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#I spent more money on this than I wanna admit
theemporium · 2 months
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[4.1k] as it would turn out, you were serious about your offer. and luke was serious about accepting. it was just going to take a while for his body to remember that this was a glorified business deal between friends and nothing more. and he was definitely okay with that. (smut)
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Stupidly, Luke didn’t think you were actually serious. 
In his head, the whole thing felt like a fever dream, starting from the moment he spilled his drink all over you leading to the moment you blatantly asked him if he wanted you to take his virginity. It felt like one of those weird dreams that made you wake up confused and bleary and unsure what year it even was, one of those dreams that linger in the back of your head for a few days before you eventually forgot about it.
Luke would have bet money on the whole thing being a weird dream that was haunting him if it weren’t for the fact he woke up one morning, a few days  after the party, with a message from you on his screen. 
cherry🍒: on a scale from one to ten, how likely are you to spill your drink on me again?
cherry🍒: also my place or yours? 
He stared at the messages for an embarrassingly long time, like he was staring at the proof the whole thing wasn’t some messed up dream in his head. Luke had spent the better part of the summer wondering what would have happened if he had asked for your number that night like Jack always teased him about, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself with it being a reality. 
hockey boy: i cannot promise anything 
hockey boy: you are welcome to come to my place but jack will probably be here so…
hockey boy: he’s nosy 
hockey boy: and annoying 
Luke frowned at himself, finger hovering over the messages like he would have a chance to delete them before you saw them, all one after the other like he was twelve and didn’t care about double texting. Or quadruple texting. But before he could even try to hide his own embarrassment, you were typing again.
cherry🍒: my place it is then
cherry🍒: see you at seven ;)
He also didn’t care to admit how long he stared at that message before he dragged himself out of bed, trying to ignore the odd buzz itching under his skin. It wasn’t even nine in the morning and his head was already spinning.
Luke was thankful enough that it was still preseason, that there wasn’t a game he had to prepare for because he wasn’t even sure he could concentrate on anything but your messages. He had noted Jack giving him odd looks whilst they both got ready for training, giving him more space than usual as they moved around the flat (which was odd considering Jack was usually glued to his side and pissing him off whenever he got the chance). 
However, the overbearing older brother role didn’t completely disappear. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” 
“Yes, Jack.”
“You’re not sick or anything?”
“I’m literally fine.” 
“Because we can tell the trainers—”
“Oh my god, dude,” Luke groaned, sinking further into the passenger seat as he shot his brother a look. “I’m fine. Calm down. You sound like Quinn.” 
“Sorry for caring,” Jack retorted, his fingers tightening on the wheel before his shoulders sagged. “I’m your older brother and it’s your first year in the NHL. I just wanna make sure you’re doing alright, okay? The last thing I want is you having a shit rookie year.”
But the rest went unsaid. I don’t want you having a shit rookie year like I did.
Luke softened a little. “M’fine, promise. I’ll let you know when I need my big brother, okay?” 
Jack sighed, a small smile on his face. “Okay.”
“Now, can you please shut up so I can sleep until we reach the rink?” 
Jack snorted in response. 
Though the conversation seemed to settle the worries his older brother had, Luke knew the other boys on the team were giving him the same looks of concern. It wasn’t as though he was playing badly, it was just very clear to everyone on the team—players, coaches and trainers alike—that Luke was distracted. 
He had half the decency to be a little embarrassed when he overheard Jack reassure a few trainers that it was just rookie nerves. 
But he felt restless, like he couldn’t quite keep still or focus on one thing. He felt like there was a buzz resonating through his bones, making him painfully aware of his plans later tonight. It was like an anxiety settled at the pit of his stomach, constant and foreboding and eating away at him as the minutes slowly dragged on through the day. 
It was horrible and exhilirating in the weirdest possible way.
Luke had managed to make it through the rest of training, managed to avoid any stern talkings from the coach but unable to avoid the one from Nico in the locker room. It was sweet and awkward all at once, especially when the rest of the team were clearly listening in to make sure one of the new rookies were doing fine. The Devils were like a family and usually he would appreciate it. 
However, he wasn’t exactly going to dive into the fact he was unfocused because a pretty girl offered to take his virginity to his captain or the rest of the team. He didn’t even want to imagine how that would have played out. 
But it was sweet to know the team had his back, that they saw him as his own person rather than just Jack’s little brother who was tagging along.
Luke was relieved when you had mentioned him coming over to your place for your meeting later that day. Yet, what he failed to take into consideration was the fact his brother would still be a nosy shit on his whereabouts. 
“Where the fuck are you going?” 
Luke froze, keys gripped in his one hand and his phone in the other with your address already typed into Google Maps. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore his pounding heart as he turned to Jack with a (hopefully) nonchalant look on his face.
“Just going to hang out with some friends,” he replied vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders.
Jack paused, the spoonful of rice hovering just above his plate as he narrowed his eyes at Luke. “Is Nico hosting some rookie thing or something?”
“Uh no,” Luke cleared his throat.
Jack frowned. “Is there a team thing happening tonight that I forgot?” 
“No, uh,” Luke shuffled awkwardly, feeling like an interrogation spotlight was shining on him. “It’s nothing with the team.”
Jack raised his brows. “But you don’t have other friends outside the team.” 
Luke frowned. “Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t,” Jack retorted. “Unless you’re a part of a book club or something.” 
He shot his brother a confused look. “Why would that be the only reason I have friends outside of the team?”
“I don’t know, college and shit,” Jack answered like that explained something.
“You’re such a weirdo,” Luke grumbled before he turned on his heel, making his way towards the door again. 
“Are you at least gonna tell me when you’ll be back?” Jack called out to him, a hint of older brother overbearingness in his voice. 
“Not sure.” 
“I—” He heard Jack shuffle to stand up, his dinner now abandoned on the coffee table as he made his way over to Luke. The look of concern from earlier that morning was back on his face. “What dodgy shit are you up to that you can’t just tell me?” 
“Jack,” Luke groaned, his voice tilting towards whiny as he let out a huff of annoyance. “I’m just going out to see a friend. Nothing dodgy, I promise.”
Jack didn’t say anything at first, just letting a slow smile spread across his face.
He frowned. “What?” 
“Friend, singular,” Jack pointed out before he let out a bark of laughter, playfully punching his little brother’s arm. “Aw, little Lukey is sneaking out to hook up with a girl!”
His cheeks burned. “Shut up.”
“Fucking finally, I thought you were going celibate for your rookie year or something!” Jack continued to tease him. “Who is it? Do I know her? Oh my god, is it the girl from the party? Do you have a secret girlfriend?”
“I am leaving now!” Luke shoved him away, making a beeline for the door as Jack continued to cackle behind him. 
“Do I need to give you a curfew?” 
“Fuck off!” 
He could still hear Jack laughing when he slammed the door shut behind him.
His body felt like it was on autopilot once he got behind the wheel. He followed the instructions spoken through his GPS, kept his concentration on the road—on the journey—rather than the destination. He tried to pretend like he was just going to hang out at a friend’s, that he was back in Michigan going to one of his teammate’s houses he didn’t live with. 
It was fine. 
Everything was fine.
Except for the fact that once he reached your door, closed fist hovering over the wood, he felt like his body was buzzing too fast to keep up with and all the pent up anxiety over the day was about to make him explode. 
He didn’t even realise he had knocked until the door swung open and you stood on the other side, grinning at him like it was a normal Sunday evening. You were dressed cosy, casual even. Just a pair of leggings, a baggy shirt and some fluffy socks that had—ironically enough—cherries printed on them.
“You’re early,” you noted. 
Luke’s stomach dropped a little. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”
“I like my men eager, you’re fine,” you said as you waved him off, unaware of the fact your words just made his body feel like it was on fire for a whole other reason as you grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. 
His eyes wandered over your apartment, taking in the small knick knacks that decorated the place. It was smaller than his and Jack’s apartment, but it felt more homely. His place had a habit of looking a little clinical, like a showroom they had moved into rather than an actual home. But between training and travelling and not really caring, neither he nor Jack had bothered to change it. 
But, looking around at the small details of your apartment as you led him towards your living room couch, Luke found it endearing that he could see small insights into your personality.
“You still like Coke, right?” 
His eyes snapped back to you, a light blush on his cheeks when he found you staring at him with intent. “Uh yeah, Coke is good.” 
He settled down on the seat, awkwardly perched on the edge whilst you curled up in the sport next to him with your feet tucked underneath him. He tried to swallow the ball in the back of his throat, eyes wandering over the room once again before they landed back on you. 
“Your place is really nice—”
“Tell me about hockey.” 
Luke blinked. And then blinked one more time before he remembered to speak.
“What?”
“Tell me about hockey,” you repeated. 
“You want to know about hockey?” He questioned, his brows furrowed together and suddenly the panic he felt moments ago was overwhelmed by his confusion. 
“Well, no, I don’t really know anything about it,” you admitted with a shrug. “But you’re so tense over there like you’re about to enter the Hunger Games or something, I thought talking about something you enjoy would help you relax.” 
Something in his chest stirred at your confession. “Oh.” 
“Just relax,” you said as you lightly pushed him back until he was no longer sat on the edge of the couch. However, Luke’s body didn’t seem to catch the hint, something that was very clear with how tense he still looked sitting next to you. “We aren’t going to do anything tonight,” you assured him, your hand dropping to his forearm to give it a small squeeze. 
He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed. “We aren’t?”
You shook your head, a soft but cheeky smile on your lips. “You need to build up your confidence a little, to really feel comfortable with everything. There’s more to sex than just sleeping with someone.”
He blinked. “There is?”
“Yes,” you laughed, but it wasn’t directed at him. He didn’t feel dumb for asking you questions. “So just take a breath and relax. Now, hockey—what’s the big deal?” 
Luke couldn’t help but snort. “The big deal?”
“Yeah, why do you like it?” You asked. “I mean, you love it enough to make it your job.” 
Luke smiled and there was something less heavy in his laugh—but hockey always tended to have that power over him. He knew hockey. He lived for hockey. It was as calming as it was exhilarating. It was what his whole world revolved around since the day he was born. 
“I come from a big hockey family,” Luke told you. “I could skate before I could properly walk, to be honest. It’s just something that’s always…been there. I couldn’t imagine my life without it.” 
“Do you enjoy it?” 
Luke raised his brows in surprise. “No, I just do it to torture myself.”
“Okay, smart-ass,” you rolled your eyes at the boy, and he tried not to think about how endearing the action was. “I mean, you said it’s been in your life forever. Do you enjoy it or is it just familiar?”
There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation before he answered.
“I love it,” he replied honestly, sinking a little further into the couch as he turned his head to look at you. “It was always there but I also always sought it out, you know? I wanted hockey as much as hockey wanted me.” 
“Lucky thing you were good enough to go pro, huh?” You remarked, a teasing glint in your words. 
Luke’s lips twitched upwards. “Yeah, lucky me.”
“So, do you, like, fight people and shit?” 
He snorted, the noise a little surprising but welcomed nonetheless. “Yeah, sometimes.” 
“Damn, the two hockey videos I watched before you came weren’t lying then,” you mused. 
And, fuck, his chest was doing that funny-tightening thing again. 
“You watched some videos before I came?”
“Colour me curious,” you answered with a casual shrug of your shoulders.
He swallowed. “Did you like what you saw?” 
Your lips pulled upwards into a smirk. “Flirting with me now, Hughes?” 
In an instant, Luke’s cheeks instantly burned a red shade with a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness washing over him. “I’m sorry about that—”
“I never said I didn’t like it,” you interrupted, watching as his eyes widened a little in surprise. But the colour remained on his cheeks. It was cute, if you were being honest with yourself.
“Oh?”
“You’re not a shy guy, Luke, I’ve seen the way you are on the ice. You just need to bring that confidence off the ice too,” you told him, shuffling a little closer to him until your knee was almost brushing his thigh. “Think of this…what we are doing…as your training.” 
“My training?” 
“Mhm,” you nodded as your palm landed on his thigh, right above his knee. He was so painfully aware of your hand, of the way your touch felt like it was burning through the fabric of his sweatpants to touch his skin. “Gonna help you go pro.” 
His eyes darted down to your hand before it snapped back to your face. “Cherry—” 
“Can I kiss you?” 
He blinked. “You’re asking me?” 
“It’s sexy to ask,” you told him, your thumb lightly rubbing a small line just above his knee. You shifted a bit closer, watching the way his eyelids fluttered slightly. “Consent is really, really sexy.” 
“Really sexy,” he repeated, eyes locked in on your lips. 
“Can I kiss you?” You asked again, squeezing his leg a little to emphasise your need for him to verbally answer. 
“Yeah,” he managed to mutter out, a slight crack in his voice but you didn’t seem to care as you closed the distance between you.
Your palm was soft and warm against his cheek, guiding his head until you pressed your lips against his. It was a soft kiss, almost sweet in a way. And maybe something about the tenderness of it all washed away the unease in his chest, that lingering anxiety that he had been smothered in since he woke up. It was like the kiss washed away the lingering concerns in his head, the ones that told him this was some twisted dream or malicious ploy.
You just wanted to help, you wanted him relaxed when he was with you. 
And Luke had half the mind to trust you would do just that after the initial kiss. 
Your thumb slightly swept along the high of his cheekbone, soft and reassuring as he sunk further into the kiss. He seemed happy to let you take control, to let you decide how fast or passionate it was. He seemed happy to just follow. 
“Better than hockey training?” You murmured against his lips between kisses, the light smacking noises a vague echo in his ear but he didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.
“Mhm,” he hummed as he ducked his head back down, eager to press his lips against yours again. 
“Impatient,” you teased but didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. “Feeling confident already, Hughes?” 
Luke could feel your smile against his lips. “Maybe.” 
“Good,” you stated simply and before he got the chance to realise what you were doing, before his brain had even fully processed you had asked him a question, your leg was thrown over his body and you were straddling his lap.
Luke pulled back a little, looking up at you with his cheeks flushed. “Oh.” 
“Remember, this is just your training,” you reassured the boy, though it was hard for him to focus on the words coming out of your mouth when your lips were red and kiss-swollen and probably a mirror image of his own. “Just practise, yeah?”
“Just practise,” he confirmed with a nod. 
“So practise,” you told him as you reached for his hands where they awkwardly hung at his side. You gripped his wrists, giving them a small squeeze before you rested them on your waist.
He swallowed. “Oh.” 
You raised your brows. “This good?” 
“Mhm,” he nodded.
“Luke,” you prompted until his glossy eyes found yours. “We can stop any time you want. Just say the word, okay?” 
“I don’t wanna stop,” he reassured you, his hands giving a testing squeeze on your waist. “Not right now, at least. Promise.” 
And when you smiled at him, he could have sworn his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. 
His chest was thudding with each racing beat, blood roaring in his ears and butterflies exploding in his fucking chest when you leaned down to kiss him again. It’s like his brain was locked in on you at this very moment, not a care or concept for the world beyond this apartment. It was just about you, you, you.
And then your hands were pushing through his hair, fingers tangled in his curls as you tugged his head back until the column of his neck was exposed to you. 
Luke was almost embarrassed of the whimpering noise that left his lips when you tugged on his curls, a dull but desirable pain coursing through his whole body before your lips explored his neck. His breathing was heavy, borderline panting as your teeth scraped along the sensitive spot just below his ear. And, fuck, he felt like his whole body was on fire. 
“Hmmm, pretty noises,” you murmured against his neck, wet and sloppy open-mouthed kisses pressed against his skin as his body squirmed beneath you. “You gonna keep making them for me, baby?”
He nodded.
“Yeah?” You nipped his skin lightly, almost teasingly, as his hips bucked up on instinct. “Keep moaning f’me, baby, let’s see what you like.”
His grip on your waist only tightened as you continued to explore his body, as you tried to find the spots that had him whining and panting beneath you. And just when Luke thought he had a hold on himself, when he could handle the way your hands felt in his hair and your lips on his neck, your hips slowly rolled down against his and he could feel a rush of pleasure race down his spine.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he choked out between broken moans, head thrown back against the back of the couch and eyes clenched shut. “Please. More.”
“You want more?” Your warm breath fanned against his cheek as you lifted your head, hooded eyes watching the way his face scrunched up in pleasure as you continued to rock against him. “Keep making those pretty noises, baby.” 
The whimper he let out made his cheeks and neck burn bright red. 
“Look at you,” you mused, the bulge in his sweatpants pressed against you as you continued to grind down on his lap. “Doing so well for me, telling me what you want.”
And it was too much. 
The constant stream of praise leaving your lips, the way your face was inches away from him—even if his eyes were shut—with your breath hot against his cheek. The way your hips rocked against his hard cock, the way it was straining beneath the boxers he was wearing. The way your fingers gave another experimental tug on his curls and he saw white. 
His grip on your waist was almost bruising with how tight it was, the way he held onto you as his hips bucked to meet your thrusts, the way your name left his lips on a loop as a hot flush of pleasure washed over his body, as you guided him through it. 
And once his brain had caught up—once he was sure his heart wasn’t going to jump out of his chest—he was painfully aware of the sticky mess in his sweatpants. 
“Oh my god,” he muttered, his whole body burning with embarrassment as he looked up at you. “I am so sorry—” 
“For what?” 
“I—” His eyes fell shut, his body wanting nothing more than to curl in on himself. “I’m sorry, that was embarrassing.” 
You frowned. “What was? The fact you came?” 
His stomach twisted a little.
“Luke,” you murmured, and he could feel your hands cupping his warm cheeks but he didn’t have the courage to open his eyes just yet. “If I didn’t want you to come, I wouldn’t have been grinding on your dick like that.” 
He finally looked at you, but the hot shame remained. “You didn’t even…” 
“Get off?” You supplied and he looked sheepish as he nodded. “I can still enjoy something and find it hot without getting off, Hughes.”
His brows furrowed together. “I thought the whole point was that you were teaching me how to make you feel good. For womankind.” 
You snorted, grinning down at the boy. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get off too.”
Luke’s lips parted with a silent ‘oh’.
“I’ll grab you some sweatpants to change into,” you told him as you shifted off his lap, looking down at his flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. “You’re a good student, Hughes.”
He raised his brows. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you grinned back at him, and his chest did that funny thing again. “And I wasn’t lying. You make pretty noises. I like my boys vocal.” 
And Luke was thankful you disappeared down the corridor after that, saving him from even attempting to come up with a response. 
And he was shocked that once he cleaned up as best he could in your bathroom, you patted the spot next to you on the couch and told him to choose a movie whilst you ordered in some food. 
It was almost laughable to think about how anxious he had been all day, only to lead up to him sharing a pizza with you with some old Jim Carey comedy playing in the background like you two really were just friends. Like you were just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Like you hadn’t just made him come in his pants like he was some wound up teenage boy. 
It made his head spin, in a good way. 
And when he was dragging his feet through the front door of his apartment a little after midnight, there was a voice in the back of his head that was telling him this was risky, that he shouldn’t have felt so giddy or jovial after he had seen you. 
You were just training him, helping him. You were just his friend. 
But, for right now, Luke was happy to ignore the logical voice in the back of his head and instead focus on the fact that maybe—just fucking maybe—you were right and this whole virginity thing was far more bigged up in his head than he realised. 
You were his friend. And he knew you were just his friend. 
Who cares if his body took a little longer to remember than his brain did?
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kithtaehyung · 7 months
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mami (m) | myg/knj
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title: mami (m) pairing: myg x reader(f) , knj x reader(f) , slight jhs x reader(f)😛 rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; battle rap au , roommates au summary: you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date. note: heavy 00s vibes, this is just the beginning of a collection of parts instead of just a oneshot let’s fucking goooo🦋 note 2: this is pretty unedited lolll if there are mistakes i'm so so sorry! warnings for this part: language, choking, joon in sweats, bathroom s*x, b*ckshots, friendly sp*nks from your roomie🤪, it uhhh starts right out the gate lmfao, hobi in silk and a robe, yoongi is a warning in his own right, light sl*pping, you get called mamiii😗 so if that’s not ur thing i’d skip this series !!, joon is too smooth, a secret fourth guy lmfaoooo, battle rap scenarios! drop date: september 26th, 2023, 10:07pm est word count: 3.7k  mood: here 
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“You like that, huh?” 
Breath short, you can only gasp as the hands you’ve been eyeing all night clutch your throat, a fiendish hum the first response to your satisfied grin.
“Knew you would.” As your delicious captor speaks, you just know he’s fixated on your makeup—at least, the way it’s smearing onto a bathroom mirror that has seen better days. “You all do.” 
Fuck, he knows what he’s doing. Fucking hell, he always knows.
Your lust condenses and slides down the glass in rivers, and with each experienced thrust inside your folds, it’s getting harder, and harder, and harder to see the man wrecking your shit. 
But it’s coming. The end. The coil inside you is screaming and tightening and you know he can feel every potent pulse as you slap the tiny counter with a palm. “Yoongi—”
“You gonna come, mami?” 
Yes yes yes you really fucking are. It’s so truthful that you can’t even voice your agreement in words, your moans higher and higher in pitch the only tell you can possibly give. 
“Then fucking do it.” 
Light bounces from your eyes and rebounds off the mirror the same time your whine does, every limb locking while bare shoulders bang against your reflection. 
“Fuck.” 
You spring right into the ground floor above, eyes rolling so far back you could probably see the way Yoongi’s smirking at your ass if your dumbfounded mush of a brain wasn’t in the way. 
Again, and again, you milk his cock for all it’s worth, spurning him into gripping your bouncing hips with rough hands and faster strokes. Laughs and conversations seep through the door at your side, but you can’t make out a thing as you garble, 
“Yoongi, please—”
“One more.” 
“I can’t—”
“Don’t play dumb,” he tuts. “You won’t hustle me a second time.” 
Busted. 
Your pout quickly stretches into a devilish curve instead, and you hear his sound of approval before you brag, 
“I spent all that already, by the way.” 
Air whizzes past your ears as you’re hoisted upwards, and your mirth reverberates as you’re spun and shoved into the sink, cheap laminate bruising your back. 
Yoongi must also be remembering the time your pussy sucked the soul out of him. After you both made a bet that you couldn’t beat someone’s record time making him come. 
You won half of his prize money that night. 
And that was the night he won the entire thing. 
“You’re lucky I respect it,” he snarls, sweaty fingers gripping your chin as he slings a leg over his pelvis. When he grins, you wanna lick the white off his teeth. “And you’re lucky I made it back the next night.” 
Oh, shit. Did he really? 
Battle rap events usually stack so that everyone gets a chance. How did he get invited back the same weekend? 
Well, other than being a monster on the mic. There’s a reason you can’t stay away from him, and you may or may not admit you get turned on by how effortlessly ruthless he is. 
Lips smushed, you ask with genuine curiosity, “You won again?” 
Yoongi lightly smacks your cheek, chuckling when you grit out a moan. “Nah. The sponsors loved me,” he claims, finally bringing a hand down to guide himself back inside. “So they paid me to come back.” 
“Sick,” you praise through a grunt, fully catching his eyes for the first time tonight. Pushing past the way he fills you so fantastically, you huff out, “That doesn’t happen on south side.” 
“So I’ve heard.” 
“Yeah, apparently west and east side do it a lot. Especially with that guy Randa—”
“Fuck Randa.”
Ah, so Yoongi knows him? You haven’t ventured into the west scene yet, but the one thing you know about it is that dude’s name.
So he must be a beast.
Especially if Gloss himself had some choice words.
At this little slip of emotion, you don’t hide your smirk at all. “Oh? Maybe I will if that’s how you feel.”
The sudden possessive shove of his cock into your folds is delightful, your high giggle pinging off the bathroom walls.
“Fuck whoever you want, princess,” he chides right against your lips. “You’ll always come back to me.” 
“Duh.” You flick your tongue over his plush. “You wouldn’t last a week without me anyway.”
Yoongi pushes into you again, stare heavy and coaxing butterflies from your belly. “I’d manage.”
“As if.”
But even through the pleasure, you still wonder. How are you both having a regular conversation right now? This never happens with him. You’ve wanted it to, but there simply hasn’t been any talk when he’s involved. 
The high from your orgasm compounds with this strange feeling that you turn a little playful.
“What I meant was…” Fingernail poking his tank, you joke with a sly curve, “Guess you must be like, good or whatever.” 
When he looks down, you childishly swoop your finger up to bump his nose. “Ha. Loser.” 
Predictably, Yoongi pauses before only his eyes raise, suppressed emotions hiding behind long dark strands. “Really.” 
And even though you felt him twitch in your core, you’ll spare him. “I don’t make the rules.” 
You think this is when he’ll start ramming into you again, because none of the times you’ve hooked up ever lasted this long. It’s always been quick with him, and never in any other place other than bathrooms or broom closets. 
Which isn’t bad. Just a pattern you’ve noticed. 
But Yoongi huffs in amusement before shaking his head. “Since when were you this weird?” 
“Wow, rude?” Your scoff is full of mock annoyance. “I’ve always been this way.” 
It’s just that no one’s taken the time to get to know you.
“But you’re so…” 
All they care about is one thing. 
Which, granted, is the same in your case. 
It just gets a bit lonely sometimes. 
Offering to finish for him to stiff arm any more incoming awkwardness, you blurt, “Hot? Slutty?” 
“Fast.” 
Oh. 
Did you both just assume the other person wanted it over and done with?
That’s entirely possible considering the first time it happened lasted a grand total of three minutes. Max.
“I mean…” You lean back on your palms, not caring to adjust your very mussed top because your chest finally snags all of Yoongi’s attention. How he’s still hard inside of you is a complete mystery. “I don’t just fuck, you know.” 
“And here I thought we were similar,” he teases, groaning through his teeth when you roll on his dick. Again. 
And again. 
Of course you’re both similar. The only difference is that people dub this guy a sex god and you’re an easy lay. 
But you won’t get into that with him. Not now and probably not ever since you don’t dare even label Yoongi a friend.
Panting, you observe him watching your movements as you switch the subject, “You fucked that one sponsor chick for the invite, huh.” 
And he takes the out hilariously quick,
“Both of them.” 
Of course. Your head kicks back in laughter, remembering that there were two people running the event instead of one. 
Truthfully, you would’ve paid to see that. 
“Can’t stand you,” you lie, the way you chuckle as he slaps one of your tits saying otherwise. 
“Good.” 
As he rubs a rough thumb over a nipple, an announcement blares over deejay scratches and cheers, tugging both of your eyes to the door.
Before things quickly devolve into how they always go.
When you arch forward, his lips devour your breast; when you rock your hips into his, the groans against your chest make you feel alive. 
Your nails claw through his hair before you can’t decide if you wanna rake them through his shoulders or his neck. Here, there, everywhere you can grab, you take hold. 
Suddenly, Yoongi clutches the top of your skirt before thrusting in hard, and his laugh when you whine out a curse strikes your soul. “It’s better that way.” 
It’s always better that way. 
“Agreed,” you murmur, eyes flickering to the janky ceiling before sighing out, “I think they just said your name.” 
“Mm.” 
He plunges into you so hard you see his impish curve imprinted among the stars. 
“Then hurry up, mami. Gimme one more for luck.” 
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MAMI 
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“Who’s on the menu tonight?”
You hum while peering into your mirror—a much cleaner, brighter mirror than the one you were pressed against a couple weeks ago. “That nice guy I’ve been seeing at the gym.” 
“Wait, what? Are you going on a date date?” 
“Hobi,” you giggle, loving your roommate very much despite the way he just forgets sometimes. “We went through this already.” 
“So… Is that a yes, or.” His laugh blurts out when you throw a middle finger next to your head. “Okay, okay! You can just say it, you know.” 
“I just”—you spot check your makeup before vacating your vanity stool—“You know me. I never do dates.” 
As Hobi leans back on your bed, the way his hot pink robe matches your comforter makes you highly amused. Almost amused enough that you don’t react to his nosy question, 
“Nervous?”
Extremely. 
“Uhm,” you start, all pretenses dropping at the sight of his cocked brow. “A bit.” 
Springing up, your roommate pads over and rests thin palms over even thinner straps of your sundress. 
“What’s got you nervous, love?” 
Pouting, you look out your window before your chin is gently swiveled back forward. Thankful for his insistence, you confess to the only guy that you feel like you can trust, 
“What if I like him?” 
The laugh you get is full of disbelief and pity. “That’s what you’re worried about? Really?” 
When you nod, he chuckles again, but it’s smaller. And more understanding than the first. 
“Pathetic, right.” 
“No, no no,” Hobi starts, sliding his hands down to warm your biceps before squeezing. When he pauses, his expression gives his thoughts away before he can utter them. “Well, a little.” 
“Hoseok.” 
“But! Only because you’re making it seem that way.” He squeezes again before sitting back down on your bed. “If you just let things happen without thinking, isn’t that better?”
Does he really have to flop down to rest his head on his palms? Now? 
Talk about not thinking. 
Whatever. You didn’t expect Hoseok to do that, but he looks hot, so you’ll let it slide. 
And you don’t shy away from his silk-covered package before retorting, “Says you.” 
“Me? I overthink. That’s different.” 
“How!” 
“Don’t think about it.” 
When he winks, you both laugh, and his grin slowly devolves into a smirk before he motions you over with a mere head cock.
And you gladly oblige. 
Because your dynamic with Hobi still hasn’t changed. 
Slowly, you arrive at his knees before mounting the bed at his hips, being steadied over his pelvis as he keeps his prone position. 
“You look hot as fuck, you know.” 
“Mmhmm.” 
“He’s gonna like you for sure.” 
“Naturally.” 
“So what if you end up liking him, too?” 
As he smoothes a hand over the side of your ass, you purse your lips in thought. “Uhh… Feelings? I guess?”
“You can have those, babe.” 
“Not mine,” you correct, knowing yours are too fucked up to share with anyone. Which is exactly why you’re all for the so-called fast title that Yoongi clipped onto your persona. “His.” 
Does the lifestyle you chose come with regrets? Yeah. Complications? Also yes. But at least those hurt less than the regrets and complications actual relationships come with. 
You’re just fine with how things are. 
Which is why you’re scared about seeing Namjoon, because he seems like the type that wants something steady. If you end up liking him, you’re gonna have to choose between options that are vastly different in color. 
Despite all that, you still said yes when he asked you out at the gym last week—while you were drenched, bare-faced, and wincing from the last set you completed to failure. 
Why did you say yes anyway? What drew you in to this guy? 
“If you’re scared of hurting his feelings, then just tell him straight-up,” Hobi advises, pulling you back to the present. “Guys won’t know shit unless you spell it out.” 
Looking down at his perfect features, you fake disbelief, asking the most rhetorical question in existence, “You mean you can’t just read our minds?”
“Baby, we can’t even figure out our own, let alone yours.” 
“You said it.” Fully reassured, you rest on Hoseok’s chest, careful to not smudge your face on his clothes. “…Pity fuck if the date goes wrong?”
“Of course.” 
Your chuckle is soft. “Thank you.” 
“Now get up,” he orders, smacking your ass so perfectly that it offends you. “Before I give you another necklace.” 
“Hoseok!” When his cackles follow you up as you stand, your jaw cannot hinge back in. “Goddamn, you’re bad.” 
“Not as bad as you,” he says, following you out of your room. “Mami.” 
That goddamn nickname. 
Hobi knows it’s a common term. And he knows it’s one you hear from multiple people, especially on south side. Literally nothing new or groundbreaking.
But he also knows it makes you unwell because of one specific person. Because you confessed that you didn’t expect it from them during a fuck and it made you weak in the knees. 
Which caused the same motherfucker to say it over, and over, and over again.
Fucking Yoongi. 
Why the hell is it only potent when he says it?
The psychology of that needs to be studied yet you will completely refuse to be a subject. 
After checking to make sure you have everything, you fish out your phone to double-check the address before calling a ride. 
“Where is it at?”
“Some restaurant on west side.”
“Damn, all the way over there?”
“I’m okay with it,” you assure him, inwardly wincing at the cost on your screen. 
Virtually anything on west side is far from your condo, but that’s partly why you’re alright with going. As much as you get around, you don’t prefer taking people back to your place. 
Besides. No one needs to know where you live unless you really fuck with them.
And it’s only happened twice.
Hoseok’s unconvinced reply cuts your thoughts in two,
“Alright… Well. Lemme know if you end up somewhere else tonight.” 
Smiling, you offer him a warm look, positive that his lean against the kitchen wall would put models to shame. “I always do.” 
“What did I say earlier?” 
“Spell it out for him.”
“Okay, good.” 
When you grin, he does, too. 
And you hope this Namjoon guy at least does well with words. 
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Turns out, he does a fucking splendid job with them.
At least, the things this man is saying has you absolutely melting under dim lights, and you haven’t even gotten your drinks yet. 
“You look damn nice tonight, by the way,” he mentions with a dip of his head, fiddling with his napkin and giving you an upsettingly perfect view of his fingers. “I feel underdressed as hell.”
Underdressed? Looking around, you feel like you’re the one that dressed way too formal and you’re in a damn sundress.
You should’ve known, though. The restaurant that Namjoon chose occupies one of the few streets known for its laid-back, easy-going fare. Even you have heard of its unique charm and you reside quite a ways away. 
Before you respond, you remember how you arrived, checking around the small space before spotting him in a booth. And while you loved the lax way he dressed, you were even more charmed when he got out just to greet you with a cheek kiss. 
And the night has been so pleasant that you forget to be worried. 
“Why? I mean, thank you, but why?” 
Namjoon gives his sweatpants-covered thighs a glance. “I dunno. You just look bossed up and I’m like, your errand boy.” 
Your mirthy disbelief leaks out of your grin before he can finish. Watching a nearby table point at their menus to order, you go along with his compliments,
“I mean, I could use an assistant…”
He only smiles at his hands. “Order me around anytime.” 
Cute. 
Maybe that’s why you’re drawn to this guy. 
Even though he’s huge and can lift like a motherfucker, there’s a soft side that he’s got no shame showing. 
Also, as the night goes on, you quickly discover more traits you rarely come across. 
Curious, suave, humble—all of them surprise you in the best way. He’s already let you talk much more than he has, and the two of you have debated on not one, but three topics. Including one that you would have left his ass for if you both weren’t on the same page. 
“Okay, so we agree.”
“Yes,” he responds in relief. “Definitely would’ve rethought this whole thing if we didn’t.”
“Uhh, yeah, because I would’ve walked out and let you pay for everything.” 
“Damn!” Fuck, his grin is charming. “And I would’ve paid it, too.” 
Laughing—and realizing that you’re doing that a lot tonight—you rest a hand on his shoulder, “No, no, I wouldn’t do that to you.” 
Fuck, he’s solid.
“Wait, I’m getting us this time, though.”
“Yeah?”
Holding a round glass up to his lips, he coolly adds, 
“And next time, too.” 
Well. 
There’s no way you’re saying no to that.
“To next time,” you offer, clinking cups and taking a nice sip of your wine. 
Things end with both of you just having dinner—a concept so foreign that it makes you wonder if he wanted something more than a second date. 
But judging by the times he kept stealing glances and the way his curve stayed at a slant, it’s an open and shut case.
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It’s always a bit crowded in the front few rows, so it doesn’t bother you to hang back for the first time in awhile. 
Besides, you’re a little late from your date anyway. 
Since nothing else happened with Namjoon—he had to leave pretty quick—you determined that you could make it to another Gloss smackdown. 
After you greet all the people and bodyguards hanging around the front doors, you arrive downstairs just in time to hear the deejay ushering everyone in. 
And based on what you hear, it seems like Yijeong’s got extra volume in his mic tonight. 
“Alright, alright, let’s give it up for our two up here, yeah?”
Everyone cheers as you clap to yourself, leaning against a chilly column and ignoring the stares your outfit gets.
The stage looks quite different from back here, with its huddled occupants talking amongst themselves. While you watch both crews laughing and standing around, you wonder what it would be like to support Yoongi from up there instead of on the ground. 
You really would if he wanted you to.
“I don’t have to introduce either one but I’m gonna do it anyway. Cus that’s the rules or whatever and they both deserve some love. Give it up for my man K Shine!”
You aren’t familiar with him but you support anyway. A tiny whoop leaves your mouth as a big portion of the room shouts, and you watch as the guy nods to the people that came to see him. 
“Oh, we’re showing out, okay. Alright, now let’s hear it for my guy Gloss!” 
In contrast, your energy evolves tenfold, and you gladly yell with the rest of the floor as Yoongi stays piercing the ground at his feet.
This guy. 
Still the same routine.
You always muse that he could look into the crowd once in awhile, especially since his audience is steadily growing. 
If they ever saw his smile, maybe more people would be drawn in wait is he looking up this time? 
Wait.
Despite there being rows and rows between you and the stage, you don’t miss the slight shift in his demeanor. It almost looks like he’s scanning the people in front. 
What’s he doing? Is he looking for something? Someone? 
…He’s not looking for you, is he? 
You’re there quite often and always in the same area, but you didn’t think Yoongi would really notice or be checking for you right now.
…But is he? 
Before you can think any further, the quick blares of an airhorn shove your thoughts away. 
“K Shine, you win the toss,” the middle man on stage announces. Fuck, you think you’d know his name by now, he’s been here a lot ever since the first guy disappeared. “What you got.” 
When the man answers, he stares right at Yoongi’s hooded head, fire flaring up the walls already,
“Mister Big House, Big Car, Big Rings can go first.” 
Oh.
He—
You really fucking regret not being in the front now.
Immediately, the whole room ooh’s, with the middle man pursing his lips and giving the two opponents space. 
Light illuminates the whole stage as both sides back up a bit, heavy cameras set to roll and some feedback ringing through the musty air. 
And you wait with bated breath as the crowd goes quiet. 
Heart stilling as Yoongi holds a mic right up to his lips.
tbc :))) 
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so.. what do we think lmaooo 🦋 | join the taglist :D
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a/n: thank you all for reading! as i don't have too much time to spend on fics nowadays, i'll be heavily considering feedback and excitement around fics to determine what to work on. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.
a/n 2: all the names i’m gonna include that aren’t the members (or yijeong lol) are real life battle rappers! k-shine was one of the first ones i ever watched, and he has good aggressive delivery and performance but not too many heavy hitters. anybody i namedrop will have rap battles linked, so here is one of k-shine’s that i remember from back in the day. battle rap is an art form in itself, and i would like to showcase these talented individuals whenever i can.
++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist 
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲
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pairing: dealer!rafe x fem!pogue!reader
summary: ❝i got you where i want you, you’re deader than ever, and falling for forever.❞ — a deal gone wrong leads to you and rafe being stuck in the same room together.
warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity (kinda), playful banter, bickering, mild slut shaming, mentions of drugs, dealing of drugs, mentions of violence, dirty talk, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, baby trapping threats, finger sucking, slight degradation, slapping, cream pie
word count: 2.7k
a/n: series masterlist
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“i need the both of you to just calm down, alright?” barry stepped between you and rafe, both of you glaring at each other with a dangerous glint in your eyes. “if he’s in, then i’m out. i’m not gonna work with a fucking kook.” you spat, shoving barry’s hand away. “yeah? well i don’t wanna work with you either, pogue.” rafe shot back. “y’all don’t have a choice a’ight? i can’t go anywhere with this fuckin’ monitor on my ankle, so i need you two to do this deal for me. i’ll double the pay for the inconvenience.” barry cursed under his breath, plopping down on the couch.
rafe gave you a once over, his eyes lingering on your exposed cleavage. “where’d you even find this girl, barry? she looks like a walking felony.” you didn’t miss the way rafe licked his lips before taking a seat. you scoffed, fixing your top. “please, you want to talk about what i’m wearing? what about that collar? what are you, nine?” barry shook his heaad. “yeah, i’m nine in my pants, babe. wanna find out?” rafe leaned back in his chair, chewing on his gum as he looked up at you. “aw, you wish.” you blew him a kiss, rolling your eyes when he blew you one back.
“alright, listen. y’all are gonna meet up with this guy on the south side. let him give you the money first, and then you give him the blow. standard shit.” barry shrugged, handing you the bag with the stuff. “rafe, i already sent you the meeting place, so just come back as soon as you can.” you pulled your mini skirt down as you walked past him, his eyes burning into your skin. “this guy.. is he dangerous?” you turned around, rafe already on your tail. “not really, he knows me, you should be fine.” rafe shooed you out the door, his fingertips skimming your lower back. “watch your hands, asshole.” he laughed, watching your hips sway as you walked to his truck.
“it’s a shame you’re such a bitch, you’re pretty hot.” he started driving away from barry’s trailer. “and you’re not.” you tucked the bag in your side, checking your lip gloss in the mirror. rafe would never admit it out loud, but he loved your snappy attitude. all the girls he encountered were too nice, and too willing to let him do whatever he wanted. he liked a challenge, and you didn’t fail to give him that. “just so you know, i’m doing all the talking when we get there.” you two spent the rest of the ride making smart remarks to one another until finally, the house came into view.
“you stay here, i’ll be right back.” he reached over, eyes flickering down to your lips before grabbing the bag. you watched him walk inside, salivating at the sight of his muscles moving under his shirt. time moved fast, and before you knew it, rafe had already been gone for twenty minutes. “where is he?” you muttered to yourself, glancing at the front door. you don’t know why but you had an awful feeling about this. cursing under your breath, you did the last thing anyone should do, and got off the truck.
making your way up the steps to the front door, you hesitantly knocked, waiting anxiously for someone to answer. sure enough, a guy wearing all black opened the door, two more men behind him. “hi, um- i’m a friend of barry’s, and someone else came in here a while ago, i was wondering if he’s almost done, with the deal i mean.” the guy gave you a once over. “is he your boyfriend or somethin’?” you shook your head immediately.
“god, no! i have somewhere to be and he’s taking long, i just need him to come back already.” you hid your phone in the waistband of your skirt as you stepped in, the sound of the door locking making you turn around. there was no sign of rafe anywhere, and your skin was starting to crawl with the way the whole room stared you down. “you know what.. i’ll just go wait for him the way i was- ow!” you yelped when you felt someone pick you up, their arms practically digging in your ribcage as they dragged you down a dark hallway.
rafe heard you screaming, shooting up from the bed as he fought to open the door. “you’re hurting me!” you cried, whimpering when he threw you into the same room that rafe was in. “you didn’t have to manhandle her, asshole!” he shouted, helping you up from the floor. once you gained your balance, you pushed him away. “you don’t need to do that.” a small flash of hurt passed over rafe’s face as he took a few steps back. “why the fuck did you get off the truck?” he started pacing back and forth, holding his head in his hands.
“you were taking forever, i just wanted to see if you were okay! oh my god, is that a crime?” you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “you push me away when i’m checking on you, but you enter a stranger’s house to make sure i’m alright? how does that work?” he laughed bitterly, a small gasp leaving your lips when you spotted blood on his knuckles. “who knows what they’re gonna do to us now..” he cursed under his breath, making your eyebrows knit in confusion. “what are you talking about?” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.
“barry must’ve given us the wrong bag. they weighed everything after they gave me the money, and they were two kilos short. ‘now they think i’m trying to run a play on them.” he sat down. “after they kicked my ass i told them i came alone and they just put me in here.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated groan emitting from his throat. you stayed silent for a moment. “why did you tell them you were by yourself?” you finally asked. “so that they wouldn’t look in the truck and take you next, but it looks like you saved them the work and did it yourself.” he looked over at you, fully expecting you to shoot back with something sarcastic, but instead he was met with your teary eyes.
“i figured you’d just leave with the truck and tell barry something was up.” you glared at him. “you thought i would just leave you here? i may be a bitch, rafe, but i’m not heartless.” he nodded. “yeah i’m gathering that.” you sniffled, suddenly remembering that you were crying in front of this man. “i’m gonna get us out of here, alright?” you wiped your cheeks, getting up to check the windows. “they’re bolted shut, i already tried.” you groaned, plopping back down on the bed with a sigh. “well i guess it’s a good thing i brought my phone.” you took out the device, tapping on barry’s contact.
rafe looked at you in disbelief, taking the phone from your hands as he pressed it against his ear. “fuck, he’s not answering.” he whispered, calling him once more. “give me it!” you grabbed it, making rafe roll his eyes. “hello?” barry spoke into the receiver. “hey, dickhead, you shorted us and now we’re in deep shit.” rafe shushed you, his eyes widening as the lock on the door started rattling. “you better get us out of this!” you hung up, stuffing the phone in your pocket at the same time one of the guys walked in.
“what are you two huddled up in the corner for?” he arched a brow. rafe cleared his throat. “what? i can’t talk to my girl?” you blinked, flashing the man in black an awkward smile. “look, i don’t care what you do, boss man is trying to figure out a way to get the rest of what he paid for. your guy isn’t the easiest person to get ahold of.” you eyed the gun in the waistband of his belt. “yeah, well you tell ‘boss man’ that we’re just delivering, we don’t have anything to do with the missing blow.” he waved you off, locking the door behind him. rafe’s shoulders fell in relief. “you need to watch that mouth of yours.” rafe grabbed you, backing you up into the wall.
“or what?” he clenched his jaw, the last band of patience he had left, snapping. without warning, he dragged you over to the bed, climbing on top of you as you gazed up at him. “alright, you know what? let’s settle this shit right now. bickering with you was fun the first ten minutes, now it’s just pissing me off. what’s your problem?” the rough material of his jeans scratched against your skin. “one minute you’re insulting me, and then you’re getting down to check on me in the middle of a deal, the next. sounds like you’re having trouble picking a side.” he laughed. “i’m the one having trouble picking a side? i can’t tell if you hate me most of the time or if you want to fuck me.” it was your turn to laugh.
he studied you, letting his eyes wander to where your tits practically spilled out of your top. rafe would be lying if he said he didn’t regularly think of having his way with you, sometimes wishing he could stuff his cock in your mouth to shut you up. “and what if i do?” he ran a hand down your arm, watching as your nipples hardened through your blouse. “you hate me? i hate you too,” you shivered, taking your top off, revealing your bare chest to him, “you want to fuck me? i want to fuck you too.” rafe cursed, the sight of you underneath him, topless and pretty, forever ingrained into his brain.
“i don’t think i should give you what you want.” he cupped your tits, squeezing as hard as he can before rolling your nipples between his fingers. you hissed at the pain, a smile forming on your lips as you palmed him through his pants. “it looks like you want me more than i want you,” you giggled, eyeing the erection in his pants. “how pathetic.” rafe wanted nothing more than to fuck you until you were a crying mess for him, and he wasn’t going to leave from here until that happened. without another word, he yanked you up, flipping you over on your tummy as he pulled your skirt and underwear down in one swift motion.
you gasped, letting out a yelp when his hand came down and smacked your ass. he kicked your legs apart, wasting no time in running his fingers between your folds. he gritted his teeth at the sight. you were glistening with how wet you were. he groaned, pulling a handful of your hair, forcing you to look at his digits before bringing them to your lips. “you’ve been soaked all fucking day,” he watched as you sucked on his fingers, moaning at the taste of yourself, “how pathetic.” rafe used your words against you as he forced your head into the sheets. you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together as you heard the clink of his belt, the heavy leather snapping against the skin of your thigh.
“fuck,” you whimpered. rafe rubbed the now reddening skin, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “someone can walk in here at any moment, so i’d suggest you shut the fuck up.” his jeans pooled at his ankles as he lifted your hips in the air, using one hand to arch your back, and the other to line himself up with your entrance. you had to cover your mouth in order to muffle the moans falling from your lips as the head of rafe’s cock stroked your clit. “fuck, ‘been wanting to do this for a long time.” with a small groan, rafe pushed himself inside of you, your velvety walls fluttering around the welcomed intrusion.
“holy shit.” his head rolled to the side, his eyebrows knitting in pleasure. “you feel so fucking good.” he wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling the makeshift ponytail as he thrusted into you. your mouth fell open in a silent moan, a small cry emitting from your mouth. “don’t want you to stop.” you whined, looking back at rafe with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. one look at your face made him curse under his breath, your eyes sparkling under the soft light of the room. “you’re so fucking pretty, baby.” he cupped your cheeks, taking your lips in a searing kiss.
your eyes fluttered shut as rafe pushed your head down once more. “m’gonna make you take every inch of this fuckin’ cock.” you pulled away momentarily, glancing up at him through your eyelashes. “you’re not in all the way?” rafe smiled, shaking his head. “i’m only at about half.” as if on cue, rafe’s hand came up to cover your mouth, muffling your scream when he fully pushed himself into you. the feeling of his cock filling you up to the hilt was unlike anything you ever felt before. rafe was doing everything he could to contain himself. embarrassingly enough for him, he felt like he was well on his way to cumming inside you.
he looked down, absolutely mesmerized by the way your pussy took him with ease. “oh my, fuck!” you reached back, holding onto his wrist as your hips started to meet his thrusts. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, both of you not caring who heard anymore. rafe grunted, pulling out as he flipped you over on your back. “i wanna see your face.” he breathed, his fingers attacking your clit. your nails raked down his chest, stars exploding from behind your irises. rafe felt his balls tighten as he neared his climax. “are you on the pill?” he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him.
you blinked slowly, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment. “no..” you blinked slowly, a whimper falling from your lips as rafe lightly slapped your cheek. “no?” his jaw clenched, the revelation somehow turning him on even more. “i could baby trap you right now, ‘make you stay inside the house the way you’re supposed to,” your eyes rolled back as your thighs started trembling around his waist. rafe’s hips stuttered once he felt you clenching around him. “you’d want that, wouldn’t you? ‘wanna be taken care of?” you nodded, your orgasm hitting at the same time rafe filled you up with his load. he pulled you into his chest, keeping you still as you writhed beneath him.
“rafe!” you cried, tears threatening to spill at the overstimulation. “i know,” he kissed the crown of your head, “fuckin’ hell, i know.” he groaned, slowly coming to a stop. you were still dazed, your fingers running across his buzzed head as you reveled in the feeling of his weight on top of you. the two of you laid in silence, rafe’s chin resting in the crook of your neck. “are you okay?” he pressed a kiss against your skin, gazing down at you in all your sex afterglow.
you smiled shyly, making him stroke the side of your face. “we should give ‘not hating each other’ a try.” rafe helped you get dressed, putting his own clothes on soon after. “yeah, we should. you kinda cummed inside me, so..” he nodded, his lips forming a straight line. “yeah, i did. are you freaked out by that? ‘cause i’m not.” you laughed at how nonchalant he was at the whole thing. “i guess if you’re not, then i’m not.” you shrugged. he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. “you’re a little misogynistic when you’re horny.” he hummed. “yeah? well, you came right after i said you belong in the house.” just as you were about to shoot back with something, the door slammed open.
“your guy came through with the stuff, both of you freaks could leave now.”
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slavghoul · 8 months
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Interview from Metal Hammer 8/2023
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LIFE LESSONS from TOBIAS FORGE
Shock rock, bad glam bands and wanting to be Venom: inside the brain of Ghost's benevolent overlord
Tobias Forge is the mastermind behind one of the 21st century's hottest metal bands, but even he’ll admit that success was a long time in the making. Hailing from the Swedish city of Linköping, the Ghost frontman dabbled in everything from death metal to glam before donning the iconic Papal attire and paint to transform into Papa Emeritus, transcending his roots to become a larger-than-life character. Here are the key parables he has to share, gleaned from more than 25 years on the heavy metal frontlines.
MUSIC AND MOVIES ARE GATEWAYS TO OTHER WORLDS
“Linköping was a nice city to grow up in. It wasn’t so small you felt like you were cramped in a village, but it’s small enough that you’d still want to eventually move somewhere else. You’d have access to all these gateways to other worlds through the record stores and the local video store. My dreams started there - everything I do now, I dreamt back there.”
I WAS A TEENAGE HEADBANGER
“I had a teenage brother growing up, so I had a free pass into teenage culture. Whatever they consumed, I got a whiff of - how they dressed, what they watched on TV, what films they rented... The lifestyle and expression that meant most to me was shock rock. Twisted Sister were a wrecking ball into my life with I Wanna Rock. That song made me want to bounce!”
THE HEAVIER IT GOT, THE DEEPER I WANTED TO GO
“When I first heard Candlemass, I was eight and I was blown away. I already liked Black Sabbath, Metallica and Motorhead through my brother, but Candlemass were local and sounded so heavy, it was like doomsday. King Diamond and Candlemass served as a segue for me to discover death metal and black metal in the early 90s. It became my calling. From the ages of 12 to 22, I spent my life in death and black metal bands.”
FOLLOW YOUR HEART (AND SOMETIMES YOUR WALLET)
“My mom is from Stockholm, so when I was 15 and started saying I wanted to move there, she was just like ‘Finish mandatory school’ and we moved together [after I graduated]. I moved back to Linköping when I was 25, because Stockholm is a big metropolitan place and it’s not fun living in those places if you don’t have money. Now I’m in Stockholm again; it’s more fun now I can afford it!”
HEAD IN THE CLOUDS, FEET ON THE GROUND
“I learned the hard way in the late 90s that wanting to play 80s-inspired death metal with my band Repugnant was     painfully out of touch with what was going on at the time. It broke my heart; I wanted us to be signed to Roadrunner and support Slayer. That never happened unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately, as it kept me grounded for a few more years and if those things had happened maybe I wouldn't be here today.”
TAKE CHANCES, BUT STAND YOUR GROUND
“Repugnant had a close shave with success. We signed to the label Hammerheart, which at the time felt like we’d made it because the first thing they did was take us out on our first tour, supporting the American band Macabre. They were a favourite band of ours - still are, and whenever we play Chicago they come to the shows - and at that point it felt like we might be going somewhere, but we quickly parted ways with Hammerheart because we couldn’t agree. It felt like our chance and we’d blown it.”
NOT ALL 80S BANDS WERE CREATED EQUAL
“With Crashdiet, we never really went beyond our home. I can’t say how many shows we did, but I don’t think it was more than a handful. For me especially there was conflict with the singer, Dave Lepard. We were friends, but he clearly wanted to take his band into some sort of glam-sleaze direction, whereas when I think of ‘glam’ I’m more Hanoi Rocks and Guns N’ Roses - never, ever the other bands. I know Poison kinda came before a lot of the latecomers, but to me they were repellent. Dave wanted to go all neon and I wanted it so that if we were glam, we’d be Hanoi Rocks meets Lords Of The New Church or The Dead Boys. I don’t want to be fucking Stryper! Fuck that!”
THERE’S NO POINT TRYING TO FOLLOW FASHION
“It was a confusing time in the early 2000s – rock was all of a sudden in fashion because of bands like Franz Ferdinand and Kaiser Chiefs. Everyone was always looking for the next big rock band and in Sweden The Hives were huge, as were The Soundtrack Of Our Lives, The Hellacopters, Backyard Babies...so many rock bands! But there we were in Subvision, influenced by The Dead Boys, with a little-too-long hair, leather jackets, just a little too ‘metal’... yuck! You’re supposed to be more indie; heavy metal is about having the biggest dick and indie is the opposite.”
FIRST IMPRESSIONS REALLY DO COUNT
“I hated The Strokes when they first came out. Back then, everyone described them as being so natural, that they weren’t interested in being rock stars, and I was like, ‘No. They didn’t wake up looking like that.' They chose to do that to be rock stars. And they can really play! Then when First Impressions Of Earth came out it was like, ‘There you go! That's what they really sound like! After that, I loved The Strokes, because they were showing they actually did love the music, but a lot of indie rockers treated it like it was their sell-out record.”
HAVE A VISION IN MIND
“Ghost started with a song, Stand By Him, which ultimately came out on our first record. I wrote it spontaneously, as an experiment - almost a joke, if you will, in 2006. When I recorded it the first time, I had no equipment in my home, so I had to go to a friend’s house. We did this very rough demo. He said it was great. He’d been in Subvision, Repugnant and Crashdiet with me, but we’d stopped playing together. He was like, ‘Can we form a new band?’ and I was like, ‘This song is the only thing I have. If I can come up with two more songs and there’s a pattern, then of course.’ But they needed to be as playful and spontaneous, and sure enough they were.”
PRESSURE CAN DO WONDERS
“Around 2008, when Ghost were first getting properly started, my girlfriend told me she was pregnant with twins. I never said it out loud, but I was preparing for my dream not coming true - maybe I wouldn’t become a rock star, I’d never be successful... So I had to at least have something that I could live with, a hobby that I could feel strongly about and get all my inclinations filtered through. I wanted to play metal, but also write pop music, have this horror rock show with theatre... Still taking inspiration from Venom pictures in 1982 where they looked like bikers surrounded by smoke and red lights. Ghost felt like a combination of all those things. Lo and behold, when I didn’t have all the time in the world, like I had before and gotten nowhere, when I could only put so much effort in, everything changed.”
THE MYTHOS IS NICE, BUT ONLY THE MUSIC MATTERS
“It was so weird, being threatened with a ‘reveal’ [Tobias’s public identity was revealed after ex-members took legal action against him in 2017I, as if people knowing who I was would be such a turn-off that they’d never listen to Ghost again. Here I am, most of my life wanting to be known, but then I was fighting to be unknown? What a paradox!”
ROLL WITH THE PUNCHES
“I’ve always tried to be like a general – have a goal, like, ‘Let’s take that castle’, but knowing that things can change in the field. You need to conduct yourself with a certain level of elasticity. I know I’m a control freak and want things to be done in a certain way, but I’m also aware things never work out that way.”
CHALLENGE YOURSELF
“One of the biggest weaknesses with modern metal - and horror - is that it’s being created and curated by people who only like that thing, so it becomes regurgitation. The best horror movies I’ve seen - Jaws, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, The Exorcist, The Omen - were made by people who never made horror films elsewhere. They wouldn’t limit themselves. If you don’t like other things, that’s fine, but if you ever feel stuck creatively it might just be that you’re sticking too close to home. I can’t even imagine just sticking to one lane these days.”
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calummss · 5 months
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Mads Mikkelsen Headcanon: Dating A Younger Woman Would Include
masterlist
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the age gap i'm thinking of is 20-35 years, so if it makes you uncomfortable do not read!
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you would probably meet randomly at a park, both of you walking alone and bumping into each other
let’s add the cliché where one of you is holding a cup of coffee and it goes everywhere, staining the two of you
instead of glares or words of anger, you both chuckle at each other and laugh, apologising with grins on your face
he offers you some money for new clothes but you deny
you start to talk and realise similar interest and it all kind of comes naturally
both of you had intentions of frienly acquaintances but slowly evolved into friends that went out for dinner or drink every couple of months
i feel like you would be the first to fall for him
you knew that he was significantly older than you but your heart saw right past that
mads never brought up the topic because he thought it would be weird and didn’t want to destroy the newly friendship
but one day you were bold enough to ask him if he thought of you more as a friend
he stumbled over his words a few times but ultimately admitted his affection for you
you kissed him to let him know you felt the same way
secretly knowing that mads was an actor, you approached the relationship carefully, always making sure that you were alone or not as seen to avoid paparazzi
which did not work because 5 months into the relationship a famous paparazzi released the pictures because he knew the age difference would cause a scandal
and you were right
newsites, twitter, every social media app was talking about it; his fans especially where halved. some backing up the relationship, others not
the two of you pulled away even more and stayed in his home in denmark
your parents contacted you after seeing you on the internet
they were weirded out who am i kidding?
they met him and talked
realised that you are in love and couldn’t really disagree because you’re both consenting adults but it took them a while to get adjusted
you spent the next couple of months doings various things:
baking (your mother’s blueberry and raspberry chocolate muffins)
walks in the park
snuggling up on the couch watching throwback movies
dancing to songs
your favourite being i wanna be yours by arctic monkey
and your favourite activity was mads bringing you breakfast to bed…
when everything died around your dating scandal, you slowly started to go out into the world again
mads bringing you as a date to an award show where he mentioned you in his winning speech
your relationship faces ups and downs but you know that it was meant to be
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recuira · 7 months
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after hours
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after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction
for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.
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chapter one
chapter two | red. rain. rotten.
his pov;
She was standing underneath a stripe-patterned banner that shielded her from the pouring rain. Her nimble fingers sorted through an assortment of fruits, trying to decide which were the ripest and tastiest of the bunch. Of course, she was by herself, with none of her peers or family around her. I knew she was close to them. But why must she always be alone?
The tan-suede coat I wore protected me from the cold, keeping my body somewhat warm. My gloves and hands were stuffed in my pockets as I peeked around the corner and watched the girl shop. I noticed her begin to shiver, which I dreaded. I was so selfish. I didn't need this coat. I've spent countless nights in the cold, the crashing waves of the East Blue only intensifying the breeze. I was almost immune to the cold, but her? Y/N's nose was reddening as her teeth shattered. Was any fruit worth suffering in the cold? A devil fruit, maybe. But even then, it wasn't worth it. "Y/N," I smiled as I approached the maiden. The girl's head rose as she picked up an apple then her body twisted, her eyes growing wide upon the sight of myself. She nearly jumped. "How-" She shook her head. "Are you following me?" Her voice and body shook. Yes. "No, of course not," I laughed, brushing the accusation off my shoulders as I took a few more steps toward her, closing the wide gap. "I was looking for something to eat and I spotted you. Am I not allowed to say hello?" Guilt was something I was tremendous at. Y/N still seemed skeptical but after a slight sigh, she smiled and nodded her head. "No, forgive me. I'm sorry. Uh," She turned her attention to the apple she was holding then let it drop among the others crowding in a small basket. "None of these apples look good."
"They've been sitting out for a while. The shop clerk doesn't take the best care of his fruits. It's why they're so cheap," I chuckled to myself and reached down to grab an apple. I twisted it and examined a large brown spot that was eating away at the once-bright red color. I huffed, "I'm sure you can find something else to eat."
"I can't afford anything else to eat."
My eyes widened and I took a step back, visibly and internally shocked. What? She couldn't afford to eat anything other than a rotten apple? "Why?"
"It's a long story," Y/N admitted. "But I don't wanna talk about it." The girl sorted through found one that looked reasonable, and started to dig in her pocket. She pulled out nothing. "Never mind, I can't even afford that." Letting out a pitiful laugh, she dropped the fruit. I frowned. Her absence of money was one of the few things I didn't know about her. And now that I was aware of it, I felt a puzzling and aggressive feeling in my stomach. Was she out of work? Did she not have any way of providing for herself? Raising my hand, I grabbed at my chin and scratched the bottom of it. "Let me buy you something to eat."
"What?" Her eyes widened and she immediately shook her head, waving her hands as a type of rejection. "You are not buying me anything."
"It's just lunch. It's no biggy," I remarked. "At least something small."
"Why?" She folded her arms over her chest. "Do you feel sorry for me? First, you see me getting picked on by some slob, and now, you see that I'm too poor to afford a rotten apple. What's next?"
"Y/N, knock it off. Stop. Just think of it as a friend doing something nice for their friend."
The questioning look remained stuck on her face as she stared up at me. I tried to maintain a serious expression though the look she was giving me made my lower lip purse, like a pout. How was someone so enchanting? I continued to stare into her eyes, making quick glimpses to explore her other facial features before she finally made a decision. "Fine, but just this once, okay?" "You got it." I winked. -=- Being the gentleman I am, I loaned Y/N my coat to wear despite her dismay and numerous declines. She was pouty the entire walk to the pub but I didn't care. I'd rather her in a pissy mood than feeling physically uncomfortable due to the rain. I, however, was shivering. I was starting to become drenched. I held a newspaper over my head in hopes of staying dry but the wind was strong and the rain was forceful, almost piercing through the thin paper.
When we arrived at the restaurant, she found herself a seat in the corner of the establishment, scooting far into the booth. I followed behind her, sitting on the edge of the seat. I'd rather her be sitting across from me than rather to the side but due to her current emotional state, I stayed quiet and slid her the menu. "Get whatever you want, alright? I mean it."
"Are you a man of money?"
"Something like that," I snickered and ducked my head down to examine the options.
"Have you killed anyone before?" Y/N asked as she folded her arms over the table, her eyes peering at me.
I furrowed my eyebrows and let out a soft laugh. "No," I lied. "I'm not like that. I wasn't that type of pirate."
"What kind of pirate were you?"
"What kind of pirates do you think there are?"
"I don't know," She said as she pursed her lips. "I don't like pirates."
I nodded, unsure of a proper reply. I didn't like lying to her. I was fine with lying, in general. I was the master of conniving and deception. But I wanted to be different for her. Maybe a better person, though that seemed a bit rash. I left the East Blue after discovering that Monkey D- or whatever his name was received a higher bounty than me. Double my own, to be precise. My normally high and mighty ego dropped down and was smooshed by a brick. I didn't want to show my face again, at least not for a while. I wanted somewhat of a fresh start. And when I discovered my presence in the North Blue was dim and almost non-existent, I decide to settle down and refresh.
Then I discovered her.
And my plans completely changed.
"Do you know what you're getting?" Y/N's voice interrupted my thoughts and I raised my head and peaked up at her, smiling softly.
"Hm, not too sure yet," I replied.
"Are you cold? You look cold. You can have your coat back, it's--"
"Nah, keep it. It looks better on you," I said with a grin. I reached for a napkin and started to dab at my forearms, trying to dry myself off. The lovely woman aside of me frowned and stayed quiet. I could tell she felt guilty, which, of course, wasn't my intention. So in hopes of brightening up the mood, I decided to tell a joke.
"What's a pirate's favorite type of exercise?"
Y/N smirked and scrunched her eyebrows. "What?" She laughed.
"The plank."
Her hand slapped over her mouth in hopes of keeping her loud giggles and snickers to a minimum but the more she proceeded to think about it, the more laughs she erupted. My face reddened. I glanced around me, noticing that every other patron and pirate were staring directly at us. Gulping, I reached forward and pulled her hand down from her mouth. "Come on, stop. It's not that funny."
"It's stupid, that's why it's funny!" She continued to cackle as she threw herself over the table, clutching her stomach. A smile crawled on my face, not a painted one. Hearing her laugh, while for no reason, was a beautiful sound. And seeing her laugh? That was even better. I rested my chin in my hand and watched her, smiling to myself. When she finally calmed down, she wiped tears from her eyes. Her face was stained red. "Gosh, I am so sorry," She sighed, shaking her head. "I needed that, thank you."
"It's no problem," I said as I dropped my menu.
Due to the lack of laughter, a waiter finally arrived and took our orders.
"I'll have a slice of apple pie, please. With a cup of milk," Y/N smiled up at the waiter as she read off from the menu.
I raised an eyebrow. Dessert?
"Then after that, I'll have the fish and chips. But I want the pie first, please. Not after." She announced and she folded her menu, sliding it forward. She smiled at me.
I looked at her, completely confused. "Uhm," I looked back to the waiter, "I'll just have a cup of coffee."
Now, Y/N was looking at me, confused.
The waiter nodded and left. "Hey," Y/N started. "Why aren't you eating? I thought you were on your way to get something to eat?"
"I'm not hungry. Plus I doubt you'll finish all of that. I might pick on your leftovers," I said with a grin then I started to munch on the small bowl of peanuts that sat in the middle of the table. "What's up with the apple pie though?"
"I like to eat my dessert before my food because that's what I'm looking forward to," She hummed as she leaned back in her seat. "What if during our meal, we are stormed by a group of pirates and killed at gunpoint? Or a sea snake comes and eats us whole?"
"Ha! What?"
"It's unlikely but it's possible. And I'd like to die knowing I was able to get to the good part of my meal." She wagged her finger at me.
"You make a good point there."
"I know," The girl said with a satisfied grin.
I chuckled and sat back, drumming my gloved fingers on the edge of the table. A thought pondered my mind but I didn't know whether to act on it or not. I wanted to, but I didn't want to overstep any boundaries. I felt Y/N and I were moving forward with our relationship if there was one. We were talking, enjoying a meal together. I made her laugh. She admitted a quirk about herself to me. I felt there was good progress. But I wanted more. I was an impatient man. And the fact that it took five months for me to finally talk to her, despite her initiating the conversation, was surprising. I was eager to get what I wanted. And Y/N was the only thing my mind and heart could agree on.
But the fighting halves of my brain finally settled and I rested my arm over the top of the booth, leaning back. "So, uh, earlier you said you needed to laugh? How so?"
"It's a long story," She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders.
"I've got no places to be, I have time," I said as I cracked a peanut open, discarding of the shells on an unfolded napkin. I watched as she began to grow uneasy with the topic but I was desperate to want to know what was the issue. Why was she stressing her pretty little head? I frowned. "Come on, talk to me. We aren't friends, I'm a stranger to you, no? Who am I gonna talk to or tell?"
"You make a good point," Y/N sighed and leaned forward, raising her hand to scratch at the back of her neck. "It's just- I don't know, it's a lot. I haven't talked to anyone about it."
“Why not?”
“Because it’s something I’m not proud of.”
What could someone as sweet and fragile as she has done that was such an awful deed?
“What is it?” I tossed a peanut into my mouth.
“Well, I was young when it all happened. But when Gold Roger announced the One Piece before he died, my dad was one of the stupid pirates who thought he could have a shot at finding it,” She announced as her eyes rolled and she started to chew on my inner cheek. “My mom kept telling him to knock it off and stop living in a fantasy but he set off, determined to find it. I haven’t seen him in fifteen years. But this came to me a few days ago,” The girl dug her hand into her pocket, rummaging around before she pulled out a crumpled piece of coffee-stained paper. She rolled the ball toward me.
I looked at her then back down at the paper ball. I reached forward and grabbed it, raising an eyebrow. Unfolding it, I smoothed the paper against the table and started to allow my eyes to trail over the letter.
‘Y/N,
It is with great sorrow that I write you this letter. I wish you the best in your youth and I hope you amount to incredible things, such as creating a new destiny for you and your mother. I am sorry I wasn’t able to be a better father for you. Greed is distasteful. I won’t see you again. At the time of writing this, I will be long gone. But please, do me one thing: never stop smiling.
I love you, kiddo.
Love, Dad’
I clenched my jaw and looked back up at her. “Damn, that is a lot.”
“I told you,” She whispered as she tore the paper out of my hands, crunched it into a ball, and then shoved it back into her pants. “I didn’t think he’d be dead. Not this soon. My parents had me when they were young. And to think that my dad died doing something everyone warned him of. It’s horrible. It haunts my mind every day,” She frowned, her eyes tearing up. “Do I write back?”
“Do you have things you wish to say to him?”
“So much. But if he’s dead, then there’s nothing I can say, right?” Y/N rubbed at her nose and took a deep breath as she looked up, her hands waving in hopes of drying her tears. “God, I hate crying.”
“Maybe just write your heart out. Say everything you wish you could say to him. Then seal it in a bottle and toss it into the sea,” I suggested. I looked down at my gloved hand and hesitating, I reached forward and took hold of her small hand. I gave it a tight squeeze. “What do you want to say?”
“How I hate him for abandoning me and my mother but I still love him because he’s my father,” Y/N murmured, the rest of her words muffling as her lower lip quivered. She broke down in a fit of sobs as tears ran down her gorgeous face. I swallowed, never knowing how to react when someone cried. As a child, I hated to be touched whenever I was upset. I wondered if she was the same way. “I don’t know, I don’t,” She repeated as she buried her face in her hands.
I looked around the bar, nervous that others were watching this scene. First the obnoxious laughter and now this? Her emotions were spiraling.
“Hey,” I whispered, my thumb rubbing along her wrist. “Let's say we get the food to go and I’ll take you back home. Eat where you feel comfortable and so you can properly feel your emotions.”
“Huh?” She raised her head, the light mascara that accentuated her eyelashes, now dripping down her cheeks.
“I’m going to go tell the chef to wrap your meal up. Then I’ll take you home,” I continued and I raised my free hand, snapping my fingers to signal we needed assistance. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn around when you walk inside.” I cocked a smile but the comment remained unheard as she continued to cry.
I finally found a waiter and instructed him that we were taking the meal to go. He looked at Y/N with a concerned look but I told him she was alright. But I didn't even know that.
On the walk back to her place, I think I managed to get her to calm down. My hand rubbed at her back as she dipped her head in her hands. I guided her through crowds, instructing her on where to go since her eyes were covered and swollen with tears. A small frown fell on my face despite the red-painted smile I wore so proudly. The face paint I wore was smeared and dripping due to the rain from before. It was continuing to rain but not nearly as frequent and hard as earlier.
I had no idea she was this emotional. It made me feel guilty, even though, as far as I knew, I had nothing to do with why she was crying so much. I hated seeing her so sad. Normally, if it were anyone else apart from her, ridiculing would be my goal. I never cry. Pirates don't cry. But my nose burned with an odd sensation as I helped her up the staircase to her small, run-down building. I blinked rapidly and the feeling went away. Letting out a sigh, I gave Y/N a pat on the back and informed her that we were finally home. Her head raised from the confines of her hands and she revealed a wet, red face with strands of her hair sticking to her skin. A frown stayed on my face. I pulled my hand from her back and dropped the takeaway down on the doorstep. I clenched my teeth together and watched as she fumbled to push the door open. "Here," I whispered, using my foot to nudge it open. It gave way, revealing a disorderly room with an unkempt bed and a woman sleeping under the sheets. It was probably her mother.
"Thank you," Y/N finally spoke, her voice croaking. "I appreciate it, honestly. I'm sorry for ruining your meal."
"Don't apologize. Things are fine. Go eat then get some rest, alright?"
"Yeah, okay." She rubbed her nose and nodded her head. "I'll see you around." Her body twisted and she hunched over to grab the uneaten food. She stepped inside.
"Y/N," I started, stopping her in her steps. She turned around. As I dug through my pocket, I pulled out a few berries, placing them in the palm of her hand. "Take these, okay? It's not a lot but, it should last you a little while."
"What?" She looked in her hand, shaking her head. "Buggy, no, I can't accept this. This is too much."
"Come on, take it. It's okay. You need it more than I do."
"But this is like," She counted the bills in her hands, "forty-three hundred berries... Are you completely sure?"
"Yes, I am," I said with a smile.
"I'm going to pay you back for this, I promise."
"No need."
"No, I want to. Please. I won't take this unless you allow me to repay you for this. Okay?" She slipped the money into her pocket, wiped her palm on the side of her pants, then held it out. "Deal?"
Chuckling to myself, I nodded my head. "Deal." I shook her hand. "Now, come on, go eat. I don't want to take any more of your time."
"Okay, okay," The beautiful girl agreed with a large grin, which was a much better sight than her crying. "Buggy, thank you. Thank you so much." And with those words, she stepped back, gave me a quick wave and a sincere grin, then shut the creaky wooden door behind her.
The sound of the door shutting nearly made me jump. And when I realized I was left all alone, the same sensation in my nose appeared. I gulped and walked down the stairs, now standing on a wooden dock. I hugged my arms and my eyes widened.
Y/N still had my coat.
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cowgurrrl · 3 months
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You're My Only Hope for Heaven
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author's note: oh bitch I'm having a fucking blast with this dynamic the slow burn is slow burning
Summary: An unlikely patron saunters into your bar [3.5k]
Warnings: one (1) creepy guy, one (1) fake marriage, lots of flirting that’s not flirting but it’s not not flirting, one (1) kiss
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You try not to make it a habit of picking up bar shifts during the week. Not only is it almost always slow, and you barely make any money, but it's hard to go from teaching for eight hours directly to another job. You'd much rather be at home, grading or doing something for yourself for the first time in weeks. But you couldn't say no when Katie called you, almost in tears, begging you to take her shift so she could deal with a burst pipe in her house. You don't regret doing her a favor, but you do regret other things as you stand behind the mostly empty bar as whatever game is happening plays on the screen above your head. You think it's a UT game. Or maybe A&M. Or any of the other SEC Texas schools with an absurd football budget. 
You're basically yawning your way through your shift and working through your newest painting in your head, trying and failing to not think about school until absolutely necessary. Principal Martinez is cracking down on the stupid minutiae the school board demands of its teachers, and you spent most of your afternoon writing student objectives on the board. On top of that, your art club kids have been begging you to plan a field trip to the local art museum for weeks. You finally relented, but the paperwork is mind-numbing and requires much more work than you thought. Between working, making art, and trying to live your life, you barely have time. 
Another reason you hate working weekdays is the creepy regulars. Normally, you can ignore them on a busy Saturday night, but it's harder when it's as dead as it is. You have no idea how Katie deals with them on a regular basis. It started with a guy at the bar, you think his name is Steve, asking you progressively invasive questions. "How old are you?" "You gotta boyfriend?" "What time do you get off?" One right after each other, even after you made it clear you're not interested. Fake laughing and making excuses to run to the back or change a keg don't throw him off. 
"Keep it up, and I'll cut you off." You finally threaten after he asks you why you're being a bitch. You roll your eyes when the bell above the door rings, probably admitting yet another asshole who's gonna make your night hell. When you turn toward the door, the words leave you before you can stop them. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
"Now, is that any way to greet your customers?" Joel chuckles, and you sigh as he sits down in front of you. Thankfully, his brother is not in tow, and you can save yourself a little embarrassment. "I didn't know you worked here."
"I don't," you say. "Whatcha drinkin'?" 
"Looks like you're workin' to me." He smirks and you shoot him a look.
"You wanna free drink or not?" 
"Shiner," he answers quickly. You hum in acknowledgment, not even bothering with the POS system and going right to the fridge to pull a bottle out for him. You pop the cap off and place a napkin under the beer before sliding it to him. "Are you bribin' me?"
"You've gotta be faster with your questions, Miller. You've already accepted it. Might as well enjoy." You say, and he laughs. 
"Well, alright, then," he says, raising his beer to you before taking a quick sip. "So, what's this, then? You moonlightin' as a bartender?" He asks, and you fight yourself on how to answer. What if word gets back to parents? Administration? They couldn't reprimand you for that, right? You know plenty of other teachers with second jobs, so it can't be that taboo. Still, you're hesitant to open up to Joel. Out of all the people who could've walked into your bar tonight, it had to be him.
"Something like that." You settle on, wiping a sticky spot on the bar to avoid his gaze. If he feels anything negative about you having a second job, his face doesn't show it. He has a soft smile on his lips and a slight sunburn across his nose, highlighting the freckles living there that previously went unnoticed. You want to tease him about not wearing sunscreen, but the joke dies in your throat when he rests his elbows on your bar, showing off those stupid biceps you can't not look at. He catches your eyes lingering near the short sleeve of his shirt and opens his mouth like he's going to say something, but a grating voice from the other side of the bar cuts him off.
"Excuse me, sweetheart! You've got other patrons over here!" Steve yells, and you feel your eye twitch at his attitude. Joel notices.
"What's wrong with him?" He asks quietly, leaning forward over the bar to get closer to you. Looking into his brown eyes and confused expression, an idea forms.
"Pretend you know me." You say, and his eyebrows knit together, every emotion visible on his face. 
"I do know you."
"No, I mean," you sigh. "That guy over there is a regular on Wednesdays, and the girl who usually works is married, so he doesn't try anything with her, but I won't give him my number, and he's making me fucking miserable. So, just... pretend to know me." Joel is bigger than Steve. Much bigger. Probably a whole head taller and much broader than the man on the other side of the bar. One word from Joel, and he might actually shut up or, better yet, leave altogether so you can finish your day without any more hiccups.
"Okay," Joel agrees, and you reflexively reach out to touch his thick forearm and squeeze. You don't even realize you did it until he smiles like he won a staring contest or something.
"Thank you," you say before turning and bracing yourself to deal with Steve. "What can I do for you, sir?" You ask, but before you can even finish your sentence, he holds up his empty beer bottle and waves it in front of your face like you're stupid. 
"Another beer." He says, and you bite your tongue. 
"You got it."
"Finally," he groans. "You'd think for such an easy fuckin' job, you'd be better at it." 
"What the fuck is your problem?" You ask, refusing to move from your spot to get him his beer, and he scoffs.
"My problem is that you're bein' a fuckin' bitch and ignorin' me when I didn't do nothin' wrong." He's slurring his words together at this point, and you wordlessly go to the POS system to close his tab and send him on his way. "Hey, I'm talkin' to you!" He yells after you.
"Hey, man, why don't you leave her alone? She's just tryna do her job." Joel speaks up from the other side of the bar, and Steve straightens up in his seat as he assesses Joel. 
"This isn't any of your fuckin' business. Stay out of it."
"It's my business now. That's no way to speak to a lady. I think you owe her a mighty big apology." 
"I don't owe her shit," he spits, and you look over to see Joel setting his jaw and squaring his shoulders. "Why's this even matter to you, big shot?"
"That's my fuckin' wife you're mouthin' off to," Joel says without hesitation, and you quickly school your expression. Wife? You asked him to play along, but you didn't think he'd say that. "So, if you wanna keep the rest of your teeth, I suggest you apologize to her, leave her a nice, big tip for dealin' with your sorry ass, and get yourself a ride home." 
Steve is silent as you take the empty bottle away from him— just in case things get really ugly— and slide him his card and bill. He eyes Joel carefully for a few tense seconds before picking up a pen, signing his check, and leaving without another word. The second he's out the door, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders and sigh at the relief. You scrub a hand down your face and look over at Joel.
"You okay?" He asks gently like you're a spooked horse, and you nod. You take a few minutes to get yourself together, putting in Steve's 30% tip and cleaning off the empty bar before returning to Joel. "What?" He asks when he catches you smirking.
"At least buy a girl dinner before you call me your wife." You say, and he laughs, shaking his head. 
"You said the other girl is married. I just took it and ran," he says. "And I already tried to take you to dinner, but somebody said no." 
"School regulation says it's unethical." 
"Well, we're not at school now, and you're certainly not a teacher right now." He says smoothly, vaguely gesturing to your all-black outfit, and you give him a look. "What time d'you get off?"
"You're gonna get me in trouble." You whisper, and he leans forward across the bar. 
"All I did was ask you a question." He whispers back, playfully mocking you. It could be the smile on his face, the relaxed humor behind his eyes, or the fact that he stood up for you because you asked him to, but you glance between him and the clock and take a deep breath. 
"I get off at 12. Unless it stays dead like this, then I'm closing early," you say, and his smile grows. "But this is not a date." 
"'Course not." He chuckles, and you raise your eyebrows at him. 
"I'm serious. I need you to say it's not a date, so I know you won't come after me if your kid fails my class." 
"Is my kid failing your class?"
"No, she's amazing. But for my own mental well-being, I need you to say that this is not a date." You say, and he grabs your wrist to stop your anxious wringing. 
"Let me buy you a drink. That's it. Nothin' more," he says, squeezing you. "This ain't a date." 
"Thank you." You sigh, and he nods. 
You spend an hour or two idling between conversations with Joel and trying to look busy for any manager who might care enough to check the cameras. You're pretty much done with all your closing duties by 10:00, and you wait until it's been a full hour since anyone else came in to flip the closed sign and do a few last-minute things. When the bar is completely clean, empty, and ready for the next shift, you slink back behind it to make yourself and Joel a drink before sitting beside him. 
"You feelin' proud of yourself for getting us here?" You ask as you clink your glass against his and take a sip. 
"Yeah, I've got the prettiest girl in the whole place sittin' by me," he says, and before you can even scold him, he throws his hands up. "Not a date." 
"Not a date." You repeat.
"Still true, though."
"Don't make me regret saying yes to you, Mr. Miller." You say, and he gives you a look. You like teasing him, especially since you can always see exactly how he's feeling. He's not particularly subtle, contrary to what you're sure others think about him. 
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Joel?" 
"As many times as it takes, I guess," you shrug. "You also clearly have an aversion to being called Mr. Miller."
"My dad was Mr. Miller." He says, and you roll your eyes, groaning and half-folding in on yourself dramatically. 
"Oh, my God, do you know how many men have said that to me since I've become a teacher?"
"Well, it's true!" He says. "Are you sayin' other people are tryna tell my wife to call ‘em by their first names?" He asks, and you laugh. 
"Believe it or not, you're not the first single parent to ask me out." 
"Am I the first one you said yes to?" 
"So far." 
"So far?" He asks, raising his eyebrows, and you hum. "I'll take it." 
Unsurprisingly, Joel is really easy to talk to. He asks questions about your life outside of work, where you went to school, and what made you want to be a teacher. You ask him about his job and family and, somehow, end up talking about the latest cheesy action film he's seen. When both your drinks are empty, the glasses sit there, the ice slowly melting as you talk into the night. Every time a hint of anxiety creeps up your spine, he makes you laugh or tells you an interesting story from his past and distracts you from it. You lose hours sitting there, and you don't even realize it until your phone pings you with a reminder, and you suddenly see it's past midnight.
"Oh, shit," you mumble, showing Joel the time. "I gotta lock up."
"And you have school tomorrow." He says, and you groan as you stand and grab your glasses. 
"Don't remind me. I've got like five million things waiting to get done there." You say. He watches you step behind the bar, leave them in the sink for the opener to find, and no doubt send a catty message in the group chat asking who closed the night before. His eyes don't leave you even when you reach up and grab your bag, your sleeve falling down just enough to reveal a nasty bruise.
"Woah, that looks like it hurt," he says, gesturing to your arm. "How'd you get that?"
"Promise you won't laugh." Your response does nothing to clear up his confusion, but he raises his right hand and makes a cross over his heart.
"I promise." His tone is gentle and even, but you're still hesitant to actually admit it.
"I fell off a table." 
"I told you!"
"Hey!" You scold. "You promised you'd be cool about it!"
"I promised not to laugh." He says, and you roll your eyes. "They still haven't come to fix it for ya?"
"Would I be climbing on tables if they did?"
"Fair enough," he shrugs. You find the bar keys at the bottom of your purse and walk over to where he's still sitting, your hand resting on the back of your chair. He shifts forward until he can catch the edge of your sleeve and roll it up to see the bruise in all her glory. His fingers are warm, and his touch light as he traces the edge of it, not firm enough to make it ache but enough that you feel the pads of his fingers. You freeze like your stillness will be enough for the feather-light touches to continue, your eyes meeting for a split second. He clears his throat and rolls your sleeve back down for you, drawing his hand back. "Tell you what," he says. "I gotta buddy who gets me a good deal on some spare parts. Let me see if I can track down the part you need, and I'll come fix it myself. Free of charge."
"You don't have to do that." 
"And let my wife fall off tables?" He asks, a smirk pulling on his lips, and you shake your head. "It's the least I can do for the free drinks and, ya know, teachin' my kid." 
"Fine, but don't make it a thing. The maintenance people already don't like me. I can't imagine seeking outside help will make them like me." 
"I won't make it a thing," he promises, leaning back in his chair as his eyes travel up and down your body. He sighs heavily and sucks his teeth like you're suddenly too much, and you smile. "It's a damn shame this wasn't a date."
"What'd you do if it was?" The question borders on dangerous, but you can't take it back now that you've said it. It seems to have piqued Joel's interest, too, because he raises his eyebrows at you.
"You really wanna know?" He asks, and you nod.
"I really wanna know," you say. "How does Joel Miller end a successful date?" He gets a little bashful at the question, a blush creeping up his neck, and you knock his knee with yours to get his attention. "C'mon, don't get shy on me now."
"Alright, alright," he grumbles. "If this were a date, and we were gettin' ready to go out separate ways, I'd walk you out to your car, open the door for ya 'cause a lady should never open her own doors," his voice is slow and low, and he watches your face as he speaks. "And I'd kiss you. Nice and slow so I don't scare ya off or anythin'. I might put a hand on your waist or bite that pretty lip or somethin'. And right when I can feel you wantin' a little more, gettin' a little desperate, I'd stop, say goodnight, and walk back to my truck." His words have a devastating effect on you, and you can't look away from him. The heat rolling off him in waves makes you too warm and flustered. His gaze flicks from your eyes to your lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his plump bottom lip, and you have half a mind to think he's looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. You have half a mind to let him. 
"You're right," you finally breathe. "It's a shame this isn't a date." He nods and stands, his broad chest grazing yours as you look up at him. You're not a science teacher by any means. If you were, you might be able to explain the magnetism you feel toward Joel or what stupid chemical in your brain makes you wonder what tricks he keeps up his sleeve. But you're not. You're an art teacher. So, the only thing you can focus on is the deep brown of his irises and the heavy lashes and crow's feet that frame his eyes. And the swoop of his salt and pepper curls, the tint of his slightly pink forehead and strong nose. You want to capture his image in the dim lighting of the bar, but you settle for committing it to memory to scribble in the margins of your notebook for the rest of the week. Why couldn't you have been a science teacher?
Neither of you says anything as he finally steps away, giving you the space to turn off the last of the bar lights and push through the haze he created in your mind. He lingers by the door and opens it for you when you go to the front and step into the humid Austin night. You lock the doors and give him a small smile when you turn around to see him rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. 
Then, just as he said, he walks you to your car and opens the driver's side door for you. His truck, the only other car in the parking lot, is parked a few spaces away from yours. It would've been so much easier to just ignore you, get in his car, and drive away, but here he is, being the gentleman he's always been toward you. You step into the space created by the open door and throw your bag in the passenger seat, but don't get in the car. Not yet. He sighs heavily, like he's in physical pain, when you meet his eyes again, and his hand flexes around the edge of your car door. 
"Thanks for my not date." You mumble, and he nods. You're close (and weak) enough that brushing his lips would just take a strong breeze. It freaks you out how okay you are with the idea of "accidentally" kissing Joel Miller. You should be panicking. Alarm bells should be sounding in your head, but the only thing filling the cavernous space is the echo of his voice explaining what he'd do if this were a date. Idiot.
He leans on your door a little more, and your heart quickens, thinking he might actually be the one to make the move. His head ducks just a little, and you get a strong whiff of his cologne, your eyes fluttering shut at the scent. Your throat is suddenly dry, and you're all but pushing up on your toes when he swerves past your lips and presses a chaste, firm kiss to your cheek. His beard scratches your soft skin pleasantly, and you keep your eyes closed until he pulls away, looking like he just won a prize.
"Get home safe." He says as he steps back, still holding your door open. You sigh and fight a smile as you look at him— cocky, vindicated, and knowing exactly what he just did. 
"Goodnight, Joel." You manage to get out before sitting down and letting him gently shut the door for you. You wait until he gets in his truck to roll your window down and shout his name until he does the same. "I'm gonna get you back for that."
"Oh, I'm countin' on it, darlin'."
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3
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drunk-on-dk · 1 year
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wow my first time here for hard hours…
headempty just brothersbff!dokyeom coming over to u (and ur brothers) house for da first time to tutor ur brother cuz he’s a lil braindrad,, still unknowning of the houses’ layout,, dokyeom walks into you fingering urself and observes how ur fingers r way too short to do anything rly pleasurable n helps u like the good friend he is :(( I WANNA WRITE AB THIS SO BAD BUT WRITERS BLOCK IS SO CRAY!!!
lee..... you're kidding me.... please come here for hard hours whenever because this made my brain turn in ways that I cannot explain..... ok so I thought this would be a drabble, but I spiraled below and I HOPE YOU ENJOY (also i've been struggling with writer's block so this totally helped get my creative thoughts running again thx u)
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Prompt/Pairing: Brother's Best Friend!Seokmin x fem!reader
Genre: SMUT just pure filth (minors DNI)
w/c: ~2.5k (not a DRABBLE oops)
content warnings and prompt under the cut
c/w: no pronouns, but fem bodied reader; masturbation; use of a vibrator; walking in on reader, but consent is KEY when continuing; DK has long fingers AKA pro at fingering in this
Lee Seokmin, kindly referred to as DK, a nickname coined by your idiotic brother years ago when he had first met the overly kind boy back in grade school. DK was an all-rounder, which was known very well throughout your years trailing your brother and him in school. Of course, DK was popular for his looks, overall bright attitude, humorous side, and intelligence.
The boy was an enigma throughout his entire high school career, so you had no choice but to crush on your brother’s best friend. You couldn’t help it when he’d flash you his signature smile every time he’d pick you and your brother up for school, or when he'd gift you the occasional snack on exam mornings – which, of course, would go untouched in your backpack since you cherished the sacred gift so much.
However, you were able to see him at his worst over the years, especially the clumsier and louder sides of him when he’d spend the night over at your house almost every weekend. His boisterous voice would permeate through closed doors - even when he was a few rooms away - while your brother and he would play video games until the crack of dawn. Another oddity included that time he had mistaken your toothbrush as his own for weeks on end, only admitting his fault weeks later when he had run into you in the hallway late one night, almost as if he was fearful that you’d confront him even though you had no clue.
Eventually, you grew annoyed with the boy as you got older, your high school crush no longer blinding you to the fact that he was just another one of your brother’s loud, teasing friends, even if he was damn cute. Regardless, Dokyeom still took care of you like you were his own friend, as you were close in age to your brother, and he always considered you as part of the group. He was always sure to include you in plans even if your brother didn’t, making sure you had a comfortable high school experience, and continuing to gift you snacks on exam days – even if you didn’t blush profusely like you used to.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, you had followed in your brother’s footsteps and decided to attend the same college as him, which ironically enough, DK had chosen the same college as well. The duo was still thriving more than ever even when they had found other friends in their separate majors. DK was also still roped into tutoring your brother in his classes, even though he had passed them semesters ago himself.
You had just moved in with your brother after your first year, and you two had decided to save some money and just commit to sharing an apartment a mile off campus. It was easy living with him, especially because you two had similar friend groups and could comfortably coexist. You also enjoyed the privacy it gave you, as your brother spent most of his time at his frat house even though he had his own place, typically crashing on one of his brothers’ futons every weekend.
You took advantage of this, blasting music when you’d get ready for your own nights out, or spending nights like tonight shamelessly binging a show or whatever book you were reading, eventually getting bored and pleasuring yourself in the serenity of your quiet apartment.
It was still early in the night, but, good God, you had been strung out all week. Midterms were finally coming to an end, and all you could think about was a little R&R, possibly channeling that energy through a quick orgasm.
However, it was anything but quick tonight. You had been squirming around for maybe half an hour now, a slight sheen to your flushed skin, and a vibrator pressed firmly against your clit after you decided your fingers wouldn’t suffice.
Your sheets were surely a mess at this point from how tightly you were gripping them from desperately chasing the high that your body wouldn’t grant you. Just when you thought you were close, a pathetic half-moan would leave your lips every time the building pleasure would ebb away.
You were frustrated, but you were determined. Pulling out all the tricks now, your spare hand and fingers played with your perked nipples, unable to restrain your body from arching into the bed to further press your throbbing clit against the devilish, vibrating toy.
The only thing that broke you out of your wanton fervor was a single knock at your bedroom door – which the knock was appreciated, giving you just enough time to scramble to cover yourself with a throw blanket, but whoever the intruder was waited for just a pause before throwing your door open – coming eye to eye with none other than the boisterous DK.
“Ready to study and then whoop some ass on -" DK stopped mid-sentence, jaw slack as his backpack fell to his side upon realizing this was not your brother's room. To be fair, DK had only been here once or twice since you and your brother moved apartments recently; your previous one had a roof-leak, and this place was temporary until the latter would be renovated by the end of the semester.
Surely, you both looked like deer in headlights staring at each other. DK surveyed you for a second, saucer-like eyes tracing you from head to toe, drinking in the way your chest rose and fell underneath the tiny, fluffy throw blanket that gave you some sense of decency. You could almost see the lightbulb go off in DK’s head when he realized what he had walked into, the not-so-quiet whirring of the vibrator in the background only confirming his suspicions.
“Oh my god,” he starts, internally cursing himself when his jeans begin to tighten ever so slightly around his crotch. It’s almost as if he forgot how to walk or speak, but he can’t deny that this is a fantasy he’s had one too many times. “Were you-?”
“Don’t,” you cut him off, already immensely embarrassed that he walked in on you so hot-and-bothered. It was almost comical how the vibrating sound came to a halt, awkwardly searching for the button on the toy beneath the sheet and finally successfully turning the device off. “We can just act like this never happened, my brother isn’t here since I’m assuming that’s who you were looking for, and we can just go about our night without discussing further.”
Woefully, you could almost get off to the sight of just him, maybe you’d tuck the memory of him into your arsenal to finally finish yourself off later tonight. You weren’t sure if it was the arousal that was clouding your mind from touching yourself for so long, but you swore you’d never seen his kind eyes look so dark and carnal. And fuck, he looked good as per usual, boyishly handsome in denim jeans, and a white tee hugging his biceps perfectly.
You felt even more flustered when he just continued to stare at you, not making any effort to lift the backpack at his feet, nor to exit your room when you look at him expectantly. With a groan, you run a hand over your beet-red face, about to question if he is going to leave until he speaks before you do.
“Are you just going to return to what you were doing?” His voice is strained, deeper in tone than his typically chirpy sound.
You stare back at him dumbly, readjusting the blanket around your body so you can sit comfortably on the side of your bed. “M-Maybe, why does it matter to you? Like I said, we can just forget about this.”
He does the opposite of what you’d expect, rather than leaving your room he takes a step towards you. The heat burns in your belly even more, your body reacting and tingling each step he takes closer towards you.
“How long have you been alone in here?” It’s so out of character how hazy and stormy his eyes become, how husky his voice sounds, and how you feel your increasing heartbeat at your core when you realize just how big and tall he is.
“U-um,” you squeak out, shriveling in his presence, unsure of where all his confidence came from as he continues to eye you down. Maybe it’s the nerves, but you begin to spill out details of the frustrating night you’ve had thus far. “It’s been a long week DK - I just needed to unwind. My damn fingers won’t get the job done, so I’m using this stupid toy. This is pathetic and embarrassing, and why are you getting so close to me?”
“Can you show me?” He asks almost innocently, voice soft and tempting as he kneels in front of where you’re sitting on the bed. He repeats himself when you fail to stutter out a response. “Can you show me how you were using your fingers?”
You feel like you’re in a trance, heart, and body reacting before your sensible mind can stop you. This is a bad idea, you should just say no and kick him out, but the way his eyes remained locked on yours as you slowly nod is enough to encourage you to drop the blanket wrapped around you. Screw it, even as much as you'd like to say your crush on him faded, it never really did.
He lets out a strained sigh when you reveal your body to him, the only thing covering you is the flimsy tank top that’s bunched at your waist, only indicating further how desperate you had been.
“Are you OK with showing me?”
“Y-yes,” you gasp out, gradually opening your legs for him to see your most intimate self, evidence of an impending orgasm clear from the sight of your swollen clit and wet thighs from your dripping slit. The whimper that escapes his lips makes your eyes roll back, fingers absentmindedly tracing over your folds and making you whimper with him.
“You’re so wet, sweetheart,” he’s whispers as he intently watches the pad of your thumb rub at your clit, “Such small hands and little fingers, no wonder you’ve been touching yourself for so long.”
You buck your hips upwards when you finally let your pointer and middle fingers glide in between your folds, carefully pumping the two in and out of yourself and biting back a moan when DK leans even closer towards your core.
“It’s not enough,” your voice is breathy as you pout, grinding your hips into the palm of your hand as your fingers do a not-so-satisfactory job. You’re falling back now, wrapped up in your arousal once again as your head hits the pillowy mattress beneath you.
“Of course, it’s not,” DK coos, standing up to tower above where you now lay, one knee finding real estate between your legs as you so urgently keen into your hand. “You can fit another finger inside of you, maybe that will help.”
You listen to him, fitting a third finger inside of you, yet they don’t reach deep enough to provide you enough pleasure.
“Oh,” he almost sounds patronizing, “they’re too short, aren’t they?”
You’d almost think he was messing with you if it wasn’t for the way his breathing picked up when you let out a desperate cry, a rough groan bubbling from his chest when your thighs tightened around his own leg slotted between yours.
“Yeah, t-they are,” you cry out, trying your hardest to not shift down the bed and start grinding against his leg.
“Can I help?”
“God, I thought you’d never ask. P-Please.”
Just like that, DK’s deft fingers are at your core, long digits running between your folds to collect your slick before teasingly probing at your center.
“I said please,” you moan out, practically begging as your hips chase his hand when he continues to pump just the tips of his fingers tauntingly and shallowly inside of you.
He almost growls when his fingers fill you completely, the way your walls sucked him in was enough to have him wanting more. In order to get closer to you, DK collapses next to you, one thigh still slotted between your legs and his free arm propping him up above where your heated chest rises with each needy breath.
“You take my fingers so well, sweetheart,” he whines out, unable to stop himself from pressing his lips against your neck especially when your body is arching against his with each pump of his fingers inside you. “Can’t believe you're still this tight after playing with yourself for so long.”
Your own hands are desperately gripping his arms, nails digging into the firm muscles as he trails hot kisses across your neck and chest. Your body shakes in need when he hits a spot deep inside of you, pressing against that spongey spot that has your thighs tensing up with each expert curl of his long fingers.
You know you’re babbling at this point, something about how good he’s making you feel, something about how hot he is, something about how you’ll need his fingers all the time now.
This only eggs DK on, his supporting arm shaking as he sets a brutal pace, fingers pumping in and out and each ministration feeling delicious against your walls. You let out a scream when his thumb encounters your clit, making him press even closer against you to hold your needy hips down as he fingers you so perfectly.
You’ve been encapsulated by him at this point, everything about him is big and tall and long, and your mind goes a bit haywire wondering if that applied to really everything, the obvious bulge contained by his jeans only making your mind wander to dirtier places.
“Is this enough, sweetheart?” His lips are pressed into your neck, teeth nipping gently at the shell of your ear as he desires to hear some more praise and feedback from you.
“God,” you moan out, thighs shaking as his thumb rolls in circles over your clit, chest pressing against his as he smiles against your ear. This isn’t enough – actually – you want all of him. But yet it is, the world around you begins to spin as you feel your impending release finally bursting inside of you. “Fuck, this is more than enough. God, I’m g-gonna finish.”
“Finish, sweetheart, use my fingers.”
You’ve never come so hard from just fingers, not even with past lovers, but DK’s long fingers have your walls spasming and tightening around them, hips finally falling still as you gush around the digits. You feel euphoric, your release washing over your body as you come to.
You thought maybe your post-orgasm clarity would snap you back into reality, reminding you that you just had the best fingering of your life from your brother’s best friend, making the situation awkward and panicking upon realization, but you do exactly the opposite.
“Do you need help now, DK?”
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kenshimybeloved · 6 months
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Hi!! Here’s a probably-too-long analysis of Kenshi and Johnny’s first scene together that’s probably just part 1 of a series where I over analyze every scene of these two!
In previous scenes, it’s made clear that Johnny is disappointed with the current trajectory of his life- his career is going downhill, he’s losing money, his wife is leaving him, and we see him drinking despite it being implied multiple times throughout the game that Johnny has had some kind of issue with alcohol/possibly substances of some kind. The nail in the coffin for his marriage is an argument not over just Johnnys spending in general, but the fact that he spent $3M on a sword that he refuses to get rid of. It’s not super clear initially why it is he feels so strongly about this particular sword- sure he doesn’t wanna get rid of anything Chris lists, but the sword seems to strike a nerve when she suggests reselling it. Why is it he’s so fascinated with its deep history? Are we to assume Johnny is a history nerd in this timeline? That’s what it seems to imply when you’re first playing this part of the game, but as it goes on we learn this is all Liu Kangs doing. Liu Kang admits to using Sento as a means to introduce Johnny and Kenshi to each other (this is confirmed through a fight intro with him and Kenshi), but since he also does his best not to interfere too much with free will, he leaves the meeting up to them.
[side note: I find it interesting that it’s confirmed Liu Kang had Johnny buy Sento so that Kenshi would eventually come looking for it, considering that Liu Kang also likely new this would be the demise of Johnnys marriage. Him meeting Kenshi this way was more important than his literal wife. Not that the marriage wouldn’t likely end eventually anyways- just interesting that he felt the need to speed up the process]
Immediately we see he’s extremely disappointed in them for fighting, but what honestly did he expect? And I don’t mean that sarcastically- legitimately, why would he expect anything different? To Kenshi, Sento is the key to freeing and leading his family out of the Yakuzas grasp- nothing else matters to him at this point. To Johnny, Sento is a prized possession- one so important he let it get in the way of his marriage. He very clearly isn’t ready to let go of his old life (as evident through him attempting to pitch movie ideas to uninterested producers and flirt with a wife who’s been emotionally detached for quite some time), and he’s not letting go of Sento either. Sento means far too much to the both of them for either of them to let it go without a fight. However, while normally this would cause a significant rift in the relationship between the two people fighting over an object, this time the object seems to be the very thing forcing them together. But more on that later when I eventually analyze the scenes of them at the Wu Shi Academy! Lastly, I’d like to point out that even this early on in their relationship, Johnny is very clearly infatuated with Kenshi as a person. I mean imagine spending $3M on a sword because you find the history of one of the first families in Japan incredibly fascinating, just so that one day a supposed member of that presumably dead family breaks into your home demanding the sword. But Kenshi is cold, closed off, and (seemingly) completely uninterested in Johnny. And to me, this is what really reels Johnny in. Kenshi being Taira clan was already enough to get Johnny hooked- but add onto that that Kenshi doesn’t give a flying fuck about him? That just leaves room for gay pining baby!
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spaceshipellie · 7 months
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hi erin cutie angel baby ♡૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა
can I req for Abby + fluff and angst, like hurt/comfort + modern au, maybe like a high school or uni setting with the lyric
“and home’s not home unless you’re there”
fuck I love ethel cain, she is a creative and lyrical genius
“and home’s not home unless you’re there”
pairing: abby x reader
summary/warnings: modern university au, fluff, hurt/comfort, toxic friends
hi sugar darling, thank you for the req ♡ she is a genius!!
being at university was a breath of fresh air. it was the first time in your life you’d ever felt happy enough to truly be yourself. you felt harsh admitting it but your friends back home never seemed to really understand you and what you wanted out of life. you’d known them for years and over that time it seemed that they had all stayed close but now only spoke to you when they wanted to mooch off of your generous nature. and you being the people pleaser that you were, gave in to them more often than you wanted to admit. the life you had made for yourself at university felt more like home than your actual hometown ever had, and more specifically, she did.
you had been head over heels in love with abby ever since she’d flashed you her winning smile from across the room at a house party about eight months ago. she had waltz into your life with so much unexpected charm and warmth, it really showed you that there was more to life than making yourself amendable for others.
on this particular day, however, you’d been receiving messages all day from these friends and it had knocked you into a pretty bad mood. it was your one of their birthdays and you had suggested a spa weekend which everyone thought was a great idea but now, no one was helping to organise anything. they expected you to be in charge of booking it, driving everyone there, picking up the cake, and even though you had asked twice, half of them hadn’t transferred you the money for their share yet and it was this weekend. you were exhausted by it all and wished you’d never even bothered to suggest anything. the worst part was, the situation seemed to be causing some friction between you and abby. nothing major but you were so consumed with trying to do everything perfectly and had spent so much time anxiously planning out this birthday thing that you had barely spoken to her and when you had, you’d been quite short and inattentive.
later that day, you were sat at your desk, face in your phone, furiously flicking between the group chat and google. abby was leaning against the headboard of your bed reading. well, half reading, half looking over at your frowning face.
“do you wanna watch a movie?” she asked.
“mm maybe,” you responded, half-heartedly.
“or go for a walk and get a coffee? it’s really sunny out.”
“yeah.” again, your tone was as unenthusiastic as could be, eyes still glued to the bright screen like you were being brainwashed.
abby slammed her book shut and sighed, shifting down so her head hit the pillow.
“what’s wrong?” you asked.
“oh you’re listening to me now?”
you looked up at her. “what?”
“you’ve been ignoring me for…well, days. honestly how much more planning does this weekend need?”
“it’s not my fault they’re making me do everything,” you said defensively.
“you don’t have to, you know. tell them to do some of it, and have they even paid you?”
“no… but i can’t i’m already doing it now, it’s fine.”
“it’s not though. they’re walking all over you.”
“abby, i’m already super stressed about it i don’t need you making it worse.”
she propelled herself up at your frantic tone and stood behind you, placing her hands on your tense shoulders to start lightly massaging them.
“i’m sorry for stressing you, i understand it’s difficult but they shouldn’t treat you like that. it’s wrong, friends aren’t supposed to treat you like that.”
when she noticed you not relaxing into her touch like you normally would she bent down to press a kiss to your temple.
“maybe put the phone down for a bit, yeah? you can always reply later after you’ve had some time away from it.”
you slowly nodded, knowing she was right and placed your phone on the desk. you stood up and faced her, her hands now rubbing your arms comfortingly. you took one look at her sympathetic eyes and started to tear up.
“sweetheart,” abby cooed, hugging you tightly whilst you sobbed into her chest.
“i hate it, abs.”
she started rubbing your back with her warm hand. it pained her to see you like this. she loved you so much and wanted to make sure you were always happy. even though she knew that was impossible, she’d be damned if that would stop her from trying.
“come here,” she said softly as she removed one arm from you to fluff up the pillows, gesturing for you to lie down. you both climbed onto the bed and she immediately bundled you up in her arms again.
“you’ve done more than enough. i truly admire how sweet and caring you are about people,” she kissed your head, “but people should reciprocate the same kindness for you and if they don’t, you shouldn’t feel so obligated to go to those lengths for them.”
“i know, i just don’t want to let them down.”
“you won’t. despite everything, i hope you have a nice weekend, but if you need to call me at any point, do so. please? if you need picking up even, i’m there, okay?”
you nodded against her chest and held her tighter. “okay.”
“thank you. i love you, angel.”
“love you too, abs. thank you.”
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cloudywriting05 · 3 months
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don't delete the kisses
chapter two.
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Coriolanus stared at the back of her head. Was he angry? Intrigued? Upset? All the above? He didn’t know. All he knew was there were two ways to go about it, to have her under his arms, or have her go under. Coriolanus wasn’t insecure about his intelligence up until her arrival. How was it possible she was able to be smarter than both him and his father? It was an insult to the Snow family name for her to be in the same room as him.
He hated her already. He didn’t care that she was painfully gorgeous, or that she seemed sweeter than fruit, easy going or any of the above. If she was at the academy, his entire plan and legacy is threatened. No doubt on earth she would get the Plinth’s prize, absolutely no doubt. Coriolanus needed that money more than life itself. He refused to let a scummy district girl who bought her way into the Capitol take it from him either. 
His irritated thoughts were cut short by the sound of the bell, concluding the class. Coriolanus remained seated, eyes pinned to the back of the girl's head while she packed her book and pencils away hurriedly. The bodies of his classmates rushing towards the exit, he continued to glare, seething in his seat, wondering what he could do to get her under control in some way. The girl seemed to have finally have her stuff arranged, tugged at her skirt, and leaving her seat. Coriolanus, now standing, was still glaring at her; she now noticed. What’s this guy’s problem?she wondered to herself as she continued up the stairs.
“You alright there, blondie?” she asked, stopping at the start of Coriolanus’s row. They stood across from each other in silence for a moment.
Coriolanus, taken aback, admitted to himself she was even prettier up-close, “I’m fine, did I scare you?”
“No, you didn’t. Just try not to stare at me like I stole something from you, and if you are gonna stare– say hi… or something?” she smiled, turning her foot to walk away.
“What’s your name?” Coriolanus blurted out, his own way of getting her to stay.
“What’s yours?”
“Coriolanus Snow,” he said proudly. 
“Ah, so it was you at the top of the academic list– right after me, at-least.”
Coriolanus’s forced smile dropped, instantly angered by the snarky statement at the end, “I guess I’ll just have to learn from you, ma’am.”
“Ma’am? I don’t even look old.”
“Debatable.” Coriolanus snapped back, earning a gasp from her.
“Do you have a problem, Snow?” she asked, the anger in her tone was apparent. She took steps closer towards him, refusing to break eye contact. She raised her head to look Coriolanus in the eye: her nerve impressing him.  
“Not necessarily, doll, just stay out of my way. I don’t really like beggars or district scum; it doesn't matter how pretty or smart they look, or even how rich they appear to be.”
“I don’t necessarily like stuck-up schoolboys with bad bleach jobs but here I am,” she laughed. 
She placed her hand on his arm, sliding it down at an excruciatingly slow pace. “Your anger is reasonable, Coriolanus, but I simply refuse to apologise for being better than you. Second place sucks but are you seriously gonna punish me because you aren’t smart enough?”
“Second place isn’t in my vocabulary, beautiful; I would say whatever floats your boat but I’m not sure if you district people have ever seen water…” he snickered, looking down at the girl. 
She let out a short laugh and rolled her eyes, “Funny one, idiot. You can make fun of me for being from the districts, but you will always be second place to me, a district girl. Hey, at least it’s proof that people in the Capitol can’t buy everything they need– like in your case, braincells.”
“You can charm your way up the top with your pretty eyes, but you will never be Capitol. Never.”
“That shit doesn’t bother me, why would I wanna be grouped with you? Fucking dingus.”
Coriolanus, fuming, watched his new enemy storm off.
-
Coriolanus spent the remainder of his lunch scolding himself for arguing with her. How could he let his jealousy take over like that, and insult her? A part of him was satisfised, yet he felt like a phony. He called her district scum while he didn’t have a penny to his name, it was ironic. He didn’t have a clue on earth was he going to repair the relationship between them, or if he necessarily wanted to. He wondered briefly if it was best that they stayed enemies and ruthlessly competed for the Plinth Prize.  
He walked to his final class, Literature, continuing to ponder about the girl. He slid through the door with his head down.
“Coriolanus Snow, better late than never.” Professor remarked, Coriolanus shot his head up towards him.
“Sorry, I was just putting stuff– “
“It’s alright, Snow. Take a seat.” 
Coriolanus breathed a sigh of relief and looked for a seat, his eyes grazing over the girl he’d been losing his mind over for the past hour. She was glaring at him from the front, she rolled her eyes and turned to face the front again. She sat beside two girls Coriolanus could not name, and in front of Sejanus, who was staring at her as well. What’s that dumb-ass staring at? Coriolanus thought.
The Professor cleared his throat, “As you all know your grades in this class are vital to pass your final year. The assignment for this semester is slightly different from others we’ve done in the past. I’ll assign you a partner, your jobs are to find a novel that’s been adapted into a movie. You are both going to analyse and submit a document detailing what the difference are between both works, and how it positions the audience to feel and think.”
Coriolanus sighed eternally. Partnered work? Sounds like hell, he thought to himself. He hadn’t watched many movies due to the lack of money to rent or buy any. He’d seen a few as a child but could not remember the last movie he’d watched, before his parents’ demises, at-least. 
“I’ve already organised your pairs, please come forth when you hear your name,” the professor requested, taking a seat on his desk, “Coriolanus Snow?”
First, as always. Coriolanus shot up from his chair and made his towards the professor, everyone erupted into pointless conversation. 
“Yes, Professor?”
“I’ve paired you with the recent transfer, you are the closest to her in academic terms– “
“Sorry? Sir, that is a reason to not pair me with her,” Coriolanus protested. His plan was to aim for a grade higher than the girl, not have the same grade as her.
“Snow, I don’t like your tone, neither do I like your back chat. I like you, don’t bug me. Grab your task sheet, collect the girl, and find space in the library and begin your planning. Thank you.” the professor hissed, not raising his eyes off the papers in front of him. 
Coriolanus stood there, stunned. He was going to be stuck with the district girl for weeks completing this assignment. Was this the worst situation? No. He had her to herself, there was still a chance to get on her good side. The idea of being paired with her shifted in his head, he was now eager.
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lunarticxenia · 2 years
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Astrology Observations #4
Haven’t done an observation post in foreverrr so here we go. :) 
👾 Aquarius suns whether they want to admit it or not, LOVE hearing about gossip and drama. Despite being aloof, they are still air signs. They wanna hear the tea. 
👾 Moon-Jupiter aspects give big/prominent boobies. 
👾 Aries suns either spend money like it’s nothing or are totally frugal. 
👾 Vesta Conjunct Sun in synastry scares me a little. It can be a great aspect, but I feel more often than not the Vesta person tends to put the sun person on a pedestal and deifies them. I had this with my ex, and for a lot of the relationship I always put the blame on myself because I saw him as this person who fixed me and could do no wrong. 
👾A lot of Ceres aspects (3 or more) can make someone very curvy/thick. 
👾 Libra Mars got that cake. 
👾 Cancer suns and Scorpio suns I just don’t dig as a couple and here’s why. I feel like Scorpios tend to use the Cancers to heal themselves and they tend to form trauma bonds with Cancers. Obviously this isn’t always the case, but I don’t see them as the perfect soulmates that everyone says they are. I think Cancer + Pisces works well and Cancers with earth signs. Scorpios I think would work well with earth signs, Pisces? Ehhhh maybe.
👾Aries moons 🤝 Scorpio moons having an intense and dark eyes/gaze (if they don’t have really dark eyes, they have a dark gaze)
👾Libra suns and risings LOVE to buy from influencers
👾Cap risings have big or unique teeth. In other words you notice their teeth right away. 
👾I’ve noticed a lot of politicians and famous people have planets at 0 degrees in their chart. So do with that what you will. 
👾I feel like so many Cancer suns have issues with one of their parents or someone in their family, despite being the sign of “family”. 
👾 Cancer moons be giving Shakespearian monologues whenever you’ve made them upset. I would bet my left leg they’ve all had an emo phase at some point in their lives. 
👾Moon Square Mars is an underrated sex appeal aspect tbh. Even if they’re not physically attractive, they still have an attractive way to them. Some celebs w this placement: Marlon Brando, Jessica Chastain, Tiffani Thiessen, James Dean, Kurt Russell, Natalie Wood, and so on. 
👾Sun Square Moon individuals tend to struggle with mental health issues, some celebrity examples: Kanye West, Heath Ledger, Selena Gomez, Jodie Foster, and so on. 
👾Some aspects I’ve noticed that tend to indicate a romantic relationship (or at least potential for it i.e. one person asking out the other) in the Composite chart are: North Node in the 7th, Vertex in the 7th, Juno in the 7th, asteroid Valentine 447 in the 7th house, asteroid Frigga 27 aspecting Venus, and Vertex Conj. Descendant. Some of these are from @factsrological !
👾Aries suns are noodges. LMFAO. They know how to annoy people and push their buttons. 
👾I’ve noticed sapphic women tend to have Venus-Uranus, Mars-Uranus Mars-Neptune, and/or Venus-Neptune placements. Minor degrees included. Not every single woman who has it will be sapphic, but I’ve never noticed a sapphic woman without one. I’ve also noticed Asteroid Sappho making aspects to angles, personal planets, or in angular houses in sapphic women as well. Also for aspecting personal planets and angles, I’ve noticed there usually are 3+ aspects, but this isn’t always the case. For example I have Venus quincunx Neptune, Mars quincunx Neptune, and Sappho aspecting my midheaven, chart ruler (Jupiter), and Saturn. I spent over an hour looking at different charts of sapphic celebrities and that was the general consensus. 
👾Gemini rising stares are underrated. Scorpio risings and Gemini risings have that same smoldering look, except Gemini risings have a more mischievous smoldering look whereas with Scorpio risings its dark and intense. I’ve mistaken Gemini risings for Scorpio risings before. 
👾People with a prominent Asteroid Casanova tend to be players and flirt a lot. People with harsh Casanova aspects esp to their Mars tend to be unfaithful in relationships. I’ve noticed this more in men though.
👾Life of a Cancer stellium: Always being right about people and situations but no one ever listens to you.
👾 I’ve noticed ALOT of Capricorn suns have issues with their father. If not issues, their father greatly influences their lives for better or for worse.
👾 Pluto in the 1st all have the death stare. It’s no joke. LMAO. Every single person I know including myself have this and give scary death stares. Al Pacino has this and you’ve seen his stares in Scarface.  
👾I’ve noticed Cancer placements if sleepy and not near a bed they’ll try to make their own makeshift bed, like when I was at school between classes I would line up a bunch of chairs next to each other and lay down and use my backpack as a pillow. My old boss who’s also a Cancer got a lounge chair and would bend it all the way back and put a giant cushion on it and sleep in the back room.
👾Everyone talks about asteroids conjunct your ascendant, but never talk about the oppositions. I feel like the conjunctions have more of a “comfortable” effect if you will and oppositions can be more strongly felt and are uncomfortable. Like I have asteroid Apollo opposition my ascendant, and I’ve had so many people who try to challenge me, and be intimidated by me for no reason LMAO. Since Apollo conjunct ascendant deals with power and people looking up to someone, I have people trying to “take my power away” and “fight me” for it if you will. Weird shit. Maybe I’ll do a post about it.
*** Next observations are NSFW ***
👾I don’t see Lilith-North Node in synastry talked about a lot. This in synastry means that the individuals teach each other to embrace their dark side and explore their s*xuality if the relationship is romantic or s*xual. Usually the individuals can’t keep their hands off each other. 
👾Not really an observation but Eros and Lilith persona charts can tell you what you’re into s*xually. I have an 8th house stellium in my Eros chart and it makes sense, I’ll just leave it at that.  
👾 A lot of Nessus aspects (3 or more) in the natal chart can make someone s*xually deviant. 
👾 I’ve noticed people with their Mars at 0 degrees tend to not be very s*xual or don’t care much about it, like it happens when it happens, sort of attitude. 
👾 I feel like the s*xual chemistry between Cancer Mars and Libra Mars is incredibly underrated. They’re both into soft and sensual sex, and love the intimacy of m*ssionary. 
👾Asteroid Vesta aspecting Saturn may indicate losing your virginity later in life.
👾 I’ve noticed Libra placements in bed tend to be very into giving, and want to make sure their partner also finishes. 
👾Having a prominent Priapus in your chart makes romantic partners want to have s*x with you right away, and this aspect typically gives a high s*x drive. 
👾Scorpio moons have the bedroom eyes. They know how to undress you with their eyes, and they know how to get you to do it. They have a charm about them that just makes them irresistible. Even if they're not physically attractive, they’re just ~ sexy ~ in some inexplicable way. The people I know with these placements are constantly hooking up and/or dating people with barely any effort.
👾Lilith in the 2nd women tend to be s*xualized in addition to Lilith in the 1st women. It’s not as blatant however, it’s more hidden. For example, they won’t be ogled in the street or be asked straight up to have s*x, but they’ll get to know someone and that person will start saying s*xual stuff to them.
👾Aquarius Eros, Lilith in the 11th, Mars in the 11th, Mars Square Pluto, and Aquarius Mars are into some k*nky shit bro. I’ve noticed people with these placements having particular f*tishes. 
👾Prominent Libra and 7th house placements, as well as Libra and 7th house stelliums may have clothing f*tishes, i.e. denim, leather, etc. 
👾Positive Mars-Saturn aspects, Mars-Mercury aspects, and opposition Mars-Jupiter aspects can indicate a small d*ck, but all other Mars-Jupiter aspects usually indicate a larger sized one. Also both small d*ck aspects and big d*ck aspects in one’s natal chart usually indicates an average sized one. Definitely check @factsrological for more on this! I was inspired by their post. 
👾Those with afflicted 8th house ruling planets tend to have a hard time “being in the moment” during s*x. They might dissociate or feel disconnected from their body. I also see this in people who have a hard time figuring out their sexuality. 
👾 I remember reading somewhere that Neptune rules the org*sm so looking at which house it falls in and which planets it aspects can tell you what you’re like when you org*sm. I forget where I read it, but I’ve found it to be true. My Neptune falls in the 2nd house and I usually eat after having an org*sm. I’m also very loud as well. LMAO. TMI. 
👾Mercury in the 8th house individuals LOVE to read smut and write their own. They’re more into mental stimuli than visual stimuli. They’re also really good at dirty talk. 
👾Aquarius Eros love to be filmed or love the idea of being filmed while m*sturbating or having s*x. They also love the idea of phone s*x and FaceTime s*x. There’s definitely some exhibitionist shit going on here LMAO. The idea of being watched excites them. 
👾Eros in the 3rd house love giving or*l. 
***Back to normal*** 
👾Cancer Mercury and Libra Mercury friendships are so underrated imo. I know the signs are typically squared, but they're similar in a quite a few ways. For example they tend to be underestimated in how “savage” they can be if you will, they can be very ruthless with their words and tend to be looked over. They’re also both very direct people as they are both cardinal signs while sharing a “softness” to their words. Idk, I’ve always gotten along super well with Libra Mercuries. 
👾Aries moons will really stalk and obsess over someone just to get bored of them 2 weeks later. 
👾This one is weird but I’ve noticed that those with outer planets (Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto) in the 3rd house tend to have big lips/mouth or just unique lips/smiles in general. 
👾Sag placements and Gemini placements in the big three tend to have the most expressive faces. 
👾Leo suns, Leo risings, Sagittarius suns, and Sagittarius risings have the best hair, hands down. 
👾Moon in the 1st makes anyone fairly shy. At least at first. 
👾Libra Mars placements are SO moody, but boy do they know how to flirt and charm. Lmao this post talks sm about Libra Mars. 
👾Talking about Lilith in the 2nd again, they’re very cunning. I’ve seen someone else mention this, and I looked into some famous people who have it, and it’s true. They’re very smart and they will do whatever they have to in order to get shit done. They’re ruthless, whether it’s for a good cause or a bad cause. They also have very strong leadership skills and know how to command people- again for both good and evil. Some examples: Pablo Escobar, Hillary Clinton, Napoleon, Winston Churchill, Jim Jones, Nero, etc. 
👾Moon in the 8th individuals have soft eyes. I don’t know why but they just do. You’d think with the Scorpio energy it’d be a piercing gaze, but I’ve always seen individuals with this having a very soft gaze. They have a heavy presence yet their eyes are so soft. Majestic creatures. 
👾People with Pluto in the 7th, Saturn in the 7th, an afflicted or unaspected 7th house ruler, and Scorpio in the 7th, I’ve noticed tend to get into relationships later in life, i.e. they start dating at a later age. 
👾I’ve noticed individuals with Saturn in the 5th either are super into relationships or just super uninterested. I’ve seen this with siblings actually. One sibling is very selective about who they wanna date and isn’t interested in searching for love meanwhile the other one is on 8 different dating apps LMAO. However, I have noticed that this plays out in different ways. For example while this house rules creativity, she’s very creative and wants be a fashion designer, whereas he’s completely not interested in anything creative. Also she loves kids, and he wants nothing to do with them. It’s weird how certain aspects play out. 
👾Mars in the 1st house overlay in synastry is no fucking joke man, I have it with this girl I like and I literally cannot speak around her because I’m in such a state of yearning. Every time we talk I just want to grab her and kiss her. Rip. 
👾Speaking of synastry, 7th house synastry will really have you questioning if you should marry the person even if you don’t like them. I have this with a few people and I’ll randomly start thinking about marrying them and I’m like nope. 7th house synastry at least for me, just fucks with my brain. 
👾Thinking about the time my co-worker liked my other co-worker and she tried to flirt with him by asking for a bite of his ice cream and he told her to get her own. He’s an Aquarius and she’s a Libra, I think that says enough. LMAO. 
👾Unaspected moons tend to be very emotionally cold and closed off, or just have a hard time dealing with emotions in general. 
👾I’ve noticed that people with an afflicted 3rd house planet ruler and/or having it aspect Saturn or Pluto tend to get their driver’s license later than most. (The third house is typically associated with cars, some say the 4th, but I think it’s the third since 3rd house energy is more on the go and 4th house energy is a home-body type of energy). 
👾For some reason I always end up having beef or attracting people with Libra placements at one point or another. I think it’s because of my Mars in the 7th. Weird shit. 
👾Mercury in the 8th people are OBSESSED with revenge and getting back at people who hurt them. I’m speaking for myself but also other people that I know. They just tend to think about shit over and over again. Because of this, I think this also is an anxiety placement since there’s so much overthinking and not being able to move on from past events. Myself and the other people I know with this placement all have some form of an anxiety disorder. 
👾Those with Sagittarius placements in the big three tend to make friends with those of different cultures, religions, races, nationalities, etc. I’m a Sag rising and many of my close friends are Muslim and I was raised Catholic. I also have a good friend who lives in another country as well! I’ve found this to be true with other Sagittarius placements. 
👾I’ve noticed women with Lilith in the 11th get hit on a lot on social media. A couple close friends of mine have this and they’re always getting DMs from thirsty ass dudes LMAO. I’ve also seen this take a dark turn and I’ve seen people they’ve met online get obsessed with them and start stalking them. Obviously if you have this placement it doesn’t mean you’ll get stalked, I’ve just noticed that these placements tend to get a lot of attention from the opposite sex online.
👾Gemini moons despite being super social and funny, there’s still a tinge of awkwardness to them? I think it’s the Mercury energy. Like they’re awkward but in a charming way? I don’t know I’ve just noticed this. They also like to make jokes during awkward moments and laugh at their own jokes if no one else laughs. 
👾Those with harsh Moon-Mars and Moon-Venus aspects in their natal chart tend to attract each other like moths to a flame. People with these harsh aspects also tend to attract those with un-aspected moons. 
👾I’ve noticed that those with Aquarius, Aries, and Sagittarius placements in their big 6 tend to have more radical and unconventional views about politics than others in their time. This is seen in the charts of Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels, AOC, FDR, Bernie Sanders, etc. Not saying every person with these placements has radical political beliefs but I’ve almost never seen a radical and unconventional politician/economist without one.
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billthedrake · 5 months
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BIRD IN THE HAND (PART TWO)
John pulled Cole's body closer. The evening had been perfect. John had made sure it was perfect. He'd figured out the jocky dude didn't seem as impressed by the big-money steak houses John had taken him to on their first dates, even though Cole pretended he did. So he booked an Italian bistro place. More buzzy but also romantic. They'd split a bottle of wine, the conversation flowed, they got dessert.
The Congressional Bro was cute as fuck. Cuter than cute. And funny. It had taken the FBI agent a couple of months to get into Cole's offbeat humor, but now he couldn't get enough. John knew he was a very attractive man, but he felt lucky to be out with this guy.
Cole's hand felt up John's chest as they reclined on his sofa, shoes off but otherwise still in their date-night clothes. Cole Walker almost regretted the way the federal agent's quarter-zip sweater and checked button-down hid that magnificent body. And John had one hell of a body.
"Mmmm... you feel nice, buddy," the 47-year-old agent said was he pulled back and took in the cute face of his date. His hands ran up and down Cole's back. He'd only known the guy for a year now but in that time Cole had packed on some more muscle. Nothing too big, but the dude felt heavier lying on top of him now.
"Yeah," Cole muttered. He had almost a frat-bro way of talking when he wasn't in professional mode. He kept it some in check around older men, too, for some reason, but it was coming out now. A contrast to his deep resonant voice. "I missed this, man."
John had been rehearsing what he'd say in his head. He wanted the timing to be right, and this felt as right a time as any. "I know I've not always been there for you, Cole," he said.
That got a surprise quiet from the younger dude. "I've never put any expectations on you," he said softly.
That made John Ricciardi feel guilty. "Maybe you should have," he blurted. "I mean... you deserve a guy who's a lot less standoffish. You're always there when I want you, whenever I call... I know it's gotta go the other way too."
"Okay," Cole muttered. His heard was pounding heavy now. After his time seeing Paul on Wednesday, he's been mulling over a lot before deciding to kick the can down the road. Turns out John wasn't gonna let him.
"So... my last name is Ricciardi," John said. "But you knew that already."
"He told you," Cole replied in a deep blush. He felt mortified to know that both John and Paul knew that Cole had slept with both brothers, repeatedly. But after a dinner date like just now, clearly John wasn't going through the motions. He decided to hear the man out.
John nodded, his eyes a little impish in their gaze. Even if Paul had a certain authoritative sexiness as an advantage of his younger brother, John had insanely smoldering looks, with green-gray eyes that seemed to suck Cole in. And a better, fitter body, even.
"He told me. I won't lie, I've always had this competitive thing with my older brother. I guess my ego was bruised a little."
"Oh John," Cole started in, but the man interrupted him.
"It's OK, buddy. Lesson learned on my end. I didn't tell you what you mean to me, because I couldn't admit it myself. That's on me."
Cole gulped.
John forced a smile and patted the ex-jock's rump. "I know I spoiled the mood, but I was hoping we'd make it back to the bedroom. The offer still stands for you to stay over if you want."
"For real?" Cole had gone into this date expecting a consolation prize, but now that he was face to face with John Ricciardi, in his arms, he couldn't imagine not see this as his boyfriend.
"I won't blame you if you wanna split." John's eyes were vulnerable and a little moist.
Cole's heart raced as he leaned in, and their lips met. There was that brief, taboo thrill that he'd been with two Ricciardi brothers. He'd spent a day or two processing that knowledge, but now, it turned him on. The way he could recognize the men were similar in a lot of ways, similar in personality even if their approach to sex was very different.
John was the better kisser and the way the law man's tongue danced just inside of Cole's mouth gave the younger man a crazy hardon. As they got deeper into the kiss the ex-jock gripped John's arms through the sweater, feeling the meaty biceps and tris. OF the two Ricciardi brothers, John was even more muscular and had incredibly pumped guns.
The older man could read the hunger in Cole's eyes when they parted. "I wanna be inside you, buddy.... now," he growled.
"Right here?" Cole asked with a naughty grin.
"I was thinking..." John started to clarify things but stopped himself. "Hell, we've never done that." The more he thought it over the more fun the idea seemed. Fucking this hottie in every room of his condo. His face got a playful leer on it. "Why don't you go fetch the lube?"
John pawed his crotch as he watched the young stud bound up excitedly. Cole was technically in his mid-20s now but still had that aura of a Georgetown soccer player. The kind of jock type John would jerk off to regularly. Before the apps, before Cole. He'd still masturbate to relieve the pent up need sometimes, but he enjoyed saving his nut for this young man. It just made the sex more powerful and enabled John to go more than one round if Cole was up for it. He usually was.
The kid practically strutted back into the room. Gone were his jeans and he wore only his button-up shirt, the tails of which opened with each step to show that long jock bone. In his hand was the bottle of lube, which he tossed to John.
"I went ahead and applied some back there," Cole admitted. "I didn't think that you might want to rim first..."
John smirked. He would have been OK with it he guessed, but mostly he was turned on by the idea that Cole wanted his cock badly. "No foreplay this time," he chuckled as he undid his own jeans and shucked them down far enough to let his fat boner pop out free.
Cole gasped at the sight. It was a beautiful dick already, but he realized he'd anticipated a look at it to compare it mentally to Paul Ricciardi's cock. Of course before there had been no reason to put two and two together. But now, the family ressemblance was undeniable. Paul and John looked similar enough, he guessed, but their cocks were almost identical.
"No foreplay," Cole repeated back to John, watching the hunky daddy type apply a thin drizzle of lube to his boner and then hold it up.
"If you need to take it slow, sexy..." John hissed.
Cole shook his head. "No way... I've fucking missed your dick."
John winced a little at that. It had been a solid two weeks since his and Cole's last time together. But even if Paul hadn't shared the details, he had a pretty good idea his brother had been buried inside this hottie just a few days ago. There was that jealous side in him, but he kept his ego in check and told himself the best way to win over a perfect guy like Cole was to be the man Cole wanted. He'd just have to figure his way to do that. And if it didn't work, it didn't work.
Cole, meanwhile, wasn't feeling any emotional complications at that moment. He was in heat. The whole week, after his fateful hook up with Paul Ricciardi, he'd been nervous things would be over with John. Or that the sexual chemistry would be ruined. But fuck, this FBI hunk was if anything hornier than ever. That fat cock felt rock hard as Cole sat down on it.
"Oh fuck, buddy," John muttered.
The entry stung a little, but Cole was determined to show off for John, to show the man he didn't always need the slow and gentle approach. He sank down onto that boner, all the way onto John's crotch.
"Jesus," the man said excitedly.
Cole was breathing heavy, almost hyperventilating as a way to deal with the shock to his insides. But fuck, the action had made John Ricciardi's dick feel big and powerful, and Cole fed off that. He'd been embarrassed sometimes by how much he loved to bottom, and he always worried about the way a man like John might think he was slutty or something.
But John's look up at Cole was one of pure lust and appreciation. Normally, he'd be checking in with the stud to make sure he was OK, but he had an intuitive sense this time, the way Cole's breathing quickly got back to normal and the way that jock dick pulsed excitedly. John gripped the soccer stud's thighs tightly and thrust up into the kid.
"Fuck yes," Cole hissed.
"You need that, buddy?" John asked excitedly.
"I do, man. Fuck."
John's thrusts were getting steady and firm. Fucking into this hot young man. As much as he normally preferred a long session with lots of making out, some teasing BJs and a real deep rim job, this was pretty incredible too. The way both men were keyed up for a quick fuck. Cole riding John's lap and bracing his hands on the man's burly chest. But mostly John fucking now, unable to get enough of the sweet slick sensation of Cole Walker's insides.
His brother had felt that too, had fucked the Walker kid, just like he was doing now. Before that would have brought the jealous flashes on, but now it just fed his excitement and the quivering pleasure in his cock. He pushed up into Cole's perfect, young body harder and faster.
"Unbutton your shirt, sexy," he hissed. His fingers now like talon's in Cole's quad muscle. As fun as it was to mate still mostly clothed, John wanted to see the dude he was nailing.
Cole had to steady his balance as his bracing hand left to undo the shirt and open it up. That had the effect of making the ex-jock core contract into a tight washboard ripple.
John fucked faster now, and guided Cole's hips up and down to exaggerate the penetration. This was intense.
"God yeah... fuck me, sir." Cole pleaded.
It was the first time Cole had dropped the s-word and John was surprised how much it turned him on. His eyes took in all of this young man's naked beauty as he felt his orgasm come on.
"Oh shit... cum in me... breed me..." Cole was losing any self consciousness about his bottomy need.
John's hips were a blur. Did Paul fuck the kid like this?
"FUCK!" he cried, loudly.
Cole's face broke into a big excited smile as he watched the lawman get his nut. John Ricciardi was so crazy handsome, but his face became something primal in orgasm.
The man's hips had frozen, locked in place to load Cole up, but Cole's hips undulated gentle against that pulsing hardon, milking out every drop he could.
As that big O began to crest, Cole gripped his own hardon.
It was John's turn to help out, he thrust up into Cole's body, not as hard now, but with enough force to press against that butt nut.
"Harder," Cole asked. More than he anticipate the angle was making his prostate sing.
John got an excited grin as he started going at it again. He had maybe a minute tops before his dick got too sensitive for this. But hopefully it wouldn't take this jock stud a minute.
Cole felt it, he really felt it. That thick Ricciardi prick now a battering ram against his sensitive inner gland. And the sloppy feeling of John's heavy load coating the way. He jerked and felt it coming.
On the spur of the moment he decided he'd try it. Right on the cusp, he let go. John's pounding prick did the rest. Cole was cumming like crazy, the sperm being pushed out of him in heavy jets. There was that intense light headed orgasm again. Maybe not exactly a Paul Ricciardi orgasm, but close.
Only when he came down from the high and regained full consciousness, did he feel mortified by what he'd down.
"Oh fuck, your sweater," Cole said. "Sorry... "
Indeed that preppy-dad style quarter-zip sweater was splotched all over with Cole's seed. Some was on John's handsome face too, which smiled in amusement.
"Ha, it'll wash out, buddy. Anyway, it was worth it. That was totally fucking hot."
Cole leaned back, displaying his body for John. He was with one of the hottest guys in DC and that was some heavy competition. But the 23-year-old knew he had the goods too, knew Ricciardi was crazy about him. "It was hot," he said. "Glad we could mix it up some."
John nodded. His prick was softening now, and he loved the wet sensation of its retreat. "Damn Cole... tell me what I gotta do to keep you. In the bedroom, out of the bedroom... if there's something I can do, I'll fucking do it, OK?"
With another guy John's approach, his emotional neediness would come across as too much. Even with Cole, from another guy it might not have worked. But he climbed off this hunk and felt his heart pound. Maybe it was the sex that hard worn his defenses down. "You know, John, I just want a fucking boyfriend. I don't know how to make that happen even, but fuck, I've been telling myself I don't want one, but I do."
John gave an empathic nod and got up off the couch, too. He was taller than Cole, by several inches and the younger man felt comforted to feel John's strong arms wrap around him and pull him close.
"We'll make it happen, buddy. In a way that works for you. But I'd be honored to be your boyfriend."
Their lips met and they made out, John leaning his head down to claim dominance in the kiss.
"Damn, bud... you hard again?" he finally asked with a chuckle.
"Maybe, yeah," Cole laughed.
John patted the young stud's rump. "All right, let me clean up some of the mess we made and we can take our time for round two."
It would take him a bit to recover and recharge. Maybe even an hour. John Ricciardi was feeling every bit his middle age and maybe had no business being with a 23-year old. But he'd decided he was gonna be every bit of the powerhouse sex stud this young man wanted him to be.
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lunagojo · 1 year
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Various Anime Boys: Being Told "I love you" For the First Time (Part 4!)
Full disclaimer about this part, this is a partial revision of the first part, I decided to go more in depth with the first few guys I did :) I will continue to revise the rest of the boys I did in the first part <3 Please enjoy!
Featured: Satoru Gojo, Dabi / Touya Todoroki, Giyuu Tomioka
Warnings: Dabi being a bit rude
~ Part 1 ~ ~ Part 2 ~ ~ Part 3 ~ ~ Part 5 ~
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Satoru Gojo
(love of my life <3)
“Y/NNNNNNNNN. Let’s go do sooommmeeethinnnnngggg. This is boooooring.” Satoru whined, reclining on your couch.
“You’re the one who decided to come over when you knew damn well I’m working on my thesis, Satoru.” You replied, brows furrowed in concentration as you typed away at your desk. The deadline for your paper was fast approaching and you were stressed, to say the least. That much Satoru could tell.
He stretched himself out, long limbs dangling off the sides of the plush sofa. “Why d’you need to do this stuff anyway? All it does is stress you out n’ keep you away from me.”
You had been friends with Satoru for years now, having met him back when you worked at a cake shop. You had commented on how his spending there would finance your whole university tuition, and it had gone from there.
He was handsome, of course. But also funny, endearing, and so unbearably annoying. But he did have a heart of gold, you had to admit, and a very blunt manner of speaking to say the least. He didn’t mince words when it came to people he didn’t like, and that was something that you admired. He spent so much money on you, too; you couldn’t understand why. Satoru insisted that he was merely giving you what you deserved, but some of the gifts had been of the more sentimental and intimate variety, like the custom made locket necklace he had made for you, when you had mentioned your grandmother had one just like it.
Suffice it to say, you had feelings for him, strong ones. But a small part of you had doubts, which would creep up just when you had mustered the strength to tell him. Satoru Gojo was a beautiful, strapping young man, perfect in nearly every way. How could he ever see you as anything more than a friend?
You snorted. “If I don’t get this in I’ll fail and I’ll have to repeat the whole year, and that’ll set me back. I need to make something of myself, Toru.”
He rolled off the couch and strolled over to your desk, placing his hands on your shoulders. “What if you took a break though? Just for tonight? C’mon, I miss you.”
You looked over your shoulder to see glimmering big blue eyes peering at you, a soft pout on Satoru’s lips. “You’re such a child,” You sighed, but relented for now. After all, he was here and he was doing nothing but distracting you. And a break did sound nice. “Fine. What do you wanna do?” You asked, resting back in your desk chair.
“Something fun.”
“Like…?”
“Iunno, let’s go out! Let’s see what’s playing at the theatre or if they got my favourite cake back in stock at the shop!” He pulled you out of your chair, grinning.
“Oh, of course.” You rolled your eyes, but you did enjoy seeing him smile. He was annoying as hell, but you had to admit…it was kinda cute. You stood, going to grab your keys. “Or, we could go stock up on snacks, find some dumb movies, come back here and stay up til 4 AM.” You suggested with a smile. Satoru’s smile widened and he grasped your hand eagerly.
“Yes! You’re a genius, Y/N! Let’s go!” He started to pull you toward the door.
“Hah, I love you, Satoru, you dork.”
He froze in place, looking back at you with huge eyes. “Wha?”
You blinked. “What?”
“You said you love me.”
“I did?” You looked confused.
“Yeah, you did.” He turned and smooshed your cheeks in his palms. “Do you mean it? You’re not just pulling my leg, are you? ‘Cause that would be beyond cruel, Y/N. I have a heart too, y’know!”
You chewed on your lip, heat rising in your face. You did love him. He was an idiot, but you didn’t want him to be anyone else’s idiot. Slowly you nodded, placing a hand over one of his.
His blue eyes softened and he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “Tell me again.” He murmured.
“I love you, Satoru Gojo.” You replied in a whisper, your eyes half-lidded but still locked on his.
Without second thought his lips met yours and he kissed you tenderly, his fingers tucking through your hair. You swore you could hear his heart thudding in his chest. When he pulled away, hesitantly, he smiled and grabbed your hand again.
“Dunno if we’re gonna be watching all too much of the movies,” He said with a wiggle of his brows. “But we can still try, I’m a good multitasker.” He looked back at you, his grin widening. “And, in case it wasn’t obvious, Y/N, I love you, too. I always have.”
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Dabi / Touya Todoroki
(I love him sm, he deserved so much better... :( )
You were busy doing your university homework when you heard a tap on your window. Yep, it was 3 AM, about that time. Without hesitation you got up and went to the window, sliding it open.
Hazy blue eyes met yours as booted feet landed on the floor. “Thought you were gonna leave me out here to fuckin’ freeze.” Dabi said, grumbling as he maneuvered his way in.
“I came here as soon as I heard you,” You argued back. Never a thank you from Dabi, even though he had been crashing at your place for the past six months. You both had met almost a year ago, when the League of Villains had crossed your path on your way home from work one night. Their leader, some guy with a hand on his face, wanted to kill you in case you were gonna narc on them, but for some reason, a couple of the others in the group had stopped him. Dabi wouldn't stop staring at you that night.
Since then he'd show up at your place every night around 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning. He claimed it was because the cops and heroes would never suspect him to be hiding out in a random civilian's home, but you were somewhat suspicious of the validity of that. After all, he'd said it'd only be for a couple weeks and here you were six months later.
“Is your hot water back on again?” He asked casually, kicking off his boots. “I fuckin’ smell.”
“What kind of trouble did you get up to tonight?” You asked, wrinkling your nose. “You smell like a lawnmower.”
Dabi snorted. “None of your damn business, brat.” His words were harsh but his tone was almost tired. “Is it on again or not?”
You nodded, “Yeah, it's on. Washed the clothes you left the other night, too.”
Once again, not a thank you in sight as he went off to your bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You sighed. What were you doing? Why were you going to all this trouble for someone like him? You could just as easily lock your window and cut him off, but you didn't want to. A part of you felt that he needed someone to help him, be there for him. You could tell it was hard for him to show any sort of emotion other than gruff and bothered…and you could sense he had more pain and heartbreak than most people realized.
You went back to work on your homework, quietly writing away in your notebook. You tried to ignore the sound of the bathroom door opening and Dabi walking down the hallway.
Warm breath fanned across the back of your neck suddenly and you shivered in response.
“Why do you bother with this crap?” Dabi asked, leaning over your shoulder. He smelled like your body wash. You tried to hide the telltale blush growing on your face.
“Counter question. Why are you here, Dabi? It's been six months.”
“You know why, dumbass.”
You turned in your seat. “You're here every night now, you use my shower, sleep on my couch, eat my food, and I don't get any sort of appreciation or even a thank you. I'm harboring a fucking criminal in my apartment and you don't seem to be bothered.”
Dabi raised an eyebrow. “Yknow I could ask the same of you. Why do you keep letting me in, then? Washing my clothes, too, getting me those snacks I told you I like…why do you fuckin seem to care so much?!”
“Because I'm in love with you!” You blurted suddenly, hands balled into fists.
Dabi stood there, stunned. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You really are nuts, then.”
You breathed out a laugh, tears stinging your eyes. Turning back to your work, you tried to focus on your writing again. “Just leave me alone, Dabi.”
“Nah, don't think I will.” A hand slid along your shoulder. “Put that shit away and look at me, for God's sake.”
With a heavy sigh, you did as he said, only to be met with rough lips on yours. A sound of surprise escaped your throat but you melted into the kiss, fingers finding Dabi's damp black hair.
“There's a million places I could hide out,” he said against your mouth. “But I keep coming back here. Something pulls me back every time. I've never felt what love is, brat, but when I think of what it must feel like, I think of you.”
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Giyuu Tomioka
(T_T i just wanna hug him and give him the love he deserves)
You had never seen Giyuu smile in the time you had known him. You two were close friends, but time spent with the Water Hashira was quiet and tranquil. You knew it was just the way he was, and didn’t mind it, but you had begun to wonder if he ever smiled at all. In the time that you had known each other, you had formed a deep bond and understanding of one another. It took you a long time to realize that you had feelings for him, but you could never tell him. It would ruin everything you both already had.
You two were returning from a mission one night, battered and exhausted from the fight you had just endured, and were intent on finding some place to sleep for the night. Ubuyashiki’s mansion and the Butterfly Manor were too far away, so it seemed like the only option for you both was to find an inn to rest in for the night, and then you could return properly the next morning.
You both finally found a place to stay for the night, but the owner of the inn charged you two an exorbitant amount of yen to stay. Giyuu huffed and, irritated, paid the man, before leading the way to your room silently. He had been dead silent the whole time you had traveled back, and this time, you were worried. Normally he would ask if you were okay or if you needed anything, but this time he was quiet.
“…Are you serious?” Giyuu asked, to nobody in particular, when he opened the sliding door. Only one futon.
You looked over his shoulder at the room and sighed. You had been looking forward to just going to bed after the hell you two had been through.
Giyuu sighed and ran a callused hand over his face, his blue eyes narrowed.
You glanced at him. “…Giyuu…You take the futon, I can just…figure something else out.”
“No.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”
“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor after what we just went through. We’ll just have to…sleep together, I suppose.” He looked away quickly, a small blush on his face.
“Sleep together?”
“Not…not like that,” He replied quickly, his face turning from pink to full-blown red. “Just…just sleeping. Beside each other.”
“If you’re okay with that, Giyuu, then I am.” You offered him a small smile, momentarily placing a hand on his arm as you entered the room. He was incredibly tense.
You both bathed first, one at a time, then returned to the room. Giyuu had gone first, and when you came back, he was perched on the futon, his haori and Demon Slayer Corps uniform folded neatly on the floor with his nichirin sword laid atop. He still had his underclothes on, but his torso was bare. You paused, studying his bare back and the various scars that adorned his pale skin. Your heart hurt when you suddenly realized how much Giyuu must have been through. Was that why he was so quiet, and distanced himself from everyone else?
“You’re letting all the cold in,” Giyuu said suddenly, startling you.
“Oh. Right. Sorry…” You quickly shut the sliding door behind you, setting your own clothing down on the floor before crawling under the thick comforter and settling on the futon. It felt heavenly to finally rest your weary, sore muscles.
Giyuu watched you for a moment before following your lead, settling in beside you. His blue eyes scanned your face.
“…What?” You asked, “Did I miss a spot of dirt on my face or something?”
“No,” Giyuu replied, a small tinge of pink rising in his face.
“Giyuu…”
“I’m…going to sleep. Goodnight, Y/N.” He said quietly, starting to roll onto his other side, so he would be facing away from you. You caught him by the arm, however, stopping him.
“…Have you been doing okay, lately? You’re way quieter than usual…I’m getting a bit worried about you.” You told him, your eyes meeting his again.
The Water Hashira sighed, “…I’ve been thinking.”
“About?”
“You.”
“Me?” You looked surprised. “Why?”
“…Because you terrify me.” He replied, and if you hadn’t seen the look on his face you would have thought he was joking.
“…Why?”
“It…doesn’t matter. Let’s just go to sleep, okay.” He sighed, closing his eyes.
Something came over you then. You didn’t know what it was, but you acted without really thinking it through first. Your hands cupped his face and you gently kissed him. It only lasted for a moment, but when you pulled away, Giyuu was looking at you with wide, stunned eyes.
His mouth moved, trying to form words, but nothing came out. “Wha…”He finally gasped out. “Why’d you…”
“…Because I love you, Giyuu. And I didn’t want to say anything because I was worried that it would ruin everything, and I’m sorry if it has, I just couldn’t—” You were cut off by another kiss, one instigated by him this time.
You gazed at him in surprise.
“You terrify me,” Giyuu said, holding your face in his hands. “Because I feel things for you that have been foreign to me for so long. I was…too afraid to say anything.” His lips pulled into a small but genuine smile. The first smile you had ever seen from him.
“I love you, too, Y/N.”
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Washed Up (Chuuya x Reader)
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Just look at him! So cute, I just wanna love him up!! 
Anygays Nice to meet y’all I’m Mars. I really hope you liked this and I am open to requests because I want to start posting on here. 
We basically wash his hair and pamper him because he’s best boy and he freaking deserves it! I love this short king so much, all the kisses to him. P.s we have the same height.
Bye now - Mars ♡
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Chuuya stares at your naked body with a flushed face, honestly when did he get so lucky. All the words you were saying lost to his ears until you snapped your fingers a couple of times.
“Where did you go?” You tease and offers him your hand, “Come on get out your clothes and in here” smiling sweetly at him.
You and Chuuya have been dating for almost a year now and it has been one hell of a ride. He was such an amazing lover, always so kind and caring and you felt the need to overcompensate to pay him back. He spent too much money on you. At this point you were convinced he just had a shopping addiction and was using you as an excuse.
You sat down in the bathtub, smiling as you remembered how he teased you for choosing the last pink bath bomb earlier.
Chuuya strips eagerly and steps into the bathtub and sits down between your legs, resting his back against your chest and allowing his head to fall onto your shoulders.
“Chuu-“
“Just let me stay like this for 5 seconds darling” he whispered and when your eyes fell upon his face, he had his eyes closed and a slight smile on his face.
The urge to kiss him was too strong to resist so that’s what you did, you kissed him on the tip of his nose. The action seemed to take Chuuya by surprise as his eyes shot open and stared at you.
“Giving into an impulsive thought, you didn’t even look that cute” You defended yourself and he laughed and sat up. “Oh please you know you love me”
“I will think about that and get back to you within 3 to 5 business days” You teased and wet his hair, applying some shampoo to your hands and rubbing them together, “Tell me if I’m being too rough” Applies the shampoo to his wet hair and massages his scalp gently.
He lets out a soft sigh and lowers himself again onto your chest, the back of his head smashing against your breast. “feels nice” he comments shutting his eyes and resting his hands on your legs.
“Don’t fall asleep on me now or else I’ll pull your hair”
“Don’t mind, like that” He smiled with his eyes stilled close basking in his little moment of victory.
You rolled your eyes even though he can’t see, “I can’t stand you”
“I’ll make you levitate then” he cuts back clearly liking this back to back banter the two of you are sharing right now.
“I’ll rub shampoo in your eyes” You whip, clearly enjoying this more than you’d like to admit. “Does it feel alright?” Still massaging his scalp, you gently stroke your fingers through his hair.
“Doin’ fine love”
Rinsing out the shampoo and adding conditioner to his hair you continue massaging it in. The silence in the room being comfortable and relaxing. If it wasn’t for his hands gently stroking your thighs you would have assumed he fell asleep.
“Like doing this for you” you comment as you wash out the conditioner, “want to pamper you a lot you work so hard” at this point you’re whispering. For why? You don’t know, your walls aren’t thin because surely one of your neighbors would have filed a noise complaint already with the way Chuuya have you some days or rather… some nights.
Chuuya only hums, clearly relaxed and enjoying this, you lean down and kisses his forehead, “when I adopt my pup I’m not spoiling you like this anymore” you can’t help but want to rile him up. His reactions are always so cute. You and Chuuya talked about getting a puppy together. You both thought it would be a good idea to have a little fluff ball running around the apartment.
“You’d neglect me over a dog? And here I thought you loved me” he says dramatically placing his palm over his chest.
“I do love you but I just know I’ll love my baby more” you giggle when he opens his eyes and looks up at you with a scowl on his face. “I’ll go down to the pet shop and tell them we’ve changed our minds.”
You stare at him with wide eyes, “You wouldn’t dare” Logically you know he wouldn’t. That man was smitten for you, he would never do something like that when he knows how happy it’ll make you.
“Promise to never ever ever stop pampering me?” he smiles sweetly like he wasn’t threatening to take away your, yet to be adopted, child.
“Now you’re just exploiting me” you turn your face away and whisper a small ‘fine’.
“Didn’t quite hear that, some water must have gotten into my ears” he chuckles, “I said fine you bastard” you bend down and kiss his lips feeling him smile against you before kissing you back, “Fine I will continue to spoil you rotten you big softie”
“I will drown you in this tub” Chuuya threatens.
“Love you too sweet cheeks” you bite his right cheek playfully.
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hinus · 2 months
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I, Unfortunately, Need Help
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>>> https://ko-fi.com/hinusart <<<
To cut it short, I'm asking for donations...I'm sorry I haven't been active let alone posting any new art, but I've not been in the mental space to do so and I don't really have the time for it right now. I want to, but, mentally, I've been in a daily nightmare. I'm currently receiving treatment for my issues for the first time in 6 years but that's sort of risking being pushed to the side. I'm about to be extremely tight on money, as in risking missing important payments on debt & other basic necessities tight. I still have my main job, but surprise surprise -- having two major surgeries and moving in a single year has left me absolutely strapped for cash and deeper in debt than I'd like to admit since I missed more work that I would've liked because of those things. I've applied to over 30 jobs, had several interviews, with no luck actually landing a second job and every day I've spent working hours while barely managing my mental health and it's led me to procrastinating things I should've had done by now.
I'm extremely embarrassed, and honestly ashamed, but I've wrung my options dry, I have no one to turn to for support financially as I basically have no family now, and I genuinely don't know what to do other than panic, and panic. So here I am, unfortunately asking for any generosity people can give so I can dig myself out of this hole. I want to go back to Morgott posting and being silly, but the past 2 years has basically rocket thrusted me into new lows despite being in a better place.
All in all, I have to take $2,000 of my earnings from work and put it into paying off taxes, which is way more than I had calculated I'd owe, and I'll be honest, that is well over what I make in a month sometimes. I only have like $200 in savings and that's just enough to cover internet & electric bills. I'm pushing to work as many hours as possible, and I'm still job hunting with very little luck but it's coming down to the wire for when its due and I feel like I'm going to pull my hair out.
So uh, if you wanna help a trans fella out, a few dollars is appreciated. I'm going to try and at least make some new content soon if anxiety doesn't get to me to make up for my absence.
Thank you, for any and all help, even if I don't make it anywhere close to that amount, even if I have to put all my income into it, even just a few donations would be enough to cover smaller bills to get me through this.
>>> https://ko-fi.com/hinusart <<<
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