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#his grades are gonna drop again
tanglepelt · 9 months
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Dc x dp idea 100
John likes to trick beings to getting himself a good deal and screwing the entities over. So he does this with the new ghost king.
He somehow worded the deal to keep the king in his home realm. You know to keep Danny in the infinite realm unable to attack the earthly realm.
This backfires. And backfires hard. Danny’s home realm is still the earthly one. All John did was not let him back into the realm.
Danny is thrilled. And living his best life. No more council meetings, the paperwork is stuck in the keep, the Observants can’t force him to do kingly duties and above all else. He is passing all of his classes. Scheduled fights with his rogues help as well.
John. Well he’s not having a good time. The Observants are screaming at him, the new king is stuck in earth who knows what he is up to, and he’s had visits from all of Danny’s ghost guardians to yell at him.
John has to break the deal.
Danny doesn’t want to.
When Danny eventually agrees to discuss it. He shows up with a ghost lawyer, sam, and Jazz all in order to secure Danny a good deal. Maybe tucker as well.
Danny wants at least rated M and movie tickets for him and his friends for life, and of course Martian manhunters autograph.
Jazz wants him to get a guarantee that they would leave him alone.
Sam wants them to guarantee ghost protection and end the Giw.
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yelenapines · 5 months
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watched tbosas today. needless to say i am obsessed with the red uniform skirt and they should have been wearing those the whole movie. thank you.
#tbosas#much more to say about this movie but thats it for now#actually no lets TALK#they literally changed how the games end which is fine but like how is no one noticing#also um clemensia dropped in got bit and thats it?? bye bye? have fun?#also this annoying bitch in my grade said she hates sejanus in the movie but loves him in the book um please get his name out of your mouth#if you're gonna be speaking filth about my son#ugh#anyways um rachel ate#love how the movie can tell the whole story tho i *am* conflicted about my feelings on how fast paced it was#and then again not seeing his inner monologue is a problem but like it's a movie so idk#also ofc the vibe is different between parts 1 and 2 and part 3 idk why people dont like it i think its cool and like thats the point to se#his evolution#sejanus' death was horrible like i'm sorry the mockingjays reproducing his last cries for help are just.#anyhoo#i will not shut up ok let's keep going#ik that like ppl are simping for tom blyth and as u should tbh same but you COULD NOT CHANGE HIM OR FIX HIM IK ITS A JOKE BUT IT BOTHERS ME#SO MUCH#like ik it's being silly and goofy but it just rubs me the wrong way cause like its not true#also Tigris and Snow's story is so fucking sad kms#also TF WAS THAT MOMENT IN THE ARENA WHERE SEJANUS ALMOST KISSED CORYO WE ALL SAW IT OK#sejanus is not straight at all lmao he spent the whole movie batting eyelashes at coryo but ALSO i love the angst of the marcus x sejanus i#idea i made up#also coriolanus is so fucking goofy like bitch pls “mY oLd SeLf. I kIlLeD hIm To Be WiTh YoU” bestie sit down#ok rant over#yelenaposts#sejanus plinth
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newervegas · 3 months
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okok sleep deprived BUUT i think i have the j//jk verse figured out so far!!!!!!
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three clowns atm!! shiori (g*ojo), minako (t*oji + ch*oso) and kanna (n*anami) !!!!!!! 🌸💕
minako is g/ojos older sister (by a few years she graduated college and was in her first year as a teacher in ye olde flashback era of when g*ojo and besties were in school) she was married and thus and still into today she uses her late spouses surname mizuhara.
shiori is either n//aoyas twin but they weren’t really close as kids and aren’t close now so there isn’t much to that?? (or maybe they were but now its strained due to yk succession who gets to be heir i am not quite sure about that yet!! oo it would give s//uccesiion but make it j//jk OO!!!!!) ORR she’s the older sib of m*ai and m*aki?? and still candidate of heir (?) in that as well?)
BUT ANYWAY..!!!! she was an old classmate of g/ojo and the besties (was maybe in either his year or n/anami and kannas year?) AND BESTEST BUDS. its giving childhood sweethearts to lovers yk? CUUTE.
fast forward t*oji passes….ish. right she and him after they grad they raise her nephew together (he even has a room at her apartment they’ve been SUUPER married but never got together what gives yk?? ILL EXPLAIN 💀) so her career skyrocketed (as an actress?? model? both????) and so things got busy BUUT like they’ve baaasically been living together and raising two youngins (minako and t*oji have a daughter aya <3) they hang out like ALL THE TIME……. and yet not married 💀
(but i mean thats not to say they’ll never yk *giggles* shes taking a year off of to help out and support m*egumi at his first year with goj 🥀🤧 SUPER MARRIED PARENTS!!) theyve alsoo been very invested the last decade or so with getting two of their besties together ever since n*anami said he was interested in her since like forever and never told them about it but swore to never tell her about it so theyve been trying to subtly *wheeze* set them up 🥀🤡
WHICH LEADS ME TO KANNAAA so she’s the granddaughter to the principal of the k*yoto campus and she transferred to tokyo so not to have the rep as “principals kid” (she still did alas 💀✨🤧) and possibly get special treatment bc shes related to one of the administrators. her curse technique she uses (its like c*assia in r*ogue trader-ish seeing emotions, curses and resonances as colors and swipes of paint and swipes of a paintbrush !!) and its helpful as she is a psychotherapist these days for sorcerers !!!!!!! 🌸 very much on the outside cool and collected “has her stuff together.” meanwhile that mask hides behind a hot mess teehee <3 also parties a lot chronic partner drags shiori to all of her after parties and galas and suggests kanna “tags along” so she can party 🥀😌 the girls are thriving!!!!!!!!
she didn’t think anything of nan and in fact likely didn’t even know he existed let alone has had a childhood harbored crush on her 🥀💀 ……. and then they reunite when they’re set up together in ep9 TEEHEE (everyone (g*ojo and shiori) cheers they’re brains for suggesting she aid them HUUUGE) she had planned only to be there for the exchange event and then go back to things buuuut teehee n*anami like kanna fell HARD (everyone’s thrilled especially g*ojo and shiori ndjxxh) and thus decided to take a transfer to be in t*okyo HEHE.
SO GOLDFISH BRAIN their curses!! minako (dream walking/weaving), shiori (pied piper if i make her an actress she doesn’t do musicals or play instruments UNLESS there’s curses in her midst bc she can control them and people in the vicinity with her ability (like meat puppets 🥀🤧 BUUT if i made her a model people already would expect her not to sing so i mean it would be convenient??) and kanna was listed earlier!!
(also when g*ojo and shiori finally DO get together everyone was like ????? we thought you both already were?? and they were like 🥀🧍‍♀️🧍👁️✨😶🫨)
BONUS TRACK VERSION: so nan and kan begin as more of a fwb but it doesn’t last im thinking bc teehee <3 BUUT not before shiori stopped by kans place for something and noticed…… something of nanamis there 🥀💀 (like a tie or jacket of his or something yk?) BUT THE WAY SHIO BOLTSSSS TO DELIVER THE NEWS very had to be ✨ so normal ✨ around them lest ye aforementioned parties are made aware that they know 🌸💕🫨🥴
#leg.txt#t: personal musings#i am so sorry if this makes no sense dkxjxhgc i haven’t gone to sleep and it’s 7 am 💀) ANYWAY i hope y’all are well!!!!!! 🌸💕#*its 8 am now *wheeze* leg go to sleep challenge (impossible) the saga continues 🥀🤡#veery trying to keep it vague xkxhhxh since i think im a bit over halfway thru s1#and like yk this all could SUUPER change yk?? (alsoo i can’t wait to dev minako and c*hoso once i meet him they’re gonna be the cutest AHH)#alsoo jess i may beeline to the ye olde messages bc i have hyperfixation bad rn 🥀🤧😌✨☺️ binge watching it and feeling normal rn!! <3#ill go into a lore thingy on minakos new lore later !!!!!! leg need nap *wheeze* 🥀🤧🥴✨#but like in short toj they meet she went on a date to tell him she’s married its dropped#SUBSEQUENTLY he’s given an assignment interestingly to zero her man and the immediate family#(she had to grade an assignment that night where her students wrote their own plays!!)#i mean in his mind even with his profession he’s the tiniest wee bit grateful she wasn’t attending that night 🌸💕☺️😵‍💫#something something in love with the mark trope I LOVE SYMBOLISM!!!!!!!#and like her and goj were SUUPER close until he passed then she never really wanted to see him or speak to him again#leg returning to their v//tm era while also needing to write that w//itcher fic and other things 🥀🥴 but!! we are creating though yay!!!!!!!#that is a BOTCHED summary of things for minakotoj if i ever saw one kdjxhxhx 🥀🤧
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
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baby shoes
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words: 2.3k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?
rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.
“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”
you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.
“yeah, real cute.” he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.
“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.
“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”
rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.
you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.
--
look how cute this baby is rafey
“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”
“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.
“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.
you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”
“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.
“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”
“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.
“okay, true.” 
--
“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.
“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!” 
rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine. 
“what are you wearing?”
“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.
“why would you want that?” rafe questions.
“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”
rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.
“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.
-- 
“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.
“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.
“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.
“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.
“it can be.” rafe shrugs.
“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.
“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.
“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.
what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.
“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.
“you would?”
“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”
“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.
“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.
“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.
“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.
“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”
he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.
“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.
“tell me!” you complain again.
“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”
you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.
“i-i-” you stammer.
“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”
“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.
“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”
“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.
“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”
“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”
you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.
he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.
“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.
“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.
“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.
rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.
“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”
you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.
“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.
“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.
rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.
you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.
“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.
“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.
rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.
“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.” “oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.
“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”
its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.
“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.
“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.
“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.
your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you. 
you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.
--
“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.
“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room. 
“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.
“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.” “oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.
“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.
“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.
“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”
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cursingtoji · 10 months
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11 and 21 with gojo please please PLEEK
One Bed + Hate Sex
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⊱ ex!gojo x fem reader, smut, one face slap (on him), degradation but also praising ig?, possessive gojo, 2k words (this almost consumed me) ┊The Clichés ™
note: i got a litte crazy in the process of "why would i hate gojo" and ending up taking an extra prompt from the list for this so... ta dah ✨ ex boyfriend gojo enjoy
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“It's been a while” Satoru greets.
One year it’s a long time, seeing him makes your stomach hurt but you realize you don’t carry as much resentment as you used to.
After your break you asked to be sent on missions far from tokyo, you knew eventually you would see Gojo Satoru again, and there he was, in casual clothes standing by the exit of the train station you agreed to meet at.
You felt him before you turned around the corner, and he felt you too. His six eyes could see the flames of your cursed energy increasing and decreasing as you tried to control your emotions. When you showed up he smiled, eyes hidden behind the sunglasses.
“Indeed.”
The director of Kyoto explained Gojo was meeting you there cause he got a lead on a special grade cursed object and you would be his companion on the search that would start tomorrow morning. That shouldn’t be hard, right? 
“How've you been?” he asks politely.
“We don’t need to do that” you reply quickly as both of you made your way to the cabs.
“Why? Am I supposed to not care for your well-being anymore?” his question would seem innocent to anyone, but you have trained ears for Gojo Satoru, and you can tell when he’s being patronizing.
“Yes, just like I don’t care about yours” you enter the cab and give the driver the name of your hotel, Gojo walks around the cab and sits beside you. The close proximity of him in this confined space already makes you uneasy.
“Don’t be like that, I know that’s not true” he puts his arm behind you, his cologne invading your senses and you consider rolling down the windows, but nostalgia stops you, “No matter what you say, i can still read you like a book” he whispers moving some strands of hair out of your shoulder.
Gojo knows you’re too well-mannered to do or say anything to him in this cab, you don’t wanna embarrass yourself in front of the driver even though he’s a stranger. Gojo always hated how much you cared about other people’s opinions — one of the things that you constantly fought about near the end of your relationship — yet he knew how to use that on his advantage.
The cab drops you off in front of your hotel and you leave Gojo to pay for it while making your way to the reception, giving your last name.
“I’m sorry, miss, I couldn’t find a reservation under your name” the girl at the reception says.
“Wha— didn’t you make a reservation?” you ask Gojo.
“I thought you were gonna make it” he shrugs and you have to restrain yourself from attacking him.
“Fine. Two rooms for tonight only” you turn to the receptionist again.
“Sorry ma’am, we’re all booked for tonight” she explains.
“Can you check again?” Gojo extends a membership card and she types something on her computer.
“Oh we have one master suit available for premium members” you roll your eyes.
“We'll take it” he says.
“Wait, just one?” you intervene.
“I'm afraid so, it’s the only room available for tonight.”
“So what’s gonna be, baby? Sleep with me or on the street?” he pushes his sunglasses down his nose bridge, wanting to see in detail your facial expressions as he teases.
“Don’t you dare call me that” you growl at him, “I shouldn’t have agreed to this mission” you mumble the last part looking around and considering your options.
“But it was not your decision to make, was it? You’re too much of a people pleaser to even question an order from those bags of bones you respect so much” he mocks bringing in a frequent fight topic.
“We'll have the room” you turn to the receptionist after realizing you didn’t have much to do anyways, right now you just look forward to locking yourself in the bathroom for at least one hour while you wash all the Gojo Satoru out of your system.
Gojo offered to carry your small one-night bag, but as expected you don’t let him take it, once you arrive at the room you can’t help but admiring how fancy it is. Just the kind of place Gojo used to get for the two of you.
“Good thing it’s a king size” you murmur looking at the huge bed, should be enough to sleep without touching him.
Gojo walks past you, pulling his sweatshirt over his head, the shirt underneath raising slightly but enough for you to take a peek at his back muscles and gulp.
“I'm going to shower” you announce, taking some clothes out of your bag and leaving your phone at the nightstand.
“Without me?” he blinks suggestively.
“Ugh” you slam the bathroom door in disgust.
Gojo laughs and lays at the bed getting comfortable, he reminisce the times when you were dating and he showed up at your hotel even if he was not part of your mission, he would get you a secret upgrade for a room with hot tub and sat there with you leaning on his chest while you talked about a future where you would be a teacher alongside him and not need to travel so much. Later he would assure the two of you would make it work through kisses and sweet whispers while fucking you slowly and passionately and take you out on a nice restaurant afterwards.
Gojo is pulled out of the memory lane by your phone’s message tone, he doesn't think twice before reaching to see what's your notification.
> did you arrive well? Xx
Suddenly he sees red. The contact name is unknown to him and he prides himself on knowing almost every sorcerer in Japan. So who the fuck is that?
Once the bathroom door opens, Gojo confronts you immediately.
“You moved on quite fast” you look up, noticing the phone in his hand and quickly trying to snatch it back before he disappears from the bed and reappears behind you.
“Don’t fucking test me, Satoru” you try again.
“Who’s he? Huh?”
“None of your business” you get closer and on your tiptoes to retrieve the phone, Satoru holds your wrist with more strength than necessary.
“Is he a curse-user? Kyoto faculty? Answer me” he pushes you until your back hits the wall, throwing your phone over his shoulder — not giving two shits if it breaks — and moves to be in between your legs, holding both your wrists above your head in one hand.
“None, get off of me”.
“Non— you’re dating a civilian?” he laughs, the psycho laughter gives you chills.
“You have no right to speculate about my own private life!” you tried to kick him, but he closed your legs between his own.
“That's why you broke up with me? To be with a boring fucking no-one?” that’s the angriest you ever seen Satoru, even when you fought he always kept his voice down, as if to tease you even more.
“I did break up and you didn’t even question it, did you? Didn’t even put up a fight!” you yell like you’ve been meaning for so long, after a big fight you yelled that you two should break up and his ‘yeah, maybe we should’ shocked you.
Satoru’s grip loses around your wrists, his big blue eyes look down at your anger filled ones seeing a hint of hurt in the features of the girl he fell madly in love with.
Fuck, he missed you so much.
You're panting at this point, both of you stay silent until your gaze falls to his lips, that's all the encouragement he needs to close the gap and kiss you, you gasp when the towel slides down to your feet, now physically and emotionally exposed to him. Gojo groans when he touches the bare skin of your waist and your arms fall on top of his shoulders. It’s incredible how quick you surrender to him, lips parting for him to taste his beloved one.
You can’t help the way your body reacts to him, not even when you attempt to rub yourself on his thigh and he stops you.
“‘S your boyfriend not taking care of you?” his tone drips mockery, a hand crawls up grabbing your breast harshly.
Before you can send him to hell his tongue is shoved back inside your mouth and you rub your thighs together already feeling yourself getting wetter.
“Fucking slut” he groans on your lips pinching your nipple and moving to cup your cunt, “Does he touch you like this? Like the whore you are? Or he treats you like a little delicate thing you pretend to be?”
Your palm acts fast to slap his cheek.
“Fuck” he moans, the burn on his face going stray to his dick as he ruts against your stomach.
Satoru slides the hand between your legs to spread your slick and press the heel of his palm on your clit, you whine, pressing your back against the wall.
“You’re not getting away from me, so don’t even try” your former boyfriend pushes his fingers without much resistance from your moist walls.
“T-Toru” you shut your eyes letting the nickname escape. This is all he dreamed of, having his name come out of your lips again, but he still couldn’t get over the fact you let someone else touch you, especially someone that did not understand you like he did. Someone that had no idea the type of job you had and how dangerous it was. Someone that would stand up during the mission assignments to volunteer for the most dangerous ones so you wouldn’t go.
“That’s right, baby, say my name” he curls his long fingers inside you, moving one arm out of his shoulder to guide your hand into his pants, where you quickly wrap around his length. You move his pants and underwear out of the way, the hot skin of his dick touches your stomach and you look down. And god, he has such a pretty cock it’s unfair.
“Wanna suck me, gorgeous?” he murmurs, watching the lust in your eyes, “Missed my cock in your mouth?” he hits the sweet spot inside you harder when you don't answer, “Say it” he grabs your jaw forcing you to stare at the dark ocean in his eyes.
“Y-Yes, I missed your cock” you confess, letting out all the times you pretended it was him pleasuring you instead of your fingers.
You squeeze his base when he fastens his fingers and your orgasm approaches, but it doesn't take long before he removes them and you whine.
“You’re all bark and no bite, all it takes is having your pussy played with and you get quiet” he bites your lobe, his harsh words make you wanna hide your face in embarrassment.
“Satoru, please” you beg and pull his pants all the way down trying to move to get on your knees.
“No, you’ll take what I give you” he grabs your arm and pushes you onto the bed, discarding his shirt before moving to position your knees on the mattress, “You’re lucky if I even let you cum tonight…” he strokes his cock with your remaining moisture on his hand before moving to bury himself in your walls, “... after everything you put me through” he confesses the last part in a hush.
“M-Me? Fuck you, Satoru” he fucks you roughly, not giving you time to argue back.
“Yeah, you” he punctuates with a particularly hard trust, “Can’t believe you were sleeping with someone all this time” his voice breaks but his pace doesn't.
You feel him in your cervix, but his tone pulls you out of your pleasure to explain yourself.
“I’m no— not” you whisper and he stops to lean over you.
“What was that?”
“I’m not… sleeping with him, he’s not— he’s no one” you confess slightly turning your head to look at him, his eyes squint as you feel his hot breathing against your neck and chest on your back.
“Good” he straightens up and pulls out. You turn around sitting on the bed and pulling him by the neck to kiss you again, Satoru complies, crawling with his lips attached to yours, until you're laying on the pillows wrapping your legs around his waist so he’s back inside you, “Missed this cunt so bad” he cups you again, feeling the way your lips stretch to his length while sucking on your nipples.
You arch your back “Hate you so… much— agh!”
“No you don’t, you never have” he bites your nipple and your nails sink on his back.
“This is pretty empty for an all booked hotel” you comment when you sit at the restaurant for breakfast the next morning while a cup filled to the brim with coffee, having slept only 4 hours since Satoru kept you up all night, denying your orgasm until you begged and apologized.
“Is it?” Gojo tilts his sunglasses looking around, finding only four other tables occupied while you stare at him suspiciously. He wonders how long it’ll take for you to find out that on the way there he booked every single room except one so you wouldn’t have a choice.
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see also: Gojo + Fake Dating # Toji + Forbidden Love
3K notes · View notes
atlabeth · 3 months
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a rose and her thorns | luke castellan
pairing: luke castellan x fem!daughter of aphrodite reader
summary: luke vies for a valentine. you're just trying to get through cabin inspections.
a/n: take this as my formal apology for the angst i’ve been throwing at you all with demeter girl lol and take this tooth rotting fluff. this was supposed to be shorter but i got carried away, after writing that 11k angst riddled monster this was a much needed palate cleanser lmao
wc: 3.3k
warning(s): no warnings this is all fluff <3
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You huffed as you knocked on the door again, chewing on the inside of your lip as you waited for a response. The Hermes cabin usually always had kids in it—either they were ignoring you, or they were just causing too much ruckus to even hear it in the first place.
Honestly, you should have known this was how cabin inspections with Luke would go. He was probably in there right now, ushering all of them through rapid last-minute tidying in the hopes of something higher than a one. You had half a mind to knock a point off right now by virtue of tardiness.  
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up all of a sudden, and you whirled around. 
“Speak of the devil,” you said wryly. 
You were greeted with Luke Castellan himself, his hands up with a slight smile on his lips. “Easy. I didn’t think I looked that bad.” 
Your brows creased ever so slightly, and he gestured with head. You looked down and realized you were holding your pen like a sword. You cleared your throat and let your arm drop, adjusting your shirt on the way down. 
“Sorry. People tend not to sneak up on me.” 
“I can’t imagine why.” Luke put his hands down and started towards his cabin, craning his head back at you. “What brings you here on this fine day, Rose?” 
“Don’t tell me you forgot,” you pouted, holding up your clipboard and pen as you followed him. “We’re on inspection duty together. Where were you?” 
He snapped and pointed at you. “That’s what we were doing together today! I knew we were spending time together—not like I could forget that—but,” his hand paused on the doorknob, “I kind of forgot about the cabin inspection part. Had to spend a little extra time with one of your siblings at the end of sword-fighting lessons.” 
“Sounds like Liz is getting better, then.” A smug smile pulled at your lips as you stopped next to him. “And it sounds like someone’s gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight,” you said in a sing-song voice. 
You placed your hand over his and opened the door, and Luke groaned. “Take mercy, Rose. Please.” 
It was certainly a sight—more akin to a tornado than the inside of a cabin. Various kids—Hermes, unclaimed, and minor gods alike—ran around, shoving dirty clothes beneath beds, cramming duffles and suitcases into overflowing closets, with a few noble exceptions attempting the Sisyphean task of actually cleaning. 
“Wow,” you said, glancing down at the papyrus scroll. “Can I give you a zero?” 
“Listen,” Luke said from behind you, “our thing isn’t tidiness. It’s thievery—swiftness, cunning, panache.” 
“I thought you were supposed to be jacks of all trades,” you mused as you checked off boxes. “Cleaning is a trade.” 
“Not here.” You could feel him peering over your shoulder and he groaned yet again. “Come on! You’re grading us way too low. I get input too, remember?” 
“Sure,” you remarked. You held out the clipboard and gestured with your head at the natural disaster in front of you. “But you can’t tell me this is anything better than a two.” 
“A two’s better than a one.” Luke plucked the pen out of your hand and scrawled out a number two on the final line. 
“Luke—” you started in protest, but he just snatched the clipboard as well with a wink as he started walking backwards towards the door. 
“We’ve got a chance, guys!” he called out. “Hephaestus has gotta be worse than this!” 
You huffed as you chased after him, shutting the door on your way, and you crossed your arms as you came to a stop in front of him. “This isn’t very cooperative of you.” 
“Gotta give myself a chance,” Luke said, smiling as he took the Hermes sheet off the clipboard and stuffed it into his pocket. 
“That’s just cheating,” you said, and he let you take the clipboard back from him. You started walking, and he fell into pace with you. “Hephaestus is next—we’ll see how much of a chance you have.” 
“We should get some slack because we’ve got double the campers,” Luke said. “Nine’s got no excuse—they’re just a bunch of messy engineers.” 
You tapped your pen against the board. “I’m not changing my mind, Castellan.” 
“Ouch,” he winced. “I got last name’d.” 
You merely smiled and shook your head. You could see his own smile in your peripherals, then he huffed.  
“You’re distracting me from my whole plan with these ridiculous grades,” Luke sighed. “I haven’t ruined everything, have I?”
“You’ve got a plan?” you asked in amusement. 
“Of course I do.” Luke took a few long strides to get in front of you then turned around so he was walking backwards, that stupid smirk still on his lips as he kept eye contact with you. “Valentine’s Day is coming up.” 
“You’re very observant,” you said. “Watch your six.” 
Luke moved a step towards you to avoid a younger camper with their head buried in a book, and you chuckled as he shrugged. 
“It’s a work in progress,” he admitted. 
You hummed, biting back your smile as you came up to the Hephaestus cabin. You were about to knock on the door, but once again, Luke caught your wrist. 
“You’re not even gonna let me say my piece?” he asked. 
“I’ll give you a little time to polish it up,” you said. 
“You assume I don’t have it prepared already?” 
“Oh, I’m sure you do.” You winked. “But I know the effect I have on you.” 
Luke’s fingers loosened on your wrist and you allowed a small, self-satisfied smile as you pulled free and knocked on the door. It took a couple seconds, but eventually the door opened and their counselor—Alya, if you remembered correctly—greeted you with a smile. 
“Just in time,” she said, smudging the bit of grease on her face as she wiped at her cheek. “We’re actually not horrible today.” 
Luke grumbled beneath his breath as you walked in together—usually, the place was a mess of loose parts and hastily sketched out plans and smoke-scented clothes. Today, it was still a mess, but slightly less so. 
“Damn it,” Luke muttered. “Still not as bad as us.” 
“Stop comparing your place to everyone else,” you said. “This is supposed to be fun.” 
“Cabin inspections are fun?” he asked wryly. 
“Hanging out with me is fun,” you clarified. “I—”
You were cut off with a gasp of your own as you slipped, and before you could even fully process it you were falling. It wasn’t until everything steadied that you realized someone had caught you, strong arms cradled you around your waist. You looked up to see Luke’s wide eyes. 
“You good?” he asked, his voice slightly higher than usual. 
“Yeah,” you said, nodding far too many times, “yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” 
“...Good,” he said, ever eloquent. 
A small smile creeped in. “You can let me go now.” 
It almost took him a moment to come back to Earth, because he blinked before he nodded, smiling on his own as he helped you back up. You could feel the heat in your face and tried your best to ignore it as you looked down. A small pool of oil was the culprit—you grimaced at the thought of having to clean that out of your jeans. Thank the gods for Luke. 
“That’s gotta be points off,” Luke whispered in your ear, still close by, and you stifled a laugh. “Oil on the floor, making pretty counselors slip. Right?” 
You ignored him too, looking over at Alya, though you couldn’t stop your smile. She looked mortified. 
“I am so sorry,” she rushed. “I guess Michael didn’t clean as well as he said.” 
“No problem,” you said. “I’ve got a little guardian angel. But this place isn’t too great.” 
“Damn,” she mumbled. “I even got one of your sisters to come in and help clean things up. Do you not smell the perfume?” 
“The smoke kinda overpowers it,” you said sympathetically, and she sighed. “Three out of five, Alya. But you’re right on the edge of a four.” 
Alya glanced at Luke. “Better than Hermes?” 
Luke grimaced. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” 
She smiled and went off to talk to one of her siblings. Luke shook his head and tutted once she was gone. “The double standards here are ridiculous, Rose. I might have to report you to Chiron.” 
“Oh, quiet.” You hit him in the side lightly with the clipboard and continued scanning the room for  a final check. “If you wanted help with cleaning up from an Aphrodite kid, all you had to do was ask.” 
“And would you have accepted?” he asked. 
“Of course,” you said as you scribbled down your last couple of notes. “I’ll always help you, Luke.” 
He went silent as you continued to write, and when you finished you saw he was only looking at you. 
You frowned. “What?” 
“Nothing,” Luke said, still smiling. “Let’s keep going.” 
You stared at him for a moment, but he didn’t say anything else. So you just laughed a bit and shrugged. Luke followed behind you as you walked out, and despite his claims of ‘nothing’ just a moment ago, soon enough he was talking again. 
“So,” he said, “Valentine’s Day.” 
“Valentine’s Day,” you said sagely. “What’s your plan?” 
“Be my Valentine.” 
“That’s your plan?” You glanced over at him. “Just asking me out straight-up?” 
“Oh, sorry. I also have this.” Luke pulled something out of his back pocket and held it out. You couldn’t help but laugh. 
“A rose?” you asked with a lopsided smile. 
“Not just any rose,” he said as you took it. “A chocolate rose.” 
“You are so cute.” You pulled the wrapper off, and though the stem and leaves were plastic, the flower was, indeed, very much chocolate, and in the shape of a rather pretty rose. 
Luke shrugged. “Figured you needed something as sweet as you.” 
“I’ve got a toothache just from being with you,” you remarked. You broke it in half with a bit of effort and offered it to Luke. 
“You can’t just split the gifts I get for you with me.” 
“They’re my gifts,” you said. “I can do whatever I want with them.” 
“Really?” he asked. 
“What’s a rose without her thorns?” you responded. Luke grinned as he took the other half from you. You popped yours into your mouth and your eyebrows rose. 
“This is actually good chocolate,” you said as Luke ate his part. “Not like that crap we get at the camp store.” 
“I might’ve snuck out to the city to get the good stuff,” Luke said offhandedly. 
You looked at him incredulously. “What?” 
“Did I stutter?” 
“You risked all that trouble just to get some chocolate for me?” you marveled. “Hell from Chiron, extra chores for a month, literal monster attacks—” 
Luke held up a hand, stopping your ranting. “Nothing happened. And even if it did,” he shrugged, “you’re worth it. So it doesn’t matter.” 
You shook your head and Luke continued. “Besides, I got some other stuff too for the rest of my plan.” 
“Right,” you nodded, “you never finished telling me.” 
“How’s your schedule?” 
“Busy,” you said. “I’m an Aphrodite kid during Valentine’s season.” 
Luke tipped his shoulder. “Fair. Think you can block something out for me?” 
“That depends what it is,” you said. 
“It’s a secret,” he said. 
You stared at him. “A secret?” 
He nodded. “It might be a foreign concept to you Aphrodite kids, but—” 
You cut him off with a light shove and he only chuckled in response. “So you talk yourself up and it ends up being a secret.”
“I think I’ve earned some secret surprises,” Luke said. “I’m already sweeping you off your feet.” 
You shook your head, smiling inwardly as you tapped your pen against the clipboard. “Is that how you see it?” 
“Well, I did keep you from an untimely death back there,” he said. “And the more unfortunate plight of having to get oil stains out.” 
“You read my mind,” you mused. 
“And isn’t that worth a date?” Luke asked. “Saving you from a fashion faux pas?” 
“You’re worth a date all on your own,” you said as you came up to the next cabin—Apollo was bright as ever, gleaming golden in the sunlight—and you looked at him with a smile. “No rescuing required.” 
-
Your journey to the rest of the cabins went by relatively quickly, especially the Apollo and Ares cabins—you think Luke had been temporarily stunned into silence by you actually flirting back. 
You’d had a subdued smile on your face nearly the entire time, even as you felt warmth bloom over your face again. Luke really brought out the inner Aphrodite in you—you were sure your mother was proud, wherever she was watching. What seemed to get Luke out of his addled state was the 5/5 you gave to your own cabin—he complained that the scent of perfume gave him a headache, and when you said you’d been wearing perfume the entire day, he claimed that it was different. 
(Cabin Ten kept their full score. It was amazing what a pretty smile could do, especially when Luke was the victim.) 
Finally, you were at the Demeter cabin. Luke insisted on going there last, so that all the expectations would be tapered—he was still trying to get a better score for his cabin, but the odds were looking pretty slim. The door was already open, and you smiled at the newly grown flowers outside the cabin. 
“Nice touch.” 
Luke sighed. “Great. Going out with a bang.” 
“It’ll be fine, Luke,” you said. “I’ll help you clean your cabin tonight.” 
He frowned. “You were actually serious?” 
“Of course I was.” You tipped your head. “It’ll just have to be pretty late. Y’know, because you’ll be cleaning all the dishes.” 
“Low blow,” he said, shaking his head. You chuckled as you stopped in the doorway and poked your head in. 
“Hey, Katie,” you called to the counselor. “How’re things?” 
“Good,” she said, nodding. A smile of her own bloomed on her lips as her gaze moved over to Luke. “I see Rose and her thorns are on duty today.” 
“Flattery won’t help you with your score,” Luke mused as he walked into the cabin. You smiled as he held out his hand for the clipboard, and you finally acquiesced. You could feel Katie’s eyes on you as he walked further in. 
“He takes that as a compliment?” 
“Thorns protect a rose,” you said, still watching Luke. He played the part of a foreman well, investigating their shelves and walls with vigor and even opening drawers. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, and Luke looked back and smiled at you. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he winked as he gave you a thumbs-up. 
“And he protects you?” she asked. 
You shrugged. “We protect each other.” 
“…You would be cute together,” Katie admitted. 
You managed to tear your eyes away from Luke, leaning back against the wall. “You think so?” 
“He’s only been vying for your attention and flirting with you since the moment you got to camp,” she said wryly. “But you’re the expert on love—you tell me.” 
You bit your lip as your gaze darted back to Luke, who was squatting on the floor having what looked to be a very serious conversation with a younger Demeter boy. 
“I think I’m his valentine,” you said, almost absentmindedly. “And I think I’m really looking forward to whatever this date is.” 
Katie came back into focus as you came back to Earth, and even she was smiling. “Then I think you’ve got your answer.” 
Luke had picked the most opportune moment to come back, when you weren’t staring at him like an infatuated idiot—you were only one of those things—and he held out the clipboard and pen to you. “After having a very in-depth conversation with Damian about how things are going here, I scored them properly.” 
You chuckled as you took it from him, but your eyebrows rose the more you read. “You’re kidding me.” 
He shook his head. “There’s unpaid labor going on here—unpaid child labor. Damian said he’s responsible for half the cleaning and plants here.” 
“We’re all children. All the labor we do is child labor,” you deadpanned. “And we’re sure as hell not getting paid.” 
Luke held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just delivering what he’s said.” 
“Don’t tell me he gave us all ones,” Katie said dryly. 
“You know him so well,” you mused. You scribbled out half of what Luke wrote as you stood up from the wall, shielding it with your body so he couldn’t see while you walked out together. “See you, Katie!” 
Her protests fell on Luke’s deaf ears as he held up the rear, shutting the door behind you two, and when you looked back at him he was grinning. 
“Straight ones,” he tutted, shaking his head. “What a shame. Looks like they’re gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight.” 
“You know they got a five, Luke,” you said, finally allowing him to see your revised marks. “If you’re gonna fudge the numbers, at least try and make them believable.” 
“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed. “A five is way too nice—it’s not fair that they can just grow plants all over and make everything look presentable. Using powers should count as cheating.” 
“Their floors are clean, their beds are made, and it smells like floral heaven,” you said. You tapped his chest with your pen. “You could learn something from them, Castellan.” 
He caught your wrist before you could move it away. “The Aphrodite cabin always gets perfect scores. Think you could teach me a few things?” 
You grinned as you pulled your hand out of his grip and continued walking, this time en route to the Big House to drop off the final inspections. “That depends.” 
“On what?” Luke came back into your peripherals as he caught up to you. 
“On how good this secret plan of yours is,” you mused. 
His eyes lit up, past worries of low inspection scores seemingly fading away in an instant. “So it’s a go? You’re in?” 
“Of course I am,” you said, tucking the clipboard under your arm. “You got me the good chocolate, Luke. How could I not see where this goes?” 
Previously unnoticed pressure dissolved in his shoulders as he took your hands in his. You could only focus on his eyes, on the warmth of his skin, on the callouses borne from years of sword-fighting. 
He was surely blessed by your mother. 
“You’re not gonna regret it,” Luke vowed. “All those promises I’ve made about blowing you off your feet, about making your mother proud—they’re all gonna be true.” 
“You know what wise men say,” you said wryly. 
“That they’re so glad you’re finally giving me a chance?” 
“Only fools rush in,” you provided. “Going all in on our first date seems a little hasty.” 
“Isn’t your whole thing supposed to be rushing in?” he asked cloyingly. “Y’know, daughter of love and all.” 
You shrugged. “Maybe I like taking the idea of taking it slow with you.” 
“Then call me a fool,” Luke mused, letting go of one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His own curls hung over his eyes and you had the strongest urge to take his face in your hands. “Because you should know I can’t help it.” 
You felt your cheeks heat as warmth spread all over, and you couldn’t even try to hide your smile. “You think you can take me out on one of those city trips of yours? Show me how to steal a camp van without getting in the most trouble?” 
“I’m trying to steal your heart here,” Luke said with a goofy grin, “but I think a van’ll do.” 
“Oh, don’t worry.” You took his hand back, intertwining your fingers together as you pulled him closer to you. “We can multitask.” 
2K notes · View notes
venusiansilk · 1 month
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‎‎ ꒰ you ask satoru for a favor without greeting him first. ꒱
ᴍᴅɴɪ. no gendered terms. canon au. fluff. est rel. 0.7k. sfw.
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although satoru's always known you’re a stubborn brat, he absolutely loathes when you don’t greet him but meet him with requests and gentle demands. “baby, i need a favor.” you spout as soon as you gain proximity to him in the courtyard. you haven’t even made it all the way to him before you’re blurting it out at him and he looks at you as if you’ve repulsed him. “try again.” he tells you sternly. grinning at his response, you quickly adjust your demeanor and give him the twinkling eyes you know he’s weak to. “hi, my toru.” “better. hi, my baby.” satoru leans down to press a gentle kiss to your nose. “what’s the favor?” “my student has a crush on megumi and they’re not quite ready to act on it yet, but i want them to at least be able to talk to him, you know? maybe exchange numbers with him? and…well…you lived with him? and he’s your student?” his brow quirks in surprise. “that’s…not what i was expecting. well, what do they even see in him?” “maybe it’s the dead stare.” you reason with a shrug.
“yuuji or even toge i could almost understand, but megumi is…so aloof.” satoru muses. he shakes the thought away after a moment. “which of your students wants a shot with my prickly pear?” “sato akira. she’s a bit on the shyer side, but i really want to see her blossom this year, so please help me. please, please, please.” satoru scoffs, appalled you’d ask him for a thing without a reasonable offer to exchange. “and just what do i get out of it? you being pretty isn’t gonna cut it this time, sweetheart.”  “desserts on me.” an easy counter. humming, he contemplates before gently shaking his head. “i can get my own desserts. you’ll have to do better than that.” “no, no,” your soft chuckle coupled with an amused smile. “desserts on me,” not a drop of hesitation remaining, satoru nods viciously and chirps, “okay, i’ll help! whatever my baby needs.” “thank you, i missed you.” your hands slide into both of his. “did you miss me?” you ask it cutely, swaying your arms as you tug him closer to you with a satisfied and flirty smile, always cheeky in how you choose to adore him but it's always a moment of sweetness satoru indulges in greedily. he kisses you three times in a row. “you know i did. missed you every second you were gone, but i wish you would have started with that, you little brat.” “sorry,” your sheepish voice sweeps into a devout promise and an ardent declaration. “i won’t do it again, baby. i was just excited. i love you.” “love you,” he tugs your hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “you busy anymore? can i have you for the day?” a nod. “i do need to do some grading, but i can do it next to you, i suppose. also, you know you don’t have to ask. all my free time is yours.” “arguably the hottest thing i’ve heard today.” mumbled as he kisses your knuckles tenderly. “can you go to the store with me? i wanna pick my sweet treats to eat off your delectable body and i have to replace the strawberries i ate.” “you need to stop eating my fruit without asking when you come over.” you chastise him, a gentle fist against his chest. “irrelevant,” he pouts, pulling you into his torso, long arms weaving around your frame. “you coming with me, baby?” “we need to make a list beforehand. you know i can’t do a grocery store free-for-all with you. we’ll be there for hours. and i already told you my free time is yours so don’t be needy.” you smile adoringly as you say it and satoru can’t help the way he mirrors it. a part of him never thought he’d see the day he was finally able to make it work with another person and dance to the same tune. the strongest is so used to being the loneliest, but the love nestled between you both feels unwavering and indissoluble to him. satoru grumbles under his breath, “i’ll be what i want. you’re mine.”
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© 2024 venusiansilk. all rights reserved.
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ohwowimlonley · 5 months
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peter just coming over to your place to fuck you rough then cuddle w you while he asks about your day lol
Peter loving backshots w you bc of the way reader ass moves lol- idk something tells me he’s an ass man ( especially tasm! Peter )
Double P having you on top and putting you in a bear hug as he thrusts
-
“Well, if Mr Stevens can’t see that you’re acing this photography, then he really shouldnt be teaching at all,” you’d say, raking your nails through his thick hair. He nudges closer to you, cheek resting against your breasts as he tracks his right hand lazily over your naked body.
“I know, I know, just wish I could get a passing grade for once,” he laments, fingers eventually dropping in between your legs, sliding through the wetness of both our your releases.
-
“God, baby, fuckin’ look at it,” it’s a whine, or Peter’s closest approximation to it. He takes your asscheeks in both his hands, pulling them apart, pushing them back together, squeezing, slapping, digging his nails in, “gonna fuck it one day, you won’t be able to walk for a week,”
“Ahh,” you sob, arching your back as he shocks you with the harshest spank yet. You’re sure your ass is red raw by now, but it doesn’t stop Peter from pulling your cheeks apart again and landing a fat glob of spit directly onto your unused hole.
-
“Right there- Peter!” It’s almost a scream, but it’s really not your fault because Peter has his arms wrapped firmly around your back, fingers stretching to the space in between your shoulder blades and using it as leverage to fuck up into you at the perfect angle, right into that soft spongy spot deep inside you that makes you dribble onto his shoulder, “oh, God!”
“Shh, sweetness, it’s okay,” he murmurs into your hair, smirking as you cry out when his pubic hair graze against your engoreged clit, “I’m right here,”
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just-jordie-things · 7 months
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crushing - takuma ino
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word count: 3k warnings: i think none summary: ino's not great at making moves and you're not great at picking up on them. either way, you're undeniably crushing on each other. a/n: this is my first ino fic! i don't usually post something immediately after finishing it but i really wanted feedback on this one before i wrote bigger n better fics for him :3 ___
Takuma Ino was not a desperate man.
At least he hoped he didn’t come off that way whenever he crossed paths with (y/l/n) (y/n).  He really hoped he didn’t.  Because every day he spent at Jujutsu Tech, he went out of his way to ‘accidentally’ bump into her as many times as possible.  
His personal best was twenty-five.  That day he’d stayed well past sunset to finish the paperwork he’d neglected, but he still stands by his choices.
Nanami claimed that if he had a crush on the young manager, then he should just ask her out already, but Ino didn’t think it was that easy.  Not because he was  nervous- of course not! He just wanted to be certain that she would agree to go out with him before making a move.  That wasn’t a ridiculous notion, was it? 
It wasn’t ridiculous.  It just meant things moved… slowly.
“Ino, hey,” 
(y/n’s) drawn out of her conversation with Maki when she sees the Grade Two Sorcerer approaching in the hall.  There’s a soft smile of familiarity on her face, unlike the student beside her who rolled her eyes and slumped against the wall, knowing that it would take twice as long to have her paperwork looked over.  This wasn’t the first time Maki had witnessed the perfect distraction that was Takuma Ino.  It was already the fourth time this week, and just like every other time, (y/n) fell for it right away.
Just as he approaches the both of them, a look of confusion flashes across (y/n’s) face, and she tucks the forgotten paperwork against her chest as she tilts her head at him.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to Yokohama? I thought you were assigned to that Grade One curse with the whole…” She pauses as she makes an indefinite shape with her hands, “Explosive thing?” 
“I’m about to head out for it now, but, you know,” He shrugs his shoulders, a smile forming on his face the longer he looks at her.
The first time he’d laid eyes on her he’d done a cartoonish double take, which unfortunately Nanami bore witness to.  She’d been walking and chatting animatedly with Ijichi- who seemed less passionate about the conversation but was an attentive listener nonetheless- and every time he’d seen her since, Ino felt the same lurch in his heart that was the desire to linger near her just a little longer.
Before he could finish his thought, Maki was speaking up first.
“You just wanted to show up late?” She asked dryly, her expression anything but amused by the sight of young love.
“I’m not late,” He chuckles nervously, shaking his head.  “I just wanted to stop by my good luck charm before I left” He claims with a little more confidence before he grins at (y/n).
She laughs at the comment, and Maki can’t help but roll her eyes just a little bit.  Typical.  Surely she’d swoon over the flirty comment and then drop it completely, just like she always did.
“Yeah yeah,” She mused, just like Maki expected.  “Go, don’t get yourself in trouble again.  I don’t think Nanami will keep vouching for you” 
“Sure he will,” Ino waves a dismissive hand, but judging from the way he’s already turning away and breaking into a jog, (y/n) and Maki can see through the nonchalant act.  “But it’ll be quick! I’ll have the shortest report ever for you!” He hollers from down the hall.
(y/n’s) still chuckling once he’s out of sight.  Maki huffs in aggravation.
“I can’t believe you lead that guy on.  You’re gonna have to let him down easy if you don’t want him to have a stroke”
“What?” (y/n) shakes her head at the student’s accusation.  “I don’t lead him on, we just get along” 
“You lead him on” Maki deadpans.  (y/n) holds her paperwork a little tighter against herself, and the defensive action doesn’t go unnoticed.
“This isn’t appropriate, I won’t allow for this to be a silly rumor of some s-” 
“Gojo Sensei says that he’ll never make a move unless you do it first” Maki shrugs.
All professionalism flies out the window in an instant as (y/n’s) face goes blank, her eyes blinking wide as she stares back at the student in utter disbelief.
“He did?” She mumbles.  
Maki nods in confirmation.
(y/n) glances around herself to ensure their conversation would be a private one, before shuffling forward and lowering her voice.
“Well… what else did he say?” ___
To say that (y/n) had a bit of a crush on the Auspicious Beast Summoner would be an understatement.  From the day he’d fallen in front of her- literally, he fell down half a flight of stairs and she’d rushed to make sure he was alright- there was something exciting about him.  He was so kind, and funny, and he so obviously went out of his way to talk to her that she slowly found her heart fluttering more and more whenever he was around.
All this time she’d thought he was just friendly, and was eager to have a companion at Jujutsu Tech that was his age.  Why else would he spend so much time around a manager when there are much cooler, much stronger people around? It was no secret what he thought of Nanami, and while (y/n) was proud of her work, she simply couldn’t compete with the skill of a sorcerer.
Usually she wasn’t one to listen to rumors, especially from a source like Gojo Satoru.  He may have been a friend-of-sorts to her, but that didn’t mean (y/n) trusted him for a second.  Gojo was a good guy, but he was the kind of guy to stir the pot when he was bored, and playing matchmaker was just a game to him.  So despite everything Maki had told her, she didn’t necessarily believe it.  She was just curious, that’s all.
And the only reason she was headed off to Ino’s office after being notified he’d returned from his mission was just to address the rumors, that’s all.  She was doing him a favor by letting him know what the other sorcerers were gossiping about.  There couldn’t possibly be an ulterior motive laced in there as well.
His door is open when she reaches the small workspace, but he doesn’t seem to notice when she appears there, leaning into the door frame while she takes in the crude office.  
Calling it an office didn’t even feel correct.  There was a desk and a computer, and a semi-comfortable looking rolling chair that Ino was sitting in.  He hadn’t realized there was a visitor at the door seeing as he had his head hanging over the back of it, his mask pulled down and his hands pressed into his face.  (y/n) had to bite back the chuckle that threatened to come out of her, assuming there was more to report in his paperwork than he’d assumed and was now overwhelmed by it.
With a soft tap of her knuckles on the doorframe, (y/n) makes her presence known.
“Need some help?” 
Ino jolts up so suddenly his chair is sent backwards, rolling away from the desk and tipping out of balance too, but he’s quick to steady himself, staring at her sudden figure at his door with wide eyes.  It’s the only part of his expression she can make out, seeing as he’s still got his mask pulled over his face.
“(y/n)!” He greets her louder than he intended, but he had yet to shake off his surprise in seeing her.  A fond smile tilts the corners of her mouth, unable to be helped as she watches him awkwardly scramble in his seat.  “How long have you been standing there?” 
“Long enough to consider leaving if you were crying under there” She teases, finally stepping foot into the room.  Her eyes wander the bare gray walls, a slight frown taking over at how empty the whole space feels.
“No, I’m not-” Before he continues, Ino’s quick to yank his mask off his face, pulling it off his head completely and dropping it on his desk.  “What brings you here?” He changes the subject completely, his eyes never leaving her figure as she wanders around the room as if looking for something.
He realizes then that she’s never seen his office- not that there was much to see, as she was coming to find- but nonetheless it’s odd that she’s the one approaching him for once.  It was always Ino searching around the halls of Jujutsu Tech for her, not the other way around.
“So empty,” (y/n) comments quietly, and he’s not sure if she was talking to herself or him.  “You don’t like to decorate?” She asks, this time turning to him.
“I’m not in here very much,” He admits, a sheepish smile on his face.  “I take most of my paperwork home.  If I’m here I’m not usually in the office” 
“Yeah,” (y/n) smiles softly, ducking her head to hide the way her face warms up.  “That’s cause you’re usually trying to bother me” 
She doesn’t see it, but Ino’s face lights up.  He bears a wide grin and his eyes gleam with excitement.  She was acting quite out of character today.  Usually he was the one teasing her.  This was a real treat.
“Bother?” He repeats, standing up from his chair and rounding his desk to lean against it, completely ignoring the half-written report on his computer that he hadn’t hit save on in a while.  “I don’t seem to remember ever bothering you” 
She rolls her eyes, finally looking up at him, and Ino thinks he could combust from excitement.  She’s blushing, which he’s not sure he’s ever seen before, and he can tell she’s fighting back a bigger smile behind the small one she shows him.
“Well what would you call it then?” She asks, still struggling to bite back a grin that mirrors his.  So much joy poured out of him it was difficult to fight the way it took her by the soul and forced her to feel nothing but warmth and butterflies.
“Obviously I was romancing you,” Ino replies without missing a beat, surprising even himself with the blunt truth.  Besides the way her eyes round into saucers, (y/n) doesn’t really react to the statement.  “Not my fault you’re a hard person to flirt with sometimes” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, and then tucks his hands into his pockets.
(y/n) blinks a few times, staring him down like she was suddenly an expert in body language.
“I am?” She asks, a small laugh escaping her at the suggestion.  “Because maybe I didn’t know you were flirting” She says with a shrug of her own.
Ino gapes back at her, unable to keep up with the chill facade when she says something so ridiculous.
“What do you mean you didn’t know?” He asks, and she laughs again, finally losing the battle to the grin on her face.  “Was I not obvious enough? You know that even Gojo was trying to get me to-” 
“Yeah, I know,” (y/n) says quietly, but it’s effective in getting him to shut up.  “One of his students might’ve told me some rumors they heard from him” She explains.
“What!?” Embarrassment floods his features.  “Who? I want names-” 
“Can’t, teacher-student confidentiality and all” She teases.  
She’s learning it was quite fun to not be on the receiving end of the playful banter.  In the past it was always Ino with the perfect quip or joke to have her flustered for the rest of the day, even if she wouldn’t show it.  Knowing he was actually incredibly easy to mess with felt like knowing his weakness.
“You’re not a teacher” He deadpans.  She laughs again.
“Well, I actually came to let you know that certain sorcerers here were spreading rumors to slander your good name,” She tells him matter of factly.  “But it appears those rumors are actually true, so they’re not really rumors, huh?” 
Ino rolls his eyes, but it’s in no way directed at her.  He makes a mental note to bring this up to Nanami to add to the very long list of grievances caused by Gojo Satoru.
(y/n) steps close to him, linking her fingers together behind her back as she finds the courage to hold eye contact with him.
“Why didn’t you just ask me out?” She asks.
He hates that she tilts her head to the side just so.  She did it on occasion when she was confused about something, and Ino’s sure that she’s not even aware that she had that tendency, but every time she did it he was so overwhelmed by the urge to kiss her that most of the time he had to completely walk away from her.
But they’re in his office, having a conversation he really didn’t want to walk away from.  If he ran now, there would be no coming back from it, and his intrigue in how she felt about him outweighed the aggravation she caused him when she looked that pretty.
He’s staring at her without saying anything, and he knows it’s been a few seconds too long to be comfortable, but it’s hard to care.  She’s close enough to him that he can smell her perfume and see how every strand of hair falls over left shoulder and he can’t help but take in every pretty sight of her.
He once swore he wasn’t a desperate man, hence his patience in waiting while he tried to figure out how she felt before he made a move, but standing here now, what’s one promise in the grand scheme of life? 
So he leans forward off his desk a bit, desperation getting the best of him.
“Would you have agreed?” 
She raises her chin, the apples of her cheeks getting rosy in color despite her trying to play it cool.
“I asked you first” 
“I asked you second” 
That had her bursting out in laughter, hands falling to her hips.
“Oh, real mature!” She says through a fit of bubbly giggles.
It’s cute.  It was so cute in fact, Ino just couldn’t take it anymore.  The fun banter he’d tried to establish had now warped into his own personal hell.
And hell didn’t even have any boring office decorations, no succulents, no photo frames, not even a calendar.
“Just answer the question,” He says, and it comes out as more of a plea than he means for it to, but he doesn’t bother trying to compensate for it, or taking it back.  “Would you have agreed to go out with me?” 
He has a hopeful look in his eye that only seems to gleam more with every second that passes without her response.  (y/n) softens, the warmth in her chest spreading throughout her entire body and making her melt like putty.  It was almost pathetic, how quickly this little crush she’d harbored for the sorcerer had grown into something more genuine than she’s ever felt for anyone before.
“Yeah,” She answers simply, quietly, barely nodding her head along with her confirmation.  “Yeah, I would have” 
The smile he wears is so sweet and pure that she’s mirroring it in a heartbeat.
“Okay,” He thinks he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t hurry this up, so he rushes the next string of words out so fast (y/n’s) lucky she managed to understand him.  “You wanna go out then? Tonight? For drinks? And then maybe dinner?” 
She’s laughing as she nods, her hands nervously fiddling together.
“Okay,” She repeats, rocking back and forth on her feet just once.  “But you should finish your report first.  So, call me when you’re done?” 
He wants to protest, but he knows she’s right.  So as he hands her his phone to add herself as a contact, Ino mentally starts going through what he has to finish so he could get through it as quickly as possible.
She’s still grinning when she hands him his phone back, already eager for the day to be over.
“I’ll be quick, promise” He beams back at her as she makes her way out of his office.
“You pick where we go for drinks, and I’ll pick where we go for dinner,” She decides, lingering at the doorway for just a moment longer.  “Sound good?” 
“Sounds perfect” He’s back in his chair and clicking away at his keyboard as he writes nonsense into his report.  
(y/n’s) gone with a little wave and a blush that only burns brighter the further away she gets.  She just hopes she doesn’t run into anyone in the meantime.
Ino tries to work on his report after adding some meaningless fluff of things that didn’t really happen, and weren’t really necessary for the report.  He really does try.
For five whole minutes.
But then he can’t help but open his phone to check on the contact (y/n) had just made for himself, and seeing the little orange heart emoji she’d added next to her name has him swooning way too hard- over an emoji, at least.  But that’s what she reduced him to, mush.
(y/n’s) just reached the front steps of Jujutsu Tech when her phone starts blaring her ringtone in her pocket.  She makes a face at the unknown number calling her, but it’s washed away as soon as she picks it up.
“Would you believe me if I said I finished already?” Ino’s speaking right away, without so much as a greeting.  
She giggles into the receiver, because no, no she doesn’t.
“That’s quite impressive work” She praises.
“I think you’ll come to find I’m quite an impressive guy!” He responds, and then quickly follows it with, “Not in, like, a douchebag way though!” 
She fights the urge to laugh any harder, not wanting to put him through any more embarrassment than he’s already suffered today.  They still have an entire evening ahead of them, after all.
“Of course not,” She murmurs softly.  “Meet me at the front steps, then? We can go into town together” 
And when Ino’s there in under a minute, trying desperately not to show how out of breath he is, she doesn’t tease him for it.  Not until later in the night after a few drinks in, anyways.
___
xoxo ~ jordie
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luveline · 3 months
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hiii jadey <3 i’ve been having a bit of a rough time in college lately and i was wondering if you’d be willing to write some bombshell!reader where spencer talks about being bullied in high school and maybe bombshell can relate? even if not, just a lot of comfort please? i hope you’re doing well!! <333
ty for ur request!!! fem
It’s a blessing and a curse whenever you come around. Spencer’s thinking he hadn’t seen you in a while when your text lights up his screen, a summoning if there ever was one. 
Hi Spencer, I need some help with my laptop. It turns out for about ten seconds and then turns off again. Do you think you can fix it?
He has no idea. Probably. Do you want me to come by SCU? 
No need
“Spencer!” you say, practically glowing as you drop your messenger bag on his already crowded desk. “Sorry, that’s so heavy.”
“You’re here,” he says, surprised. 
You lean down to hug him in his chair. Spencer can’t ignore that he likes every part of you, your arms as they wrap around his shoulders, the perfume on your neck as you touch your cheek to his, even the soft exhale of your breath by his ear. “Hi, Dr. Reid,” you say gently. “Missed you. So happy my laptop isn’t working ‘cos now I get to see you.” 
You pull away with a grin. Your lips are a shade of pink that Spencer won’t soon forget.
“That was fast.” 
“So fast,” you say. “You know I love an excuse to see you and to not be at work.” 
You work very hard, but you’re like anyone. Stealing time is fun and free. “You’re not gonna get in trouble, right?” 
“With who? Hotch doesn’t care if I’m here and Sandy,” —you full body shiver at the mention of your boss— “won’t notice I’m gone for another hour. Besides, I can’t have a broken laptop. They’re pretty cool, right?”
“Laptops?” 
“Yeah, I like them. I just need the WiFi to work everywhere.” You squint at him. “Is that something you can do?” 
Spencer cannot make the WiFi work everywhere you go, but he can soft reset your laptop after a short investigation of the problem. It takes about five minutes, in which you steal Morgan’s chair and get comfortable next to him, legs crossed, hand resting open on your thigh. “You’re so smart. I bet you were very popular in high school.” 
He laughs, startled, a horrible sinking feeling moving through his chest. “What? Why would you think that?”
“‘Cos you’re a genius at everything, right? I bet you were always helping people with their homework.” 
His lips last. He doesn’t know what to say. “I don’t think I talked to anyone in high school who didn’t want to hang me at the top of a flag pole,” he says honestly. 
Your lovely smile falls flat. “What?” 
“I skipped a couple of grades, so I was younger than everybody, and I wasn’t well liked. I was actually bullied pretty badly.” He laughs again with that same brittle panic. He’s talking without thinking, it just spilled out, it’s spilling still, “I used to get beat up for breathing wrong.” 
You’re quiet. Spencer panics worse because why has he told you that? You’re so sweet to him but that doesn’t mean you wanted to know about his worst moments, he can practically feel the affection you had for him melting away as you realise he’s a loser, he’s pathetic–
“I was bullied too,” you say, giving him a tentative smile. “All the way through high school and a little bit after that, too. Maybe that’s why we get along so well, huh?” 
He looks at his hands. “You were?” 
“Yep.” He can hear the strain of wanting to sound normal. “I mean, I didn’t get beat up, Spencer, that’s awful and I’m– I’m so sorry.”
You’re the last person he’d ever want an apology from, because you’re one of the only people he’s ever met who likes him as he is. You could never make him hurt the way he did back then. High school was years ago and it lingers like it happened yesterday. “I can still remember the stuff they used to say to me,” he says. 
“I got made fun of for so much stuff,” you agree. “Boys I didn’t even know would berate me in the halls for just being there. I got called ugly so much I genuinely believed I was for years.” 
“You’re not ugly,” he says immediately. 
“I know.” 
He nods thoughtfully. “It’s hard trying to forget about it. I think if people knew how much I carry with me from then they’d tell me to let it go, but I can’t.” 
“You don’t have to let it go, Spence, so long as you know it’s not your fault it happened.” 
You offer your hand. Spencer stares at it. You wiggle your fingers and he thinks, Oh, grasping it quickly, before you change your mind. Your fingers slide between his and you rub the back of his hand with your thumb, smiling approvingly, eyes crinkled with pleasure. 
“They don’t know what they missed,” you say, a hint of shyness in your voice that’s swiftly covered by your usual confident drawling, “they had unfiltered and unadulterated access to the Spencer Reid, n’ I have to pretend my laptops broken just to see you. So crazy.” 
You give his hand a good squeeze.
“It was sort of broken,” he says as you take your hand back. He’s sure his brain is broken too. 
“Nah, it always does that. I just give it a love tap and it fixes it again.” 
“A what?” He laughs so loudly it turns heads. His crush on you turns to full blown infatuation.
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heeliopheelia · 7 months
Text
BAD IDEA RIGHT? (p. sunghoon)
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
includes: toxic relationship, implied cheating, dry humping, degrading, spanking, swearing, spitting in mouth, pet names, choking, manhandling, unprotected sex, hair pulling, bratty reader, dumbification, fingers sucking, oral (m receiving)
word count: 2.6k
synopsis: 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘺
guts event masterlist ⋆♱✮♱⋆ main masterlist
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u up?
from: why isn't he blocked yet?
- read 2:31 am
Sighing for the fourth time this past minute, you click your phone screen off and toss the device to the other side of your bed. The contemplating is pointless – the both of you know that you'll be at his door within the next twenty minutes.
Was breaking up with Sunghoon a smart decision? Yes. Just one look back at your relationship makes you feel sick right now. The constant partying, the never subsiding jealousy, the permanent uncertainty whether you're gonna find a girl in his bed sheets each time he didn't answer his phone for more than two hours. If Park Sunghoon's toxicity could be graded – it would be 3. Severe significant but not immediately life-threatening.
So, including all of these facts, was becoming his fuck buddy a logical step? Well, sex is never about logicality anyways, right? It's his personality and cockiness that you dropped without any hesitation – his bedroom skills on the other hand... Yeah, it was not so easy to give up. There isn't a bone in your body that's able to resist this temptation.
see u in 10
As your fingers quickly type the reply to his text, you blindly snatch your car keys from the cupboard and head out the front door, exposing your half-naked skin to the cool autumn air. You didn't bother dressing in anything else besides this ridiculously oversized t-shirt you always sleep in, knowing well that the second your foot meets the threshold of his messy dorm, all of your clothes will be gone before you even get the chance to say hi.
And that's exactly what happens. You text him a quick i'm here. He opens the door and with a lopsided smile pulls you into a rough kiss. You shut the door behind you two with your foot. He pushes you against them and tugs the hem of your shirt up, only to toss it somewhere on the floor.
"Wow, you came here quick. Must be a new record or somethin'," he teases breathily into your lips, working his teeth down your jawline to your neck. "Someone must've missed me a lot, huh?"
"Shut up and just get to it," you mutter with a roll of your eyes as your hands greedily roam over his bare chest. "You always talk too much."
Sunghoon only chuckles, the sound vibrates through his chest as he closes the gap between you two and kisses you hard on the lips again. It's almost automatic, how he taps the back of your thighs, the way you jump, the way he catches you before smacking a stinging slap on your ass, he carries you and sits the both of you on his well worn couch.
"Well, you know what to do now, don't you, baby girl?" He grins widely, legs fixing into a man spread as he looks at you pointedly.
With a roll of your eyes, you place your hands on his toned shoulders and push your body forward until your chest is pressed to his.
"Stop. Talking."
Before his big mouth gets the chance to yap again, you roll your hips against his growing bulge, effectively shutting him up. He leans his head backwards, resting it on the headrest as he watches you with a cocky smile. He crosses his arms behind his head, making his muscles flex prominently. You scoff at his obnoxiousness although the throbbing between your thighs increases annoyingly.
You move your hips steadily, quickly finding the right rhythm. Sunghoon groans and lowers one of his hands to your hip, spreading his big palm on your hot skin. The rough feeling of your lacy panties rubbing onto your clit makes you bite your lip to stifle a moan.
You lean forward and pull his face to yours with a firm grip on the hair at the back of his head. The kiss is all spit and teeth – just as messy as your relationship, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
Lips swollen and flushed faced, you circle your hips faster, rubbing yourself against him. It doesn't take much longer until his gray sweatpants are messed up with the dark stain of precum and you smirk at the sight of the prominent tent in his pants.
"Are you gonna cum? So soon? Looks like you must've missed me even more," you tease while nibbling on his bottom lip.
You watch him raise his eyebrow at your cheeky behavior and then he clicks his tongue. "Nah, that's enough. Don't know where'd you get this idea that you can speak to me like that. Thought you'd know better by now."
With one firm movement, he grabs your face in between his fingers and squishes your cheeks together, not even a bit of tenderness in his touch. You fail to keep your moan inside this time.
"Open up," he orders and taps at your puckered lips with his thumb. You obey without a second thought in your mind and part your smushed mouth as wide as you can. Sunghoon pulls your chin down roughly and spits right on your tongue. The act is so lewd, so fucking hot, it makes you subconsciously roll your hips over his clothed bulge and whimper at the commotion. Sunghoon scoffs at your drastically changed demeanor. "Filthy fucking whore. Couldn't ever dominate me properly for the life of you."
And then he flips you around. His strong hand pushes your chest flush to the couch, pressing on the arch of your back as your face gets shoved in the same cushions that you bought him once you had first started dating. To make this rusty place look actually inhabited, you told him then. Now, you drown in their scent as they nearly cut off your breathing supplies.
You can hear some ruffles coming from behind you which you can only assume is the sound of Sunghoon's sweats hitting the floor before his tall frame hovers over your back. A yelp leaves your lips as his hand suddenly comes forward and slaps your ass with a loud smack. His fingers skid over the black lace of your panties before pushing them to the side and dipping two of his digits between your weeping folds.
"Would you look at that? You're fucking dripping for me, baby. Some things never change, huh?" He teases ruthlessly but before you can bite back, your breath gets stolen away as you feel his hot, hard tip brushing past your entrance. You moan loudly, fingers clenching on the cushion tightly as he wraps an arm under your stomach and props your ass higher, only to bully his cock into you until he bottoms out. "Now, let the show begin."
A shiver runs down your spine when he pulls out of you completely before plummeting his length back into you again. It burns slightly and Sunghoon knows that, but with the lewd moans you're letting out he thinks that, surely, you must be a little bit masochistic.
He pushes you even deeper into the couch and relishes in the wheezed gasps of breath you're huffing out as he fucks into you. His hips work quick and sharp, snapping into you from behind and making your clammy skin clap with each contact. He fits just so damn perfectly in between your folds as they clamp around him so deliciously, making him let out grunt after grunt.
"H-harder, Sunghoon."
Your whine comes out muffled and even though your ex could hear you loud and clear, he purposefully slows his movements down and leans over to you closer, making his dick bury itself even deeper inside you and causing your eyes to roll back momentarily.
"What was that, princess? Didn't quite catch that."
You can practically hear the smirk that's surely plastered on his lips but you're too swallowed up in the pleasure to let it rub on your dignity anyhow. You only throw your hips backwards and whine louder for him, fueling up his already too big ego. "Fuck me harder. Please."
"Ah," Sunghoon lets out a short chuckle, then pulls away from you again. "Well, because you asked so nicely..."
Your eyes roll back again from how well he's fucking you, your words now meddled all together as he pounds you into the mattress. Without the slightest effort, he hits that gushy spot inside of you over and over again, just like he's done dozens times before, and still making you writhe in his grip like a prude. One that you, most definitely, are not.
Your teeth sink into the cushion as you try and muffle your borderline pornographic moans, in attempt to spare his neighbours the same shit show that have to endure every week. With the feeling of his large frame hovering above you, bare bodies hitting each other with every of his thrusts, you find yourself coming even sooner than you expected.
You moan and whine and jolt in his arms from where he still has you pressed down.
"That's it, baby. Fuck, just like that," he pants, hands sprawled on your ass and caressing the soft flesh before he spreads your cheeks a little further apart, watching his cock disappear in between your throbbing walls. Sunghoon groans. "Fuuuuck, look at you. Such perfect pussy. My perfect girl. No one will ever fuck you as well as I do."
Clenching your fists on the cushions, you pant as well. "Shut the fuck up. I'm not yours. We broke up for a reason, asshole," you scoff. "Thought you'd remember such unforgettable afternoon."
Sunghoon barks a laugh from above you before twisting your hair around his palm and tugging your head up until your back is pressed flat to his chest.
"Still so snarky even after I just blew your brains out. Guess I'll just have to fuck this attitude outta you once again. Gonna make sure you can't walk tomorrow, yeah?"
You don't even have it in you to bite back as he instantly starts pistoning into you, deep and rough, without waiting for your first high to cool off even slightly.
"A-ah, Hoon, w-wait," you mewl, growing on your pitch, clawing at his arm that's wrapped around your waist and prevents you from moving away. You clench your eyes tightly. "Too fast! Slow down."
He huffs, tugging your hair even harder to bite at your jawline as you arch your neck. "Nah, I don't think so. You're gonna stay still and take what I give you."
His hips are unforgiving. Your brain turns off as he plummets into you, only thing you're capable of doing is letting out a small ah, yes or please every couple seconds.
Nothing but white noise is surrounding you now. His heavy and so fucking full cock splits you in half and makes you, quite literally, see stars. You let him manhandle you like some rag doll, taking every inch of his dripping length.
"Cat's got your tongue now, little girl?" Sunghoon teases, leaving a slap on your ass again. He chuckles. "You're squeezing me like some fucking virgin."
Your thighs are a mess of his precum and your slick release. You know you're about to cum again, it's inevitable with the way he's fucking into you. Absentmindedly, one of your hands loosen its grip on his arm and slides down to your aching pussy to try and relieve the pent up tension a little quicker. But before your fingers ever make contact with your swollen clit, you feel a sharp sting on your palm as Sunghoon slaps it away.
"We ain't playing like that, sweets," he scowls as he untangles his hand from your hair and lets you drop limp on the couch again.
It's insane how his body still reacts to you, even after seeing you in the exact same position so many times before. He can barely keep himself from cumming inside you here and there as he watches you squirm beneath him, fingers curling and gripping on first better object as you moan and cry out his name like a mantra.
He doesn't let you rest for much longer though. He leans forward, strong, veiny arms gripping your wrists before pulling them back towards him and lifting you up again. That position only enables you to feel him even better, closer and deeper, and with one, two, three more thrusts of his hips you're coming again with a moan that sounds very much like a sob on your lips.
Sunghoon grunts in your ear and bites his lip harshly. He's always been weak for you. Never was able to keep his hands away from you. So as all of his senses are overwhelmed, overstimulated with you and you only, he grabs you by your waist and flips you on your back quickly.
He finally gets to look at your fucked out face. Your teary eyes and flushed cheeks make him curse under his breath as his dick throbs even harder. With a strangled groan he pulls on your chin and opens your mouth widely. He watches with amazement as you eagerly capture his long fingers with your lips and suck them without giving it much thought.
"Fuck, wait–," he lets out a long moan, quickly pulling his digits out of your swollen mouth. "Open up a little wider, baby."
And you do so, mind hazy as he hovers above you and slowly pushes his thick cock between your parted lips. Your eyes roll into your skull as he throat fucks you without giving you as much as a warning, hand pressing on the front of your neck and making you gag around him instantly.
"Shh, just a little more," he coos breathlessly and bottoms out in your mouth, pelvis touching your wet lips. "You can take it for me, can't you?"
You choke and moan at the same time. Tears stream down your cheeks and mix with your saliva as they drip down your chin. It's so messy, so filthy, yet you genuinely don't recall when was the last time you felt this heavenly. His cock suffocates you as he fucks into your mouth roughly, moaning and grunting in the process.
Both of your heads are spinning, Sunghoon finally cums, hips stuttering, and releases thick ropes of cum down your throat. You swallow and slurp around him, trying to gather as much of it as you can without letting it go to waste. The familiar salty, slightly bitter taste hits your palate just right and you suck him clean from every single drop.
With a heavy sigh, Sunghoon slumps down on the couch right next to you, hand traveling to your bare thigh and caressing it with his fingertips. You lay in your place for a while, catching your breath and collecting your thoughts as you subconsciously lean into his touch.
This scene is nothing new – the both of you being way too touchy, way too soft after fucking each other's minds away. It's not new, the way you stand up and push him back on the couch as he tries to follow you to the bathroom to shower with you. You wash yourself quickly, then steal another one of his shirts per usual.
You walk back to the living room where Sunghoon stayed and the question he asks is as old as time.
"Stay the night?"
And, like you always do, you send him a mocking smile and grab the keys from the cupboard where you left them an hour ago.
"Bye, Hoon," you say and twist the door handle.
And he calls after you, not a week where he's been wrong, "See you next Friday, baby."
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𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯' 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?
𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯' 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘵, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦
𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘹, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵?
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taglist: @luvkpopp @yannew @hoonxclsvly @jongseongslvr @beomgyusonlywife @starggukies @koizekomi @ineedsomezzz @starl1ghtsinthedark @enhastolemyheart
permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @seungiesluv
note: let's goooooo 🫶 first chapter posted 🥳 i have no idea when will i publish the other ones but i'll try my best to do it as soon as possible!! this was actually so fun to write, so i hope you guys liked it as well 🤸 all the feedback is greatly appreciated babes!! 🩷
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demonic0angel · 9 months
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Hotel AU
Jason groaned, holding a military grade field dressing to his wound as he tried his best to walk faster. Gunshots rang behind him and instinct allowed him to dodge, but one bullet still managed to graze him by the shoulder. It only made pain flare up worse, but Jason just sucked in a breath through his teeth and toiled onward to get to safety.
His comms buzzed in his ear, but no one was available at the moment. Jason still muttered a soft, "Requiring backup."
No one answered.
Jason, for an existential crisis-having moment, wondered if he was gonna die again.
Just as he thought this, a hand grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into another building.
Jason cursed and pulled out his gun with his unfortunately injured hand and pointed it towards his assailant, but then paused.
He had been pulled into a beautiful, first class looking hotel area.
"What the..." he started, before he turned.
An enormously tall woman smiled down at him. She was outrageously beautiful, with long red hair tied into a ponytail and a neat uniform covered by an apron. "Welcome, sir, to the Phantom Hotel! You seem to be in need of some assistance, would you like some help?"
Jason felt eerily calm and level headed, even as he bled all over the floors. "... that'd be nice." He said gruffly.
"Right away, sir." She said with a smile. She waved to someone over to his side and continued to speak. "I'm the co-owner of this hotel, you may call me Jazz. May I get your name for registration?"
Jason still didn't freak out yet. "Registration?" He echoed, as he took in his surroundings.
The hotel was beautiful, with tall ceilings, marble floors, white walls and candle chandeliers that glowed with dim lighting. People that didn't look like Gothamites milled around the lobby and sitting area, all relaxed and chatting amicably. There were a few that were dancing to club music. There was a noticeable bar in the corner of the room that looked unstaffed but was conspicuous in its size and black coloring.
"Yes, sir." Jazz said. "I assume that you're staying the night? We offer breakfast in the morning, and drinks are free all night!"
Jason was silent for a moment. A person wearing a similar uniform to Jazz, with a dark green vest and dark colored apron, approached them and immediately got to bandaging Jason's wounds.
Once again, Jason did not freak. He felt oddly calm, and in the back of his head, he knew that he was safe here. His gut instinct was to collapse on top of Jazz and take a nap, strangely comforted by her presence.
"... why am I so calm?"
Fuck it. He decided to just voice his question.
Jazz giggled. It was a cute noise. "Why wouldn’t you be? There’s nothing to worry about. We're the same, after all!"
Jason blinked. Then he turned to her as the attendant stepped away with the medical box, Jason feeling all healed up, and he said, "Is a night here free?"
"For you? Yep! Everything is free here."
Jason gave a nod. "Then I'll take a room with a single bed, please. Breakfast is free?"
"Yes, sir."
"Great. The name's Jason Todd."
Jazz smiled, a sparkle in her eyes that made Jason feel all fuzzy with warmth. "Very good, sir. Your room number is 312, on the third floor. Here's your room card." She handed over a plastic card that was procured out of thin air but Jason didn't think about it.
He was mentally exhausted and being in her presence made him feel like he was going to drop and fall asleep on the floor and still wake up refreshed. It was so disconcerting that it was almost not disconcerting.
Jason eventually found the elevator, though not without lingering a little around the area. The vigilante in him was telling him to be careful, even though everything else inside of him couldn't give less of a damn and was telling him to kick back and relax. Jazz, after registering him, had gone to the bar to prepare drinks.
She mixed together alcoholic concoctions amidst a small crowd and the more Jason stared, the more it seemed like the dim light was hiding something. People looked like they were wearing ragged clothes and a lot of them had dark stains. There were quite a large amount of old people as well, along with people with seemingly missing appendages.
The last two details wasn't a bad thing, but the amount of them seemed like a hint to something bigger.
When Jazz made eye contact with Jason, she gave a sweet smile and a little wave, and that was Jason's signal to leave.
He got into an elevator, went to his room, and practically sank into the cloud-like bed before he basically knocked himself out. That night, he had never slept so well.
When he woke up, his body felt rejuvenated and he almost felt peppy. It was as if his previous irritations were only bad days and he had finally struck on a good day for once.
He washed up, miraculously found his wounds all healed up, and when he went to take a shower, his clothes were found on the sink, all washed and patched up. Even his helmet had been cleaned and fixed, pristine like the day he had first gotten it.
Jason could've been more suspicious.
But to reiterate, he couldn't.
Everything about this place was like a mother's hug. It was comforting. It made him feel safe. He felt like there was nothing to worry about and although a small part of him found this alarming, he really couldn't explain why he decided to trust it.
When he came down the elevator for breakfast, he was astonished.
Last night, the hotel had looked elegant and high class. Now, in the morning, everything looked warm and homey.
The various large rectangle tables had turned into small round tables that were densely packed together. The floor was a cool blue carpet and the walls had turned a shade of cream. The ceiling had shrank, but now flowers and vines grew from it, dropping from the ceiling with bright blossoms. The bar had been replaced with a little coffee area, with a young man behind the counter, currently taking orders.
The people sitting around and eating their breakfasts looked different in morning light. They glowed with faint shades of blue and green.
Jason paused to take in the sight, considering this information before he shook it off and approached the counter.
The man, after noticing him, immediately went to the cash register with a large smile on his face. "Hello!" He said cheerfully.
Jason immediately noted the similarities between him and Jazz. They had the same heart shaped face, the same ethereal beauty to them, the same nose and smile. This man, however, had bright blue eyes and dark black hair that swept over his eyes.
"What are you drugging me with? I'm way too comfortable here." Jason blurted out.
The man paused. And then he burst out laughing. Jason couldn't help the few snickers that fell out of his throat too, but they both quickly calmed down and the man explained softly, "We're not drugging you. You're just comfortable here because it's where you belong. Don't stress too much."
He continued to smile reassuringly. "Call me Danny. I'm the owner. What would you like to order?"
Jason's eyes flicked to the menu and then he said, "A California club croissant and a caramel latte, please."
"Coming right up, big guy!"
Jason moved a little bit away to the side so that other people could order.
He couldn't help but contemplate what was going on, but it was a little hard to think being this close to Danny's presence. The urge to fight against his soothed mind and the urge to just relax were warring, but unfortunately, his latter side was winning.
If Jazz had seemed comforting and like a hug, then Danny was the blanket, fireplace, hot chocolate cup and book on a cool rainy evening. It was like Danny was his missing piece that just sucked out all of the fear, misery, and rage inside of him.
It was almost crazy how Jason didn't want to retaliate against them at all.
"Here you go, Jason." A voice interrupted him and Jason looked up into crystalline eyes before something was pushed into his hands.
Jason looked down at his order and then up again. "Thanks."
Danny smiled. "No problem! You're pretty freaked out, huh?"
Jason shrugged. Then he thought about it and he asked, "Can I leave?"
"Of course you can." Danny said. "Come back anytime. For someone like you, you have the opportunity to come by anytime you want."
Jason nodded wordlessly and then, with his order in hand, he started walking to the door.
For one last time, he turned and met Danny's eyes. Danny smiled cheerfully, his eyes squinted in happiness. He gave a big wave and Jason returned it before he put on his helmet and pushed past the doors into the open air of Gotham's polluted and smoky world.
The rose glasses fell off and the pink sparkles faded away with each blink.
Jason stared dumbfounded at his own state of body and mind, as his siblings and family all screamed into his ear frantically, begging to know where he went and how he was.
Jason could only stare at the gray, listless world around him and wonder if he had imagined everything.
"What the fuck?"
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highvern · 2 months
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Waited
Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader
Genre: smut (18+)
warnings: mentions of mental health/poor self image, drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, cheating, violence (nothing explicit), oral, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, degrading, spanking, marking, jealous Yoongi, rip Namjoon, bi Taehyung
Length: ~4.2k
Note: this originally was gonna be a short FWB smut but alas nothing turns out like i plan hahahahahahahahah shoot me thank you @the-boy-meets-evil and @onlyhuis for subjecting yourselves to this mess.
Summary: Best friends since childhood means you can tell each other anything. Right?
m.list + support my work
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
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Yoongi enters your world three days before you turn six years old. His parents buy the house across the cul de sac that's sat empty for months and show up with a moving truck and their two sons. While they're unpacking your mom walks over to welcome them to the neighborhood and you hide behind her leg to stare at the boy with a choppy bowl cut who stares right back from behind his own mom’s leg.
You dub Yoongi your best friend in fourth grade. It’s a silent declaration but one he quickly falls in line with. He’d always been the smallest in class, easy cannon fodder for bullies that want to push around the quiet kid. One time too many people called him stupid under their breath and you snapped. After school detention for three weeks and a handwritten apology addressed to the boy with a broken nose is the price you pay but no one messes with him again after that. 
The first time you realize your best friend is handsome is senior year of high school. An hour before prom your date decided he wanted to go with someone else and Yoongi, who had zero interest in “cliche, organized humiliation rituals” trugged across the pavement to your house in a borrowed tux too big in the shoulders.
He posed for pictures while both your parents cooed, hands respectable at your waist as you both smiled through the awkwardness. His brother drops you both off and slips a contraband flask full of shitty alcohol in Yoongi’s hand before taking off. 
You pretended not to notice when Jisung and Yoongi both simultaneously disappeared, only to reappear twenty minutes later; Yoongi sporting bruised knuckles and the traces of what would become a black eye come the next morning along with a split lip. Instead, you take another sip of what must be gasoline and pull him to the dance floor. During the singular slow dance he allotted, with your head against his shoulder and the reak of his older brother’s after shave burning your nose, you realized you wouldn’t mind if he kissed you. 
The rest of the night is spent emptying your guts in Yoongi’s ensuite because your parents were so confident nothing would happen between the two of you that sleepovers at Yoongi’s were too common.
The first time you kiss Yoongi is also the night you lose your virginity. Your sophomore year boyfriend broke up with you two days before finals. Yoongi couldn’t stand Taehyung or the way you apparently believed he shit rainbows so you expected him to find nothing but joy in the news. 
But when you showed up outside his apartment, elephant tears streaking down your face as you gasped around an explanation, Yoongi said nothing. He simply walked into the kitchen, pulled out the bottle of liquor he saved for special occasions, and passed it to you along with a shot glass. 
He let your drunken sobs stain the collar of his shirt until you laughed yourself hysterical at the irony of it all. How Taehyung claimed he wasn’t ready for anything serious when he pursued you first, how he broke up with you after you told him you weren’t ready for anything physical. 
“Fuck him,” Yoongi grumbled, burrowed between the pillows of his bed.
Your head lulled onto his shoulder with a snort, “I think that was part of the problem.”
Then you kissed him and Yoongi kissed you back. And when you planted yourself in his lap and touched him, he took the chance to touch you too. At some point your clothes were gone, allowing your best friend to take as much liberty as he liked. But even though the details are fuzzy you know he was gentle and devout. Yoongi took all the time in the world, pushing and pushing until you almost broke and melted to the floor.
And after all was said and done you cried while Yoongi held you until your eyes swelled shut.
The next day Taehyung called and asked to work things out. Like a naive fool you agreed and then two years passed in a blink before you caught him fucking the doe eyed underclassmen from his fraternity the night of graduation. 
You wanted Yoongi but the last time you ran crying to him about Taehyung sat in the back of your mind. Since that day he’d taken a step back, missing your calls or dodging plans. Still your best friend but not present like before. Half your own fault because he warned you getting back with Taehyung was a bad idea but rather than listen, you told him to fuck off and mind his business. So he did and managed to get a girlfriend in the process.
But the universe has a weird way of shoving people together. Sipping from a bottle on the steps to the should-be-condemned house you rented with six other girls, eyes glassy and unfocused, you didn’t realize someone was calling your name until he sat down beside you. 
“I heard,” Yoongi says, snagging your drink and downing his own mouthful before going back for seconds.
Your lips bruise under your teeth, the pain barely managing to consume your focus away from the new wave of tears threatening to crop up. “That I’m an idiot?”
Cold hands find the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, pulling it back up in the places it's dropped before curling around your frame and wrangling you into the boney side of his. 
“That Taehyung is still an asshole.”
It's too familiar. Your hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt, his neck wet with your cries. Yoongi barely managed to get you upstairs and in bed without fuss, a plethora of pathetic cries none of your roommates are around to hear blurring your vision. 
“Where’s Tiffany?” You ask, fumbling into the mattress. You’ll ask him anything to get your mind of the hurt.
Yoongi fought to tuck you in, shoving you back into the pillows everytime you tried to get up and attempted to convince him to go to the bars where your classmates are currently celebrating. Where Taehyung is probably strung out across whoever will give him the time of day.
He lets you pull him into a hug when a new wave of sadness erupts. It’s the first time you get a good look at him in months despite the blur in your vision. Silver in the streetlights flooding through the slits of the blinds, the dark dye he used to appease his mom washing out at the fried tips of his hair. Any more to drink and you’d convince yourself this is all some cruel dream. A ghost of the past haunting you in misery. 
Yoongi might as well be. Nearly two years gone from the face of the Earth, only to be caught in short glimpses at parties or between class changes. Both of you spent the time reserved for each other with new people.
You missed him. 
He turns to leave too soon; already halfway to the door before you speak.
“Stay?” 
Even in your double vision you see the crack in Yoongi’s mask, the regret swelling to the surface. “She’s waiting back at my place.”
The summer comes with the suffocating muggy heat of your childhood home. Your parents fail to stifle their thrill Taehyung is out of the picture, more content to pretend he never existed in the first place. 
Everyday blurs together, a routine you’ve maintained since you can remember. Hot days by the pool in your parents backyard (without Yoongi hiding in the shade), dinner at the greasy restaurant by the river with friends (but not Yoongi), and packing your room one last time (which holds too many memories of Yoongi).
The news comes from your mom. 
She probes for information about the last time you heard from your neighbor turned friend turned stranger, complaining she misses having him around like when you were kids, asking what he’s been up to lately. It’s evident by your short response you haven’t heard yet.
He’s on the dilapidated swing set in his parents backyard when you find him. Shoulders slumped, toeing in the dirt, while he gazes beyond the treeline. 
Silently, you take a seat in the second swing, ignoring the way the wood creaks under your weight. Without a word he hands you his phone. The screen is bright with the last messages.
Tiffany: you just seem to have a lot going on…
Tiffany: i don’t know if I can handle all of it
You hand back the device. There's nothing to say. Cursing her till you’re blue in the face won’t make him feel better and neither will platitudes. Yoongi won’t believe anything contrary to what she said, at least not right now when he’s reeling from a blow to his most vulnerable parts.
So you sit in silence until the moon swells in the sky. He isn’t ready to talk about it when you both fumble down to his parents basement. Or when he hits the Rick and Morty bong Seokjin bought him for Secret Santa years ago. Definitely not when he tries to kiss you and you let him. And not when you end up in his lap, both naked and fighting to detach from what exists beyond the tattered upholstery of the couch. 
Yoongi finally speaks hours later, shoulder to shoulder in the comforting murky darkness of his room. You both still have the heated glow of bare skin sticking together where you touch but it turns clammy when he spills his guts.
He told her those three words after meeting her parents the week before. The first girl you’ve ever seen him be serious about. She said them back but Yoongi didn’t believe her. And the proof he was right sits immortalized in texts messages.
Each word cuts like a knife. Admitting his hurt, his vulnerabilities and weaknesses before shifting the focus to something safer like your break up from May and if Taehyung has tried anything.
He softens when your lips crest his shoulder. The lingering franticness fades with each peck as you move across his chest, then his throat, then his lips. Because you know Yoongi wants to talk about this once and never again. Needs to put it behind him before it becomes too real.
You leave for the city two weeks later and Yoongi follows after managing to snag a shitty IT job. He spends more time at your apartment than his own and when the girl you met through a roommate group moves out, Yoongi moves in.
Maybe it becomes too common of an occurrence. What was once reserved as an escape from the crushing weight of rejection, a way to find comfort in each other more than before, turned into a quick fix at the slightest annoyance. When you’re too pent up or Yoongi had a hard day. If you were feeling insecure after another failed date, or he simply wanted an easy lay with someone who knew how to get him off without the awkward pauses of learning.
Now, Yoongi bends you over the counter at three in the morning, lapping at your cunt like he didn’t have you sitting on his face before leaving for Namjoon's apartment to pre-game. The dig of the marble edge in your ribs is less alluring than the comfort of your bed; but what Yoongi wants he more often than not gets, so how do you refuse when he shuffles you into an Uber with hunger in his gaze and possessiveness in the grip on your thigh. 
“Yoongi,” you sigh. Reaching back, one of your hands anchors in the short tufts of his hair, pressing him firmer into the ache of your pussy. 
The tug of the cool counter top against your nipples works in his favor, leaving you desperate with a hitch in your throat each time you rock back into his waiting tongue. It dips into your opening, wedged between his fingers that dig into your walls just right after years of practice. Yoongi knows how to push all your buttons, he’s sewed half of them on. 
Your forehead meets the marble on the next swell of his tongue except this time is across your ass and punctuated with a bite you’ll feel next time you sit. A harsh clench around his fingers grants you sinful drag of his tongue across the hole only ever explored by him. 
“Fuc–Yoongi!” 
Sloppy kisses follow your spine until he’s at your ear with his cock resting against the meat of your ass. You're bent back at the waist once again so he can pluck at your nipples the way he likes, until you're shuddering away and pleading for mercy in a way meant to spur him further.
“Bet Namjoon wouldn’t do this,” Yoongi grunts with a tease of his cock inside, bare.
He’ll never let you forget the semester of freshman year you drooled for his friend's dick while Namjoon remained none the wiser. Every unconscious shut down sent Yoongi into a sadistic fit of laughter until you cut your losses and called it quits. 
You know why he’s bringing it up now. Namjoon looked good tonight. Newly single with a buzzcut that ruined most men’s allure. Maybe you contemplated re-igniting the old flame when he first showed up but now there's history and comradery that didn't exist in your younger days and it's too complicated just for the chance to satiate your curiosity. They’re all the same reasons you shouldn’t be fucking your best friend since grade school but none of it seems to have the same weight.
It didn’t matter what you decided because Yoongi saw enough temptation in your gaze to bring it up like he isn’t the one fucking you regularly.
Your pants fog across the marble. “Should we call and find out?” 
His palm stings into your ass, heating the skin on impact. The opportunity to neg him into another smack passes too quickly. You’re already at the mercy of Yoongi’s mouth on yours, the taste of whiskey, stale cigarettes, and your pussy less than appealing but his tongue is hot when he licks behind your teeth.
A hand takes up the work between your legs, rough and rushed as you trapeze down the hallway towards the bedroom. Yoongi thumbs at your clit with intent. You nearly collapse against the wall with buckled knees from the onslaught of too much stimulation.
Breaching the bedroom door proves too much a struggle. Yoongi bounces off the door jam from a rough grope against his zipper which leaves you flailing before catching in the corner of the mattress. His room is too damn small for the king bed he insisted on but it makes for a great backdrop to your fucking. Miles better than the more practical queen hidden in your room further down the hall.
You manage to push him off long enough to dig your knees into the sheets, crawling to the pillows with an arch you know he’ll rib you for later.
“Coming?” You ask over your shoulder, eyeing the flash of his boxers creeping through the opening of his zipper.
Flopping on your back, you splay across the over abundance of pillows like a queen while Yoongi works off his pants. His hair is a mess and a bruise the size of your mouth blooms high enough on his neck he’ll have to wear turtlenecks for the next two weeks. “Spread your legs.”
“Do you one better.” It's a goad in the most obvious sense. He likes to watch you huff, failing to get yourself off until he intervenes and gives exactly what you need. So you throw your legs wide, bent at the knees just to make it clearer in the faint light spilling from the window, and sink a hand down and play with the mess he caused. “Mmmm, Yoongi.” 
“Finger it for me,” he drawls.
Muscles melt at the first pass inside your already battered walls. Not as deft as his fingers but you won’t tell him that unprompted. Yoongi’s ego is big enough when it comes to your sex life, fueled by the knowledge he’s collected many of your firsts. But the way he palms over his underwear in mimic of your rhythm tempts you to break that rule.
“Come here.” 
Yoongi just smirks at the demand, pushing the mess of his pants off until he’s bare and the maroon head of his cock makes you drool.  “You come here.”
“I’m not playing naked chicken.” You growl. “Come fuck me before I get my vibrator.” 
Flipping on your front with your ass in the air, you drive a hard bargain Yoongi’s never been capable of saying no to. The bed dips behind you, knees between your own, shuffling them wider so he can stretch you until you’re pliant and aching.
His chest melts to your back, sticking uncomfortable but you don’t care because it feels good. Like he’s consuming you. “How bad do you want it?” Yoongi bites into your shoulder.
“Yoongi, fuck.” Your arms collapse under the first rush of his hips, spin dipping harshly to take every inch until he’s flat against your rear.
In a blink, you’re parallel to the mattress, pinned under his weight. It’s pathetic for so early in the game but Yoongi is the same man who gave you so many orgasms you’ve cried so it only stands to reason he crumbles your bravado like it's nothing. 
Sniffling in his hold, you turn to nose at his cheek over your shoulder. “Please, fuck me.” 
“Shit,” he spits with a harsh thrust. “You’re so fucking tight for me.” 
The next press of his hips leaves you heaving. Your hands scramble when he cants a bruising pace against your ass. Hard. All while every noise he tries to hide sings straight into your ear.
With immense effort, you wiggle onto your back. Yoongi meets you with a kiss, tongue to tongue while he works back inside where you both need him most.
The callous of his palm rakes against your throat, not squeezing, just a possessive firmness.
“H-harder,” you beg, nails leaving crescents in his shoulder.
Yoongi hitches your thigh over his; slowing so he can fuck you deeper, crushing every noise hiding in your gut out. 
Shocked from the sudden rush against your clit, your leg kicks out straight. It’ll leave you sore in the hips come morning but right now you don’t even register the discomfort. “Oh, oh, oh!” 
“Like that?” Somehow he manages to drag the head of his cock deeper from the praise.
“Just like that,” you pant into his mouth.
He leans back to watch your decay into desperation but stops when you tug him back by the sensitive roots of his hair. Cracking open your eyes, you find his brown ones inches away. Forehead to forehead while you both synthesize into a heap of flushed skin and need.
Fingers intertwined, Yoongi pins your hand on the pillow. Then he stares. Not at your face as you crest the first wave of an orgasm but your fingers curled between his. Like he’s never done it before, like he doesn’t know exactly how you two got in this position. 
“Oh my god, Yoongi.” 
You cum hard. Nearly managing to drive him out from the force to your insides. Every muscle twisting tighter and tighter until it breaks and when you pull his mouth back to yours all you can do is shake under his lips with cracked mewls.
Yoongi might be shaking too but he swells inside you with a groan, collapsing into your neck before your brain catches up to consider the idea.
Dodging an attempt at a final kiss, he favors his lips on your throat. Fleeting wet pecks that get you choking on air. Then your breasts where he takes up his abandoned work on your nipples, teeth flashing across the sensitive peaks until your shoulders cave and you're desperate for him again; grinding into the fingers he’s so readily supplies.
He’s fucked you like this before. When he has something to prove to the non-existent entity constantly creeping on his subconscious, when he feels he isn’t good enough in some intangible way. Asking him what's wrong won’t do anything. Yoongi will tell you when he’s ready; if he ever is. Years of friendship and the fear you’ll see a part of him capable of scaring you away still eats him alive. So you’ll give him whatever reassurance he needs this way and hope he understands.
Your second orgasm comes faster than the first. Trails of the previous pleasure pushing you swiftly along. Yoongi latches his lips around your clit and sucks until spots flash and your thighs nearly crush his head.
“Fuck, Yoongi. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You cry, threatening to fold in half under his fingers. “G-gonna cum again.”
Flares of lightning in your blood explode. Throat raw from wailing, Yoongi works you through until you dig your ankle into his ribs and kick him off.
The cold air in the room helps cool your feverish skin unlike the dark haired man flopping next to you. It’s quiet around two sets of gasping breaths and the rain tapping at the window.
Shoulder to shoulder, you calm in the drum of the overhead fan. Yoongi’s fingers tangling and untangling with your own confirms your suspicion. Whatever he needs to tell you bubbles below the surface, swirling until he finds the safest words to share his feelings. There's no point in guessing but it doesn’t stop you from spiraling through the possibilities.
The major suspects lack any clear indication. His date last weekend ended with mutual disinterest. Nothing concerning his job registers in your vague memory. Both your parents were fine the last time you visited months ago. Yoongi’s nephew is fine—
 “I told my mom you're my girlfriend.”
Well that's new. “Oh.”
“It was an accident but—”
“What’d she say?” You cut him off. 
Yoongi hesitates. Your voice doesn’t betray disdain or hope, only reluctant curiosity. If you set too many expectations he’ll clam up and avoid you for months like when he lost his virginity at a party freshman year. Yoongi shares on his terms and you listen.
“That it was about time I got my head out of my ass.”
You wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. Yoongi’s palm slick against your own betrays his nerves, the ghost of squeeze begs for some kind of reassurance he isn’t crazy. 
“Huh.” You exclaim to the ceiling. It’s not the worst idea. And its definitely not the first time you’ve entertained it.
He lets you go the second you tug on your connected hands, anticipating swift rejection that leaves you feeling sour. But you’re rolling into his chest, the now free hand protecting his sternum from the dig of your chin so you can stare him down until he finally blinks your way. You won’t let Yoongi wiggle away from this ten year overdue conversation.
“Is that what you want?”
The answer is clear in his eyes. Yoongi’s mouth rounds over the words to tell you, floundering silently because he’ll admit he isn’t good at things like this. But if it’s worth it to him then you need to hear him say it. 
Rising up, you sit bare in his lap while he works through his nerves. Finally, when your hand cups his cheek and his eyes sink closed, leaning into the warmth, he tells you.
“That’s what I want.”
Your nose wrinkles with a shy smile. “Kinda cliche.”
Yoongi snorts when you kiss him but melts the cold facade swiftly.
“Yeah well,” he huff. “So is losing your virginity to your prom date but let's not talk about that.” Yoongi may spit the words but his hands, gentle where they trace the curve of your sides, betray his euphoria.
“We can talk about that too if you want.” You whisper into his jaw, lips prickling from the shadow growing there. “Prom me probably would have let you fuck her.”
“Yeah?”
You choke on a laugh at the pleased shock on his face. “Yeah, but not after that black eye came in.”
“Cheap fucking shot.” He grumbles under his breath, but you’re already there kissing the words from his lips. Yoongi indulges, melting further into the bed when his tongue timidly slips along yours. After you dip away to press more languid pecks where his cheeks round, he speaks again.  “If I asked you out then what would you have said?”
“Well the only reason I said yes to whats-his-fuck was because someone else was too stubborn to ask me himself.” You hum in his ear. “Does that answer your question?” 
You're on your back in a flash, pinned under your boyfriend who smiles as you flounder and fail to push him off. 
“You need to be nicer to me,” he grunts when you knock out his arms and collapse his chest to yours.
“If you wanted someone nicer, then you had years to figure that out.”
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The fact that radfems spread this post around is actually really interesting--infuriating, but interesting. Because what they've really done here is tell on themselves.
This is the shrimp guy story:
From an anonymous green text called "shrimp saved my life" [emphasis mine]:
>be depressed, suicidal xanax- addicted incel >one day I go to my /aq/fag uncle's house for some shit >he has pet shrimp, never seen anything like it before >he offers to get me some 53 KB JPG >throw them in a barely cycled tank with some shitty rock >several shrimp die >realize that I killed them with my apathy >realize I need to take responsibility for once in my life >do research, learn about water parameters and so on >eventually I have a beautiful planted tank with no more deaths >notice a female shrimp carrying eggs >haven't felt this excited about anything in almost a decade >the eggs disappear and I once again think I fucked up >a few days later I see a tiny transparent baby shrimp >l suddenly know how the shepherds felt as they gazed upon the newborn Christ >by this point I live and breathe shrimp >all my spare time is spent on shrimp research and watching shrimp videos >l spend most of the money I had saved from my last job on shrimp products >quit the Xanax to support shrimp spending >start putting effort into college in hope of getting a good job for my shrimp >grades improve, no longer facing the prospect of dropping out >relationship with parents improves since I am finally passionate about something and applying myself >l see genuine happiness in their eyes when I talk excitedly about my shrimp >for my birthday my mom makes me a shrimp cake >it even has fondant legs and little chocolate eggs >cry like a little bitch when I see it >mom hugs me and tells me she's always been proud of me >college dorm neighbours demand to see my shrimp >shit they're gonna think I'm autistic >they actually think my shrimp are really cool >they start inviting me to their social events >start interacting with girls, get told by girls for the first time in my life that I'm fun and smart >l think my shrimp would be proud of me if they knew >We're gonna make it bros. Even if you can't do it for yourself, do it for the animals that depend on you.
He did address his relationship with women. By finding a hobby and passion and working on himself--"touching grass"--he stepped away from the echo chamber that filled him with all this rage and convinced him women were to blame for all of his problems. As someone once wisely observed, "the cure is going offline and realizing it's just. really not that big a deal."
And that is what radfems have not done, so of course they didn't spot the quiet flashpoint of shrimp guy's personal development within his story.
Edit: it's been brought to my attention that the version of the greentext post I lifted the text from was censored by someone else. My bad for not realizing that, tbh it was done so well I thought shrimp guy had done it himself, but that's an important part of the post. I've gone back through and un-censored it. The reply which was spread around with the original post addressed the words themselves well, I think; however distasteful and fucked up the incel rabbit hole is, it doesn't diminish his growth.
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ddejavvu · 8 months
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if you would ever consider writing more tutor!reid x hotchner! reader, could i please request something where maybe she gets a really high grade on an assignment or midterm and she shows up to the office to tell spencer in person? maybe they’ve been together for a little at this point <333 i hope you’re doing well we appreciate you so much
part 1
--
Usually when you rush through the doors of the BAU, you beeline for your dad's office. You've been told not to run a thousand times, but nothing ever stops you when you're excited, and the team has learned to ignore your thunderous footsteps until you've gotten the enthusiasm out of your system.
This time, though, instead of racing up the stairs, you rush to Spencer's desk.
"Spence!" You call, and he has little time to turn and take you in before you're grabbing greedily at his face, pressing your lips to his in a clumsy, over-eager kiss.
Ever-dramatic, several BAU mouths fall open around the bullpen. Emily's eyes are shining with amusement, and Derek looks like he's seen a ghost, while various shit-eating grins pass around the small space. Spencer reacts slow, but places his hand over your own on his cheek, blinking bewilderedly when you draw back.
"Angel-" He starts, and the team is only more enthused to hear a nickname like that drop from his lips like it's commonplace, "What-?"
"I got a 100%," You breathe, almost too excited to form actual words. Luckily, you don't have to, because Spencer shoots out of his seat at the news, nearly knocking you backwards if he hadn't caught you around the waist.
The kiss he presses to your lips is equally as urgent and impromptu as the one you'd captured him in, only this time he's the one holding onto you. You have no problem throwing your arms around his neck and giggling into the affection, and when you part lips it's with shaky, shallow breaths.
"That's amazing," He gushes, kissing again at your slightly shiny lips, "Angel, that's incredible!"
"You're incredible!" You counter, "I never would have done it without your help, Spence."
"You two kissed!" Penelope informs you, standing bewilderedly in the doorway of the kitchenette, "Y/N, you- you kissed Spencer!"
"She does that a lot," Your dad emerges from behind her, a note of resignation in his voice even though he swears he's happy for you, "Mostly at my house."
"They-" Penelope turns, dumbfounded as she stares at her boss, "You knew?"
"He caught us," You admit sheepishly, leaning against Spencer's chest, "We were studying math, but- well, we got distracted."
Morgan snickers, standing up to clap Spencer on the shoulder, "Hey, nice one, pretty boy. I'm proud of you. Gonna study anatomy next?"
Your dad's voice drowns out any indignant groans from the team, booming so loudly over the bullpen that you duck your face instinctively against Spencer's chest.
"Agent Morgan, my office, now!"
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libraryofgage · 6 months
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Addams Family B-Side (1)
Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell (on the way!)
This is part of a series of unrelated works entitled "Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually" and I think that title is fairly self-explanatory. If there are any other couples you think would be good parents for our Stevie boy, let me know and I'll take them into consideration!
Anyway, the B-Side thing is because this is like taking my Addams Family Steddie au and just flipping the cassette tape hfjsdk
This time, it's Steve that's the Addams and Eddie that's normal!
Anyway, blame @whatthemeepever for this one specifically cuz it's gonna spiral into a wild ride actually, so let's all pray for Eddie in advance
If you'd like a tag for any future parts, let me know!
And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't
-------
The moment Steve is born, his father sticks a light bulb in his mouth. When it glows, he jumps with joy and throws Steve into the air. The moment Steve's mother realizes what's happening, she slaps his father upside the head, throws the light bulb at him, and threatens to blow him up again if he sticks anymore into Steve's mouth before he starts teething.
She follows through on the promise exactly two weeks later, and Steve's parents (one smug and the other notably singed but delighted) rebuild their house next door to his father's brother.
Steve's mother chooses his first and last name (Harrington, a reference to some long-lost family friend or other), and his father is reluctantly given the freedom to choose his middle name. In the end, he is dubbed Steve Faustus Harrington, a name his mother is so surprised to find acceptable that she kisses his father as a reward.
And so begins Steve's life.
------
"I can't believe you got expelled," Steve's mother seethes, gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turn white. "Again!"
Steve crosses his arms, sinking lower in his seat as he glares out the window. "It's not my fault they were shitty friends. They got what they deserved."
He hears his mother laugh, the sound strained and indignant and very quickly followed by his father turning to look at Steve from the passenger seat. His sunken eyes are filled with suppressed delight as he asks, "What did they do this time?"
A few seconds pass before Steve sighs. "They said they couldn't go out later because they had to study for finals. I mean, what kind of bullshit is that? Finals are three weeks away, and they can't spare one weekend for the funeral museum?" he says, scoffing as he looks at his father, grins, and adds, "So, I brought the funeral museum to them, coffins and cremations and all."
His father's eyes light up, sheer joy and pride dancing in them. And for the very first time in Steve's life, his mother pulls over to the side of the road and parks the car.
"Pumpkin?" his father asks.
"Fester," she says, her voice low and somewhere in the range of upset, "do you remember when I tried to kill your entire family?"
"Of course. It was a splendid attempt."
She nods and looks at him with a tiny, somewhat pained smile. Then she turns and sets her gaze on Steve. "Darling, what kind of grades do your friends have?" she asks. "Because if you're anything like me, and I know you are, you tend to befriend people who are significantly dumber than you."
Steve blinks, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, most of them were about to fail," he admits.
"Then, isn't it possible they really were studying for finals? Especially if they were close to failing at a school where passing is a requirement of attendance? Perhaps you could have suggested going to the...funeral museum after finals?"
A few seconds pass as Steve considers her words, a crushing sense of realization and guilt dropping on his shoulders and traveling to the pit of his stomach. It makes him feel nauseous, and he stares down at his lap. "I fucked up," he finally says, voice quiet and apologetic.
"Of course not!" Fester says, reaching out and ruffling Steve's hair despite the affronted noise from Debbie, "Your plan was beautifully conceived and masterfully executed. Perhaps you should just talk a little more before pulling out the urns next time."
"Incredibly, your father is right," Debbie says, looking pleasantly surprised before turning her gaze to Steve. She sighs and holds out a hand, squeezing Steve's when he takes it. "Don't get so blinded by a beautiful pair of shoes that you completely miss the sale two aisles over, Steve. At the very least, do a little more research before resorting to torture and murder. Personally, I'm very tired of calling the family's lawyer."
Steve snorts at the utter lie. Debbie loves calling the family's lawyer. She does so regularly just to double-check the state of Fester's stocks and bonds and deeds and general worth. "Okay," he says, nodding once, "I'll remember for the next school."
"You know," Fester says, looking at Debbie hopefully, "Pubert is a senior this year. Maybe Steve could go to high school with him."
Debbie hesitates, frowning slightly before saying, "Yes, but it's...public school."
"The best Gomez and Morticia could find! It was highly recommended by Margaret, and Pubert can make sure Steve adjusts and makes friends."
Steve can see the moment his mother agrees. She sighs, lets go of his hand, and fixes her already perfect bob. "Well, I suppose," she says before looking at Steve once more. "And you, Steve? Would you like to try...public school for your junior year?"
"Sure, might be fun," Steve says, thinking about all the movies he's seen that display public high schools as a zoo and the worst place on Earth. It sounds great, and if the place is still standing while Pubert attends, it must be somewhat entertaining.
------
"You've got everything you'll need?"
Steve looks up from lacing his shoes and smiles at his mother, earning a nervous grin in return. Her blonde hair is uncharacteristically frazzled, and Steve feels warm and fuzzy (like a mold growing over his heart) at knowing she's so worried as to appear less-than-perfect in front of him.
"Yes, I've got everything," he says, gesturing to the backpack on the stairs next to him. In addition to notebooks and his pencil case, Steve has also packed a travel mace, a miniature bomb (alarm clock detonator stored separately, of course), a tiny bottle of tequila, and his lucky lightbulb (just in case).
His mother nods once, takes a deep breath, and then turns her head toward the kitchen to shout, "FESTER!"
Something crashes, a cat (they don't have a cat) yowls, and Steve's father slides into the doorway. "Yes, Pumpkin?" he asks, eyes bright and happy and utterly stuck on Debbie.
"Is Steve's lunch ready? You made something normal, right?" she asks, one eyebrow raised.
Fester glances at Steve, a brief look shared between them that's both sympathetic and endeared toward Debbie. "Of course," Fester says, disappearing for two seconds before striding over to the stairs with a pink lunch box decorated with black skulls (Steve chose the color, Fester chose the pattern, and Debbie gave them her stamp of approval). "A turkey sandwich, fruit, cookies, and juice."
"Fruit?" Debbie asks, her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Apple slices!"
After a few seconds, Debbie nods, and Fester gives the lunch box to Steve, shifting some so Debbie doesn't see the conspiratorial wink that tells him the juice is definitely poisoned. Steve grins and shoves the lunch box into his bag. He finishes lacing his shoes and stands, holding his arms out so his mother can inspect him.
"You've done a wonderful job pairing your shirt and shoes," Debbie says, walking around Steve with an air of pride and approval. She rubs the sleeve of his pastel yellow sweater between her thumb and forefinger, nodding once. "The plum pants are a bold choice, but it pays off. And, as always, your hair is flawless, dear."
Steve grins, letting his arms fall to his side. "I tried that new mousse you gave me," he says, fingers twitching as he fights the urge to run them through his hair. "It works great."
His mother smiles even wider and kisses his cheek, pulling out a handkerchief and carefully wiping away the lipstick residue she leaves behind. "I knew it would," she says, inspecting Steve's face once more before nodding with approval.
"Pumpkin, it's time for Steve to go. Pubert is waiting."
Debbie huffs softly and gives Steve one last once over before nodding and hurrying him toward the door. "Have a good day at school, try not to blow anything up, and call me if Pubert tries to cut off your head with a rusty knife again," she says.
"What if it's a clean knife?"
"Well, that's fine. Grandmama will just sew it back on."
Steve grins and waves to both of his parents before hurrying toward the sidewalk where Pubert is waiting. His hair is parted down the middle and gelled down, his pencil-thin mustache is immaculate as ever, and he's wearing a three-piece suit. When Steve is closer, he pulls out two cigars and offers one.
"This isn't an exploding cigar again, right? I'm wearing a new shirt," Steve says, taking it and looking it over.
"Nah, that joke only works once," Pubert says, dragging a match against his palm to light it. He holds it to his cigar first, puffs a few times, and then does the same for Steve. "How long till you get expelled again, you think?"
Steve shrugs as he takes a puff from the cigar, letting the smoke linger for a moment before skillfully blowing it out in perfect circles as they walk. "I haven't been to a public school before," he says, tapping the cigar over the sidewalk, "so, hopefully, at least a year."
"Public school is fun," Pubert says, getting a wicked grin as he looks at Steve. "You can get away with a lot."
"And the other kids?"
"Well, they've certainly got a lot to learn. I mean, most of them can't even handle a little cyanide."
Steve scrunches his nose and takes another puff of his cigar. After a few seconds he asks, "Will we have any classes together?"
"You're a year below me, so maybe an elective or two. What did you sign up for?"
"I signed up for, uh, shop class, forensic science, and Gothic literature."
"We'll have Gothic lit together," Pubert says, flashing a smile before asking, "And you know what shop class is, right?"
Steve blinks, suddenly a little hesitant. "Is it not, like, something about shopping?"
"No. It's building things. With wood, usually."
"Oh! So, I can build anything?"
"I guess. I haven't taken it."
"Well, I'll find out. Maybe I can build Dad a catapult or guillotine or something."
As they get closer to the school, more students fill the sidewalks, but Steve notices that most of them seem to give him and Pubert a wide berth. They also stare, looking at Steve like he's some kind of puzzle to be solved, with more than a few flashing sympathetic smiles like he's trapped and can't get away. "You're popular," Steve notes, taking one last puff of his cigar before dropping it into a trash can.
"I would fucking hope so," Pubert says, finishing off his cigar and tossing it into the next trash can they pass. "I didn't flood the place with roaches and vermin to not be known."
Steve grins, listening as Pubert regales him with the tale only to cut it short when they get inside the school and pass the front office. "I need to get my schedule, but Mom said she made sure we'd have lunch together," Steve says.
Pubert waves him off. "Yeah, I'll meet you in the cafeteria. Have fun, cousin," he replies, mockingly saluting him before heading off down the main hall.
-----
Steve's first class of the day was AP Calculus, followed by AP Physics, Wood Shop, and AP U.S. History. When it's finally time for lunch, he surveys the cafeteria for a few seconds before finding a table in a dark corner that everyone seems to avoid. By the time he gets there, Pubert has sat down with a tray from the lunch line.
Steve sets his backpack on the table, sits down, and says, "For a place that's so lifeless, it's not even fun."
"Yeah, it's like that," Pubert agrees, poking some unidentifiable mush on his tray with a spork before spooning some into his mouth.
It's with a somewhat jealous expression that Steve pulls out his lunch box and removes a thermos of poisoned juice. "Is it bad?" he asks, nodding to the tray.
"Utterly repulsive."
Steve sighs and takes a sip from the thermos before pulling out everything else in his lunch box. "They made me wear safety goggles in shop. Safety goggles! It's like they don't know how fun splinters in the eyes are. And everyone is soooo scared of the saws, it's ridiculous," he complains, taking an angry bite of his sandwich.
"What about your other classes?"
"Physics would be better with more practical examples. I mean, who cares about apples when we could learn if a body falls faster than a cannonball?"
"From experience, no," Pubert says, "Anyway, you gonna join any clubs?"
"Maybe the swim team? If I'm lucky, I'll drown," Steve says, perking up a little at the thought.
"Best of luck with that," Pubert replies, stealing Steve's thermos to take a sip of his juice. When he places it back, he offers Steve a sporkful of the mush.
Steve lights up and happily tries it, wondering how something can be so perfectly undercooked and overcooked at the same time. "Impressive," he says, passing the spork back. "Is that freezer burn?"
Before Pubert can answer, a bang from the other side of the cafeteria cuts off all other sounds. Steve glances over to see a boy in heavy combat boots climbing onto his table with a mischievous grin. He's wearing a shirt with a devil head on it and "Hellfire Club" emblazoned above and a vest with spikes, pins, and patches. His hair is just below his shoulders and a little curly, and Steve can see from here the wild glint in his eyes as he stomps down the table while talking.
"I'm tired of the double standards of this lame school. If you're into science or band or some other 'uncool' interest, the administration couldn't give two shits! Oh, the choir room needs new risers so the current ones don't break any necks? Well, that's too bad, we've got to give the football team new monogrammed towels for the locker room!" the guy says, grinning when a group of kids to the side shouts their agreement. "And never mind that our Robotics team has won the school three trophies when the basketball team so valiantly scraped into third place last year for being kinda good at throwing balls into laundry baskets."
"Prick!"
Steve glances at the guy who shouted, taking in his letterman jacket before quickly dismissing him. He looks back in time to see the boy on the table sticking out his tongue and holding his hands to his temples to make horns. There's an even wilder look in his eyes now, a sheer glee at causing a scene and getting under someone's skin.
Steve doesn't realize he's smiling until the boy scoffs, shouts one more line about the school's unfair preference for "mediocre jocks," and hops off the table. He looks over at Pubert and asks, "Who was that?"
Pubert glances at Steve, studying him for a moment before swallowing another mouthful of mush and saying, "Eddie Munson. He does that once a week, usually."
"Eddie Munson," Steve murmurs, glancing over at Eddie's table again and smiling a little wider.
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