#These deserve a special folder all of their own

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bob asks you to go out for drinks at the Hard Deck as a thank you for helping out all week, and there's a special someone waiting for you when you get there. After meeting some of Bradley's other friends, the bubble you had been living in bursts, and you're left questioning everything. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing

Length: 3300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

You managed to bumble your way through practice with Bob on Monday, mostly running around in your suit and taking care of whatever he needed. Your phone conversation with Bradley the night before had left you with just a few functioning brain cells, so it was a good thing you didn't need to take charge.

In fact, if you were left to your own thoughts for too long, you started thinking about how wet his voice made you. And you kept picturing the photo of his hard cock that you had shamelessly saved to your phone in a locked folder with personal items such as your tax return.

You felt flustered all week, and to make matters more interesting, Molly surprised you at practice on Thursday. 

"I had the day off!" she told Everett, scooping him into a hug when he climbed out of the car. The absence of the Bronco made you frown a bit as you circled your car to where your sister was tickling Everett. 

You kissed her cheek. "We had no idea you'd be here!"

She grinned at you as she sent Everett ahead toward the bleachers. "I have a date tonight," she sang in an obnoxious voice. "With Coach Cute Glasses."

"You do?" you gasped, happy Bob had taken the initiative. 

"Yep. We're going on a little stroll through the park after practice and then grabbing a late dinner."

"Molly!" you squealed, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her. "Bob is so sweet. Do not ruin him."

She turned to look at him out on the ballfield, and a soft smile touched her lips. "I make no guarantees." You and she started walking, and she held your high heels for you as you changed out of them. "Oh, and actually, Bob has something he wants to ask you, too."

"Me? What?" You had no idea what your sister was talking about, but as soon as you got to the bleachers, Bob came over to the three of you as you changed Everett's shoes.

"Hi, Molly," he said softly, and you watched your sister do the unthinkable. She planted one hand firmly on his chest like it belonged there, and she kissed him on the cheek. You watched him turn bright red, and all of the other moms looked like they were about to reach for their pitchforks. 

"Hey, Coach Cute Glasses," Molly said with a laugh that had Bob fiddling with his whistle. "I'm excited for our plans tonight."

Sandra and Tara appeared about ready to rage, looking between you and your sister like the two of you had stolen the most priceless of treasures. But you supposed you kind of had.

When Bob finally recovered, he asked you, "Team Mom? Can I take you out for a drink tomorrow evening as a thank you? I wouldn't have made it through the game last Saturday or the practices this week without your help."

"I'll stay with Ev for you," Molly added, nodding her head. "You deserve it."

"Oh, that's not necessary, Bob," you protested, but then Molly was glaring at you. "Okay, sure," you said, sending Everett out to start warming up. 

"Great," Bob said, and you followed him out to home plate as Molly sat down on the bleachers. "There's a Navy officer hangout called the Hard Deck. You want to meet me there after work?"

"Sounds good. Thanks, Bob."

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

Bradley felt a little dirty every time he pulled up the photos you sent him, but he really enjoyed scrolling through the progression of seeing you in your bra to seeing you bare for him. You were something else. So sexy. So funny. So smart.

It was Friday morning, and he had one more flight simulation to go. And if he skipped lunch, he could probably get home by dinnertime. Bob had mentioned that he was taking you to the Hard Deck for drinks tonight, and Bradley desperately wanted to get back in time for that. He couldn't wait to see the look on Nat's face when she met you.

Bob had also told him about his date with Molly. He gushed about how much he liked her for fourteen messages in the text thread, and Bradley didn't know how Bob managed to pull this one off.

Bradley hit the road for the long drive back to San Diego, deciding to skip changing out of his uniform. His khakis weren't the most comfortable thing in the world, but at least he'd get back sooner. He wound along the coastal roads, passing some ballfields on the way. He was pretty sure Everett would be able to make a real pitch team by next spring, but Bradley was definitely going to have to work on some things with him before then. It was okay, they had almost a year to get him there.

Bradley had also been thinking about what he could tell the kids in Everett's class about aviation during his career day speech. The fact that Bradley was looking forward to that still kind of shocked him.

The sun was setting when Bradley pulled into the Hard Deck parking lot, and he spotted your car right away. Then he spotted you, heading for the entrance in your tight, black skirt and heels.

"Kitten!" he called out the open window, and you spun around to face him with a smile on your face. He quickly found an empty parking space and barely had the Bronco in park before you were there. "I missed you," he said, climbing down and closing his door. 

Your arms were instantly around his neck, and you were kissing him so sweetly. "I didn't know you would be here," you whispered against his lips. Your hand trailed down his chest to play with his pins while you nibbled on his lips. 

"I drove straight through to get back to you sooner, Kitten." That seemed to do something to you as you parted your lips and tasted his tongue.

He turned and pinned you against the Bronco, licking and kissing his way up your neck. "You look hot in your uniform," you moaned. 

"You wore my favorite skirt," he mumbled, and you gasped as he ran his palm down the front of it. You were rubbing yourself against him with your fingers tangled up in his hair, and Bradley was hard as a rock for you. 

"Bradley," you whimpered as he nuzzled his nose down the front of your blouse. He kissed and tasted the tops of your breasts while you scraped your nails along his scalp. You were so sweet. His mind was flooded with thoughts of getting you in his bed with your tight skirt bunched up around your waist and your pussy overflowing with his cum.

He kissed you hard, making the back of your head tap the side window. "Can I take you home, Kitten? Skip the bar?"

You eyed his face in the dim, dusk light. "Yes, but I need to have one drink first," you promised him, running your fingers along his mustache. "I told Bob I'd meet him."

Bradley groaned and kissed your fingertips and then your palm and the inside of your wrist. "Just one drink. Then I get some alone time with you."

When Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist, you snuggled in next to him, kissing his bicep just below his uniform sleeve. "I can't believe you wear this out in public," you muttered, running your fingers along his pins again. "I think I changed my mind. Let's leave now."

Bradley chuckled and held the door open for you, guiding you inside the noisy bar with his hand at your lower back. "One drink," he reminded you. "Then you're mine, Kitten."

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

You felt warm and flushed all over as Bradley guided you through the crowded bar. There were people in uniforms and some in civilian clothes, and you spotted Bob near the pool table as he waved to you. 

"Team Mom!" he announced as you and Bradley neared him. "And Rooster, you made it back," he added, fist bumping Bradley. You had never heard anyone use his call sign before, and it made you laugh. 

"I forgot your name was Rooster," you said, smiling up at his face as he lazily rubbed your back. "What's yours, Bob?"

You watched his cheeks flush in embarrassment. "It's actually just Bob."

"Oh," you said, thoroughly confused as you were immediately introduced to a beautiful woman who went by Phoenix.

"So, she's the Team Mom," she said with a devilish grin in Bradley's direction. "I think that would be your aviator call sign. Team Mom. Also, I'm still pissd you don't have another sister." Phoenix sighed and shook her head at you.

You laughed as she offered to buy you a drink, but then Bob stepped in. "No, it's on me! It's the least I can do since you gave up so much of your time this week to fill in for Bradley. What do you like?"

Bradley leaned down and kissed your temple and murmured, "Expensive champagne." He was making your tummy feel warm, the way he was being so affectionate in front of his friends and colleagues. You turned to look at him and he kissed you softly. 

You pulled away, suddenly feeling shy; five more minutes in the parking lot with him and you'd have been fucking on his backseat, but apparently this was too much.

"I'll have a beer. Thanks, Bob," you managed, cuddling up next to Bradley's side as Bob headed to the bar. 

"Hey, Rooster. You playing us a song tonight?" drawled a handsome blond man who was smirking at you. 

Bradley glanced down at you. "You like Great Balls of Fire?" he asked.

You gave him a strange look. "As long as you're talking about the song and not some sort of medical condition, then yes, I do."

Bradley started laughing with his head tipped back, and you grinned as the handsome blond laughed, too. "You're funny. My name's Jake," he said, shaking your hand as Bradley meandered a few feet away to sit down at the piano. 

You introduced yourself to Jake and listened to the tinkling sound of the keys as Bradley warmed up. You had no idea he was musically gifted, but you were excited to hear him play. He was probably one of those severely annoying people who was good at everything. He started playing the song, and even his singing voice was good. 

"So, how do you know Rooster and Bob?" Jake drawled, drawing your attention back to him just as Bob handed you a pint of beer. 

You thanked him and took a sip. "My son is on their tee ball team."

"How old's your kid?" Jake asked, smiling at you in a way that had you a little flustered. 

"He's almost seven." You were still distracted by Bradley, and now he was looking at you as he played. He winked only at you, even though he was starting to draw a crowd.

"I love kids," Jake informed you. "Hey, when you're done that beer, let me buy you another one."

"Oh, okay," you agreed, and then Bob called over to Jake.

"Come on, Hangman. Leave our Team Mom alone!"

Jake looked at you with renewed interest as you drank your beer. "Oh shit. So you're the Team Mom. I've heard a lot about you."

You were really surprised. "You have?" you asked as Bradley finished playing the song. You clapped for him along with everyone else, and then he was making his way back over.

"Yeah," Jake replied with a laugh. "You're the hot mom that Bradley is never going to date, because moms aren't his thing."

Your smile immediately vanished from your face. "What?"

Jake waved his hand in the air while he sipped his drink, as if you were supposed to know exactly what he was talking about. As if you weren't immediately on high alert and having a difficult time breathing. "You know...too much baggage. Complicated. Not worth the aggravation. That sort of shit."

You were frozen in place, barely able to speak. "He said that?" Your voice sounded tiny and your throat was tight. You ran your fingers along your neck, trying to make sense of this.

"Yeah, he went on and on the one night we were all hanging out."

Bradley had told his friends he would never date you. He had said you were too complicated. He told them you weren't worth his time. And now he was walking your way, smiling at you like you were still expected to go back to his place after this and let him fuck you. That had been his plan the entire time.

"But listen," Jake added. "I don't feel that way at all. If you're interested, I'd love to take you out to dinner." You thought maybe Jake was a little drunk, because he couldn't stop talking and then he reached out and stroked your cheek with his knuckles.

You gently grabbed his hand and guided it back to his side, just as Bradley rushed over with an irate expression. 

"The fuck?" he asked Jake.

"Hey, it's cool, man. I get it," Jake replied. "She's so hot, I can't believe you won't date her just because she has a kid. But good for you for getting her to agree to come out tonight. No reason you can't enjoy her."

You gasped and took a step away, knowing you needed to escape now with your dignity intact, but Bradley was immediately focused solely on you.

"Kitten."

You handed your pint glass to a random person, and then you were stumbling over your own feet, trying to get to the door as quickly as you could. Time seemed frozen, and you felt like you were going to throw up as you rushed past people who were happy and laughing. You could vaguely hear Bradley's voice behind you as you tried to get away. 

Once you were outside, you sucked in a deep breath of the salty air and fumbled in your pocket for your car key as you started running.

"Kitten!" he yelled, and you could hear the crunch of his boots on the gravel, and you knew that you would never be able to outrun him. So you skidded to a halt and rounded on him instead. A lot of things in your life were scary, like paying your bills, and making sure Everett had everything he deserved. But you would not be too afraid to stand up for yourself. You would not let another arrogant asshole determine your behavior for you.

As Bradley stopped abruptly in front of you, his face was illuminated by a street light, and you hated him for being so handsome. "Kitten. I can explain," he promised, holding up his hands in surrender. His brown eyes were wide as he searched your face.

"Did you tell your friends I'm too complicated to date?" you asked, voice steady as you stepped into his personal space.

"Yes, but-"

You stomped your foot, effectively silencing him. "Did you refer to my son as baggage?"

"Yes, but Kitten, I can explain."

You slapped him hard across the cheek, but his gaze never wavered. 

"I don't need you to fucking explain anything to me!"

"Please." He was pleading, his chest rising and falling as his expression was filled with panic. "Kitten."

"Stop calling me that. I can't believe you were just leading me on for fun."

"I wasn't," he insisted. "I wouldn't do that."

You just scoffed at him and shoved his chest. He grabbed gently for your hands, but you yanked them away and took a step back as tears filled your eyes. "I can deal with getting played, but not Everett! His dad already bailed on him, and I won't let him feel unwanted by anyone ever again! We come as a fucking package deal!"

Bradley was running his hands through his hair in dismay. "I care about both of you." His voice sounded choked up, and you wanted to believe him, but now you knew better.

You jabbed him in the chest with your index finger. "You're a liar," you told him as your tears finally spilled over. "Stay away from us outside of tee ball practice."

"Kitten." He tried reaching for you again, but you backed away, bumping into a parked car which made you cry harder.

"I need to figure out how to deal with Ev," you sobbed. "And don't you dare ever speak to me again." 

You ran for your car as you tried to take gulps of air into your burning lungs, swiping away the tears that were obscuring your vision. It took you a few tries to get the key in the ignition with your shaking fingers, but when you did you cranked the engine and pulled away. You could see Bradley in your rearview mirror as he dropped down into a squat in the dark parking lot with his head in his hands. 

The short drive back to your house was filled with the sound of you sobbing, and you stumbled out of the car and up to your front porch. You leaned against the railing and tried to compose yourself. But this was where you and Bradley had been making out less than two weeks ago after you had one of the best orgasms of your life. So you paced the length of your porch instead, wiping your tears and making sure your breathing was even. Because even though it was late enough now that Everett was surely in bed, you were going to have to contend with Molly.

"Hi," your sister said as you walked inside. She was snuggled up on the couch reading a book, but when she got a good look at you, she jumped up. "What happened? I thought maybe you'd be staying out later? Or all night since Bradley is back."

You pressed your lips together to try to prevent them from shaking, but Molly knew you too well. She was across the room collecting you in her arms immediately. When you started crying again, she didn't stop you, rather she just let you get it out of your system.

Finally, you were able to whisper, "Bradley told all of his friends that he'd never date me, because I have baggage."

Your sister's loud gasp was vindication to your soul, but you didn't like the price it came with. "That fucking prick. Does Bob know about this?"

"Probably," you said softly against her shoulder. "He must."

"I'll call him right now," Molly said, but you grabbed her tighter. 

"No, please don't. You had an immaculate first solo date with him last night which ended in a hot makeout session. I don't want the three ring circus that is my life to start messing up yours."

Molly kissed your cheek and promised, "Your life is not a three ring circus. And Everett is not baggage. And Bradley isn't worth your time if that's what he thinks. Now let me help you get changed for bed."

Molly helped you out of your black skirt, something you had hoped Bradley would be doing just a few short hours ago. And then you washed your face and brushed your teeth while shaking your head at your puffy eyes in the bathroom mirror.

You ended up climbing into bed in your bathrobe while Molly plugged your phone in. "You have thirty missed calls and seventeen text messages from Bradley."

"Ignore him," you whispered, pulling your covers up to your chin. "What am I supposed to do about Ev, Molly? He's so attached. Oh my god, I can't believe I did this. I knew better!"

"Shh," she replied, climbing into bed next to you. "I'll sleep over and take him to the game in the morning. And I'll deal with everything."

Eventually your exhaustion took over, and you fell asleep next to your sister, holding her hand in yours. Your last waking thought was a feeling of thankfulness that you had only mostly fallen in love with Bradley. 

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

Wow, Jake. I mean, he's not wrong, but still. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 13

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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@katiebby04

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #bradley rooster x reader

[ssahotchnerr]

hi darling! i don't know if you're still taking requests (from when you say you were having writer's block), but i was thinking about a BAU!reader that has a massive crush on Hotch and her love language is "acts of service" so she is always helping him, bringing him lunch, preparing him coffee or things like that, is2g i just want to spoil the sh*t out of that man :( he just works so much, someone help him :(((

special delivery

cw; mentions of food, fluff hehe <3

"special delivery!" you announced as you crossed the threshold of aaron's office, a light spring in your step. your current giddiness came easily, despite the early hour of the morning. before arriving at the bau you made a stop at your favorite cafe, grabbing two coffees and bagels to go.

at the sudden movement, aaron's eyes lifted. as he saw it was you, his mouth quirked into a smile. "oh?"

"this," you placed his coffee, as well as the bagged bagel, on his desk, a grin on your own face. "is for you."

aaron's heart immediately warmed at your gesture, as it usually did. it wasn't uncommon for you to bring him a little something out of the ordinary. coffee was common, sometimes it was lunch, or one time you brought him a pack of his favorite ink pens- he had mentioned he was running out, and within twenty-four hours, he found a brand new set for him waiting on his desk.

"you don't always have to get me something, you know." he reminded you, twiddling the pen in his hand slightly.

"i know." your smile brightened. "i wanted to. and besides, whatever they have out there," you referenced the bullpen's kitchen. "i wouldn't even consider coffee. you, of all people, deserve better than that."

"you're always looking out for me, aren't you?" aaron asked amusingly, allowing himself to smile fully this time.

"again, you deserved to be looked after." your words escaped you before you could stop them, heat immediately rushing to your cheeks at your admission.

aaron's cheeks flushed slightly as well, but before you turned to leave, he spoke up. "is that one yours?" his eyebrows raised in question, using his pen to gesture at the remaining cup in your hand.

"if emily doesn't try to persuade me to give it to her, then yes."

aaron deliberately closed his file, grabbing onto his cup instead. as expected, it contained his usual, and favorite, order. "then in attempt to avoid that, why don't you eat in here with me? i mean, if you want to, of course."

that was about the easiest decision you could ever make, but you raised an eyebrow, mirroring his expression. "you sure?"

again, he couldn't help but display a small smile. his brown eyes bright. it wasn't an expression you witnessed from him very often, but recently, you could've sworn you've been seeing it more frequently. "positive. please, stay."

"do you want help on your files as well?" your gaze found the daunting stack of folders on aaron's desk once you had sat, making the pile on your desk seem absolutely miniscule.

aaron shook his head, taking a sip of coffee. "how about we just, be, instead? i'd rather enjoy my breakfast talking to you."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds imagine

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

SELF LOVE 101 (Gojo x Black!Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Black!Self-Insert!Reader (Coworkers to Lovers)

Synopsis: When you get invited to your coworker's Valentine's Day party, you have no intention of going. Especially since this particular coworker isn't exactly your cup of tea: Gojo Satoru is just too proud, too cocky, and too damn full of himself for a girl like you. But when you're persuaded to go and find yourself alone with him, Gojo will stop at nothing until you see that loving yourself is nothing to hate on. After all, a beautiful woman like you deserves to be loved on...especially on camera.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Coworkers to Lovers; Mild Enemies to Lovers; Secret Crush; Reader is a Self-Insert; Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized; Foreplay; Mutual Oral; Spitting; Cunnilingus + Fingering; Deepthroating; Facefucking; Lipstick Marking; Heels On During Sex; Body Worship; Spanking; Begging; Dom!Gojo; sub!Reader; Breeding Position; Missionary; Dirty Talk; Eye Contact; Mutual Orgasm; Creampie; Reader Cums 2x; Sex on Camera/Nude Photos

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: A very special thank you to @curiouscutie143 for requesting my writing again for a V-Day special! I love writing about that sexy blue-eyed MFer & I hope you enjoy reading about him. -Jazz

**********

Commission Fan Art by greentforever on Fiverrrr

“So, V, you goin’ to Gojo’s Valentine’s Day party tonight?” 

You sit at your computer desk between the gray walls of your cubicle lined with photos of you with family, friends, and co-workers. One of them, your good friend Shoko, leans against the doorway to your cubicle in her black blazer, slacks that do nothing to hide her shapely ass, and blouse as red as her bold lip color. You, too, are dressed for the day of romance and love in your pink sweater paired with a black pencil skirt, nylon stockings, and pumps. 

She gives you an expectant smile as if she already knows your answer as she stirs sugar into her mug of coffee. You have your own coffee–iced despite the cold–that you sip as you sit at your desk, answering emails for the morning before the team meeting at 10 AM. This leaves you two hours to bullshit and gossip with Shoko which is one of your favorite points of the workday. “No,” you calmly reply. “You know I don’t do parties, Sho.” 

“But it’ll be with our coworkers,” Shoko protests. “You know these people! Gojo is inviting everyone from all of the departments, including our boss.” You inwardly roll your eyes behind your cat-eye glasses. Of course, Gojo would invite the bossman too. You always thought of him as a “boss’ pet” as well as a “people whore”, meaning he always makes it his mission to socialize and make everybody like him. Or maybe that’s just your strong distaste for his personality talking. 

“Sorry, girl,” you sigh, giving Shoko an apologetic smile. “It’s a no for me.” Shoko gives you a look between a glare and a pout. “Why? You’ve got plans? I wouldn’t doubt that your fine ass has a hot date.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you and snorts as you roll your eyes at her ridiculousness. 

Though you know that you’re a very attractive woman with your smooth, brown skin, plump frame, and an ass and rack that can stop traffic, you don’t do the dating thing. At least not right now. It’s too complicated. Too messy. Too distracting. You’re way too focused on your job, which you enjoy and are very good at, to be fooling around on dating sites and chasing after coworkers for some short-lived office romance. 

“Actually, yes, I do have plans,” you reply to your friend. “I have a date with my cat, TV, and Chinese takeout, thank you very much.” You then take a manila folder from the corner of your seat, stand from your chair, and give Shoko a tight-lipped smile. “Now, if you wanna continue pestering me with this, you’re gonna have to follow me to the scanner room.” 

And she does. She follows you, hot on your heels, as you walk through the office of cubicles holding your coworkers making calls, doing work, and sipping their morning coffee. She follows you into the scanner room with its dozens of scanning/printing/copying machines and boxes of extra office supplies. “Come on, V!” she groans. “I’ll be there too and we can have some fun! It would be the perfect time to work on your introvert tendencies.” 

You side-eye her as you begin to fire up the machine and put sheets into the scanner, one at a time. “A party isn’t gonna help with that,” you argue. “And it’s not like I don’t go out! I just don’t try to socialize with people I don’t know like you and…” Your words seem to die in your throat when you catch a glimpse of him through the scanning room’s doorway. 

You’ll never get over how tall Gojo is, standing a whole head taller than you with a lean, toned build that you can see even through his blue button-down shirt and slacks. His office attire is casual yet expensive-looking judging by his red bottom dress shoes. He keeps his locks of snow-white hair unstyled and slightly unruly as if he just rolled out of bed. It gives him a sexy look that you know drives so many of the girls in here crazy. Not to mention his voice––smooth, oh-so-sweet, and annoying like a song you’ve heard over and over again and can’t get out of your head. 

And then there are his eyes. They are an intense, electric blue that seems to shock you whenever you see them. Even now, when he turns his head slightly from chatting up a coworker, his eyes meet yours and you forget how to function. A small, crooked smile appears on his lips and he nods at you. You nod back in greeting––one of the only three ways you acknowledge each other. The other two are “good morning”s and unreadable glances across the office at one another. 

Shoko notices and bumps you with her hip. “And you can finally stop acting like you don’t like this man and get you some dick,” she sniggers. “You know he’d give it to you if you asked, V. The guy has pining after you for months now.” You give her a glare which she just laughs at. She swears that you have a “thing” for Gojo, but you will argue that down into the dirt until your very last breath. 

Shoko doesn’t understand that you and Gojo would not work. You and him are total opposites. He is extroverted and makes it his mission to go to every party, club, and kickback on the weekends while you’re more introverted and . rather stay home. While you know you’re attractive, you don’t constantly throw it in people’s faces like he does. He’s cocky and pompous and waaaay too into himself. 

You don’t dislike Gojo as a person, but you dislike his personality. And the persona he seems to put on for everyone else as if they are his audience. You’ve had the misfortune of seeing him drunk at your company’s Christmas party and left after an hour because of his constant jokes, loud singing, and how much he badgered you to take a shot. Despite this dislike, you don’t hate the guy. You both stay mannerable when your paths cross for any reason and sneak glances at one another but never speak beyond a “good morning” or about work. He works in a whole other department so you don’t see him often, but on the elevators or at company meetings, it’s a different story. 

Shoko can see you battling internally with yourself, so she stands in front of the doorway to block your view of Gojo, leaning her hip against the frame. “Listen, I know you have this whole love-hate thing with this dude,” she sighs, “but I promise you, he isn’t that bad. An attention slut, sure, but he means well. But I’m not here to talk about him–I’m here for you. I’ll be damned if you’re going to spend V-Day alone with your cat and takeout, which is why you need to come out with me, drink, shake ass, and make fun of our coworkers! Just for an hour, V, pleeeeease?” 

She folds her hands into a prayer, interlacing her fingers. You want to say no, but maybe she’s right. Maybe you can use a change. “One hour,” you firmly say. “One. Hour. And then I’m leaving.” 

Shoko squeals and presses a kiss to your cheek, leaving a red lip mark. “You won’t regret this, I promise,” she says though you groan indifferently. However, you can’t help but feel like maybe you won’t regret it either. 

********** 

You’ve never seen a house so big until your Uber pulls up to the estate Gojo rented out for the party. 

“Wow,” you whisper, staring up at the house in awe. After going down a trail lined with trees with bare branches to a forest that seemed to get deeper and darker, making you feel like you were entering a horror movie as you sat in the back of the car, the trees finally cleared and the mansion revealed itself. It’s more like a castle with its many floors, balconies, cobble-stoned walls, and glass windows. You spot a large pool on the right covered with a tarp, a tennis court, and a parking lot to the left filled with cars of all kinds. The lawn before it is clean, cut, and dewy, freshly cut and watered for the guests. 

The driver parks near the door and you pay him extra in cash despite also putting his tip on your credit card. “Keep it,” you tell him with a smile before thanking him and leaving the car. You press your wool trench closer to you as you walk up the path to the mansion in your heels that click against the cobblestones. The closer you get, the louder the party gets. Music and miscellaneous conversations drift to your ears, making you feel nervous. You want to turn around and run. 

‘No,’ you think, forcing yourself to keep walking. ‘You agreed to stay for an hour. AN HOUR, BITCH. You’ll be fine.’ So you swallow your fear, take a deep breath, and knock loudly on the door (ringing the doorbell for good measure). The door opens, revealing not Gojo but someone just as tall, built, and fine. He sports long, black locks of hair tied into a neat bun, gage earrings, and a tailored suit that he looks absolutely drool-worthy in. 

The stranger stares at you warmly but questionably with his chocolate eyes that you find yourself falling into. “Hello,” he greets you in a deep yet soft voice. “I’m guessing you’re here for the party?” Gulping, you find your voice and manage to answer the handsome stranger: “Y-Yeah, um, I’m V. Gojo’s coworker?” 

Recognition appears in the stranger’s eyes. “Oh, you’re V!” he chuckles. “Pleasure to finally meet you. Gojo has told me so much about you..and you’re just as pretty as he told me.” He gives you a wink that makes your stomach flip, but even more so that makes you react in such a way is the newfound information that Gojo has talked about you…and he thinks you’re pretty? 

You can’t mull over it for long though because the stranger moves aside to let you in. “Please, come in,” he says. “I’ll take your coat.” You thank him as you shed your coat, revealing your outfit of a red, curve-hugging dress that crosses over your chest, only giving viewers a peak of your cleavage. You curled your hair so it falls and bounces around your neck and paired your outfit with nylon stockings, pumps, a bold red lip and cat eye, and some small gold jewelry. You feel sexy and expensive. 

You take a moment to look around and admire the place. It’s something straight out of a movie with its polished marbled floors and walls, tablecloth tables covered in expensive snacks, fondue fountains, and champagne glasses, and a DJ playing slower songs as guests continue to show up. It’s truly a beautiful setup. 

“I’m Geto,” the stranger says once he’s finished hanging up your coat. “Suguru. I’m a friend of Gojo’s from high school and I own the place. Pretty, right?” You shake his hand when he offers it, noticing how large it is. “Nice to meet you,” you reply, “and it’s magnificent. I’m curious about what you do for work if you own a place like this!” 

He chuckles at the compliment and your curiosity. “I’m a business owner,” he explains. “I own one of the largest art companies in the country. We work primarily in setting up art exhibits, selling historical pieces, and keeping all art museums funded.” Ooooh…that means he got money. “I’ll have to tell Gojo that you’re here. He was so sure you weren’t coming.” 

You scowl confusedly at him, but before you can ask bout it, the man of the hour makes his grand appearance. “Getoooo!” his annoyingly familiar voice bellows. You turn, finding Gojo strutting over with a glass of champagne in a sleek, black button-up shirt, dress slacks, and red-bottom shoes. Darkened glasses sit on his eyes and his fingers and neck drip with gold jewelry. He looks expensive. And annoyingly good. 

He tosses an arm around Geto once near him, leaning into his friend.  “Where’d you get to, man? I’ve been looking for your ass for over 15 min…” He trails off when he gets a look at you and lowers his glasses down the bridge of his nose. You two stand there, silent, the music and noise swelling around you. “Huh,” he exhales, shocked. “And here I was wonderin’ who you were chattin’ up.” 

“Nice to see you too, Satoru,” you mutter. Sensing the tension, Geto clears his throat and takes Gojo’s glass from him. “I’ll just leave you two to talk,” he says before practically hurrying off. Then it’s just you two left alone. You don’t know whether to look at him or at the floor. “I can’t believe you actually came,” he huffs. “Shoko said you’d be coming, but I didn’t believe her. You never really come to any work-related events.” 

You flush under the lights, hugging your arms close to your body as a self-soothing mechanism. “That’s not true,” you protest. “I came to the Christmas party.” Gojo gives you a humored smile that irritates you for some reason. “But you left early,” he points out. 

“Well, maybe that’s because I don’t like seein’ my coworkers drunk,” you pointedly reply. “I’m just not a party person…but I did promise Shoko, so here I am.” You look off to the side to avoid Gojo’s gaze, but you can still feel him looking at you. Having no choice, you look back at him and find him giving you a soft, unreadable look. “Why are you lookin’ at me like that?” you ask, uncomfortable. 

“You just look…” He stops and bites his lower lip as if struggling internally with himself. It feels as if the room has gotten ten times hotter. “Really nice,” he decides, giving you a smile. “I’m shocked you’re not here with somebody.” 

“Well, I sorta am…” You begin to look for Shoko and find her in a green mini dress chatting up Nanami and Haibara from another department at your job. When she sees you, she gasps and immediately struts over you to you, a glass in one hand. “There she is!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around you. You sigh in relief, glad to have her here. “Is this guy bothering you? It’s okay, baby, I’m here now.” 

She turns to Gojo with a scowl, her arm wrapped around your plump waist. “So you can make your exit, Gojo,” she jokingly tells him. He puts his hands up in mock defense and backs away.

“Fine with me, just don’t make out in front of our boss. I’ll see you two around.” But as he says this, he looks dead at you as if making a promise. When he finally turns to walk away, you finally feel like you can breathe. “He’s got it bad,” Shoko chuckles. 

“Shut up,” you sigh. “I’m already uncomfortable here. I feel like everyone is staring at me.” Shoko titters, taking a champagne glass from a nearby tray and handing it to you. “Maybe it’s because you look fine as fuck,” she laughs. “Girl, just take a glass and relax! It’s a party! Those nerves will start to melt away the minute you get that champagne down the hatchet.” 

You do as she says and sip on your first glass of the night. And though you start to feel somewhat calm, you still feel disturbed. Mostly because of Gojo. Throughout the night, you become increasingly annoyed by his constant socializing and his noise. Why is he so loud? Loud when he talks. Loud when he laughs. Loud when he sings karaoke in front of his adoring, tipsy coworkers who cheer him on. 

Not to mention he constantly takes photos with everybody! Every person, including your boss, he takes a photo with, causing his phone to flash in your face every five minutes. Combined with the loud music and drunken laughter, you’re quickly becoming overstimulated (and not at all in a good way). 

Fed up with your snowy-haired party host and the noise, you down your second glass and text Shoko that you went to find the bathroom. But really, you just need to get away and be alone. Then you sneak away from the party and up the stairs until you are in the long hallway lined with paintings, oakwood vanities, and doors. Many doors. You push open the door that is cracked, leading to an empty study that is only lit by the big, round cheese moon outside the window behind the oakwood desk. 

The study is spacious and cozy with its polished bookcases of books on every subject, hanging paintings, and carpeted floor. The moon cuts through the glass window, creating a silvery square on the carpet and the wall near the desk where you see Geto’s name plastered on a college diploma. This must be his study. Hopefully, he won’t be upset that you’re in here, but the door was locked and you won’t be in here for long. 

You shut the door behind you and slowly walk into the study before stopping at the desk leaning against it. You feel so good to just be alone for a while, the sound of the party muffled beneath the floorboards. The only loud sounds are of your breathing and the hooting of a lone owl outside the window. It is peaceful. Serene. But not for long. 

The door opens before you can duck to hide and a tall figure stands in the doorway. He steps in, revealing himself to be the exact man you were trying to escape. “Shit!” you gasp, placing a hand on your leaping heart. “Don’t you knock?” 

Gojo stands there as if he didn’t just nearly scare you half to death. “I did knock,” he says. “Said your name too. Must’ve not heard me.” The door shuts behind him as he walks further into the room, slowly as if you’re a spooked animal. You don’t move from the desk, even when he comes to lean on the edge of it with you. 

“I was lookin’ for you,” he explains. “Shoko said you went to the bathroom, but that was over fifteen minutes ago.” He takes off his glasses to reveal his eyes, worry embedded in the crystal blue irises. 

“Oh,” you sheepishly say. “Sorry, I just…needed some time to myself. It was too loud down there.” He quirks one eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on his pink lips. “Is that code for me bein’ too loud?” he chuckles. “C’mon, I know you were annoyed by me. I could see it all over your face. That’s why I came up here to check on you and tell you I’m sorry.” 

And he actually sounds genuinely sorry about it. It makes you feel incredibly guilty. “You don’t have to apologize,” you sigh. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I guess our personalities just clash…and I’m not too fond of a phone flashing in myself every five seconds when you take a selfie.” 

Gojo laughs at this, the sound pleasant to you. “Just taking advantage of how good I look,” he jokes, flashing you a pearly-white grin. You don’t respond, staring at your shoes. “You don’t agree?” he asks, taking your silence for disagreement. 

“I didn’t say that!” you protest, flushing. “I just don’t see the need in takin’ all of those photos of yourself just because you look good. I mean, who’s gonna see ‘em?” You shrug to yourself, not really liking this conversation. “I am!” he laughs. “It’s not always for others to see. Maybe I just wanna admire myself. Don’t you, V? Admire yourself, I mean?” 

Now you really don’t like this conversation. You don’t reply, your thoughts running a million miles a minute. You feel like you should leave…but at the same time, you like the quiet and you enjoy Gojo’s openness. You enjoy him when he isn’t someone else. “Lemme ask you somethin’,” he says, not waiting for a response. “Do you hate confident guys? Guys who know they’re good-looking?” 

You look at him then, your eyes sharp and pointed. “No; just the ones who are cocky and into themselves.” 

A twinkle appears in Gojo’s eyes that is illuminated by the moonlight pouting into the window. Unbeknownst to you, he loves your boldness. Your bite. It’s sexy. And more than anything, he loves to prove you wrong about him. “It’s not that I’m into myself. I just know I’m a strong, smart, sexy guy. And there’s nothing wrong with that! I have the kind of confidence that no one’s opinion of me can make me feel some type of way…I mean, other than yours.” 

You furrow your brows at this, confused. Gojo just laughs, shaking his head. “In case you ain’t pieced it together, I like you, V. I think you’re way too smart for your department and you’re not bad on the eyes either.” He tilts his head to the side, a puppy dog look in his eyes. “But for some sad reason, you just seriously dislike me.” 

“I don’t dislike you!” you protest, feeling even guiltier than initially. He must think you’re such a bitch! “I just don’t like how cocky and overly exaggerated you can be with your confidence. To me, it feels like you rub it in my face.” Gojo raises an eyebrow, shocked at this confession. “Why?” he asks curiously. “Don’t you think you’re just as good-looking?” 

You look away at your nails, hyper-fixated on how shiny and glossy they are. “Well, yeah, but…” You pause, pretty sure that you’re oversharing at this point. You do know that you’re beautiful, but taking photos isn’t your thing. You don’t even have an Instagram account! It just isn’t for you. But Gojo thinks this is a travesty. “But what? Do you not take selfies of yourself?” You don’t answer, too embarrassed to. Gojo honestly looks shocked. “How?!” he exclaims. “Do you not see how beautiful you are? Seriously, V, you’re a fucking knockout! Especially right now.” 

You feel his blue eyes roaming across your body, your curves, your dress, and suddenly, the room feels hotter. “Here, c’mere,” he suddenly says, pulling out his phone. He then scoots closer to you to which you move away. “What are you doing?” you ask, confused. 

“Takin’ photos with you,” he replies as he opens his camera. “What’s it look like? Just scoot in close and you can see how gorgeous you are.” He flips the camera lens around so they’re facing you and him, but you scoot out of the shot, hesitant. “C’mon, just a few pics!” he pleads. “Pleeeease? I’ll put the camera on auto flash so it’ll go off every 20 seconds.” 

He gives you those puppy dog eyes again and you sigh, knowing that you’ll regret this. “Alright, fine,” you huff and scoot closer to him, trying not to inhale his cologne or feel some type of way with his shoulder and calve rubbing up against yours. “Say V-Day,” he says before the screen flashes in your face. He smiles but you don’t though, keeping your expression stoic. 

Gojo hums in satisfaction at the photo. “See? Look at that gorgeous face!” You look between the two contrasting faces and facial expressions. “Mine or yours?” you ask. He smirks at you and you realize your mistake. “Yours, of course,” he chuckles. “Why? You think I’m gorgeous?” You tsk and nudge him, earning a cackle. “C’mon, another one! Smile in this one.” 

Though you roll your eyes, you do as he says and smile, big and bright, into the camera. When the camera flashes, Gojo all but cracks a smirk in the photo. “Shit, I wasn’t ready for that one,” he sighs. “Now you’re definitely the gorgeous one in this one.” You flush, mostly because you feel that he’s right––you do look gorgeous in the photo. 

After another photo where you’re both smiling, you start settling in and realize how funny Gojo is. He cracks jokes and makes you laugh as the photo flash goes off, leading to pictures being taken of you and him cracking up. Soon, you’re making silly faces at the screen which makes you both laugh even harder. “Okay, okay, lemme do this one normal,” you giggle and smile at the camera, feeling warm and happy. 

Gojo can tell and that is why he tells you exactly what he thinks of you, unable to keep it in: “Goddamn, you truly are beautiful, V,” he sighs. “Can’t you see us together?” You turn to him, confused and alarmed by his words, but you don’t realize how close you are. As the camera goes off, your lips touch his in a soft, quick kiss that is as fast as the flash of the camera. 

You pull away as quickly as it happens, shocked and alarmed by how much you liked the kiss rather than by the fact that it happened. He’s a good kisser. Gojo stares at you in the same light like he can’t believe that that just happened and that it was with you. But he also looks at you in a way no one ever has: adoringly. Enchantingly. Like you’re the most beautiful thing in the room. Your eyes roam down his handsome face to his lips, soft and pink. 

Gojo places his phone down next to him before, silently, you both lean in again, your lips moving slowly yet passionately against each other’s. Scratch that “good”. Gojo Satoru is a great kisser. He moves his lips like it’s his profession, taking his time easing you into it. His hand caresses your face and holds your cheek, his touch making you shiver. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to become hotter and more passionate while your hands move along your bodies. At some point, his phone falls off of the edge of the desk and lands on the carpet, face-up. You can’t tell if the camera is still open and can’t care enough to check. Gojo’s lips move from your mouth to your neck, peppering your skin with hot, open-mouthed kisses. You grasp his shoulders and close your eyes, blissed out from the sensations. Despite him being your coworker, despite his personality, despite the party going on downstairs and you still being in another person’s room, you don’t care. 

You can’t care. Not when Gojo is giving you everything you’ve been craving. So when his hands inch to the zipper at the nape of your neck, you let him do as he pleases. He pauses, looking at you questionably, and you nod, wanting him to continue. He continues to kiss you down, giving you small lovebites as his fingers work the zipper down. “Gojo,” you exhale. It’s all you can utter as the dress comes off, only falling down from the waist up due to you still sitting. 

Gojo stares at you like you’re a work of art, eyes now dark with molten lust. “Fuck, look at you,” he whispers, drinking in your soft, brown skin. “Look at these.” His hands move to your breasts, big, soft, and juicy. You whimper softly at his touch, his thumbs moving over your hard nipples. “You’re absolutely beautiful, V,” he groans like it pains him. “How the fuck aren’t you with anyone?” 

You don’t answer, too horny to speak. All that is on your mind is him. “Well, it’s their loss. Now, I have you tonight…if that’s what you want.” His hands begin to leave your body, but you stop him, keeping them on your chest. “Yes,” you whisper. “Yes, I want this.” He smiles, a light sparkling in his eyes. He doesn’t begin playing with your titties just yet. First, he runs his piano fingers up and down your back as he kisses you again, soft moans traveling into each other’s mouths. 

Your hands find his body, touching and stroking his forearms; his chest; his sides; his waist. At some point, you brush up against his crotch where you feel his obvious hard-on pushing up against his pants. You gasp at the feeling and he lightly laughs into your ear. “Do you see? You see what you do to me?” 

He then stands in between your legs and latches his lips onto one of your hard, brown nipples. You gasp at the sensations of his wet tongue flicking the sensitive bud and swirling around the areola. “Fuck, Gojo,” you quietly moan, tossing your head back to the ceiling as you lean back onto one hand on the desk. He is so good with his tongue! Every flick against your nipple has you gushing, along with his fingers gently fondling the other breast he doesn’t have his mouth on. He switches, giving both of you girls equal attention. He is sloppy and greedy with it, just as you hope he is eating pussy. 

Gojo hums into your nipple, pulling away to look at you with a mischievous smile. “Rubbin’ that pussy against my leg, huh?” he chuckles. “You’re so needy, V, baby. Didn’t think that was possible for you.” Realizing that you’ve been embarrassingly rubbing your cunt up against his leg wedged between your thighs, you try to pull away, but Gojo firmly grips your outer thigh to stop you. “No; tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.” 

You know you shouldn’t. You know that having relations with your coworker at a party can only bring trouble, but the need that you have is desperate to be unbottled and overflow; not trapped again. “Taste me, Satoru,” you say in a soft plea. “I want your mouth on me.” The smile he gives you just about melts your pussy right off the bone. 

“You’ve got it, kitty,” he coos, using his thumb to gently play with your plump bottom lip, watching the way it bounces and jiggles slightly. “But on one condition: you be as loud as you wanna be. Don’t pull that quiet shit with me. The music is loud enough anyway…and even if it isn’t, fuck them.” 

Before you can argue or protest, he kneels between your legs so he is at eye level with your panties and pulls them to the side, exposing them to his naked eyes. He hisses at the way your arousal sticks to your panties as he does, your pussy lips so soaked that strands of your wetness stick to the fabric. “Shit, baby,” he groans. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” 

You bite your lip, embarrassment and arousal mixing within you. You hate how horny he makes you, but you can’t deny that you love it too. You’ve never had anyone make you feel this out of control before. But when Gojo finally proceeds to slurp up your pussy like his favorite meal, you just about lose yourself. “Fuck!” you moan, immediately grabbing his shoulder while the other grips the edge of the desk. 

Gojo is a master at eating pussy. He wiggles his tongue this way and that, stroking your lips and your clit. He just kisses the entrance of your pussy with his tongue, never quite venturing inside but you can still feel him stroking your inner walls. When he does that, his nose bumps against your clit, nudging it gently and sending sparks of pleasure throughout your entire body. It’s so hard to keep quiet or control your body because of the immense pleasure you feel.

“Oh, my God!” you gasp, earning a hum of pleasure from Gojo that he makes in your pussy. Your thick thighs clamp around his head, making him feel smothered just the way he wants to. 

God, he loves your thighs! He uses his hands to grip them; stroke the outside of them; even lightly spank them and the space where they meet your ass that he is more than eager to see in 3D. 

When he pulls away to spit onto your pussy and slurp it back up, you swear you nearly shout to the heavens, but you manage to bite your lip to keep it all in. Noticing, Gojo gives the meat of your outer thigh a light spank that makes you squeak. “I said let that voice out,” he mumbles into your pussy. “Come on, baby…ain’t this where you’re weak at?” 

He then begins to gently flick and rub your clit with his thumb, paying close attention to the way you respond. Judging by the way your moans echo throughout the empty study and your thighs quiver, he assumes he’s right on the money. “I guess it is,” he chuckles. “Let’s see what other pretty sounds I make you make with these fingers.” 

And he gets exactly what he’s looking for when he dips one of those long fingers into your tight, wet, delectable pussy and begins to stroke upward to rub your clit and G-spot at the same time. You’re unable to keep your voice hidden, each moan, whimper, and sob loud and unbridled. Thank God the music is loud enough to mask the sounds, but even if it isn’t, you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when Gojo’s tongue and fingers feel so good. 

It doesn’t take long for you to feel that knot in your core beginning to tighten with each stroke, lick, and slurp. When he pulls away to once again spit on your pussy and then slurp it back up while his finger continues to stroke your insides, you feel that tension about to boil over and grab his head to push into your pussy. He welcomes it, loving the feeling of being drowned in your wet cunt. You can’t even speak a coherent sentence. You begin to babble cusses and his name as you feel yourself about to cum: “Fuck, ‘Tarou! Shit, you’re gonna make me cum! You’re gonna…I’m gonna…oh, shit, shit shit!” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Gojo hums eagerly into your cunt, repeating this and becoming more eager the faster his ministrations get. The faster they get, the harder and faster you cum. You throw your head back and grip his white locks as you cream all over and into Gojo’s mouth. A loud moan from deep within you rises to the surface and exits your mouth, echoing throughout the room. You feel euphoric, tingles of pleasure coursing through you. 

Gojo doesn’t stop licking or finger-fucking you until he can feel your pussy twitch and weak moans leave your lips. He finally pulls away with a gasp, his chin and lips coated in you. He licks it all off eagerly and sucks on the finger he had inside of you, staring deep into your eyes as he does so. Your eyes trail down to his hardened cock which has now begun to pulse beneath his pants, desperate to be released…and you’re desperate to get it. “Need you,” you whisper breathlessly. “I wanna taste you too.” 

Gojo gives you a lustful, molten hot stare that nearly gets you out of the rest of your dress. “Not here. Follow me.” He takes your hand and helps you off of the desk before leading you out of the study and into the hallway. You walk all the way down the hall to an empty master guest room, spacious, clean, and comes with a balcony that overlooks the outside. The tree branches stretching their spiny fingers to the window cut across the floor in shadows, the moonlight shining through into the bedroom. 

You barely pay any attention to the room because you’re too busy kissing on Gojo. You wrap your arms tight around his neck as your lips move against one another’s, your tongues swirling and moans traveling into each other’s mouths. Gojo, skilled as he is, kicks the door shut with one foot and unzips the rest of your dress so it falls to the floor. His hands immediately go for your ass, groping, squeezing, and spanking your plump cheeks. He chuckles through your kiss at each soft moan and gasp you make, the sounds going straight to his groin. 

When he pulls away, his lips are plump from constantly kissing and his eyes are blown with lust. “My turn,” he says, smirking at you, and suddenly, he’s hoisting you up into his arms like you weigh absolutely nothing compared to him. He laughs at your cute little squeak as he carries you over to the humongous, neatly-made bed and tosses you onto the soft mattress where he hums seductively at the way you bounce against the bedsprings. Seeing you naked in just your heels is many things to him, one of which causes him to strip himself out of his clothes. Before he does, he leans his phone up against a charger on the nightstand so it faces you and the bed. You can’t tell if it’s on or not, too focused on him to even care. 

You watch him from the bed, turning over onto your tummy to lean against your elbows, your chin in your hands, and heels kicked up in the air. You’ve never seen someone take off his clothes so quick and in a flash, Gojo is completely naked. Your hungry eyes roam over his body, drinking in his muscles and lighter skin that contrasts with yours. They then go lower where they latch onto his big, thick, gorgeous, hard cock. You see veins and stark white pubic hairs that are trimmed short leading up to his toned stomach and V-line. You feel your body twitch with need, wanting him inside you in any possible way. 

Gojo takes a handful of his cock and begins to slowly stroke it in your face, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “You want this?” he asks. Slowly, you nod, unable to speak. “Then open your mouth and take it like a good girl.” 

You do so, inching to the edge of the bed so you’re able to reach him. You open your mouth and wrap your lips around him, emitting a needy groan from his luscious lips as you begin to suck and lick on his cock. “Thaaat’s it, baby,” he praises you, pushing stray hairs out of your face. “Lick it just like that. Like a lollipop…but just a little bigger.” 

Bigger, indeed! He stretches out your mouth and barely fits in your hands as you begin to stroke him, but you love his girth and length. You love how your dark, long nails look against his pale skin stroking him up and down. You love the sounds he makes, each moan and hum of pleasure encouraging you to give him major throat. So you bob your head and stare into his eyes as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks around his length. “Shit, baby!” he hisses, tossing his head back. “How are you this fucking good at suckin’ dick?” 

You just answer by continuing your work, loving how good you’re making him feel with your mouth and hands. After letting you do your thing for a while, Gojo slides out of your throat with a groan and gently slaps his cock against your lips dripping with spit, smearing it and your lipstick around your mouth. “So pretty,” he sighs dreamily, giving you a hooded gaze that makes you gush. “Look at how much you marked me, kitty.” 

He nods down at his cockhead ringed in your red lipstick which only makes you want to make more. “I wanna mark you too,” he says in a sultry, breathless voice. “I wanna fuck your throat, baby. Is that okay?” Is that okay? He may as well ask if it’s okay to fuck you! “Yes,” you reply, staring up at him through your lashes. “It’s okay…use my throat, ‘Tarou.” 

Your voice and nasty words make his dick twitch excitedly. He wraps his hand around himself and taps the head lightly against your tongue, making light, wet smacking sounds as he does so. “Just tap my hip or my thigh twice if you need to breathe, okay?” he coos to which you nod. And then he’s gripping your hair as he slides deep, deep, deep into your throat, nearly making you choke. A loud, needy moan leaves his lips as he settles into your tight, wet mouth and begins fucking it, bumping his pelvis and heavy balls against your face and chin as he does so. 

“Oh, my God,” he groans, fucking your throat like it’s a fleshlight. “Oh, my fucking God, baby, you’re so good at this shit! So, so good at suckin’ cock. Why the fuck didn’t we do this a long time ago?” You can only gargle and gag around his cock in response, earning a pleased chuckle. “Those are the sounds I like to hear,” he huffs. “You’re doin’ so well for me, baby, takin’ this big cock. You love gettin’ that throat fucked, don’t you? Maybe that’s all you needed to see things my way.” 

After some time of fucking your throat and leaning forward to plant some smacks on your ass to watch it jiggle, Gojo slides out of your mouth, giving you a chance to breathe. Spit and pre-cum drips from your mouth and chin, dribbling down to your tits and onto the bed. Gojo stares down at you, cheeks flushed, eyes narrow, and pumping his hard cock wet with your spit. “You still want this?” he asks. “We can leave it here if you want. No pressure, baby.” 

But you want all the pressure he can give you. So you position yourself onto your back and open your thighs for him, your heels planted on the edge of the bed. His intense, blue eyes immediately flick down to your gorgeous, edible pussy shimmering in the moonlight for him. “I want this,” you whisper into the dimly lit bedroom. But Gojo doesn’t move. He just stands there, still stroking his cock. “Do you not want this?” you ask uncertainly. 

“No, I wanna fuck you,” he answers easily. “I just want you to beg.” He grins at your gobsmacked expression. “That’s right, kitty: beg for me. Beg for this cock nice and pretty for me.” The heat of embarrassment crackles at your cheeks and skin, but it also makes your pussy quiver. “Please,” you whimper, swallowing your pride. “Please fuck me, Satoru. I need you. I’m so, so wet for you.” You begin to lightly play with your pussy in front of him, rubbing your clit and coating your lips in your wetness. 

It’s enough to make Gojo go absolutely insane. “Keep rubbin’ that pretty clit for me,” he demands before taking your ankles and yanking you to the edge of the bed. You gasp as he does so, but it turns into a moan as he slides himself home inside of you. Your body instantly tenses at his girth stretching out your walls, but he doesn’t move immediately. He watches you intently, waiting until you relax to start moving. And even then, he doesn’t fuck you hard and rough straight off the rip. He is gentle and slow, giving you strokes that are careful but still draw moans out of you. 

You can feel every inch of him inside of you, feeling unbelievably full. As you continue to rub your clit, the pleasure begins to build and your body becomes comfortable with Gojo’s cock, adapting and molding into a shape just for him. Gojo notices and grips your hips as he continues to roll his hips nice and tortorously slow into you. “This okay, baby?” he huffs. “You need it faster? Harder?” You nod, whimpering pathetically. 

Smack! His hand collides with the outside of your thigh, making it jiggle. “Nuh-uh, baby,” he growls. “Look at me. Say it to my face.” You open your eyes, just slits, and look at his handsome face slightly gleaming with sweat, as he bumps his hips even slower into you. He cackles at your groan of frustration, not giving up until you give him what he wants. “Please!” you whine. “Please, Gojo, baby, fuck me harder!” 

That’s when he holds you close by your hips, hoists your legs over his shoulders, and puts your ass straight into the mattress. Your eyes widen and your nails dig into shoulders as he fucks you rough, gripping the flesh of your thighs and fucking into you with a speed and precision that has you seeing stars. You’ve neve been fucked so good before. You pussy squelches and gushes all around his cock the more it pummels into you, drilling you just the way you need. 

It’s so good. Too good. Your eyes squeeze shut at the overwhelming pleasure, moans and whines leaving your lips to echo throughout the bedroom. You then feel Gojo’s hand gripping your chin, squishing your cheeks together. “Look at me, V,” he demands. “I said fucking look at me when I’m fucking you!” At his tone and volume, you weakly open your eyes and stare into his that remind you so much of the oceans in the Bahamas. 

“Keep lookin’ at me,” he orders but it sounds more like a plea. “Don’t look away. I wanna see those pretty eyes while I fill this pussy up.” You have to force yourself to keep staring, mostly because of the vulnerability. You’re here being splayed out and stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, your heels dangling in the air and pussy squleching around his cock! And here he is, wanting to see every single cute little expression on your face and in your eyes. It’s too much. It’s too intimate. 

But it’s so intoxicating. So addictive. And the feeling is mutual. Gojo commits your body and the way your tits jiggle as he fucks you into the bed to memory, wanting to give you good dick any time you want as long as it’s his. “This is all it took, huh?” he chuckles. “You just needed some dick to see how beautiful you are? How much you deserve a guy like me?” He holds your face in his hand, forcing you to keep looking at him. “Do you see how good we are together, V? Huh? Do you see it now?” 

You must be delicious from the dick because you do. You do see it and you’re desperate to make it known as he speeds up, plowing into that pussy again and again until the bedsprings creak. “Fuck, ‘Tarou, yes!” you sob. “I’m gonna fucking cum! I’m so close!” You can’t stop the way your pussy clenches and your clit swells as you continue to toy with it. 

But then Gojo stops, stilling his movements. “Me too,” he warns. “But not like this.” He suddenly hoists you up farther onto the bed and edges onto it with you on his knees. He grips your ass as lifts your legs up onto his shoulders, leaning forward so your knees are pressed against your chest. “Need to make it count,” he grunts. “Need to be closer to you…need to be deeper.” 

You’re confused at fist, not sure what he’s doing. 

That’s when he proceeds to fuck you into a breeding position, his hips slamming down against yours with his feet planted firmly on the bed. “Oh, my God!” you practically scream as his cock pummels in and out of you at a breakneck pace, causing every part of you to jiggle and move with the force of his fucking. Now you understand why so many women are crazy for him: he’s amazing in bed. He has such stamina being able to fuck you in such a position without hiring, feral moans and grunts leaving his lips as he fucks you stupid. 

Now you have no choice but to cum. You’re completely trapped beneath him with no place to go, your pussy quivering and twitching around his cock. “G-Gojo!” you stutter, gripping his shoulders for dea life. “‘M g-gonna cum! Gonna…you’re g-gonna m-make me…” You can’t even speak, your tongue heavy and mind blank with pleasure. But Gojo understands. “Cum for me, baby,” he begs, staring deep into your eyes. “Cum with me. Give it to me like a good girl!” 

And you do. As soon as he bursts inside of you with a loud moan of your name, your pussy clenches and you cum all around his cock, drenching him in your juices. Gojo grips you to him, making you feel restricted and trapped with just his arms and his body. You gasp as you feel him fill you up with his nut, warm, wet, and endless. He groans as his cum drips out of you and leaks down your thighs and his balls, soaking you both in the aftermath of your sex. Your sex. You just had sex with a coworker. 

As the fog of your orgasm fades, you feel nothing close to bliss and everything close to mortification. Gojo finally releases you and stands up straight, hissing as he does so. “Ah, shit!” he groans. “Think I overdid it.” He puts a hand to his lower back, winching. You just stare up at him, trying to make sense of him and everything that just happened. “Sorry,” he sheepishly says, smiling down at you. “Did that ruin the mood?” 

Your eyes roam over his naked, toned body to his semi-hard cock still soaked in your and his cum. You quickly look away to your clothes and bag, feeling the urge to throw up. “No, I…fuck!” The gravity of the situation hits you like a freight train. “I can’t believe I did this,” you murmur to yourself. “I can’t believe we did this.” 

Gojo chuckles, laying next to you on the edge of the bed. “Believe it, baby; the hair speaks for itself.” He runs a hand through his unruly, sexed-out locks of silvery-white hair. “You were so, so good,” he sighs happily. He goes to touch you, but you move away, immediately feeling guilty for doing so when you see his saddened eyes. But you can’t bring yourself to touch him or snuggle. Aftercare doesn’t matter right now when all you feel is guilt and confusion. “I-I’m sorry, Gojo,” you weakly say. “I have to go. I took things too far with you tonight.” 

It was the alcohol, you try to reason. And you were trying to distract yourself from the noise of the party. You were vulnerable. You try to think of every reason this happened instead of just blaming it on the fact that you’re very attracted to Gojo Satoru. He lays on the bed now, scowling in utter confusion at you. “Wait, huh?” he asks as you scramble to leave the bed. “Wait, V, don’t go! Let’s sit down and talk about it!” 

But you don’t want to talk about it and you can’t talk about it. If you do, you’re sure that you’ll start crying. You can already feel the tears building. But as you rush to the door, gravity has other plans for you and you knock right into the nightstand, causing Gojo’s phone to fall. “Shit!” you gasp, immediately bending down to pick it up. His phone sits faceup in your hand, the screen glowing at you. 

There, you see his camera roll. And in it, every new picture taken by Gojo tonight. You see photos of him and your team; him and the boss; and him and you. Not just the ones you took side by side in Geto’s study, but also…other ones. More intimate ones taken every 20 seconds of you both. Naked. Having sex. Heat runs through your veins and up to your face, creating a permanent blush. ‘No,’ you think. ‘No, no, no!’ 

You open all of them, each one becoming more embarrassing and lewd than the previous one. You see photos taken from the floor in the study where Gojo is on his knees eating you out; photos of you getting your face fucked at the edge of the bed, your heels kicked up and his hand gripping your hair; you on your back legs spread wide and face contorted in pleasure as Gojo fucks you into the couch; you and him together, locked into a breeding position, your eyes locked on each other’s as the moon glows against your skin. 

Gojo slides off of the bed to check on you, seeing you staring at his phone completely in awe. “What?” he asks, curious. “What is it?” Wordlessly, you pass the phone to him and he sees the photos. His blue eyes widen an inch as he scrolls through each one. “Oh,” he just says. “Well, at least you look hot in all of these. But I can delete ‘em if you want.” 

And you realize that he’s right: you do look hot in all of them. You drink in your smooth, brown skin glowing in the moonlight; your thick thighs spread and ass looking so delectable; your pussy stretched around Gojo’s cock as your pretty face contorts beautifully with pleasure, spit and red lipstick smeared around your open mouth. It’s still embarrassing, but also liberating. And a turn-on. You see yourself just as Gojo sees you in those photos: sexy, beautiful, and meant to be with him. 

“No,” you reply. “Send them to me.” He gazes at you, shocked. “You’re right: I do look pretty hot in those…we both do, actually.” You give him a shy smile to which he returns, a slight blush adorning his cheeks. “Well, I’m glad you see it my way, but I can’t send them to you. I don’t have your number.” He actually looks sad to give you the bad news. 

But you smirk, one step ahead of him. You put your hand out, palm up, for his phone. “Then I guess you’ll need my number then,” you purr. He stares at you for a few seconds, his mind slowly processing your words, and then hands you the phone. He continues to give you that laughable look as you put your name and a cute heart emoji beside your name into his contacts, along with your number. 

When you pass it back to him, your heartbeat has accelerated, your stomach fluttering with butterflies. “You can use that for a brunch date too,” you add, feeling somewhat shy. “Or the movies.” You silence yourself, letting Gojo piece your words together. 

He stares down at your number and then at you before breaking out into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on a person. He tosses his phone onto the bed before engulfing you in a tight embrace, picking you up off of the ground. You squeal as he tosses you both onto the bed, kissing you all over on your face; your neck; your shoulders. “Finally!” he laughs. “Finally, you’re mine!” You laugh with him, feeling giddy like a schoolgirl who just found out her crush likes her back. 

You lean up to kiss him, but stop when a knock interrupts you. “Yes, finally,” Shoko agrees. “I was waiting for the day you two finally stopped acting like you weren’t crazy about each other and just fucked.” You gape at the door, mortified that your friend is behind it. Did she hear you two? Did anyone else hear you two?  

“As happy as I am for you Satoru, can you at least clean up my bed when you’re done in there?” Geto asks. “And come down for the party toast in about fifteen minutes.” 

Gojo presses a finger to his lips, signaling you to keep quiet while he’s silently dying with laughter. “Sorry, Sugu!” he calls. “We promise we didn’t break nothing!” 

“Uh-huh,” Geto replies blandly. “You’re lucky you’re my friend because I would’ve tried to scoop her up myself. She’s a keeper, indeed.” You flush as you hear him and Shoko finally leave, no doubt going to give the others a good story about the noise…but you also find that you don’t care if anyone knows. You want them to know. 

Gojo gazes down at you as you lean against his chest, feeling so small and so safe against him. 

“Now let’s get back to that snuggle. We’ve got fifteen minutes to spare and I’m not wasting any of ‘em.” He then leans down to capture your lips with his and you remind yourself to treat Shoko to lunch for persuading you to come to this stupid party. 

THE END.

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk smut #request fill #black reader #my works #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #black writers #black coded reader #plus sized reader #satoru gojo x black!reader

[spookwyrdie]

Call Waiting...

sub!Changbin x dom!reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: You haven’t been quite honest with him about your visit. Nothing makes Changbin more relaxed than a little play date, and it’s been a few weeks since he’s had the time and energy to get on his knees for you. You've decided to take matters into your own hands, literally.

genre: SMUT, office AU, gentle femdom

warnings: adult dialogue, sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, gentle femdom, semi-public sex, office sex, on-the-phone, mouth kink, handjobs, edging, mild choking

18+ only, minors DNI

a/n: This is shameless smut, I can't stop thinking about sub! Changbin tbh.

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I've only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

Sharp heels click on the lovely marble floors as you saunter your way from the reception desk towards his office door. The space is a lovely mix of black and gold, the furniture sleek and the space tidy. You take your time, knowing that the sound of your heels will greet him before you get to his office door. You raise a perfectly manicured hand and rap your knuckles on his door. 

It swings open immediately, Changbin’s face beaming in surprise. “Y/n! To what do I owe the pleasure?”  

He swoops you into his space, closing the door quietly behind you. The smell of dark leather and a clean cologne greets you. The sleeves on his crisp white dress shirt are neatly rolled up, black suspenders in place, the top button of his collar undone. The definition of his wide shoulders is highlighted by his attire. His muscles bulge with every small movement he makes, your eyes are roaming all around his body before you realize he’s waiting for you to reply with a smirk on his face. 

You hold up the takeout bag in your hand, “I thought today would be a nice day for a lunch date. Don’t worry, I checked in with your assistant before I came over, I know you have a free hour or so to spend with me.” 

“I’m expecting a call in a little bit, but I can always make time for you,” he says as he drapes an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek lightly.  

You set the bag down on his desk and start taking out the little plastic trays arranged so artfully. “I made a special order to our favorite sushi place just for you. You deserve it.” 

He moves the scattered papers on his desk, placing them into a black folder. He was apparently hard at work before you came to surprise him with lunch. He moves to his chair and settles into it with a weary sigh. “I’m glad you’re here, my love. It’s been a tough one today with this client and you’re a wonderful distraction.” 

You hand him some chopsticks and put together his meal for him. “I could tell something has been off for a few days, sweets. You need something to help you relax, which is why I'm here.” You toss him a wink, for good measure. You eat together, comfortable chat about nothing in particular passes between you two, giving Changbin a small reprieve from the mental strain he’s been dealing with. 

You haven’t been quite honest with him about your visit. You love bringing him lunch on a particularly stressful day, but you have your own ulterior motives. Nothing makes Changbin more relaxed than a little play date, and it’s been a few weeks since he’s had the time and energy to get on his knees for you. You haven’t had him writhing and whining beneath you in an age and you’re beginning to miss it. You never press the issue but seeing how worked up he’s been getting from constant tasks, you have decided to take matters into your own hands, literally. 

After you both finish up, he leans back and pats his belly with a contented sigh. “Thanks love, I really needed that.” 

You stand and walk around his desk slowly, swaying your hips for good measure, stopping within inches of him at his chair. “You still look tense; I’ll give you a little shoulder rub before I go.” You put your hand out for him to pull him out of his chair and sit in his place. You pat your lap, gesturing for him to get comfortable. Changbin looks at you for a moment, you can watch the gears turning slowly in his head, trying to anticipate how this will go. In the end, he gingerly sits on your thighs.  

You wrap your arms around his midsection and pull him flush with your body. Changbin sits a little taller than you from this angle which is perfect for peppering the back of his neck with small kisses. He giggles and cranes his neck away; you love how ticklish he is. Your hands on his shoulders begin to knead slowly, finding all the knots and tension in his broad back, massaging them out and turning him into putty in your hands.  

Soon his head is lolling to the side, entranced by your fingers and your care. It gives you the perfect opportunity to scrape your teeth lightly at the junction between his neck and shoulder, drawing a whimper out of him as he rocks his hips forward. You latch down and give a light suck to his skin, not enough to leave a mark but enough to have him collapse back against you with his hands gripping the armrests of his chair hard. You chuckle into his neck, “Feeling a little sensitive today?” 

He whines at you poking fun at him as one hand snakes around his waist and the other wraps around his neck. He is pliant in your hands, a delicate squeeze has him moaning “Darling…” You smile against his skin at the use of your title, the little detail telling you he’s slipping into the deep neediness he’s been denying himself these past few weeks. You’re “Darling” when he wants you to take control, turn him into a babbling mess, and lose himself in you.  

He’s grinding subtly in your lap at the pressure you’re applying to his throat, seeking any sort of relief. Your hand around his waist wanders around his body, brushing up against one of his nipples and you feel his stomach muscles contract. He shudders a deep breath out as you slowly rub the sensitive bud, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink hue. The hand on his neck remains, barely applying any pressure, just a feeling of reassurance collaring him. Changbin grasps at your arm with his hands, an anchor for him, something to hold onto while his hips jolt upwards.  

Your hand abandons his nipple to slide down his torso, feeling his abdominal muscles jump at the contact. It travels further down to rest in between his thick thighs, muscles straining the material of his well-tailored pants. He’s already desperately hard, practically throbbing through all the layers of fabric as you drag a nail up his constrained cock. He picks his head up to from your shoulder to watch your hand dance around his length, mesmerized by your movements. Just when it seems like you’re about to grasp him fully, you move to tease him a little more by dragging your nails up his inner thigh. His cock twitches in his pants and he shudders against you with a whine frustration. 

“Shhhh…” you whisper in his ear as you squeeze a little tighter to the sides of his neck. “If you want to cum, you have to be good for your Darling, okay?” He presses his lips together and nods, a small mmmph noise huffing out of him. “Good.” 

When your hands leave his neck and his cock, he gasps at the loss - only to let out a strangled squeak when you grab his suspenders, pull them up, and snap them back down against his chest. The metal adjusters on the straps sting his pecs, so you smooth your hands under the straps and push them down his shoulders, making sure to pay careful attention to the sore skin underneath the metal. You press a kiss just beneath his ear and he melts back into you with a hiss.  

The crisp shirt tucked into his pants gets wrinkled when you pull it free from his waistband. Your fingers nimbly unbutton his pants, sliding the zipper down at an excruciatingly slow pace, making sure he feels the vibrations of every tug against his cock. Your hand slips down and you palm him over his tight boxer briefs, his hips shaking as he grinds into your hand. A small wet spot has already appeared on the fabric concealing his cock from your bare skin, his whimpers come out low and staccato as he lifts his head again to watch your hands again.  

You chuckle at his desperation, “I hardly need to do anything, I bet you could cum from just thrusting up against my hand like this.” 

“N-no-” he begs. “I can be good!” 

“Oh? Can you?” His hips are still gyrating into your hand. 

“Yes, Darling,” he stutters out, his hips halting beneath your touch, his thighs beginning to tremble from the effort to keep still.  

“Good job, sweets. You’re being so good today,” you murmur into his ear. Your palm leaves him, and you hear a protest start to rise in his throat, his breath hitching when your fingers dance along the elastic of his waistband. Gently, you trail them underneath the elastic, to the sensitive skin of his pelvis. His hips begin to shake again as he holds his breath, hungry for your approval more than he wants to chase his orgasm. Your pinky finger lifts the elastic away from his body slowly, pulling up inch by inch until - snap! You let it bounce back onto his hips again as he hisses at the slight sting. 

You push the elastic down his hips enough to let his cock spring free from its confines, slapping against his lower belly. It’s already red and weeping and you drag one finger through the wetness beading up from the tip of his cock. Bringing it to his lips, you press gently into his mouth. He sucks at your finger, groaning at the taste and you watch more pre-cum leak out of his pulsing head. 

"Feet up against the desk,” you say, tapping his thigh. He obliges, lifting his feet and bracing them against the edge of his desk. In this vulnerable position, his body is curled in, relying on you for most of his support. “If anyone walks in right now, they’ll see how much of a good little slut you are for me.” Your whisper in his ear has him shivering against you. “Say it, ‘I’m a good little slut.’” 

“I- I’m a good little slut,” he pants out. 

“Good boy.” You raise a cupped hand to his mouth. “Spit.” 

He drips saliva into your hand, coating your fingers.  

 You grip his cock in your hand lightly, spreading his saliva onto his cock, still teasing him with the barest contact. He mewls at your touch, throwing his head back against your shoulder. You clamp a hand over his mouth as you begin to stroke him, long and languid movements, letting him feel every inch of movement. He throbs in your hand as he moans through your fingers. “If you’re not quiet, I’ll have to shove something in your mouth.” 

He can’t help it, he’s already so fucked out, so deep inside his need for pleasure he can barely hear you. He whimpers as your hand leaves his mouth to reach down for the hem of his shirt. You lift it up, exposing his belly, a soft layer of flesh covering the thick muscles of his abdominals. Bringing the hem of his shirt to his mouth, you press it against his lips until he’s biting it between his teeth. “Good,” you murmur into his ear, as you take his earlobe between your teeth. His moan is muffled a bit by his shirt, and now your other hand is free to roam his torso again. 

With the fabric of his shirt lifted to his mouth, your fingers easily find his exposed nipple, grazing it softly. His abs lurch at the touch, “Oh fuck,” he muffles through his shirt. He leans back again, pressing into you, as he cautiously thrusts up into your hand with every stroke. There’s a fine sheen of sweat coating his forehead now, the effort it takes not to drive into your hand, to chase his high, shakes through his whole body. 

Just then, the shrill ring of the phone makes him gasp. Still at the mercy of your hands, he’s conflicted – ignore it and let you continue or do his job and pick up the phone. He’s already trembling, caught in the middle of his chaotic thoughts when you make the decision for him. Leaning forward, you take your hand off his nipple and reach for the phone. You pick it up gingerly, pulling the corded phone towards you as you lean back again, your other hand never leaving his cock. He turns to look at you, wide eyes and panic flooding his features. You place the receiver against your ear. 

“This is the office of Mr. Seo. Please wait a moment while I connect you,” you grin at him with mischief in your eyes. You hand him the phone.  

“H-hello, is this Mr. Lee?” His voice is remarkably steady for someone who was just panting through the cotton of his shirt a moment ago. A deeper blush erupts on his face at this twist.  

“Yes....I’ve got a draft of the contract drawn up for what we’ve discussed,” he continues. You marvel for a moment at his professionalism and the sadistic side of you wants to push him. Your hand begins to stroke him again slowly, squeezing around the base of his cock with every down thrust.  

“Yes....As per our agreement, the ffff-” his eyes slam shut, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration. “The forms should be f-faxed over later this afternoon...” He begins thrusting into your hand again, matching your unhurried pace. 

“What?...Oh, yes.... I’m fine. Could we schedule a follow-up later? I apologize, but I have... an urgent m-matter to.... attend to,” his breaths becoming fast and hitched again. “I appreciate your f-flexibility, Mr. Lee.” He yelps as you nip at his neck again. Turning towards you, his eyes lock onto yours with a mix of frenzied desire and frustration at this turn of events. “T-thank you. Good-bye." 

He lets the receiver drop to the floor once he hears the click and dial tone on the other end. Changbin turns to you, ready to scold you for that kind of move during a call, but you swoop in for a kiss and he melts. He whimpers into your mouth as your tongue caresses his and you start fisting his cock once again. You break the kiss and murmur against his lips, “You did such a good job, sweets. I think you deserve a reward for being such a professional.” 

That aching hunger is painted on his face again as he nods, “P-please, Darling.” 

You squeeze the base of his cock again, pre-cum trickling down his shaft, adding to the dripping wetness of his cock. A lewd slick noise fills the room as you pick up the pace. He starts to whimper again, eyes clamping shut and thrusting into your hand. You shove your hand into his mouth, gripping onto his lower jaw, to keep him from making too much noise. He moans again as he sucks hard on your fingers, the pitch of his whimpers getting higher. “I’m gonna c-” 

You stop and grip the base of his cock again, hard. He spasms, a wanton whine like gravel in his throat, protesting the loss of friction. He whines around your fingers again, this time in a pleading tone, his eyes wet and sparkly with unshed tears. He lurches forward in your grasp as you coo into his ear, not letting him reach his high just yet. “I said you deserved a reward; I didn’t say it was going to happen right away.”  

Changbin’s practically pulsating in your hand; you could feel his heartbeat twitching in the veins of his cock. You wait for his body to still, fighting to get control, to be good, because he knows nothing feels as good as your praise. As he relaxes into your arms again, you begin pumping his cock again, toying with it. You pop your fingers out of his mouth and grip his neck again. You apply a light hold to his neck, not constricting his airway, so his panting breaths still come freely. His hips start rocking again on their own accord, you know he’s in another headspace all together now, fully surrendered to you. 

His hips start stuttering again, grunting against your hand around his throat, pushing himself into your grasp. Your thumb and middle fingers squeeze a soothing pressure into the sides of his neck. He’s trying to string some words together and failing, fully babbling at your hands. “P-plea-please,” he tries to say. 

“Hmm? What was that, sweets?” 

“Please....m-may I cum?”  

“Please may I cum, who?” 

“PLEASE may I cum, D-” he’s losing his words again, thrusting full speed into your hand, gripping onto your arm, balls tightening as he tries to hold himself back. “DARLING.” 

“Of course, sweetheart. You just needed to ask politely.” You release your hold on his throat and bite down on the sensitive part between his neck and shoulder with that. 

Changbin cries out, cock twitching in your hand as his hips stutter, losing their rhythm. With a few more pumps, he’s gushing, spurting all over his stomach, his chest, even his desk. His hands come to grip the chair behind your head as his hips rock through his orgasm. You clamp a hand over his mouth again to keep his volume down, but he’s gone, groaning into your hand as his whole body shudders. You milk Changbin through his orgasm until his whines take on a painful edge and he starts pushing your hand away, kicking his legs up to get away from the stimulation. 

He collapses back onto you, totally spent. Your hands are the only thing keeping him in place or else he’d probably fall to the floor. You press small kisses to his face and neck as you bring him back down to earth. Your hands trail around his body, reviving him slowly with comfort. Your fingers card through his hair and he sighs into your touch. 

After a few moments, he chuckles. “I’m going to have to teach you proper phone etiquette.” 

You scoff in a mock horror, “Are you saying there’s something wrong with the way I answered?” 

“Yes,” he giggles, eyes crinkling up. “You answered.” 

“I was just helping you with work, my love.” You press a chaste kiss on his temple. He sits up to turn around. His body still shakes a little as he takes your face in his hands for a long kiss. As he pours emotion and gratitude into the kiss, you boil over with pride, a warm feeling erupting in your chest. He leans back, just a breath away from you, tenderness in his eyes and rubs little circles on your cheeks with his thumbs. 

“Well, Darling,” he says, putting a cheeky emphasis on your title. “You can help me with work in other ways.” 

His face grows serious and tender for a moment. “Thank you for this today, really. Only you can make me feel this relaxed when I’ve been having such a hard time.” 

You peck him on the lips again, smiling into your kiss. “I do it because I love you.” 

“Oh, only for that reason?” he says as he stands, pulling up his pants and readjusting his shirt and suspenders. He offers you a hand and pulls you up from the chair into his arms.  

He kisses your nose, and you blush. “I’ll see you at home,” he says. “And if you think I won’t be returning the favor because of work, you’ve got another thing coming.” 

#skz smut #stray kids smut #changbin x reader #changbin x y/n #seo changbin #changbin #stray kids #smut #changbin smut

[tinytinyblogs]

Yunho As Your Boyfriend

Boyfriend

(n.) A person who 90% of the time annoy you, and 10% of the time makes you forget the 90%

Ateez masterlist here

Be prepared for Yunho to attack you with a hug, as this is his favorite way to show his love. You are smaller than him, so you will probably lose your balance and end up on the ground. But don't worry, he will catch you, and you will both have a good laugh about it. Yunho is a very affectionate person, and he loves to show his love through physical touch. He is also very strong, so when he hugs you, you will feel like you are being enveloped in a warm, safe hug. If you are not used to being hugged by someone so much bigger than you, it might take you a few times to get used to it. But once you do, you will find that Yunho's hugs are one of the most comforting things in the world.

Yunho loves to wake up early in the morning just to see your sleeping face. He finds it so peaceful and serene, and he loves the way the light from the window falls on your face. While he's admiring your sleeping face, he'll start planning what he wants to do with you that day. He'll think about all the things you love to do, and he'll try to come up with a plan that will make you happy.

Yunho loves to open his phone gallery just to see your photos. He will smile like an idiot, especially when he misses you so much. He has a whole folder dedicated to your photos, and he will often spend hours just looking at them. He loves to see your smile, your laugh, and the way you look at him. When he misses you, he will look at your photos and remember all the good times you've had together. He will think about the way you make him feel, and he will feel a little bit closer to you. Yunho's phone gallery is a treasure trove of memories, and he cherishes every photo of you. He knows that one day, when you're both old and gray, he will look at these photos and smile. He will remember the love you shared, and he will be grateful for all the time you had together.

Yunho loves to randomly hold your hand and drag you anywhere with him. He will buy you anything you want, and he will make you feel like the most special person in the world. He is a very spontaneous person, and he loves to see the excitement on your face when he takes you somewhere new. He will take you to your favorite restaurants, but he will also take you to places you've never been before. He will buy you anything you want, even if it's something you didn't know you wanted. He knows that you deserve the best, and he will do whatever it takes to make you happy. Yunho is a very loving and caring person, and he knows that one of the best ways to show his love is to make you feel special. When he randomly holds your hand and drags you anywhere with him, he is showing you that you are the most important person in his life.

Yunho is fiercely protective of you, and he doesn't like it when you distract your attention to another person, even if it's a child. He once told you, "I think we need to go. They want to take you away from me." You tried to reason with him, saying, "Yunho, this place is full of kids." But he didn't care. He just doesn't like it when you distract your attention to another person. Yunho's protectiveness can be a bit overwhelming at times, but you know that it comes from a place of love. He just wants to keep you safe, and he will do whatever it takes to make sure that you are happy.

Yunho loves to offer you a piggyback ride, especially when you two can't sleep and decide to take a walk at 2 AM in the morning. He will tell you jokes while you cling to his back like a koala. He knows that you sometimes have trouble sleeping. He also knows that you love to laugh, so he will tell you jokes to make you smile. He will tell you all sorts of jokes, from silly puns to funny stories. He will even make up his own jokes if he has to. He just wants to make you laugh, and he knows that a piggyback ride and some jokes are the perfect way to do it. You love the way Yunho makes you laugh, and you love the feeling of being close to him. When you are on his back, you feel safe and protected. You also feel loved and appreciated. Taking a walk with Yunho at 2 AM in the morning is one of your favorite things to do. It is a time for you to relax and connect with each other. It is also a time for you to laugh and have fun.

Yunho will always make sure that you know how much he loves you. He will tell you every day, and he will show you in every way he can. He will tell you how beautiful you are, how funny you are, and how much he loves your smile. He will also do things for you to show you how much he cares, like cooking you dinner or giving you a massage. Yunho is a very expressive person, and he loves to tell people how he feels. He knows that you need to hear it, and he wants you to know that he loves you more than anything in the world. He will often say things like, "You know that I love you so much, right?" or "I can't imagine my life without you." Yunho's love for you is constant and unwavering. He will always be there for you, no matter what. He will always make sure that you know how much he loves you, and he will always be there to catch you when you fall.

I'm writing this to myself, as a reminder to keep writing and posting frequently. I know that if I don't, my inspiration will start to fade and my brain won't work as well. Writing and posting helps me to stay mentally sharp, and it also helps me to connect with others and share my thoughts and ideas.

#kpop #kpop au #ateez updates #ateez fanfiction #ateez yeosang #ateez scenarios #ateez seonghwa #ateez wooyoung #ateez hongjoong #ateez yunho #ateez jongho #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez au #ateez boyfriend #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez masterlist #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez headcanons #ateez fic #ateez #atiny #atz au #atz yeosang #atz scenarios #atz x reader #jeong yunho

[honey-tea-and-lemon-trees]

it’s just a tv show… but it isn’t.

it was something to look forward to during four of the most challenging years of my life.

it was stories on a screen of friendships, and families you find, and the goodness of the right people and the badness of others, and how to cope with it all.

it was also lust curses and body swaps and witty one liners that made us howl with laughter to make up for all the tears.

it’s the stories that we made on our own. on spec and meta posts, in dms and group chats, layers of lyrics and gifsets and graphics, in our ask boxes and on ao3. sometimes just in the privacy of our own heads and wip folders. what wonderful distractions, what beautiful art we’ve made together!

it’s the friends we’ve made along the way!! my own little drew crew, the people who comment on every fic or like my live-watch flailings. it wouldn’t have been half as special without you.

i wish it had had more time. it deserved more time.

but thank you, nancy drew. what gifts you gave me.

i’ll miss you.

#we’re really all fuckin going through it rn huh #nancy drew #trying not to SOB #i’m not fucking ready #beth.etc

[simmerianne93]

[Simmerianne93]Trio_poses_01

Hello everyone!!! 

Today it's a special posepack post, 'cause I have reach +600 followers on twitter where I have being since 2 years ago!! Time flies!! 

I have not founds to make a give-away as people usually do, so I decided to make a little pose present for all my followers until now. After all, I think most of the followers I have anywhere are there 'cause my poses. I really appreciate your support and hope to have more simming days with you all.

I wanna say that maybe I'll make more of this kind when I reach +1000 on twitter or, I dunno, 50 patreons, 500 followers on tumblr or maybe 300 on instagram. I'm not good making presents with a goal, but you all deserve it for being there continously and sometimes I just wanna do it.

I really like all these poses that came out and I'm proud to make them look naturaly sexy.

Thanks so so so so much to my loovely friend and partner in crime, @Y_randsims for the Amazing photo for the cover. I Loooove it!!!! You made me hard to choose just one!!

And, with nothing else to say, I hope you like them all and see you next time with more.

Dag, dag...

----------

What is on it?

6 trio poses (made with a female rig and two modified male rigs) + 3 all in one for each sim.

What do you need?

Andrew's pose player

Teleport any sim by Scumbumbo.

Instructions on the original post.

——

TOU

Do not claim my creations as your own.

Do not re-upload or modify my creations.

Do not make money of my creations.

Do not include my creations in Mods folders to download.

Please follow my Term Of Use.

——

Download it now here . It is FREE for everyone.

——————

If you want to support me:  Patreon | Ko-fi

For more poses: Pinterest |  Wix

My socials: Twitter | Instagram

——————

I really hope you like them and I will say on advance: Thank you so much for use them.

@emilyccfinds​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @ts4-poses​

#ts4 #thesims4 #thesims #sims4 #poses #posesforsims #trioposes #sexyposes #thesims4poses #thesimsposes #simsposes #simmerianne93 #publicdownload #freeposes #freedownload #freecontent #free #download #creator content

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: I did nothing wrong

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)     *Recording begins*

*Door opens and closes*

*Chair dragged against tiled floor*

Magistrate Mul: My name is Mul and I have some questions for you.

Subject: I don’t want to talk until my litigator is here.

Mul: That’s not how things work here.

Mul: I ask you questions and you give me answers.

Subject: I want my litigator.

*Sound of hand smacking subject’s face*

Mul: I see you have a listening problem as well.

Subject: I-

Mul: What?

Subject: I-I-i-

Mul: Speak up already!

Subject: *Whimpers*

Subject: I…I am a citizen of the Terran Republic, and I want to speak with my embassy.

Mul: Did you not heat me before?

Subject: I-

*Another backhand slap*

Mul: What part of “I ask questions and you give me answers” do you not understand?!

Subject: *More nervous whimpers*

Mul: Will you shut up!

*soft sounds of voices coming in through ear piece*

Mul: Uh huh.

*soft sounds of voices coming in through ear piece*

Mul: Yeah.

*soft sounds of voices coming in through ear piece*

Mul: What do you mean I need to stop?

*Intense sound of voices coming from ear piece*

Mul: Fine.

*Sound of chair scraping*

Mul: You’re lucky.

Mul: Someone from your embassy is on the way and I have been advised to not strike you anymore.

Subject: *Says nothing*

Mul: Personally I don’t know why a pathetic piece of grabnar like you deserves special treatment.

Mul: If it was up to me I’d send you to lockup and let the guests there take their turns on you.

Subject: *says something too quiet to hear*

Mul: What was that?

Subject: *softly* I didn’t do anything wrong.

Mul: You didn’t do anything wrong?

Mul: Did I hear you right?

Mul: You must have some nargad sense of right and wrong because I have your file right here *sound of folder being put on the table* and it says you did plenty wrong.

Subject: *says nothing*

Mul: Since we got some time on our hands why don’t we just take a look at this and you can tell me how you did nothing wrong.

*Folder open and contents slip out*

Subject: *Audible sounds of distress*

Mul: Oh?

Mul: Do you not like what you see?

*Sound of photo being slid across table*

Mul: You embarrassed by your own handy work?

*Sound of another photo being slid over*

Mul: How about this one?

Mul: Our crime scene guys used a bit better lighting in this one.

Subject: I don’t want to look at them.

Mul: But you did such a good job.

*Another photo slid over*

Mul: It’s like you were an artist with that gun.

Mul: Bits of your victim were all over the place.

Subject: I said I don’t want to look at those.

Mul: Is that anger in your voice?

Mul: Are you getting angry little human?

Mul: You going to try and kill me too now?

Mul: Try and show what a big “advanced life form” you are?

Subject: I never said-

Mul: Because I can guarantee that the moment you raise one of your tiny little fists above your waist it will be the last time you ever do.

Subject: *Silence*

*Sound of Mul leaning over table*

Mul: Not such a big human without that gun now, are you?

Subject: *More silence*

*Sound of ear piece being taken out and set on table*

Mul: Just between us, why’d you do it?

*Sound of ear piece being smashed by clenched fist*

Mul: Why’d you gun down that Parzen?

Subject: I…..I…

Mul: It’d make it easier for yourself if you just told me.

Mul: Depending on your answer I could say you cooperated; it’d look good for you.

Subject: I was….

Mul: You were what?

Subject: I was scared.

Mul: ……….

Mul: You were scared?

Subject: I panicked, okay!

Subject: I’m not even meant to be here!

Subject: My shuttle got diverted and then they kicked us off while we waited.

Mul: If that is true why did you have a weapon?

Mul: Why would humans allow passengers on civilian craft carry weapons?

Subject: It’s my job.

Subject: I’m a space marshal.

Mul: *no response*

Subject: We go on transports and pretend to be passengers protecting them when needed.

Mul: So you are trained to use your weapon.

Subject: Yes.

Mul: And I assume you are trained to deescalate situations without using force?

Subject: Yes.

Mul: Then why did you shoot the Parzen?

Subject: It’s….I….it’s not….

Mul: Why would someone who is trained to use a weapon, and trained to first use non-violence kill an unarmed Parzen?

Mul: Why did you panic?

Subject: I am only supposed to be on human only transports!

Subject: Aliens……aliens terrify me.

Mul: Do I scare you?

Subject: ……

Mul: So you killed a Parzen because they scared you?

Mul: Walk me through that.

Subject: They kicked us off the shuttle while it was being refueled and told us to wait in the terminal.

Subject: The terminal was filled with aliens.

Subject: Translucent skin, teeth where eyes should be, bits of flesh twitching and warping like they were made of putty.

Subject: It was all unnatural.

Mul: What you say is unnatural is my average Blenkship.

Subject: Blenkship?

Mul: I believe it translates to “Tuesday” in your tongue.

Mul: So how did the Parzen fit in?

Subject: I just wanted to wait for the transport to be ready so I found a corner and dozed off for a bit.

Subject: I’m not sure how long I was asleep for, but I felt something touching me.

Subject: I opened my eyes and there were these blue, slimy tentacles tapping my shoulder; and I followed them up and saw that…alien, with so many eyes looking down at me and that voice screeching I just…..

Mul: You reached for your gun and emptied your entire power cell into them.

Subject: All I saw were those eyes….too many eyes looking down at me…like a predator gazing at its prey.

*Sounds of folder being closed again as a knock came at the door*

Mul: Looks like your litigator is here.

*Sounds of chair being moved back and footsteps going towards the door before stopping.*

Mul: You want to know the worst part of all this?

Mul: Besides you gunning down a defenseless passerby?

*Leaning over to human subject*

Mul: We got eye witness reports on what the Parzen was saying to you, and it was asking if you were alright and needed help.

Subject: *Sounds of crying and sobbing*

*Recording ends*

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #sad

[italoniponic]

May I ask for some headcanons for Cater, Jade and Idia with an s/o that gets easily flustered please?

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

| Notes: Hi, anon!

Aaa this was so cute and wholesome to make! And it’s Idia’s first ask too, I hope I did him justice… or at least, got him relatively right. I love that introverted otaku boy <3 Jade seems kinda mean bc if he’s not slowly driving someone insane just for kicks and fun, then what’s the point? lol Also I used some of the phrases that got associated with Cater, both in jp/en server. And I’m really sorry for the last one

Thanks for the request <3 |

Cater Diamond, Jade Leech, Idia Shroud x g!n reader who gets easily flustered / headcanons / extreme fluff / established relationship / use of “you” pronouns

Cherry's Harvesting event 🍒 Masterlist

So, I Blushed

They say a flushed face evokes innocence and genuineness, someone honest with their emotions. And is aesthetically lovely. It's the only way Cater can sum up about how much he likes to make you flustered or say anything that could bring out that cute shade of pink to your face;

Not that Cater is flirting with you all the time — well, not all the time. Anything he says is pretty casual and simple, but it makes your heart beat fast for no reason. What really gets you, however, are the compliments he gives;

Any little thing you do, Cater appears behind you to say how much “it's so cute”, “amazing, gorgeous, fantastic”, “wow, you are the best” and laugh at your static, embarrassed expression. It's even harder when you two are around others because you try to hide your face behind Cater’s arm and try to hit him with your free hand for being so cheesy and causing all this mess;

Worse than that is only when he takes some hidden photos of you and only then you realize it. You complain about not being photogenic enough but Cater firmly disagrees. You are such a cutie sweetie pie that deserves to be eternalized!;

But he doesn’t post any of these photos without your permission. Perhaps one day you will look at one particular photo and want to even personally show it to your friends but, in general, Cater keeps all these memories in a special folder in his gallery app. Just for him and you to see, which makes it all the more special;

It is necessary to admit that Cater controls himself to the maximum so as not to squeeze your cheeks when you make a flustered face, your cheeks red as it can be. You keep looking cute like that and his heart will go crazy — you heard this phrase from him more than once; 

But Cater knows what it's like to have his face squeezed incessantly just for the sake of being cute — a trauma acquired from his older sisters — and for your sake and his own, he won't do anything of the sort. He doesn't want to seem annoying or bothersome about it so you don't get annoyed with him. Not that this would even happen but to be safe, you prefer not to say anything;

Hugs are Cater’s most powerful weapons to disarm you in any situation. Sometimes you are very anxious or worried about something, situations that seem like they are going to drive you insane. And all you need most at the moment is a motivational gesture from Cay-kun~ to assure you that everything will be fine!;

Not that you survive long after that. In fact, the effectiveness of his hugs is that for a moment, worries are thrown out the window because you register that Cater has his arms around you and it's so comfortable to be around him... and embarrassing. In the words of Trey, “Cater finished breaking you”;

Ideally? You two are a little too different from each other, especially when it comes to how to deal with things. But Cater has his flustered moments, you just need to figure out what really messes with him to balance things out. But aesthetically? You’re perfect and wonderful for him. Like and subscribed!;

One thing that catches Cater by surprise are the times where you mustered up all your courage to say a very sentimental and cheesy thing with a serious and determined face. Cater’s heart snaps, his cheeks turn red and he looks away, smiling weakly, the silence between you keeping the situation peaceful. Especially since you’re dying in your corner yourself.

It would be a lie if Jade said he isn’t amused by your flustered expressions. Not sometimes but always. Call him sadistic and mean all you want, it just makes that velvet giggle of his sound louder. Jade easily figured out that you don't need much to color your cute cheeks with a bright rose red and that's just with one look from him;

Maybe it's a cruel pleasure — well, when it comes to Jade, it definitely is — but it’s also something really hard to explain anyway. There is something inherently fun about teasing the emotions of someone like you. There is no point in complaining too much about it;

When you two start dating, you end up following Jade in most of the things he does. You make terrariums together, he takes you to the mountains and teaches you about what he learned, and sometimes you work together in the Mostro Lounge’s kitchen. Jade’s day is only perfect when you look away for a second, your entire face on fire;

The question is: do you get flustered f with everything or does Jade do everything to embarrass you? A little difficult to answer. You might wonder about this because Jade started setting up joint terrariums and joking that the fungi making a family in there could be the two of you one day — take it as you please;

Or on visits to the mountains, Jade gets close enough to you to show you more clearly the mushrooms he is studying, almost hearing your heart pounding in your chest. His sly ways are so revolting. You threaten to hit him sometimes but your weak and nervous little knuckles in his chest only entertains him more;

The worst is perhaps while you help him prepare dishes at Mostro Lounge and he covers you with compliments even when you do something small and simple. The students look at you enviously because Jade almost never compliments anyone and all this attention makes your stomach flutter;

“Oh, I don't do this just because, you know,” Jade swears. But you know that relying on his particular humor would be unwise. You ask him to be at least a little considerate of your nerves and he jokes about trying to bargain this exchange. If you beg him with a cute face, he could think of your case...;

Part of Jade’s practice in knowing what might embarrass someone comes from observing the way Azul’s family dealt with him — and that he had absorbed in the few times he managed to visit the Ashengrotto’s. You can imagine how using this informations must affect Azul when Jade needs him to do something;

You, Azul and Riddle are constant victims of Jade’s measured words. Trey ends up hearing one thing or another very occasionally. The three boys were sad to realize that it wasn't because Jade was dating you that they would stop being teased when there was an opportunity. As Jade has explained before, it's a really fun thing to do;

Not that you don't try to say something for a change. You try, but you fail almost every time. Jade is an emotionally strong merman. Mere flirting, pick-up lines or a few stories from the past — that you bribed Floyd to tell you — do not shake or embarrass him. But once you got a win;

On an exploration through the mountains, you found some mushrooms and you locked your gaze on one in particular. It was of a different species and had a cut at the top cap that, because it was folded, looked like a lock of side hair. “Look, Jade, it looks like you,” you joked and promised to guard and take care of it in your terrarium. It was the first time you saw Jade’s cheeks turn pink.

There's a lot about your relationship that doesn't make sense to people. But perhaps your shyness is one of the clearest points in common. It’s also the cutest and funniest thing — at least, according to Ortho's kind heart. At least, you've found someone who understands you better than anyone else at this point;

Idia never thought that one day he would meet someone as shy as him. Well, you felt too pressured by people and he felt overwhelmed — and tired — of them. All Idia ever cried out for was a space alone where he could be at peace, without noisy and annoying extroverts;

In this, you appeared as this surprise SSR card that he wasn't expecting to get. Do you have any idea how impressive it is for Idia? Although he would never have the courage to say something so nice like that. Simple compliments or positive grumbles already made you burn brighter than the Sun and he didn’t understand how this was possible;

Was it for him, Idia Shroud, to feel like the main lead guy of a shoujo? One of those that has a pink background with crystalline bubbles appears behind him with red roses blooming around? That all people want to have merch? The most beloved character in the anime? That's only because your face turned pink when you waved at each other in the hallway;

All these emotions are too much for both of you. You like to stop and watch Idia play games from time to time, but when he looks at you suddenly, you look away quickly to try to hide your flustered face. Idia tries to disguise and pretend he didn't notice anything, but the pink flames in his hair give him away;

Things are a little easier when you communicate by messages — or apparently it is so. Although the answers sometimes take a little while, a cute message from Idia makes your heart warm and you move too much in bed, trying to contain this emotion. “Idia is so amazing, how can he not notice?!”, is what you think;

On the other side of the screen, Idia can feel his own face red as fire. He could fry an egg on his own head. He takes time to type things carefully and ensure a balance between being himself and not being his “so pathetic and weird” self. But when you respond enthusiastically or say something nice, he loses control. He can only make strange noises and wonder who blessed you with such a pro-gamer ability to be so cute?;

Exchanging gifts is a very risky and difficult situation. You both get bogged down in words, stumble over sentences and stutter enough to make an alphabet soup. You are like a couple from an old romance anime, where the animation team spent different shades of red only on your faces;

Even if it's hard to put into words, you like to show Idia that you support him and believe in him. For a solid moment, you’re energetic and motivating. Then you realize the scared way he's staring at you and you turn into an embarrassed mess, not knowing what else to say. Then it's Idia's turn to try to cheer you up and tell you that you’re too good for him. The cycle repeats;

There is something strangely endearing about the smiles Idia gives without realizing it. You don't get tired of noticing and thinking about it. He does this when he likes something or keeps trying to call Lucius and Grim when no one is looking. His giggles are the most precious thing in the world. Idia wouldn't know what to say if you revealed how much you gush about him to yourself, delighted with everything he does;

It was a special day, you had gathered to play video games together in Idia's room. Everything was going well until your elbows touched, then you looked at each other and were embarrassed at the same time. Somehow, Idia managed to pass the level. “Congrats,” you celebrated, hugging his arm. “I-Idia?” Congratulations to you... you broke the poor shy thing.

#twisted wonderland #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twst headcanons #cherry's writing #cherry's harvesting

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 9: Fights

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 8

cw: grief

December 1984

Julie stares at the small journal in her hands. Carefully figuring out how to wrap it so it looks pretty like her mom’s. It’s not a perfect present either. Her mom always insisted that she didn’t need to get her anything for her birthday, it already being enough that Julie was here at all. But that felt cheap, wrong. Her mom provided so much for her, she didn’t even deserve the world if it could be given.

So, she did the only thing she could do, wrote a story. It’s been the same for the last few years, something quick and easy but meaningful. A picture of the two of them that she drew, was last years, and now a story to accompany it.

A story where the two of them were happy. Not that they weren’t now, just a different type of happy. In her story, they were living in a house, not a trailer. Three floors, each with its own secrets to unravel. Ghost stories come to life and pictures moving on their own. Journeys they two of them would undertake, just the two of them.

Because that’s how it always was. Julie and her mom, hand in hand and fighting through life together.

They didn’t need anyone else, didn’t want it half of the time. Every time a new person came into their life, it ruined it just a bit. Always disrupted the peace that Julie and her mom had made. And while it could be lonely sometimes, just the two of them, she wouldn’t change it one bit.

So, it felt wrong not to get her something on her birthday. Which was today and Julie can’t even figure out how to wrap it properly. Giving up, she just does it. Folds the paper and tapes it down. The corners are a bit wrinkled, and the paper is sideways, but it’s wrapped.

When she gives it to her mom over breakfast, it’s taken with a smile. The bad wrapping ignored for what’s inside. The hug her mother gives her with a thank you makes up for everything. It didn’t matter that the present wasn’t anything special, it was special to her mom, and to her. That’s all it needed to be.

. . .

Present Day, December 1986

“The place looks the same as when I came here before,” Sarah concludes, writing something in her folder. “Except for the new decorations in Julie’s room, of course.”

Steve stands next to Julie, patiently waiting for the inspection to be over. Even though it went fine, he made sure nothing incriminating was in the house, it still made him nervous. Sarah seemed to be on his side of this, but he was still unsure.

Julie leans against the railing, picking at the skin around her nails. It’s gotten worse in the past few days, bandaids starting to wrap around her thumbs these days. Her hair pulled back in loose braids to hide the fact that it isn’t washed.

There’s this feeling that something is up, and not like it has been before. That something, significant, is coming up. A date that she is now spending without her mom. And he wants to talk about it, but she keeps shutting him out before he can even try. He just doesn’t know what to do.

“I just have some questions to ask the two of you, and then I’ll be on my way. Steve, how about you first.”

Steve nods and leads Sarah to the kitchen table, sitting across from her. She opens a different folder from the one she used in the inspection, glancing at what is inside before looking up at him.

“I had a few more questions about you before I get to discussing the adjustment. You said that you started taking care of the financial aspects of the house since you were sixteen?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “That’s right.”

“Was that the first time your parents left you alone when they went on one of their trips?”

The urge to lie is strong. Just say that it was and get it over with, no one had to know the true extent of what his parents did. But she’s looking at him with the same concern she’d give Julie. That she’s looking out for him as well as her. And for the first time in his life, he feels the need to tell another adult the truth.

“Uh, no. They’ve been going on long trips since I was eight. Never as long as it was when I turned sixteen, but not that short either.”

A sourness turns in Sarah’s eyes with a slight twitch. He tenses, thinking it is geared toward him. But as she scribbles something in a file with his name, he can’t help but think it’s the same anger he’s been feeling for years.

“When you were eight, who was watching you?”

“Nannies mostly.”

“How many years did they hire nannies.”

Steve scratches at the back of his neck, trying to think. “Until I was twelve, thirteen maybe. At least the overnight ones, day to day ones stayed for another two or so years before there was none at all.”

A deep sigh escapes from her mouth as she continues to write. “How long were their trips then? Shorten than now.”

“Yeah. They were a month or two back then, getting longer as I got older. But when I turned sixteen, that’s when the longest one was.”

“And how long was that one?”

“Two years,” he says, for the first time letting it sink in how long it really was.

He knew that it was wrong that they left him alone, that much was obvious. When he was little, he used to cry and wish that they would come home. That they would want him. The hurt turned into anger with age, and now is just a distant memory.

The anger’s still there but trapped behind a veil of other people had it worse. At least he had a roof over his head and a never-ending cash flow to keep himself fed. A job that he went to every day and a car that he didn’t have to pay for. It was just how it was, and there was nothing Steve could do to change that.

But he’ll watch the Byers’, the Henderson’s, the Sinclair’s, and the Wheeler’s, Robin’s parents and Eddie’s uncle. All people who are there, for the most part, that want their kids. It’s hard to ignore the sting in his chest when he goes over for holiday dinners without his parents. Watching the other kids be loved by the people who created them. But it was fine because he made his own family with them. He had family because of them.

It was enough, until it wasn’t. Enough until his father called to berate him, and all that was left was the question of what he could do to earn his father’s love. His father’s respect, admiration. The answer was always nothing, and it was a simple fact that Steve accepted long ago.

“So, I’m going to hand you something, and it’s up to you to decide what you want to do with it, ok.” Sarah closes the folder she was writing in and slides it across the table.

“Ok,” he takes the folder and opens it. Inside is a list of evidence, with notes of how to gather materials to prove it, as well as a pamphlet on how to sue your parents for neglect, and the business card of a lawyer. “What is this?”

“Things I’ve started to write down since our last talk. It’s clear, from the way you talk about them, that they have neglected you. Which is why I asked you more questions about it today and given you this folder. If you would like to, you can sue them for neglect and, if there’s a paper trail of what you’ve said, probably win.”

Thoughts cloud his mind, making it impossible to fully grasp at what she’s saying. Sue his parents, clear neglect. Ruin the little relationship he has with his parents, for what, money. Proving in front of a court the exact type of people they were. Ruin their reputation among the public, and his among their friends because he stood up. Does he really want that?

“Of course, you don’t have to do it, not if you’re not comfortable with it. But, if you were to ever want reparations for the way they treated you, the evidence is there. And it’s damning.”

Steve opens his mouth a few times, but the words don’t come out. “I-I’ll think about it,” is all he can figure out what to say. Not a yes, but also not a no.

“Ok, let’s move on to something else, alright.”

“Ok.”

. . .

Julie is sitting at her lunch table, half falling asleep over her uncompleted math homework. She couldn’t get it done after the check in yesterday. Stress about what was going to come of it, that she might be moved again, had filled most of her day yesterday. Then she was too empty to think of doing anything other than lying in her bed. So, no homework got done.

Not like that was an uncommon occurrence these days. Homework seemed so trivial to the rest of her life. Moving houses, adjusting to new places. Grieving. All of it’s too much already, she doesn’t need to have homework piled on top of it.

Last night was bad, worst than normal. Which is to be expected of this week, but it still hurt. All the questions Sarah asked her to make sure she was adjusting, that she liked it there.

“Do you like it here, Julie?” she asked across the kitchen table.

“Yes,” Julie answered because it was the truth. But only half of it. “I do.”

Sarah had seemed satisfied with her answers, ending the meeting with a promise to be there if she should ever need it. If she would need to move again. Julie didn’t want to move again, she did really like it at Steve’s. There was just something missing, and that was the sad fact of Julie’s existence.

The worst part of it all is that his house started to feel like hers too. Her room was actually her room, with it’s painted walls and posters found at the thrift store. Clothes in the overflowing laundry bin, schoolwork scattered across all the surfaces. It’s her dishes in the sink and her tv program on pause in the living room.

Julie was finally starting to feel at home. Which was the problem.

“Can I ask you a question,” Max asks, breaking Julie out of her thoughts. “You totally don’t have to answer it, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. But I’ve been thinking about it and Steve mentioned that you two are living together now, and I just. Are you ok? Like really ok?”

“I’m fine,” Julie responds coldly, packing up her math homework.

“Yeah, no, I get that. It’s just, when Billy died, I was really going through it, and I didn’t really want to talk about it that much. But it helps, to talk about it, sometimes. And I’m here for you, we’re here for you, me and Jane. We’ve both dealt with this kind of stuff, so if you wanted to talk about it, you could. With us, I mean.”

They’re looking at her like they understand, and they might. But this isn’t the run of the mill thing here. Loosing a brother sucks, Julie’s sure, but she knows they weren’t as close as losing her mom. And Jane, well she didn’t know a lot about Jane so she can’t really speak on that.

This pain was hers and hers alone, and no one can really know what she’s going through. Not the counselors pulling her out of classes to talk to her, not her teachers asking to talk to her after class. Not even then, her only friends she’s had in a long time.

“I told you, I’m fine,” she spits.

She tries not to feel angry when people ask about it. Tries not to feel angry when they try to connect with her. Show that they care. Because she should be grateful that people still care about her. That there are other people who give a shit other than her mom. And a part of her is, but the rest of her stings with the knowledge that they’re only here because her mom is gone.

Max readjusts herself, pressing her lips together. “I get it, I do. Just know that we’re here.”

“Steve was just worried about you,” Jane adds, innocently.

“Jane,” Max exclaims, “We weren’t supposed to tell her that part.”

The only reason she ever met Steve in the first place was because she really had nothing else. And while she was always going to tell him about her existence, of his father’s affair, she’s not so sure she would have done it in the way she did. Meeting him was the last lifeline she had after everything, so she had to take it. It worked out, and she’s grateful.

And now he’s there and he cares, and it should be great, but it hurts. Every time he gives her the look of “I care about you, just know that I’m here” her heart burns because it will never be the same. He’s opened his home to her, worked to take her in, changed his life to accommodate her. She wouldn’t change it, wouldn’t take it all back. It’s nice to have somebody. But he’s not her mom and never will be.

Every time he does something remotely close to what her mom did, she gets a burst of rage. It shows her exactly what she has lost, and what it has meant for her, and she hates it.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Julie says while slinging her bag over her shoulder. She takes her full lunch bag and dumps it into the trash on her way out of the lunchroom, heading straight to the bathroom.

Slamming the door behind her, she heads for an empty stall. She sits on the toilet, pulling the long chain of her locket from underneath her shirt. Opening it to find what’s always been there, a picture of her and her mom. Small and cut off weird, but it didn’t matter.

Tears stream down her face as quiet sobs rip through her chest. She grips the small charm close to her heart and stares at the ceiling.

“Why?” she whispers in the empty bathroom. “Just why?”

. . .

The phone rings on Steve’s nightstand, pulling him out of his sleep. He rolls over to reach the phone, dragging Eddie with him, arms gripped around Steve’s waist.

“Let it keep ringing,” Eddie mumbles into Steve’s shoulder. “Sleep.”

“Can’t, might be the school.” Steve swats Eddie away, finally able to sit up and reach the phone.

Eddie rolls onto his back in protest. “Right, you have responsibilities now. That’s not weird at all.”

“Shut up,” Steve says while picking up the phone. “Harrington residence.”

“Hi, is this Steve?” the woman on the line says.

“Yes, who is this?”

“I’m Mrs. Peters, Julie’s English teacher. You’re listed as her guardian, and I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Is she ok?” He’s half ready to jump out of bed and run out the door if he needs to. Well, after putting clothes on.

Mrs. Peters sighs through the line. “Truth is, I’m not sure. I’ve had Julie in class before, and she was such a good student. One of the brightest I had. Her essays were so thoughtful and her creative writing assignments, they were beautiful. It’s all changed this year. She’s barely turning assignments in, and half asleep most of the time. I know what happened with her mom earlier this year, such a tragedy. And it’s expected that students who go through such a loss will slip a little with grades. But she skipped my class today, so I wanted to give you a call. I’m worried about her.”

Steve leans back on his headboard with a sigh. “I am too. I’ve tried to talk to her about this, but it’s always shut down.”

“I’m sure it’s a hard topic for her to talk about it.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“That’s all I really called for, to see if she’s getting the support she needs at home. I remember you, had you a few years ago when I was teaching seniors. You were a good kid when you started trying, I know you’ll take good care of her.”

His heart warms with some sort of pride. “Thank you, that means a lot. I’m really trying here.”

“I’m sure she knows that. I hope things go better for you, and you’ll be able to talk to her about this. Thank you for stepping up and taking her in.”

“Wasn’t that hard of a decision once I got to know her.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t. I’ll let you go. Good luck, Steve.”

“Thanks for calling bye.” He hangs up the phone, sliding back down under his covers.

Eddie rolls over to look at him. “The school.”

“Yeah,” Steve says while staring at the ceiling. “Remember Mrs. Peters, she’s Julie’s English teacher. Said she missed class today, hasn’t been turning work in.”

Eddie hums. “You’re worried about her.”

How can he not be? When all he sees is the empty shell of a person some days. And he knows that’s not what she’s normally like. Because she’s bright and funny on the better days. And so, so caring.

It was there more in the middle, not the beginning, and not now. But if the night they first met was day one, and this is now day whatever it is. Right in the middle, he could see her, without the sadness that looms in her eyes. Just last week he saw it too, when they were picking up stuff for her room and painting it all. She was there. But the sadness came back again.

“It’s not like I’m expecting her to magically get better, for her grief to go away. I just,” he takes a deep breath. “I just want her to know that I’m here, that she can talk to me. Cause I might not know exactly what she’s going through, but I know enough about it. And even if I didn’t, I’m here to listen.”

He rolls on his side to face Eddie. Eddie takes his hand, encouraging him to continue.

“I just keep getting caught up in this loop of saying I want to help her. To let her know that I’m here. So she doesn’t have to go through this alone. But I never know how to say it, or show it, so I just don’t. And the days keep going on, and she’s still isolating herself. I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s hard, I know,” Eddie comforts. “And, as someone who lost a parent kinda like she did, it sucks, a lot. You think the world has ended and you’re left all alone. You’re angry, and sad, and so many emotions you just can’t name. But can I tell you something that you’re doing right?”

Steve shifts closer to Eddie. “What.”

“You’re showing her that you care. You take her out and change her room, despite the fears that you have. You ask her about her day, and make sure she has food to eat. You make her feel safe, Steve. That is more than any kid can ask for during this time. And while you’re still going to feel like you’re not doing enough. You’re doing the best that you can. If you want to ask her about her mom, you can, it just might not be met with the reaction you want it to.”

He lets out a long breath. “I think that’s why it’s taken me so long to say something. It’s already so weird knowing that we’re related. And knowing that the only reason I know that is because her mom died. It feels weird.”

Eddie presses a kiss to the back of Steve’s hand. “How are you doing with all of this? We haven’t really talked about it since when it first happened.”

Better, Steve thinks. He’s doing better. Even though he now wakes up in his painted room and almost goes into a panic attack. Even though he goes to a job he knows his dad hates. And now provides a home to the kid his dad never wanted.

It’s been hard accepting that he’s officially throwing away the role his parents expected him to play. That he’s finally breaking the last bit of relationship he has between them. He’s finally willing to leave. To have the life he wants, not what they want.

They want the wife and the kids with the picket fences and a good paying job. A respected, get a degree first kind of job. Where the anxieties and the nightmares never happen, and the trauma doesn’t exist. Where Steve’s hearing is normal, and his brain isn’t damaged. Where the scars aren’t there, and he won’t flinch every time the light flickers.

And while some of those things he still wants in his life. The kids, the house, a good paying job. Some aspects of his life are irreversible, unchanging. He didn’t ask for them, but that doesn’t mean they never happened. It’s a part of his life that they will never accept, or even know about.

“As good as I can be. I think a part of me will always hate him, for what he did. To me, and to Julie. And I’m tired of thinking that there will be a day where I’m not a disappointment to him. Especially when there are some parts of my life that I know would get me kicked out of the house. Out of his life. But” he takes a breath, “I don’t want to have a dad if that means I can’t be who I am.”

Eddie smiles, soft with a bit of pain. “It hurts to hear you say that, because I want you to have a family that will love you for all the amazing things that you are. But I am so proud of you for getting to a place where you can say that. I know it was hard.”

“It was,” Steve says, tears gathering in his eyes.

“C’mere,” Eddie pulls him into a hug, holding Steve close as everything lets go.

It was a lot of work getting to the place he is. Time and effort and tears. Years of built up, years of pain. But as the world came crumbling around him, he found more happiness in other people than he has in his entire life. Friends he never would have associated with, a family he never thought he would have.

And here in the bed his father paid for is a man that Steve likes, might even be starting to love. It’s the biggest fuck you he could have ever sent his father’s way. Because in Eddie’s arms, everything starts to fit into place. Everything finally made sense. He is finally, truly, himself.

Steve built himself a home. With Eddie, with Robin, with the kids, with Julie. He had his family, and nothing was going to take that from him now.

. . .

Julie just wants to go home. Wants to crawl into her bed and pray for sleep to come so this awful day can be over. Screw the test she has tomorrow, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore. Not today, and not tomorrow. The sadness will keep coming back, no matter how hard she tries.

She’s just so tired of it being like this. Of having good days where it hurts a bit less, where she can smile and actually mean it. But then waking up the next day and feeling like everything is terrible and never going to get better. Where she can have good days like last weekend, just followed with terrible days like today.

And she knew this day was coming, and knew it was going to be hard. She knew that the day before, and the day after, hell the whole week would be rough. That the grief was going to hit its highest peak since that first week. But it was worse than she could have ever thought.

Steve has off from work today, which means when Julie walks out of the high school doors, his car is in its usual spot next to Eddie’s van. She’ll have to make conversation on the drive back, before being able to escape to her room.

It’s just twenty minutes, she tells herself. Twenty more minutes of an impossible day, before she can stop pretending.

“Hey,” Steve says when she walks up to his car.

She mumbles a small hello before shuffling into the passenger seat, shutting the door with a thud behind her. Steve says a goodbye to Eddie before climbing into the driver’s seat. Pulling out of the parking lot without a word.

“How was school?” he prompts, fishing for something. Like he knows.

Julie hates that. It’s just another thing that pangs in her chest. Something her mom would do countless times when she knew something was bothering Julie. Only another reminder that she isn’t here today. That Julie’s living with someone else.

Leaning her head against the window, watching the trees fly by as they drive, she tries to stay calm. Tries to find a normal way to respond so he’ll just stop.

“Like it always is,” she whispers, just audible enough that he’ll hear it, but quite enough so he knows she doesn’t want to talk about it.

He must understand because it’s the last thing he tries to talk about in the car. She just wraps her coat tighter around her, closing herself up as much as possible. Trying to convince her brain that just because she left the school, the tears aren’t allowed to break through again. She already cried in a bathroom today, she didn’t need to do it in his car either.

“Hey, could we talk for a minute?” Steve asks when they get home, stopping Julie from immediately locking herself away in her room.

She can’t help the eyeroll that comes, the visible slump in her shoulders as she turns to face him. Crossing her arms across her chest, coming off defensive to hide the range of emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

“What,” she says more bitter than she’d like to admit.

Steve flinches, not expecting the harshness in her voice. He takes a breath, trying to think of what to say, like it’s important. She can’t deal with another thing today.

“I got a call from one of your teachers today, Mrs. Peters. She said you missed class,” he says it with a level voice, face full of concern.

It does nothing but make her blood boil. He wasn’t supposed to know, wasn’t supposed to care. That wasn’t supposed to be his job. Steve was her brother, not her parent. Julie didn’t have one of those anymore. And the face he’s making is the one she would see all the time, practically lived on her mom’s face sometimes.

“So,” she rolls her eyes. Wishing he would just drop it.

It’s like the two images of them are morphing together in her mind. Her mom and Steve becoming one person. Like he’s replacing her, becoming the new person in her life to fill that role. He didn’t get to do that. She didn’t get to forget her mom. Even if she doesn’t live in the same house anymore, even if her life has changed. It was never supposed to.

“So. I’m worried about you. You’re missing class and skipping meals. You think I don’t notice when you go to school in the same clothes as the day before. I know that this all has to be a lot for you, believe me I know how life can just take everything and spit you out expecting you to recover like nothing happened. I know-.”

“You don’t know,” Julie bursts, tears starting to well up in her eyes. “You can’t possibly know what it’s like. It’s bad enough that you ask my friends to try to talk to me about it, at school even. You don’t get to say that you know what I’m going through.”

Steve takes a breath, looking up at the ceiling. “I didn’t ask them to talk to you about it.”

“But you mentioned it to them, isn’t that enough.” She’s yelling now. Anger that she knows is misplaced, hitting the only target it could find.

“And I’m not saying I know what you’re going through. I’m saying that I’ve been in a place like yours before and it sucks. It’s one of the worst things a person can go through.”

“I get that you had a sad childhood, and your parents were never around. But that doesn’t give you the right to compare your situation to mine.”

It’s a low blow and she knows it. An arrow perfectly aimed just to get him to shut up. To get him to hurt enough to leave her alone. Because she can be mad at him. He’s here to be mad at. Giving her every opportunity to.

Because she can’t be mad at her mom. Julie can’t be mad at her for leaving her alone. For leaving at all. How can she be mad at the dead for leaving. She can wish and pray and beg the universe for her mom to come back. Cry a river of tears caused by the unbelievable grief that it’s left her in. Be upset with all that’s happened to her. Wonder what went wrong that night to take it all away from her.

But angry. No, that wasn’t allowed. She’s not allowed to be angry at her mom, especially for this.

Her words hit their mark, making Steve stop for a second. For his eyes to glaze over just a bit before he blinks it away. She should be remorseful, should take back everything she said and get it over with. But for a small second, she thinks that this might be over. That she can just run away without saying another word and cry herself to sleep for the third night in a row.

But instead, he keeps talking.

“That’s not what I was talking about, but that doesn’t matter. The point of all of this, was to tell you that I’m here if you ever want to talk.” The levelness of his voice is gone, and all that is left is bitterness behind his words. Just like she wanted, but it still stings. For reasons that she can’t quite explain even if she wanted to. But she’s tired of talking, so she just explodes.

“Just stop ok,” she pleads through her raised voice. “You’re not my mom.”

Her chest heaves with her words, the arrow coming back and hitting her instead. Tears well up in her eyes as she grabs her bag, running up the stairs before he can say anything else. And she’s pretty sure he does, but she can’t hear it. Doesn’t care that she didn’t.

Instead, she slams her door and falls into her bed. Not her bed, actually. Because her bed is back in the trailer park with her mom in the other room. Now it’s empty with nothing but her mother’s ghost, and Julie’s not even there to try and say hello.

. . .

“I’m not trying to be,” Steve says as Julie’s running up the stairs. She slams her bedroom door, isolating herself and blocking him out.

It could have gone better. A lot better. It actually went to shit. He didn’t know how else to do it. And he should have just waited, he saw what she was like in the car. That far off distant look as she just gazed out the window and didn’t talk. Not like he would ever force her to, but he wanted her to.

There was a day a few weeks ago where he picked her up, and she was so talkative. Told him about this book that she was reading for a book report and how much she liked it. How she saw herself in the main character, and loved how the world was crafted. Went on a on about it for the whole ride, and even past that. It was great, it was her.

That day, he saw past the grief that’s been encapsulating her. To the girl she was before the accident, before her mom passed. He just wanted to be able to see it more often sometimes.

It’s not like he was trying to speed run her grief, he never would. It just hurt to see her come home every day and shove all her feelings away just to keep a neutral face. To hide the fact that she was hurting from him. He didn’t have the right to see how she really felt, but he wanted to offer the key if she ever wanted to open the door.

So, he tried to, but look where that ended.

He runs a hand through his hair, keeping his hand and the back of his neck with a long exhale. Thoughts rushing through his head on how he can fix this. How he can apologize for pushing, and just take back everything that happened.

It’s an impossible task, he knows. Time, she just needs a little time to cool down. And Steve does too. The focus is on her, but he can’t ignore what she said either. Even if it wasn’t the worst this in the world, it was just enough to make him falter. To make him a little angry. Upset. He knew the technique well. Hurt someone else just because you’re hurting. Doesn’t make it right, but he knows.

Steve’s not angry at Julie, not for what she said. If anything, he’s just sad. Hurts for her and what she is going through. How even though he knows grief, he doesn’t know this. Losing a parent is something he never experienced, not like this. But he still wants to reach out.

He gives it an hour, lets her have her space. For her to cool down, and for him to as well. Let’s what happened settle in, so it’s not rushed.

Standing in front of Julie’s door, he knocks gently. She doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t hear music coming through the room, but that doesn’t mean she’s listening. He still talks anyway.

“Julie. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up like that, and I didn’t mean to make you upset. I could have been gentler, could have said it differently. And probably could have waited for a better time. But I’ve been worried about you for a while now. And while you probably don’t want me to be, it’s true. You’re my sister, and while we haven’t known each other for a long time, I still care about you.”

He pauses, thinking about what to say, and how to say it. To tread lightly. Deciding it’s best just to take a step back, just a bit.

“I’m going to be honest, I have,” he takes a deep breath, “no idea what I’m doing. When you showed up at my door that night, I didn’t know what was going to happen past that. What I did know, is that I wanted to help you. I wanted to get to know the sister that I never knew, that I was never given the chance to know. And you let me, you let me give you a space in my house, you let me into your life. Sure, there were a lot of other factors in there that I’m sure influenced that decision, but I hope at least part of it was that you wanted to get to know me too.”

Steve rests his head on the door, willing himself to just find a point to this. “You’re right, I have no clue what you’re going through. The other things in my life that I’ve gone through, they might be similar, but they’re not the same. And I would never say that they are. But I’m here for you, whether you want me to or not. You’re the only blood related family I got, too. I’m not going away that easy. But I can never know how you’re feeling if you don’t let me in.”

He waits a minute, seeing if she would open the door. But the hall clock’s second hand the only sound filling the space, so he steps back and turns to walk away. Until the door lock clicks.

“What about your parents?” Julie asks, door open.

A sigh of relief escapes his lungs, He might have done something a little right.

“I was sixteen when they left for two years straight with barely a phone call from them every few months. The only time they came back was to reprimand me for not getting into college the day of my high school graduation. They didn’t even go to the ceremony. I might be related to them, but they’re no family.”

Julie stares at him with tears still painting her eyes. Hair falling out of her ponytail and sweatshirt sleeve cuffs still a little damp. “You were left alone, here, all by yourself at sixteen?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I know a little what it’s like to be left behind at this age. Not the same, but not entirely different.”

She opens the door a little more, motioning with her head for him to come in. He walks into the room, sitting down next to her at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t really mean it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know you didn’t. I’m sorry for pushing.”

Wiping a fresh tear off her cheek, she pulls something from underneath the bed and holds it in her lap. A small journal. “Don’t be. I think I needed you too, just a little bit.”

“Can I ask what that is?”

Julie presses her lips together, blinking away a lingering tear. She hands him the journal, letting him take it. He doesn’t look in it though, it doesn’t feel right.

“I pretty much have a journal a year, sometimes two.” She points to the tall stack of journals on her desk. “Every year since I was seven. I wrote stories in them, journal entries, and drew pictures with them. A few years ago, I got an empty journal to write a story in for my mom. And every year, I would ask for it back and write a new story in it. It was her birthday present every year.”

He looks at the journal in his hand, already knowing where this is going. “I’m sure she loved it.”

“She did,” Julie whispered. “I never got to finish the one for this year. After everything that happened, just couldn’t bring myself to look at it. Let alone finish it.’

“I’m sure she would understand, you’ve had a rough couple of months.”

“Yeah,” she lets out a shaky breath. Leaning her head back on the foot of the bed and looking up towards the ceiling. “Today’s her birthday,” she chokes out. “And I just feel so guilty for not finishing it.”

Steve doesn’t quite know what to do, but he’s trying. “Hey,” he places a hand on her shoulder. “It’s ok.”

“No, it’s not.” Tears start to roll down her cheeks faster than she can wipe away. “I’m just so sad that she’s gone, and then I get angry. I get angry at her for leaving, and at the accident for happening. Then I get upset for being angry because I know it wasn’t her fault. I can’t be mad at her for something that’s not her fault.”

“You still have a right to feel whatever you are about it all though. Be mad at the universe, not her. Be upset that she’s not here anymore, wish that she was here. All of those things.” He laughs in his head about the irony of what he’s saying, about what he’s going to say. How it took other people telling him to do the same thing for him to finally let himself feel. “Keeping it all bottled up, ignoring that they’re there and telling yourself that you shouldn’t feel this way. That’s not healthy, believe me.”

Julie looks at him, finally. Eyes puffy and cheeks stained with tears. “I miss her.”

“I know you do.”

The dam lets itself loose and Julie crumbles, leaning toward Steve as she breaks. He pulls her into a hug similar to the one that he gave Dustin months prior when they were waiting in hospital rooms. Holding her close to shield away the bad, as the emotions ignored to keep appearances finally break free. Letting her know that he’s safe, and he’s here.

That he’ll always be here.

Part 10

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman, @lilpomelito @melonmochi

#stranger things #fanfic #stranger things fanfic #long lost/secret sibling #steve has a sibling #steve harrington #julie lawson #eddie munson #steddie #max mayfield #el hopper #angst #cw grief #tw grief #i don't know which ways home fic

[endlessthxxghts]

Going anon because I don’t want you to focus on who sent you this (although I’m sure something I’ll say might give me away <3), but rather, I want you to focus in on your amazing self.

Something I like to do in my daily practice is write down a few things of what made me most happy that day… but for purposes of this, I’d like you to tell me which fic (can be multiple) that you wrote makes you the most happy!

Ignore the notes, ignore the traction — which fic of yours makes you the most happy and warm and all the good feelings, and give an explanation (however long you want) as to why❤️

A lot of times, especially in a world like this where the internet and other’s creativity is so accessible, we forget to give our own selves the credit we deserve. This is my way of sprinkling around that little bit of gratitude.

I hope you have a beautiful day wherever you are.

Never short on love for you😘

Heheheheh okay I’m gonna cackle and reveal a secret real quick. If anyone has gotten this message, it was actually me LOLOLOL & now that I’m getting it back from someone makes me laugh BUT I LOVE YOU SO MUCH WHOEVER DECIDED TO SEND THIS TO ME?!🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

And for my answer (in no particular order!)🩶:

Routine. I don’t know how to explain why I’m so proud of this one. This one was in part of that secret santa event that @/pedrostories held, and so I think it was the fact that this was a story that I couldn’t just let die in my WIPs folder😭. And also because this was meant for someone and for a prompt that specific someone gave (@/alwaysbethewest much love!!!), I truly didn’t want to disappoint. I wanted to give my all. And in doing so, this pairing ended up latching themselves in my heart and in my soul in a way that I never want to get rid of. I love these two so much. The vulnerability they have with each other, the raw emotion and love. It just. It came out so beautifully. And sometimes I can’t believe my silly little brain had something to do with it.

Tell Me More. This fic in particular holds a really emotional place in my heart. It was written out of a headspace in which I was needing a bit of comfort in multiple aspects of life, but mainly I just wanted a little bit of comfort in having someone who truly accepts me for all that I am. So although this one was written purely out of self-indulgence, I also gain major comfort in the fact that those who have read this story can find some comfort in it as well — whether it’s because they relate personally or just find the beauty in unconditional love, it makes my heart full.

Solace. This one is my first Din fic, and honestly, I’m so so so proud of it because this is the first time I truly and wholeheartedly felt pride towards something I’ve written. And i know I’ve had a bunch of you always reassure me that what I do write is good, but this is the first story where I truly didn’t need anyone’s reassurance but my own. I’m so proud of this one. Also because Din has a really really special place in my heart, and being able to write this story so fluidly (I wrote this entire story in one sitting!) just fills me up with so much happiness.

To whoever sent this to me, I love you and I appreciate you <3

Also I’m still sending the message out to people because I love a cute gratitude moment <3 I’m sorry if I haven’t gotten to you yet ah😩. Whoever sent this to me, feel free to send it out to others as well!!! You are my official messenger 🫡 LMAOOO.

#💌: endless answers <3 #what are you proud of? #give yourself credit too!!

[spaceshipsoutthepool]

WIP Wednesdaaaaaaaaay

As per winner here's a bit of 'Sand in your Eyes' (or sand in my eye. title not yet vibe checked) and poll for next week below <3

+++

“Do you suppose she told me about the ‘TEA’ that time and her special operative work on purpose?” Penelope had asked. She’d barely said anything on the matter. or any matter for that matter. not since- well. the bad news.

“Not just to pick up the TEA pot, I mean. Just…the timing of it…” She’d trailed off. Must unlike her ladyship. “I couldn’t say m’lady.” Parker replied. “Maybe p’haps her lady Sylvia thought you deserved the truth?”

“Hm. It’s nice to know it’s not just father and the fellows of the family with an exciting history.” Her Ladyship had said. and returning to staring at folder on new information on the Hood’s possible whereabouts. one she’d not turned the page of for nearly half an hour.

It was barely spoken of after that.

Parker had crossed the line at least a dozen times enquiring how she was feeling and was met with a polite but firm rebuff. He’d even overstepped his own line in the sand when he spontaneously tried to give her shoulder a comforting squeeze after a very hard day. But she’d tensed up to the point of being rigid, so he figured the gesture was unwelcome, and hadn’t tried it since.

All was forgiven after a cup of tea, but he never got any answers. He was more worried she didn’t have them for herself.

The Tracy’s and the team had kept in touch. The family had already sent their sympathies, along with care packages for each of them. Parker hadn’t asked what was in her ladyship’s, but he appreciated the beer and new driving playlists he’d received.   Alan Tracy had asked to fly out to London, along with Scott to visit. But something, and someone in need of saving, had come up. It seemed like everyone and their pet lizard need International Rescue’s help, and none of the islanders could catch a break.

++

bit le sad soz. anyway-!

there is a lot of stingray options this week and i am not a bit sorry.

#thunderfam #thunderbirds are go #my fanfiction #wip wednesday #lady penelope #parker #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go fanfiction

[the-badger-mole]

Hallmarks of the Season: Part 5

Zuko didn't reach out again that night. There was nothing from him in the morning, either. Katara thought about messaging him again, but she couldn't think of anything to say except how disappointed she was. She took Sesi to the school playground for a while as a distraction, but it was too cold to stay longer than an hour. At home, Katara found herself avoiding questions about Zuko's arrival. There was no room in Hakoda's house, but there were questions about whether the local inn would have any vacancies, and if the quality would be high enough, and what he might like to eat, and...

Katara retreated to the guest room after an early lunch. Her impromptu project for Aang's shop was a convenient excuse to hideaway from her family, but the very basic campaign didn't take Katara very long. Within a few hours, she'd created a folder full of flyers, loyalty card templates, and enough sample specials and coupons to last Aang well through spring. Downstairs, she could hear her family chatting happily about plans for a game night the following night. Katara heard them mention Zuko a few times, and it sent a sharp pain through her chest. The hangout with Sokka and their friends was that evening. There was no way she'd be able to avoid answering questions about her fiancé. Aang's words from the day before echoed in her mind.

"You deserve to be cared for the most."

It wasn't that Katara thought Zuko didn't care. He had a life with dreams and ambitions that predated her. She had her own goals, too. She had just hoped that by this point in their relationship, they would have figured out how to merge their plans and prioritize each other. Katara didn't need to be Zuko's whole world, but she wanted as central to his life as he was to hers. Yet, Zuko hadn't called to even discuss his new travel plans with her. She wasn't even sure he was coming at all.

There were no new notifications on her phone. Katara opened the text thread she had with Zuko, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. The cursor blinked up at her expectantly. She had no idea what to say. Finally, she closed the text app and found Zuko's name in her phonebook.

The phone didn't ring. It went straight to voicemail, and there was Zuko's gentle rasp asking her to leave a message after the tone. Katara hung up without saying anything. She opened the text thread again. Finally, she typed out three words.

Please call me

She set her phone aside and walked over to the door. Her family was still talking together downstairs. Katara wasn't ready to face them yet, but staying in her room waiting for her fiancé to text or call felt depressingly pathetic. She glanced back at her bed, where her laptop sat still open. She had been planning to just email the folder of advertising material to Aang, but she had an almost empty flash drive, and a long walk sounded like just what she needed to clear her head.

Any hopes of slipping out unnoticed were dashed when Sesi spotted her aunt slipping on her shoes.

"Auntie, where are you going?" Sesi scrambled up from where she was playing dolls with Sokka and ran over to the door. Katara forced a blithe smile.

"I have to run the flyers over for Mr. Aang's shop," Katara explained.

"But you were supposed to play dolls with me!" Sesi pleaded with Katara. Her wide, dark eyes filled with tears, and her lower lip quivered. She looked heartbroken in the way only children can be when they want to share their toys with someone they love. Katara leaned down and kissed Sesi's forehead.

"You've got me all day tomorrow," she promised. "We'll go get manicures and have hot chocolate." Sesi nodded, mollified, but not quite past the moment's disappointment. Sokka wandered over and leaned against the bottom of the banister.

"Won't that be a bit hectic?" Sokka asked. "With Zuko coming and all?" Katara froze for a moment, then busied herself with getting her jacket on.

"He's not supposed to land until late," she said, keeping her voice light and carefree. "There'll be plenty of time for a girls day." Katara blinked hard against the sudden sting of tears. She was almost out. She was almost free of her family's too observant concern. Then Sokka caught her shoulder and made her turn around. His eyes widened when he saw the tears trying to escape.

"Katara are you-" he started and then changed his mind. "Don't forget, we're supposed to go to Toph's tonight. I know how you like to primp." Katara's shoulders sagged in grateful relief.

"I'll be back in time," she said. "I'm not staying long. Just going to drop off the flash drive come back."

"You want to take my car?" Sokka offered. Katara waved him off.

"I feel like taking a walk." Sokka understood what she meant.

"Call me if you need to."

Katara slipped out of the house and into the street. She was ready for the tears to come, but they seemed to have passed for the moment. She was mostly alone again. There were a few neighbors passing on their way to someplace else, but mostly, the chill air and grey skies made staying inside a much more welcoming prospect. Katara didn't mind the cold though. It rarely got this cold in Ba Sing Se, and Katara often found herself missing the sharp bit of winter air. She didn't spend much time thinking on her walk. She just let her eyes observe the sights around her. The sun was already beginning to set, and the streetlights flickered on as she passed beneath them. Houses and yards were decorated for the season, and some of the bright displays were already turned on, casting their multicolored glow on the dusting of snow. Katara took it all in with detached admiration. She felt like a wandering spirit passing through a world she no longer belonged to.

Aang was behind the counter when Katara arrived, aimlessly doodling on a scrap of paper. He perked up when Katara walked in. She smiled and waved the flash drive at him.

"Your very first marketing campaign," she told him, laying the stick in his palm. Aang excitedly booted up the ancient secondhand computer on the counter and pulled up the folder Katara had created. He showered praise on the colorful, eye catching flyers and the brilliance of using loyalty cards to attract repeat business.

"I'd have never thought of this," Aang admitted.

"You should look into hiring someone to manage this for you," Katara said. "At least until you get the hang of it yourself."

"I don't know if I can afford that." Aang shrugged.

"I think it would be worth it to try to find space in your budget for at least someone to at least make a new flyer for you every few months," Katara advised him. "What's your overhead? If you don't mind me asking."

"Well," Aang laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't actually know. When bills come, I make the payments and hope the money is there." Katara's eyes widened in horror.

"Aang, you do keep track of your business earnings, right?" she asked. Aang shook his head.

"I figured wouldn't be important until I need to hire someone," he said. "Most of the money right now is coming from my personal account. Since I didn't end up going to vet school, Gyatso gave me the money he saved for the business instead." Katara pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth and bit down on it.

"Aang, maybe you should think about taking a business ownership course," she suggested. "There's a lot of moving parts in running a business, especially if you're goal is to eventually expand. You need to know how to make a budget and where to invest. How to track how much money you're spending on supplies, and utilities, and insurance. Most courses even have a section on how to build your own marketing campaigns." Aang shrugged carelessly.

"The school thing isn't really for me," he said. "Once I start bringing in more business, I can worry about the other stuff."

"Yeah, but you still need to know-"

"Katara!" Aang interrupted her with a laugh and motioned for her to slow down. "I know that all that stuff is important with a big corporation like yours, but this is just a pet grooming shop. It's not that complicated." Katara wanted to push, but Aang stood with his arms folded and his trademark cheerful smile on his face. Katara remembered the subtle signs that he was done listening. She just shrugged.

"If you ever do want more advice," she told him. "My dad has a lot of experience with small business ownership. I sure he wouldn't mind answering a few questions."

"I'll keep that in mind," Aang said, still smiling that cheerful smile. "Thanks, though, for worrying about me." Katara shot him a half smile.

"Anytime. Well, I need to head back."

"So soon?" Aang moved from behind the counter. "You just got here."

"I only came to drop off the flash drive," Katara explained. "I wanted to take a walk, and coming to see you seemed like a good excuse for one. I have to get home and get ready for tonight. You're still coming, right?"

"I wouldn't miss it!" Aang said. Katara leaned against the door, letting the chill air in. "Wait!" Katara paused.

"What's up?" she asked.

"I'm not busy here," Aang said. "Want some company?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah!" Aang grabbed his coat and pulled a wool hat over his bald head. "I could use a walk myself." They paused just long enough for Aang to turn off the lights and lock the door behind him.

The pair walked in silence for a few blocks. Night had fallen almost completely now, and the town was even quieter than when Katara had arrived. She tucked her hands into her pockets. It had been over an hour since she'd last checked her phone, but she didn't pull it out now.

"So..." Aang started once they'd left the main street behind. "Did your boyfriend text you back yet?"

"He's my fiancé," Katara corrected absently. "And no, not yet. I haven't heard from anyone at work, so I'm hoping that things haven't gotten worse."

"Well, it can't be that bad, right?" Aang asked. "He's supposed to be here tomorrow. He'd tell you if he wasn't...right?" Katara clenched her jaw. In her pockets, her hands balled up into tight fists.

"Of course!" she said with a cheeriness she didn't feel. She would have felt her phone vibrate if he'd called. But maybe she missed the notification buzz from his text. Her family was still expecting him to arrive the next day. Maybe she should try-

"You shouldn't let him take you for granted," Aang broke Katara's train of thought.

"He's not-" Aang stopped walking and turned to face Katara.

"Don't say that, Katara! I know you! I can tell you're upset, and he's upset you. Is he even coming tomorrow? Does he know that him being here is important to you?"

"Stop it!" Katara snapped at him. "You have no idea what you're talking about! Right now, he's trying to make sure that not only does his company survive, but that everyone in the company is going to be okay."

"The company this, the company that!" Aang huffed. "When did you become a corporate drone that only cares about the bottom line? And then you try to force it on me? Overhead? Business class? Success isn't just about getting a bunch of money. Maybe if this Zuko guy knew that, he'd be here!"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Katara glared at Aang furiously. The tears she hadn't been able to shed before flowed freely now. "You don't even know Zuko!"

"Well, maybe I don't want to know him! Maybe I don't want to the guy who could care so little about you that he can't even be bothered to text you back. You're marrying this guy? Why? Because he's rich?"

"What is your problem?" Katara rounded on Aang, her entire being blazing with rage. "I haven't seen or heard from you in almost a decade, and you think you can just judge my life? You don't know Zuko. And you know what, you don't know me."

"I do know you," Aang clutched Katara's shoulders and forced her to look him in the eyes. "I've known you since we were kids. I know you're upset. I know you're not happy with him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself you are." Katara stiffened and started to protest, but then Aang's lips were on hers. the thoughts racing through Katara's head sped until they were indistinguishable white noise. Then the kiss was over, and Aang looked down at her softly for a moment. His cheeks were red, but whether from the cold or emotion or shame, it was impossible to tell. He cleared his throat, and took a step back.

"I...I should go," he said. He rushed off, back towards his shop, and Katara continued on, numbly. She was almost home.

When she turned the corner down Hakoda's block, Katara had enough presence of mind to register the unfamiliar dark car. She hesitated, with a groan. Hakoda or Sokka had a guest. Katara considered just turning around and walking to Toph's bar. There was no real reason to change her clothes. She wasn't attempting to impress anyone, and Toph's bar wasn't exactly Upper Ring fancy.

It might be Suki, Katara thought. Sokka had mentioned that he'd reached out about joining them that evening. Maybe they'd arranged for her to meet them at the house. Katara walked forward slowly, still contemplating her next move. She was one streetlight away when the driver's side door opened and a tall man with shoulder length hair stepped out.

"Zuko," Katara gasped.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six

#atla #holiday feel goods #zutara #hallmarks of the season

[feitans-sweet-lover]

Relationship Headcanons: Feitan

Hey!! Here’s a few things I thought of for Feitan regarding a relationship with his s/o! Sorry the headcanons are not in order! Also my spelling is not the best at 2am, I apologize in advance :) Who should I do next?

What he looks for/wants in a partner | Part 1

I don’t think Feitan would not want his partner to be in the troupe, mafia, hunter, etc. I think out of all the troupe members he’d want the most civilian like s/o. A true sliver of light in his dark world. Someone that only he knows about. It doesn’t mean she is a captive, they can live their own life, do their own thing, have their own friends, etc. He trusts them. They’re his home. Some things are just meant for him to know. So he’s not willingly sharing the information with anyone. Even Chrollo.

He’d probably prefer it if they were an ambivert. More talkative than him. He would want someone more bubbly, naive and a little shyer but not afraid to be blunt and honest. Someone who isn’t afraid to ask questions, talk about anything and everything. (example: if he was talking about torture methods he would ask her thoughts, methods, what ways they’d think is the most painful—very “what if x,y and s happened” or “what do you think would be the most gruesome way to draw out death”. Most of the time he’d try out their methods or critique their process/tell them if it would work or not and why.) He’d love it if they wanted to learn all about torture and how someone could break.

Would love someone who’d love mysteries.

Would love it if they were terrified of thrillers and horror so he can laugh at them all while making fun of them. He also secretly loves it when you cling to him.

Totally wants a touchy s/o. Not heavily pda with others around but when they’re alone it’s all on.

If in public he likes to hold your waist, hand or pinky’s.

He prefers cute over sexy.

Loves freckles. He’s not sure why but that added with a bit of innocence and blonde hair, he’s a goner.

Would secretly melt if his s/o could do puppy dog eyes. Wouldn’t change his mind but he’d think it was cute and funny tactic.

Totally tease and prank each other. Sometimes he goes to far or you do. No matter who messed up he will come to you when he’s ready to communicate.

Communication is hard at times. If you really make him mad he will tell you he had a call for a mission or needs some space and will leave for a while before he does something reckless that he’s gonna regret.

I don’t see his s/o being a true fighter. Feitan likes to be dominant to much for that. However, he would teach you basic self defense and would be willing to mess around with you sword fighting.

His s/o would definitely need to be submissive but not afraid to test the waters and be a bit bratty at times as well. ;)

He would never seriously fight you because he knows he most likely would go to far and kill you. He’d rather avoid his chances.

Would love it if you picked a date to celebrate his birthday. He’s never had one and it would be something special and you might even see a tear.

The best present he ever received from his s/o was a homemade cake. It doesn’t matter if it’s good or not, he has never had anyone show that kind of love and care before so it would be so meaningful to him.

He would like it if you learned his native language. He’d also like if you read to him in yours.

He normally only cuddles at night. Prefers to do it in the dark so you can’t see his face.

Would totally make blanket forts with you.

If he had to leave before you were awake he’d leave you coffee the way you like it, and a little silly note next to your nightstand and kiss your forehead before leaving.

Since he has insomnia he normally just likes watching you sleep and contemplating how he got to this point and if he truly deserves happiness. Also, he loves taking pics of you sleeping. Such a sweet sight, they’re all in a hidden folder on his phone. He often looks at pics of you (generally unflattering) when he’s by himself.

Doesn’t text you much when he’s gone but he generally does say morning and night when he can. Or sends you a photo of something from a different trip he went on.

He totally has an album of photos to send you whenever he has a “thinking of you” or a “I’m alive and should text something” kinda moment.

While he’s not totally happy (and probably never be) he is content with your life together and that’s a win.

Not super materialistic so whatever is his, money, jewelry, goods, etc is yours. He doesn’t expect you to share back though.

Would never hurt you intentionally.

He would never let his s/o watch him or listen to him torture someone. It’s one thing talking about it but when you actually witness it, even if you swear it won’t, Feitan knows it will change their opinion of him. He never wants them to see him as the true monster he is. Not totally. He thinks there’s a time and place where naivety and innocence is acceptable and that’s with his partner.

He wouldn’t punish or torture his partner. There’s just something so much more intimate about torture with his s/o. He doesn’t know or understand why but seeing them hurt isn’t something that pleases him as it usually does. He would want to use knives on his partner but only as a reward and would want them to see it that way as well.

He has his own set of personal knives dedicated only to you. He got you your own set as well to teach you how to properly cut. If his s/o was terrible he’d totally make fun of them.

He would eventually let you cut him as practice. He sees it as mastery in the process. A beautiful work of art because it was done by you.

His “I’m sorry” is never vocal. Normally it’s a hug with a kiss on the forehead and their favorite food or beverage.

I think his s/o would work in the art field. Either an artist, illustrator, writer, coder, or baker. These are jobs where Feitan doesn’t need a true knowledge of English/Japanese but instead can trust his sense of sight and emotions to guide the communication. In addition he sees torture as a form of art so he feels like you’d be able to understand the beauty of different artistry in a way most people couldn’t.

He’d love an inquisitive s/o but one who also knows the time and place. He would love one whose more empathetic and in tune with his emotions, someone who could read him since he’s not the best at communicating his needs.

Love language would probably be acts of service, touch and quality time.

He loves you blow drying and playing with his hair. Honestly he likes to be taken care of but it’s hard for him to show that type of vulnerability most of the time. So for now he’ll stick to his hair being fluffed.

Loves getting you any trinkets that he reminds him of you. Jewelry, a book, clothing, sweets, literally anything that he can carry back for you he would. A habit for every trip. He even brought you sand one time both because he thought it’d be funny and because it was the only thing at the destination.

He wouldn’t keep who he was a secret from his partner. He would be upfront and answer any questions they had. If they had gotten to this point he trusts them with his and his troupes life.

He would warn them areas to stay out of if he knew the troupe or mafia would be around to avoid her getting hurt.

I see him having an s/o that’s independent and dependent. Can do their own thing but loves being around him. A best friend kinda s/o. Probably an s/o with a few friends (2-3) that drops off the face of the earth for long periods of time when communicating with them.

Part of the reason he can never tell the troupe about his partner is because they’d be the one thing he couldn’t lose. Couldn’t kill. Even if she betrayed him he still could not bring himself to kill his s/o.

If his s/o died or was murdered. Feitan would never let another person in again. He would be colder, crueler, more disinterested. To be honest if he could he’d probably just disappear from everyone and everything even the troupe and become a hermit somewhere no one would ever find him.

Feitan would have a list of everything you have ever said you’d wanted to do before you’d die and he would do for you by himself. When he’d complete the list is the only time he let himself cry over you. Feeling only more alone, angrier and emptier than before. A true sense of loss. He thought it would make him feel better and near you. It didn’t.

Regardless if his s/o is dead or alive, He’d have a lock of your hair incased in a ring in the shape of a skull on a chain. Similar to a Victorian mourning jewelry.

You dying would be the only time in Feitan’s life that he would pray to any god willing to hear him. He would do anything to keep you with him and will barter his life or anything else to get there.

He would not let go of your body for days after your demise. He’d be silent. Letting his rage out unexpectedly and wildly. Not caring who dies in the crossfires or the damage done. He honestly doesn’t care if he dies too. However, he vows to keep living because that’s what you would’ve wanted so he refuses to end it all knowing you would be disappointed.

You’re the only person he’s ever even let his mind wander about having kids for just because he thinks your mini me would be the cutest. He’d also have fun teaching the ways of torture so be warned, haha!

He doesn’t understand his emotions a lot of times but he knows that there’s something about you that makes him intoxicated, softer, gentler, protective and loving. He’ll never understand if it’s actually love since he never had felt this before but he figures why stop a good thing that he’s curious to see where it goes.

Loves quirky and authentic.

#hxh headcanons #feitan #hxh #hxh imagines #feitan porter x reader #hunter x hunter #feitanporter #feitan x reader #hxh feitan imagine #hxh feitan

[ransprang]

I love yall hni fanfics sm like hni deserve more quality fanfic like this ,also i was wondering that could yall write (n)sfw hcs for my boy Itagaki Manabu with fem reader (im crazy abt him and bro has like zero fanfic for me to delulu TT.. ,have a nice day and tysm!! :33)

hii wow my first itagaki request :o sorry if this isn't that great, he is kinda baby to me 😭😭

Itagaki Manabu x fem!reader Hcs

SFW

I think the only criteria you need for him to like you is that you are punny. Otherwise you really won’t get along with his family which is something important to him

also get ready for puns to be made from your name

he often goes to Ippo for tips on what sort of dates to go on. So needless to say he has to get creative on his own. Most of the time Nanako will help him out. In exchange he gives Nanako tips on how to rizz up Ippo

as manabu grows as a boxer he’ll really appreciate any amount of support from you

He showers you in kisses and hugs after every win asking for reassurance “y/n i did a great job? didn’t i? :33”

His biggest love languages are words of affirmation and gifts. He’d take so many selfies and candid pics of you. He loves showing you off “guys look at how pretty she is today hehe”

He’d be those people who post their s/o ALL the time on social media. The kamogawa guys love you, but please control your man. There is only so much jealousy they can take

N/SFW

He is mostly inexperienced in bed. Ippo goes red in the face when asked for tips. in the end manabu will just dive in and ask you to be patient with him

when you first get into the relationship, takamura teases manabu trying to teach him his special 'finishing' moves. you'll need to tell manabu to forget what he learned

manabu is a boob guy very easily. he spends a lot of time teasing and licking your nipples working you up. there's just something about the softness of your tiddies

he has accidentally ripped some of your lingerie in excitement oops, but don't worry he is overall very gentle <3

he isn't called the speed king for nothing ;) despite his inexperience his dick will pound you hard and fast

He is a switch fosho. Bro is a featherweight, he is meant to be picked up and thrown around a lil yknow

he uses his silly little phone cam to record his cock going in and out of you. he just loves the wet noises of your pussy that he needs it on his phone. dont worry he’ll put it in a hidden folder so no one else sees it

your pun,

admin sar

#hajime no ippo #hni x reader #itagaki manabu #itagaki manabu x reader #hajime no ippo x reader

[lowkeyclueless5137]

In the reverse brother haunting AU. How did Ortho cope with well, not being seen as human because of his robotic body. From Idia’s first year at NRC all the way to when Ortho finally accepted as a first year of night raven college where he finally accepted as one(Ps for a more light noted question, how did Ortho fully use his robotic body[possible the other gears too] to its fullest potential?)

Well... He doesn't cope that well...

At first it comes as a shock, since Ortho was used to Idia, his parents and the whole STIX just treating him like a normal being. Taking in account his suggestions and sometimes correcting him if he happens to say something wrong or not understand something. He was praised and nagged, just like Idia was. He is the spirit of a human in a metal body. He is bound to learn and make mistakes. He is a person first and foremost and that was acknowledged at home. His parents and Idia built him a body for the scope of being able to be seen, heard and interact with others.

Then it came NRC. Ortho went in along Idia since both were on par with the very similar level of knowledge. Ortho would try to do Idia's homework and learn just like his big brother. Of course, Ortho looked forward to making friends in here.

Then it came the shock that the others only see him as a robot. As an object that is only programmed to obey some strict orders. If he tried to show that he thought on his own, that he had his own emotions and everything else, the others would say that Idia had some talent in programming a robot. Idia himself was on Ortho's side, denying that he just used a very simple base program, mostly for the powering, joints articulations and special commands Ortho could use. He tried to insist that the others have to AT LEAST acknowledge Ortho as a person. Like just give him that. It's not that hard to at least say a hello or maybe just take in account that he would get upset or happy about certain things.

It ended up with the others thinking Idia was probably so lonely to the point he was delusional, while Ortho was just a very intricate AI. Ortho couldn't connect to other devices. He had to possess them and even then, it wasn't as if he was a technological cutting edge machine. He sometimes did mess up the folders or programs.

Weather Ortho had a less than calculated response to things, others would brush it off as being an error or a bug. And that was absolutely frustrating because they implies that something was wrong with him. That he is not supposed to act like that.

In response to that, Idia grew cold towards the rest. Like why should he be nice if the others can't give some basic acknowledgement towards his brother. Sure, he's a bit more different than your average kid, but at least acknowledge that he is someone. Can y'all stop being petty and prideful bastards for a bit?! What makes Idia feel worse about it is the fact that the others try to drag him out and socialise. He is simply refusing and becoming shut in, because he feels like the others do not deserve for him to do what they want if they cannot respect his and Ortho's wish to at least acknowledge the little Shroud.

Hence why, the STIX incident hits so hard for poor Ortho. His brother also had to go through the very same procedures once news of his overBlot were reported. Yet these bastards still are so entitled and mean. Not to mention they still do not acknowledge Ortho as a person in HIS OWN HOUSE. Like this is probably some basic decency at lest.

Oh this au is just pure unfiltered angst :'3

#twisted wonderland #asks :3 #Brother haunting au