophia also left in their twenties.

Sophia had tried with a few different people before she met the right one - almost having given up on the idea of finding her own owner, bawling her eyes out, feeling like a failure.

That was until she met a lady a couple years older than herself. She was blind and already had a blind dog, but needed more help in her daily life - as well as more company. She would visit her brother often, who also had hybrids, so Sophia wouldn’t be fully cut off from hybrid company. Sophia excelled in her training as a guide hybrid and passed with flying colors, happily leaving together with her owner with signed papers and a heartfelt goodbye from everyone.

Leo left not too long after - they had run into one of Nikolai and John’s old friends and the hybrid had been smitten ever since, the almost mute man having found comfort in the hybrid despite only meeting for a couple of hours. Just like all the others, they went through a trial period, because while you believed in Nikolai and John when they said that he was a good man, you wanted to make sure that Leo didn’t rush into the situation.

✨✨✨✨

At last, it was John, Nikolai, Ghost, Soap, Gaz and you back at the farm that you had declared your worst enemy over two decades ago. You didn’t hate to admit that you liked the place now, even if you never got into running through muddy fields or guarding livestock. You didn’t miss the city any more - at least not in the way that you used to.

The first month that you had all been alone, you all fucked like rabbits, all of you happy to have sex with the others by now. You all calmed down after that, having gotten most of it out of your system, though you were happy to not having to worry about pups walking in on you being pounded by one of their dads or their dads fucking the throats of John or Nik.

It was odd too. You grew older, all of you did.

In many ways life felt like it always had, in other ways, it seemed so different. You felt happy, a lapdog living her best life at a farm.

[peachycocaine]

some ideas for you (if you want them) <3

brothers bff!thanos who has been secretly fucking you for years and is always threatening to tell on you two to your brother whenever you’re being a brat but you always beg him not to because you don’t want your little secret to end (and then of course you have to *thank him* for not telling)

or!

reader and thanos have an only fans and they keep getting recognized for it (whether that be in the games or just in public) and people always say gross stuff to you and it makes you sad :( (this could end up being smut or angst or fluff or any combo tbh)

or!

you’re broke and the only place you can afford to rent is a room in some dude named thanos’s house… the first few months are chill but he keeps stealing your undies (he’s not at all slick about it) and whenever he asks you to come watch shows with him in the living room he sticks his hand down your pants (never actually *doing* anything but just to show you that he can)… then finally you realize you’re not gonna be able to pay rent this month and he just smiles because there are other forms of payment :) (this one could be headcannons or an actual story)

Okay cuz why did these actually eat hello?? Thank u sm noonie i've been yearning for ideas!! i'll try to do all of these, no promises though might end up procrastinating :/

Sealed deal

Pairings: pervy landlord!thanos x fem!reader

Tw: p in v, unprotected sex (rmbr to wrap it before you tap it), dry humping, mentions of drug usage, language

You had been financially struggling for a long time, you didn't have a place of your own to stay at. Though your friend let you live with her for 2 weeks, she eventually told you she couldn't let you live with her any longer. And you understood that, you were living with her free of charge and she had to cover for your expenses. She had to buy twice the amount of food and the electricity and water bills would come in double the cost due to you living with her. She was also struggling and so she had to do what she had to do. You did have a job, which paid minimum wage. Seeing your condition your friend suggested that you could live with one of her friend's, but you'd have to pay monthly rent of course. At first you weren't very fond of the idea since her said friend was a male but it was the only one thing you could afford right now. You turned up her offer and moved in with her friend.

His appearance was questionable but you had no other choice than to adjust. he wasn't really living lavish but his financial status was above average, he made his money off of his meaningless raps. At first living with him was easy, he didn't really bother you since he was always too busy doing drugs or trying to come up with new rap lyrics or he'd just be outside with his friends. But after 2 or 3 months, you noticed that alot of your panties went missing. At first you shook it off thinking they got lost, but too many of them had gone missing. And ofcourse the culprit was the man that lived with you. He gave 0 fucks about hiding it too, you could walk into his bedroom and you'd find your panties laying on his bed. You just took them back without confronting him about it, trying to ignore the fact that the man you lived with and will be living with for a good while was a pervert.

As time went on, interactions between you two became more frequent. He'd ask you to join him on the couch at times, though you'd always hesitate before you went because everytime you did he'd sneak touches to your thighs or brush his arm against your tit and call it an accident. He'd shove his hands down your pants, letting it rest against your clothed pussy as he watched your shift uncomfortably, at times he'd press his palm harder against your core. You didn't really say anything, well, more like you couldn't because you knew if you protested against him he could kick you right out. You tolerated his panty stealing habit until you found one of your panties covered in some slimey substance. You instantly dropped it when you realized that slimey gooey substance was his cum. You wanted to get out of here as soon as possible but you knew you couldn't.

You spent half the money you earned from working your ass off on clothes and other necessities, forgetting to save some for rent. You realized you were short on rent money and panic set it. Maybe you could ask thanos to give you one more month and pay off your rent after you earn more, but you knew thanos wasn't that generous or sympathetic. Later that evening he approached you and you just stood there hoping he'd forgot about the rent. "Hey, y'know its time to pay up right? Come on" he sticks his hand out, expecting you to hand him money. You chew your lower lip before gathering up the courage to speak. "U-uhm right so.. im short on money right now but could you please just give me one more month? I promise i'll pay full by next month" you heart was thumping in your chest, waiting for his response. He just looked at you and gave you a smile. His expression was unreadable, you couldn't really tell if his smile meant a yes or no. He stepped closer to you, towering over you as he leaned in "it doesn't work that way senõrita, now does it?" His breath fanned over your ear before he stepped back. You started fiddling with your fingers, growing more and more anxious about what you could do.

"I don't have the money on me, i really cant do anything about that, you have to understand, please." You pleaded hoping he'd show some mercy and let it slide this time. He rubbed his chin acting like he was thinking "hmm.. you could do one thing though.." his tone suggestive. "A-and what could that be..?" You saw right through his intentions, you knew what kind of man he was. He scanned your body up and down, practically eye-fucking you. Your body tensed at the way he looked at you. "Come on, don't act all innocent doll. Y'know what im talking about." He smirked at you and you just bit your lip. You knew exactly what he meant, he wanted you to pay with your body and you knew he had you cornered. You bunched up your shirt in your fists and just simply nodded, giving him a greenlight to do whatever he wanted to you. He was quick to jump at you, you fell back and landed on the couch as he eagerly started kissing you, almost devouring you whole. You just laid there, letting it happen as he caged you in. His hands were roaming around your body eagerly, exploring your skin like theres no tomorrow. He roughly squeezed your breast as his mouth never left yours, you moaned into his mouth making him shove his tongue deeper down your throat. He pulled away from you, panting as a string of saliva connected your mouths. You looked anywhere but at him, not wanting to see his face as he took advantage of you. He cupped your cheek and made you look at him, his thumb tracing your bottom lip as he started grinding his bulge against your clothed sex.

"Do you feel that? Feel how hard you make me?" His voice was raspy and breathy as he rubbed his groin against your crotch. You tried supressing your moans by biting your lip, trying not to give him the enjoyment of this situation. He rolled his hips and you could feel his hard throbbing cock through his sweats and of course he wasn't wearing boxers. His movements came to a halt and he started pulling his sweats down. "Undress." It was a command not a question. You did as you were told and took off your clothes while he did the same.

You two were skin to skin now, his naked form on top of yours. He looked down at you, admiring every inch of your bare body. "Fuck i can't believe you've been hiding this gorgeous body of yours from me since months." He chuckled as he spread your thighs apart further and positioned himself between you. He ran his cock up and down your slit before tapping the head on your clit a few times, earning a moan from you. Your moan gave him a head start as he began pushing his tip in, resulting in you biting your fist. He was bigger than you thought and the stretch made you want to scream. You let out a pained whimper as he began slowly pushing each inch into your tight pussy, splitting you apart on his cock with each inch. He let out a groan as he bottomed down, he was kind enough to give you time to adjust before he began rocking his hips gently. You covered your mouth with your hand trying to stop the moans that were forcefully pulled out of your throat. You hated the fact that it felt so fucking good, his fat head grazing your G spot with each thrust. He cooed and peeled your hand away from your mouth "c'mon dont hide those moans from me now, i needa hear how good i make you feel" he said as he dipped his head down, planting rough kisses to your neck. He started thrusting his hips into you faster, his dick slammed in and out of you. Your hands instantly flew to his hair, tugging on it as he bit down on your neck. He marked your neck before licking the bite mark "look at you taking dick like a good girl" his breathing heavy as he pulled away from your neck to admire your face.

The way your lips parted and tears pricked your eyes made his cock throb inside you. He pulled all the way out till only his head was in before ramming his dick back into you, aggressively fucking his cock into you as he watched your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. The sight before him made him almost lose control and cum right then. He eagerly stuck his hand between the both of you and started messily rubbing your clit. He was eager to make you cum, he wanted you to cover his dick in your cum. Your back arched as your nails dug into his back as he began rubbing your clit. Feeling tension build up in your stomach, you felt yourself getting closer with each of his thrusts. He felt your walls spasm around his cock, noticing that you were about to cum "gonna make a mess all over my cock princess? Go ahead, cum on my fucking dick like the little whore you are" he lifted up one of your legs to get a better angle, his dick pounding into you deeper now. After a few thrusts, you came undone on his cock. Your body fell limp beneath him as he kept snapping his hips into yours. His hips stuttered as he came closer to release. With one swift thrust, he burried himself deep inside you. Painting your insides white with his cum.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. He pulled out his now soft dick, watching in awe as his cum gushed out of your used cunt. "Payment succesful"

[ghostgirl-22]

Could i request a little something with patrick x fem art (or x reader if that makes you more comfortable) who has vaginismus, i have it and have been feeling really down about it recently because i cant have vaginal sex or masterbate without bleeding or wanting to cry.

Like i enjoy anal and can happily substitute but sometimes i wish someone would take their time to work me open and i really get to throw myself into it and be the slut i was born to be lol

Also so many guys treat it like a chore but i feel like patrick would understand and hed see it as a reward to get to fuck the person at the end and make them feel good because all pussy is good pussy and when he wants to make someone cum, hell find a way, hes determined!

Thank you for this anon! You’re so real…Patrick isn’t the type of guy to give up without at least a little bit of a fight <33

CW: 18+ !NSFW!

—-

You’re kinda kicking yourself for falling for it now. Patrick’s easy charm, his sense of humor, his looks. You’ve heard all the rumors. You know everyone says he’s got a big dick, that he’s promiscuous. It was okay before when you didn’t expect it to go anywhere. When you thought it was a little fun and flirting but he didn’t really like you. Not like that anyway.

But now you’re in his bed, his fingers tangled in your hair, you’re licking into his mouth. You can feel him, his cock. You’re wet and you’re horny, but you’re anxious at the same time. God if only it could be that fucking easy. You get wet, he gets hard and he fucks your brains out. But it’s not easy. It takes everything in you to pull away from him but you manage it.

“What?” He asks, eyes hooded, gazing over your face, your body. He looks hungry.

“Nothing, just… a little curious how the movie might end.”

He smiles. “Right. I thought you said you’ve seen Mean Girls like four times or something.”

“Uh well, I have a bad memory.”

He tangles his fingers into your hair. “Uh huh, god you’re so pretty. Are you a virgin?”

You glare at him.

“What? I don’t mean it any way… it just feels like you get nervous whenever we… get close.”

You don’t know why you say it. Maybe because he’s always so blunt with you. “It’s not that… it’s just…it’s difficult for me to have sex.” You blurt.

He chuckles but then settles a bit when he sees your face. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I thought you meant with me. Is that not what—“

You narrow your eyes and grip the sheets, irritated now. “It’s called vaginismus and it makes vaginal sex painful. Like even with lube it’s… um… hard to open up.”

“Mm,” Patrick says, curiously. Though now he’s blatantly staring at your lap. You’re still in your tennis skirt.

You’re starting to feel a little more embarrassed and uncomfortable. Why did you just tell the guy who’s supposed to be the local sex god that you’re fucking useless at vaginal sex. Why did you say vaginal? Or vag for that matter. Not once but twice. What the fuck were you thinking?

“Look, actually I’m just gonna go. I just remembered I didn’t finish that essay for Ms. Horne.” You say quickly, making excuses as you gather your things. You don’t really let him talk, which he seems to be amused by. You pop the movie out of the dvd player and by the time you’re out of there you’re dying of embarrassment. Certain he’ll tell all his bros about this. You’d been bullied before you started at MRTA, for your hair, for the way you talk, but now that you’re older the idea of being bullied for something sexual that you can’t even control makes you feel sick. You’re dreading what the boys will be saying about your condition.

You hide away in your room for most of the weekend. You only go to the lunch hall to grab things that you can eat in your room, like fruit and yogurt. Your roommate and best friend, the only other person you’ve told about it, feels bad and agrees to split a pizza order with you on Saturday night.

“Maybe he didn’t tell anyone.” Your friend suggests.

“Please it’s Patrick Zweig, he probably told Donaldson the moment he got back to the room.”

“Well they’re best friends— besides it’s a higher likelihood that he just tells everyone he hit it anyway.”

You wouldn’t necessarily want that— but it honestly beats the alternative.

”Honestly I wish we could’ve done it. I mean, his dick really is big like they say it is and I just wish I could… I don’t know… be a little bit slutty for a change. We’re gonna be in college next year.”

Your friend laughs. “You can— I believe in you. You just take a little more work. Which the perfect guy is definitely gonna appreciate.”

You’re starting to feel better towards the end of the weekend. Your friend confirms she hasn’t heard anything about you around school from Art Donaldson or anyone else Patrick is friends with. Sunday evening you're in bed watching Mean Girls again when you hear a knock on your door.

Confused you get up and pull open the door, expecting your floor captain but it’s Patrick standing there with his goofy little smirk and his backpack. “Hey.”

”Hey,” you say feeling your skin heat up with embarrassment remembering the other night. Not to mention your hair is a mess and you're in sweatpants. And not shapely sexy sweats, you’re in massively oversized sweats with old bleach stains.

“I snuck in, so can I…”

“Oh right,” you say, stepping aside to let him in the room.

He drops his book bag and leans in to kiss your cheek. “You look pretty.”

He has to be joking.

“What are you doing here?” You ask as he lifts your sweatshirt.

“I don’t know… finishing what we started.”

“Huh?”

“The other day, when you left. You said it was difficult for you to have sex.”

“Uh well… I mean with the condition.” You stammer awkwardly.

“Yeah I know, I researched it,” Patrick says, smirking.

“You what?”

“I’m very studious,” he says, half smile on his lips.

“Uh,” you stutter as he gets to his knees and tugs at your sweatpants and then your panties. Within seconds he’s kissing your cunt. You’re moaning almost immediately as his tongue flits around your folds, teasing just below your clit. You can’t stop moaning and you hope your roommate plans to get dinner after the mall or she’s gonna come home to an eyeful. Every time you get close he withholds and soon you’re so wet and frustrated that you’re gripping his shoulders and practically riding his face trying to get off. That’s when you feel him teasing you with his fingers and you start to tense.

“Fuck,” he whispers. He doesn’t sound frustrated but you apologize anyway.

“Mm baby, don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.” He breathes.

“R-really?” You stammer, you’re kinda stunned and a bit emotional.

“Yeah really,” he says, his expression almost incredulous, like he’s surprised that you would even ask. Like it’s a given. “Just call me Dr. Zweig. World’s foremost pussy doc.”

Before you can make fun of him for that ridiculous statement hes working on you again, tongue teasing along your clit only this time. You can tell he’s started jerking himself off and that kinda puts you over the edge. You’re shivering, your walls spasming as orgasm rips through you.

He stands up when he’s done and gazes at you, tangling his fingers into your hair. God his skin is flushed and his eyes are sparkling. “You’re so beautiful,” he says and you want to say the same thing back, but your a little tongue tied.

He grabs his backpack and pulls out some lubricant, handing it to you. “Do you ever finger yourself?”

”Uh… sometimes but honestly sometimes it hurts so I get scared to.”

“Ah well try it tonight,” he says. “You can touch yourself and tomorrow I’m gonna come back and help you.”

You swallow, anxious and aroused at the idea of it. “Okay,” you take the lube. “What if um— what if it doesn’t work?”

He shrugs. “It’s gonna work. Even if it’s not tomorrow, we’ll fuck next week, or next month, or in six months. Or whenever. You really think I’m just gonna get this close to pounding your pussy and let vaginis— whatever it’s called beat me? No fucking way.”

You laugh, feeling a bit more relaxed already. “You’re such a pervert. But thanks.”

That night you try fingering yourself in the dark after your roommate falls asleep and it feels a little less painful after your fingers are coated in too much lube but you do bleed a little. You’re anxious and nervous to see him again.

The next night you sneak into his room. He claims his roommate is out with his girlfriend so you’ve got plenty of time. You bring the lubricant and it turns out that when he said he’d help you, he meant he’d meant he’d lie between your thighs and lick at your clit while you finger yourself in front of him. You’re trying to ease your fingers inside and play with yourself and all the while he’s distracting you from the discomfort of it… licking teasing tasting… it doesn’t take long before you’re coming. Your fingers are barely inside but you still feel your pussy quivering as you moan through your orgasm.

Patrick looks up from between your legs, hair messy, jewel colored eyes sparkling. “God you’re so sexy… I’ve been dreaming of this since I first met you,” he hums.

“I wish you could fuck me,” you sigh breathless.

His eyes light up. “How does it feel? Fingering yourself?”

“Tight,” you breathe. “But um… I’m um… I’m really wet so it’s uh… it’s going in.”

“Yeah,” Patrick’s looking down, sees your finger slipping in and slowly disappearing deeper inside your cunt. His dick is aching so much from watching you come that he’s dangerously close to rutting on your mattress. God, you’re gonna be the end of him. He’s never had to work this hard to fuck before. Barely had to work hard for anything in his life. He’s gonna savor this. “Keep doing that,” he says. “Except try two fingers tonight.”

*

He has an away match the next two nights. The boys varsity team made it to the state finals again. He calls you while he’s in his hotel room to ask how it’s going. You decide to do it on the phone with him. It takes you a while but you’re able to handle two fingers as he teases you, “Imagine you’re on my big cock, imagine you’re so full and it just feels good.” His voice is so soft it makes you shiver.

“Yes, yes, fuck me baby. I want your huge dick in me. Wanna be a slut for you,” you groan. You can hear him breathing heavy into the phone. God, he’s fucking touching himself too. You barely feel pain, just pleasure listening to him as he gets off and then you’re coming too… feeling your pussy spasm around your fingers.

When you come to his room the following night, you feel all shy and giggly. He pulls you in and kisses you. He says smoking might help calm you so you’re sitting by the window sharing a joint before he lays you down. He’s giving you head while you finger yourself again but this time he coats his fingers with lube and slowly works his way in alongside yours, he’s gentle, paying attention to your breathing, your expression, your cues. If you hold your breath he’s asking if youre okay? If you moan he’s asking if you like it? If you squeeze he’s gently telling you to relax. It takes time, he’s got it on MTV on and Real World was playing when you started but now Road Rules is on.

“Fuck,” you whisper, staring at the three fingers pressing inside you. Slowly dilating you. You remember feeling pain just with one. And the pain isn’t all gone but it doesn’t make you want to cry.

“Is it okay?” He asks. He can’t help himself. He’s grinding lightly up against the mattress.

“It feels… it kinda feels good.”

“Yeah?” He says excitedly.

“Mmhm,” you breathe. You press your fingers back and forth a little more quickly and he matches your pace. “Fuck I wanna take your cock.” You groan.

“Oh sweetie… I’m a little bigger than this…” he says, his tone light but his breathing heavy.

“I know… oh fuck… need you.”

“Lets try one more finger,” he says, anxious.

“Okay,” you’re at your breaking point, you don’t even realize it when he’s added another finger. You’re more fixated on the way his calloused fingers are bumping up against your clit as they flick back and forth relentlessly, it sounds slipperywet and obscene. And suddenly you’re coming. Hard. Moaning out expletives. Your toes curling tight. He’s aching for you, eases his fingers out, they’re coated with lube and your moisture. He can’t help tasting them.

“Mm I bought you something while we were away,” he says distractedly. You’re fixated on his cock. He’s tenting in his shorts and he’s right. He’s definitely bigger than the fingers you’re now able to take.

“You bought me something?”

He pulls a box out from under his bed. “I made Art go with me to the sex store.”

You laugh, and look at the image of a rainbow dildo on the box. “Oh wow.”

“I just read it helps to try and get used to opening up or whatever,” he says, and it’s almost like he’s nervous now. Actual Patrick Zweig getting nervous.

“Thanks for thinking about me,” you smile and he seems to relax.

“I’m always thinking about you,” he smirks.

“Want me to—“ you gesture at his erection and he licks his lips and nods his head eagerly as you bend over to take him in your mouth.

*

That night you coat the dildo with as much lube as you can and try to ease it in. It’s not crazy big which is good but you’re a little anxious, terrified that if you can’t get this to work you’ll never get to fuck him. You fall asleep feeling a little defeated and overwhelmed. You’re tense the following day but you spend the next evening with friends going to a movie. It helps a little to take your mind of things. As fun and sexy as it is doing this with Patrick every night you realize you’ve been focusing so much on it that you’ve been wound up a little tight.

You pull the dildo out again before bed and surprisingly you’re able to get it in. You let it stay there hoping it will stretch you out and that your insanely tight pelvic floor muscles will get used to the intrusion, even welcome it. After a while you start to slide it back and forth inside yourself. Trying to keep your head in the relaxed state it was in while you were having dinner with your friends. Soon you’re actively fucking yourself with it. Your breath hitching as your roommate snores not too far from you. You’re biting your tongue to keep yourself from moaning out loud. The next morning you text Patrick. Can we try it tonight?

He responds back literally one second later. Yeah come over.

He’s just out of the shower when you get there. You wrap your arms around him and breathe him in, he smells so good.

“How was the dildo?” He asks, smiling.

“Good… but I wanna try you.”

“Yeah I’m sure… no pressure okay?”

“Okay,” you say as he guides you backwards to his bed. He’s desperate to fuck you but he doesn’t want to hurt you so he’s taking his time, condom fitted tight, over doing it with the lubricant. You’re feeling antsy and eager. You had fun last night with the dildo but as you watch him you can tell he’s a little girthier. You swallow as he presses at your entrance. Maybe you can’t do this…

You feel him anchor himself and slowly he’s pressing into you. He’s not even halfway in when you’re achy and overwhelmed. “I— um— I don’t—“

“You need me to pull out?” He asks, quickly and you feel him slowly pulling back.

“No,” you say quickly, “can you just… can we stay here?” You ask.

“Uh,” he takes a breath.

”Just for a bit.”

“Uh yeah,” he’s breathless. “How about— how bout you lead?” He whispers. “Take as much as you need.” And before you both know what you’re doing you’re moving, pushing your hips up and down barely if ever proceeding beyond that point where you asked him to stop. You’re fucking yourself, practically using only half of his cock and yet it feels like so much more than the dildo. And after a minute it starts to feel good. His dick teasing along your clit, pressing heavy… back and forth inside your cunt.

”Is this okay, baby?” He whispers.

“Yes, so good,” you groan.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You’re so fucking tight baby. So fucking nngh— you’re squeezing me so tight. Feels so fucking good.” Patrick gasps. And then he’s jerking himself, while you’re basically fucking yourself onto him. Sometimes testing yourself to push your hips higher and get more of him inside. It doesn’t take long before you two are falling on each other, breathless in orgasm.

“Shit,” he sighs, falling onto his back.

You smile looking up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Did it feel okay?” He asks.

“So good,” you sigh and rest your head on his chest. He leans down to kiss your head and then tangles his fingers into your hair.

“Thanks for opening me up,” you whisper, breathless. “I know there’s probably a million other girls who woulda been ready to jump on it right away.”

“Mm I like the challenge,” he says, softly. “Speaking of… I think we got a lot more work to do.”

“We do?”

”Oh yeah, probably shouldn’t stop this any time soon. I’m really committed to a cure. The cure being turning you into a slut for my cock.” He teases.

You laugh. “Okay then pussy doc, what’s my next assignment?”

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

Could you do a one-shot where alastor is super nervous when meeting reader, not really on his face but more his body language where when she shakes his hand he continues shaking it or doesn't let go immediately. nervous smile too lol, thanks love your stuff!!

Heeey I wrote it hope you don't mind some interpretation on my part! You didn't mention why Alastor was nervous so I just did whatever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Tags: Oblivious Alastor, Cartoonist Writer, Humor, awkward affection, Alastor is either oblivious or in-denial, Nifty is Nifty and you should all love her

-----------------------

Alastor’s introduction to you was not a willing one. Charlie had started a bit of a bookclub at the Hotel as some odd attempt at bonding. Alastor wanted no part of it, but after the 532nd time Charlie asked him he said something particularly scathing and the princess was cruel and told Vaggie, and the ex-exorcist would NOT stop stabbing his door until he finally relented.

Of course, his choice of book was one called ‘Blank’. It was a notebook with nothing written in it. Very easy to discuss at a bookclub.

Charlotte was not impressed and Vagatha once again starting throwing vague threats in his direction. How tempted he was to just kill both of them, but alas this hotel has been the greatest form of entertainment he’s had in years (is what he tells himself.)

Darling Nifty came to his rescue, offering up a variety of different light-reading to be discussed in the future. Most of which were….not to his taste. Nifty’s interests highlighted most definitely, but Alastor quickly chucked the books out the window when the story turned to ….that.

As the number of books dwindled, he was just about prepared to give up on this stack entirely and fetch something meaningless to pretend to read (who’d check, anyway?).

He picked up one, a flimsy comic-book like thing and rolled his eyes once before giving it a go. The story wasn’t anything particularly interesting. The plot was just two bunnies going to get some ice cream. But the wordplay, the exaggeration of all the smallest obstacles, how self-aware and absurd it was gave him a good laugh. The Radio Demon’s first introduction to your work.

Although the bookclub idea ended up going nowhere, Alastor found himself seeking out more of your works. Another about a man just making a taco, one about a woman folding her laundry. So many little, day-to-day situations amplified to a ridiculous amount. Clever one-liners and humorous puns sprinkled throughout kept it intelligent enough for him to maintain interest despite the absurdity of it all.

Eventually he got a cartoon you drew that seemed just the same as the rest. Some random cute cartoon raccoon drawing some random little cartoon things. There was a scene in it though that stuck to Alastor’s mind (and dare he say, heart) like glue.

In it, the raccoon was confronted by a shark. “Why do you bother making these?” the shark sneered “No one reads these but you, no one looks at them but you, there’s no point.”

“Why does there need to be a point?” The raccoon said. Alastor’s ears straightened up on their own accord as he read “Even if no one sees it, it’s something I made and it’s some I enjoyed making.”

“Even if you put it out there, no one will care about it.”

“Someone will. They might not say anything but there’ll always be at least one.”

“Do you know how stupid you sound? No one gives a crap about your ‘passions’!”

“I do.”

“Do you know how stupid you sound-“

And then the raccoon pressed a button and an anvil fell onto the shark, comedically turning it into a pancake. “Your argument doesn’t have any depth.” The raccoon said. The story moved on from there.

It struck a bit of a chord with Alastor, he could admit that much to himself. And the raccoon’s way of dealing it was something he’d keep in mind for his next encounter with an annoyance. He didn’t put much stock in it, as storytellers and their stories don’t always agree on all things.

Your comics were a little joyful distraction when he needed them, that was all. Nothing deep and profound.

“BOSS!”

Alastor slammed shut the book he was reading, his grin never faltering though his twitching ears indicated a slight nervousness. He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Hello, Nifty! Did you need something?”

Nifty scamped up his chair and onto his lap, settling down andstaring up at him with her one big eye. “BOSS BOSS BOSS BOSS I MET THE DEMONESS WHO DRAWS THOSE CARTOONS YOU LIKE”

Alastor’s eye twitched “Oh? Well, that’s neat.”

She stood up, squishing his face between her hands and stared more as her grin grew wider and more manic “Did you want to meet her?”

Yes

“Now, now, Nifty.” Alastor said as he removed her hands from his face “There’s better ways to waste one’s time.”

Nifty tilted her head, staring at him as though it would allow her to see into his mind. Her expression shifted into….One he hadn’t seen on Nifty, admittedly. The best way he could describe it was ‘smug’. But what would she have to be smug about?”

“If you say so, Boss!” She chirped, hopping off his lap and trotting off “But yeah I was at the Evermore Book-Store and she was there working ‘cause I guess that’s what she does for a livng….” Nifty’s voice faded away as the little maid walked off, not caring her rambling were being said to no one.

After Alastor had finished his errands for the day, he happened by that very store…for…Reasons. Upon entering it, he realized he had no idea who- what- he was looking for. The store itself wasn’t large. A couple patrons, one large hulking demon with tiny spectacles at the desk and a much smaller one organizing shelves.

One of the workers, then?

Not that he cared.

“Pardon me!” Alastor chirped to the desk demon. Their big eyes seemed to move in slow motion to him, a low grunt accompanying the acknowledgement. “I’m looking for someone, yes? The author of some silly comics?”

The demon slowly narrowed their eyes, lips curling up into a snarl as a growl emanated from them.

“Ah, so she is here?”

The demon planted their very large hands on the desk, pushing themselves up to stand at their full height. They were taller than Alastor by a good three feet, and much more muscular as well. Their nostrils flared, blowing hot air into his face.

Alastor wasn’t the slightest bit phased. (He found it funny, actually). “So may I speak to her?”

The large demon opened up their gaping jaw-

“That’s me, hi! How can I help you?” The shelf-stacking demon interrupted, getting between Alastor and the clerk demon. A nervous little lady with a wobbly unsure smile and bags under her eyes that looked like they could carry the entirety of Hell in them.

Alastor held up one of your comics- a book that has been very obviously well-read “You’re the creator of these splendid little things?”

“Splendid…?” You repeated him, trailing off into an amused snort “Er. Yeah, I wrote and drew those.” The Clerk behind you closed their mouth, setting back down on their chair and adjusting their spectacles. The glare didn’t leave Alastor.

“Well, my dear, I find I quite enjoy them! It’s quite a pleasure to meet you.” Alastor said, not paying the larger (glowering) demon any mind. He found himself wondering why you were so tired and so timid. A woman like you should be so much more cheerful! Alastor was a tad offended….Because you weren’t smiling like he did. That’s it. Really.

“Well. I’m glad you like them.” You said. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” You offered your hand for him to shake.

One of his ears twitched. You must be fairly new to Hell, to offer a handshake so easily. Or perhaps a bit sheltered or on the naïve side. Alastor briefly considered making a sly deal to take your soul, but… Well, there was no need for that.

He took your hand and gave it a firm shake. Your hand was so much smaller than his own, but it felt as though it warmed his entire body. This was strange. Perhaps you were casting some spells on him? Why was he finding it so hard to focus- why did he feel like he didn’t know what to say next- why-

The Clerk gripped Alastor’s arm in between two fingers, gently but assertively pulling it away from you. You took half a step back, cradling your arm to your chest as if he burned you. Alastor glared up at the Clerk “Is there a problem?”

The large demon growled. You intervened again “Er….You were just. Holding my hand for a while. It was……kind of weird.”

“Ah.” Alastor cleared his throat, straightening his posture with a flourish “My apologies! Mind was elsewhere, you know how it is with us creative types.”

You blinked. Then your timid smile turned a bit more confident. A bit more…like a smirk. “Er. Yeah, I guess so. Well. See you around, I guess?”

“If I have the time, I suppose!” Alastor grinned “Well then, I must be off! Ta-ta!”

You watched as the strange demon disappeared into shadows and slivered off. As soon as all trace of him was gone, you laughed quietly into your hand “Well, I can certainly say for certain I know someone ‘awkward as hell’ now.”

Your friend groaned, gently pushing you over as they continued their own work.

[multiwreckedmess]

Helloooo. Badboy!Yunho ??👀

yesssssss what about himmmm? you raaaaang? i'm always down for Badboy!yunho but he has many FLAVORS 👀

actually oh my god idea. badboy!yunho x nerd!reader no sex just build up but AHHHHHHHHHHHHhhahhahahaaha thoughts THOUGHTS no warnings ain't nothing here.

badboy!yunho is kind of the worst group project partner. He watches you tapping away at your laptop muttering under your breath with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face. It's not the grin that's infuriating, at least one of you is having a good time, it's the fact that he's only brought his cellphone with him to his make up meeting.

You see, you'd normally just do the project alone, holed up in your dorm, but at least a portion of the final grade is based on four mandatory group meetings throughout the semester. Unfortunately Yunho had been "sick" (read: hungover) for the meeting the past Sunday and you had agreed to meet up again for extra credit.

"Have any plans tonight?"

"I suppose you're going to ask if you can leave to go pre-game with your frat bros." You don't even bother to look up from the google doc, not yet even opened by him.

"That's what you think of me?"

"Am I wrong?"

The chair creeks as he leans away from you without answering. Phone laying neglected on the table, he isn't even pretending to work. Not that he did much on the phone besides scroll on Instagram with his volume up.

"I'm sorry but I don't see the point of us meeting if you aren't going to at least contribute something. I can't imagine that your phone is your only device available," you finally scoff, patience waning thin. The space feels more like an interrogation chamber than a study nook. Frankly the oppositional stance he'd taken across from you did not help with the tension, his eyes always tracing you.

"Is my charming smile not enough of a benefit?" He flashes a winning grin at you.

"No."

"What if we fucked? Would that be considered contributing?"

"My sex life is fine, thanks." Embarrassment burns in your cheeks as you try to hold the guise of studying. The cursor blinking hopefully on the long forgotten running bibliography tab.

Yunho sees his opening. Your head ducking deeper into the laptop screen without any sounds of typing is a dead giveaway. Getting up he circles the table to stand just over your shoulder, leaning in as though he was genuinely interested in the work you were doing. "That's not what I asked."

You lamely toggle the open windows on your screen, pretending not to hear him. Despite his hushed volume, his face was close enough to yours to feel the warmth of his skin radiating.

"I wanted to know, by your definition, if we fucked if that would count as participation in the project. We're going to fuck anyway, I just want to know if I'll get credit."

Goosebumps bloom down your shoulders all the way to buzz at your fingertips. Sitting in a stunned silent, almost out of body experience, you watch as Yunho rubs your forearm gently.

"Are you cold?" He asks a little too loudly before leaning over to loosely hold you in a back hug. "Or are you just excited at the thought?"

Maybe you are a little cold. His body heat feels nice to have so close to you. He's like a big electric blanket velcro'd to you and you can't help but start to enjoy the way your shoulders fit nicely between his. "No. Yunho, I need you to focus. I need to focus."

He promptly withdraws to your side, perched over the computer still but in his own bubble. Dragging a chair to your side he watches as you type, tabbing between windows and fleshing out the outline. Slowly his head weighs his arm down and he ends up nearly laying across the table, looking up at you instead of the screen. "If I focus, will you go out with me tonight?"

"Sure." You answer curtly. Then his question hits you in the back of the head like a stack of bricks. "No, wait, what?"

His eyes a brighten. "No take backsies, you said-"

"Are you joking?" Anger and embarrassment bubbles inside of you.

"I'm yours for now but you're mine tonight."

[quarterlifekitty]

To add to my earlier ask about how I have more step-dad Nik, your add on was so good because absolutely. Yes. Sweet girl is too fucked out to ask about protection or to think of anything other than Nik fucking load after load into her. She also doesn't think to ask for protection the next day in the shower since Nik gets her so worked up with his mouth first. Makes her cum on his tongue at least twice before fucking a few more out of her and filling her again. Cleans her up too, happy to hold his sweet girl and bathe her. Now I don't know how but she manages to get Nik to let her leave a second time (Nik is getting a new house ready closer to her college so she can attend online schooling, he doesn't want her feeling stir crazy when she's further along after all) and about a month after getting back she finds out she's pregnant. And despite being absolutely terrified of the situation she doesn't want to get rid of it, or at least keeps putting it off out of nerves. She eventually asks Nik if she can come visit and he's like 'oh, I sold that house, too many memories with the ex, new house is much closer to you though, do not worry' and he picks her up. Hand on her thigh the whole way to his (their) new home. She tries to act normal and everything but Nikolai can tell his sweet girl is distressed and presses her for the reason. Eventually she caves and tearfully confesses she's pregnant and she's 'so sorry' that she was so reckless and that she swears she won't bother him with anything and she'll go and he doesn't have to worry about her. And Nik only smiles 'Ah, what makes you think I'm mad? Hmm? And on that note, what makes you think that I'm not going to keep my pretty girl right here where I can take care of her?' and while SD should definitely be nervous and the red flags should be waving she never had a great basis for healthy relationships and she is falling for Nik as ashamed as she was of it at first. She keeps asking him if he's sure and it gets to a point where he just picks her up and takes her to their bed to show her just how sure he is. Funny side note Nik fully shoots her mom a text with something like 'thanks for introducing me to my soon to be wife, you should expect grandchildren within a year. Don't expect to see them though.' (take any dialog I type as an idea of what someone says cause I'm ass at typing in character) Once again thank you for listening to my rambling

Bro please ramble here all the time forever. I love this and I owe you my life.

Nik sending his ex a picture— doesn’t have your face in it, but you’re wearing like the one piece of family jewelry you ever got from her side of the family. It’s got your baby bump, and his hand holding yours— got a pretty ring on it now, too. And then he blocks her <3

Also reader like 100% has daddy issues in this one. Like her mom is piece of work and her dad is completely absent for whatever reason— when was the last time someone took care of her? Probably back when she was physically incapable of caring for herself. From the moment she could dress and feed herself she was on her own. It’s why it’s so painfully easy for her to fall into things with Nik. After a life that kind of treatment, Nik’s brand of doting is like crack.

And I like to imagine, while she might not know this in a full conscious way, she wanted to keep the baby because she fully expected Nikolai to leave her. It’s what she’s used to— and it’s strange for her to depend on him so much when he’s just her former stepfather, no? She’s constantly second guessing herself about leaning on him even a little— that she’s probably bothering him, and he’s just too kind to tell her off. But she does love him. So things would be hard, to raise the baby on her own, but at least she’d have a piece of him with her. She could remember the moments they shared that way, even when he left her.

She’s in for the fucking, no, the lovemaking of a lifetime when she confesses that little tidbit to him.

(This is all just my humble onion as this story is yours lol but this is what goes on in my imagination realm)

[chaifootsteps]

i should've mentioned it when we were talking about tuca and bertie and them doing things right, but the arc bertie goes through with her SA and reclaiming it thru taboo fantasies is very similar to what ive been through, right down to a therapist opening me up to this new side of sexuality, and while it all happened to me years prior to the arc happening in the show, it broke me out of my anti shipper mentality that gave me this sense of justice and rigid rightness in what i was doing.

just thought now would be a good time to bring it up too because of the allegations against you and how what happened to max is basically the same thing that's happened to me. it's such an uncomfortable feeling to know someone who brought you into this world sees you like that, and having a fictional character similar to that person to self insert with in writing has helped far more then feeling disgusted with myself ever did or has, because i can stop anytime i want, or just get to a point where i move on completely from being able to gain anything from this personally. (which im leaning towards for now,) it's like bertie's therapist said, "because this time, you're in control."

i just wish antis could at least be more open to the idea that maybe, just maybe, shaming victims for coping this way isn't helpful, and that the lack of nuance implies shaming these uncontrollable fantasies (because you can't control your thoughts and like bertie's therapist said, "brains are weird!", although ive also heard the fear and arousal part of your brain is closely related which explains so many kinks to me tbh,) is the only form of healing and getting better, which it never will be. this kind of thing, of re-exploring your trauma thru fiction like this, definitely doesn't help certain people and that needs to be respected, but for anyone it does, they shouldn't just be written off as "normalizing their abuse", because im aware enough to keep this to myself, and to other people like me.

come talk to me about me "romanticizing" horrible things in fiction when you remember vivs shows have millions of views, and THATS why her writing like a fanfic author is bad - not because she inherently is one at heart. a large audience of adults should engage with these heavy topics, (and deserve to have them be written well, even if the stans swear they don't because nuh uh it's Da Best cuz mama viv made it,) not literal children. regardless of this unfortunate demographic that's naturally been formed and then unnaturally encouraged by the creator to line her pockets with their parents money, i think people have a moral obligation to tell a well written story about dark taboo subjects when they have such a large scale of production and connections like this, with some gray area in between, because theres some pieces of media that aren't as big as vivs creations or as small as fanfic writers (compared to other indie creations like video games or shows,) either, like mouthwash, or that one horror game with a sibling incest ending. that's what i mean when i said you aren't gonna make anyone want to fuck a lizard, but that vivs story's spread sentiment that would give 1970s victim blaming, "well, what was she wearing?" arguments a run for their money in how gross they are. i don't think max is gonna make anyone want to fuck their own dad either.

i hope this all makes sense! i think this is the most vulnerable ive ever been in your ask box. thank you for being someone who makes me feel strong enough to talk about this.

No, no, it makes perfect sense! Thanks for sharing your story, Anon...that was an incredibly vulnerable thing to talk about, and it couldn't have been easy.

I don't know if it's due to social media or what, but people have gotten really, really terrible at the concept of "I do my thing that works for me over here, you do your thing that works for you over there, and even though we don't understand each other, we mind our business about it." Like you said, it becomes a different conversation the more widespread and professional your piece of media is -- the same way that feeding 1,000 people a day is different than cooking for yourself -- but when we're talking about you and me and Max and all the randos on AO3? An appropriately tagged piece of work that makes a sharp distinction between fiction and reality is harmless.

What isn't harmless is telling someone that their intensely personal coping method is wrong and shameful and that they're a dangerous, evil person because it makes you uncomfortable, and that they're either a bad survivor or lying about being one.

Here's the scene from Tuca & Bertie, because it's so well done and always relevant.

[hptriadfest]

CLAIMING FOR HP TRIAD FEST 2024/2025 IS NOW OFFICIALLY OPEN!!

The moment we've all been patiently waiting for is finally here! The nearly three hundred prompts we've collected through prompting are open for claiming!

Claiming is open from JANUARY 20TH — MARCH 20TH.

✨THE PROMPT LIST✨ (to browse the prompts)

✨THE CLAIMING FORM✨ (to claim your top 3)

Before we move onto the FAQs or you run off to our claiming form to start making your fan work as soon as possible, make sure that you're familiar with the rules of this fest, especially with what constitutes a triad, and our 17+ characters and Dead Dove policies. Thank you!

Some claiming FAQs/need to knows (below the cut):

How do I claim?

The claiming process is super simple: First, go to the prompt list and find 3 prompts you like. You can choose from both batches of prompts - the new ones and the old ones - they're all up for the picking. You need to pick 3 prompts because each prompt can only be picked once for Art and once for Writing. Make sure your 3 prompts are not claimed for your chosen medium. After you have chosen your prompts, go to the claiming form and fill out the information. The number of the prompt is in the first column of the google sheet (not the row number!). Select which medium you want to create in; you can claim a prompt for Art or Writing or both. When all your information is filled in, submit the form and wait patiently for a confirmation email from us!

How many prompts can I claim?

You can claim one prompt at a time. This means that you can claim additional prompts only after you finished and posted your first work. When that's done, inform the mods about your submission and claim a new prompt. Aside from this, there are no limits! You can repeat the process as many times as you want until the claiming closes on March 20th.

How do I know which prompt I got?

Once you finish filling out the claiming form and submit it, you will receive an email letting you know that your claim has been received. This email will also have the information about which of your three chosen prompts were given to you - as claims work on a first come-first serve basis - and then when you have this information you can begin your working on your fanwork!

How do I self-prompt?

The first step is to browse the prompt list to check the prompt list that your idea hasn’t been created as a prompt yet - if it has, great, you can claim that prompt normally! If this is not the case, though, simply select the self-claim option and then ž fill in the form with your original prompt!

When are the fanworks due?

April 20th!

What if I have more questions or concerns?

You can send us an ask here on Tumblr, shoot us an email at hptriadfest@gmail.com OR contact the mods on Discord. We'll do our best to help you out!

As a reminder, claiming is open for two months - until March 20th 2025, so you have plenty of time to pick your prompt and get those creative juices flowing!

We wish you loads of inspiration and if you need some people to chat with while you get all your ideas straightened up: join our Discord! See you there and happy creating season! And good luck!

✨PROMPT LIST✨

✨CLAIMING FORM✨

HP Triad Fest is an anonymous fest celebrating triads — romantic relationships between three equal parties of any gender, binary and sexuality — within the Harry Potter universe by inviting participants to create prompt-based fanworks centred around them! It's hosted on Archive of Our Own and supported via Tumblr and Discord.

[deadhands69]

Okay who in mha do you think gives the best head? I love Bakugo and while I do think he’d be great I just know it’s Kirishima. But I’d love to hear your thoughts 🫶

Of the guys? (okay, this got a bit out of hand - great question!)

MDNI, obviously

I'm assuming most of them would have next to no experience into their twenties because hero work is demanding and they're pretty distracted. That said, in no particular order:

You're definitely onto something with Kirishima. He would care so much to get it right the first time. Like he’s probably googled it, watches instructional videos, and asks sooo many questions to make sure he does well. Specifically watches your response and asks you what you're into, even if he's had a little experience before you. His teeth scare me a bit, but he'd probably be careful.

Winner for great from the start.

Bakugo would probably be sloppy at first (and maybe use a lot of teeth? Canonically, he's very toothy, which doesn't not have it's place…) I don't see him being good at it instantly. He'd probably get a lot better really fast though, he's observant.

Winner if you're into teeth and are willing to give feedback.

Amajiki might be the winner overall, as long as you don't look at him. There's something meticulous and overly talented at everything about him as long as he's not too anxious. So maybe throw a blanket over him or something and he'll be great. I think I just love the idea of super quiet shy guy being amazing at giving head. Not to mention, his quirk is kind of cheating in that regard (....)

Winner for obvious reasons and he just seems like he'd try really hard (unless you like to watch)

Oooh but also Hawks. He seems really eager to please and probably has way more experience than any of them so he knows what he's doing. Also seems like the type to make a show out of it.

Winner if you like to watch and don't want to put work into it.

On the note of experience, Aizawa. He'd be way less showy about it and he'd probably tell you what to do the whole time/overstimulate you until you can't possibly take it any longer. If you're into that, he's great.

Winner if you're looking for someone more dominant.

Kaminari would be so excited. Like maybe not so good on technical skills at first and he'd probably take a few more times to learn but sheer volume of attempts, he'd be better at it in no time if you told him what to do. You could be doing anything and he'd be begging you to let him practice. This man would absolutely worship you. Which is super hot in it's own way.

Winner if you get off on feeling wanted.

Shigaraki would probably be really awkward the first time but he'd feel weird about that and do a ton of research and suddenly he'd be really good out of nowhere. He adapts quickly. He'd probably still shy away from using his hands too much so if you're into that, might take a while before he feels comfortable. 10/10 face to sit on though, just pull his hair and tell him what to do.

Winner for subby/face sitting/he'd do exactly what you say.

Shouto Todoroki obviously has some oral fixation considering that half of his personality seems to be built around food, but I think it would take him a long time to figure out what to do. Like, he'd want to and his quirk could be really fun but (plz don't kill me todoroki stans) he has some solid needs to be told where the clit is energy. He's probably be pretty lost then eventually become insanely good at it. Like calculated and know exactly what to do to be more efficient and get you there faster/more times.

Winner if you want to put a lot of work into it/want to have someone whose skills are built entirely around you.

Also, you cannnooooot tell me Dabi doesn't have his tongue pierced. So, winner for that.

Short answer, I guess it depends on what you're looking for and how long you're willing to wait to get there!

Thanks for the ask, this was fun!

[alchemicourtesy]

HEYEY! glad to see more people into vat7k!!! Would you mind sharing more of the insight n what your perceptions of the characters are? I saw your post about Hugo n Var as well as the involvement with Nuru in the tags and was wondering!!! No pressure ofc <3 also love your art it's REALLY AWESOME !

hi! thank you so much :] im rlly glad ur interested... as new as i am to this story and world i'm still ironing out my own opinions and headcanons and ideas so everything is in a rough place atm but i'd love to talk about what i Do have right now ^^

i'm sort of operating under the idea of what this would look like if it were a tv show rather than a comic only for the sake of structure and me being able to visualize it haha. doesnt mean anything beyond that.

i love the idea of there being 7 kingdoms, 7 alchemic laws, and 7 "lessons" for the characters to learn and id probably divide it through 3 seasons with the last season focusing on either 2 or 1 (heavy emphasis on what would be the "library arc") and allocating the extra "arcs" to s1. but anyways

mainly i like the idea of like. each of the group getting a chance to shine an equal amount. obviously they'd all have something to gain from every lesson but imo id put a particular emphasis on them all getting 2 each to hammer home their development and experiences. i havent ironed out who learns what and its not like...an exact science rn so thats a work in progress

nuru is interesting to me in particular bc i think theres a notable position she is in being a princess and wanting to be hands on. for her character particularly i feel like its important she be able to learn how to care for her subjects and hone the skills she needs for the responsibility she has but also allowing herself to understand herself as a person and an individual without having to sacrifice her duty to her people and her community. too many times i see in media where a character has this huge responsibility and they have to learn to care about and understand Themselves first and while thats important i feel like its not always possible or feasible and also it's hard. it's rlly hard to grapple with both of those things at the same time. and nuru being a princess she Wants to help her people. she Wants to have the responsibility to care for them but she still must learn what that will look like for her specifically and how she can be that person she wants to be without phoning it in or anything.

with yong i saw it was mentioned he has a huge loving family that supports him and wants to see him succeed, but he's just sort of wild and unpredictable in ways i think varian can relate to from when he was younger. there's nothing really "wrong" with yong, but he has to understand and learn balance and control where he struggles with it and that he can be the person he wants to be but there has to be instances where he takes his time and understands that progress isnt linear. which gives varian a good place to act as an older brother figure obviously bc thats shit he himself learned in tts lol

varian's arc Kind of began and ended in tts so i just see vat7k as a way of expanding on stuff he already has learned yet not rlly like. rehashing stuff he should already know

hugo is a little trickier for me bc i think there are a Lot of similarities he shares narratively with eugene (which makes sense given that he was said to have been acquainted with eugene in the past, at least somewhat). they're similar but they're not the Same, so i wouldnt want hugo to just be repeating the same beats that eugene already learned. in my opinion hugo is smug and he thinks somewhat highly of himself, but hes not a bragger. hes not snarky nor will he actively antagonize the group. what reason would he have to? he wants them to like and trust him and i dont rlly see that happening if hes always being a jerk to them haha.

thats all i got for now i think but feel free to ask me abt more stuff if ur interested : )

[brucewaynehater101]

your posts about Tim being the parent in his time with Bruce+ Richard's parentification + Tim always planning of being a placeholder, got me thinking

What if Tim started off like that, playing parent for Bruce, ensuring he doesn't cross any lines or overworks himself

And just never stop?

His civilian life is starting to crack, and he's doing worse than he could be, but Batman has to be taken care off

In comes Jason who tries to kill him (great another Bruce) so his workload is doubled, and also Damian who has to be untaught murder

Well it's an escalation of what he's used to, but if he can deal with Batman, he can deal with his kids, time to bust out the books on therapy and deprogramming cult teachings

Besides, he's a placeholding for the two of them until they're better like Batman, so who better to teach them the ropes than him?

Let's toss in comments here and there that will clear misunderstandings between the Bats (excluding himself— he's temporary) and what about their interactions keeps the family apart

Like boy is neglecting himself to high hell, only stopping when it's literally impossible, and barely has a civilian life, but it's worth it for Gotham's betterment and the Batfamily's stabilization

Timestream? Well shit, he has to get Bruce back as per his job of keeping the family in order but the family is either not getting better or worse,

Let him just leave a bunch of personalized self-help guides and programmed schedules that'll ensure the bats are getting better while he's away

Oh hey Ra's, midn if I secretly learn everything about how Damian grew up in this fine League of yours so I can teach Damian what is so wrong about his childhood once I'm home?

So everything is getting better post BruceQuest, Richard can be a brother more (because Tim took on his job as parent-brother), Damian and his family are able to bond and understand each other (because Tim untaught an awful upbringing) and Jason feels like a member of the family (because Tim got Jason up to speed with how much he has always been loved) plus Bruce gets to be a father with his kids (because Tim kept the man out of his otherside inevitable self-made grave)

And say Batfamily, in a miracle of communication, realize that Tim has subsumed Bruce's role as caretaker and father

Not to the entire family of course, but even parenting for one sibling or parent as a kid yourself is one too many

And they remember all the comments Tim said to help the family get better subtly suggesting everybody but Tim is family

Like he's said "Your family," never "Our"

He says "You're a Wayne, a member of their family,"

He has to be referred to as Tim and Drake, never Wayne to catch his attention

And also imagine Richard saying "You can't keep being a parent to your brothers and father" and Tim going "glass houses, *tires to parent Rich*"

"NO—"

The shit storm that would happen if the batfamily realized that Tim donned Robin with the intention of always playing parent for Bruce, and then leaving once his intervention isn't need anymore

Yes! I absolutely love the ideas you incorporated with this. I didn't manage to hit all of them in my post, but I tried to expand upon them a bit:

At first, Tim wouldn't realize that's what he's doing. He just wants to help Bruce (even if that includes taking away the Batmobile keys, locking him out of the batcomputer, and using a rewards system when the man successfully takes care of his wounds).

Tim only comes to the realization that he's Bruce's parent when the YJ are being lectured by their mentors. At this point, the team has done far more dangerous stunts and missions than whatever the JL was lecturing them about. When the mentors come, Robin allows Batman to lecture him in front of the others. Tim knows they have to keep up appearances and can listen to a hypocritical discussion from Bruce to maintain the image of Batman Tim has spent so much time propping up.

After the other mentors leave, Tim pulls Batman into a private room for a chat. Bart, fearing that Robin is getting a second lecture, almost bursts in to save Tim. He's slowed down by the glare Tim sends his way. He's stopped by the conversation he overhears.

Tim, with his hands on his hips as he glares up into the cowl, lectures Bruce on all the behavior issues the man displayed the month that the YJ were away.

Bruce is just standing there, head slightly hung, as Tim goes on.

"This is why I feel I can never get away, B. I can't even leave you for a month before your excessive force statistics skyrocket! What am I supposed to do with you?"

Bart quickly leaves as he has a mental breakdown at this discovery. Two hours later, when Batman leaves, Bart asks Robin if he's Batman's father. Tim laughs it off at first, but after Bart lays out the evidence, Tim spirals for a few days at this discovery.

Once Tim accepts that he *is* like Bruce's dad, he decides to just embrace it. He and Alfred can share custody of the man-child (and this is also why Tim has the view of family that he does. His three examples of being a father are his own dad who constantly leaves, Alfred who maintains a professional distance, and Bruce who's his grieving son). Tim sees Dick as his brother, but he sees Bruce as his kid. It's confusing as hell, complicated, and Tim also doesn't see himself as part of the family at the same time.

While the teen is finally settling into his role as Bruce's parent, Jason comes back and tries to kill him. He doesn't know whether or not to laugh that Jason becomes his new responsibility at the same place Bruce officially (in Tim's mind) became Tim's.

The teen treats Jason similar to a grandson and son. He parents Bruce on how to interact with Jason, takes a few college classes and reads a few textbooks on PTSD, and interrogates LoA agents on the Pit. He slowly starts to feed them both phrases and perspectives so that they understand and interact with each other better. He almost wants to hit them both upside the head for their miscommunication.

It's not great, and Tim is so fucking tired, but they are getting closer to being a family. Tim can almost taste his retirement.

Then Damian comes into the family and tries to kill him. Tim wants to scream.

Damian isn't exactly friendly to Tim, but the teen spots a breakthrough when he catches how Dick and Damian interact. He, in what he later calls foolishly, drops some of the weight onto Dick's shoulders. Tim's tired trying to wrangle both Jason and Bruce into somewhat, even unhealthily, communicating with each other.

Then Bruce dies. It's unfair because Tim has lost someone who's both his son and his father to him. No one except Cassie could know about the amount of grief Tim is under because of that. Cassie, who Tim isn't talking to after the whole basement scientist cloning thing.

So, Tim finds evidence that Bruce is alive. He watches as Dick cracks under the weight of Batman and being a father to Damian. He's hurt (oh gods does it burn to lose his self-made but suffocating role that ties him to Bruce), but he understands why Dick gives Damian Robin.

Tim leaves, and he starts to discover himself. He became an adoptive father at thirteen. For once, even though he's heavily lost in the thralls of grief, he's free of that responsibility. He only has to take care of himself (an exhausting task he's never quite accomplished before) and he doesn't rely on anyone.

Still, despite his freedom, he sees Ra's offer for what it is. It's an opportunity to learn more about Damian. Bruce will need Tim's support when he returns, after all. If he takes down Ra's both for himself and Damian, that's neither here nor there.

When Bruce finally returns home, Tim starts to see his retirement again. He sees the progress he's enacting out of the family in all of their relationships. Like Tim's messy relationship with Bruce, Dick is both a father and brother to Damian. Jason and Bruce will occasionally meet at a diner. Damian and Bruce will have father-child outings outside of Batman and Robin. Cass returns home more often. Steph barges into the Manor for food or bugs different Bats on patrol. Babs is able to take time for herself outside of wrangling the Bats together. Duke is starting to join the family, but Tim doesn't imagine too much tension or difficulty with that transition. They'll be fine without him.

It's looking up. Tim can leave behind his the Wayne family.

Then Damian points out how Tim often uses "your" or "their" instead of "our" family.

Godsdamnit.

[mx-pastelwriting]

Saving My Fanfiction Work

First. Side note: This post was only intended to give resources to fanfiction writers and enjoyers. My talk on recent political events was a context/reasoning on why I made this post. Also I’ve had to add more information to this post over time due to people’s confusion in my comments. Explaining it was to make sure that this post didn’t come off as out of the blue for my followers and this community. Which is fanfiction.

Also, why I made this post was from people asking if they could download my fanfiction because of the recent political events in America hence why I named it “saving my fanfiction work” and added my context. So this was also a post to tell people that liked my fanfiction they could download it as long as it was for their personal collection. I merely just wanted to list resources to people who wanted to download fanfiction and don’t know where to start or don’t have the immediate resources. I’m not here to fear-monger. I am just giving resources and the reasoning on why I’m giving them along with urging people to look into those information/recent events as staying aware is important. I respect everybody who’s given their opinion and yes, some of my grammar in this post is not adequate as this post was merely made for giving/stating resources.

Lastly, I will no longer update this post with comments as I’ve said my peace, nor will I pay attention to the notifications as they are muted. As my page is for fanfiction not politics. Thank you for the people in this community who share this post for the resources see you around the tags! Stay safe friends!!✨ Remember I love you! And you are loved!💛

-

Due to the recent events in the United States. To clarify the recent events being Trump becoming president of the United States, Project 2025 more than likely going to be integrated. If you are not familiar with Project 2025 I urge you to look it up.

Along with the KOSA bill that has many problems and it has passed the senate now needing the finally vote in the house, which both are majority red. Go here to learn more on why it needs to be stopped and how you can. This is another component that will harm our communities. Go to: stopkosa.com

With all of its harmful plans some of the plans are to take down/restrict internet sites that have LGBTQ+ communities that means communities like the fan-fiction communities/sites in the United States.

I am only giving resources to those inside and out of the US in case they banned sites that hold fan-fiction. Better safe than sorry.

Being that I live in the US the possibly of mine and many others Fanfiction has the possibly of being in danger. Therefore I'm giving you recourses. (I'm not leaving or stopping my writing, I'm here for the fight!)

For those wanting to save my fanfiction, I give you permission to download them off of AO3 and to be used for your personal collection. Meaning, your eyes only. To clarify I’m saying this as others have asked if they could download my fanfic so for those who would like to you can.

If you do not know how to download them many others on online have tutorials on how to download them and add them to our phone libraries.

Here are some links to tutorials:

Downloading Fanfic

Adding to Iphone & Android Library

Adding to Kindle Library - Video on How (On TikTok)

Adding Book Covers (At the bottom) - Good EPUB Cover Changer (I use this)

Types of Files and What they mean

Please stay safe out there! Remember to follow the rules below.

DO NOT share the downloaded file anywhere online.

DO NOT repost the downloaded file under your name.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

Please stay safe out there friends! I love you so much! Know that there will always people that love you and in for the fight to make sure you are loved!

And here are some resources in case you don’t feel okay! Resources here

[norikuna]

SHE TOLD YOU THAT SHE CELIBATE, SHE TOLD ME I COULD NAIL HER SH*T — gojo satoru minors dni

PART I. of the new years letters, a series of fics dedicated to some of my lovely mutuals! 🎁

prologue. → you wish gojo satoru would stop trying to ask you out. not that you don't like him, but dating the one guy that you're smacked silly about would mean that he could break your heart and leave you in ruins. so it's best to keep some distance right?

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. college au, reader wears a skirt, reader is choso's twin and yuuji's older sister, but no appearance detailed. kissing, making out, óral (f) receiving, general bitchiness and fuckups 😚 ensemble cast of poor bystanders (geto, shoko, sukuna, yuki etc)

word count. 10k! song inspiration. gang baby — nle choppa

a/n. it's because of that one edit by satorupedia that's going around rn. yall know which one 😭 art by touno_stupa on twt!

dedication. yayyy decided to start my little gift series for new years with this fic inspired and dedicated to @fushitoru who was one of the first blogs i followed on here before i was super familiar with jujutsu kaisen. aashi writes thee most wonderful gojo fics that are so well characterised and heart-stoppingly adorable and HAWT. 😁 🤭 and i easily associate her with physics/college au gojo now, ever since her spiderman gojo fic that lives in my head!!!!

gojo in this fic:

ACT I. don't puck around and find out!

"i ran into gojo today," choso says, his voice as unbothered and monotone as ever, scraping the gravel lazily with the heel of his scuffed combat boots, "or he ran into me."

"gojo satoru?"

"how many gojos do we know?" your twin brother huffs, giving you a dry side-eye. but before you can retort something equally acrid, he's yanking at the sleeve of your sweatshirt, halting you midstep, "wait. car."

you blink out of your tired daze just in time to see a battered camry putter past, its engine groaning like it's on its last legs. just how you feel after a long day of seminars and lectures. the car rattles down the street with the grace of a tin can tied to a string.

"thanks," you mutter, half-heartedly as you shift your laptop case from one tired arm to the other, "could have been the end of my genius academic career."

"would have been a short one either way," choso quietly quips, earning himself a sharp elbow to the ribs.

"so?" you press on.

"so, what?"

"what did gojo say?"

"ohhh," choso drawls, in that irritating way of his that indicates he has no idea how to deliver good gossip, news or any form of tea, "he asked if i wanted to play hockey for his team tomorrow. they're down a player ever since kento went on exchange."

"hockey?" your eyebrow arches, and skepticism curls your lips for choso is hardly known for his athleticism. you mean, you're sure he has the physical ability in him somewhere but you (and the rest of the world) are yet to see it, "are you gonna join the team, then?"

not that you care about gojo's stupid, state-tournament winning team. of course not. you're just curious. and curiosity is harmless.

it has nothing to do with the fact that you woke up last night wanting to jump gojo satoru's bones. just like you did the night before, and before. and the week before that. yeah, suffice to say that this has been going on for a while.

"nah," choso says, shaking dull, greasy strands of dark hair out of his eyes, "got placements tomorrow."

right. placements. choso's all about pathology and lab medicine and test tubes, while you get queasy at the mere mention of haemoglobin. and it unsettles you mildly at how your twin brother's eyes light up at the mere mention of a blood test.

"and?" you prod when he starts to drift off again, his attention wandering like it always does.

choso is often like a calm river. slow, broad and lazy.

this time, you pull at his one of his headphone cords to reel him back, "did gojo say anything else?"

choso gives you that dull look, quiet but loaded. like he's already solved a puzzle that you didn't know you were trying to hide. it just makes your stomach twist, "why do you care what gojo satoru says?"

"i don't," you snap, far too fast, like your tongue is racing your brain to a crash site. the lie sits heavy in your throat, thick and obvious.

choso's pale and dry lips twitch, and you wondered what happened to the lip balm you threw into his christmas stocking last year, "should i have told him you could sub in for his team instead?"

"no-one likes a smartass, cho," you grumble, speeding up your steps as your twin leisurely rummages through his fraying backpack for his house keys. you roll your eyes and push ahead, jamming your own keys into the lock before you die of boredom waiting for him to dig through the trash heap that lies at the bottom of his bag, "anyway, i was just asking. you brought gojo up."

choso trails behind you, his tone infuriatingly casual, "you always get weird when someone mentions him. i thought you guys were friends."

"we are friends. and i don't get weird."

"you get so weird. even yuki said so."

"i love yuki, i do. but she has no idea what she's talking about —"

the door swings open, cutting off your false deflection. standing there is yuuji, with half a sandwich dangling from his mouth like he's some kind of feral creature. there's a smear of mayonnaise clinging to his cheek as he yanks a red, track hoodie over his tank top.

"mmph! hey, you guys!" he muffles through a mouthful of bread, waving at you with the enthusiasm that only a teenage boy could muster after inhaling half the fridge.

"where are you off to?" you peer at your younger brother, your eyes zeroing in on his mutilated sandwich. a sandwich that you're certain you made for yourself this morning, leaving it for a study session upon your return.

"track practice," yuuji says, swallowing the last bite whole, "then dinner with fushiguro and kugisaki." he's already halfway down the driveway, sneakers untied and laces flopping on the pavement behind him.

choso narrows his eyes, "got money? or a water bottle? a hat? did you wear sunscreen?"

"i'm good!" yuuji calls back without breaking stride, waving a quick hand at the two of you.

"why don't you hold his hand and walk him to school, mother?"

"shut up," choso grumbles as he brushes past you into the house, throwing you an exaggerated scowl of wounded, elder-brother pride over his shoulder, "why don't you hold gojo's hand to hockey practice?"

your bookbag swings through the air, connecting to the back of choso's oversized head and a loud thud follows.

ACT II. long overdue and lacking a spine

you had been in this library for hours, eyes blurring as the words in your textbook stubbornly refused to make sense. it was all a gross blur of terms and diagrams, and your $8.00 coffee had gone lukewarm an hour ago.

study, pass, graduate. get a good gpa. that was the plan, no distractions.

your phone, however, had other ideas as it sat innocently next to your stack of notes. you tapped the screen quickly under the guise of a 'quick break' but before long, you were deep into instagram stories. someone's dog, a flyer for a rave that you definitely weren't going to, and then, of course, him.

gojo satoru. on someone's reposted story with a classic, grainy photo of one of the campus's most darling boys. long arm draped casually over some girl. both of them lit in the neon glow of what looked like a party bus. he wasn't even looking at the camera, just flashing that effortless grin that you had seen your entire life growing up. and the girl was gorgeous, obviously. not that you cared about that.

but speak of the devil and he hath appear. a long shadow fell over the table, and you felt the chill in your bones, trying not to shift in your seat.

"go away, gojo," you muttered, not even deigning to look up.

"how'd you know it was me?" his voice is teasing, all light and airy as he's pulling out the chair next to you.

"what can i say? lucky guess," you reply dryly, keeping your eyes glued to the suspiciously-stained textbook. worried that you'll look up and your iron resolve will disappear from one glance at big, blue eyes.

but out of the corner of his eye, you try not to twitch at the sight of the soft, pale blue hoodie that swallows his broad frame whole. thick, white strands of hair that fall gently over his face. and that cloying scent of mint and something faintly sweet that leaves your ears hot and your heart sitting in your throat.

study, pass, graduate. get a good gpa. that's what you tell yourself in a now failing mantra.

"are you following me today?" you ask, flipping a page with exaggerated nonchalance, like you're not about to tear up pathetically from a stupid crush.

"caught me," gojo says, the grin audible even in his voice, "i just couldn't resist finding you. is that what you want me to say?"

you finally look up, swallowing at unfairly fine features, "saw you were at some party yesterday. i didn't think you'd be on campus today."

gojo just laughs, the sound soft and infuriating, "keeping tabs on me now?" and he's rifling through his bag for something, "or you don't think the library's a good look for me? i'm broadening my horizons. testing the waters."

you narrow your eyes, willing the heat rising in your face to stay put and not crawl into your voice, "i think you're testing my patience. i have a test tomorrow, so if you're here to waste my time..."

"maybe i just wanted to hang out with my friend," gojo says, tearing open a kitkat wrapper in an obnoxious way that echoes through the silent hall, and the crinkle of plastic grates against your nerves, "we haven't seen each other in ages."

"don't you have a lot of other people to hang out with nowadays?" you're mentally beating yourself with a bat at your question, wincing at how it sounds like you keep count of who he hangs out with, and you're pathetically down bad for him. like a 90s singer begging on his knees for a kiss.

"i mean, i could hang out with them," gojo says, breaking his kitkat horizontally like a monster, "but they're not you."

his sunglasses are gone, revealing eyes so blue they look otherworldly, and he's throwing you that smiling, lopsided grin that makes your heart run around a room and bang into the walls. but no. you were not going to let gojo satoru get to you. he probably made every girl feel like this, like they were the centre of his fast-paced universe. until the next shiny thing came along.

besides, gojo satoru dated models. or stunning cheerleaders. the kind of people who looked good under strobe lights, and in the glow of his party bus digital camera pics.

and hey, it's not like you were self-depreciating or awfully insecure. you liked who you were and you would never change it for anyone. quiet and ambitious. reserved, but down for some fun. you'd like to think you were the type of person who saw the world in a beautiful, cinematic light. but it was maddening how gojo satoru seemed to bring out the most juvenile issues in you that had your stomach turning itself into ugly knots.

"gojo," you try to sound as nonchalant as possible, "are you even here to study?"

as in why are you really here? please ask me out.

gojo looks unbothered, unshaken, "coffee. cake. maybe even some flirting, if you're up to it."

the universe hates you. it has a way of delivering what you want right into your hands, when...you don't exactly want it.

you blink at the white-haired man, disbelief bubbling under your skin, "you're not serious."

"why wouldn't i be?"

"c'mon, satoru. everyone knows you're not the actual dating type. you ever been in a relationship that wasn't pr and lasted for more than two weeks?"

absolutely bonkers at how your heart and your tongue are not on the same wavelength at all. it's like your mouth missed the memo and is just firing bullets that have gojo's grin faltering a bit, as a flicker of heated annoyance flashes in his eyes. even hurt, but it's gone too quickly for you to read into it.

"didn't realise that you thought i was that much of a joke," and you're not fond of how gojo's voice is quieter now, and a pretty sneer is dancing across his lips. you're biting your lip before you lose your stupid, petty resolve to not get involved with someone who could truly break your heart.

"if you didn't make everything a joke, it wouldn't be," you snap at him, and you're not even sure what you're angry at. there's no reason to be annoyed, or frustrated or even hurt and snippy with a friend who came and sat with you to catch up.

but you don't want to untangle whatever you're projecting onto gojo satoru, so you let bitter words spill over, "some of us don't have time for your games, gojo. we have real lives to deal with."

gojo's expression shifts completely, and that playful spark in his eyes is replaced with something colder as he stands up and shoves his hands into his pockets, "right." and his tone is clipped, pissed, "got it. no time for games."

you watch as gojo walks away, already tapping away on his phone, but his footsteps are quieter than you expect. part of you wants to call after him, to take back the teeth and claws that painted your words.

but instead, you just look away from him and grimace. you must have pulled an awful, twisted face — for the man sitting across from you leans in and asks if you need to take an aspirin, or if you're low on fibre.

ACT III. between the covers

the bookstore smells faintly of old paper and new ink. a sharp contrast to the chill lingering outside, so the warmth hits you like a welcome blanket. the air buzzes with the muted chatter of customers, and the occasional beep of a cash register.

you're winding your way through the aisles, set on two missions. find that jacket-cover book that you had been wanting for weeks, and to hunt down the manga that yuuji had begged you to pick up for him.

you dart past a couple lingering in front of a 'booktube' bestseller display, narrowing avoiding a child wielding a stuffed dragon that you can only assume is smaug the magnificent from the hobbit. straight into the quieter section of the store, tucked in the back and smack-bang right into —

thud!

your shoulder collides hard with someone else, sending you stumbling back a step.

"fuck's sake. watch it," the person snaps, his tone sharp.

"maybe you should —" you start to retort, before the words die and patter out on your tongue as your mouth goes dry.

gojo satoru, ladies and gentlemen.

he's scowling at you, with sunglasses pushed up onto his head that expose those ridiculously pale eyelashes under the glow of the overhead lights. he's layered on a crisp varsity jacket, over a thick hoodie, all shades of soft blue and grey. and he looks irritated, with thick brows furrowed at you. but you don't miss the faint surprise that flutters across his face when he takes you in.

"seriously?" gojo murmurs, though more to himself, and his voice still holds an edge that has you wilting, "out of all the aisles in this store..."

you blink, caught somewhere between an apology that dances on the edge of your lips, and a bewildered laugh at how the divine powers deliver the worst luck on you. instead, you shove your hands deep into the pockets of your aviator jacket, "sorry. didn't see you."

gojo's shoulders relax, but just barely. as though he's still caught in the heavy fog of tension from your last words to him. but to your mild credit, he doesn't quite look ready to storm out either. progress?

"so. what are you doing here?" you ask, trying to break the ice and pretend that you're not doing internal pirouettes.

"just had to pick up a textbook," gojo mutters, holding up a thin and over-priced looking book on something like...quantum mechanics, "exams are coming up. gotta keep the top spot, you know."

you blink, "you're actually studying?"

gojo raises his eyebrow, lips twitching into the faintest smile, "what? you think i roll into my classes and ace everything through sheer willpower? or i spend all day being a joke and annoying everyone, right?"

you sigh, feeling the frosty, ice-gaze settle once more over you, paralysing you from head to toe, "look, gojo. i don't know what came over me that day," and now you're being sincere, looking away from his narrowed stare, "it's like some crazy, evil monster came over me and it possessed me. i think i incarnated some demon king in me and i said all that mean shit."

he shifts slightly beside you, and you don't miss at how gojo's lower lip juts out at your apology, or how close he is to you right now. "and i was jus' being stupid. swear i don't think you're a joke." you try to pick up some random book, pretending you're very busy as you speak.

but it's very hard to look genuine when you've just picked up a glossy copy of 'stand and deliver: a hard look at fixing male erection problems.'

it earns you a small laugh, light and quick, that has you almost falling to your knees, and you can hear choso's voice in your head. muttering out a dulcet 'i told you so. you want him so bad.' but it's worth it as gojo leans against the nearest shelf, the annoyance from earlier starting to ebb.

and for a moment, gojo studies you and his expression is unreadable. for your part, you're pretending to read the back cover of 'stand and deliver' and some blurb about how this award-winning author managed to help her husband 'get it up' after twenty years of marriage.

but the tension in his posture dissolves, relaxing further and gojo hums, "noted." that's all he says, and an awkward silence hovers. it hovers so uncomfortably, leaving you floundering for a new topic until gojo's voice breaks the silence.

"choso's doing good, yeah? i heard he got a girlfriend."

you smile, "yeah. yuki, she's like really cool. i don't know how he did it."

gojo snickers, "i asked if he wanted to play hockey and i think he's been avoiding me all week."

you try to pretend its not because of how you re-enacted your little spat with gojo, demonstrating the entire thing for your twin brother. who had just called you stupid afterwards. among other not-so-flattering terms, with little consideration for your crushing, beating heart.

"you going to suguru's party next weekend?"

ah, now that's a curveball.

because, again, you are your own brand of cool. or so you'd like to think, so this isn't really a matter of pitying comparison. but geto suguru is like on another level of effortlessly vogue. at least in your eyes. you know that he's gojo's best friend and he delivered a (controversial) and killer project on gene editing last semester. you know that geto's involved with gig photography as a hobby, and thus, has personal access to some of the coolest bands in the city.

and you also know that he occasionally waves a hand to you, but it's not like you actually know the man. it's just mutual association.

"i wasn't planning on it," you hesitate, for you really had been planning to cram through a mid-term session, "but someone asked me to go as their date."

gojo's smile evaporates, "who?"

"naoya zenin," you say cautiously, watching as gojo's face twists. like he's resisting the urge to gag and tear his hair out.

"naoya? he's like a walking billboard for being an entitled cunt," gojo groans, running a hand through glossy hair that has you trailing your gaze over slender, sculpted hands.

you narrow your eyes, "he seemed...okay. smart, i think."

"oh, he's smart. i'm not questioning that," gojo crabs, "he's so arrogant though. i grew up seeing that guy everywhere. our families were like, half friends."

you cross your arms, suddenly defensive, "are you warning me? or just mad that he asked me out?"

gojo seems to flounder for half a second, quick enough that you could miss it and he could deny it, "jealous of naoya? please," and he scoffs as he leans back against the shelf, "i have taste. unlike some people."

"you can't be the one giving me a lecture on dating etiquette. i mean, how many dates do you have lined up for geto's party? two, three?"

gojo gives you a sly grin, "more than that, hah. gotta keep my options open."

"tacky," you wrinkle your nose, trying to pretend that you don't feel like you just guzzled a gallon of curdled milk, "and classless."

"yes," gojo sighs sadly, "and endlessly charming. it's so hard being me," shooting you back a quizzical look as he pulls up to the register, paying for his textbook.

as he paid, you linger near the shelves, pretending to browse while stealing glances at gojo satoru. there was something different about him today, something quieter that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

and on gojo's way out, he pauses in the doorway, turning back to look at you. his expression is still entirely unreadable, his gaze lingering for just a second longer than usual. and then he was gone.

ACT IV. blush confidential

there's a soft hum of pop music wafting from someone's phone, blending in with the rustle of fabric and the hiss of a straightener. your bedroom is a whirlwind of motion and chaos, with clothes thrown over chairs, and pre-game drinks piled up over your vanity.

"i can't believe you're not coming with us," you gripe to yuki, watching as she lounged up on your bed, denim crinkling as she shifted to adjust herself.

"tch, you know i love a good party," yuki grins with sparkling ideas, "but choso and i have a date tonight. he's been texting me about it all day."

you snicke at the thought of your hapless twin, "yeah. he was practically glued to your dm's. ran into the kitchen table twice this morning."

shoko snorts from her spot at the vanity, from where she's running a brush through cropped, chestnut hair, "choso nervous? i need to see that," she catches your eye in the mirror, "do you still have that lip gloss?"

"on it," you're digging into the vast depths of your purse, grazing your wallet and a hal-featen granola bar. stubbing your finger on an opened gel pen, before clutching a small shiny tube that you toss to shoko.

"so," shoko smacks her lips, "how's it going with naoya?"

you blink, pausing in the middle of capping all your drying pens, "what do you mean how's it going? nothing's going."

your friend swivels on her stool, raising a thin eyebrow, "he's your date at this party, right? and why him, of all people?"

"seriously. that guy's got a reputation. and not a good kind, for a very good reason," utahime chimes in from her corner, where she's yanking on a ribbon woven through her hair.

you shrug, suddenly feeling defensive under their collective scrutiny, "hey. he asked, i said yes. it's not that deep."

shoko exchanges a pointed glance with utahime, and both of them looking equally skeptical in a way that has you flushing.

"he's just annoying, you know," shoko points out, "he thinks he's better than everyone else, and half the time? it's just hot air."

"and the other half?"

"still hot air," shoko flatlines, "you can do better."

"anyone's better than gojo," utahime mutters, "you don't want to be stuck with him."

yuki's snickering, and you're doing your utter best to pretend that the mention of gojo satoru doesn't have you crawling up and down the walls like a termite on crack.

"speaking of gojo," yuki drawls, running a comb through a golden sheaf of thick hair, "is he going with anyone to this party?"

you freeze for half a second, before busying yourself with some new body mist that you picked up from a sale, all vanilla and coconut and macademia, "i ran into gojo the other day," and you keep your tone as neutral as possible, "and he said he had a few dates."

"ugh," shoko groans, wrinkling her nose, "of course he does," and utahime mutters an affirmative, exasperated sigh, echoed only by yuki, who pauses mid-brush to look at you sympathetically.

"what?" you snap, defensive, "why are you all looking at me like that?"

shoko tucks a thin strand of hair behind her ear, "well, i mean. you like gojo, right? like really like him?"

"huh?" the question catches you so off guard that you're left sputtering, as the perfume leaves a sharp and awful taste on your tongue, accidentally leaving a fresh spritz into your mouth, and not the curve of your neck.

"oh, blech. absolutely not," you say vehemently, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, "i don't like him like that. not that i think he's awful or anything —"

utahime crosses her arms, white sleeves brushing against each other, "he is awful."

"yes, thank you for that, utahime. but he's just not my type," you finish firmly, "he's loud. he's disruptive. he can't take anything seriously. i can't date that."

yuki gives you a long and knowing look, "oh, he likes you," she says lightly, as though she's telling you a casual piece of news, and not something that has you biting your tongue till iron spills, "he's been crushing on you for so long."

you feel your stomach twist uncomfortable, like little, evil goblins are dancing in your gut, "that's ridiculous," you mutter, fiddling with the clasp of your purse, "if he liked me, he would ask me out properly. and not date half the student population."

"he probably thinks it's fair, because you keep turning him down," shoko says matter-of-factly, standing up to grab her bag.

"i just don't think he's good for you. or anyone," utahime mutters, earning a pinch from you.

ACT V. stereo love

normally, gojo thrived at these parties. suguru was always able to pull a crowd that straddled the line between chic and cool, with just enough alcohol to keep things interesting. the thrum of the bass-heavy music should have been the perfect escape after a gruelling day spent staring at equations, leaving him half-convinced that his course coordinator was plotting against him and wanted him dead.

but now gojo satoru was just jittery, restless. and he hated that.

so for now, he leaned against the kitchen counter with a full cup in hand, watching people spill out of the living room and into the backyard. it seemed that other students had been aching for a party, something to take them off mid-terms and yet here he was, scowling like a storm cloud. he took another swig of his drink, ignoring how his own stomach was doing unexplained cartwheels.

"you good?"

suguru's low voice cuts through the noise, startling gojo enough that he has to tighten his fingers around his cup so sticky beer doesn't spill over pristine tiles.

gojo waves his closest friend and confidante off, "i'm fine. obviously."

suguru's frown deepens, though it's obscured by his loose, choppy dark hair. and there's skepticism painted all over his face, "you're never this quiet at any party. i thought that by now, i would have had to convince you not to jump off the roof."

"you think too little of me."

"you think too much of yourself," suguru drawls, but he's leaning against the counter beside gojo, as leather and cool metal rustle against each other, "so where's your date? or dates, i should say?"

gojo freezes, his cup halfway to his lip, "come again? what are you talkin' about?"

suguru arches a thin brow, "it's practically all over campus, man. apparently, you had several dates with lovely, young ladies lined up tonight. and i tried to defend your fragile honour, said it was too ambitious even for you. but..."

this revelation hits gojo like a punchline that he wasn't in on, and then it clicks for him. oh, he had started that rumour a few days ago. in the bookstore, to you. his brain replays the scene like a cruel, little highlight reel: the way your expression had wavered minutely, just for a moment, when he had straight up lied and claimed that he had a few dates.

truth be told, gojo had only said it to make you jealous, to see if he could ruffle you and play your game even better.

but now the joke was so clearly on him.

because gojo satoru had no dates. and you? you were here with someone who wasn't him.

suguru's following his gaze across the room, and gojo doesn't even bother to hide his petulant interest. he can see you standing near the back walls, laughing at something that naoya zenin, mayor of all things putrid, had said. naoya, with his stupid green roots and louis vuitton jacket, standing just a little bit too close to you for gojo's liking.

but before he can stew in it any linger, suguru's reaching out and pinching his ear. hard.

"ow! fuck was that for?" gojo's yelping, jerking away from his clearly evil, traitrous best friend.

"that," suguru says evenly, "was for looking like a lovesick idiot. pull yourself together, man."

"i'm not lovesick," gojo weakly protests, rubbing his bruised, throbbing ear and moving further away from suguru geto.

"you're not exactly screaming cool and collected," suguru dryly comments, "sulking like a sore loser while your crush laughs at another guy's jokes."

gojo feels his face heat up, just a little bit, because he knows that suguru's hitting close to home, "i don't sulk and do all that whiny shit. second of all, it's not my fault she went with zenin of all people. it's up to her if she wants to be stuck with someone who talks about his family's real estate portfolio as foreplay."

suguru snorts, and it's clear that he's not playing the role of sympathetic best man for life, "you know what's more obnoxious? watching you fuck around like this. you need to figure out how to ask her properly."

"i did all that!" gojo shoots back, throwing his arms up so his drink dances over the edge of the cup, "she said no. each time. you know what they call a guy who can't take a hint? she thinks i'm a loser!"

"and are you?"

gojo narrows his eyes, "am i what?"

"a loser."

"is it easier for me if i just say yes?" gojo half-heartedly gripes, "is that what you want me to say?"

"or," suguru says calmly, "you're a guy who hasn't proven he's worth saying yes to."

gojo groans, tipping his head back so he can block out the vision of his irritatingly wise best friend, "you sound like my grandmother."

"that's not even an insult. your grandmother is on some metal shit," suguru counters, unbothered, "and you sound like a twelve-year old. you can't flirt and sleaze your way through this. if you want her to take you seriously, i don't know how else to say this, you have to stop being...you."

"excuse me?"

"no. stop, don't make that face," suguru scowls, "you know what i mean. stop being a stupid flirt, and be a genuinely better person. otherwise, you're just spinning and burning out your wheels."

"did you pick up a self help book?"

suguru elbows him, sneering, "i'm trying to help you. if you don't want my help, i'm telling her you have an std."

"maybe you should just do that. end my misery," gojo downs the rest of his drink in one go, the burn of cheap beer doing nothing to ease the olympics in his alimentary canal. what's worse is that suguru is right, the bastard always is.

suguru claps him on the shoulder, "relax, satoru. you've got charm in spades. just use it...wisely."

"yeah, yeah. thanks, man," gojo mutters, brushing him off as suguru wanders away, probably to mediate some dumb argument between that big oaf, toji fushiguro and the even bigger oaf, ryomen sukuna. honestly, why were they even invited?

but gojo stays where he is, eyes flicking back to you. away from the distracting curve of your thighs in that skirt, and rather on how interested you look in naoya's stupid, animated gestures. and you look so at ease, but there's something hot and sharp twisting inside his gut.

suguru's soft, measured voice echoes in his head, "prove yourself as a person first."

oh, yeah. gojo could do that. he would absolutely do that. for you, he'd do just about anything, short of donating his vital organs (but he would definitely be considering it). but how hard could it be to be better? more mature? more grounded?

gojo satoru can handle all that. all he had to do was be a dignified, charming man. you know, someone who puts his best foot forward into the world. someone that you might actually consider taking seriously. someone calm and respectful.

if you were happy with naoya zenin, then who was he to interfere? who was he to ruin that for you? even if the guy looked like wile e. coyote when he smiled. even if naoya zenin was the most smug bastard to walk the earth.

gojo scowled at nothing in particular. but the point was that it wasn't his place to meddle. not if it meant risking your happiness. all he could do was be the best version of himself. polite, kind and above reproach. a good and respectful friend.

ACT VI. a shot of love, on the rocks.

"please, i want you so fuckin' bad."

gojo satoru is on his knees. at a party, in the middle of the living room. for you.

you feel like your mind isn't able to process all this fast enough, like your brain is on some pause. the music is still thumping in your head, but not as fast as your poor cardiac muscles as you're rendered frozen from pathetic, piercing blue eyes blinking up at you.

"please," gojo satoru repeats, and his voice vaguely warbles out like he's kinda lost his marbles and —

let's rewind.

five minutes ago, you had been standing with naoya zenin. and despite your initial reservations, you had been entertained. he's sorta witty, and definitely loaded with snarky remarks that cut through the noise of the party. it's hard not to laugh at his biting commentary, although half the time he's skewering people for fun, and the other half? just out of pure spite.

his golden eyes gleam with that edge, the kind of sharpness that makes you think of a hyena circling around its next meal. naoya is definitely full of himself, but it doesn't help that he's also ridiculously good-looking. and he knows how stunning he is, but its bothering him that you're not showering him in enough compliments for it.

still, he's here with you. he's your date. and you're doing your best to remind yourself of that. naoya is the only option you have at the moment, and he's definitely offering you more attention than anyone else tonight.

from across the room, utahime gives you an exaggerated, pained thumbs-up — while shoko shrugs in her usual blithe manner, but she gestures for you to smile more. you plaster on a wider grin, a little too obvious but naoya doesn't seem to notice.

"you know, if you're getting bored of all this, we could always find another room," naoya's low hiss slices right through the bass-thrum of the pulsing room, "do a little more than just talk."

for a moment, it's easy to imagine slipping away with him. but the sharpness in his killer-smile makes something in you bristle, like he's already envisioned you saying 'oh yes, naoya! please take me to bed!' and you shake your head, and give him an amused look.

"maybe later," you say lightly, "not now."

naoya zenin doesn't seem quite offended, but his smile grows wider as he stands up straight again, from where he had curved his tall frame into you, "i'm a patient man. fine by me, 'm gonna get some more drinks."

and you watch as his golden head of hair disappears into the crowd, leaving you all alone while the music blares around you, like a suffocating fog. you rub your temples, wondering if you should just go after naoya and tell him to go to town, something for the night's enjoyment. but before you can go any further, you hear a shout cut through the noise.

"hey!"

you whip around, blinking in surprise at gojo satoru.

but also not quite the gojo that you're used to. the one that you grew up with, and held hands with in kindergarten, one who smiled easy and laughed too loud. it seems he's ditched the oversized hoodies and varsity jackets tonight, opting for a black tee that fits him a little too well and dark cargo pants that only highlight...

you're getting distracted. but it's hard to remain focused, when he's walking towards with you. seemingly determined, as his white hair falls forward over thunderstorm-eyes. for a moment, you're not sure if you’re hearing him over the pounding music, or if it's just your own pulse making everything seem louder.

"i hate that you're here with naoya," gojo says suddenly, and his voice is low and serious, something that you've never really heard from him before.

your brow furrows, "what?"

"i lied about the dates," he continues, as words just jumble out his candy-pink mouth, "i don't have a bunch of dates. fuck, i don't even have one date. i only want to date you."

you blink, and then you blink once more, because again what?

the sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you think you might have misheard the man. his blue eyes are wide and earnest, and they're staring right at you.

and before you know, he's on his knees. muscular thighs bending so his knees hit the cool tiles with a heavy thud, hands splayed out for you.

"please," he implores, "you gotta understand. i need you to feel what i feel, because it's not even a passin' thought, i swear. it's not even a stupid crush. this is like —" and he's gesturing wildly with one hand, still kneeling like a knight about to beg for his lady's favour, "this is destiny."

"gojo," you manage, "are you on drugs?"

the white-haired man, bless his sassy heart, rolls his eyes, "no. i'm on beer and vodka. will you please let me finish?"

"yes, but what are you doing?" you hiss, exasperated and sibilant, as more eyes turn to the most ravishing man on campus, who's absolutely off his rocker. and there are phones being pulled out, god help you.

"what am i doing?" gojo smiles, and it's unnervingly wide, "i'm like laying it out all here for you. my love. because that's what you are, to me. like you're everything. and i swear everyone knows this already. should i call you my sun, my moon, my entire universe? it's like time stops when i see you, a-and trust me, i do physics. i know time shit," and he must have caught at how your mouth is flapping open because he suddenly wags a finger, "no! i'm not done. i haven't even told you how the world fades, and all that's left is you glowing. like a star that i can't reach."

he's placing a hand on his broad chest, digging into the tight top clinging to his pectorals, like he's being dramatically wounded, "i have to reach you. i have to be with you."

you're not sure what parts you've processed, or what part of this slow train-wreck has settled in your head, "are you, like, actually begging right now?"

gojo's eyes flash with the intensity of a thousand suns (well, fuck — gojo's awful poeticism is rubbing off on you already). you can hear the low snickers of two men that had been beating the living daylights out of each other half an hour ago, those fuckwits that go by toji and sukuna. you can hear sukuna's deep mutters about how no-one ever would like toji enough to do this for him. and yep, you can hear them scuffle again.

"yes!" gojo booms, and more than a few heads have turned now. you wonder if naoya zenin is watching in the background, and realising that this isn't a battle he wants to pick, "i will kneel for you. like i'd do this shit for eternity, even if my knees hurt so bad right now. but as long as you give me a chance to prove my worth. and my devotion, d-don't forget that! deep as the ocean, endless and vast. and the stars align...oh, how they align for us."

"ah, satoru," you cut in, and you realise that you're now smiling. embarrassment and mild humiliation be damned, there's a quirk tugging at your lips, "you can get up now. this is a bit dramatic."

gojo blinks, not missing a beat, "i'm dramatic because i'm in love, okay? and —" he swivels his head to the crowd, grumbling, "shut up, sukuna! i heard that, i'll beat your wonky ass. you don' know shit about love."

he's turning back to you, all sticky and soothing sugar once more, "where was i? eh, my confession. well, it's all for you. and it's me, givin' you every part of me. beggin' you to see that you're the only one who can break the walls around my heart."

you think that you've completed a full speed-run on every stage of grief that there is to experience, and if the small plink! coming from someone's phone is any indication, gojo's monologue has already made it's way onto someone's private story. and so naturally, everyone will have seen it by tomorrow.

"can you get off your knees? you look ridiculous."

gojo's grin falters for a split second before he straights up, all with a hefty groan as he runs a hand through snowy strands, "ridiculous? i'm being vulnerable as hell, and you think i look stupid?"

"a little," you admit, but you're reaching a hand out to push a strand of thick hair out of his eyes. and it's maddening at how gojo seems to tremble mildly under your touch, at the brush of your fingers against his temple, "kneeling at a frat party is crazy work."

gojo sinks his teeth into a plush lower lip, "that was me trying to show how much i care, and all that sweet shit. you make me lose all my cool, and this isn't even a joke."

"you never had cool, and now you've lost your dignity too," but you're blushing, and it's a giddy feeling at how he's now close enough that you can feel his body heat.

gojo satoru's eyes twinkle, "maybe. but i'd do all that again if it won you over."

"with your future oscar nomination?"

the man shrugs, broad muscles rippling, "he who be a fool for love is far better than he who doth never dare to try at all."

"fair point," you murmur, feeling dizzy in that familiar scent of lemon candies and mint, like the world is swirling around in a heady haze, "do you wanna kiss me to seal the deal?"

"yes please. i think i'm gonna pass out and — mmph!"

you've pulled yourself up, and thrown your arms around his warm neck, drawing gojo into you. crashing your lips into his before either of you can say anything else. it's an urgent, reckless kiss. like a dam has burst and all the pent-up emotions that you've been carrying have finally exploded.

gojo's lips are soft, but demanding, taking more and more air from you. they fit against you with an ease that feels almost too natural. and his broad arms come around your waist with a force that leaves the air punched out of you. he's holding you tightly, as though he's afraid that you'll just disappear if he doesn't keep you close enough.

you can feel the heat of his body against yours, the muscles in his arms that flex as he pulls you in, deepening the kiss. all while his mouth moves against yours with a slow and deliberate intensity, as his tongue parts your lips. all so messy.

when gojo finally pulls away, the last brush of his lips catches your quiet whimper. just as his breath goes ragged, and you're left standing there, dazed, with your forehead resting against his. you can still feel the warmth of his lips on yours, that electricity that's crackling and buzzing through your veins as you giggle.

gojo, however, doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath. he tugs your wrist with a sharp, swift motion. but his grip is firm, not harsh as you pulls you away from the living room, "c'mon. let's get outta here."

shoko's eyes are wide, her jaw practically locked in disbelief, "what the hell just happened?"

utahime's lips curl, "someone took gojo's brain out and replaced it with a clone. ah! geto, what did you do?"

suguru has been standing near the kitchen counter, absolutely floored, and he's shaking his head so hard that he feels a headache forming, "hand on my heart, ladies. i told him not to pull any stunts. swear on destiny's child that i didn't tell him to do all that."

ACT VII. i bet we'd have really good bed chem!

gojo satoru has absolutely lost his mind. but you wish that he had lost it a bit earlier, because you're practically pawing at his top now. critically working to make quick work of the tight fabric, letting your fingers run over hard planes of muscles and lower.

right until you're reaching a trail of soft white hairs that disappear into the band of his pants.

"seems like you're just as desparate as me, hah," gojo snickers, and his broad hand is trailing further up your thighs, letting your skirt bunch and crinkle under his ministrations. thick fingers brush over dewy cotton, and you moan.

"s-satoru!"

"you don't even know how long i've w-wanted this," and his hand clenches at the fabric, gripping it so tightly that you fear it may just be on the verge of tearing, but you can only buck your hips into him further.

no longer even mindful of how you must be already dripping onto the palm of his hand, "and i thought you knew. i r-really thought you knew how much i wanted you."

his middle finger is gliding through your damp and searing slit, with clinging strands latching onto his skin as you muffle a whine into his chasing, teasing lips.

it's sending deep, low curls of arousal in thick waves, settling low in your groin and you don't even care what room of the house you're now in, someone's bedroom with a dark, stylish bedspread and vinyls up on the walls.

the force of his large hands drives you down onto the bed, pressing your back onto the soft mattress.

and gojo looks so pleased, at how you're splayed and sprawled out underneath his torso, his hands tugging at your now bare thighs to spread your legs even further. pulling them far enough so they come to rest on either side of his face.

"fuck, she's so pretty. even better than i imagined," and gojo's voice is husky and low, almost strained, "and believe me. imagined her plenty." the sound of drenched cotton being torn rips through the air, slippery and resistant from your arousal.

it's even stubborn as the fabric refuses to budge, until it gives way under the force of gojo's tug, soft and tearing. leaving your pussy open to the cool, cold air. bare for gojo's eyes to rest upon and widen.

his lips brush against your thigh with an uncharacteristic gentleness, one that makes your entrance clench and wink.

but gojo is nothing if not teasing, and he feels light-headed. pressing featherlight kisses to the crevice of your thigh, and then closer to your aching mound. but even he cannot hold off for much longer, and he's pressing a flat, lazy print of his tongue against your cunt.

that first munch sends a burst of tangy sweetness dancing across gojo's tongue, and he thinks he might just bust a load right then and there. the heat of your clenching cunt is almost overwhelming, but hey.

gojo's never been a quitter, and he doesn't care if he creams his pants at this very moment, he needs to hear that sweet whimper of his name from your lips again.

his lips part, blowing a quick breath on your aching clit, right as his fingers begin to press and meld into your syrupy folds. it's got you practically jumping further into him, so wet strands are clinging to the very tip of his nose. and gojo knows that this is heaven. that he's unlocked true paradise.

"satoru, c-can't you...?"

he's too busy running his tongue over your clit, drawing small circles with the very tip of the hot muscle, "can't i what, pretty? don' want me eating you out?"

and you are so adorable, pushing your head up to scowl down at him with furrowed brows, but the flush in your cheeks paints you the most beautiful shade of cherry red. and gojo vows to spend the rest of his life ensuring that this shade never leaves your cheeks.

"can't you get to the eating part? thought that you were gonna — f-fuck! hnngh, 'toru!"

he's pulling your thighs tighter around his head, and he doesn't give a fuck if this is how he goes. suffocated in this tantalising heat, with your fingers lacing themselves into woven patterns in his white hair.

he's lowering his tongue once more into your throbbing pussy, making sure that his pleased vibrations send pleasurable rumbles right through your core.

grinning and slurring his tongue further into you, right as you buck desparate hips over and over. dragging yourself against his chin, so he's sure that the lower half of his face must be glistening with your sweetness.

gojo absolutely thinks he can get used to being like this, at having you angle and force his head further into your cunt. letting you angle and toy at him and use him for your pleasure. he snaps his teeth around glossy strands of arousal, once and then twice, before delving back in.

making sure that his spare hand finds your clit to draw quick flicks and shapes over it, pushing a finger right up against the throbbing hood.

"satoru, ah, satoru! 'toru!" it's all you can even manage right now, just chants and groans of his names, as he's practically sunken your hips into the mattress, while he's on his knees for the second time this night.

"hey, none of that, yeah?" and gojo's gently tugging at your arm. trying to get you to stop muffling your whimpers and cries, because he just needs to hear your adorable sounds. and he needs to hear your bird-like cries when you come undone.

what a joy it is for gojo. to be able to dive between your legs and run his tongue between your folds. he's losing his mind at how your body trembles under his touch, and how he makes the mistake of peering up at you. your lips are parted, open and glossy. and your brows are furrowed, as lashes flutter against your cheek. you have to cum, gojo satoru needs you to cum right now.

and so, he exerts all his effort ten fold into having you finish. it's so sloppy, and so messy. gojo lets his own eyes dip shut, letting himself feel your glossy, glistening cunt pulse around his tongue. and let there be no doubt that gojo satoru is a munch, for he's eating you out in such an ardent manner, and it basically sends you barrelling towards a heart-stopping orgasm, where tears spring to the corners of your eyes.

you needn't have even tried to warn him of your impending climax, for gojo knows in the way that your legs quiver and get sloppier over his face. stars fall over your vision as you heave and toss your head back, muscles rippling as "satoru, satoru!" falls from your lips, long and drawn out as the rest of the world goes dark around you.

you gasp, struggling to inhale as the syrupy air is stolen from your lungs, all while gojo runs his tongue through your folds, head spinning with the dizzying rush of sensation. it's as if you've been swept away, hurtling towards space, weightless and disorientated.

only to crash back into reality as gojo seemingly hasn't stopped letting himself taste all of you, with not a drop of arousal wasted. your back is further pressed into the soft mattress beneath you, and the surge of overstimulated numbness follows, all pleasurable pins and needles and ferocious need.

"look at that, 'm already addicted," gojo coos, almost to himself, scooping a finger through the translucent gloss that leaks from your cunt. bringing it up to his mouth to wrap his tongue around, "think you can handle giving me another one?"

you let out a weak, breathless laugh. your gaze lingering on gojo's face, the soft moonlight that casts an ethereal glow on his features. his chin still faintly gleams, coated in your mirror-sheen and his lips are a plump, rosy red. you part your lips, propping yourself onto your elbows, but before you can form the words, the door slams open with a force that makes your ears rattle.

"i've looked in every fuckin' room in this house, and i swear to everything holy, satoru. if you chose my bedroom, i'm gonna —"

geto suguru's voice cuts off mid-rant, his words dissolving into a strangled, pained gasp as he takes in the sight before him. gojo, kneeling between your legs, wearing a ridiculously pleased grin. just like the cat who got the cream. you let out a squeak, hastily tugging your skirt over you, but it's hard to look innocent when gojo is still unabashedly pawing at your thighs.

geto pales, his jaw going slack, and he looks like he's about to collapse, "god help me. satoru, i'll kill you tomorrow," and then he shoots you both a nasty look, "and you're both paying for new sheets."

"so you and gojo are...dating now?" choso pries, with a tone that is entirely too casual but his eyes are keen. your twin is nursing a cup of coffee while he absolutely demolishes a plate of fried eggs. he had been quiet so far, but it's clear that curiosity gave out and now he's peering at you like a big owl.

you try, or do your very best not to smile too hard. to not look giddy and ridiculously pleased, "yeah, i guess we are," you admit, keeping your voice as level as possible.

choso blinks once, before setting his fork down and shaking his head, "i knew it. it was only a matter of time," he mutters, and without further ado, he resumes shovelling eggs into his mouth, utterly unfazed.

before you can respond, sukuna appears in the doorway, leaning lazily against the frame, his tattooed arms crossed and his expression dripping with disdainful amusement, "oh, i was there," he drawls, sharp fangs flashing in a wicked grin, "that loser pulled the dumbest, most dramatic stunt of all time. got on his knees and everything."

choso freezes mid-chew, raising a thick brow as he glances at the older man with mild interest, "wish i'd seen that," he mumbles through a mouthful of toast.

to your utter astonishment, sukuna nods gravely, his face taking on an uncharacteristically serious look, "yeah. i've got a video if you wanna watch."

your jaw drops as you glance between them, "this is officially the first time that i've ever seen you two agree on anything," setting your mug down with a thud, "if i had known that dating gojo would bring about world peace, i would have done it ages ago and —"

yuuji bounds into the kitchen like an overeager puppy, his blush-pink hair still a mess from interrupted sleep. but he's clapping his hands together like he's just won the lottery, "finally! look at that! everyone's getting along for once."

sukuna doesn't even bother to hide his irritation, shooting yuuji a withering glare. but it's hard to take him seriously when his own pink hair rivals yuuji's in sheer disarray, "don't push it," sukuna warns darkly, grabbing a glass of orange juice and downing it in one morose gulp. he slams the empty, cold glass on the counter before stalking off towards the door, "i'm seriously gonna move out at this rate."

"promise?" choso quips, without missing a bit, "wish you'd stop getting our hopes up and actually do it."

yuuji is undeterred, and he elbows you with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, "you have to invite gojo over all the time now. i like him a lot. he's like super cool."

"of course," you grin, sliding a plate towards him as he eagerly digs in.

and your younger brother beams like the sun itself. right as a mocking, high-pitched voice floats from the other room, "and then we're all gonna be lovesick, and skip around town while holding hands!" right before falling back into sukuna's usual gruff tone that echoes through the kitchen, "god, you're all so insufferable."

your phone buzzes on the table, and you glance down. gojo's contact photo lights up the screen. it's a snapshot from a year or two ago, taken the summer that you both graduated high school. he's standing at the edge of the beach, with the sun dipping low enough behind to catch his white hair. turning it into a halo of glowing light. it's a photo that you never had the heart to change.

satoru 🪐

good morning princess!! my one and only!!!! my sugar plum (too much? i can tone it down but you just can't put a lid on love) hope you dreamed of me 🙂‍↔️ so what are you doing today because i've got abt eight possible things we can cover today starting with [read more.]

"ugh, gross."

sukuna's disdainful drawl cuts through behind you, as an icy finger prods at your phone, trying to scroll up and snoop through your messages. you freeze and slam your phone down on the table. whirling around to come face to face with the world's most judgemental gargoyle sneers at you, "i think i'm gonna throw up."

"get a life, holy fuck."

[carebearbussy]

ᥫ᭡ thinking about heian era! sukuna having a heavy breeding kink, seemingly out of nowhere.

you bring up a mere idea at dinner, the conversation quickly turning normal, to you bringing up an idea he had never given a second thought to.

"do you ever want kids with me, 'kuna?"

you would ask him, innocently enough, a sickeningly sweet tone hidden beneath your words. but you would already know the answer to this question. he would look up at you, then back down at his food, annoyance pondering his mind. eating a slab of salmon sashimi, he took a bite, chewing slow enough to hint at his potential answer. placing down his chopsticks, he would look back up at you, scoffing to himself at your foolish inquiry.

"those small, annoying humans that require too much attention for their own good? no thank you, i have better things to attend to."

he says, focusing on the meal before him. but his thoughts soon get the best of him. and now that he thinks about it, he will need an heir eventually. and not only that, but what would you be like? as a mother specifically. you would require more attention than most of the time. which was something he secretly enjoyed indulging in, despite his negative reasoning towards infants. how would you look?

you would be more swollen than usual, you stomach would grow larger by day, your breasts will most definitely become more full by the day. the bigger picture, which was you, enticed him in a way. something about seeing you round with his child really had his head going.

and so thats how you ended up here, you knees tightly locked against your stomach, as sukuna absolutely plows into your already stuffed cunt.

this was the seventh time? eighth time? at this point, you couldn't keep track. but he had came wayyyy too many times more than an average man should be able to. it was excruciating, really, the whimpers leaving your mouth, his hands bringing your knees closer to your chest with every move of his hips.

his seed was leaking out of you, glop by glop, dripping down your bottom even more, as he kept going harder and rougher. splashes of your juices paired with his cum stained the bed, the squelching of your pussy becoming deafening with every smack of his heavy balls against the rim of your ass. and the tight grip he had on your locks wasn't helping his case.

"hah, you're gonna give your king his offspring? yeah? r' you gonna be a good little mother f'me? make me an heir?"

he asks, your head barely able to focus on anything other than trying to stay sane. you felt sooo full, but this apparently wasn't enough for sukuna, or his heavy urges to breed your sloppy cunt. you nod eagerly, not wanting him to go any harder than he already has. but with the way he kept abusing your womb, it seemed like you were enjoying it, as sukuna relishes in your facial expression, your eyes rolling back, your mouth hung open wide enough to stuff two of his free fingers in.

"you'd be such a good mother, so obedient too. you wanted to rile me up, didn't you? i'll give you what you want, woman."

moaning into his fingers, you swirl your tongue around his digits, making him hum contently. you try to focus your vision onto his eyes, but the way he pushed his chest further into yours, had you practically cross eyed. hitting a new angle, you felt yourself completely let go, officially adding onto your list of orgasms you had previously had that night.

he released his fingers from your mouth, a coat of your saliva stringing upon release. he ceases to pull out of you, instead letting himself nuzzle nicely into your warmth, releasing yet again inside of you, earning a whine of complaint on your behalf. he playfully slaps your cheek with his wet hand, trailing it down to your pussy, playing in the ring of his semen around his cock. you squirm slightly, as you watch him then bring his cum coated fingers up to your mouth, pushing them back inside your mouth, making you taste his seed, some of his cum pooling around your lips.

"does that taste good? i bet it does, since you seem to love my seed so much. i cant wait to see you so full, besides from right now, of course."

[retiredteabag]

Wishful thinking

Arranged marriage with Nanami… next part

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Nanami Kento was not in a sorcerer clan. In fact, he was the only sorcerer in his family. You had met him only once before you had been informed of the engagement, and in that brief interaction you had decided you knew exactly what type of man he was.

"It's a pain." had been his harsh words. Vitriol clear as day in his tone.

When asked what he felt about being a sorcerer his response had been that it was…a pain? Being the reserved individual he was, he didn't take the time to elaborate despite the questions of the sorcerers surrounding him.

You had rolled your eyes in that moment. Clearly, he had no sense of responsibility. No duty. I suppose that's what it means to not be in a clan. You had thought. He’s got no idea how good he has it.

And even though you chalked his image up in your mind as an irresponsible and pretentious git. The memory of his brutal gaze stuck in your mind. You knew deep down that it was simply jealousy.

Sorcery was a pain, there had been many instances where you wished you could put it aside and leave this world, but that was simply not what you were born for.

All those months ago, you had left the meeting with the Jujutsu higher-ups resentful. How lucky that man in the suit was, to not have an obligation to fulfill exactly what the clan heads asked of him. How free he must feel.

But, oh, how wrong you had been.

--

You had known your marriage was impending, having had meetings with your father and his subordinates on several occasions to discuss the offers from other clans.

Offers for your hand.

Offers for the rest of your miserable life, for your body, for your fertility, offers to impregnate you, and nothing much else.

You had been picky, of course, having known all your life this was forthcoming you were expecting to not have to rely on Zenin blood to uphold the family name.

Your father was no kind man but if there was one thing he was, it was prideful. If even his measly daughter could brush aside an important clan born man, he too could wait for a finer offer to come.

Back then, you had no idea that would lead to this.

You stood before a full-length mirror. Your dress came below your ankle, the neckline nothing short of chic modesty.

By all accounts and by the people serving you, you were expected to be prepared.

Your wedding was nothing special, a formality, nothing more. Clans from across Japan were here to see the ceremony. Still, your heart pounded as you gulped at your reflection. A shakily deep breath brought you little comfort as you squeezed your hand into a fist.

You knew little of the man you were to marry.

Here was what you had:

He was NOT a Zenin. Hallelujah.

He was not from any clan. (This had come as a shock to you, your father having only explored offers from fellow clan heads, you had no idea how this arrangement was to be made until Gakuganji, the principal of your school, Kyoto Jujutsu High, and one of the more powerfully cruel higher-ups, had arrived at your families estate, enlisting a "fine candidate" for your immanent marriage. He had seemed certain. Immovable.)

And last of the information you had, he was seemingly strong enough for your father to deem his ability to produce "quality children" acceptable. He was a grade 1 sorcerer, nothing to scoff at.

You knew your father would not have accepted the offer of a man without heritage if the higher-up’s had not endorsed it. Even now you wondered why they were so keen on this matrimony.

And that was all you had.

"You look beautiful." A maid from the estate was arranging your hair, she moved quickly, with a soft hand. You hardly noticed her. "I've heard he is a very gentle man," She starts up again after your eyes narrowed in the reflection of the mirror, "if that's any consolation." The women ends in a whisper.

You huff out a breath, "Thank you."

That's what they all say.

You wonder if she was lying to you. This morning you had heard your mother crying in your bedroom after you had made up your sheets for the last time. It made you sad, knowing she was afraid for you.

Afraid you would turn out like her.

You swallow with some effort and look up to the maid at your side, she smiled at you.

"It looks lovely." You say, assuming she wanted praise.

She lays a hand on your shoulder and her smile crinkles in a funny way, "He is very handsome." Her eyebrows tilt in a telling fashion, she almost giggles.

Great.

What were you to say to that?

"I... see." You look at the floor and turn away from your reflection. All that was left was for your father to arrive. To take your hand in an uncomfortably tight grip and lead you down the aisle to the man that was decided to be the father of your children.

"Is there anything you would like, before I leave you? It won't be long now..." The maid tries to meet your gaze so you look up to her face once more.

"No, there's nothing, thank you for helping me." You try to smile at her but your throat hurts from the brief amount of talking you have already done.

The women nods her head, she turns to go but hesitates at the door, for a moment you think she is going to turn and speak to you, to say something as a comfort perhaps, but just as her body holts to grip the door, the hinges swing away and your father steps in.

"Move out of my way. Move! Out!” Your father shoves at the women who had been by the threshold and she escapes out the door with a hushed apology and not a glance at yourself.

You stand before him. Resolved to not shutter in these moments. Neither of you speak until he swings his arms and says,

"Well, are you coming?"

You almost want to laugh. How you wish you could look up at the domineering man and say, no I don't think I am, but you knew better, and although he extends no arm to you, you take the few steps to his presence and heave a sign.

"Stand up straight. Serve us well."

You knew those would be all the words you heard from him tonight, as unhappy as you were to be married to a strange man, you felt pleased to know you would no longer be living in your clans estate, just as you knew your father would be glad to be rid of you.

Your fathers movements seemed all too fast. His steps, his reaching for your arm, his pulling you out the door and into the hall.

You felt as if time was slowing but those around you weren't effected. Your father huffed angrily, tugging you along. This was happening too fast. You didn't want this. You weren't ready.

You wiped the sweat from your palms over the satin dress hanging on your waist. The collar that once seemed elegant was starting to choke you. The door to the ceremony was drawing closer, you could hear music but it was almost as if the closer you came, the foggier it sounded.

Echos of your mother’s cries this morning permeated your brain. You knew you were asking for too much. But in those last moments before your autonomy would be taken from you, you had only one wish.

That the maid was right. That the man at the alter would truly be a gentle creature...would be tender....would be mild?

The doors were swinging open. The light was bright, but you did not dare to raise a hand to block its assault. You walked slowly, arm tightly locked in your fathers grasp. You noticed the clan leaders in the audience, but as your eyes tried to take in the man at the front of the room, you stuttered in your steps.

Hoping your father would take no notice, you tried to recall how you knew the man who was meeting your eye.

You began to put together who this man was, having met him before, though you hadn't been introduced. That one interaction had showed you he would not have been a man you would want to live the rest of your days with. He had seemed unhappy in those moment.

Fear shot through you.

An unhappy husband was more dangerous than any curse you had faced.

Having stared long enough, you drop your gaze from his own piercing one. You almost want to smile, but you're unable to.

Maybe he isn't as free as you thought he was. Poor him.

You wonder how he even managed to get in this predicament as the music began to come to its end. You're stepping up onto the platform that your future husband stood upon, your ankle wobbles in the heels that were chosen for you.

In a flash you see his arm reach out for you but you’re only confused, shrinking back a bit father from him.

You look to meet his gaze once more. He's barely a few breaths from you. His eyes seem focused on your face.

The officiant is talking but you cannot hear him.

You realize one of two things in this particular moment, one, the maid was right about something, this man was remarkably handsome. And second, you realize you're feeling quite faint.

The dress had not been so hot before you were standing before this man in front of all these people under the shine of all these lights. You swallow, dig your nails into your palms, the officiant seems to be speaking to the man before you and it isn't long before your husband speaks out a low, "I do."

You feel as though you must pay attention, your bit is coming up now and you would hate to embarrass your family, but you can hardly hear the man over the pounding in your ears. A prick of sweat starts to form on the back of your neck.

There is a pause in the mans speech, he looks at you intently, after a moment he raises a brow.

Oh, right. "I do." You say.

You look anywhere but your husband. Knowing you weren't expected to kiss, you try to take in some more air. This was it.

The officiant hands something to the man before you.

He's so tall. The suit he is wearing seems to fit him perfectly, and you can’t help wondering who helped him here today if he had no clan members.

His arm is suddenly in front of you, palm up. It takes you but a moment to know what he is asking for. You brace yourself and set your hand within his own.

He places his other hand onto yours for a moment, engulfing your hand in his grasp. You are shaking, you know you are, but with everything going on in this very moment, you are hoping he won't notice.

A ring is being slipped onto your finger. Good, now your turn.

He hands you his own, a plain ring of gold.

Don't drop it. Do not drop it. Don't-

You miss his ring finger once before finally sliding it on. You hope no one noticed. You pull your hand free of his first and look to your father in the crowd.

This was it, right?

There was an echo of the efficient, "I now pronounce you husband and wife", and the group before you claps in respect.

The man who you had just married is bending down to your ear, but he doesn't say anything. You look him from your peripheral vision, and he is tilting his head down the aisle a bit.

Ah, yes. Your hand is in his own as you go back down where you just came. Your life is forever changed now.

So much lay before you, so much for you to worry about, but the one thing on your mind in this moment is how the grip of your husbands hand is infinitely more pleasant than the aggressive clasp your father had on you.

You hope against hope, that maybe, you would never feel the harsh grip of a man again.

But that was too wishful, was it not?