#him in the same corner as me and told me to look after him

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

I Love You, I've Sinned - Silvio

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

While I was busy doing official duties, a maid walking behind me suddenly called out.

Maid: "Um, there's a hickey on the back of your neck."

Emma: "What!?"

I hurriedly let my hair down to hide the hickey, but the embarrassment made my face flush.

(I told Silvio so many times!)

Just a few days ago, another maid pointed out a hickey to me, and I confronted Silvio about it.

------------Flashback-----------

Emma: "Prince Silvio, what’s the meaning of this?"

Silvio: "Huh? Why do you look so angry?"

Emma: "Who do you think is responsible for making me this angry!?"

Emma: "Didn't I mention last time not to leave hickeys where I can't hide them?"

Silvio: "Heh, you already noticed?"

Emma: "The maid told me. I was so embarrassed I felt like my face was on fire."

Emma: "Why do you always put them in such obvious places? You're so cruel."

(Just remembering it makes me want to faint.)

Even though I was seriously protesting, he laughed as if it were none of his business.

Silvio: "You're my woman. What's wrong with marking what's mine?"

Emma: "There's nothing wrong with it, but at least do it in places where I can hide it."

(I'm happy to hear him say that, but having other people point it out all the time is still embarrassing.)

Emma: "Anyway, seriously, please stop."

Silvio: ".........."

Emma: "W-What?"

Striding over to me, he grabbed my chin and tilted my head up.

He gazed at me with eyes that held a hint of amusement and smirked.

(I have a bad feeling about this.)

Silvio: "You don't like it when others point it out, right? In that case..."

With a confident gesture, he pointed to my neck.

Silvio: "Here."

Emma: "Here? Wait, what!?"

Without hesitation, he pressed his lips there and sucked hard.

Feeling a slight pain, I quickly pulled away and rushed to the mirror, where I saw a vivid red mark.

Emma: "Just because you gave me a warning doesn't make it okay!"

Silvio: "Like I care."

Emma: "You should care!"

As he tried to close the distance again, I turned to evade him, but he grabbed me from behind, nibbling on my nape this time.

Silvio: "How about here next?"

Emma: "Ah!"

Frustratingly, I couldn't deny that I was weak to his kisses, as my voice betrayed me.

Silvio: "You act so stubborn, but you sure make pleased sounds."

Emma: "You're the one who's being stubborn."

Silvio: "Huh? I can't hear you."

His teasing voice brushed against my ear, and he traced his tongue over the freshly made hickey.

Emma: "........."

Silvio: "If your embarrassment is stronger than the mark I've given you, maybe you don't fully realize that you're my woman."

Silvio: "In that case, I'll just have to keep marking you until you do. Next will be here."

Emma: "That's not the point, mmph!"

He firmly embraced my waist from behind, repeatedly sucking on my shoulders and neck while we stood.

The relentless rain of forceful kisses showed no sign of stopping, and he showed no remorse, let alone any hint of regret.

---------Flashback Ends--------

(Things are getting out of hand. I need to come up with a plan.)

(Now that this happens...)

Silvio: "Hey, Emma. Later..."

Emma: "........."

(Since he's not showing any remorse, I'll have to maintain a stern attitude and not let my anger show for a while.)

I remained resolute in my silence, but since he had repeated the same behavior yesterday and the day before, perhaps sensing my irritation, he furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed my arm as if to stop me.

Silvio: "Are you sulking?"

Emma: ".........."

Silvio: "Don't just stare at me."

(I bet he only thinks I'm just slightly upset.)

(I won't talk to him unless he gets the message.)

Emma: "Take this!"

Silvio: "Damn it, don't just suddenly hug me like that!"

Blushing and clearly flustered, he watched me flee hastily from the corner of his eye.

Silvio: "Don't make things any more difficult."

(Ugh, I didn't expect him to chase after me.)

Silvio: "Hey, if you have a complaint, say it to my face."

(I tried to tell him, but he didn't listen to me!)

In defiance, I turned my face away.

Emma: "If you're not going to listen to my requests, then I have the right not to listen to yours."

Silvio: "You finally decided to speak up, huh? And what's up with that attitude?"

Silvio: "You know what'll happen if you talk to me like that, right?"

(Until he understands my side, I won't yield to any kind of threat.)

Emma: "I don't know. I've said my piece, so if you'll excuse me."

Silvio: "Fine, suit yourself."

The next morning--

Emma: "What the hell is this!?"

I started getting ready but was shocked by my reflection in the mirror.

(There were hickeys on my neck, arms, collarbone, and in places I couldn't hide.)

Silvio: "I could hear you all the way from the hallway."

(When did he come into the room!?)

I was too shocked by the hickeys to notice.

Emma: "What’s the meaning of this?"

Silvio: "I did it while you were asleep."

Silvio: "They suit you better than any jewel."

Silvio: "You understand now, right? No matter how much you struggle, you're mine, so let me leave my mark as I please."

Emma: "Y-You tyrant!"

(I only wanted him to show some remorse, but my defiance seems to have fueled his fire even more.)

(I've completely lost this round. Ugh, this pisses me off!)

Emma: "I'm sorry. I apologize for ignoring you."

Silvio: "You're unusually obedient."

Emma: "I've realized that resisting is futile."

Silvio: "As long as you understand."

(Ugh!)

I suppressed the urge to charge at him.

Emma: "I appreciate you giving me hickeys, but I can't help feeling embarrassed when others point them out."

Emma: "And I also don't want to show the marks you leave on me to anyone else."

Silvio: "You felt that way?"

Silvio: "Then why didn't you say so from the beginning!?"

Emma: "Kyaah! Don't ruffle my hair like that!"

Silvio: "Shut up! It's your punishment for ignoring me."

(My cheeks must be as red as his by now.)

To dispel the awkward atmosphere, he cleared his throat softly.

Silvio: "Since you seem to understand what happens when you defy me, I'll forgive you this time."

Silvio: "But think about why I purposely leave marks in places you can't hide."

Silvio: "I don't like pests getting too close to my woman."

(I feel embarrassed, but his feelings make me happy.)

Suddenly, he pulled out a sea-colored scarf from his pocket and wrapped it around my neck, covering my hickeys.

Silvio: "You drive me crazy when you ignore me."

Silvio: "So from now on, I'll be a little more careful."

Emma: "Thank you."

(He always seems to understand my feelings.)

(Still, putting so many hickeys is going too far.)

As a small retaliation, I hugged him tightly and planted a kiss on his Adam's apple.

Silvio: "W-What the!? You!"

Ignoring his flustered reaction, I sucked on his skin and left a mark.

Silvio: "You always do this to me."

Emma: "I'd like to call it even, but there aren't enough yet, so brace yourself."

I made the declaration, and he burst into laughter.

Silvio: "You've got some nerve. I hope you don't regret it."

After leaving a kiss on the back of my hand and marking it, he lifted me in his arms and pushed me down onto the bed.

Silvio: "It's not me who needs to brace myself."

Silvio: "I'll leave plenty in places covered by clothes, too, so get ready."

Emma: "W-Wait! It's my turn to leave marks now!"

Evading my plea with a smirk, Silvio continued to leave marks all over my skin.

Repentance and retaliation both eventually turned into sweet moments as I bathed in the evidence of his love.

#ikemen prince #ikepri silvio #ikepri #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #cybird #silvio ricci

[rainbowhao]

we're just friends, right? ♡ beomgyu

genre: fluff/pining ⭒ word count: 0.8k ⭒ part 1

synopsis: the line between friends and lovers is blurred

it didn’t help that you were always clingy towards beomgyu. everyone was convinced you were dating and the more-than-friendly actions only made things worse. it’s just that you were a little touchy, that’s all. so what if you stared at each other longer than deemed normal? it’s not like you were in love with him or something.

only now, you weren't so sure.

“yeonjun said something about us again.” you only mentioned it to see his reaction. your fingers had resumed tracing his skin, the two of you lying there as if it was entirely normal to wake up in the same bed together.

gyu’s mouth quirked at this. “what’d you say?”

“to worry about his own love life.”

he chuckled. “still won’t let it go. even soobin’s been on me more than usual.”

“yeah?” you tried not to appear too interested. 

he hummed. “wouldn't it be funny if we actually started dating, though? imagine their reactions.” 

“yeah, funny.” you didn’t have it in you to laugh. as you examined the little bears on his pajamas, mouth downturned, beomgyu looked over at you hopefully.

catching a cold only furthered your confusion. your best friend had been quick to bundle you up and tuck you into his own bed (he’d insisted you stay at the dorm to make things easier). did whatever you needed—brought you soup, ran a warm bath—and even in your delirious state, his gentle hair stroking had your heart racing.

“that feel good, baby?” beomgyu asked softly. you were watching him through half-lidded eyes. he didn’t even seem to notice the nickname slip. a washcloth dabbed at your forehead, his fingers gently moving aside your damp hair.

[a/n: had to set my phone down after this one] 

then there was the fact that every time he offered to buy you a treat, he’d smear a little ice cream on your cheek. it was a harmless gesture—you’d glare at him, he’d hand you a napkin—only this time, he was a little bolder, loud laughter fading into seriousness.

“i'll get it,” he told you. 

you were entirely still as he wiped away the sticky substance with the pad of his thumb. he took his time, body close to yours and expression filled with nothing but adoration.

you were about to swat him away with how long he looked. “what?” you sighed.

“nothing,” gyu said quickly before licking his finger.

you narrowed your eyes. “why are you staring?” 

he ignored this. “i want a taste of yours.” his attention was now directed at the strawberry cone. but when you tried to hand it to him, he shook his head. “feed it to me.”

so you brought the ice cream to his lips; your hand was shaky as you did so. heat filled your chest as you glanced around nervously. there was no one else around to see the tender act—just the boy who stood patient with long fluttering eyelashes and a mouth parted.

“yum.” he swallowed, tongue licking away the remaining drops in the corner of his lips after finishing the (very large) bite he’d taken. you had to force yourself to look away. 

“actually, i lied.” beomgyu confessed a minute later.

you were finishing your cone. “huh?”

“i didn’t really want your ice cream. i mean—i wanted to taste something else.” he stumbled before eventually falling silent, eyes widening in realization. “shit, that came out wrong. hold on.”

the thing about beomgyu was that whenever he was embarrassed, he’d get the urge to bury his face in the crook of your neck—press his burning cheeks against your skin and squeeze his eyes shut. even now, in the middle of the park, was no exception. 

“gyu,” you laughed, hand automatically finding his back, “what are you doing?”

“hiding,” he grumbled. “i’m messing this up.”

you patted him lightly. “what do you mean? can’t you just tell me?”

his response was muffled.

“a little louder,” you urged.

“ah, seriously,” beomgyu huffed before pulling back. you could hear him loud and clear now. “i said i want to kiss you , not eat your dumb ice cream.”

somewhere along the way, the long-running joke about you and beomgyu secretly liking each other had become entirely real. suddenly, it didn’t feel so far out of reach—you and him dating.

“you,” you gulped, “you want to—”

“please don’t make me say it again,” he pleaded. with a defeated sigh, his head lulled forward til  his forehead gently knocked yours. “can’t keep pretending anymore.”

his skin was warm, white shirt billowing in the afternoon breeze. his hands gripped your waist like he was scared you would run away. your palm came up to press flat against his chest, eyes fluttering closed. you could feel his rapid heartbeat. 

“me either,” you said honestly.

“would love to see the looks on their faces.” he smirked. “maybe this will finally shut them up.”

beomgyu wasted no time taking your lips in his. his kisses were soft and needy, fingers pressing into your sides. neither of you could stop smiling, eventually pulling away just to giggle in each other’s arms because you were so happy.

“if you think i was clingy before,” you’re grinning now, “prepare to be absolutely smothered.”

#beomgyu #tomorrow x together #txt #choi beomgyu #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt yeonjun #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt fanfic #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x reader #txt fics #beomgyu fics #kpop imagines #txt drabbles #beomgyu drabbles

[dazed-and-confused23]

Wouldn't Be Nice

Summary: After his divorce, Cooper Howard finds himself in need of a babysitter. That's where you come in.

Pairings: Pre-War Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings: flirting and heavy petting. readers got a bit of a praise kink. Pretty domestic.

Masterlist

With the divorce came more responsibility, and that meant less free time with Janey and more searching for anyone who would hire him. He only had his daughter every other week, and while he did miss her - Coop always missed her - when Janey was with Barb it left him free to pursue other odd jobs that would keep food on the table. However, there were days that Cooper couldn't be there all the time, so after finding your ad in the paper, the ex-actor hired you to babysit Janey.

You didn't cost him an arm and a leg, and after the first couple of days, his daughter seemed to love having you around. That had won you enough brownie points from Cooper that he'd decided to keep you around. He had offered to pay you extra for keeping the apartment clean, Barb had taken the house, but you had shot him down, claiming that he paid you plenty.

Today, he'd come home, tired after working a children's birthday, and still dressed in his costume, to find you in the kitchen cleaning up after an early dinner. You greet him with a smile and a soft hello.

"Where's Janey?" He asks, keeping the same quiet tone. You nod at the bedrooms.

"Sleeping. She was tired after going to the park this evening. How was work?"

Cooper groans dramatically in response, and catching your soft grin is worth it. He kicks off his boots and strides into the kitchen, fetching himself a cold nuka-cola, "It was fine. The kids were great, but their parents always got somethin' to say."

Mr. Howard had told you a little about why his marriage had fallen out, but he intentionally kept most of it unsaid. You knew enough to know not to trust anything that Vault-Tec did, and you were fine with that. It wasn't any of your business what happened between them. Even if you were occasionally curious.

He watches you rinse the dishes out of the corner of his eye, taking in your soft curves and your messy bun. You're pretty and nice, and Janey loves you. He couldn't deny that he was attracted to you, and he'd caught the way you looked at him sometimes. It makes Cooper wonder if you'd want to stay here more often.

The ex-actor decides to throw caution to the wind and sets his cola down before he steps behind you, so close that he can feel the heat your radiate. He watches the line of your shoulders tense, and your movements slow to a crawl. Cooper drags his teeth across his bottom lip and then reaches out, his hands resting on your hips.

Cooper hears you swallow and catches your eye when you turn back to look at him, "Mr. Howard?"

"You do such a good job looking after Janey, Sugar," Cooper murmured, and inches forward, his chest brushing against your hair, "You won't let me pay you more, so how about somethin' else?"

One wet hand curls around his wrist, nails biting into his skin. Your voice is just above a whisper, "I don't think that's such a good idea, Mr. Howard."

Cooper drags his thumbs back and forth along your hips, the touch anything but innocent, "What have I said about calling me that?"

"It makes you feel old, and to call you Cooper," you rattle off, the words memorized by how often the ex-actor says them to you. Cooper nods, his chin grazing your hair.

"Good girl," Cooper praises, and his lips curl in a wicked smirk when he feels the way you shudder at the praise. His hands inch forward, fingertips brushing your inner thighs, and Coop wishes that you weren't wearing pants, "Come on, please? You do so much for us, baby. Let me give this to you."

His fingertips slip between the apex of your legs, dragging over your clothed sex, and Cooper sighs at just how hot you feel. You make a soft, startled sound, but you don't pull away from him. He presses himself along your back, molding himself to your curves as he hooks his chin over your shoulder to press delicate kisses to your throat.

Arousal pools in your lower stomach, and you can't help the way that you press into those devious touches to your core. You tilt your head back, exposing more of your throat, and feel the grin the ex-actor wears against your flesh.

The hand around his wrist releases him, and Cooper doesn't waste time sliding his palm under your shirt. He strokes your stomach, trailing his hand up and beneath your bra to tweak and pinch your nipple. Coop pushes you into the counter, using the leverage to grind against your ass.

Cooper’s fun is suddenly cut short by the sound of a door creaking open. Your head jerks up, wacking the ex-actor in the nose hard enough for him to grunt, and tears come to his eyes. He stumbled back just in time for Janey to come be-popping around the corner, a stuffed dog held tight in one hand.

You round the bar in the kitchen, smiling down at Janey while Cooper is making sure he doesn't have a bloody nose. He watches you crouch in front of his daughter, speaking softly enough that he doesn't catch whatever you say to her. Whatever it was makes Janey laugh and toddle back to her bedroom, a tired smile on her little face.

The two of you look at one another once she's gone, and then the two of you are giggling like children, red in the face after being interrupted by Cooper’s daughter. He meets you in the living room, hands resting on your hips as he faces you. You grin, reaching up to cradle his jaw.

"Is your nose okay?"

Cooper snickers and nods, "It's fine, baby. Come on, we should probably talk, hmm?"

#cooper howard #fallout #fallout prime #x reader #cooper howard x reader #pre war cooper howard #wouldn't be nice

[lulublack90]

Prompt 28 - Poorly Timed Confession

@wolfstarmicrofic May 28, word count 764

I wasn't planning on a part two of Prompt 24 - Interrupted Declaration of Love but here it is. I hope you all enjoy xx

When Sirius had caught sight of Remus out of the corner of his eye last week, he’d jumped out of his skin. He’d yelped at him. An actual yelp, like a dog! The cringe he’d felt after Remus had fled the room to get away from him was beyond anything he'd ever felt before. 

He was such a mess. He’d been watching a video on how to tell your best friend that you are in love with them, when Remus had come in. Gods he hoped Remus hadn’t seen the screen. He let his head drop into his hands and let out a moan. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Remus didn’t reappear until it was time for dinner. 

“What do you fancy?” Sirius asked, not daring to look at him.

“W-w-what?” Remus stuttered. Sirius’s eyes snapped up at his friend's odd behaviour. Remus was bright red. 

“For dinner. What do you want to eat?” He clarified. 

“Oh. Erm, whatever you want. You know me, I’ll eat anything.” He flashed Sirius a quick grin. Sirius opened his phone and the video he’d been watching earlier began to play, the sound coming from his phone speaker now that his earphones were safely in their box. 

“If you’re nervous, sometimes it can be easier to pick a time to do it and that way you can prepare yourself,” Sirius fumbled with his phone, nearly dropping it on the wooden floor. He managed to shut the video so it wouldn’t give him away. Although the video had a point. Maybe he should pick a time to tell Remus and then build himself up to do it. 

“Chinese? We can get a couple of mains to share and the mixed appetisers. Chicken satay and Beef Szechuan?”

“Sounds good,” Remus nodded. 

They sat on separate furniture while they ate. Remus in his armchair and Sirius on the sofa. Sirius could barely taste his food. He wanted so badly to tell Remus how he felt, but he was so afraid that he’d reject him and move out to live with Lily or one of his other friends. He didn’t even know what they were watching. 

“Are you done?” Remus asked.

“Huh?” Sirius had zoned out as he went over and over all the different ways Remus could reject him. “Oh, yeah, thanks.” He passed his half-eaten food over to Remus’s waiting hand. He heard Remus dump everything in the kitchen and call out goodnight before disappearing back into his room. Sirius repeatedly hit the back of his head into to soft sofa cushions behind him. “Why. Can’t. You. Just. Do. It?!” He said with each bash. Sighing resignedly, he went to bed, thoughts of Remus still dancing in his head. 

“Just do it, Sirius. Trust me, just do it.” James told him on FaceTime, while Sirius paced back and forth across his bedroom. He’d been forced to tidy the floor as he’d tripped over the same discarded t-shirt three times. Then he’d not been able to stop cleaning, so his bedroom was tidier than it had been in months. 

“But what if he says no and moves out?” He whined. 

“Then at least you’ll know,” James replied solemnly. 

Sirius walked hurriedly out of his room without even hanging up on James. It’s now or never, he told himself as he burst into Remus’s bedroom without knocking. He screwed his eyes shut and proclaimed. 

“Remus, I have feelings for you, I want to be with you. Will you please go out with me?!” Silence. 

“Er, sorry everyone, I’m gonna need a minute.” Sirius opened his eyes and saw Remus sitting at his computer desk while he conducted one of his online classes. Thirty students had just heard him confess his heart out to their Professor. Not good. 

Remus muted and turned his camera off before dragging Sirius from his room by his hand. 

“Remus, I’m so sorry, I—” Remus cut him off with a kiss. Sirius’s heart skipped a beat. “Remus, I-I-I,” He stuttered before Remus kissed him again, and again and again. 

He pulled away smiling. 

“Right I have to go and sort out those gossip mongers, thanks for that, by the way, but after we’re going to sit down and talk, okay?” Sirius slipped down the wall grinning like a goon. “Oh and the answer is yes, I will go out with you.” Remus’s grin was almost as bad as Sirius’s as he slipped back into his bedroom. 

“YES!!!” Sirius yelled and heard thirty people cheer over Remus’s computer and poor Professor Lupin trying in vain to quieten them all back down. 

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar fic #wolfstar au #wolfstar angst #wolfstar fluff #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius orion black #remus john lupin #james potter #lily evans #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #sirius and remus #remus and sirius #professor lupin #just do it sirius #poorly timed confession

[miley1442111]

(part 6) choices on the court- a.donaldson

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

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

a/n: this is kind of a bad and i hate it but i need to post it to make the next part make sense so sorry that it's awful the next part is actually good i promise :) i'm posting them together but like... it just makes sense in my head ok sorry :)

summary: the confrontation where you find out about a few things. (dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment and depression, hurt, cheating, sexual content, etc. +

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

Art felt like his world had been crashing down around him for months even though he was getting what he wanted. He had Tashi (despite their break-up that lasted a week), he was going pro, and he had all the deals and things he wanted. But he didn't have you. He felt like a lonely idiot, and he lost a lot of enjoyment for things. Tennis was a job, not a passion. Seeing you on the courts, watching you work was the highlight of his days, thank god he had the Nike deal.

But it nagged at him. You were fucking Patrick. You were fucking Patrick even though he'd know about his infidelity and not told you, just like Art hadn't. What was so special about Patrick?

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

You stood on the court, Art on the other side. 

“You’re fucking Patrick?” He tried to keep his tone even, but he knew he failed by the way you served the ball. 

“Why do you care? You got Tashi, you got what you wanted,” you hit the ball back and forth with so much strength Art narrowly hit it back. 

"I never said I have anything I want," He hit the ball back.

"So what do you want? Two girls at the same time?" you scoffed. "Just admit that you're contented with your life and move on, it's fine Art, I'm happy for you and Tashi just like you should be happy for me and Patrick."

"So you and Patrick are a 'thing' now?" Art missed the ball, then served it back to you with a ridiculous amount of force. The tension on the court was aplpable, certain words being punctuated by the slap of the ball against your rackets. You were both angry. Though, he had no right to be. He'd cheated on you. He's the asshole.

"Yeah, we are," you shrugged. "Just like you and Tashi are a thing."

“I don’t want Tashi! I never wanted Tashi!” He shouted back, dropping his racket and ultimately ending the game. “I wanted- I want you.”

“Then why did you fuck her?” you asked mockingly, laughing in his face. “Oh yeah, because you’re a fucking asshole who never cared about me!” 

“I care about you!” He shouted back. “I care about you enough to tell you that Patrick isn’t good for you!”

“And how would you know that? At least he doesn’t cheat on me!”

“It’s not like he’s completely innocent either,” he scoffed. “He watched. He watched me fuck Tashi.”

Your heart broke for a third time. How could you be so stupid.

“What?” you asked, lowering your voice. You noticed Patrick out of the corner of your eye and Tashi entering from the other entrance. “Is that true? You three all knew and none of you told me?!”

There was silence on the court. 

“Fucking answer me!” you screamed. 

“Yeah. No one told you,” Tashi answered. 

“Great. Y’know, keep me out of your weird fucking threesome bullshit from now on, please? It really shouldn’t be that fucking hard, considering you all seemingly hate each other. Just keep your heads out of your cocks, alright?” You shouted storming off the court. 

There was a silence over the court for a few moments. 

Then;

“Fuck you!” Art screamed. 

“Oh fuck me? Fuck you!” Patrick laughed. “You broke her heart, all I did was break her fucking hymen!”

“Fuck both of you! You’re both assholes!” Tashi shouted from the bleachers.

The boys looked at each other. “Fuck us?” they said in unison.

“You’re the one who pitted us against each other for your attention, then made our careers about you,” Patrick commented.

“ Tashi, you’ve been awful to her. You tried to sabotage her biggest match,” Art mentioned. 

“Fuck you,” they said in unison once again. 

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

Three months later…

“Hey,” You smiled, feeling giddy from the copious amounts of alcohol you’d consumed. 

“Hey,” Art smiled back, just as drunk as you. 

You’d gone back to your dorm. You’d kissed him. It felt good. 

“I’m so sorry-” he tried to apologise for well… everything. But all you wanted was to have sex and pass out.

“Shush!” You hushed him and giggled, pulling off your t-shirt and bra. Art’s eyes widened, then he smirked. His lips latched onto yours as you undressed yourselves and landed on his bed. You laid back as Art took his time kissing you. Your lips, your face, your neck, your chest, your stomach, all the way down to your core. 

“Art,” you moaned. “Please.” 

The haziness of the alcohol was getting to him and he was beginning to feel much too tired, but he’d be damned if he let another chance with you pass him by. “What do you want, baby?”

“You,” you moaned breathlessly. “You.”

A sense of pride blossomed in Art's chest. You wanted him. You were with him. Here, he wasn't second best to Patrick, nor was he controlled by Tashi. He was with you. His dream girl. "You have me, baby."

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

You’d felt so stupid when Art wasn’t there in the morning. Why did you trust him? Why did he do that? 

Why, why why?

You two didn’t talk again. Well, not until about eleven years later. 

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

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

#art challengers #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #art challenge #art donaldson #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #zendaya #tashi duncan

[queenhunter102]

Part 16

Part 15 part 17

Simon gently pushes you towards one of the beds, “Simon, don’t tell me you got into another fight”, came from Doc, who sat at the desk in the corner, his back turned.

“Not this time, Doc”, Simon said as he took a seat on the plastic thing that made him look twice the size he was. Looking at Simon, Doc glanced over his shoulder before his eyes lazily followed to the bed where you sat.

“I saw you a mere two weeks ago. Don’t tell me you got into it with someone,” Doc asked as he picked up a notepad and pen. Simon sighed and moved to sit on the edge of the small plastic chair.

“Remember I told you about Captain Wells and Jenson?” Simon said, watching you take a deep inhale of his shirt. Doc hummed as he walked over. “Vaguely,” he said, sitting on the same rollie stool you had been introduced to weeks ago.

Simon watched you jump when he growled, “He attacked them in the showers; he-” he snarled, which caused you to snarl back, the omega instinct reacting to him. Doc held his hands between you, Silencing Simon and soothing you simultaneously.

Doc turned his head to you. “Did he touch you?” he asked as he crossed his left leg over his right; you shook your head as you sniffed Simon’s shirt like it was a drug.

Doc nodded as he wrote on his notepad, “I assume you have gone and reported this,” Doc asked, his eyes flicking to Simon, who nodded. "Johnny is taking Jenson to Captian’s office right now.” He gritted out, still not liking that you were attacked under his watch.

Doc nodded as he pushed his way to his desk, picking up a report, a pen, and a clipboard before sliding back and handing it to Simon. “Write what happened,” he said, sighing. Doc turned to you. "Now you,” he tilted his head as he eyed you, marking down onto the chart, his eyes flicking between you and his charts.

Doc then sat the clipboard down to the side as he stretched his hand to you. “Let me see the damage,” he said, waiting patiently for you to give him your hand. You eyed him before hesitantly giving him your hand.

Doc hummed as he checked it over. “No scratches, no bites, and no cuts,” he said, bringing his other hand up to lightly touch your skin, pressing his eyes and scanning your face for a reaction. “No bruising currently,” he said, gently putting your hand down and picking his pen and clipboard back up, noting his observations.

“I take that is your Shirt?” Doc asked, his eyes turning to Simon, who nodded. Doc sighed, shaking your head. “I wish your Alphas would stop doing that,” he said as he moved closer to you, tilting his head again and eyeing the side of your head.

“Why?" came Simon’s rough reply. Doc rolled away before he answered, “They had just gone through something traumatic, sexual in nature, I imagine,” Doc said; Simon made a low grumbling sound, begrudgingly agreeing with him, “I still don’t get it, Doc,” Simon said sliding the report sheet onto the bed beside you.

“Omega’s tend to become attached to the first Alpha smell after a traumatic experience”, Doc said, as he picked up gloves and a small bag, sliding back, “You think I would hurt them” Simon barked, lunging for Doc.

Doc just slid away. “Luitenant Riley, is there any need to jump to such violence?” he said, sounding bored. Simon stood from his chair, growling as he moved behind you. Your head whipped to find Simon. “Calm down; he’s just struggling with his Alpha,” Doc said, calling your attention to him.

He slid back to you, picking up the report sheet, his eyes scanning it before picking up his clipboard. You watched his eyes flick between the report sheet and his clipboard. “Lieutenant Riley says that he and Sargent MacTavish found you on the floor,” Doc said.

You nodded as you pulled your legs closer, your omega instincts whispering to you, asking to bathe in the big mean alpha’s smell and bury yourself in his scent.

Doc sighed as he put the clipboard back down, rolled back to you, gave you a gentle smile, pulled a little torch from the pocket in his uniform, and clicked it on in your eyes. “Follow my finger,” he said as he lifted his hand and moved his finger from side to side.

“Good, it doesn’t seem like there is a concussion, but I would like for you and the rest of the 141 to remain grounded for a week or two,” Doc said as he clicked his little torch off before returning it to his pocket again. Simon growled, “We’ve been grounded for two weeks; we don’t need to be grounded for another two.” Doc only turned his head to Simon, lifting a brow.

“I frankly don’t care. You have an omega now, and the whole team needs to care for them,” Doc said. You huffed a little, your omega feeling like it could care for itself and not need to be cared for by a whole team of Alphas.

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#captain price x reader #ghost riley #captain price #cod mw22 #cod smut #johnny mactavish x reader #cod cod mw22 cod x reader o/b/a #cod story #john price #konig smut #cod #gaz x reader #price #Captian Price #Captain Price x Reader #Ghost #Ghost x reader #Simon Riley #Simon Riley x Reader #Soap #johnny mactavish #gaz #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #o/b/a #soap #ghost #simon riley x reader #Captain Price x reader #captain Price

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Chance » TJ Hammond

Pairings: Bi!TJ Hammond x Female Reader

Summary: You’ve had a crush on TJ since high school and you finally get your chance with him.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, alcohol, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, female receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Butterflies erupted in your stomach when you walked in the club. You seen the guy you’ve had a crush on since high school. TJ Hammond. He was on the other side of the room. Your hands rubbed over your dress, smoothing it out before you walked to the bar counter and ordered a drink. You caught TJ’s attention. He smirked to himself when he recognized you. He downed the rest of his drink before making his way to the bar counter, standing next to you.

“A beer for me and whatever my friend wants.” TJ says, looking at you.

Blush crept up on your cheeks. You could feel TJ’s eyes on you. TJ couldn’t help but look at your body from head to toe. He licked his lips, loving the way your dress was hugging your curves.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” He took a sip of his beer. “Where have you been?” He asks curiously.

“Oh umm…” You stuttered a little. “After graduation, I went to college and got my nursing degree. Then I traveled for a while. I just got back earlier this week.” You tell him.

“That’s nice. I always knew you’d do good things after high school.” He says.

You gave him a smile. TJ’s gaze drifted to your breasts, shamelessly staring at your cleavage.

“You want to hangout with me tonight?” He asks.

“Yes!” You said a little too fast, making yourself sound desperate.

TJ chuckles at your eagerness and ordered you two more drinks. He led you to a booth in the corner of the club. You took a seat next to him. TJ put his arm around your shoulders. Cue the butterflies again. You felt your panties dampen. You squeezed your thighs together for some kind of relief. TJ happened to look down at the same time. He licked and bit his bottom lip.

“You know…” TJ spoke up. “I’ve always found you intriguing.” He tells you.

“Y-You do?” You stuttered.

“Yep.” He says, popping the P.

He leaned in and placed his lips on yours, kissing you hungrily. The kiss turned heated quickly. It lasted a good couple minutes. When he pulled away from your lips, the two of you were breathless and both his and your eyes filled with lust.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks lowly.

“Yes!” You said a little too fast.

You two were making out as you guys bursted through the door of his apartment. TJ kicked the door shut with his foot. He led you to his bedroom and closed the door behind him. He kissed you again, walking you backwards towards his bed, the back of your knees hitting the edge of his bed. TJ’s hands found their way to your shoulders, pushing the straps of your dress off of them and pulled your dress off your body, letting it pool around your feet on the floor. You were left in your lace panties and your breasts were exposed to him. TJ pulled his lips away from yours to admire your breasts for a moment. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples.

“Oh TJ…” You moaned softly, your eyes fluttering shut and tilting your back.

He dipped his head down to kiss along the swells of your breasts. You gasped when his teeth bit down on your skin hard enough for hickeys. You held on to his shoulders to steady yourself. He kissed his way up to your lips.

“Lay down for me, baby.” TJ says in almost a whisper.

You did as you were told and patiently waited for him to make the next move. You bit your lip as you watched him strip from his clothes. He got on top of you, hovering over you. He leaned down, kissing along your neck and shoulders.

“Is this really happening?” You asked, surprised that you’re finally getting a chance with your crush.

“You better believe it cause it is.” He says against your skin.

“I just- I didn’t know I was your type and-” TJ interrupted you with a kiss.

“Well, if you shut the hell up, now’s your big chance.” He says with a smirk.

TJ kissed down your body, stopping at the waistband of your panties. He looked up at you, waiting for permission. You nodded your head and lifted your hips, giving him permission. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled them down your legs, dropping them on the floor next to his bed.

“Is all of this for me, baby?” He asks, rubbing his fingers in between your wet folds.

“Yes!” You moaned. “It’s all for you.” You tell him.

TJ’s tongue licked in between your folds, moaning at your taste. He wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you in place. His tongue circled your clit a few times before licking along your pussy. He did that for a couple minutes before latching his lips on your clit and began sucking on it. He ate you out like his life depends on it. He moaned against your pussy, sending vibrations through your pussy. One of your hands made its way to his head, your fingers tugging on his hair while your other hand clutched the sheets beneath you. One of his arms left your thigh, his fingers making their way to your pussy. He rubbed his middle and ring fingers in between your folds, getting them wet with your slick before sliding them inside of you. A moan fell from your lips. The pleasure you were receiving from his mouth and his fingers made you feel like you were on top of the world. He moved his fingers at a steady pace before speeding them up. Your jaw dropped, moans, curse words, and his name left your lips. It was like music to his ears. He didn’t want those pretty sounds you make for him to end so he sped up his movements with his fingers and began flicking his tongue against your clit. You’ve never felt this amount of pleasure before. TJ’s eyes flickered up at you, watching as pleasure took over your body. You looked down at him, making eye contact with him. He winked at you and went back to focusing on making you cum. His other arm left your thigh and snaked up your body, stopping at your breasts. His hand cupped one of your breasts and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned, arching your back in pleasure and pushed your breasts more into his hand.

Your cunt squeezed around his fingers. The more TJ’s tongue flicked against your clit and the faster his fingers moved in and out of you made your orgasm build up.

“I’m close!” You tell him.

TJ sped up his movements with his tongue and fingers to get your orgasm to come faster. Your lower stomach tightened. Your vision went blurry and your eyes fluttered shut. Your grasp on his hair tightened when your orgasm was coming closer to the edge. A loud moan of his name left your lips as you came hard. TJ licked up every last drop of your release before pulling his fingers out of your pussy and hovered over you, leaning down to kiss you sloppily. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his lips.

“You taste amazing, baby.” TJ says huskily.

You moaned when he grinded his hard cock against your pussy. You couldn’t help but look down at his cock. He’s bigger than you imagined. After a few seconds, you felt his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up so you were looking in his blue eyes that are now filled with lust.

“My eyes are up here, cutie.” He says.

You got a boost of confidence. You maintained eye contact with him while one of your hands wandered down to his hard cock. You wrapped your hand around it, slowly pumping it and using his precum as a lubricant. A soft moan left TJ’s lips. He looked down at your hand wrapped around his cock, watching as you lined his cock at your tight entrance. Both of you moaned in relief when his tip slid inside of you. TJ slide the rest of his cock inside of you, inch by inch till he was balls deep inside of you. He leaned down, kissing you hungrily while you took a moment to adjust to his size. You parted your lips just enough for his tongue to slide in your mouth, exploring every inch of your mouth.

“Fuck me.” You say, pulling away from the kiss.

TJ didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled almost all the way out, only leaving his tip inside of you and thrusted back inside of you in a fast thrusts and keeping his thrusts fast. He spread your legs wider and watched his cock thrust in and out of your pussy, covered with your slick.

“Fuck…” He moans at the sight.

He put your legs over his thighs and hovered over you, caging you in between him and the mattress. He leaned down and kissed you sloppily. You two moaned against each other’s lips. One of your hands found its way to his back, your nails digging in his skin while your other hand found its way to the back of his head, your fingers tugging on his hair. TJ moaned at the feeling of your nails digging in his skin and your fingers tugging at his hair.

“I’m never letting you go after this.” TJ was breathless as he pulled away from your lips. “You’re mine now.” He says.

You moaned at the thought of being his. You’ve always imagined being his, but you didn’t know that you were his type.

“You like that?” His voice was husky. “You like the thought of being my girl?” He asks, kissing just below your ear.

“Yes!” You gasped. “I want to be yours!” You moaned.

TJ smiled against your neck and marked you up with more hickeys. One of his hands wandered down to your leg and moved it up, placing it on his side. That created a new angle. His cock hit your sweet spot, making you moan loudly. TJ smirked to himself, loving the fact that he found your sweet spot.

“Right there!” You finally said in a moan.

“Did I find your little spot, cutie?” TJ asks, damn well knowing that he found it before you said it.

You moaned in response. His cock continued it hit your sweet spot. One of his hands found its way to your clit and began rubbing it. Your pussy squeezed around his cock at the feeling of his fingers rubbing your clit. His cock hitting your sweet spot and his fingers rubbing your clit made your orgasm build up. You could tell he was close too cause his thrusts got sloppy, but he regained his rhythm. He wanted to make you cum first before he came. Your lower stomach tightened. Your moans turned into small whimpers like you were trying to tell TJ you were about to cum.

“You gonna cum, baby?” TJ asks, panting.

“Mhmm.” You hummed through a whimper.

“Cum for me, baby girl.” He whispers in your ear.

His fingers applied more pressure on your clit as he continued to rub it. That sent you over the edge. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came harder than ever before. TJ gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm. A loud “fuck” left his lips as he came inside of you. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He pulled out of you and laid down next to you. The two of you stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavily.

“I’ve wanted that for so long.” You spoke up after a few minutes.

“Me too.” TJ says.

You turned towards him, your fingers trailing across the lines of his abs.

“Did you mean what you said?” You asked.

“Mean what?” He asks.

“That you want me to be your girl.” You repeated his words from earlier. “Cause I didn’t know I was your type and-” TJ interrupted your rambling with a kiss.

“I meant it.” He almost whispers. “The question is, will you accept it or not?” He asks.

You didn’t say anything. You kissed him in response. TJ smiled against your lips.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He kisses you once more. “Now that you’re my girl, we can go for a round two if you’re up for it.” He says, biting his bottom lip.

“You read my mind, pretty boy.” You say seductively with a grin.

A squeal left your lips when TJ pulled you on top of him. The rest of the night didn’t go to waste and you finally got the guy of your dreams.

🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶

-Bucky’s Doll

#tj hammond #political animals #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #tj hammond x female reader #tj hammond x reader #tj hammond x y/n #tj hammond x you #tj hammond smut #tj hammond one shot #tj hammond imagine

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 27 | Strangers Like Me

Chapter Twenty-Seven | Strangers Like Me

Parker was in awe of the place he saw. This place was so strange and yet he knew it was a house. An aroma that smelled sweet and familiar lingered in the air and only got stronger as the four of them approached the structure.

Parker’s mind was completely numb. No part of him felt real. He felt like a helium balloon, floating along and merely existing. Every sense was taking in information, but processing it was another story.

As they approached, Parker noticed two other small children who were smaller and younger than him outside of the structure. It sounded like the two of them were talking – well, one was talking, and the other was babbling simple phrases.

It wasn’t until they were a few feet away that they instinctively stopped and turned toward the approaching group. The oldest of the two’s eyes were wide and he quickly took the younger by the hand and guided her inside. There was some kind of commotion inside and, a few seconds later, two more adults, one man and one woman who looked a little older than the man they walked outside of the structure. Their expressions told Parker everything he needed to know about seeing him with the others.

They were apprehensive, completely uneasy, and shocked into silence at seeing him.

Parker’s step faltered and he stopped dead in his tracks. He never considered himself a shy person, but too much had happened all at once and was making him retreat into himself. His body trembled as he pulled the cloak given to him by the man further over his shoulders.

This made the man stop and glance over at Parker.

“You’re alright. It’s going to be okay, kid,” said the man. The same instinct Parker had experienced all his life that raised when he sensed his mom coming or when he fell from a great distance wasn’t giving him any red flags. Usually, the hair would raise on the back of his neck or something inside him would be screaming to run away.

That was not the case here.

In fact, there was something homey about what was happening.

It was familiar.

Parker swallowed, his throat feeling like sandpaper from getting sick earlier, and followed behind the man.

The woman ushered the other two teens into the home, giving Kit a harsh stare, before her features softened as she looked back to Parker. The man did the same thing as Finnick and Kit passed, saying something along the lines of, “We’ll talk about this later,” as Kit crossed the threshold.

The woman exhaled slowly as though to calm herself down before stepping forward toward Parker. The young teen noticed she had a prosthetic leg, which seemed unfathomable. How could she have a prosthetic leg and not be human? How did she get the supplies for it? It looked 3D printed after all.

“Parker, sweetie, come on inside. I’m sure you have some questions,” said the woman as she turned on her heel and vanished inside the house. The man with her followed shortly behind after giving the man who helped Parker a stern look.

Parker wasn’t sure why, but he got the impression that there was something uneasy and unspoken between the group and the stranger. Regardless, Parker drifted along through the door and into the home. He immediately noticed so many odds and ends that were hung from the walls.

The items ranged from ones he actually used to help build his own space to creative alternatives for everyday items. Things like thumbtacks in the walls for coats and bags and twist ties for hinges on the doors. There was a cork in the corner with a paperclip in the back which made the thing look like a stool or chair and this was just the hallway.

The number of things in the kitchen and living area alone that looked like they had been fashioned out of the most obscure items and turned out okay. One of the things Parker noticed was a bundle of blankets in the corner that looked like it had been made from yarn. There were trinkets hanging in the air and cut paper dolls and origami creations that looked to be made from old gum wrappers.

The idea of using trash to decorate was an odd one to Parker, but the actual execution looked rather enchanting and homey. This was just one of so many things all around that he recognized for their actual use but appreciated its reused purpose.

What on earth is happening? This place is fascinating. They reuse everyday items to make new things and use them for something else entirely. That matchbox is a cabinet and drawers. This other one is a sofa.

Parker absentmindedly stepped into the kitchen and suddenly found himself sitting at the kitchen table with a thimble full of something that smelled like tea in front of him. The man who was in the house was sitting at the head of a table made of cards while the woman continued to bustle about the kitchen, snagging more “cups” of tea for everyone else.

Finnick, the older teen, sat next to his father at a diagonal from Parker while the girl, Kit, leaned against the door facing with her arms crossed as tightly as a twisty pretzel. The other two were in the living area. It was clear the older one was meant to watch over the youngest but was failing miserably because every few seconds the youngest managed to charge into the kitchen in pursuit of her mother.

The other man stayed leaned up against the kitchen counter as the woman sat down across from Parker. With her lack of movement, everything finally fell still in the house.

The tension was tangible, but Parker had no idea how to even begin. What did he ask? Did he have the right to leave? Was he being kept here? Were all of these people delusional and calling themselves “Borrowers?” Or was that actually what they were?

Was that what he was?

“Well, Parker, I’m sure you have a lot of questions. You can take your time if you’d like. We’re happy to answer anything,” said the woman. “I… suppose introductions are in order. I’m Mira, and this is my husband Toulouse. Our eldest is Finnick and our daughter, whom I’ve been told you met last night, is Sprokit. Our other son is Reed and our youngest is Dove. We’ve been living here for many years and, well… hearing about your arrival certainly sparked some discussion.”

Parker looked at the man in the corner. He pulled the cloak further over his shoulders and swallowed again. The smell of the tea was appealing, but Parker’s insides felt like they could turn for the worst at any moment.

“And… him?”

The man glanced up at Parker, keeping his arms folded loosely, before sighing heftily.

“Kers. I moved here with you and your mom.”

Parker recited the names a few times in his mind, but he knew they wouldn’t stick. He felt like his mind was frozen in time back when he first entered the walls, and it would take nothing short of an ice chisel to get information through his brain at the moment.

“R-right…”

“Parker, do…”

“You… said you’ve known me for a while, but what does that mean?” Parker asked, interrupting Finnick as he began speaking. Parker wanted desperately for them to stay quiet and let him process the information in front of him, but that was a pipe dream at this point. It was obvious they wanted to help and wouldn’t relent until they thought he was satisfied with their answers.

They looked over at Kers, as did Parker, and waited for the answer.

“I said it before, I was hidden. I found your home a little over four years ago and decided to live there and make sure you were okay,” said Kers. He sounded exhausted, but truthful.

But it still didn’t make sense to Parker.

“W-what? What does that even mean? Okay? Okay from what?” Parker heard Kit scoff before she piped up from her spot in the doorway.

“Oh, please,” she said exasperatedly. “Okay from the human. He was making sure you were safe from the human.”

“Sprokit!” scolded Toulouse firmly, making Parker jump slightly. Kit rolled her eyes and rolled her lips together to form a thin line on her face. The father sighed and nodded. “She means the woman you call ‘mom’.”

The woman I call “mom?”

Those words echoed hollowly in Parker’s mind. It made him bristle that these people were calling his mom “the woman,” reducing everything she did for him all of his life to two simple words that didn’t do her justice.

It also felt like a punch in the gut. “The woman” he knew as his mom wasn’t actually that thing. A mom was a woman who gave birth to you. A mom wouldn’t lie to you. A mom helped and protected as well as provided for you. A mom loved you.

Parker felt his insides swirl again and he coughed a little as his body lurched. Thankfully, nothing came up, but it did make Parker feel sicker by the second.

“B…but…”

“Parker, it’s okay. I’m sorry. We’re just not used to talking to a Borrower who has been seen and talked to a human before. Old habits die hard,” apologized Mira as she leaned forward onto the table and smiled while catching Parker’s eye.

That word is what helped snap Parker out of his stupor.

Now feeling completely detached, the questions started coming in clearer for Parker. Though still numb and waiting for something to break through his frozen mind, Parker’s questions started manifesting, and he wasn’t about to let them slip away.

“That… word… Borrower… what is it?” asked Parker. Sympathetic glances flashed from every set of eyes to one another before turning back to Parker. Mira looked visibly shaken and upset, but she still mustered a smile for the young teen.

“Well, that’s what we are. We’re Borrowers. We borrow things that humans won’t miss in order to survive. Little things like sugar, bread, pins, cloth, ribbons, and anything else we might find useful,” Mira replied.

“We usually don’t see other Borrowers often, but we all live by a code in order to keep ourselves safe,” Finnick chimed in as he too leaned forward in his chair. “It’s rare for so many Borrowers to be living together under the same roof since it’s more likely a human will notice things going missing.”

“What about those two who come to visit?” interjected Reed as he began dragging the youngest, Dove, back to the living room. “They said they come from a massive group.”

“Rey and Hero probably live in that abandoned house down by the creek. I can’t imagine they live in a human’s house, especially with a big group. You saw their clothes. Definitely Outies,” dismissed Finnick.

“Outies?” echoed Parker. Toulouse nodded.

“Yes, Borrowers are usually ‘Innies’ or ‘Outies,’ meaning where they live; either inside a house or outside in the wilds,” replied the father of four.

Parker had to physically rest his head on the table to keep from vomiting again. The entire room as spinning faster and faster, making the teen see stars, and his action quieted them for a minute while he regained his bearings.

When he did, he dared to take a sip of the tea Mira gave him just to quench his parched throat. It was soothing and made him feel a little less sick. The sweetness definitely helped add to the taste too.

“So… y-you… you’re saying… there are just… massive groups? Or… rather… small clusters of groups of B… Bor-row…” Parker couldn’t get the word out, but his meaning was understood.

“Yes, that’s correct,” replied Toulouse.

“Th-then… why haven’t I heard of you? Why isn’t it on the internet? W-why… h-how does n-no one know about you?” asked Parker.

“About us you mean,” grumbled Kit. Mira snapped her fingers harshly at her daughter and gave her a warning stare before turning back to Parker. The palpable tension dissipated after a few moments in intense silence, followed by the eldest son clearing his throat.

“Because of the rules,” Finnick replied. Parker’s blank expression prompted further explanation. This threw Parker for a loop.

“Rule? There are… rules?” Parker asked aloud unintentionally.

“Yes, quite a few of them. There are three we Borrowers generally abide by in order to keep ourselves safe.” The way Toulouse explained reminded Parker of how his mom would explain things to him. It was slow and simple, broken into multiple parts to make it easier for him to process the information.

“The first rule is to never be seen by a human because it is dangerous for you and for all of Borrower kind. The second rule flows into the first which is you must move if you think you’ve been seen. It’s for your protection, even if you weren’t seen. The last rule is to never talk to humans. If they know we’re sentient, they’ll only try and get answers out of us.”

Parker listened to the father’s explanation and something in his mind flashed. It was quick, like a lightbulb memory, but he remembered hearing those rules once before, along with the reason why. Slowly, Parker said, “Because… they’ll treat you like a… pet….”

The inquisitive glances the family members gave one another told Parker he had said something correctly.

“That’s right,” said Reed as he popped back into the kitchen to retrieve Dove once again. “You’ll get thrown in a cage and they’ll throw away the key. You’ll never be seen or heard from again, and that’ll be the exposure of Borrower kind.” Parker twisted around in the chair and glanced at the younger kid as he flashed a smile and, snagging his little sister under the armpits, hoisted her up and waddled back to the living room.

Parker’s vision blackened around the edges, and he once again needed to rest his head on the table. A cold sweat covered his body. Regret filled him as he realized he was probably soaking Kers’ cloak through with his perspiration. The family of Borrowers waited patiently for Parker’s recovery as they awaited his next question.

But his mind was running wild.

Everything and nothing made sense.

This had to be a dream, right?

Parker pinched himself under the table hard along the outside of his thigh, but the trick didn’t work, and he was met with five pairs of eyes staring at him expectantly. One thought was something he clung to, however, and he hoped in this moment to possibly disprove everything they just said.

“But… my mom… she said it was a genetic condition. She said I have Parvi Homunculi Syndrome. It’s just a rare condition. Are… you sure you don’t just have that?” Mira must’ve heard the desperation in Parker’s voice because her features filled once again sympathetically.

“I… I know how weird it must sound,” said Mira. She brushed her hair to the side and sighed before clasping her hands together and resting them on the table. “But we’re Borrowers. We’re different than humans for a number of different reasons, despite how similar we might look.”

“Differences?” Parker barely uttered the word, fearing the sip of tea he just had was going to churn his insides and reappear.

“Yeah, differences. We have instincts that humans don’t have. Our vision is better in the dark. We have great balance and land on our feet; well, most of the time,” Finnick stated.

“Tell us, Parker, have you ever experiences anything like that? Sensing something before it happened? Feeling the tremors in the ground as a human walks around when they’re rooms away? Finding curious places to hide? Or feeling the need to hide when you sense something coming?” asked Toulouse. “Haven’t you ever fallen from up high and landed safely on the ground? The instinct or need to reuse or create? What about walking around here in the walls? Didn’t you notice how well you could see in such low light?”

His scenarios made Parker’s blood run cold.

Every single one of those things he mentioned was something Parker had experienced. He had always attributed those things to his condition.

So… my condition… it’s a lie?

Well… not a lie…

I do have a condition….

I’m a Borrower.

Everything they’re saying makes sense. How would they know about everything if they hadn’t experienced it themselves? They don’t know about my climbing and falling habits. They don’t know about the things I’ve invented. They couldn’t have known about my senses unless they had it too.

Mira’s face softened and she quickly pushed herself to her feet and retrieved a single square of toilet paper, tearing off a side and gently pushing it over toward Parker. It was only now he realized warm, salty tears were soaking his face. The tears glided down his cheeks and puddled at his chin before dripping onto his shirt.

His entire body shook like a leaf in a windstorm as he numbly snagged the piece of toilet paper and hid his face away. Breathing was a chore, and the few breaths he sucked in wracked his body with sobs.

Over and over, he asked himself why?

Why him?

Why was this happening?

How many Borrowers were out there? Surely there had to be some reference to them specifically out there in the world.

How could an entire race of people just be completely unnoticed like this family?

The thoughts that followed only made Parker’s sobs double him over.

How long had his mom known about him and not said anything?

Why was he just finding all of this out now?

Why had his mom lied to him?

Didn’t she love him?

Why didn’t she just tell him the truth?

Parker wasn’t sure how long he stayed hunched over smashing the now soggy piece of toilet paper to his face, but he did suddenly notice a pressure on his hand that wasn’t there before. Not like he cared. Everything was spiraling out of control and off of the edge of a cliff. What was one more thing?

Eyes red and dry despite the moist tears, Parker blinked away the blur and finally realized the pressure on his hand was Mira. She had reached forward and gently clasped his hand in her own. Parker felt the urge to resist but couldn’t tear himself away from the comfort the pressure of her hand gave. Her motherly instincts were right.

All Parker wanted right now was a hug… but from whom?

His mom?

Someone his own size?

Even now, the thought of someone being able to wrap their arms around him and him being able to do the same was unfathomable.

As his breathing calmed, Parker felt a new emotion boiling in his belly, and it quickly consumed him.

Anger.

Frustrated anger and distrust filled him like magma filling a volcano. He felt ready to burst at any moment, but he wasn’t about to leave now.

He needed to know more about these strangers like him. He needed to know more. His desire for knowledge fueled by the fact he had been deceived for his entire life hardened his features and cleared the darkness away from the corners of his eyes.

“Parker, I know this is a lot for you all at once,” said Mira, noticing the teen’s change in demeanor. “But…”

“Please…” said Parker, his voice cracking. The teenager was barely able to keep from falling apart as he sat there on that cork bottle chair. “Just… tell me what you can… about Borrowers? About what happens when… Borrowers are seen? What happens? And…. About me… and my….” Parker’s voice trailed off as he suddenly had trouble saying the word “mom.”

Toulouse sighed and leaned heavily onto the table and said, “Parker, are you sure?”

Parker nodded and squeezed Mira’s hand.

“Yes,” he said definitively. “Please.”

It took a few hours, but Toulouse and his family began telling Parker what he needed to know. They told him about how Borrowers had managed to keep themselves secret because of the rules and how they’ve had narrow misses in the past. They talked about how they went about creating their home and the balance Borrowers needed to live in secret with their human counterparts.

What really made Parker’s blood boil was the stories about what happened to Borrowers in the stories where the were caught.

Some were thrown in cages until they were rescued. Others managed to trick their ways out of their containment and away from their human captors. The one that hurt Parker the most was the ones that were treated as evolved pets.

Evolved pets had little homes they lived in with electricity and water. Repurposed doll houses were usually the container used rather than a cage with traditional bars – just like what Parker lived in.

Borrowers experienced isolation and every little thing was always taken care of. No need to borrow because food was always on the table. No need to climb because you’re carried everywhere. No need to go outside because entertainment is brought to you. The purpose of a Borrower was to go out and survive, not be taken care of at the whim of a human.

It was the exact existence Parker had been living.

It made his insides churn to think that his mom had been treating him like a pet for practically all of his life.

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” said Kers, chiming in after hours of silence. He had remained practically emotionless and silent for most of the time while Toulouse and his family helped “educate” Parker in the ways of a Borrower. The family opened their mouths to object, but Kers beat them to it. “Parker has been gone for a while, and I’m sure his mom is worried sick about him being missing. She’s bound to have noticed by now. You don’t want her looking for him, do you?”

The question shut down any arguments the family might’ve had. Despite Parker’s reservations in returning, he sighed and pushed himself to his feet.

“Um… thank you… really. I…” Parker stammered over his words as he thought about everything he just learned.

“You don’t need to thank us, Parker. Just, keep yourself safe,” said Mira.

“And, if you don’t mind, keep your knowledge about this place and my family close to your chest. I apologize again on behalf of my daughter. We should’ve made it clearer that she wasn’t supposed to act rashly when it came to your… situation,” said Toulouse.

“Thanks. I… can probably do that,” said Parker. His head swirled dangerously fast with his first step, but thankfully Kers was by his side and guided Parker safely toward the door. The older Borrower watched the younger cautiously while Parker paid him no mind.

Parker’s mind was far from him. There were too many other things going on to be concerned about revealing the family’s home. With a final farewell, Parker and Kers left the house and headed back down the route they came.

The two Borrowers were completely silent for the majority of the trek, leaving Parker to fester and dwell in his own thoughts.

It wasn’t until they were by the wall at a familiar stretch that Kers physically stopped moving forward and turned to face Parker. There was something in his expression that was sorrowful and uneasy, but also determined. It reminded Parker of the look Toulouse gave him a few times.

Fatherly.

It was a new look and took the teen by surprise.

“Parker, I know this is not how any of us wanted things to go,” said Kers. “But I want you to know that I’m sorry. It was never my intention to help keep this truth from you. I… had actually planned on talking to your mom today to figure out how to talk to you.”

Parker wasn’t sure if he was buying it, but Kers continued.

“I know you’re going through a lot, and I know I have no right to ask this of you, but listen to me and don’t do anything rash,” said Kers.

Parker bristled at the words.

“Rash? You don’t want me to be rash?! You knew. You watched for years and let me believe…” Parker took a breath as his fury reared its head again. “You let me believe I was human. You and that woman both.”

Kers stiffened as he heard that word. The last thing he wanted to do was make an enemy out of Parker, but Kers needed to make a few things clear to Parker. Attempting to diffuse the situation, he kept his voice calm and low.

“Parker, that woman is still your mom. She loves you and only wants the best for you. Believe me. I’ve seen it every day for years. I don’t think she would intentionally hurt you. I don’t know why she didn’t say anything, but it can’t have been easy when your differences are so obvious,” said Kers firmly.

Parker jerked his head away as he looked down at the corner of a nearby beam.

“She lied.”

“I know, and that’s not the best look. Still, Parker, trust me on this. She loves you. Regardless of everything else, she loves you,” emphasized Kers.

“She treated me like a pet. How… can I trust someone who would lie to me so easily for so long?” The words spilled out of Parker like water leaking from a sponge. He felt like he couldn’t absorb another thing and his words were now just spilling out.

“No, she didn’t. She treated you like her son. Coming from a family who used to have pets, I can see where taking care of a kid and taking care of a pet are almost the same thing,” pointed out Kers.

“But…”

“Listen, Parker. Don’t do anything rash. Think about everything you’ve just learned and don’t act emotionally. That’ll only hurt more,” advised Kers. “Sit and think about everything. I’ll be back later tonight to check on you if you’d like.”

Parker nodded numbly, but the adult’s words simply added to the puddle that was his thoughts. Kers finished walking Parker to his room and, with a reassuring pat on his shoulder, left the teen to go back to the world he knew.

As Parker jumped back through the electrical cover and climbed the stairs to his little house, he suddenly realized he was still wearing Kers’ cloak. The heavy fabric had been draped over his shoulders the entire walk back, and Kers must’ve thought Parker needed it more.

It felt like a hug from behind, and the warmth of the fabric kept Parker’s shaking at bay.

The teen made it back into his room and into his space with every intention of resting in his bed until dinner. The words he wanted to say were locked somewhere in his brain. He just needed time to muddle through.

It was what he saw in his kitchen as he entered the little house that instantly changed his mind.

Parker noticed a massive plate with cut apples just sitting there. Before, this would have been an enjoyable treat. Now, however, all Parker saw was those videos on his social media where some tasty treat was delivered on a platter to none other than the family pet.

Something about seeing that plate snapped something in his mind.

You’re just a pet to her.

It was a bold, hateful thought that spawned out of nowhere in his mind, fueled only by recent events.

Despite Kers’ warning, he wanted to know the answers.

He wanted to know why his mom hadn’t told him anything and everything she knew about him.

Another, greater part of him hoped that everything he just heard was a lie. He wanted it to be untrue. He wanted Kers and Toulouse and Mira and Finnick and Reed and Kit all to be lying to his face to abduct him into the walls.

Parker spun on his heel and marched back down the stairs and dared to climb the steps all the way down to the kitchen where he heard his mom… that woman… working away. Trembling in his shoes, Parker finally made it to ground level and came around the corner. The urge to vomit as he saw her filled him, which contrasted greatly with the expression on her face as she saw him.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Amanda had been pacing the floor for what felt like hours. She had practically torn the house upside down trying to find her son, Parker. After their little disagreement this morning and the fear eating her alive, she couldn’t find him.

His room?

Not there.

Living area?

Not there.

Bathroom?

Nowhere to be seen.

Kitchen?

Nope.

She had cut up some apples in the hopes of luring him out and to make sure he had a little something to eat if he was still upset with her, but to no avail.

She hoped that he hadn’t done something foolish or decided to go into the walls and got hurt. It was an idea she should have supported, but was afraid to.

It was clear now more than ever that she needed to talk to Parker about everything, and now she finally had the words to do so. The moment she found him, she would tell him everything. It was long overdue, but it was time.

If only she could find him!

Now, after she was about to start calling and shouting, there he was.

Parker came out from around the corner and relief immediately flooded over her. She rushed over and knelt, which made Parker flinch and shy away. Struck by the odd interaction, Amanda glanced over him and immediately noticed his appearance.

Parker looked drained. He had obviously been crying and looked ill. What really caught her off guard was what he had draped over his shoulders. It looked like some kind of cloak, but it was way too big for him. Brown, frayed, and torn, this thing obviously didn’t come from anything either of them had made.

There was time to ask questions later.

Right now, she was relieved beyond words that Parker was here.

“Parker! I’m so glad you’re here. I was worried sick. Where were you? Are you okay? Sweetie, I’m so sorry about earlier. I don’t know what came over me. I should’ve…”

“You should’ve what?” interrupted Parker, something that wasn’t like him. Amanda, caught off guard, felt her heart clench as she met her son’s eyes. There was something in them that she registered immediately.

Hurt.

Pain.

Anger.

Frustration.

Desperation.

Before she could say anything, Parker continued.

“How long?”

Those two words shook Amanda to her bones.

No. What?

“H-how long? How long what?”

“How long have you known I’m not your son?”

The words hung in the air. Like a dense fog, Amanda suddenly felt lost. Tendrils of tension clutched her chest.

No… I’ve run out of time. I’m too late.

Amanda’s throat clenched. She knew this conversation was going to happen, but not like this. She looked into Parker’s soft brown eyes and saw he was clinging onto the last threads of hope. It was part of that desperation she saw earlier.

And she had no lifeline to give him.

“Well?!” Parker’s voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes. He looked to be on the verge of collapse.

Amanda bit back her own emotions as they constricted her throat. A bottomless void opened in Amanda’s heart.

“Parker… you are my son. I’ve always been your mom,” said Amanda. Parker couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was she serious? Or was she lying. The tether he thought he was receiving was just within grasp. Maybe this was all just a bad dream.

Her next words shattered him.

“But I’m not your only mom. Someone… some beautiful, wonderful person gave birth to you.” Amanda’s cheeks were etched with tears at this point. With the last bit of her strength, she choked out, “I love you, Parker, as if you came from me… but you’re right. You are not mine.”

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue | Coming Soon

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Beginning

#borrower #g/t #g/t community #borrowers #giant/tiny #giant tiny #handheld #tiny #giant #gianttiny #angst #angst angst angst #gt angst #g/t angst #g/t author #g/t scenario #g/t story #g/t sfw #g/t stuff #the borrowers #gt writing #gt community #sfw gt #sfw g/t #g/t writing #Parker #My Borrowed Son #g/t idea #g/t interaction #giant/tiny community

[narcissosbythepool]

@pricegazweek Day 2 - Shotgun

Tags: smoking, shotgunning, discussion of illness and death, pre-relationship (or the liminal space between that and romance)

//

“I don’t think our target is going to show up today.”

Gaz, looking out to the empty street from the window, lowers his binoculars. “No, I don’t think so either,” he admits and sits down on the floor where Price already is located, hiding under the window’s ledge, gun propped up against the wall.

“Tomorrow?” he asks and Price shrugs.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe better to keep watch either way, but I have a hunch.” He sniffles. “And it rarely leads me astray.”

“Ah yeah, the famous hunch,” Gaz rolls his eyes and gets an amused look. Price returns to patting his pocket. His eyes light up as he finds what he wants, a cigar and a lighter, and he lights it with an air of gratitude that only a good nicotine hit can sate. Gaz is suddenly grateful he closed the windows – such an obvious tell would be the most embarrassing to be found out.

They’ve been on the look out for two days now and their target is nowhere in sight. Price assured him this is nothing abnormal – him and MacMillan waited for Zakhaev for three days back in Pripyat, apparently, and Gaz hopes they won’t break that record this time.

Gaz sets his weapon on his lap, muzzle facing away from Price, and starts disassembling it as Price smokes. The smoke puffs in the air like from a great dragon, and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“You know,” Gaz says, “there is no safe exposure to secondhand smoke.”

“Yeah?” Price replies, blowing smoke in his direction. Gaz waves it away, holding back a laugh.

“My sister ranted about it to my brother once,” he explains. “Last leave. Told him to stay away from his smoker friends, when they’re out.”

“I’m sure that went over well.”

“I’m sure it did,” Gaz sighs. “Didn’t have the heart to tell her that my boss smokes constantly.”

“Like a chimney,” Price grunts and Gaz can’t fight back the grin anymore.

“I didn’t say it,” he simply quips back and knows that if they were any closer, Price would elbow him for his insolent behavior, like a proper commanding officer.

“Could be worse,” Price says then, inspecting his cigar. “A nasty habit, this one. Started years ago and was never able to stop. So don’t ever start.”

“As if the exposure won’t do it,” Gaz chuckles.

“Well, there are worse ways to go.”

“What, worse than lung cancer?”

“That’ll be my problem, won’t it,” Price drawls and were his Captain any other person, he would have winked.

“Not exactly,” Gaz says, taking out a rag to clean the parts of his gun, hands working as they speak. “It’s even more dangerous to the bystander.”

“Really, now?”

“Heightened risk, same result.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Inflammatory and respiratory effects appear within 60 minutes,” Gaz rattles on, and then turns to look at Price. “Can last up to three hours.”

“Hm.”

“Isn’t it interesting?” Gaz asks, putting the parts of his gun aside. “That it lingers like that?”

“Not just on your clothes,” Price’s eyes rake over his form and it makes him shiver.

“But inside you too,” Gaz confirms. Price blinks slowly and takes another inhale of his cigar.

“That is interesting, Sergeant,” he says, blowing the smoke away this time.

He’s not a stupid man.

Gaz doesn’t know what this reaction means – perhaps it excites him? Knowing he never leaves Gaz’s system, even when they’re apart. That he lingers in Gaz’s work clothes, his fatigues too… He mourns a little when he puts the clothes into the wash, willing the scent to stay – but it always fades away after a wash, unlike the smoke in Gaz’s lungs. It creeps into every part of him – from his lungs to his blood stream, his heart, his brain, envelops him into a deadly embrace from within; a warm sort of burn that doesn’t abate once the light is out. He wonders what it would be like to get it right from the source, not just have a scent memory that takes him back to the backseat of a car, to an office, to a quiet night on a mission. He’s never been a real smoker, but he could try. His fingers itch with the absence.

“Being with you is a little like secondhand smoking, you know,” Gaz blurts out.

“Being?” Price raises a brow and Gaz tries not to flush.

“Working.”

“Go on.”

“Leads to premature death.”

That makes Price laugh out loud, making him cough and cover his mouth with his fist. Gaz grins, willing his palpitating heartbeat to calm down – surely this isn’t the moment that his heart gives up on him, of all places, not on the job and exfil nowhere to be seen.

“You’re right about that,” Price chuckles once he’s recovered from his coughing fit. “Can’t tell which is going to kill you first, serving under me or my smoking.”

“I think we’ll find out,” Gaz shrugs. “Visit me at the hospital?”

“I’ll bring flowers to your grave every week, Sergeant,” Price says almost earnestly. Gaz nearly thanks him, save for the look in his eye. “But a pity. To die for the second-best thing.”

“At least I’d die from a real bullet.”

“You think I’ve tainted you enough by now?” Price muses.

“I think you did it by the trip to Moldova.”

“Like a smoke sauna, that car.”

“You ever been?”

“Nikolai took me once. You’d never know the difference.”

“I think I became a firsthand smoker,” Gaz grumbles, the memory of the stench of the smoke lingering in the car seats still ingrained in his memory.

“Almost like the real thing,” Price says.

His eyes linger on Gaz’s, then move to the stillness of the room. The smoke rises above them, swirling in the low light.

“Would you ever offer me one?”

“One of my cigars? Never.”

“Why is that?”

“Cigarettes suit you better,” Price says, voice low. “Your fingers… More slender than mine. A cigarette would belong there.”

“You’ve clearly thought about it.”

Price gives him a heavy look, straying to his hands – empty, still, aching to reach out.

“Yes.”

Gaz bites his lip. Price’s eyes travel back to his face, the blue of them piercing through his very being.

“Pity I don’t carry any.”

“Secondhand smoke it is, then?”

Gaz weighs the situation for a moment.

Ah, fuck it.

“Won’t hurt to have it straight from the source,” Gaz says, and crawls across the space between them – feeling slightly self-conscious, but it’s dulled by the expectant parting of Price’s lips. When he settles astride Price’s legs, Price meets his eyes – hooded, expectant – and brings the cigar to his lips.

Shotgunning is a delicate art – it has to be deliberate. The smoke, directed from one person’s lips to another, has to be a gentle blow; the inhalation precise. Gaz leans in slowly, chases that sliver of smoke from his lips, inhaling it into his lungs. And he feels it, first hand, the real thing, Price’s hand on his thigh and the other holding out the cigar, to stop the ash from falling on his clothes.

But there’s already a fallout: Gaz hands clutching the straps of Price’s vest, his mouth chasing the alluring smoke from Price’s lips, and when he leans back, it’s only for Price to inhale once more, and to pull him close by the chin.

He wonders which one’s better, the denial or the chase of it? The expectation of it or when it already burns his lungs? He thinks he already has the answer as the smoke turns into the soft press of Price’s lips, when the burning sensation turns into a greedy kiss.

Gaz hopes this will linger, too.

#pricegaz #gazprice #pricegazweek2024 #pricegazweek #narcissosbythepool #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #cod

[writtenjewels]

Take My Hand

Jason scrambled into the elevator. He did a quick glance to make sure Salim was with him before throwing the switch. The elevator lurched under their feet before the chain slowly started moving. He was a little surprised the thing worked after sixty years, and it was holding their weight, but it was good news for them. He let out a sigh of relief and turned to face Salim.

“Why?”

“Why?” Salim echoed, and Jason's mouth twitched. They did this same thing but in reverse when Salim told him no.

“Yeah. Why'd you listen to me?”

“I don't know,” Salim sighed. The corner of his lip moved up. “I suppose... I figured we've already come this far.” Jason grunted at that, shifting on his feet. Truth was, he was glad Salim went along with this and was still by his side. The guy could have refused or abandon Jason. But he was still here, and he didn't even seem mad about it.

The elevator came to rest. They were in a new cavern with weird glowing green shit on the rocks. That must have been what caused the glow they saw above. Jason stepped out first and took a look around. He couldn't hear any of the vampires, and just from a glance he saw they were right about the explorers coming down here: he saw a table with papers and an old book.

“I've seen some fucked up shit in my life,” he said to Salim, “but nothin' comes close to this.” Jason gave the space a sweep of his rifle. “They don't seem to be followin',” he added. Salim cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Would you like to wait for them or..?”

“No need to be a smart-ass,” Jason retorted with a roll of his eyes. He caught a smile on Salim's face and a teasing glint in the man's eye, but Salim turned his head away—clearly he hadn't meant Jason to see. Jason managed to tamper his own smile down.

Jason was not planning on ever saying so, but Salim was kind of funny. He made Jason laugh with that comment about shit. And it'd been fun to mess with him, too. Maybe I should have let him tell the joke, Jason thought. He focused back on the task at hand. He picked up the book he noticed earlier but it was all notes on artifacts the explorers found. Jason flipped through it and found no notes on the vampires. Discarding it, he turned to a weird object shaped sort of like...

“What is that,” Jason wondered aloud, “a cocoon? It looks like those things came from here.” Salim stepped forward to take a closer look.

“Smells like formaldehyde,” Salim judged.

“Since when did you become a scientist?” Jason teased.

“They don't teach you Americans science at school?” Salim threw back. Jason snorted; this guy was really starting to grow on him. “We should stay clear of it,” Salim added more seriously.

Jason took a discreet breath through his nose so he'd remember the smell. There was a lot of shit around this area. He noticed another book on the ground. When he knelt down, he saw it was embossed with a name. He suggested to Salim that it had intel, but Salim wasn't as optimistic. Salim turned out to be right. Jason threw the empty book back on the ground. He looked around, trying to find something. His gaze landed on some more strewn papers and a pocket watch. He clicked it open; it swung out to show a picture of a woman.

“Mary Hodgson,” he read. “Must be his wife.”

“Their story didn't end so well,” Salim noted gravely. Jason carefully placed the watch back again. “Jason?” Salim called.

“What?”

“I can't end up like this.” There was a fragility in Salim's tone. Jason felt compelled to say something, but no words came out. It surprised him a little that he wanted to encourage Salim and lift the man's spirits. Maybe because Salim had been doing it for Jason this whole time, and he wanted to give some of it back. Maybe he just wanted to be the reason Salim smiled.

Jason pushed the thought away and kept moving forward. It looked like to go forward, they would have to get onto a rock shelf. It was just a little too high for Jason to pull himself up.

“Salim, could you give me a boost?” Salim was willing enough. Jason got up and immediately turned. One of Salim's hands was on the rock, the other reaching up. Without a word Jason reached out to him. He turned his hand over, palm up, for Salim's hand to drop onto. Jason clasped on with his other hand for leverage and pulled Salim up.

“Thank you,” Salim said, squeezing Jason's hand. Jason returned the grip before letting go.

“Check it out.” He nudged Salim and pointed to the open space ahead of him. “It's that green linin' in the clouds everyone's always talkin' about.”

“I thought the saying was silver lining,” Salim corrected. He sounded amused, though, and the smile was back on his face.

“Well, down here all the shit is fuckin' green, so it's a green lining!”

“All right,” Salim agreed, laughing quietly. Jason felt a little swell in his chest. As he prepared to jump down, he thought just for a moment to offer his hand to Salim again.

He wanted to reach for Salim, and he really didn't know what to do with that feeling.

#jason/salim #jalim #jason x salim #jason kolchek x salim othman #salim othman #jason kolchek #house of ashes

[mobbothetrue]

i’m struggling to get to sleep a little, so i’m going back over childhood memories and stumbled across one that was almost a one hit KO.

I read a lot as a kid. My parents encouraged this, and got me a lot of books. Enough that, at one point, early in the morning and the only one awake, I was able to cover nearly every square inch of our living room in books. This probably led my parents to the realization that I, perhaps, had too many books, and we should get rid of some.

I was fine with that. I didn’t like to read books twice, you see, because I already knew where they were going and they didn’t entertain me anymore. That’s a philosophy that has changed, somewhat, with age, but that’s besides the point— there were a few books I wanted to keep. Strawberry Shortcake and something to do with mermaids. The few issues of the Beano I had. The Tin Soldier.

My parents boxed up a ton of books, and handed them in to my first grade classroom. Multiple large boxes of books. A comical amount of books. My teacher, Mrs. B, was very appreciative, But.

I don’t remember how this was uncovered. I don’t remember how I realized it, but… the tin soldier had been given away too. I didn’t mention it a paragraph ago, but it was my favourite book. I loved that book. It was about a tin soldier, missing a leg, in love with a princess or a ballerina. He got lost, or dropped, or maybe went on an adventure, I don’t recall, but in the end found his way back to the princess and was happy.

We did look through those boxes. Didn’t find it.

In sixth grade, I moved.

Well— technically, it was the summer between fifth and sixth grade that I moved. Still. In the years between, we never found that book. I had honestly forgotten about it. Sure, I had cried, but I did eventually find other books.

I guess word got around that I was moving. It was… something like the last day of school— not quite the end, but close. I remember snow on the ground, grey and slushy and mostly gone. I was just getting on the school bus to go home when Mrs. B came bustling out of the school.

She caught my backpack handle to get my attention, and I stopped on the steps of the school bus, looking down at her for what may well have been the last time I ever saw her. She had a book in her frail hands. The Tin Soldier.

She had never forgotten. She kept looking for that book. There was an apple sticky note on the front, addressed to me. It said some incredibly kind things, though most of the words are lost to memory. Encourage your creativity, I think, was the gist of it.

I just. Four years. She kept looking for that book for me for four years. I still have it, now, over a decade later. She must have had other, more important things to do. Four years! Where on earth had it been? I still don’t know, can’t imagine what could have possibly happened to it in the interim short of it slipping into a dimensional pocket. I loved that teacher.

#mobbtalks #not really a story with a point I suppose #my parents dd find another copy of the tin soldier for me after accidentally giving mine away #but the art was different and the story was slightly changed #other memories in this cycle include: spending recess stored away in a corner making an entire city out of little wooden blocks #attempting to do so again another recess only to have the teacher assign me as the buddy to the special needs kid. by which I mean she put #him in the same corner as me and told me to look after him #I remember being annoyed at having to share my city but he actually brought some really neat ideas to it #never really interacted again afterwards though. #I hated the teacher who was supposed to look after him though. she was an ass #like one day I came into school smiling and happy and kicked the snow off my boots Onto the Kick Snow Off Your Boots Mat #after like 30-40 other children had already done so- I was in the back of the line #and she came up to me and honest to god went ‘Why are you smiling.’ #so I said ‘today’s my birthday!’ because it was. I was probably turning seven #but that’s just a guess #and she said ‘I don’t care. do you think just because it’s your birthday you can get snow all over? I don’t want you to come to class until #you pick this all up’ and she like gestured at All the Snow tracked in by (again) 30-40 children (a lot of snow) #I remember scooping a couple handfuls outside and then shoving the rest under the mat because I’d be in trouble if I was late to class #went from smiling to tear streaked #… well that’s a sour spot to leave off a post about good memories on #uhhh what else can I recall #I used to get up super early but I’d get up even earlier for Christmas #one year I got up so early. I don’t know how early but I do know it was like WAY earlier than I had ever gotten up before #stared at the tree and the gifts underneath. considered if I could open one (just one!) secretly. decided against because my parents would #be so sad to miss any. stare at tree. stare at tree. vents make weird noise. oh shit the house is haunted and the ghost is gonna get me #ended up on the other side of the house wedges under a lawn chair (???? lawn chair = safety apparently) on top of a vent #(!?? the thing scaring me?!?) #and all three of our cats came out of the woodwork to square up around me. snooks who was honestly just the best no notes 10/10 cat #simba who’d wake me up on other days to beg for pets and then follow me around the house until other people got up #and Missy who Hated me and Hated Children and probably Hated Simba too (but not snooks because snooks was an Angel)

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

i hate going “hey i might not be up to hanging out im just not doing well mentally” but also i know if im either constantly panicking or completely out of it while we’re hanging out then it won’t go well

#got into a fight with my mum because she was like ‘well why r u still scared when we’re not seeing massive waves and hospitals aren’t #overrun and this 80 year old family friend has had it three times and is fine every time #and do you look at what people who don’t have the same opinion of you are saying’ #my response to this was ‘no I do look at the scientific articles that come out though and most of the ones about covid are finding it does #damage to multiple parts of the body’ #like. i already have fibromyalgia. we’ve removed the cancerous tumor but i still have iodine radiation and have to hope the cancer cells #they found in my blood vessels didn’t go far enough to spread and if they did that the iodine destroys them #like. is a kid with fibromyalgia not enough. im not doing chemo so it’s fine right just get me sick #does she not fucking remember how it destroyed her husband. she watched it we all fucking watched for weeks as he withered away from this #fucking disease #and then everything we didn’t see we got in twice daily calls from the hospital as they told us how his kidneys failed and they were excited #when he could breathe on his side for two hours instead of just on his stomach and then it killed him #am i the only one in the household who remembers seeing my dad as a barely breathing corpse when we forced him to go to the hospital because #he couldn’t say three words or walk a few steps without panting like he’d just done a sprint #im tired of her making me feel crazy for not wanting this disease im not irrational or insane for this i promise i promise im not #im tired of her coming in 5 minutes after i leave an argument going ‘don’t be angry with me. it’s just that-‘ and then making my only safe #place in this house a part of the argument too #fuck it it’s fine I’m out in a few months anyway #vent tw #sittin g in a corner rn so that the only open space is in front of me and i can pull my legs up to my chest and my fan is on and my windows #are open and im tired of being called crazy and paranoid and irrational #covid tw

[screampied]

‘ IT'S A MATCH: LAST FRIDAY NIGHT ! ,

profile. girl, matching with your best friend on tinder is pretty awkward. hooking up with him, even more awkward. wanna know what’s even worse though? saying that word—i love you.

wc 4.9k

warnings. fem! reader, modern au, humor, size kink, mutual pining, loser boy gojo, unprotected, cheesy pick up lines, praise, touch starved satoru, cunnìlingus, overstim, créampie, i felt silly ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

an. old old draft ;') based on the song last friday night. damn!

“mannn i’m so cooked,” gojo murmurs to himself, pacing back and forth. he’s dragging his feet against the silkened strands of the carpet before a soft pout spreads across his lips. “she left me on delivered for seven minutes…… seven.”

to be fair, in actuality you did. only because you were occupied with doing your hair. gojo being gojo was freaking out, thinking you were probably uninterested. albeit, once you finally did reply, his heart nearly fell out of his chest.

‘how does 7 pm sound?’

‘soid@:$:@) good’

‘um what?’

gojo mentally smacks his forehead, stupidly mashing on his keyboard, barely even letting a second go by once you responded. he was way too eager, he intakes a sharp breath before smiling — replying with a cheesy thumbs up.

he had the dumbest grin plastered on his face. after his best friend, you, advising him to give dating apps a try, he actually does. gojo matched with a lot of women not even minutes after installing the app onto his phone. how coincidental that the main person who caught his attention was you, the both of you matched and he made sure to text you first.

who knew though. that you’d be matching with the one and only satoru gojo. definitely not you, and of course, not him.

despite what everyone said, gojo was a bit of a womanizer, sure. but he was also a huge hopeless romantic.

he started fooling around on dating sites . . not looking for love necessarily but mainly to pass time. you mentioned it to him and he decided to give it a try.

pretty soon, time flew by quick. with a quick snap, it was just about to hit six o’clock pm.

gojo threw on grey sweats and ruffled up his hair a bit. he couldn’t lie to himself, first date and he felt a bit nervous. who was he kidding though, you told him to come to your apartment.

probably wouldn’t end up being a date, but still.

he read through your bio about three times, and your personality stood out to him.

you and him surprisingly had the same interests in lots of things, you loved sweets, and loathed scary movies. “…she’s so perfect,” he’d utter to himself, just imagining the sound of your sweet voice.

gojo abruptly snaps out of his thoughts—he didn’t want be too late, so with a quickness, he starts to make his way to your house.

with hands buried in his pockets, he gives a few hard knocks on the front of your door. about approximately nine seconds later, you open the door and his maw instantly drops. “y-you?”

“hey, y—satoru?” you mimicked the same reactions

the silence was practically deadly.

the two of you stared at each other for what seemed like centuries before you furrow your eyebrows. “satoru,” you mumble, bringing a hand towards your face to rub your forehead. “…you matched with me on purpose, didn’t you?”

“wha— noooo!” he protests, a cute pout tugging against the corners of his lips. he obviously did. you eyed him from head to toe. whilst his hands were buried into his pockets, you could tell that you made him a bit nervous. a light tint of color started to flush against his cheeks before he pulls on his sweater. “heh, is it gettin' hot in here or is it just me.”

“oh my god,” you suddenly spoke. “no wonder you didn’t have a profile picture,” and then you give him an abrupt glare. “satoru. why’d you even use the kfc logo as a profile picture anyway? idiot.”

“oh— it’s a long story.”

you deadpan, mentally face palming yourself.

gojo takes a good look at you, and he’s got a sudden sheepish grin. “woah,” he utters, and his eyes linger for a long time. he’s never seen you dress in such a formal pretty way. he felt a sudden heat rush to both sides of his face before without thinking, he murmurs. “you look kinda hot.”

“kinda? now i’m offended.” you scoff, tugging on your fishnets.

“all you’re getting from me,” he fake pouts. he then comes closer, closer . . all until he’s just inches apart.

one look at your dress and he just wanted to rip it off. you and him were so attached to the hip, he’s never expected to see you in this kind of light. if you were being honest, his gaze that ran against your entire figure made you a bit nervous.

throughout your long term friendship with gojo, he was known to be flirty every now and then. you figured that was just his personality but perhaps he started to view you different. “so,” he shrugs, bending down to your level as a way of mockery, “is this the part where we hook up?”

“well technically, yeah—” and you look right into his eyes.

he was just undressing you with eyes practically, cerulean bright irises roaming down your body before he hums. “…..oh,” and he awkwardly scratches his head. “so do i make the first move or—”

“you’re such an idiot. just kiss me, ‘toru.”

he snickers, and after what seemed like forever, gojo leans in for a kiss.

he was so pretty, he didn’t even have to try. long fluttering lashes that matched his snowy white strands flap closed. gojo tasted sweet, the moment his lips went against yours, you sink into his embrace. he was surprisingly a good kisser, not that you ever kissed your best friend or anything—but for some reason, it felt so warm.

so natural…

your heart, it starts to pick up a bit and your arms wrap around his broad shoulders.

gojo let off a soft grunt, your sweet aromatic perfume wafts right into his flared up nostrils. you shiver a bit, feeling his hands slowly drag up your body. minty, a good way to describe the brief taste that loiters on his breath. he was always chewing peppermint—an unserious guy with a sweet tooth, although this time maybe his sweet tooth was for you instead of casual sweets.

the kiss was passionate, you almost forgot you were literally making out with your best friend.

you did dream a bit about this moment, him holding you all close with his lips mashed against yours. his hand continue to wander, such big hands compared to yours. you slide your tongue against his before parting your lips just a bit further.

“….mhm,” he’d huff out in a muffled groan, and he made sure to focus his hands near your hips. his fingers brush against the thin fabric of your dress before he gives it a hasty yank.

steamy breaths collide against each other whilst each second passes—eventually, gojo’s leading you toward your bedroom.

no bother in asking you where everything was since he technically knew the layout of your house like the back of his hand. “wanted to do this for so long,” he finally speaks in shortened breaths—he’s panting, and you let off a soft gasp once he lifts you up. instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist and he slyly smiles. “you should really clean this place,” he murmurs, walking casually with you in his arms. “oh right, you can’t because you’re always at my house.”

“the point of hooking up is to not talk, satoru.”

“well excuse me,” he dramatically rolls his eyes.

at first you were a bit shy coming to the bitter realization that you ended up matching with gojo by pure luck. by now, things weren’t even that awkward—or at least awkward yet…

you didn’t wanna jinx it though, he leads you towards your bed before you plop down on your hands. you sit down, staring up at him and he starts to pull up his grey sweatshirt. you watch intensely, his abs peeking as he yanked it off before you spot a glance of his dark blue boxers hiding above his sweatpants.

so attractive . . .

you’ve seen gojo shirtless countless times but never completely nude. just imagining him, his glistening body presenting itself right in front of you… phew.

you intake a breath, mentally preparing yourself.

“awh,” he sneers, and you’re so secluded into your erotic thoughts that you don’t even realize he’s practically half naked now. all that was left was his wan-colored sweatpants. he was a tease, your eyes fixate towards his ripped chest—his abs, they were sublimely sculpted and chiseled.

sharp.

you felt like if you ran a finger down his perfectly structured v-line, you’d get a paper cut. his six pack flexed and you had to squeeze your legs shut. it was no surprise gojo had a daily work out routine. he’d even try to drag you to come with him sometimes. majority of the time, that’d go to no avail though. “enjoying the show, yeahhh?”

“shut up.” you grouse with a swift eye roll.

a smug grin curls up against his pink lips before he grabs your hand. “wanna feel me?” and you’re confused by what he wants you to feel until he makes you slowly slide your hand down his clenched pecs. you peer up at him, his body feels so warm— it was brick hard, exactly how you thought. your fingers continued to run down his ripped modeled chest before feeling against a scar. “cute fingers,” he teases, making it trail lower and lower until you spot his happy trail that was just about poking above from the very hem of his boxers. “you should pull them off of me.”

“fine,” you mutter with a puffy blow, bringing both hands towards his lower half. gojo stares, watching you pull down his sweatpants— then his briefs. you made sure to take your time, tugging on the stretchy aqua-blue fabric before within seconds, his length springs out. “you weren’t lying.”

“hm?” he says, watching your eyes continue to wander — he was definitely big, your memory suddenly refreshes of the pictures you exchanged with him, and the carpets very much did match the drapes. his shaft was . . turgid, at least the tip was. it was a pretty flashing pink, smeared with a few droplets of his own pre-cum. gojo was well trimmed, but had a few left over white specks scattered all across his base. he even had a cute mole down near the very edge of his length. specks of white hairs near his happy trail decorated his body, it was attractive. he had a left curve too, it was quite noticeable—a strikingly long vein that pulses at the sight of you, running down the very middle part of his dick and you merely moan.

as you move yourself closer, he’s stood standing while you’re sat on the bed and your glossy lips give his swollen tip a few chaste kisses.

“damnnnn,” he pants, feeling his cock twitch from the way your lips made instant contact with his tip.

the more you stared at his length from your peripherals—the more you observed its color. it had a rich rosy tan. slightly—still the same pinkish color with a brief tapered ridge. he was hefty, there was no question. inch after inch, he stood tall right in front of you. gojo claws a hand into your hair softly before sucking in his breath. “baby wait, i wanna do everything. ‘m already hard.”

you hum, amused—giving his frenulum a subtle lick before backing away, jibing out a, “oh really?” and then once he makes you lie back against the bed, you sit up with a sly grin. “do you even know how to eat pussy? and i’m not just talking about from your 'experience' from reddit or twit—”

“girl shut up,” his tone pitches an octave and it’s quite funny.

always sassy—you watch as gojo strum his fingers against your dress, taking his precious time to lift it up before feeling against your thighs. so soft, he’s always wanted to feel you—especially right here, take in every part of your curves, your gorgeous physique. his lips form into a cute scowl as he pulls you closer towards him. “i know what i’m doing.”

“yeah you do.” you sing along, and he shoots you a pout. you loved the banter between the two of you, toying along with him—he always made it so easy. it doesn’t take long before he starts peeling off your fishnets with his teeth, it was so dirty. you felt yourself throb a bit, edges of his teeth softly pricking against your skin as he yanks the thin nylon material made fishnets that stuck against your thighs.

your back lies flat against the bed and you intake a single breath. gojo rubs a hand against your tummy, you quaver a bit simply from his touch. he’s keeping eye contact the entire time too, irises never looking away for a split second—he mimics the same motion, peeling your panties off with his pearly canines.

it’s lewd, he doesn’t even pull them off all the way. instead, he just leaves it on you but has it rolled down to your thighs. “lotta back talk for a girl this soaked, to be honest.”

“ . . . . ”

you don’t reply, and he chuckles to himself. he finds your lack of an answer quite cute.

gojo stares between your parted thighs and your lips were all stretched—glistening with a sheet coat of your sweet arousal.

“so pretty,” he coos in a low voice, and you watch as he leans in—pressing a soft kiss against your entrance. immediately, his lips gets all shimmery from your own wetness and it’s hot. gojo purposely runs his tongue against his lips because he knows you’re staring directly at him. “my best friend tastes soooo sweet.”

“quit talking, ‘toru.” you moan and you don’t realize how your voice is becoming more and more shaky by the second.

“fine. fiiiiine, can’t have shit,” he grumbles playfully.

you stare as he prods two lengthy fingers against your slit. with a gulp, you prepare yourself. he gradually starts to insert two fingers inside, curling them up whilst it adapts to your warm walls and his arm shakes. “oooooh,” he whispers in a mere raspy voice. sweetened squelchy squelches came from your cunt and it was so loud it rang throughout your ears like church bells on a wedding day. “she’s quite— the talker, huhh.” he continues, and that’s right when he places his lips against your folds.

you swallow, feeling your back immensely arch from his hot lips.

gojo’s tongue swipes against your pussy. the middle part of his tongue skims down and it feels so good, he’s slow at first. he knows the exact direction to go and your toes curl. a free hand of his slides near your pubic mound, applying just the right amount of pressure—he does this so you can quickly feel your sweet g-spot. you do, and a gasp leaves your lips, it’s mindblowing.

already, he made you feel your forbidden g-spot.

you didn’t even know gojo—your dumb best friend had this kind of experience. as his palm presses down against the particular spot, his other hand is still occupied. lengthy fingers curl all throughout your walls, reaching every spot by prodding with just the right amount of deepness.

“f-fuckkk,” you whine, and suddenly your nerves make you shift your attention back towards his slick tongue. as his tongue was lolled out, a pretty clean pinkish tongue. he slithers it by using the back of his tongue, merely copying a sort of vacuuming type technique. the sounds that ran out his mouth was so filthy, your thighs start to twitch profusely and your hands found its way into his hair.

“s—satoruuu.” you’d babble and its only been a few minutes. a few long minutes, your squirming was cute to him. you tried focusing on your breathing patterns but that was no use. your mind went blank, empty like a canvas.

“mhm,” he groans, feeling himself get hard simply from your pitchy moans that reverberate and bounce across the thin walls. his fingers still went in and out of your cunt at a decent thrusting pace. the way you easily swallowed his two digits was just perfect, it didn’t take long at all for him to find your clit. “there she isssss,” he hisses cheekily, changing up his tongue strokes just a bit. it felt so good, heavenly. the way he drags it against your pussy. your jaw hung open with only sweetened sobs and whimpers leaving right past your spit-glossed lips.

whilst he’s rummaging through your vulva, he occasionally breaks away to spit right onto your cunt. it was no surprised gojo satoru was a messy man. he couldn’t help it, he’s fantasized about this exact scenario maybe once or twice. as his saliva trickles between your slit, he grunts as he watches. just all sopping wet just for him. he blows against your entrance just to make you squirm even more.

with his fingers still buried into your cunt, he does the ‘come here’ motion—a simplistically erotic motion where he uses not one but both index and his middle finger to flick back and forth inside of you. right there, oh you could have came.

“o-oh my goddd,” you whimper, his warm breath colliding against your arousal. “i-i’m close, satoru. think ‘m getting close.”

“aw,” he purrs in a sweet tone, using the flat of his tongue to lap up against your clit even further. you’re so soaked—his chin starts to drip with your slick and it’s so attractive. he pulls himself back to grin at you, a dumb pussy-drunken smile and nothing but your slick arousal running down his chin, so sheeny. “suck a little harder, she says?”

you nod, although you were sure your inevitable orgasm was quickly approaching.

your favorite part was when he sucks deeply against your clit, practically tongue fucking you. he had quite a long tongue so it did wonders, it made sure to reach every particular crevice imaginable. “nah don’t run from me now, gorgeous,” he utters sweetly once you squirm a bit more—he grabs on your hips, removing his two fingers just to hold you steadily in place. “give it to me, baby. show me how much of a messy girl my best friend can really be, huh.”

his dirty talk was just the icing on the cake. gojo’s just coaxing you towards your incoming release, all the while—it felt so good. the way your legs quavered, a trembling mess.

gojo’s holding your jerking hips against his mouth so he doesn’t miss a single taste. your mouth forms into a surprised 'o' and it’s like he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment—to be fair, he could have just asked a long time ago.

he was shy though, he didn’t wanna ruin the friendship—yet now that he’s propped up between your legs, eating you out like a starved man, you don’t know how you could continue to be just friends. not in a negative way, but after this—every time you’d stare at gojo, you’d just see his face that was right between your legs that one friday night ago.

once your orgasm comes, you whimper out— a ripple surging out of you and you’re so squirmy.

it was so intense, you fell into a trance, feeling that familiar spark combust and you’re slump back. your maw still hangs open and you’re so cute—only inaudible whimpers, cacophonies of his name, the repetitive whiney, “s—satoru, ‘toru.”

his nose brushes against your entrance before he pulls away—he grows quiet for a brief moment before sitting up, you’re out of breath before he leans in for a kiss. you moan right into his mouth, running a finger down his cute undercut and that makes him whine into your mouth. his undercut, he’s always liked the feeling of you running a finger down there—it hypnotized him in a way, the entire scene was so salacious. tasting yourself on his damp tongue, your legs wrapped around his waist and his dick brushes against your parted legs.

“you’re not that bad of a kisser, you know.” gojo mutters as he finally breaks away—a stringy shiny trail of spit departs and he sits up. “why can’t we do this more often?”

“you never ask,” you breathe, still getting over your recent release—he talks so much, you almost forgot how much of a blabbermouth he was. literally seconds ago his face was buried between your thighs and now he’s rambling to you about a sale he spotted on one of his favorite candies. “. . yeah yeah, lie back now.”

he lies back against the bed and watches as you make your way towards him. he lands backwards with an ‘oof’ before raising his eyebrows in amusement. “oh? you’re gonna be on top? what if i wanted to have you bent over—”

“i’d rather die than let you see me arched over.”

“heh, woah now angel—that’s just mean. after i gave you that teeth shattering orgasm,” he says with a dramatic eye roll. you align yourself with gojo, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and for a concise moment he grows quiet. “hm. don’t really care though, you’re still hot. straddling me like this and—”

you lean forward, silencing him with a kiss because he just wouldn’t stop talking—it was cute in a way though, gojo would literally talk your ear off. he kisses back immediately, feeling you hover against his leaky tip before lowering yourself further and further down. “mhm,” you’d gasp at the current stretch. it was hard to ignore, he was big—no secret about that. due to how sopping you were, it made it easy to just sink right down. gojo’s jaw tightens as he brings a hand towards your waist, another near your ass. with a tight squeeze, he continues to fall into sinful bliss at your cunt holding him hostage. your walls hugged him tightly the more you sank down. his breath was heavy, he heaved and heaved before you’re finally all the way down.

parting away once more, he utters out a needy, “touch me.”

“ask nicely,” you whisper, starting to rock your hips swiftly in place—you were so hot, especially in his eyes. you’re so warm inside, feverish, tingly. gojo swallows thickly, a breath getting caught in his throat as his white lashes flicker towards your waist. you brush a thumb against your best friend’s lips before humming. “touch me pretty please, say that.”

“how about i tell you a joke—” he cuts off, yet moans once he feels you grind your hips in a specific rotation—so good. he’s at a loss of words before his eyebrows curl up and furrow, head throwing back in pleasure. “heh. uh, check, please! know what’s on the m-menu? me ‘n you.”

“…………………..”

“…..you’re right, i should just shut up,” he puffs out, his cheeks burning with such heat. he holds onto your hips before he swallows his pride, speaking in a cute pout whilst avoiding eye contact. “touch me pretty please.”

you smile, trading a finger down his chiseled chest—so muscular, he was perfectly sculpted.

his loved your touch, it makes him ten times harder. your fingers roam against his body and he merely folds into putty, his abs—they clench as you’re being stuffed by full of his thick inches. gojo made sure to go slow, he didn’t wanna hurt you—especially considering how big and how much of a damn packer he was. so big you almost drooled.

he was mesmerized by the way you moved, with a single pivot of your hips it didn’t take long for him to locate that spot. you moaned, feeling a surge of haziness overtake you before you lean in to kiss near the crook his neck.

“man,” he croaks, and each time he speaks—his voice gets more raspy and out of breath. “uh, keep ridin’ me like that ‘n i’m gonna die. your pussy’s fuckin’ dangerous—shit.”

again, he rambles while you’re riding him in the same constant rotation. he falls in love with the jerks, the way you grind and delve your hips even further into him.

it’s amusing to study his facial expressions though, the way his blue irises would roll back into the very depths of his cranium—his pink sheeny lips parting, even his irregular breathing patterns. he was so whiney, your cunt swallowed him whole and he starts to feel fuzzy. hot, you felt so hot inside. it merely gives him whiplash once he feels your hands trail up toward his chest. his chest, more so his pecs—abs, his nipples.

“s-sensitive there…” he pants, and with his same grip against your hips he drags you closer—back and forth, it was so slow. you’re grinding against his body and he thinks he’s feeling a certain type away. you know, that word. this entire view, seeing you top him like this—gojo was about to lose his mind, a fiery sensation pools low into his abdomen. you had him all hot and bothered, it didn’t take long before his thigh starts to bounce.

“are you?” you tease, leaning in to run your tongue against his perky nipples—oh, his reaction. it was priceless, he grips onto your hair this time, moving a few strands away from your face while you’re still riding him before he whimpers. with shaky lips, he begs for you to suck harder. you didn’t even know if he was into something like this, perhaps your best friend was a freak.

a freak in bed.

you wondered if he’d be like this if he got matched with some other random girl on tinder. being this whiney for them, but since you two were close maybe you had an exception.

“angelllll,” he drags out his words, and it’s cute. his tongue rolls a bit and beads of sweat start to race down the side of his forehead. “i’m gonna—”

suddenly, he grows quiet once his cock that was buried into your folds abruptly slips out.

he slowly looks up at you with a head tilt, and you’re staring right back up at him—he’s still panting with his hands attached to your hip. “oops,” he sheepishly laughs, trying to ignore how he was so close to shooting right inside of you. it squelched, you break away from his chest before kissing near his neck. he moans, aligning himself back against your entrance. “f-fuck that was kinda hot.”

“i can’t tell who sounds like the girl more,” you start to pant yourself, and you feel yourself coming close right with him—you briefly bite your lip before feeling such nerves sneak its way inside. his girth, it never failed to leave you speechless. with gojo, he was a bit thick but more so lanky—thin, yet he made sure to reach every crevice of your cunt. you felt him deep, the more his hold against your hips tighten—the more he’s pumping you full. you’re constantly leaning forward, cupping his face before sneaking a few kisses near the corners of his lips.

“shut up,” he rasps, and he’s close. you’re about to milk him dry—his breathing picks up and he presses his fingers right into your hips. strands of his hair runs through his face before he whines, head throwing back in pure bliss. “god, you do it so good—so good, ‘m gonna cum,” and then with pretty hooded eyes, he swallows before reaching between your legs. he runs a hand against your sopping wet cunt that was a sheer mess itself before sighing lowly, “where do you want it, angel? tell me if i should—”

“inside,” you whisper, and your voice was so close up to his ear that he could have just came from your voice and your voice alone. shivers ran through his body, your chest presses against his and he’s maneuvering quicker circles against your pussy. “f-fuck, ‘toru. ‘m gonna cum too.”

his ruffled hair was all in his face, it was cute. you’re being stuffed full—he’s so hefty you’re dizzy, approaching that release before seconds pass and you gush out. it comes out slow, a shockwave ripples out and you whimper—softly nibbling your teeth deep into the inside of his neck.

“oh f—fuckkk,” he babbles, and his voice ends up cracking, its adorable. both of his ears burn with radiating heat before he finishes, dumping a sloppy load of velvety ropes into your cunt. you literally did milk him, you bring your hips to a more slow stop—deeply grinding against him still and he slumps back. he pours so much into you he’s speechless himself, a hand hooked around your waist as you continue to swivel. “i just— i need you—shitttt.”

you stare at gojo and he’s all dumb, panting heavily. his chest heaves and tightens, loving the warmth of your plush thighs wrapping around him. “i.. i think i love you,” he abruptly says, and with his tone—it’s like in more of a question, he watches your shocked stare peer into him and he sighs. “i don’t wanna use dinder anymore, i— i just want you.”

“it’s called tinder, satoru,” you kiss near the side of his lip. “and i love you too, dummy.”

“really?” he looks at you, still smothered with a look of fatigue—he could go for more rounds but he needed a minute—plus he may or may not have a cramp in his leg. “soo when’s the wedding then?”

you deadpan and he sheepishly smiles at you, he’s still got a firm grip on your waist.

the feeling of gojo’s remains of cum just seeping down your thighs as you straddled him—still with his twitching shaft inside made you kiss your teeth a little. “i’m sure you’ll get cold feet, you’re scared of literally anything.”

“pft. girl, that’s not even remotely true. do you realize who you’re talking to?”

the arrogant gojo came back — you roll your eyes and he slyly grins, yet all the meanwhile he’s holding you close against your chest. you let him kiss you once more before you both pull away once his phone suddenly beeps.

a loud screeching notification . . you were assuming it was a text. he feels you shift a bit, turning to see what it was but pulls you closer towards him, deepening the kiss. you give up, locking your arms around him once more, preparing to start up your hips again.

oh, he tastes candied, sweet…

you moan straight into his mouth before the phone ends up beeping again and again.

consistently until it starts to get annoying, gojo grunts, departing from your honeyed lips. “who’s texting me, angel? thought i turned tinder notifications off.”

you grab his phone, it brights up from your fingertips hovering against the screen before you squint. “uh, it says . . . suguru geto?”

he repeats. “suguru ge—” and then he timorously runs a hand through his hair with a raised eyebrow. “oh. eh, what’d he say?”

you pause for a long moment before reading the message, by long—seven consecutive seconds to be exact, your lip twitching, slowly realizing as you skim through the text by this ‘suguru geto.’

“. . . he says that he had fun last night.”

“oh!”

#★vegasbaby. #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #female reader #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x you #jjk fic #jjk x reader smut #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #cw sex mention

[fingertipsmp3]

I can’t explain it but I do feel like there’s ghosts and supernatural stuff going on. Obviously I have no proof but I 100% believe it

#i have never myself seen a ghost but my friend saw the ghost of my dad and described him to me 100% (she’d never met him when he was alive) #and told me he said my name and then this other name that at the time meant nothing to me. but two years later i befriended someone with #that name and she’s now my best friend #i also once went to lay flowers at the tree where i scattered my dad’s ashes and when i turned around the field was absolutely COVERED #in white feathers. i swear to you they were Not there when i was walking up. my mom (biggest skeptic in the world) was there too and she #also has no explanation for this. nothing happened that could’ve caused thousands of white feathers to suddenly appear across a quarter mile #radius. also. i used to smell my dad’s cigar smoke for about 3-4 years after he died. it wasn’t constant. just every so often #i used to hear his footsteps on the stairs every so often for about 5 years after he died and once while i was crying i swear i felt him sit #on my bed. and sometimes i’d be home alone and hear him typing in the office and then remember no one was there and the typing would stop #it all stopped when i was probably 16-17 so i think that’s when he decided i was fine and passed over #i think it takes time for a spirit to ‘pass’ fully. some might do it at the same time their physical body died but i think others #hang around. i think my dad wanted to see me grow up so badly that he did stick around but wasn’t able to interact properly #because i couldn’t see him or even hear him unless he interacted with the environment #i wonder sometimes if he left so that kim wouldn’t be alone on the other side #i also know that my friend’s house is haunted. i’ve heard banging in the walls and she’s sent me a video of a deflated balloon moving around #by itself in a way that’s really unnatural. like how does a balloon with no helium in it turn multiple corners and go upstairs #that video might honestly be the most compelling piece of evidence for paranormal activity in the world lmao #plus the whole place just has the worst possible vibe. an actual murderer lived there about a decade before my friend’s family moved in #which honestly brings me onto my next point which is that some places are absolutely haunted and some will never be #i lived in this house a couple years ago that was a 1930s terrace and honestly looked so stereotypically haunted #but it was actually completely sterile. not one single ghost. one of my flatmates was worried about staying there alone and i was like #‘literally don’t even. you could draw a pentagram on this floor and sleep in the centre of it and nothing would happen’ #some people are more likely to be haunted as well. i think i’m on a wavelength that i can’t actually see apparitions but i can know they’re #there; based on if they interact with the environment. some people will actually see apparitions #and some people will not see smell or hear a damn thing #it’s like a radio frequency except you can’t choose to tune in or out of it #thank you for coming to my ted talk #personal

[artbyblastweave]

I was raised by scientifically conscientious parents, real big on logic and empiricism and all that jazz, and I really took it to heart. So when I first heard about the birthday candle wishes thing, I did what came naturally. I tried to test it empirically. I invited this kid in my first grade class who was kind of a dick, called me names, tripped me when the teachers weren’t looking, penny-ante schoolyard bully shit. And when they brought the cake out, they told me to close my eyes and make a wish, and I did, and when I opened my eyes the kid hadn’t exploded. Not even a little. At this point I was kind of tempted to write it off, but even then I had an eye towards the replicability crisis, and I knew one failure wasn’t publishable. So next year I invited the same kid, wished again, he didn’t explode that year, either. Or the year after that. Or the year after that. I mean I really sacrificed for this project. My parents had a hard capacity of five guests per party, and every year he took a slot that could have gone to a person who wouldn’t declare open season on the other three guests. And even though I don’t even like pottery, I kept asking to have the parties at the DIY pottery place because that was the only non-suspicious way to have get everyone in smocks and googles when they brought out the cake. But one of the really insidious things I had to deal with was the sense of, I dunno, moral corrosion. Because, you invite a guy you don’t even like to a birthday party six years running with ulterior motives, humoring him, making him think you consistently want him around...  you’re leading the guy on! And moreover I know what it’s like to be on the other side of that, I used to get invited to birthday parties because people wanted to copy my notes. And it’s shitty to wake up one morning and realize you’ve become a bad guy in the same creeping way, and that just must be how that happens. I mean right up until the guy spontaneously combusted at the cake-cutting at my cousin’s birthday party in 2013, I genuinely think he thought we were friends. All to say that this is why research ethics courses are, like, super foundational. Can’t cut corners on that!

#shitpost #my writing #thoughts #my fiction

[homunculus-argument]

Fascinating to notice how often you can save yourself a lot of stress and grief by simply double-checking that you and other people mean the same thing when you're talking about things. My partner has often voiced his desire to get the fuck out of society and civilisation and move in the middle of nowhere to grow potatoes and hunt game for meat in a little red hut in the woods. I told him that alright, but just as a heads-up I'm pretty sure that while he would survive, I'd probably straight-up fucking die out there.

And today we were looking up woodland properties around the country, just to generally get some kind of a picture of what size the ones for sale are, and what kind of prices they're going in, and ended up finding an affordable one that'd be in the absolute dead centre middle of complete wilderness, and he remarked that yeah, that's too isolated. I was genuinely confused, too isolated? Wasn't he just specifically looking for the most desolate corner of backwoods where he could live without ever seeing society again, totally off-grid, returning to hunter-gatherer and not having anyone find his mummified corpse for decades if not centuries after he dies out there? After we die out there, that is.

He was baffled that I had honest-to-god thought that he had meant "absolute middle of nowhere out of reach of society of any kind" when he said he wants to get away from society. This whole time, he had meant "nice little rural place where people don't end up by accident (but still a reasonable drive's away from the nearest grocery store)", and not literally dead middle of nowhere. This whole time he had thought that when I said "okay but I will probably die", it meant that I would wither and die of misery like a näkki on dry land if he took me into a city smaller than 50,000 people. And this whole time I had thought that he really meant to take us we-will-literally-die-out-here Out There kind of out-of-society.