#and below; to show how things feel a bit messy right now with the whole merged realms thing (un-neat lines and different textures)

[homestuckinthebutt]

"My love, return to me soon. I’ve begun to forget what you look like..."

Jaya is my favorite ship ever they're just so tragic<33

#ninjago #nya smith #nya jiang #ninjago dragons rising #i know yall are starving for more content so i hope you enjoy this #im kinda proud how the art style looks a bit different from above and below #to symbolize what she wishes she could experience again; clean #and below; to show how things feel a bit messy right now with the whole merged realms thing (un-neat lines and different textures) #ninjago fanart #for thise who cant tell the background is part of the kingdom of madness

[itsmealaiah]

Treating you right

TW: p in v sex, unprotected sex, sweet sex, tom buying reader items so she shows how much she loves him through intimacy, shopping, mentions of lingerie, fluff into smut

Request: hii love hru? can you do 2008tom x reader where reader brings tom to the mall and he buys her a lot of vs body sprays,lingeries and even juicy couture bag,after shopping they’re ending up doing yk…🤭 (i’m js so desperate to have vs body sprays and miss dior perfume😭)

Rating: 18+, mdni

WC: 1.8k

The sunlight streaming through the window woke you up, signaling another beautiful day. You stretched lazily, yawned, and sat up in bed, the soft sheets pooling around your waist. Today, you had decided to take your boyfriend, Tom, out on a little shopping spree. You had been wanting to visit the mall for quite some time now, and he'd never been there before. You imagined him being fascinated by all the shops, the people, and the lights. It was going to be a fun day, just the two of you.

You threw on a comfortable outfit, a pair of jeans and a tank top, and did your hair in a messy bun. Then, you headed downstairs to the kitchen to make some breakfast. As you cooked, you heard Tom stirring in his room. You called out to him, "Hey, sleepyhead! Rise and shine! It's time to get going!" His groggy voice responded, "Alright, I'm coming."

A few minutes later, he appeared in the kitchen, dressed in his usual casual attire of a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head, and then made his way over to the breakfast bar. "Morning, lovely," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. You smiled at him as you put a plate of pancakes in front of him. "I hope you're hungry," you teased. He shot you a playful glare but dug in nonetheless.

Once you had finished eating, you both gathered their things and headed out the door. It was a bright, sunny day, and the air was crisp and fresh. You held hands with Tom as you walked to the car, enjoying the feeling of his warm, solid presence beside you. The mall was only a short drive away, and you could already feel the excitement building up inside you.

The mall was even more breathtaking than you remembered. The glass ceiling allowed sunlight to filter in, casting a soft glow over the countless stores and people below. You led Tom to one of your favorite stores, where they sold your favorite brand of body spray. He had been saving up for a while now, just so he could buy you a whole bunch of different scents. "Pick out whichever ones you like, honey," he said, handing you the shopping basket. "I want you to have everything you want."

You were taken aback by his generosity, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through your chest. You chose several of your favorite scents, as well as some that you had been eyeing for a while. Once you had filled the basket, you turned to Tom and smiled. "This is too much. I can't accept all of this." He shrugged, his cheeks flushing slightly. "It's no trouble. I want you to be happy."

You continued shopping, moving from one store to the next. Tom was fascinated by everything, taking in the sights, the sounds, and even the smells of the mall. He particularly liked the lingerie section, where he insisted on picking out a few items for you. "I thought you might like these," he said, handing you a lacy bra and matching panties. You blushed deeply, feeling both shy and flattered. "Thank you, Tom. You really shouldn't have." He smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Eventually, you made your way to the final store on your list: a high-end boutique that sold Juicy Couture bags. You had been eyeing one of their signature velour tracksuits for a while now, and you knew Tom would love the bag that came with it. You hesitated for a moment before asking him, "Do you think you could… maybe… carry this for me?" He took the bag from you, his eyes widening in surprise. "Of course, babe. Anything for you." You bit your lip, feeling a wave of affection wash over you. He truly was the perfect boyfriend.

As you continued browsing the store, you found a pair of designer sunglasses that caught your eye. They were a bit pricey, but you knew they'd go perfectly with the new outfit you had in mind for your upcoming vacation. You turned to Tom and said, "Do you think you could…?" He cut you off with a knowing smile. "Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you want." His unwavering support and encouragement made your heart swell with happiness.

You ended up buying the tracksuit, the sunglasses, and a new pair of shoes that you had been eyeing for months. With everything in the bag, you turned to Tom, feeling a little guilty about spending so much money. "I can't believe I'm making you spend this much," you confessed, a small blush creeping up your cheeks. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head. "I love seeing you happy, baby. It's worth every penny." You sighed, feeling his words wash over you like a warm bath.

You spent the rest of the day window shopping and enjoying each other's company. Every now and then, Tom would stop you and ask what you thought of something, or if there was anything you wanted to try on. He was so attentive and considerate that it made your heart swell with love. As the sun began to set, you decided it was time to head home. You were both exhausted from all the walking and shopping, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and fulfillment.

On the drive home, you rested your head against Tom's shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent. He glanced over at you, a soft smile on his lips. "You know, you don't have to thank me for everything. I'm just happy to be here with you." You reached over and squeezed his hand. "Well, I am very thankful. You've made today so special." He blushed again and looked away, clearly not used to such praise. "Well, I'm glad. I just wanted to make you happy." You leaned in and kissed him, savoring the taste of his lips. As the car pulled into your driveway, you couldn't wait to get home and show him just how much you appreciated everything he'd done.

You practically skipped up to your front door, your arms overflowing with shopping bags. Tom followed behind you, chuckling at your excitement. Once you were inside, you set everything down on the kitchen counter and turned to face him, your heart racing. "Tom, there's something I want to do." He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I want to show you how much I appreciate everything you've done for me today." Without further ado, you led him by the hand into the bedroom and shut the door behind you.

Your heart was pounding as you turned to face him, your lips just inches from his. "You've been so amazing today," you whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "I want to show you how much I care about you." He leaned in, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss that quickly deepened. His hands ran through your hair, pulling you closer as your bodies pressed against each other. The tension between you was palpable, and you could feel the desire building within you both.

With each passing moment, your need for him grew more urgent. You unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his chest, smooth and warm beneath your fingers. He moaned softly as you explored him, his hands moving to your hips, urging you closer. You felt the heat of his breath on your neck as he nipped at your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't wait any longer; you needed to feel him inside you. You undid his pants and helped him out of them, revealing his arousal, already straining against his boxers.

You reached down and wrapped your hand around him, stroking him gently at first, then with more urgency as he moaned loudly, his hips bucking into your touch. "God, baby," he whispered hoarsely, "I want you." You smiled, pulling his boxers down to free him completely. He was already hard and ready for you, and you couldn't wait any longer. You knelt before him, taking him in your mouth, running your tongue along the length of him. He let out a groan so deep it vibrated through your body, his hands threading through your hair as he held you close.

You bobbed your head, sucking and licking him, feeling him grow harder and more demanding in your mouth. You could taste the saltiness of his skin, the sweetness of him, and it only made you want more. You glanced up at him as you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, feeling him grow even bigger, pushing against the back of your throat. His eyes were closed, his face flushed, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. You knew you were driving him wild, and it only made you want to please him more.

You stood up, positioning yourself over him, guiding him inside you. He groaned as he filled you, his hips pressing forward, driving himself deeper. You arched your back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, feeling the strength and power of him as he moved inside you. Your bodies moved together in perfect sync, their rhythm becoming faster and more urgent. He kissed you, his tongue dancing with yours, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you up and down on him.

As your orgasm built, you could feel your muscles tightening around him, pulling him deeper, and he responded with a growl, thrusting harder, faster. The sensation was almost too much to bear, but you wanted it, needed it. Your climax crashed over you in a wave of pure pleasure, your body shuddering with release as you cried out his name. He followed you over the edge, his thrusts becoming more frantic, his cries muffled against your neck.

As your breathing began to steady, you collapsed against him, feeling his weight and warmth envelop you. He held you close, kissing your neck and shoulders, his hands running up and down your back, soothing and comforting you. You couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and love wash over you as you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking. Tom had made today so special, and you knew that this was only the beginning of many more wonderful memories to come.

You felt his cock twitch inside you, and you smiled against his chest, knowing that he was still caught up in the moment. "Are you okay, baby?" you whispered, looking up at him. He met your gaze and smiled back, his brown eyes filled with love and desire. "I'm perfect," he replied, his voice rough with emotion. "I love you, you know that?" You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you nodded, wrapping your arms around him tighter. "I love you too, Tom."

Taglist: @madzandmore @20doozers @tomkaulitzloverr

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tokiohotel #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x y/n #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #itsmealaiah

[smellss]

Prodded - Sam kerr x singer!reader social media au!

summary: things are about to get a little messy sadly it happens on social media…

sorry this is a bit of a filler chapter i really don’t know where i’m taking this story or whether i should leave it… (any ideas pls appriciates)

liked by emmawatson, tylerblackburn and 560,789

florencepugh: seeing you tonight is a bad idea right

emmawatson: gorgeous

floscrockpot: lol is this about y/n? @baby/n

baby/n: this is a big fat mess

user678: wtf this is so gay coded drama

livsguts: the olivia lyrics as well omg

tylerblackburn: omg can we be friends

liked by samanthakerr20, masiepeters, zendaya and 660,744

y/noffical: my new single feather comes out on friday 💌💌💌

zendaya: girl it’s absolutely incredible congrats bby ❤️

y/noffical: thank you my love

baby/n: omg the lyrics “i feel so much lighter like a feather with you out my life” FLO IS SOBBING RN

floscrockpot: wtf is y/n playing at! messing with flo not okay

baby/n: how is she messing her up she’s moving on

likedbyy/noffical

masiepeters: MY BABY GIRL

samanthakerr20: yours?

kerrleftboot: samantha samantha

y/nbaby: what the fuck

mummy/n: they aren’t even hiding their gay ass ong

liked by y/noffical, tilliesfandom and 780,987

marieclaire: Our most beautiful Y/n L/n for our June cover after finishing off her Australasian Tour 🇦🇺. Click the link below to hear her interview sharing all the goss of love and being back home!

INTERVIEW WITH MARIE CLAIRE

Interviewer: Hello gorgeous y/n lovely to see you again, or should I say welcome home! How’s the first couple of days been?

Y/n: I never thought i would miss the mozzies and the heat so much! But no it’s been wonderful to be back, as much as I enjoy the time away I have all my special people here.

Interviewer: So Y/n you’ve had an absolutely fabulous tour its been incredible but i was wanting to get a bit deeper with you. Your new single “Feather” is incredible, can you tell us more about the process of writing it?

Y/n: Of course, as the whole internet know by this point I went through a pretty big break up at the beginning of last year. This song just talks about how I've felt through the process and how I' d moved on.

Interviewer: Now social media plays a big part of anyone’s life but especially yours and taylor swifts, you both are always doing sneaky little hints to things. Now this week there’s been some chatter about someone in your past doing the same anything you’d like to say about that

Y/n: All I will say is that I’m very happy at the moment and am not going back in time to any memories or people.

Interviewer: Excellent! Last question for you today Y/n, you’ve shown your support for our nations team the Matilda’s at a couple of games of the FWWC now. I didn’t realise you were such a big fan of the sport?

Y/n: I should have expected this question really (laughs), look i’ve always enjoyed the sport but a couple of the girls have supported me at my shows and it’s the least I can do to reciprocate. They are very special people to me.

Interviewer: Anyone particularly special? (interviewer smirks and winks)

Y/n: Mmmmh I’ll keep my eye towards the front of the pitch (y/n laughs and winks with the interviewer)

liked by yser567, gossipbunny, baby/n and 67,890

dailymailaus: Spotted! Y/n L/n kissing secret girl following the celebration of her Australian tour finishing at a nightclub in Perth. Many fans speculate it is Matilda’s captain Sam Kerr after the two have been interacting on social media and a recent interview L/n did with Marie Claire. Click the link to discover more! 📸🔥

baby/n: that interview was so sweet but this is JUICY

floscrockpot: girl flo is literally in aus rn this could be her

baby/n: babe you’re delusional did not see y/ns most recent interview DONE 👏

user678: I wish they would just confirm it omg

samsleftboot: it makes sense they would want to keep it quiet they are both super busy tn however they aren’t doing a very good job hiding it.

mummy/n: my two girlfriends happy as can be

#sam kerr imagine #sam kerr x reader #sam kerr fanction #fanfic #samantha kerr #social media au #wlw

[roseharpermaxwell]

RWRB FirstPrince Holiday Recs

Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's Eve - click below for my favorites.

I Don't Know About You, But I'm Feeling... by IBoatedHere. T, 794 words. Four birthdays in Alex's life.

kiss me, and tell me that i’ll see you again by fxckingeyelashes. T, 2k. “Forgive me if I’m being too forward, but are you into guys perhaps? I’d like to know if I have a chance.”

“A chance at what?” Alex raises his eyebrows. It’s only then that he notices the rainbow G A Y under Henry’s name.

“A chance to be your new year’s kiss.”

(you can start) a family who will always show you love by @waterloolovers. T, 2.1k. “Confetti eggs.”

“Cascarones, but yes,” Alex grins, “I’ll give you a pass since your Spanish is a bit tragic.”

“Rude.” Henry rolls his eyes fondly. “So you just… chase each other around and try to smash eggs on each other? Seems rather messy with confetti going everywhere.”

“It’s very messy, but that’s the fun part of it. It’s meant to bring good fortune for the rest of the year."

The Spirit of Giving by @cha-melodius. T, 2.3k. His practice tamales come out pretty damned good, if he says so himself, and the ones for the holiday party are going to be even better. Alex is confident now that there’s no way his won’t be the best dish a the whole potluck; he’s definitely going to win (and no, he doesn’t care that you can’t ‘win’ a potluck, June).

(1 million words challenge holiday edition, prompt: “My holiday dish is better than your holiday dish.”)

Speaking my Language by HMS_Chill. G, 2.3k. Prompt:

"Alex always saying sweet things to Henry in Spanish but won't tell him what any of it means, and he's always google translating them and awe-ing at how cute Alex is and then like maybe he learns how to say something adorable to and says it to Alex and Alex just like melts or something"

one of your girls. by seafloor. M, 2.4k. New Years Eve; three years later. An hour before midnight.

Santa, Tell Me by @harrysglasses. G, 2.5k. Henry receives a very special gift from his office Secret Santa and is determined to find out who it's from.

we play all day (and spread holiday cheer) by headabovethewater. E, 2.5k. Nora guffaws. “You fucked Santa’s Elf?!”

“I mean,” Alex pauses and shrugs, “not with the costume on, obviously.”

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Nora exclaims, her hands cupping her own face in disbelief. She looks over Alex’s shoulder and cocks an eyebrow, before she lowers her hands and her tone, and asks, “Since when do you have a thing for blondes?”

I'll Have a Flu Christmas by @three-drink-amy. G, 2.7k. Plans go awry when Alex comes down with the flu right before Christmas while Henry waits for him to fly over and meet him in England. Prepared to spend Christmas sick and alone, Alex doesn't expect Henry to take matters into his own hands.

i think i'm falling for you by WaterlooLovers. T, 2.8k. Henry blinks at the man. He’s thankful the rink is fairly dark, only disco lights and black lights surrounding them, so the man can’t see the blush on his cheeks. The man is gorgeous, and still holding his waist, and Henry might be hallucinating. Maybe he did crack his skull on the hard rink floor. “Um.”

Trick or Kiss by ronans. NR, 2.9k. Henry’s been here for ten minutes and he’s already causing Alex to feel some feelings. He supposes Henry has made him a bit scared with his costume, but not in the god given Halloween way he should.

Or, Alex is throwing the Halloween party of the year and can't quite figure out why the Prince of England is haunting his every thought.

May Your New Years Dreams Come True by chamel. T, 3.1k. “In fact, I’d wager money my date will by far be the hottest there.”

Hunter scoffs, which honestly Henry doesn’t understand. It’s not like Alex hasn’t pulled in some real lookers to previous years’ parties, much to Henry’s chagrin. “Really? You want to bet?”

Alex shrugs. “Sure.”

“Henry,” Hunter says suddenly, finally—and unfortunately—acknowledging that he’s actually been standing there the whole time. “You want in on this?”

(1 million words challenge holiday edition, prompt: "Competition to see who can bring the hottest date to the New Year’s party")

you and me, forevermore by @theprinceandagcd. T, 3.1k. "He pushes up on his toes to kiss Henry, who returns the kiss immediately, greedily, tongue brushing against his in a way that makes Alex's brain short circuit just as much as it did a year ago.

A year ago.

It still does something to him, stirs something deep inside him that makes his entire body feel like pure mush. It's a memory burned so bright in his mind - cold air, a buzz in his veins, a tree in a quiet garden, fingers gripping his face, soft lips against his.

The night his world turned on its axis and shifted toward Henry, altering his path and forever tilting him closer."

Or, Alex and Henry on New Year's Eve, one year after their first, and Alex wants it to be special.

don't let me get drunk again by @getmehighonmagic. E, 3.1k. Alex had never wanted to cancel plans as much as he had while watching Henry pull a pair of light wash, tight jeans over his stockinged legs and bare ass.

Christ, he’s getting hard thinking about it now.

Merry Christmas, Darling by lucy_in_the_sky. E, 3.2k. Alex and Henry's first Christmas together as a couple. Just some good ol' fashioned Christmas smut

Wherever you are, as ever I remain by gallifreyandglowclouds. M, 3.4k. 'It’s transparently a lie, and he shouldn’t lie to Alex, but he can’t help it in the moment. He so badly wants everything to just be fine, to love this new life without a foot stuck in the old one.'

Henry can't help but feel a little homesick during his first Christmas in Brooklyn.

stars by the pocketful by weather_stained. T, 3.7k. Henry is having a terrible Halloween, so terrible that he completely forgets it even is Halloween until Alex shows up at his door asking to borrow a prop for June's costume.

Though Henry opts out of June's Halloween party, Alex makes sure he doesn't spend the holiday alone.

Call It Even by @smc-27. T, 3.7k. Alex shrugs. “I’ll go with you.”

Terrible, terrible, no good idea.

Too bad his mouth works faster than his brain. Which is…another thing he wishes to not think about. His mouth, and Alex, and all the things he could do to that man.

“All right.”

Fuck.

(aka: henry needs a +1 for a holiday party. his roommate offers.)

Help Yourself to Happiness by ronans. NR, 3.8k. ‘So you’re taking the post down, I assume? Now we’re both sober and in control of our impulses?’

Pez barks a laugh. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘I know we discussed the very real possibility that I would cry myself into oblivion without you here singing horrendously off key Christmas carols, but… isn’t this a little… desperate?’

‘I’m willing to see where this will take us, aren’t you?’ Pez asks, raising an eyebrow.

‘Says the man who would be safely out of the country after setting his best friend up with a potential murderer.’

Pez levels him with a look and then picks up Henry’s phone. ‘How many polos did he play?’ Pez turns the screen around so Henry can see the comment. ‘Does that sound like a person with murderous tendencies?’

Henry snatches the phone back. ‘This is a terrible idea.’

Or, A drunken night leads to Pez posting on Reddit, calling on any singles in the area to help Henry be a little less lonely this Christmas.

I'm not gay, but my apparel is by @clottedcreamfudge. T, 4.5k. “I’m not a salesman,” Alex points out, coming out from behind the counter and rolling up his sleeves. “I’m a purveyor of oddities, curiosities, and intrigue.”

“Yes, I saw your sign.”

“And now here we are,” Alex says, gesturing grandly and expansively to the space around him.

“Here we are,” the man says softly, then pulls one hand out of his coat pocket and holds it out to Alex. “Henry Fox-Mountchristen. I would like to purchase an oddity, curiosity, or an item of intrigue.”

you bring blue lights to dreams by headabovethewater. E, 4.5k. When Alex pulls him a bit closer and kisses him again, he thinks he sees a flash of blue peek through the opening in Henry’s shirt, but he ignores the thrill that travels down his spine and shrugs it off. Wishful thinking, he’s sure.

Or, Henry surprises Alex as they celebrate New Year's Eve together.

baby, be mine by strwbrryfox. T, 4.8k. five times alex asks henry to be his valentine and one time henry beats him to it ♥️

many times, many ways by @littlemisskittentoes. M, 4.8k. The thing is, Alex knows he can’t replace the bittersweet wave of memories that swarm Henry’s head at the sight of snow flurries and smell of peppermint in the air. He doesn’t want to. He wants Henry to keep those close, even if it is through the sepia tone of melancholy.

But Alex can’t help but wonder if maybe he can find a way to balance poignancy with something a bit easier. Something a little bit lighter. Something Henry can revisit to understand where he belongs, how he fits into the “happy” of it all any time he needs.

He looks over to Henry, finally asleep against his chest. He takes in the gentle slope of Henry’s nose, the fluttered fan of eyelashes against moon-bathed cheeks. He fixates on the subtle canyon, the soft part of Henry’s lips, the phantom wind of a silent snore, and Alex knows: the very least he can do is try.

or, holidays have always come as a reminder to Henry of what he’s lost. But Alex always manages to remind him of everything he’s gained too.

Ink it in on my skin, sign me up, make it last against the time by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf. E, 5.2k. “Okay, then,” Alex says, and Henry can’t help but smile at the hint of mischief creeping into his voice, “there’s two weeks until Valentine’s Day. We each have that long to make it happen, and we’ll do a big reveal that night. Deal?” Flecks of gold are shimmering in his copper eyes. Henry leans forward, catching Alex’s lips to seal their accord.

“Agreed.”

OR

Alex and Henry both decide to get tattoos.

I must tell you what you will not ask by @lizzie-bennetdarcy. E, 5.3k. Henry's plans for Christmas fall through, so Alex invites him home for the holidays. They're best friends, strictly platonic roommates, so why does everyone think they're dating?

Have you ever been alone in a crowded room? by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf. T, 5.4k. When the Legendary Balls-Out Bananas White House Trio New Year's Eve Party is interrupted by a security threat, Henry, Pez, Nora, June, and Alex find themselves locked in the White House library for their own protection with nothing but time, a few bottles of champagne, and some lighthearted conversation, until a single question threatens to change everything for Henry.

You and Me, Forevermore by milowren. NR, 5.6k. When Henry gets sick a few days after Christmas, he and Alex end up celebrating New Year's together in a different way than they planned.

where every wish comes true by @hypnostheory. E, 6k. “Locked out?”

“I forgot my keys,” Alex says with a sigh, leaning against his door with a muted shiver. He was planning on a heated Uber ride to June’s apartment, not standing out in the cold ass hallway. Alex hugs his coat closer to his chest. “My friend has my spare.”

Henry nods, leaning against his own door frame. Alex isn’t sure what the man does outside of going to grad school at NYU, but it must be bench-pressing horses based on the size of his biceps. Henry reaches up to push his glasses higher on his nose and Alex swears he wasn’t that bisexual when the day started. “Would you like to wait in my apartment for your friend?”

Alex gets locked out his apartment on Christmas Eve. He's forced to take refuge in his neighbor and occasional fuck buddy Henry's apartment, and together the two get into the Christmas spirit with the help of a festive costume and a silk ribbon.

The Honeymoon Suite by clottedcreamfudge. E, 6.1k. Henry's plane is grounded, which is absolutely fine, and not at all the worst possible outcome on Christmas Eve when he should already be on his way to London. Alex's plane is also grounded, but fortunately for his leggy British co-worker, he's a generous soul who's happy to share the room he managed to bag at a local hotel while they wait for their new flights.

So, so generous.

Baby, it's Halloween and we can be anything by sheisraging. E, 6.3k. Alex is furious. More furious than he should be about the whole thing, but still. Plans were made. Money was spent. Costumes were purchased—not even rented—purchased!

it's in the stars, it's who we are by @indomitable-love. E, 6.4k. 'Henry pulls back with wide, startled eyes, releases him roughly and staggers backwards. He lets out a mumbled curse and turns on his heel, and Alex has just enough of something still firing in his brain to reach out and catch Henry’s wrist. Just enough awareness of the fact that Henry is about to run, to say, ‘No, wait,’ before he can disappear through the snow.'

or, the AU where Henry doesn't run after the New Year's Eve kiss.

Re: Inappropriate Festive Party Conduct [Sent with High Importance!] by @largepeachicedtea. E, 6.5k.

Alex has changed his suit into something soft-looking and appropriately red, though the white shirt with the holly pin is still there, now accompanied by a trail of sparkly tinsel around his neck like a festive scarf. He’s holding a whiskey glass in one hand, leaning into something Nora is saying, and looks positively lethal. “Christ,” Henry mutters through a gulp of cider. “He looks good,” Pez agrees through a cheshire grin. “He always looks good,” Henry says. “Right now, he looks–” “Henry! Pez!” “Fuck.” “Alexander!” Pez hollers. “Babes!”

—

An office holiday party AU where Alex and Henry ignore the first rule of corporate festivities: Don't hook up with your coworker.

Ho for the Holidays by @whimsymanaged. E, 6.8k. “Listen, don’t worry about this,” Henry says quickly, already mentally crafting the passive-aggressive text he’s going to send Pez. “Better luck next year. I’ll just be off—“

“Hold your damn horses.” Alex stops Henry with a fast, surprisingly gentle hand to his wrist. His eyebrows furrow. “What did you put on your questionnaire?”

Henry’s ears go hot. “That’s none of your business.”

Alex scoffs and leans in closer. “Baby, we matched. It’s safe to say we have at least some interests in common. Be honest—was it because you confessed to having a secret desire to slap me?”

Or, Pez organizes an event called Ho for the Holidays, and these two idiots get paired up.

all my time is yours to spend by smc_27. T, 6.8k. Any way you look at it, Bea is not meant to be here, and if it were just the lights, he’d assume she forgot to turn them off. The fire burning is another thing entirely. The weather has been dreadful, and perhaps her flight was canceled. Surely, she’d have told him as much.

He should investigate.

Waffles & Conversation by clottedcreamfudge. E, 7k. “I’m fine, I swear. I just need to give it a proper clean and I’ll be fine.”

Ellen isn’t convinced. “Okay, but you’re letting Henry look at it later.”

Alex grits his teeth for what must be the thousandth time today and tries to keep his voice level. “No, I’m not. He’s a vet, mom.”

“And he’s the closest thing to a doctor we have coming tonight,” she says firmly, letting him take his hand back and raising her eyebrows at him. “It’s that or the ER, honey. Your choice.”

You're the Perfect Gift for Me by @cha-melodius. T, 7.2k. “Twenty-one-year-old Scotch,” the man says with a low whistle, looking more impressed than anything else. “Special occasion or just expensive taste?”

Alex can’t stop his grimace. “Came up here to propose,” he says, even though this random stranger doesn’t need to hear his woes. “Found out my girlfriend’s getting back together with her high school sweetheart.”

“Ouch,” the man replies, the word sounding slightly absurd in his rounded, posh accent. He looks at the bartender. “Leave the bottle.”

(Dumped two days before Christmas by his girlfriend, Alex meets a British writer who's spending Christmas on his own in generic Tiny Town, USA, and together they discover something new to celebrate.)

Snowed In? Snow Problem by @rmd-writes. E, 7.3k. The challenge: to write a fun college AU for the queen of college AUs (though she’ll probably be mad at me for saying so). Bonus points for also including the only one bed and getting caught doing something sus tropes.

The result: hopefully all of the above, plus they’re snowed in for the holidays.

AKA Henry and Alex get snowed in at their dorm for the holidays, whatever will they do?

It's Not Thanksgiving Without the Turkeys by allmylovesatonce. M, 7.5k. Thanksgiving 2020, Alex invites Henry to join the Claremont-Diaz family for Thanksgiving. More than anything, they're excited for another excuse to be together.

(Valen)Tie Me Up by @happinessofthepursuit. E, 7.7k. “Well, I actually made your gift at one of Pez’s workshops, though I’m sure they would’ve gotten it out of me anyway,” Henry says, voice fond.

Alex’s mind is whirring, going through the monthly calendars from Seize the Play. Pez leads classes multiple times a week, but there’s only a few that Henry could’ve attended, and one in particular that would explain his own gift…

“Which one?” Alex asks.

“I think that’ll immediately be clear.”

Or, Alex and Henry exchange gifts for their first Valentine’s together—then proceed to use them.

you make it look so easy, i know it's not by @anincompletelist. T, 7.9k. Bea’s to his left, speaking frantically on the phone with who Henry hopes is the fire brigade or someone else trained to deal with these— situations. In front of him, Pez is fumbling frustratedly with the water hose, showcasing his colorful vocabulary with a flourish of jerky hand movements and chaotic pacing. On either side of the fence, his neighbors are peaking over the sides to ask if everything’s okay, and Henry feels the resolution to make a good first impression crumbling and slipping rapidly out of his grasp. Even David watches on from inside the house, his sage eyes and patriotic bowtie appraising the scene and looking back to Henry as if to say I told you so.

And the fryer — the fryer itself is up in flames, thick gray smoke swirling up into the air and soaring high above the tree line now. In the distance, the echo of sirens. Henry may faint right here, in the middle of his backyard at his new home before he's even unpacked, with all the neighbors and his family and friends watching on, on his first official American Thanksgiving. It is, by all means, not what he’d envisioned for the day.

everything ever written about love by greenandmoss. E, 8.4k.

“Bet you’re glad you knocked on this door.”

“I am, actually.” Smiles should not be this disarming. It’s disconcerting.

It’s like they’re in a movie, where all the lines are pre-written, and the smiles and the looks all mean something. The couple are scripted to catch eyes, and fall in love with each other the second their lips touch. But that’s fucking ridiculous. Henry sits there like some kind of James-Bond-Jude-Law heartthrob, and Alex’s life is not a movie. This is not how real life plays out.

Or: The Holiday au but it's just that one scene where Cameron Diaz meets Jude Law

Save a Horse, Ride a Princess by @affectionatelyrs. E, 8.6k. “I have to say, this is all quite literal, don’t you think?”

Alex wouldn’t know literal right now if it hit him in the head. “Huh?”

Henry points at Alex: “Pillow Princess,” and then to himself: “Cowboy. Ready to ride and all that.”

Alex nods dumbly. “Right.”

Or, Alex and Henry dress up as the ultimate couples costume for Halloween — themselves — and they both feel some kind of way about it

the world watched (and the world smiled) by fangirl6202. M, 9.1k. "Oh,” Alex says finally, faintly, touching one hand to his lips. Then: “Shit.” 

His mind catches up then, realizing that Henry is walking away and he doesn't even think twice. He begins to quite literally chase after him, trying to get to him before he can get away or, God forbid, try to fly back to England and ghost him. 

Henry is very pointedly not looking at him, stuttering apology over apology until Alex has to quite literally throw himself in front of him to get him to stop. Alex doesn’t know what to do. But the answer is simple, isn’t it? So fucking simple.

 

He takes Prince Fucking Charming’s lapels into his hand and kisses him back. 

Or; it's New Years, and Henry stays.

more than you could ever know by indomitablelove. T, 9.5k. He watches Alex’s bright smile as he talks to Bea and Leo, the way that Ellen and Catherine have their heads bent close together and how Nora is talking with Pez, Oscar and June. He feels something catch in his throat, something blooming in his chest with such strength that it threatens to burst its way out. He never, in a million years, thought he would have this.

this year i will fall by @rmd-writes. E, 9.8k. Henry has many regrets in his life, but leaving the ice rink after a literal run in with the potential love of his life without even obtaining his name may be his biggest. With his family visiting for the holidays for the first time and ever-present work deadlines looming, he's too busy to think about how to engineer his own happy ending worthy of the novels he edits.

But what if fate has other ideas?

Ye Merry Gentlemen by allmylovesatonce. M, 9.9k. Across three different years, at different points in their lives, Alex and Henry celebrate Christmas together.

On My Mind (Let's Go) by @sparklepocalypse. E, 10k. Pez blows into his hands and rubs them together to warm them. “Listen. Just… whatever happens in there, say yes, alright?”

“I don’t follow,” Henry says, his brow furrowing. “Say yes to what?”

“Whatever opportunity comes knocking,” Pez says breezily. “You forget, I’ve seen your messages. The booze is flowing tonight, and everyone’s got their best fit on – so opportunity will knock, and you will say yes.”

(A movieverse New Year's Eve fix-it that started as crack and turned into crack taken seriously. With dancing. And smut. Like... a lot of smut.)

Someone Special by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 10k. "That was Shaan," Henry explains as Alex snuggles closer to him, pressing his nose to his neck. "The blizzard hit early, apparently. Too risky to fly."

"So Christmas here?" Alex says in that sleepy drawl of his that Henry will never get tired of. "Fuckin' sweet."

Happy NY by @myheartalivewrites. E, 11k. “Hi,” he says, and Henry looks into his eyes, taking in the brown colour and little flecks of black and gold that give it depth; the tiny freckles dotted across his nose and cheekbones, only a shade or two darker than his deep bronze skin. “Uh, sorry about that,” the man says, but he doesn’t step out of Henry’s arms. Instead his eyebrows go up, and his expression changes, from one of embarrassment to something Henry thinks is surprise, and maybe, ever so hopefully, a little bit of interest.

would you wait for me? by smc_27. T, 11k. Henry Fox has made Alex nervous from the second they met.

Now it’s different. Now Alex has to try and find a shirt to wear to a party where he’ll inevitably see Henry for the first time in a year. For the first time since Alex’s heart was broken and he’d made what felt like the brave and smart decision and left.

Coming back might be a mistake.

Gonna Give You Something (So You Know What’s on My Mind) by @affectionatelyrs. E, 11k. Alex hums, turning around to pull open the freezer drawer. “You want anything?”

But Henry barely registers his question. Not when Alex is slightly bent over, allowing Henry a perfect view of his perfect ass. Each individual ridge of his spine is visible due to his lack of shirt. All of these things combined would normally be a large enough issue in itself to render Henry dumbstruck, except—

Except, that’s not the only thing that Henry’s faced with.

Right there, clear as day: blue lace, delicately peeking out from the waistband of his joggers. Henry’s hand immediately flies up to his cheek. The skin is hot to the touch, and he feels the imprint of where the material once lay like a brand.

Or, With the help of a white elephant gift, Henry learns that maybe the whole being-in-love-with-his-roommate thing isn’t as one-sided as he thought

Love and Hate at the Farmers' Market by myheartalive. T, 11k. Alex and Henry both work at a farmers' market and they hate each other, until suddenly— oops! They don't!

(Secret) Santa Baby by @indomitable-love. E, 11k. "When it comes to Secret Santa, Alex really does have a reputation to uphold. Everybody wants Alex to get them. Nobody actually wants to get Alex, which is why he usually ends up with novelty socks or a political biography, but he doesn’t care. Ultimately, everybody wants Alex to get their name. And right now, Alex is seconds away from finding out who his new mark is. The person that he’s going to spend the next few weeks learning inside and out to ensure that he gets them the perfect gift."

Alex gets his work nemesis, Henry, in the office Secret Santa and realises that he doesn't know nearly as much about him as he thought...

Trim my Christmas tree by @clottedcreamfudge. E, 12k. Henry is a writer, not a mall Santa, but unfortunately this year - thanks to his adorable and conniving nieces and their Aunt Beatrice - he's going to have to be both. This doesn't leave him a great deal of time to pine horribly over the part-time bookseller and Law student over at June Claremont-Diaz's shop, but somehow he manages to jam it in anyway.

Ho ho ho.

i'll be home for christmas by @dumbpeachjuice. M, 12k. He books a tiny cottage in a village called Little Snoring (not to be confused with the nearby Great Snoring) somewhere in Norfolk and tries to tell himself Christmas by himself in a foreign country is going to be an adventure from which he will have an adorable story to tell his friends and family, and not just totally depressing. At the very least he can take a cute picture of his snowy cottage and pretend he’s not totally fucking jealous of his entire family gathering in Austin without him.

If he ever fucking gets there, that is.

Or, Alex's first Christmas in the UK gets ruined by the British weather. A handsome stranger invites him to spend the holiday with his family instead.

The Holiday by @dracowillhearaboutthis. E, 13k. Henry is in no mood to attend his family's holiday gathering this year. So when June Claremont-Diaz asks him via a Home Swap website whether or not his house is free over the holidays, he jumps at the opportunity to escape the country and his family for the holidays.

He did not include Alex into the calculation - June's charming and gorgeous brother who suddenly appears at her doorstep.

Airplane Mode by clottedcreamfudge. E, 14k. Getting into an argument with someone in the airport lounge had probably been a mistake, in hindsight; Alex knows this. But with so many fucking delays and the fact that the signal on his phone is currently making it about as useful as two paper cups joined by a piece of string, he’s kind of on-edge. It’s not entirely his fault that he snaps.

Attractive people with perfect hair who take the last almond croissant before Alex can get to it probably just need to understand this. Alex is at the end of his tether, and he will not be swayed by, “Well, I was here first,” in a British accent so smooth it could butter bread.

Home for the Holidays by lucy_in_the_sky. E, 14k. “How would you feel about maybe spending Christmas in Texas with me and my family?” He bites his lip after popping the question.

Henry’s eyebrows shoot up. But before Alex can regret asking, a soft smile blossoms on his face.

“I want you there with me. I- I wanted you there this week, too-” Alex starts to ramble. “And, like, it’s totally ok if you want to go to England to be with your family, duh, but I’d love to show you Austin and introduce you to my family and teach you the Claremont-Diaz holiday traditions and kiss you on Christmas morning and-”

He’s cut off by the hard press of Henry’s lips against his own.

“Yeah?” Alex beams.

“Yes, love. Of course yes.”

Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon by @villiageidiot. T, 14k. He falls asleep on the loveseat, Nora and June curled up on the couch across from him, as a terrible Hallmark Christmas film plays in the background. It’s the fourth night of sleeping alone—Henry taking care of some business back in the palace—and he’d rather wake up cold and cramped across from the two of them than alone in his own bed.

That’s how Alex falls asleep.

That is not how he wakes up.

A Fine Line by indomitablelove. E, 15k. Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Whatever is inescapable. In the worst way possible. He’s always fucking there. Alex turns up for his shift and Henry is there behind the coffee machine, apron tied around his waist and stupid, tight white T-shirt clinging to his biceps. Alex turns up for open-mic night at the cafe and there he is again, reading his fucking poetry. Alex goes to the grocery store, or the bookshop, or the fucking campus library, and who does he see? Henry. Always Henry.

Always Henry, always with a different guy.

Alex hates Henry. He's only letting Henry and his stupid long limbs and his overly symmetrical face stay on his couch because he has to, because 'tis the season not to be a massive dick, because it's Christmas. Isn't he? -also coffee shop/roommates

12 Days of Christmas with Alex and Henry series by @coffeecatsme. E, 16k. "It seems I've gotten myself in quite a tangle."

"Tangle?" Henry's voice is hoarse, eyes darkened as they travel over Alex's body. They stop at his crotch, and Alex can see it even under the dim lights—Henry's growing hard too, a visible bulge pushing at his sweatpants. Alex's cock gives a desperate twitch.

"Y'know, I was trying to put them around the tree," he starts, gesturing at the plain tree at the corner. It's clear he didn't even attempt to touch it. "And somehow I've managed to completely trap myself. Can't even move my hands." Henry makes a desperate noise at the back of his throat as his eyes snap up to Alex's face. Alex flashes him a suggestive grin, teeth biting down on his lip. "Seems I'm completely at your mercy."

(Dil)Do It Yourself by @happiness-of-the-pursuit. E, 16k. “Listen,” Nora starts, turning her body once more so that she’s sitting sideways in the chair with her legs thrown across the armrest. “I did the math. There’s a 79% chance you’re gonna become a slut to the power of the prostate, and while we’re not dating anymore, it’s my duty as your fellow slutty bisexual to get this party started.”

Or, when Nora drags Alex to a holiday dildo workshop, he doesn’t expect to find someone to use it with.

Spirit of the Season by @pridepages. M, 17k. Henry was dead to begin with. That much you must understand, or nothing that follows will seem strange or wondrous...

Alex Claremont-Diaz doesn't believe in ghosts. And he really hates Dickens.

But that's not going to stop a very unusual Christmas Spirit...

Henry Fox is on a mission. Once a year, he finds a soul in need of his help. (Too bad this one's such an utter berk.)

When two lost souls find each other on Christmas Eve, they may just find everything they never knew they wanted.

The Christmas Guest by @omgcmere. E, 17k. Alex is looking forward to a relaxing winter break catching up with his sister after her semester abroad, but June's gone and ruined everything by inviting her insufferable international student friend to stay with their family for a real American Christmas experience. Henry is irritatingly gorgeous with a completely obnoxious superiority complex, and Alex is prepared to hate every single second he's forced to spend in his presence. As Alex starts to get into the Christmas spirit, however, he finds that maybe there's more to Henry than meets the eye - and maybe, just maybe, this will actually be the best Christmas ever. - also college

Four Christmases by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf. E, 19k. From Washington to Austin, London to New York, Alex and Henry spend Christmas with different members of their families from 2020 - 2023. Funny couples' Christmas sweaters, festive swimsuits, statement-making ties, and family pajamas all bring lots of laughs, some tears, and a bit of fun to be had by all along the way.

A Year in the Life series by milowren. NR, 19k. Alex and Henry are coworkers, Henry has a crush, and they end up at a haunted corn maze together a few nights before Halloween. Shenanigans ensue! And - When Alex's flight home is canceled at the last minute, Henry invites him over for Thanksgiving - despite never having hosted an American Thanksgiving before.

and you would be there too by smc_27. M, 20k. It’s mostly dark out here, just the lamp poles in the parking lot casting a warm yellow glow across the packed snow.

“We’re closed.”

Henry spins around, heart racing, and sees the beautiful man from the café and from earlier at the shops. He cuts a stunning image, swinging one leg over the wooden fence rail and stepping into the parking lot as he pulls a red and black plaid shirt over his shoulders, his tan pants tight enough across his thighs to make Henry blush for noticing.

This Hell of a Season by Chamel. E, 21k. (Nova, Baby follow-up) “The first few years, it was a relief to get away from all the stupid family drama,” Alex says, blowing a long sigh. The hand that’s not holding Henry’s slides onto his stomach, a warm, comforting pressure. “Then I started to resent it. It hurt to be stuck out on a mission while everyone celebrated without me.”

“And now?”

A grin slips onto Alex’s face as he walks two fingers across Henry’s bare chest. “Now I have you.”

(Or, 3 times Alex & Henry spent Christmas on missions and 1 when they didn't; or, A Very Nova Christmas Special.

Love on the Menu by berrybluefae. M, 23k. Henry Fox has a side hustle at his job as a host in an upscale restaurant. He loves setting up romantic moments for guests who want a little something extra for their night out to dinner. A bouquet of flowers and a bottle of champagne for the couple celebrating their 50th anniversary? Easy. A special table with candles and a dessert with a surprise for the woman about to propose? Child’s play. But despite playing Cupid for the restaurant’s guests, Henry has never been on the receiving end of a grand romantic gesture. So imagine his surprised delight when anonymous gifts begin appearing just for him.

Who is Henry’s secret admirer? Only Valentine’s Day will tell.

You Make Every Day Feel Like It's Christmas by allmylovesatonce. T, 25k. Burned out on work, Alex goes to visit June who is on assignment in a sleepy Vermont town called Snow's Landing. June is determined for him to see where she's been living for the last six months and to love it as much as she does. The most intriguing part of it all is June's best friend there, a man named Henry, that Alex believed was a jerk at first but is starting to discover a new side of as they spend more time together.

Paper Chains by @myheartalivewrites. E, 25k.

DAY 751

(Alex)

Henry is… Well, if Alex is being honest, Henry is everything to him.

But it’s kinda hard to explain.

DAY 1

.

.

.

———

I have no idea how to summarise this one, folks. The best I can do is… Alex and Henry's journey from awkward beginning as colleagues, to best friends, to spending time apart and finally to finding each other again.

But it’s not as straightforward as that.

Every Day's a Holiday (When I'm Near to You) by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 29k. I know this is a long shot, but if anyone’s going to Texas/anywhere south for the holidays and is crazy enough to drive there instead of fly, I’m looking for a road trip buddy. We can split gas money and snacks if you pick good ones. DM me if you’re interested.

And Henry knows he's about the make the most idiotic decision he's ever made in his life.

Or, Henry impulsively tags along with Alex on a road trip to Texas with absolutely no plan. Surely this won't backfire.

in a holidaze by @tedddylupin. E, 49k. Alex didn't mean to spend his New Years Eve thrown together with a perfect stranger at an airport. He didn't mean to offer up to share his hotel room with a very attractive stranger. He also didn't mean to find the man insufferably perfect either.

Or: the one where Alex and Henry find each other during different holidays throughout a year's time.

When I think about you by @clottedcreamfudge. E, 50k. Dream sharing is absolutely not a thing, even though Alex would very much like it to be.

The magic of soulmates, however, means that someone you’ve never met – someone whose soul is tied to yours, in whatever way that manifests – can appear in your dreams, like an extra character who keeps popping up over and over again. They won’t be having the same dream as you, and you won’t actually meet, but whatever you remember from the dream can start to take shape in your waking hours; you can figure things out, bit by bit, dream by dream.

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

#firstprince #rwrb fic recs #rwrb #alex x henry #red white & royal blue

[nymphlamp]

Blossom Dearie

The night Carmen attempts to open up about his feelings. Loosely connected to sink in (x) Slow burn soft smut, so heavy on the 18+ (fingering, dry humping, swearing etc.etc.). This was written with a black reader in mind (of course anyone is welcome to read). 7k+ words. Gif credit (x).

Carmen has the teary-eyed stare of a wounded stray – lost, pathetic, needy. Achingly soft. Lonely, and you want to approach. Months pass and he reminds you fairly quickly that he possesses the bite of one too. The untamable, sharp-jawed snarling fostered from starvation kind of bite. Once he’s threatened, he retreats. He lunges if he has to, and it’s all just a little bit confusing, deciphering when or how or why, or which is worse.

He stops by the exit doors, shifting his weight from side to side. The kitchen casts a halo of light that carves him out from shadow. Husked from golden-hued soft edges the closer he gets, the door creaks to a close.

You’re crouched and toying with a stray thread. Heavy head stuffed, gurgling thoughts and muddied feelings shoot up like abandoned toys in murky water. You’re not sure how much time passed since leaving the kitchen. You measure the beats of awkward silence under each passing car. Not many come at this time of night. You lift your eyes to look – he’s six cars in and waiting for an open hand, outstretched. An invitation to near. You look down again.

He clears his throat. “Hey, uh…”

Carmen’s utterances sometimes sound more like questions he doesn’t know how to ask. How delighted you’d be if you had a chance, you’d punt them directly into the sewer streams, send them tumbling down with the rest of him. 

“Fuckin’ shit show,” he huffs a quick laugh, a phony little thing, rusted and crumbling. He examines the way his words bounce off of your expressions, how they trickle down a sullen face – sarcasm coats the first one, annoyance consumes them all – before approaching. 

Gravel crunches beneath his feet. You show your broiling discontent with a shake of your head— do not near, but even then does porcelain on your molars gleams far too pretty for that, and it fails to ward him off. 

“‘t’s not an excuse for how I acted today.” Crouches next to you with a crumpled cigarette box between his palms. It resembles a plea, collapsed and gentle. A faint cry for mercy threads his fingers together. Carmy’s soft murmur is saturated in candlelight and all things sickly sweet through the lattice openings. “That wasn’t right, what I did. How I talked to you. I know. I was out of line, and I’m sorry for that. I’m so sorry for all of it. I just… fuck.”

He’s looking up, away, shaking his head. He’s shrouded in lilac, soft hyacinths and fragrant flowering sorrow. There are fields he’s left untended. Budding crops and places in his mind he doesn’t dare till for fear of what grows. You became one when he lost track of time, overgrown between then and now (he doesn’t know where to start or how it even got to this point, it’s all been a blur since he picked up the knife). Regret crowds his thoughts like feeble monarch wings, black-lined half-hearts fluttering. You look at him, and they disperse. 

“You embarrassed me today. In front of everyone, Carmen.” Traced the lines of his face down to his lips. Separating yourself from Carmen was self-preservation. “I mean, what you did, that was fucked. Below the belt.” 

Another pang of guilt strikes his heavy heart again. He nods at the ground. After a moment he opens his mouth, “You’re right.”

Arguments in the kitchen are caught as easily as the common cold. Unavoidable and sticky no matter how clean you keep your station, messy despite the distance maintained between you and the next person. Anything can ignite the most repugnant reactions; an attitude, an inflated demand, a sideways glance can travel like a nasty wet sneeze across the room and set the whole place alight.

What happened between you and Carmen – that wasn’t the first argument, but it always did feel like the last:

Chef, please. You have to move faster.

Two hands, Carmen.

Chef?

I have two hands and we’re a man down, and you just told me to handle Tina’s station. 

“I embarrassed you.” Clutches to each word you hurl and places them neatly before the both of you. Carmen wanted to examine the misspellings, the details unvarnished. Rewrite where it all went wrong. “I raised my voice when I should’ve stepped away.”

If I ask you to get something done, I expect it done. Quickly. Let’s go! No excuses. (The truth behind this rested beneath his relentless barking, his high expectations took the shape of moody fits and harsh and unforeseen criticisms that bore the weight of all the things he’s left unsaid. It was brutally exhausting)

Maybe it’ll get done faster when you’re not over my fucking shoulder—

Chef. Do I make myself clear? 

(Sharp metal cuts the silence that follows)

Do I make myself clear?

Yes. Chef.

Get it done.

Seconds and hours and knives and feelings all start to look the same, overcooked to charred under the pressures of the kitchen. Past billows of smoke, demands get higher, and days, unfortunately, get shorter. Temperaments roil on endlessly. You’ll slow cook until you burn in there.

What are you doing?

Getting it done.

(He says your name, you do not look, he repeats it, and the clamp of your handle snaps hard against the countertop) 

“Do not underestimate me, Carmen. Do not think I will not walk out of that fucking door and not come back.”

( What happens next is the usual crew pushback but adorned wet, with glistening threads of frothing spittle flying, pearly whites snarling and snapping back and forth as they do in the kitchen. He hasn’t known a lovelier sight than the daggers piercing your eyes )

“I know. I know. You’re right. Shit.”

Carmen. I swear.

What. What?

You need to fuck off.

Oh, I need to fuck off? This is my restaurant, and I need to fuck off?

(You throw your head back, and you laugh)

Chef, you can go. Leave. Get the fuck out!

“I need you.” There’s twisted tension straining in his hands. Carmen’s a shaggy mess and belly up. He could win you over with a whimper and a lick. “I do. You know. I, uh…” 

What clings to Carmen’s tongue are the ugly bits of slimy gizzards and bird guts. The chewy parts they throw away. His admittance of guilt is coppery red. His admittance of— whatever the fuck that feeling is in the pit of his stomach that’s as much of a persistent nuisance as any whetted hunger— that, he bites back when he’s sober and choked. 

“You need me.” You repeat. Brows raised in disbelief, you scoff.

Maybe, he thinks, if he presented all those bloodied scraps, mold them perfectly into bite-sized delicacies plated pretty – would you readily consume them between his teeth?

“ Yes .” He swallows hard. “I do.” His eyes flutter, and when he looks at you, a teary-eyed windswept mess, pretty and plagued, you look away. “I know what you’re capable of. I’ve seen it. And, you know, I guess I kind of like seeing it?” Carmen huffs a nervous-sounding laugh. 

“My actions don’t match how I feel most of the time. I know.” He continues, surveying you closely. “When I push you, it’s because I know you can handle it. It’s because I expect you to handle it. And I hold you to a high standard, chef, I do. But sometimes, you know, I’ll push, and I’ll keep pushing until everything just fucking snaps. Learned bad habits, I guess.” Another nervous chuckle. “You have this way of— of performing that’s so precise. Of just annihilating the kitchen. And it’s ambitious, and it’s exacting, and it’s focused, and you know, it’s the sort of thing I was lucky to find.” He pauses. Closes his eyes. The light extinguishes for just a moment. “We can be inspired by that. The restaurant. You can really make a big difference here, for everyone. And… I can’t even… I’m sorry. Really. You’re more than—  I need you here. I do. I want you here, I want you to stay, and I’m just so fucking sorry.”

Something clutches to your throat, biting fear or anger suffocating. Both. One melts seamlessly into the other. Crystallizes beautifully into something shimmering and sweet, just for you. You could get sick off of it. You cross your arms close to your chest.  Quiet wedges itself in the space in between. The wind howls as drunken laughter tumbles down the city streets. A late-night drag lights the end of his cigarette. 

You take a deep, shaky breath. On exhale, the question spills carelessly from your mouth, “what do you feel?” And you lean your head back against the fence. Your foot is already halfway out the door and foolishly, foolishly, toeing the piled mess that remains on the other side. “I mean, I get it. But that, that was— what was that, Carmen?” Felt your hands mimic his. Felt antsy, felt tense. Felt wired. “Don’t say you were stressed. Don’t tell me the typical bullshit. I want to know what changed today when yesterday we were laughing and…”

Carmen’s shoulders, they lower. His head perks up, and he stiffens. It’s a threat or it’s a surrender (it’s hard to tell either way until he opens his mouth). “That’s a…” he runs a hand down his face, then tosses it in the air. His pounding heart fumbles terribly, all the way up until it’s lodged like a fist in his throat. “I don’t know.” 

“No, Carmen. Don’t do that.” Carmen takes another drag and nods. There’s venom laced in your tone. His honey curls bounce under the streetlight. “One minute we’re fine. Everything is fine and good and normal and… great between us. That’s when you—” Stopped yourself for a moment when you realize, “I don’t know why it hurts. But it does, when you push me away like that. I thought…” and maybe this was a short-sighted assumption, that you and Carmen could be close, fuck it, closer friends outside of work. ”I thought we were past the bullshit we’ve both experienced in the kitchen. The micromanaging. The impossible, and I mean impossible expectations you’ll put on me, Carmen. That’s what’s unfair. When I don’t meet them, you shut down on me. You’ll explode. You’ll tell me I’m a great chef then turn around and spit on everything I’ve done, you’ll throw me away just because you can.”

He says your name. It’s stripped down and softened to sound so contrite. The truth is abrasive. Yours belies his reality, the one that has you pinned like a shrine where his thoughts sway. Hearing your words carved the serrated edges of the conversation down into something smoother, eased the tension clutching tight to his throat and replaced it all with guilt. His fingers twist and curl with uncertainty. “You, um,” he flexes his hands, the wound and the knife and the ink-black letters stamped on his fingers stretching with it. “You are an excellent chef.” He declares. “I mean that. And sometimes, you know, I- I guess I don’t know if I’m threatened by that or…”

“Or what?” Your jaw clenches. Nudging Carmen forward feels a little like nearing the edge. He’s nodding to himself, and it’s almost like you can see the turmoil rolling in overhead with only seconds before a downpour. 

“I guess, you know,” Carmen decides to jump headfirst. “I guess it kinda scares me, how I feel about you sometimes.”

The door swings wide open hitting the brick with a resounding thud. 

“Yo, cousin. Hey! The fuck are you two twats doing out here?”

“What the fuck, Richie. What?” Carmen gets up and dusts off his pants. “I thought you left already.”

“Yeah, uh, I did, but I’m kinda missing a key.” Richie pats his pockets. “Don’t know what I did with it, you know what I did with it?”

“Why would I— wait, you lost the fuckin’ key?”

“I didn’t say I lost the key, okay—” Richie corrects with his pointer finger.

“ Jesus .”

“—I said I’m missing a key. I don’t remember what I did with the key. There’s a huge fucking difference. I thought I left it here.”

Carmen runs a hand down his face and places one on his hip. “Yeah, yo, cousin, just— go the fuck home, alright? I’m here, I'll close. Go look for the fuckin’ key. Maybe, I don’t know, put it on a keyring next time? You know? Secure it somewhere so we don’t have fucking randos breaking in and taking our shit?”

“Yeah, okay, like they’ll know to come to the Beef of all fuckin’ places. I’ll find your fucking key, cousin. Relax.” On his way out, Richie scrambles back around, leather jacket creased and rustling when he directs a sharp bra d’honnuer over at Carmen “Here’s your fucking key. Jesus. I’ll get you your key.” Stumbles back into the kitchen and leaves you and Carmen predictably and perfectly stunned. 

“Fuckin’ asshole.” Carmen sparks another cigarette between his lips.

You decide to follow Richie back into the restaurant. “Let me make sure he closes the door properly this time.” 

The lock clicks. You press your back against the glass and sigh. 

Carmen’s still outside, still wondering why the fuck he opened his mouth in the first place (is it a little too late now, he wonders, the damage has been irreparably done, then undone, and now it’s like a shanty thing hanging out somewhere in limbo?). Figures the length of time it takes to finish his cigarette is enough of a cushion to rest on. (You need space after that, right? After what, he doesn’t fuckin’ know).

Questions and thoughts flood beyond the cracks and over the broken dam; did he just admit to having feelings for you? Are you with Richie, did you just leave with Richie? Just now? You did. You should have. He fucked up (again, he did it again). It’s cheek-searing shame flooding in and fuck, the cigarette burns down to a nub, till his fingers singe hot and he tosses it down to the ground. He thinks to light another. Thinks to—

“Hey.”

Carmen looks up. His heart patters. You shouldn’t be here. “Hey.” 

He looks even more lost and wounded than before, stranded out at sea like a young sailor shipwrecked and separated from his beloved Golden Hind. “You closing shop soon?” Tilted your head to the side and offered an open hand.

Carmen stares.

“Yeah, uh. Yeah.” Approaches you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

The kitchen still smells fresh of sauteed onions and garlic and slow-broiled roasts. It’s quiet and empty and sterile at night. A massive chrome box, but flickering. A fluorescent in-between of soft light buzzing, and green glowing murmurs where there isn’t painted darkness blanketing the chairs and the tables outside. It’s an intimate portrait, personal in the way secrets only exist when the clock strikes midnight, otherworldly and strange, even, and aside from the two fragile beating hearts flinting about on the kitchen floor, no one else existed. 

You begin counting inventory. Pans and pots and the finest stainless steel circulating the market on his shelves. Carmen maintained a lavish stock of onyx-black handles gleaming as brilliant as the knives themselves, amongst other things. The rags are old, tattered, and thinning. Dyed several shades yellower than their original pearly white, and probably the most threadbare thing sitting in his kitchen.

They should be replaced soon. Carmen steps out of his office. 

“Leave it.” He says softly by the door. “I’ll get to it tomorrow.” And nods to the marker and notepad in your hand.

“Don’t we need—”

He says your name so sweetly, arms crossed, tells you to stop. “ Please. We’ll be here all night.” 

“Okay. Heard.” You echo his urgency and place the marker and pad back down, hands up. The smile blooming across your face – your stupid, blaring smile growing the longer he stares. It exposes every last bit of crumbling resolve that remained (and does he know how damning that is?). Scattered pieces he could count on one hand skittering across the floor like kicked marbles. Dealt your hand around the time he started doing that— his bedroom eyes are weighed down by total exhaustion, mostly, but if you’re not wary, you’ll forget, won't you? The cards you now hold close to your chest have dwindled down to nothing. He’s caught your bluff. He’s breaking you down. 

The stillness is louder than the silence. Carmen slants his weight against the doorframe. His white tee adheres to him like a slimming second skin. Shifted your attention to the tattoos marking his hands, his arms. You want to ask about the scar on his hand. Decide against it. You’re pinned under his stare, and it’s distracting – his sleepy eyes are at half-mast, all dreamlike and pretty. It’s a shame the way they rest on you.

“What?” you finally ask. 

His dimples press faintly into his cheeks. 

“Nothing.” You’ve got that disheveled end-of-the-day look, worn in beautifully. Carmen’s blinded, thoroughly lost, disarmed (this is how he’ll get you, this is how it starts). Nothing seems entirely real and his mind wanders in the moment of quiet that stretches on for what feels like an eternity. Tells himself – this is utterly insane. Unprofessional above everything else. But he still can’t wrap his mind around any of it, he can’t help himself, so he comes closer. Meets you halfway. Places both hands down on the cooled expo, grounds himself that way, and looks down at the scars on his knuckles. 

You eye him with careful skepticism, still gnawing on the conversation from earlier. Disjointed ligaments stuff your cheeks. Between your molars are the meaty tendons tough and dry. The exchange was all too chewy, indigestible bits that fail to fit the guise of innocent restaurant folly. There was more to it. You decide when it’s safe, and slowly, you approach. Slid beside him and leaned against the kitchen expo. Crossed your arms and slide your lip between your teeth. Pondered the silence, scouring to assemble the next thing that rolls off your tongue. You ask, and it’s delicately impish, “what’s going on with you, Berzatto?” Tipped your head until you caught his eyes. He’s a climbing flame of baby blues crackling. His hair set alight, untamed.

He doesn’t know if it’s better to explain or to deflect. So he paws at the question as if it’s an idle plaything. “‘t’s a last-name basis now?”

When your eyes light up, you shake it away (it’s such a stupid, fucking joke), but your cheeks plump up, too, and your lips curl to reveal his precious glinted glory. “Just checking, you know,” he adds. And the sudden shift inside of him, the sense of unbridled contentment for making you laugh, it is utterly insane, absolutely insane, because he almost opens his stupid fucking sailor's mouth to tell you how impossibly beautiful you are – devastatingly, endlessly so, and he’d do anything to see that again. 

“You’re so fucking annoying.” You say through sparked splendor.

“Yeah, I know, you like it.” He tests a jab. Doesn’t know why. After a beat, “fuck the rules, complete anarchy?” He shrugs. “Call me, what— yes, asshole. No, you piece of shit…”

“Oh, so the usual.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Berzatto until you piss me off again.” You confirm. Close enough to smell the tobacco on his skin. 

“Then what?” He tests again.

“I like jeff. It’s passive-aggressive when it needs to be.”

Carmen nods. It’s not just tobacco on his skin, it’s a scent very specific, very familiar to Carmy— Carmen. He smells like the heart of a kitchen. The warmed underside of golden, sun-damp autumn leaves scattered. Of something evergreen and burning red cedar. You smile again, combing over the features of his face, determining when exactly you began to see him like this. You cast your lure to observe how he bites. “Won’t be long, will it?”

Carmen licks his lips and looks up. You wanted to run a finger down his neck. He relents through a long exhale. “I give it a few days. A week? Tops.” Then he’ll make up for it, until he can’t, until he’s battered. Carmen turns his head to ask, sincerely, “are we good?” and you can hear the desperation coating his voice, low and heated and glazed syrupy sweet. 

You bite your lip. You nod, slowly, and agree to submit ( for now, his stare is simply too unyielding). Hearts fluttering as lost, little netted bugs do, the collar around Carmen’s neck tightens when his eyes fall to your lips, it’s quick, but just in time for you to answer, “Yes, chef.”

“Jesus.” He turns his head away. That thing you do— fuck. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” You ask again as if you had no clue what you were doing. You loved to see him break, loved to peel back at the Carmen you knew when no one was around. It was thrilling. It was surprising. It was hazardous, like falling straight into a pit of lashing tongues and fire. “What am I doing, Carmen?” You remind yourself to reel back for a moment. Don’t get too carried away. “We’re good, for now. Until you lunge at my throat again,” you tease with a quick toss of your shoulder.

“I don’t wanna do that anymore.” It’s hefty, the sincerity in his voice. Far too serious, far too authentic. He talks in ambiguities and half-truths most of the time so when he says things like this, sentiment pouring out from his mouth and his eyes, you never know how to take.

“It’s inevitable, Carmen.” So you tell him the truth. Clean slate for a new slaughter. “We know that by now.”

He wants to counteract that with a promise but fears his words are a measly attempt at patching the wounds he’s made.

Carmen pushes his weight into the expo. He doesn’t think he’s leaning in as close as he is, not that you mind. This closeness, this quiet is as rare as these conversations. He’s somewhere else now, anyway. His interest perched between his thumbs, and the clock ticks and ticks and bleeds into the morning. It’s something like a lucid dream, hallucinogenic, this otherness. Blue-hued and distant.

He says your name again to find some grounding. It’s softer than the last time, says it to see how it trickles down your face this time. Rolls like slow-dripping maple but sweeter.

You hum, and it's apparent; someone is expected to break the silence first. You uncross your arms. Exhaustion tore the more rigid walls down. Felt in that instant that something could snap the longer he stares, the longer you hold it out. He examines when you mimic, he examines your nuanced expressions, how you taunt and how he's drawn closer, and something inside him knows. He could sniff your need out like a bloodhound, and he just knows. “What are we doing?” he asks quietly (what am I doing? He meant to say, or better yet, what are you doing to me, but he can’t manage to put his words in working order).

It’s a question that sounds more like a cry for help. “We’re being idiots.” You look down.

Carmen nods in understanding, or maybe it’s less than that. He’s trying to understand. Trying his best to understand the urges he’s resisting, his gnawing thoughts. His lips part to say something else (wanted to ask something incurably stupid, possibly, are you even real?) You wait. Draw out the moment a bit longer, because of what happens next— the torrential rain, the downpour that comes when the lines are blurred down to nothing. The foundation that stood beneath you both is glass unsplintered, set in beautifully aged, rich cherry wood. It’s unfailing. Passed between chefs like a burning cigarette; a budding kitchen romance glossed over with the polished veneer of professionalism nearly as thin and as breakable. 

When Carmen no longer resists, it shatters. Broken shards splinter where his hand graces the hem of your shirt, piercing the skin there. He pins you closer. Scrapes and gashes where his heated fingers run, where the tip of his nose trails along your jaw and up. It cuts the skin of your cheek. Lips ghosting, all teasing, terrified of sealing off this voluntary demise with a first kiss. 

You press your lips to his, and it’s something like a heedless puncture through the heart. 

For a moment, he forgets. For a moment, all this peril seems so small. Soft heat pushing, overwhelming, the world fades and it’s dizzying and warm and plush and perfect and so, so tender. The sounds you make, sighs soft, a whimper. Carmen tries his best to find it again. Pursues the sound like it’s already his. Found all his messy words hidden on your tongue. Found some strange semblance of understanding there, too, tacked perfectly to the roof of your mouth, and sticky, so sticky. Lapped it up, smooth and fresh like sweet churned butter on a silver, polished spoon. 

Carmen’s lips are clumsy, surprisingly soft. Smoked with the cloying scent of tobacco, slick with bad habits and need. It’s addictive and it’s dangerous. Pure rich indulgence, and you find it unkind how gentle he’s being. Even after everything he’s thrown at your head, all the clashing, the rage, even after you whine and you whimper and you tug his bottom lip between your teeth – it’s a travesty, a sick joke. He kisses you and he’s holding back, like you’ll break under him and all his weight, like you haven’t been bruised by him at all. He’s chasing after your lips when you move away, noses bumping gracelessly— “what happened to the guy who told me to fuck off?” 

His brown knit together. He whimpers a lacerated sound. Your murmur was cruel with measured bitterness, it slipped between you unexpectedly. 

“I…” You’re still pliant beneath his hands but Carmen shrinks away like he’s just been stung. So much torment behind his eyes, an endless burning blue flame. He blinks a few times. Moves back to steady himself against the sudden whiplash. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No. That’s not—” somehow, then, and it was like looking in the mirror, his disquiet is clearer. Those ugly afflictions that drive him to be such a fucking ass. 

You’ll tell me I’m a great chef then turn around and spit on everything I’ve done, you’ll throw me away just because you can. (He’ll do it again, you’re sure of it, double down and it’ll be twice as worse as before)

This was no different. This supple game of back and forth and tiresome push and pull. It was all fucked. The thing about Carmen, about you— you’re professionals driven by passion, and passion can be so hard to distinguish. His fury is an intimidating equal to his appetite, and it burns all the same. “Carmy,” the way you say his name, it begs, it lures him back in like a dear siren’s song. It’s needy, achingly soft. Starved. Take him between your tiny hands and kissed him sweetly. Felt messier than before, more confused. “ Don’t apologize,” you exhale against his mouth, and you kiss him again. Brought his shaky palms to your waist. 

Kissed him until his lips wander, to the junction of your neck, grazing the column of your throat with teeth and months of longing. “I’m sorry,” he’ll say again and again until he’s blue in the face, etch it into your skin until he has you gasping. Calloused hands hold you steady by your waist and press you back down into the expo when you roll your hips into him. 

Carmen wanted to take things slow. Pace himself before he explored your jaw, down your neck, down until he finds that delicate sweet spot he works until ripe. Leans in closer, hips pressed into the push of yours when he drags his tongue against your skin, over the marks he thinks to make, and you taste like all those times he couldn’t. Even better, he considers, on the off chance he drops to his knees, between your thighs— slow down. Feels you writhe with life against his body and whine a sound so lurid. Made just for him (that’s his, all his). He snatches it greedily between his teeth. 

The brambled mess at the nape of his neck, his mess of curls tangle with your hands. You pull. The sound that escapes is so small, so adorable. A desperate whine, shy and filthy, muffled against your mouth. He breaks away. He tempers himself, disheveled, breathless, lips spit-slick and reddened. A beautifully flushed mess. “I’m sorry.” His cheeks are a lovely shade of rose-tinted lust. 

“What…” You draw back. Bubbling laughter plays at the back of your throat like fresh bottled champagne. “ Carmen. It’s okay.” Confusion draws your brows together. Curls wrap around your finger. You’re dazed beyond recognizing what’s spinning and what’s not.

He grabs hold of the edge of the expo, arms on either side of you. He’s shaking his head. “No, no, I mean for earlier. For today.” Scrubs a hand over his face before placing his arm back down again. 

Your expression flickers. “About…”

“Yes.” He answers, searching for a flare or a spark. The start of it. The measured ounce of self-betrayal that nestles in the lines of your face when you try to hide your upset, he comes up empty for the first time. “You walked out.”

“I did.” You nod. 

“If you didn’t come back, that would’ve been on me.”

“Carmen.”

“I was reckless with you.”

“Carmen… ” Ran both hands up his chest and ignored his unending rambling. Warmed thumping beneath soft white cotton. His caged heart pounds painfully against his ribcage. 

 All quivering breath he tries so hard to steady. Strained through his teeth, “you should be angrier.”

Curved your fingers around his neck to nest them in his sandy hair. They pull. It’s instinct. His grunt is too, and when he finally stops talking,“Berzatto,” you warn. Pushed yourself up close to his ear. Felt him growing hard against your thigh, his eyes flutter closed – “shut the fuck up.”

Released your grip and watched the way his eyes gloss over, shaded lids falling heavy. Carmen’s jaw tightens, teeth-grinding restraint while he’s reeling, light-headed. He can’t tell what’s possessing him, guilt or want or a need for control. A need to be good and to be useful. He lowers gently back into the crook of your neck. Something there, he found something sensible there.

His words, maybe, “you should be angrier with me,” grumbled against your skin. That was true. That was right. He doesn’t listen. Carmen can’t help himself. “I feel like I’m…” his hand drops. His tongue flattens against your pulse. He tastes the salt on your skin and hears just how much you like that. Nibbles there, and enjoys how much you move. Pushed his hips and wanted more of how you pulled. Feels himself losing control of his own thoughts, getting faint, getting fuzzy. His fingers trace along your waistband, down your zipper. “Tell me to stop.”

Too many questions linger where his thoughts sway and none of them are about the restaurant or the menu or—

“Please,” he hears, and it’s desperation that snatches your tongue and twists your head when you feel the pressure of his fingers curl against you. Pressure building until you make another sound that he likes, that he chases, then his hand slips back, then pulls forward against you through your pants. You’re already heated to the touch. He wonders selfishly, hungrily in his delirium how wet you are, how wet he can make you.

“Please what?” he asks. No, he really can’t help himself. With how easily you’re worked like the meat he cuts, how you move against him, rocking your hips into his hand like a high tiding wave, why would he stop? (he’s really, really good at spiraling until he’s really, really good at something, and maybe this is a little like that ). He follows the slow-moving rhythm of your hips. Presses you up against the expo with just one hand, the other clutches to the edge for support. It jolts and it rattles. Something crashes to the ground, but he doesn’t care enough to look. Carmen works you steadily – throws a sly quip, hushed, purposeful, and cunning, “use your words, chef.”

“Fuck you, Carmen.” Pierces his lips. He smiles.

“Good.” Carmen looks hazed. He looks drunk. He marvels over you with adoration, lovely and as lethal as the razor-sharp edge of his favorite cutting knife. “Just like that.” Looks down and unbuttons your pants, you help. He slides his hand beneath your waistband. Interest peaks in him like a curious fawn, eager to witness what damage he’s done. Wonders what sound you’ll make – you groan against his mouth when he runs two fingers along the slick pooling your underwear, and— “ fuck,” he’s off-balanced again. 

Makes a mess of your underwear, a pure, sopping wet mess, and it’s maddening decadence. He has you cradled in his hand. His fingers run circles around your clit through the twisted fabric, bunched helplessly against your combined movements. Faster, when you dissolve and cry out, his fingers are quick but precise. Searing hot pressure builds in your gut, overcoming. Your cries echoing off the walls fill the empty room. Carmen wanted to see just how loud he can get you. Get you dizzy, get you addled with need. 

Then he slows down. 

It’s so sudden, your faint “ no ” brushes his lips. He breaks from your mouth to observe what ecstasy comes of it. Closed around nothing, spilled light shines through your mouth and it’s light he’ll drown under. His burning hand cradles the side of your face. Singes the memory of your want and flesh and vulnerability. The toll of what comes, these scars of a fondness are incomprehensible (if he questions it he just might go insane). He kisses you tenderly. He strokes your cheek. Skin buzzing, hammering heart in your ears, primed hot and slick-wet, and it’s just for him. Your hips move with Carmen’s touch, hands in his hair, and he’s telling you just how pretty you are, like this (just like this, keep going). He’s torturously controlled, even the movements of his hands are exacting while he’s soothing you. Languid fingers play you unhurriedly until they’re soaking. 

You and Carmen cling to each other, tangled limbs, lost in some hypnotic trance. A lazing tide. Drunk on lust and feeling and fevered euphoria. He moved the fabric to the side and pushed a finger inside you. You gasp. “Fuck.” 

Found your earlobe between his teeth and sucked. “You like that?” he asks. You nod against him, clutching tight, lashes scrunched shut. He dips another finger inside of you, they slip in and out with unexpected ease. Massages you until primed and tender, until you’re thanking him with open-mouth bites down his neck. It’s an intense, slow-building pleasure. Heat slicks his hand, his palm pressing winding pressure on your clit, “is this what you want?”

“Carmy,” his name tastes better the more you say it. Every bad decision suddenly seems so entirely weightless. One hand tangled in his hair, the other strokes the length of him through his pants, straining, he whimpers. He thrusts into your hand. “I want you inside me.”

He can’t say anything, can’t manage to articulate against your words or the pressure of your palm, but he nods. You tug his sweaty curls just a bit harder and his thrusts get deeper, more desperate, rolls his hips again, then again, and he’s certain the feeling devouring him is the one that’ll leave him in ruin. His body is begging for it. You captured the moan in his throat between your lips as you reached for his belt. Started to pull, and unbuckle, but he curves his hand and his fingers in a way that makes you lose momentum. 

A sense of pride strikes him when you fumble (and it’s not a competition by any means, but he does like the thought of winning). You grab onto him for support, burrowing yourself in the crook of his neck. “You wanna come?” It was this heated closeness, the way you unravel and whine your answers that’s unlike what he’s used to in the kitchen, this openness. Less vocal and unburdened by standards and boundless prep and orders, broken game machines, and kitchen grease making a mess of where you step. Beneath his fingertips is flesh, raw and dripping. There’s possessiveness filling in his chest. Frantically rugged desire to have you fall apart, and give you all that he can. “I wanna make you come.” 

Carmen feels compelled to earn this. “I wanna see you come for me.” Removes his hand and you feel too empty. Grabs you by the waist, lips locked furiously, and the instant you turn it’s like your bodies work in unison, a harmonious rhythm that follows the raw, biting need of the other. The expo shakes. The clashing of pots and plates nearly goes unnoticed under the buzzing as you clutch onto it for balance. It’s beautiful and decorated and scarred, the hand that travels up under your shirt, ink black sou squeezing your breast while his hips push forward. You arch into him. 

There’s a slick smile pressed into his lips. “Where’s the person who told me to fuck off?” trickles off his tongue like dark molasses. Carmen grinds against you and dips a hand between your thighs again. Your eyes roll back. You bite your lip, fuck he was a nuisance but he could convince you to do anything if it meant feeling the soft strum of his fingers. 

You shake your head. “I can’t…”

“You can’t what?” Curls two fingers inside of you perfectly, hitting you just right and has you moaning. “What can’t you do? Remember what I said, chef, about using your words,” he says low and steady and hot by your ear. His hand, untethered from out under your shirt, finds its grounding on your throat, fingers wrapped tight enough to have you entirely unfocused, light-headed, and hazed. He pulls you flush to his chest, so weak you’re like putty in his hands. He holds you in place, heart flinting from your chest to your throat, pressure mounting, nose skimming the skin of your neck, he places a stinging kiss there. He soothes it over with sickly sweet devotion, “you’re so good. So, so good for me.”

It’s praise that goes straight to your cunt, has you pushing back against the length of him, has him pushing back into you, between his clothed erection and searing palm. Teases your clit until it becomes too much, and it’s just enough, and it’s perfect how well he works you up until you’re tense and chanting his name, repurposed like a lacy white prayer where it reaches. Legs collapsed in, consuming slow-building fires spreading through your belly and thighs, and he’s shushing you through your quiet mewls, telling you it’s okay, it’s okay. Supporting your weight with that’s it, good, keep doing that – as you ride your orgasm out on his fingers. 

The seconds after, and you don’t know which came first. His hand unlatches from your throat. Your palms press down against the expo. Carmen massages you down slowly from your high, aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing and pushing tight around his fingers. He explores the sensation and listens to the way your body moves to his fingers as he rubs you. It’s only buzzing that you hear in your ears at first before you feel the warmth of his lips littering kisses down your neck, his wet hands at your waist. Pressed his erection into you again while you whine and wiggle.

“Carmy, please.” It’s urgent, blaring want tearing through any logic. Never mind work or time, or the fact that being fucked like this in his kitchen was most definitely a health violation. 

“You want more?” Carmen’s breathless and hungry. He’s already bending you over the expo, consumed raw by lust and heat. He’s unsteady, a little wobbly, a little delirious without sleep. Your mouth opens wide when his fingers reach for your throat, inviting, he hesitates. Slowly, he shoves two past your lips, slides perfectly on your tongue. “ Jesus,” he pants. It’s sinful seeing how readily you take him, sucking lasciviously around his fingers as your tongue explores, you savor the taste and hum. He’s weak under it, so he holds on tighter to your waist. Carmen lazily drives his hips deeper. “Maybe we should…” His words are slurred, crashing into each other. He licks his lips.

He feels his head heavy, his heart speeding up to something impossible. Through the dimmed haze your eyes open. You slid away from his fingers, “Carm,” braced yourself, and pushed up from the expo. Blinked away the blurry edges, then turned. Your fluttering hand rested on his cheek. “Carmen,” you said a little louder this time. He looked out of it. “Carmen. Hey,” worry curling in your stomach when his breathing becomes labored, you steady his head between your hands. “ Carmen. Look at me.”

His eyes register. He blinks a few times. He’s staring at you like he’s just woken up from a dream. “Where the fuck did you just go?” you ask, wide-eyed concern woven all over your face.

“I, um,” he swallows. He lost his balance for just a moment, for just one moment. His heart did that fucking thing again. It comes in waves. It’s less intense on some nights, more intense on others, and it’s a whole lot to explain. “I’m okay. I’m okay. I just…” he takes a deep, uneven breath. He remembers he didn’t have lunch today, either, cause he was all caught up with Lu on the phone (and he didn’t really account for the rest of this). You’re too silent. He scrubs a hand over his brows. “Look, uh, it happens. Sometimes. That.” Looks down at the ground, beet-red. 

“It happens.” You nod, unconvinced. A little in shock. Waited until you saw it again, that ever-climbing crystal blue flame. “That happens? I mean, do you need water, do you need to sit?” 

“No. No, I’m okay,” he nods assuredly and grips the edge of the expo with one hand. 

“Carmen.” Your hands hover over him.

“Look, I’m fine.” After a moment, he pushes away. His hands squirm. He turns in a circle, then stops moving. He braces. He questions, “did I, was that weird?”

You scoff a laugh. Watching Carmen move while he’s on edge is a special kind of curdling anxiety, tight-coiled knots bundle your words together, and it’s all a bit unhinged, this. You raised both of your brows. “Weird?” You repeat, eyes like saucers searching for the punchline. “Carmen, are you kidding me? You almost passed out in front of me and you’re asking me if I found that weird.”

“Well, yeah, and…” His eyes flint everywhere yours aren’t. His hair sticks up in every which way.

“No.” You slide in. “It wasn’t, weird.” You lean your weight against the expo. Pressed a palm to your temple, and huff. “It’s weird… that you’d ask something like that after you almost…” 

Carmen nods along. Backs into the stove, hands by his side, hunched over. He’s had his share of half-baked flings and fumbling quickies in the past. All were short-lived and kind of fucked from the start, and none of them really ended like this? Carmen thinks he’ll find the next best thing to say resting somewhere on the ground, between the cracks, under the tiles. “I’m fine. Really. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You always say that.” Your voice is sobering. 

“It’s true.”

“No, it’s stupid.” The way you look at him will fill his heart to bursting, have him finding sanctuary whenever they do rest on him.

After a moment, “Come here,” he says softly, though he’s the one approaching you. His hands reach for the still unbuttoned button on your pants, he fastens them. Zips them back up again. His fingers trace a line around your waist.

Somewhere he’s found blossoming nightshades and lovely hanging foxgloves sprouting, laceflowers grow like all the others. Poison hemlocks look a lot like flowering queen anne’s emerging around spring, and maybe, he tells himself, maybe he can afford this pretty little death.

“Berzatto,” you say. Carmen hums. “What are we doing?”

Another dimpled smile presses into his cheeks. The flicker of unrest that ripples over his face, the one you seize to hold in your pocket, a reminder for later (do not near, fall back) he shakes that away. “Being fuckin’ idiots.”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #I love this toxic duo sm enjoy!! #🕯

[lixieisgod]

3:33 a.m. ᥫ᭡

⤷ synopsis—ᥫ᭡ it’s late asl n I’m thinkin’ about sitting on Shinichiro’s lap slowly grinding my ass on his clothed cock, n’ makin’ my pretty boy all needy for me while he smokes.

⤷ notes—ᥫ᭡ hola horny bitches hope everyone is doing well, remember to drink water and take care of yourselves. feel free to send in asks and your feedback is always welcomed in the comments as long as you’re respectful.<3

⤷ cw—ᥫ᭡ smut, mommy kink, smoking/substances, weed, praise, mentions of face sitting, riding, fem bodied reader, needy shin, tittie sucking, shin calls himself a pretty slut, begging,vaginal penetration. lmk if I messed anything. <3

———————————ᥫ᭡———————————

the room is dimly illuminated by red led lights that seem to make his pretty red eyes even more intense, you can’t help but notice his dark irises gazing at your glossy lips.

one of his hands is placed on your lower waist helping guid you back and forth. While the other is holding the blunt up to his lips. He takes a puff of the almost finished blunt while leaning his head back showing off his Adam's apple then releases the smoke into the cool air.

“want the last puff darling” he utters out in that silky voice of his that never fails to make your pussy flutter.

You lean in making direct eye contact with him and taking the blunt from between his slender fingers “we should share instead” you inhaled then pulled him in by his silver necklace while still maintaining eye contact. You passionately kissed him, blowing the smoke into your lover's mouth before slowly pulling away.

He exhaled the smoke in your face and grabbed onto your waist slightly lifting you while he sat up readjusting himself. When he sat up you felt his hard cock graze your pussy making you smirk at the whimper your boyfriend tried to hide.

Shin isn’t sure if it’s the weed he’s high on or if it’s you. The only thing he knows for sure right now is how bad he needs you, he needs his pretty girl to make him feel good like she always does.

“mhhmph, you're makin’ me all horny, can’t take it anymore, need you so bad baby” he spoke in a desperate and whiny tone.

You could feel his hard cock poking you.

“pleasee touch me, c-can feel your pussy drooling all over my thigh through those panties, need you so bad right now”

he was right, your pussy has been achingly wet for him this whole time.

“Such a needy boy, aren’t you shin”?

“How can’t I be when you always make me feel so good” you smiled at his response before loosely wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him into a sloppy lust filled kiss.

His taste was intoxicating, both your tongues danced in each other’s mouths. The kiss was extra messy, Shin was on cloud 9 with the way you made him feel, your candy flavored lip gloss made the kiss even more erotic and messy.

Shin bit your lower lip before pulling away leaving behind a trail of both yours and his saliva mixed with your lipgloss and a delightful sting on your bottom lip. Heavy pants left his throat as you lowered yourself into a kneeling position. Your hands rubbed the clear outline of his dick through his pants, shin hissed at the sensation before low grunts started leaving his parted lips.

He bucked up desperate to feel more of you, he’s always been such a needy boy, your needy boy.

“please, I need more.”

“where’s the fun in just giving you what you want? c’mon I know you know you know better than that,beg for it a little baby” you spoke looking up at him with big doe eyes and a shit eating grin plastered on your face.

“please y/n, n-need you so fucking bad, need to make you feel good, oh fuckk n-need that perfect pussy of yours squeezin’ me, need it all so fuckin’ bad baby”.

God,you lived for when he got like this.

“hmm.. that’s my good boy”.

Shinichiro discuarded of his white t-shirt leaving his top half bare. You kissed from below his belly button down while freeing him of his sweatpants and boxers. Finally his pretty flushed dick was free of its fabric prison.

You grabbed his cock and licked a stripe from the base of his dick to his flushed tip, making a shiver run through shinichiro. You looked up at him and could see his glossy red lust filled eyes. Continuing to hold eye contact with him you started placing sloppy kisses all over his cock making him whine out.

“mhhhmphhh, b-baby fuck me p-please”. That was all you needed to hear before you climbed back up to sit on Shinichiro’s naked lap. Your hands found themselves tangled in Shinichiro’s messy raven colored hair as he rid you of your mini skirt, top, and finally your soaked panties leaving both of you completely naked.

“So fucking beautiful”

His mouth immediately latched on to your right tit and his hand massaged the other. He placed sloppy kisses all over your bare chest making you moan out his name softly along with praises telling him what a good boy he was.

His mouth latched onto your other tit and began lapping his tongue over your hardened nipple, softly biting your sensitive nipple making you yelp. A giggle left his lips as he began kissing up your sensitive neck and kissed jawline before whispering in your ear

“prettiest girl, with the prettiest body, and by far the prettiest titties, n’ you’re all mine”

“That’s right such a smart boy” you tiled his chin up and smiled at him “you know I have the prettiest boy all to myself to ruin”

A heavy blush coated his face as you kissed along his neck and chest marking him with lovebites.

He slipped your panties off and you gently held his dick and started rubbing his tip at your entrance.

“baby I’m gonna put it in now, okay”

“pleasee mommyy need to feel you”

You slowly began to work your way down on Shin's cock feeling him stretch you open with every inch that was inserted into your tight sloppy pussy. when he finally bottomed out you began bouncing yourself on him using him as tho he were a sex toy.

Loud moans and wet sloppy sounds were the only thing audible at the moment, you were sure your neighbors could hear the both of you.

“Mhmmm f-fuch Shin, you’re such a good little slut for me isn’t that right pretty”

“hmm, I-I’m a p-pretty slut for mommy f-fuck makin me feel so fucking goodd ahh”

Shinichiro was on fucking cloud 9 to say the least,everytime he had a taste of your sweet cunt he could swear he was going insane, you just felt so god damn good.

Shin’s hands were gripping onto your hips hard enough that surely there would be a bruise tomorrow but you didn’t care.

With every time you slammed your pussy down on shin he would thrust his hips up hitting your sweet spot making pornorghic sounds escape both your mouths.

“F-fuckkkkk just like thatttt”

“y-y/n if you keep squeezin’ me like that m’ g-gonna cum so fuckin’ deep inside you”.

“S-shin I’m so fucking close”

“M-me too baby”One of shins fingers started rubbing at your swollen clit “ahhh f-fuuck faster shin”

the combination of his slender fingers rubbing your clit and dick hitting your sweet spot perfectly was all you needed to have you clenching tightly on shins cock sending both of you into overdrive.

“c-cum with me pleasee mommy”

“hmmmmm”

perfectly on cue both of you came soaking each other in your juices.

the both of you took some time to calm down from your previous intense orgasms and just stayed in the same position seated in the mess you both made, and shins cock still buried inside you.

with shaky legs and still slightly teary eyes shin tried catching his breath before speaking in his silky voice while stroking your hair, “you did so good, we made quite the mess tho why don’t you sit on my face lemme clean up my pretty girl”.

#lixieisgod🪐 #Lixie’s Astroworld👩🏽‍🎤🪐 #shinichiro drabble #shinichiro sano #shinichiro scenarios #shinichiro x y/n #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro x you #stoner!shinichiro #shinichiro smut #tr smut #tokyo revengers #Tokyo revengers smut #smut #sano shinichiro

[buzzcutperfection]

Routine

Content Warning: Discussion of erections and the like.

It’s just a regular touch up. My brown hair is just a little too long. Messy almost even though it still barely moves. Stagnant bristles that cover no scalp, only there for show. No function but for amusement.

I peer into the mirror at my own image. Somehow it feels wrong. How much hair I have is too much, even though it still isn’t much.

A pang of displeasure rings through my body as I run my hands through my hair and are met not by the prickly softness I seek, but by disappointing overgrowth. I’ve been busy and it shows in a way I wish it didn’t.

But I can fix this. My hands move to the drawer below my sink and pull. Inside is the tool integral to my solution: clippers. Their sleek silver shines under the white lights as I bring them out with a black cord trailing behind. Further in the drawer are things I don’t need anymore. Guards. I stopped using them a while ago. And more laughably, scissors. Haven’t needed those in a while.

I plug the clippers into the wall. I weigh them in my hands and position them correctly. My thumb reaches over and clicks the lever. And with that, they clatter to life. The blades hum almost viciously, metal sliding back in forth to create a loud, chattering machine that leaves nothing in its wake. The hum vibrates my hand, almost numbing it to the bone, but not enough to cause pain or discomfort.

I raise them to my forehead and bow my head. I stare into my own brown eyes and take a deep breath. I close my eyes and let another breath flow through me, listening to the air flow just beneath the sound of the clippers.

And go.

I push the clippers backward and hear their drone interrupted for a moment. They chew through the obstacle as I push backward, and clear up quickly, going back to their usual tune. I open my eyes and my mouth forms a smile with me barely realizing it. I watch the clumped up hairs roll down my head like a deformed snowball and into the sink. A shorn path has been formed. One where a pale scalp shines under the light between the valleys of still overgrown hair. I put the clippers to rest for a moment and reach for the newly cut hair. It rasps back almost like skin as I put my hand to it. The hair is rigid and almost sandpapery, so it should sting. But it doesn’t. It feels amazing. Like a thick coat of velvet laid on my head.

My grin doesn’t subside after I lift my hand away. I don’t want to, but I have to finish the haircut. I turn the clippers on again and they resume their metallic song. My hands move almost automatically to do the rest. They see a hair out of place and move the clippers to take it away. They want uniformity. For my whole head to be the thick, rigid, velvet. A more pleasurable emulation of sandpaper is my skull’s wonderful fate.

My brain drifts away as I continue to work at my hair, only thinking of the result as the clippers move. Slowly, I become aware of the thick rod in my pants. There’s nothing I can do about it, but feel it throb gently with each swipe of the clippers.

Finally, after I’ve twisted and contorted my arms, it’s even. But now I’m covered in hair and horny. Rubbing my head brings pleasure, but doesn’t satisfy, only increasing the hunger for the bristles. But I look… right, now. Correct. The peeling of the excess hair fixed how I look. Like I should have my scalp poking through, and my brown hair should be so minimal, it might as well be black. It feels natural to me. On me. More than with more hair. But it still feels a bit off.

My cock switches slightly as I spot the shaving cream.I could take off more. Go shorter. My body nags me for more. My heart starts to beat faster. A more pleasurable feeling, a more brutal cut is within my reach.

I give in. I reach for the can and pour a healthy helping into my hand. I begin to spread it across my velvet and my body becomes torn over what to find nice. The gel shocks me at first, almost cool like mint as it graces my scalp. Then the shock becomes relaxing as the cold settles in. The strange weight of the mixture relaxing me and the wonderful feeling of rubbing the bristles on my head excites me. So I’m torn. Torn in the best way possible.

I get the gel as even as possible and go for the razor. It’s the same process. Bow my head. Deep breath in. Close my eyes. Another breath. Go. I pull back with the razor and it glides over my head, leaving even less in its path, peeling away both gel and hair. It rasps ever so slightly as I shave it, like velcro but a softer noise as it cuts the hair away from my head. I put a finger on it and feel it again. It’s almost like smooth leather. A grip remains but finds no purchase as my fingers glide over the bald patch. I sigh with relief at it. That’s what I want. No hair, just skin. So, I go into autopilot again. Continue to remove hair and feel my lust intensify as I get closer to my goal. One I didn’t even know I had when I started. But now I do.

I feel complete as I scrape off the last bit of shaving cream. Perfection. I gasp and sigh as I run my hand across my head. My cock twitches.

But there’s one last problem. The mess I’ve made. Is it worth it ? For the brown hair littering the floor and the sink? I rub my head again and the answer comes to me. Plain and simple. One worded. YES.

#writing #buzzcut #bald

[hidingoutbackstage]

Okay aside from my hatred for how it treated Eveline, the DLC also just, wasn't great? And didn't matter? Spoilers below the cut

Okay so getting big thing out of the way: The DLC takes place before the 8 epilogue of Rose at Ethan's grave. Meaning that everything we see doesn’t matter. Rose was never going to lose her powers, she was always going to escape the mold mind palace (btw I’m gonna call it “mold mind palace” this whole time) and it just felt cheap to have the ENTIRE epilogue shown at the end. Like just show her on the bus, we know this scene. I kept waiting throughout the scene to see if they would show us anything new or different, but they didn't. That ending was pointless.

K was also such a nothing character. I speculated that it could be John, since the two characters' faces are similar, but it wasn't. Rose calls him K. John's HWS name is Lobo. If it were Dion she was meeting, that nickname might make sense (K9. There's actually a file in 8 that refers to Canine with that shortened nickname so it would've been possible) but Dion obviously doesn't look like this guy. Not to mention the reveal that he was never there doesn't do anything for us. We knew nothing about this guy, had no attachment to him, so Miranda tricking Rose the entire time means nothing to us. If it had been an actual former HWS member, or, hell, CHRIS then we might have felt something.

Also just the insinuations that 1) Chris is STILL leading HWS 16 years later 2) they're inviting more people to be part of HWS 3) HWS hasn't been shut down yet despite them having been a rogue team when we saw them operating in 8 and they went straight to BSAA HQ, meaning they probably would've received some consequences for going rogue and 4) they've asked Rose, a 16-year-old, to join their team, are all absurd

The DLC is also just really lazy. They recycle ideas, like Miranda using illusions to trick someone into seeing a person that wasn't even there, they recycle models, like seriously Evie looks exactly how she did in RE7, and her model there wasn't great and was still super clunky here and she wasn't proportioned like a child, and they reuse her tantrum animations from 7, they recycle locations just making things more messy or adding the new bloody mold goop to indicate this is the mind palace and not irl. They're lazy with Miranda's motivation too, like there's no reason for her to need Rose as a vessel for Eva anymore. If Eva's consciousness was truly in the mold like Miranda believed, then great! You're in the mold now, Miranda! Go find her! Why are you wasting time with Rose?

The "Michael" mystery was stupid. There was no real reason for him to not reveal himself to Rose right away. It wouldn't "complicate" anything, in fact she'd be more likely to trust you. He kept telling her to turn back, meaning if she had listened, they never would have gotten to speak, which is kind of what Ethan wanted. He wanted her out of the mind palace, safe, even if it meant he never saw her again. She probably could've taken solace in speaking to her dad, even if it wasn't face to face. Also the wording of "Not an enemy" was sooo dumb. Say you're a friend! Say you're family! "Not an enemy" makes her even less likely to trust you, because you aren't being anything reassuring to her right now

The game also tries way too hard to tug on the heart strings, and it doesn't work. I'm gonna bring up Evie here a bit although I'll do my best not to. I do not feel bad for Rose. As a long time fan and player of most games in this series, I can name more characters who have been through worse shit than Rose has than I can count on my fingers. Actually I will, this is my post, fuck it, feel free to skip the list

Sherry was orphaned at 12 and was infected with a virus that nearly killed her, then was held captive in a strange man's house for eleven years, that's 5 years of her adult life still in captivity, before gaining a false semblance of freedom by being forced to become an agent, on one of her missions was kidnapped and tortured for 6 months, and oh yeah her body stopped aging at 20

Manuela was infected with a disease that should have killed her, lost her mother at 5 years old, nearly died several times during DC, became an orphan at 16, and was locked up after being rescued because she still had powers and was still infected. Despite controlling her powers, she was not given any freedom, because the government was cautious (KEEP THIS IN MIND FOR LATER)

Claire, Chris, and Leon are all orphans, Leon definitely when he was a child, Chris and Claire it's up to speculation. The three of them went through the horrors of the early games as young adults, Claire only being 19.

Jill was kidnapped, brainwashed, and forced to become a murderous slave for a genocidal maniac who she sacrificed her life to try to kill

Ashley was kidnapped multiple times, infected, and had her body taken control of by another person against her will

Natalia was an orphan (WHO WATCHED HER PARENTS DIE BTW) who was isolated from her peers, kidnapped, tormented for months by Alex, experienced hallucinations, had an adult woman try to take control of her body, and despite having seemed safe, apparently is still suffering ptsd or worse from what Alex did to her. She was adopted by a normal family and treated like a normal child, but she was still safely monitored and there's no indication she had a normal social life (KEEP THIS IN MIND FOR LATER)

Lisa Trevor was kidnapped at age 14, became an orphan when her parents were killed and she was infected with a virus, and went mad as she was continually tortured and experimented on until her death at 35 years old

Alexia and Alfred Ashford were given a life of comfort, but were still an experimental vanity project that their father enacted because he was in love with one of his ancestors, which they learned of at only 12 years old. Alexia willingly infected herself at age 12, Alfred was forced large political power at that age, and went insane without his sister there to support him, and when Alexia woke up from cryo sleep, the first thing she saw was her brother's dead body

Eveline was created to be a bioweapon. She was never given a choice as to if she had these powers. She was younger than her ten-year-old physical appearance, because she was aged up artificially, she was tortured, abused, forced to kill people with powers she couldn't control, and denied any source of comfort despite having the wants and needs of a child, and she was murdered by a man who called her a little bitch as she cried and lamented why the world seemed to hate her.

Now. What struggles does Rose have? Why, her dad is dead and kids at school call her a freak, of course! Now Isn't that sad? Don't you feel terrible for her and can't wait for her to pick off Eveline, who was taunting her, like a bitter child would?

Also yes you read that right, kids at school. Rosemary Winters, who shows physical proof in public that she is an actively infected person who cannot control her abilities, is allowed to attend public school and receive childish bullying. Un-fucking-realistic. Such bullshit.

Like I said, they lay on the pathos thick. There is an entire section, with no real gameplay, as you walk around the house from the beginning of 8 as you get to hear Ethan's voice and Rose's commentary on things her dad said because wahhh isn't it sad that Ethan died? They tell you how Rose feels through dialogue instead of allowing the character to feel for the obviously forced pathos. The letter was also written way too on the nose to try and tug at some heart strings. The ending where Rose talks to Ethan (while still HILARIOUSLY obstructing his face) goes on for too long and not a single line isn't something sad/sweet/sappy to try and get in the audience's feelings. (Also Rose bringing a physical object of Ethan's ring out of a MOLD MIND PALACE makes no sense but w/e)

Okay but is the gameplay at least good? Nah not that either. You get two weapons, a handgun and a shotgun, the occasional pipe bomb, and Rose's freezing powers. Now I know that this is a DLC and of course there doesn't have to be a lot of content, but this was pathetic. There are only two real puzzles either. The playthrough I watched was 3 hours long. The only part I thought was really scary was running from the Mia mannequins, but gameplay-wise they're like super easy to defeat.

The story jumps forward 16 years for no real reason. We don't get any insight into this new world Rose is living in, 16 years from the current furthest point in the timeline, we meet no new characters except for K who we can't really assume told us anything real since he was an illusion. This story was unnecessary, a mess, none of the gameplay was spectacular, and it went out of its way to torture and villainize a character who had already suffered in life, not even giving her peace in death. Really shitty DLC, really bad time.

#sid rants #sid bitches #shadows of rose

[ashleysmessyjourney]

Ten Weeks

Since it's been ten whole weeks of me doing this challenge, I feel that today is a special day! I hosted an AMA where I answered my follower's questions below.

How has messing your diapers impacted your life in ways that you didn’t anticipate?

It’s made my home a little bit stinkier for sure! I’ve been using more candles to cover up the scent that should only be in a bathroom, but now I’m messing basically anywhere at home. Another thing I didn’t anticipate would be just how much water I have to drink to ensure my poops remain uniform and normal.

Learning to mess on a schedule ensures that I won’t have any accidents unless I eat bad food so I’ve been doing my best to eat better. Because of that, I’ve been losing a little weight here and there, doing wonders for my general mood and overall happiness. I haven’t really noticed any other distinct changes or impacts because I’ve been bladder dependent on diapers for years now.

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How do you handle the smells of a messy diaper?

Since I mainly mess at home, I don’t mind the smell. I take out the trash every morning after messing and because I don’t let it sit around my place, I don’t have to worry about any smells. I do like to keep some candles lit in case I have an unexpected guest show up out of the blue. A little birdy told me that activated charcoal pills helps to neutralize the smell of poop, so I’ll be looking into that more and see if it’s something that would help me. I’m a bit hesitant to start taking supplements and other pills, though.

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What’s your bowel control on scale of 1 to 10?

I’d say it’s a solid 8 out of 10. Those times when I couldn’t really control it made me realize that I’m no longer fully in control, probably because my body knows that diapers = safety. Since I’m in them all the time, maybe it’s starting to get used to a pattern. I’m not actively training to lose total and complete control over my bowels; this challenge is solely based out of messing 24/7 and to not use the potty for anything. However, I have noticed my control start to weaken a little bit, so who knows? We’ll just have to wait and see! =D

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What about messy accidents in public or in your car?

I do my best to avoid messing my diaper in public, especially around people. If I absolutely have to, then I’d use my car as a last resort safe space. I’m still really shy about changing in my car (even though I’ve done it before loads of times). If I do have an accident or use my diaper intentionally while in the car, I go right home because I’d be terrified of changing in my car (the windows aren’t tinted and honestly need to be at this point) and I can’t exactly go to a public restroom and change there. It'd be hard to clean myself and by the time I’d get into the stall, the mush on my tush would have spread all around, increasing the chances of it leaking out.

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How long do you stay in your messy diaper now?

I don’t really like staying in a messy diaper because of what it can do to your skin. Poop is loaded with bacteria and germs, so letting that stay in constant contact with your skin just isn’t a good idea. This challenge wasn’t born out of a fetish, but out of a desire to see what doing this long term would be like and so far, it hasn’t been as bad as I thought it’d be. Since the last update, I’ve been using my new vibrator (broke the motor in the head on the last one lol) to help me associate pleasure with messing my diapers and it’s worked a little too well tbh.

Since I don’t like staying in a soggy diaper from the night before, I’ll often change into a fresh, lower capacity diaper for breakfast and my morning messing session. After I finish breakfast, it doesn’t take much time for my bowels to tell me that it’s time to do something special and slightly smelly in my diaper. I’m on this routine of messing that actually fits perfectly in my schedule, letting me go about my day as if I wasn’t shitting my diapers on the reg haha.

When I get the feeling that it’s coming, I like settling down on my legs, letting my diapered butt plop against the floor. My diaper would typically be wet at this time, so without going into every little excruciating detail, I get myself in the mood by pushing the vibrator against the front of my diaper, slowly but surely pushing it further and further down until it’s resting on my other hole (the one that y’all like to hear about so much :P). Pushing the vibrator against that hole makes it easier to let that hole open up, and once my body feels those rhythmic sensations, it knows that it’s time to do the deed and with a tiny bit of coaxing, the inside of my pure, white, and slightly soggy diaper gets turned into a brown, stinky mess in no time at all.

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What positions do you like to mess in?

While my fav position has been squatted down or on my hands and knees, I’ve been experimenting with messing standing up. Sure, the mess is more spread out and settles more towards the front of my diaper than I’m comfortable with, but once I’m done soiling my once pure diaper, all I have to do is push the diaper down like I’m taking my shorts off. I try to push the back of the diaper inside my crack as I pull it down to try and remove as much of the mess as I can. I love using the Pampers Sensitive wipes mainly because of how soft they feel. I’ve tried budget brand wipes and they felt almost abrasive for some reason. I won’t use something that’s not soft down there for obvious reasons.

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What have I done to make it easier?

I’ve been eating better which makes my poops more uniform and predictable. Eating bad food and junk food means irregular poops, making it harder to clean. I have to also drink more water and eat less salty foods to stay hydrated and to keep my system purring. This in turn makes me use more diapers because I have to ensure that I never get dehydrated. Dehydration leads to lower quality poops which makes it harder to clean.

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How much easier is it to mess than compared to the beginning?

It's definitely gotten easier! It's been more of me overcoming a mental block and getting used to doing the deed every morning than a physical barrier. I figured if I can get used to wearing soggy diapers all the time, that I can get used to wearing messy diapers every morning, too, even if it's just for a short period of time. It's really all about having and nurturing a proper mindset. Once you know that you're going to have to make your diaper all messy, you can either fight it or accept it and find ways to make it easier; that's what I did and what I'm still doing.

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What do you think about all that time left on the timer?

Anyone want to make it a full year of messing my diapers for me? Haha, I’m just kidding… (okay maybe not but still lol) As of today, October 3, 2021, I’m going to be messing my diapers until May 7, 2022. I started this challenge near the end of July (I think it was July 25th, but Tumblr doesn’t keep track of timestamps), so if enough time for three months was to be added on, I’d be doing this challenge for a full year. It’s almost frightening to think I’ll be doing something so dirty for so long, but it’s also exciting at the same time. I can’t imagine what my bowel control would be like by then. Do you think I’d just squat down and push at the smallest signal that I might have something in my poop chute? Or do you think my body wouldn’t give me any signals until it was too late to rush to the potty? I think it’d be interesting to find out, especially since I don’t really have a choice but to stay diapered all the time.

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Are some diapers better for messing or are the ones that are the best for wetting & hold the most liquid still preferable for messing?

I’ve been using the InControl Essentials and the Rearz Pink Pirates to do my morning messes in. I love the soft, European plastic of the InControls and I know the pink pirates have good enough leak guards to hold it all in. I like messing in Betterdrys as well but I like saving those for bedwetting or for when I go out in public because I have absolute trust with those. So long as a diaper has tall leak guards, then I'd feel comfortable messing in it. It's not like I'm staying in it for a long time, either, so I don't have to worry about that. However, if I do have to stay in a messy diaper for a while, you better believe that I'm wearing one with tall leak guards.

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Do you have anything else to say?

Once I accepted that this challenge was here to stay, I had to figure out ways to make it fun and keep it exciting which is where the vibrator came into play. It’s been a huge help in keeping me motivated because I’ve been doing my hardest to only use it when I’m messing myself. Sure, using my vibrator when I’m in a clean diaper is fine and all, but only using it when I’m messy or in the middle of messing myself helps establish the link between pleasure and pooping myself. Cumming in the middle of pooping is really hard to time right, but it feels absolutely downright naughty when you get it right.

I talked about how certain poses when done in public would make me feel uncertain about my control back there, especially the one where I squat down, in my last update. Just to be safe, I’ve been trying to clench down even just a little bit (trying to clench is super hard, too) because when I squat down or even get in a similar position, my body just knows what to do: let my bowels relax for pooping. Before I started this challenge, I used to be so hesitant and nervous when I felt my stomach/bowels say that I had to go poop when I was in public, even with a diaper on, but now that I'm getting used to it all, I know that I’m totally 100% protected from anything my body wants to push out. That’s made my life a bit easier, all things considered.

Once again, I’m sincerely grateful for the diapers and toys that have been used to add more time onto this timer! The diapers sent to me have really helped with the increased cost of using my diapers for #2.

[raging-fan-human]

Skip this post if you don't want to read my rambling in regards to this relationship I'm in. I'm feeling horrible and jealous, and horrible that I feel jealous and I think this may constitute labeling me as a bad person, so more on that below the cut

I'm crazy, right? I'm in this relationship thing right now. We haven't put a label on it, but we have confirmed that we are exclusive. (Thanks to a minor freak out that I had) we both made it clear that neither of us are seeing other people. The thing is: he used to date someone who I'm not very close friends with, but we know enough about each other and we take a lot of the same classes and are in the same clubs, so we talk a bit. We were closer friends at the beginning of last fall before I found my main group. Anyways. This guy I'm with (let's call him E) used to date this person I know (let's call them J). E told me they broke up and it was messy. I don't know how long ago, but it was recent enough that J still had a few things left at E's apartment. I don't know the specifics, but there was an assault committed at some point by J. I don't feel it's my place to ask, so I'm not getting into it. I am pretty good friends with J's roommate who recognized E when I showed her a picture of him and said she thought J was friends with him. Anyways, I'm not sure if they're friends still. All common sense tells me they wouldn't be just based on what little info I do have about the breakup. And all of this just boils down to me feeling horrible about feeling a little jealous. Like, I would prefer not to use the word jealous, but it's really the only word I can think of to describe this. E just sent me a selfie with J and told me that he took them to the hospital because J didn't have a ride and was having one of their lung episodes. And I feel horrible. Absolutely horrible that I feel even just a little upset and suspicious about this. For further context, E lives and goes to school an hour away from us. I don't know why he would've been near enough to give J a ride to the hospital in such a timely manner at 10 o'clock at night. God, I wish I didn't feel this way. Like, I know I would've done the same thing for someone, even if we didn't end things on great terms. But my brain just keeps over analyzing the fact that he was close enough to pick them up before things could get worse and still make it to the hospital in such a short amount of time. Like, I know J knows people here with cars. And I understand the whole comfort aspect of things, but people at our school have given J rides to the hospital when this has happened before. Fuck, I feel horrible for feeling upset about this. I'm not even sure I'm upset. But I know that I keep overanalyzing everything and it's making this uncomfortable and hot weight settle in my chest. I shouldn't feel this way about E helping someone out. Like, it's a serious fucking situation. And I feel so bad for feeling this way.

#I think I'm crazy #and this might make me a bad person #and i feel bad for feeling any sort of way about this other than concerned #i am concerned about j's wellbeing #ive seen this happen to them before #and i care about them #i just cant stop overthinking every tiny detail about this entire situation that i know to be true

[anakinh]

sw brotherhood ramblings (spoilers!)

okay so SW Brotherhood was really good. The plot was weak at times but the characterizations and character relationships (esp between Anakin and Obi Wan) is A+++. And isn’t that why we’re here? To read about the characters? It’s not called Star Wars: Good Plot (although the plot itself is fine enough)

I just finished it so I haven’t had time to stew, and I haven’t read anyone’s opinion on it or read much from the author with the exception of the acknowledgements (surprisingly informative) and one (1) tweet explaining that blitzball is from Final Fantasy X which is the most important piece of canonical Star Wars lore of all time. Anyway. Spoilers below the cut since I wrote a lot.

Overall I love it.

There were several weak spots, especially in the plot - for example, why did Obi Wan accept such a bad bargain in the first place? I guess he was desperate, but the investigation never would’ve worked with what he had. Ketar was also the weakest character imo. His descent into villainy is obviously supposed to mirror Anakin and I think also be a reference to the "angry young man without support or healthy emotional outlet” to “we’re all domestic terrorists” pipeline irl but it was very rushed and happened very quickly. Like this dude went from angry to terrorist in a few days? And we never really got to hear his Tragic Backstory until the trial, which didn’t help in his favour (although the nuance on how badly the Republic treated Cato Nemoidia was well done). It does, however, in a rushed way, show us how people exploit angry young men for terrible purposes, and how leaving them aside and assuming everything’s fine without affirming that you care or checking leads to terrible consequences which, hey, in this political environment probably helps. To be fair to Ruug, she did try at first before she got busy. Also the be fair to her she was only busy for a few days, but this whole thing took several days which, again, feels like it’s a bit too fast to be realistic. The final confrontation with Ketar was also quite heavy handed and messy, since Mill was narrating his emotions at every turn (we know he’s angry, thank you Mill, that’s been obvious for a while now) while Obi Wan and Anakin often talked to each other on the side... while Ketar was holding a detonator for a bomb and monologuing? Where did they have the time.

Another weak part is that imo it relies far too heavily on Anakin-related dramatic irony. Now, to be fair, what’s the clone wars without increasingly heavy handed Anakin-related dramatic irony? [deep sigh] It also mentions the memes a lot. Like, I get that technically Anakin is right and sand is, in fact, coarse and rough and irritating and it does, in fact, get everywhere, but every time you mention it I remember the meme and it makes things funny. Is this part supposed to be funny, Mike?

The golden, shining spotlight is the characterizations (barring Ketar) and the Anakin and Obi Wan relationship, though. And to a lesser extent the Anakin and Mill Alibeth relationship, which is adorable and Mill is the light of my life. Astonishingly, Obi Wan isn’t characterized as a perfect being who can do no wrong and Anakin isn’t characterized as a dumb impulsive idiot! I mean, don’t get me wrong, Anakin is both dumb and impulsive, but he’s also compassionate and caring and he loves so fiercely and he’s a genius who likes to fix things. And Obi Wan level-headed and eloquent but he also acknowledges mistakes he made with training Anakin (and he’s not gonna fix them, as we know) and he has blind spots he doesn’t consider. I have become so jaded with the way fandom portrays the two of them lmao. Even a tiny smidgen of Obi Wan not being perfect is enough to make me happy. Anakin’s relationship with his new arm is also nicely done. In the Prequels (specifically, in side notes) there was this very ableist idea given by George Lucas (and said to be believed by the Jedi Council) that his arm being cut off means that he is weaker in the Force due to the lack of midichlorians. Luckily, the Jedi Council never mentions this here and Anakin does have problems with his arm (understandable, it’s a new prosthetic) but he comes to accept it as a part of him and useful. What a breath of fresh air. Another very good reference to the difference between the more expressive TCW Anakin and the less expressive Prequels Anakin is the explicit note that Anakin puts on a monotone when he speaks to the Jedi. This ... fits. Anakin in TCW tends to be more expressive, Anakin in the Prequels is less, yes, but he sounds the most natural in the first 20 mins of Revenge of the Sith and when alone with Padme. It’s a very good tidbit to fill in.

Anakin and Obi Wan’s relationship is wonderfully done. They obviously care and love each other. The ways they work with each other, the ways the reign each other in, highlight their good parts and mitigate their bad, their slow acceptance that they’re equals now, both of them chilling out with regards to each other. The banter... it’s a great way to show them sliding into their Clone Wars relationship while acknowledging the friction (but care!) in AOTC. The way Obi Wan wishes Anakin was here to get him out of the mess because Anakin always manages to find a way but when Anakin shows up he immediately protests about having a plan that Anakin ruined. Anakin trusting Obi Wan to take care of himself and focusing instead on the bigger picture instead of his loved ones. Genuinely unprecedented for this boy, we love to see some growth. ([stares out into the distance])

Anakin and Mill are adorable, he’s always been good with kids (heavy...handed...Anakin-based...dramatic...irony....) and it shows in how he cares about her and encourages her to follow her heart. And he tells her that he’s learning from her and he does! He notes some things that he wished Obi Wan did for him and he does it for her! Genuinely so cute.

Obi Wan and Ruug... is probably something we should have more of. She seems like a rougher, more cynical version of Obi Wan - clearly meant to parallel him the same way Ketar parallels Anakin, except he could also see bits of Anakin in her. She’s also just a very cool character. Brave and good, but also cynical and pragmatic and hardened by war. We don’t get to see her interactions with Ketar as much, especially after he starts talking to Ventress, which is on purpose but still to both of their detriment. I also like how Ventress is more of a manipulator than a fighter here. Good to remember all of her skills, and good to remember that she also has reasons to dislike the Republic.

Side note, while I am talking about relationships: Anakin and Padme are so obviously in their Honeymoon Phase and it’s so funny. Obi Wan suspects but each time he’s like “are they... nah. No. I am going to think about something else.”

There are also some legit criticisms of the Jedi that I like being delivered. Like obviously they’re good, they’re trying to be good while the Republic is asking them to stray further from their vows, but lookat little Mill Alibeth pointing out that for a peacekeeping force, the Jedi place way too much value on their swords. Also Ventress pointed out some stuff but that’s was more in the manner of a creative use of the truth to make a better lie. It’s a well done piece of manipulation, certainly, but it’s not as impactful.

Lastly, author Mike Chen noted that he read the Revenge of the Sith novelization in his acknowledgements. Based and it shows and I love him for it. Literally bits in the narration that ties directly into that novel. The continuity of it all. [Chefs kiss].

#me.txt #sw brotherhood #sw brotherhood spoilers #okay that's it for now #I actually have a lot more on how it ties into the Revenge of the Sith novelization #especially with the burning furnace heart and the sun dragon #and the 'even stars die' mantra (fun fact: meant to be an informational trip by Obi Wan. Nice job there) #but it's been a while since i've read it and i honestly don't know if I really want to read it again #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #i had to hit post on this because it was making my computer wheeze

[daenqyu]

— doing their eyeliner at 12AM

includes: bakugou, kaminari, kirishima, and hawks

warnings: suggestive (LOTS of making out)

a/n: did i write this just because i love doing my eyeliner and i really want to sit on a guy’s lap while i do his???? maybe. but that’s none of your business 🙄☝️

bakugou katsuki

it’s canon that he wears eyeliner and even if it wasn’t,,, he’d still try it at least ONCE

in this case you had to ask him

well more like beg him 

“babe please, i promise i’ll make a good work!” 

“how? you suck at doing yours”

you scoff before punching his arm, making him let out a hiss as he glares at you

“i don’t you idiot, now can you shut up and stay still for a second?”

of course he ends up giving in bc come on, he’d do anything just to make you happy and if that meant letting you put makeup on him at 12AM because you thought he’d look ‘pretty’ then so be it

bakugou doesn’t voice out any of this though 

instead, he keeps complaining and even tickles your sides from time to time just to get on your nerves

“bakugou,” he frowns when his last name falls from your lips, not liking how it sounded at all. “stop fucking moving or i’ll stap your eye.”

“tch, stop telling me what to do, dumbass.”

but he does stop

after all, he didn’t really want you to get mad at him

he entertains himself by tapping his fingers against your thighs to the beat of the music playing from your speaker 

his touch makes butterflies flutter in your stomach, but you ignore them and continue to draw on his eyelids 

you decide to keep it simple; just a very defined line that’s not too thick, but enough so that it’s visible 

“okay, i’m done”

after you put the eyeliner down and notice bakugou’s eyes were focused on you, you completely forget how to breathe

the black makes his vermilion eyes look even brighter and in contrast with his blonde hair...he simply looks beautiful 

he takes your silence as a bad sign and thinks you probably did fuck up, but when he looks at himself in his phone camera, the makeup looks fine to him so,

why the heck weren’t you saying anything?

“what is it? do you not like it?”

didn’t like it? couldn’t he see you were practically salivating bc of him?

“uh no, you look really good actually,” you look away before continuing, not trusting yourself to look at him while you said the next words. “you look pretty”

bakugou is a little surprised by the compliment, but he wastes no time before teasing you

he leans in, and once he’s close enough, he takes your chin so you’re looking directly at him

a smirk takes over his lips when your eyes avoid his

“what’s got you so shy?” he teases

“i’m not”

“then look at me” 

you didn’t want him to know how big of an effect he had on you, so you turn your head around and face him, even tho you’re flustered beyond belief

his eyes slowly look down at your lips and then back to your eyes, making you a little anxious as to what could happen, but bakugou decides to drags it out

just to have some fun of his own

he places one of his hands on the back of your neck, gently pulling you forward until your noses are almost touching 

the other one caresses your cheek softly, then his fingers slowly trace out your jaw, eyes still stuck on your own 

it’s infuriating really

the way his fingers carefully touch your lips, applying a bit more pressure on his thumb that’s touching your lower lip so he can open your mouth ever so slightly 

the way he acts as if he has all the time in the world, as if he could do this all day

and you know he can

but you don’t 

so you lean in to close the distance with a deep kiss

it’s messy and sloppy; his tongue clashing with your own as his hands roam all over your body to feel you

you end up sitting on his lap, lips still connected and hands all over each other

you pull away, chest heaving as rough breaths leave your mouth and smirk when you notice bakugou is looking at you 

his hair is messy thanks to your gripping and the eyeliner fits him so nicely

for a moment you almost can’t believe he’s your boyfriend 

“have i ever told you how handsome i think you are?” you ask him with a goofy smile on your face, fingers playing with the ends of his hair

“hm, once or twice but you can always remind me again” 

“let me just show you”

he quirks an eyebrow at your implication, licking his lips as his eyes darken

“oh? bold, aren’t we now?”

“learned from the best”

“fuck yeah you did”

to keep it short, you guys didn’t sleep a lot that night 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

kaminari denki

he was DEFINITELY the one that came up with the idea

something just tells me he probably spends 90% of his time scrolling through tiktok 

and if he feels like it, maybe he’ll even posts some of his own

so it’s no surprise that he’s caught up with all the trends and challenges

and even dances (which surprisingly, he’s damn good at)

i’m guessing you guys already know what i’m trying to get at

he had seen way too many tiktoks of couples doing their partner’s eyeliner and he thought it was the coolest thing ever

not only was he curious to see how the makeup would look on him, but he also just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you

he had been thinking about it for a few weeks now, but couldn’t seem to find the perfect moment to ask you

until one night you guys were having a sleepover on your dorm and a video of said trend pops up on his ‘fyp’

you’re cuddling, your head against his chest as his fingers trace random pattern on your back, when he brings it up

“hey babe?”

you hum in response, eyes fluttering open to look up at kaminari

he smiles before pecking your lips, thinking about how beautiful you look all cuddled up next to him

“do you think you could do my eyeliner real quick?”

the question takes you by surprise,

tho you’re used to yout boyfriend being quite spontaneous and random at times, so you don’t really question it

instead, you nod and move out of the bed to get the makeup product, which sits on your vanity

“where should i sit?”

he asks you once you walk over to him, but you simply smile before taking a seat on his lap

you position your legs on either side of his hips so you’re in a straddling position and kaminari almost forgets all about the makeup because of this

but can you really blame him?

you just look so perfect like this

he has to physically stop himself from flipping you over and kissing you all he wants

and you giggle when you notice a pout forming on his face

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing”

“you sure?”

“yeah, just hurry up and do it so i can kiss you”

you laugh, “yes sir”

when you start, he can’t help but giggle at the feeling and you have to hold his face in place so he would stop moving

he gets used to it after a while 

almost even falls asleep from how soft your other hand felt on his cheek

since you know kaminari likes to be a little extra, you attempt to draw a lighting bolt right below one of the lines

it’s not the best, but it looks decent enough so you decide to leave it there

but when you finish, you feel like something is missing; like it could be better

then you have the fantastic idea to use eyeshadow

kaminari feels you getting up from his lap and he whines 

“where are you going?”

“hold on, i’m feeling inspired right now”

“okay?”

he doesn’t understand what you mean at all, but he lets you be

you take a random eyeshadow palette and make sure it has a nice black color on it

then you reposition yourself on his lap

“open your eyes and look up”

he does as he’s told and you proceed to put some more black on his lower lash line and waterline (not too much)

when kaminari doesn’t feel your touch on his face anymore, he looks down at you with a smile, which inevitably makes you smile too

“how do i look?”

you chuckle lowly, examining his eyes once more 

he always looks gorgeous, but the eyeliner just...makes him hit different

and the fact he’s wearing one of his chokers doesn’t make it any better

he looks straight out of alt tiktok

“you, my beautiful boyfriend, look very attractive”

he smirks at your teasing tone, “oh? is that so?”

“i’m afraid it is” 

he doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror because all he could think about was kissing you

and that’s what he does

he holds your face with both of his hands before pulling you in to kiss you

his lips feel hot and so does your whole body when he grips your hips

after a few more kisses, he pulls away and looks at you with excited eyes

“can i do yours now?”

you chuckle at his cuteness before nodding and letting him draw on your face

it’s not perfect, but hey! baby tried his best and that’s all that matters

besides he looks so proud of himself, telling you how cute you look and how lucky he is to call you his

“you look soooo pretty! i mean you always do, of course, but you look even prettier which i didn’t know was humanly possible yet here you are”

he ends up going on a rant about all the things he loves about you and you’re pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes by the time he ends

“i love you”

“i love you too, my pretty girl”

kirishima eijirou:

this man has absolutely tried on eyeliner at least once in his life

has it been good? probably not

but he likes it and thinks it looks very cool

sometimes you do yours and kirishima lives for it

he likes the way it compliments the shape of your eyes and how happy you get when you get the line right from the first try

whenever you’re getting ready and he’s with you, he doesn’t take his eyes off you

a smile spreading across his lips when he sees you bite down on your lower lip in concentration, your fingers skillfully tracing the marker on your eyelids 

and that’s when the idea pops in his head

he ponders on it for a while tho, not sure how to bring it up or if you’d be up to do it

it takes him a few days before he asks you and when he does, he looks all nervous 

you’re both hanging out in his dorm cuddling as you just finished watching a movie

a yawn leaves your lips and you stretch your arms, looking at the time on your phone screen

it reads 12:33 AM 

you hum, moving your head up to look at kirishima from your place on his lap

he looks down at you and offers you a sweet smile before placing a quick kiss on your lips

“i should get going,” he pouts at your words, his hold on your waist tightening so you couldn’t stand up and you giggle, turning around completely so you’re facing him

you wrap your hands around his neck to pull him closer, just until your lips touch

you teasingly smirk at him before kissing his cheek and he frowns

“what? don’t you like my kisses?” you pout at him 

kirishima scoffs at your stupid question and grabs your jaw gently, looking you in the eyes

“stop being a tease”

you roll your eyes, “you’re so impatient”

nevertheless you comply and connect your lips with his, your hands now slightly massaging his nape

he hums against your mouth, prompting you to keep going

before things can go any further tho, you pull away 

he huffs childishly, not liking the way you kept leaving him hanging

“i seriously should get going,” you press one last peck on his lips. “don’t wanna risk getting caught here” 

“then just stay the night”

“baby i already did yesterday”

“uhh your point?”

you chuckle, “good try babe”

you attempt to stand up but once again your boyfriend stops you from doing so

you open your mouth to ask him what’s up 

but he beats you to it

“actually, i wanted to ask you something” he’s looking away from you and that makes you a little nervous, not having a clue about what he wanted to talk about 

you nod, silently telling him to keep going

“could you...do my eyeliner?” a blush creeps onto his neck, his eyes still not meeting yours and you think he looks adorable. before you can answer him, he talks again. “but i mean only if you want to cause’ i know it’s kinda hard so it’s okay if you don’t but i think i’d be really cool and-”

“oh my god eijirou it’s okay!” he finally shuts up and looks at you with big eyes

“it is?”

“hm, i’m more than happy to do it,” he lets out a sigh after hearing your comforting words and you kiss his nose. “besides you’ll look super manly”

if kirishima was already head over heels for you, then now he just wanted to straight up marry you

you got up and started to look around in kirishima’s bathroom drawer since sometimes you left some of your stuff behind just in case

luckily, the eyeliner was there

after you took it, you sat in front of kirishima once again, your legs crossed and you moved closer to him

he kept still and let you get comfortable, looking down at your lips briefly when you got a bit too close

“close your eyes”

and so he did

like i mentioned before, you’re a bit experienced with this since you practice on yourself quite a lot

so it doesn’t take you too much time

the line you drew was a bit thicker than normal but not too much

and instead of doing a straight line, you did it a bit more upwards

“and done!” you say happily while retracting your hand from kirishima’s face

he opens his eyes and offers you a grin

the action is small and meaningless, but it somehow makes you nervous

the makeup really suits him and you can’t help but admire him for a while 

by admiring i mean shamelessly checking him out

of course he notices it

and he teases you about it

“does it look good?”

“yeah,” you answer while looking away, trying to hide how flustered you are. “really good”

he hums before placing his hands on your waist and sitting you down on his lap, making you look at him with a surprised expression on your face

one of his hands stays on your waist while the other travels up to hold your face

you let out a heavy breath at his actions, feeling your heart thumping against your chest

his fingers caress your cheek softly and you lean in to his touch, loving the way he was always so gentle with you

without any warning, kirishima smashes his lips against your own

your eyes widen for a moment, not expecting this at all, but you close them when you feel his tongue touching your lower lip

you open your mouth and let him take the lead, a whimper coming out of you when you feel his hand wrap around your neck, pressing slightly

he pulls away with a smirk, both of your chests heaving from the lack of air

“still wanna leave?”

you sigh while moving your head, yet a smile was evident on your face, “i guess i can stay”

“atta girl”

takami keigo (hawks):

another one who canonically wears eyeliner !!

unlike bakugou (who does his eyeliner to cover up the gap between his mask and eyes), keigo does his solemnly because he thinks it looks good on him

wait, let me rephrase that

he knows it looks good on him

it’s part of his morning routine, he does it every time before going to work

so sometimes while you’re both getting ready for the day, you see him doing it

you open the bathroom door sleepily, barely managing to keep your eyes open

you walk over to the sink next to keigo’s and splash water on your face to wake yourself up

beside you, keigo smiles at your antics

he thinks you look the cutest in the mornings, especially when you’re grumpy

feeling his eyes on your figure, you turn around to face him with a raised brow

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“like what?”

“like i have something on my face”

he laughs at your attitude and walks over to place a kiss on your cheek

his lips feel warm against your cheek and it makes you smile

“good morning to you too” his says teasingly

“morning birdy” your tone matches his and he rolls his eyes playfully before pulling away from you to finish doing his eye makeup

you brush your teeth quickly while thinking about what you were gonna have for breakfast, and whether keigo had time to eat with you or not

once you finish, you place your toothbrush on its place and look over to your right

only to be met with the number two hero doing his eyeliner

in one hand he holds a feather of his against his eyelid, as if to help him do a straight line, and with the other he holds the actual makeup product

he has a concentrated look on his face, his brows slightly furrowed

and you look at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes

he looks so effortlessly beautiful

his golden locks are messy, yet perfectly in place and his wings rest by his side

he has his hero costume on, except for his coat

meaning his muscular arms are in full display for you to see

you don’t realize you’re staring until keigo finally finishes the second eye, and puts down the eyeliner

he smirks at you through the mirror and you look away, embarrassment clear on your face 

“come on, i made us breakfast”

instead of teasing you, like you thought he would, he simply grabs your hand and leads you to the dining table

your heart swells for the man and you look at the two plates in awe, “you did this?”

“is it so hard to believe?”

you roll your eyes before turning around and kissing him, a soft “thank you” leaving your lips as you pull away

that morning you can’t help but keep stealing glances at your boyfriend’s flawless eyeliner

and later that night, when you’re both cuddled up in each other’s arms  watching a movie, you get the sudden brilliant idea

“hey babe, can i do your eyeliner?”

keigo doesn’t even question you, he just nods before pressing a kiss to your neck and you giggle happily

you stand up to get the eyeliner from your shared bathroom and once you return, you take a seat right in front of him

“do you even know what you’re doing?” 

“shut up, i do my makeup too, you know?”

keigo laughs, “i’m just teasing baby”

“you’re mean”

he leans in towards you, pulling you closer by your hips until his lips hover over yours

unconsciously, your eyes look down at his lips, wondering whether he was gonna kiss you or not

but being the little shit he is, keigo doesn’t 

“you should hurry up,” his lips are still inches away from yours, but he doesn’t plan on closing the gap any time soon. “i wanna finish the movie”

this fucker

you clear your throat and move away from him, enough so that you can actually do the makeup, but his hands stay on your hips

you try your best to do it the exact same way he does it

a sharp, straight line that covers part of his outer v and also a small portion of his inner corner

giving his eyes a cat like shaped form

to add your own touch, you draw two small hearts on both sides of his cheekbones 

“m’kay, you can open your eyes now”

and when he does, your breath literally hitches in your throat

of course it’s not the first time you’ve seen him wearing eyeliner

but your faces are still close and his amber eyes are stuck on yours and you just feel like you’re about to explode

your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by keigo and he smirks 

“i take it you like how it looks?” his tone is flirty and it makes you snap from your trance

you smile at him, softly tracing the two hearts with your fingers, “hm, you look lovely”

“oh really?”

“yeah”

“not as lovely as you, i bet”

and before you can even disagree with him, he presses his lips against yours

you let out a soft moan when he moves you so you’re sitting on his lap and his tongue explores your mouth ever so passionately

keigo takes his sweet time kissing you, taking in every little sound you make and the way your hips slowly move against his thigh

when you pull away, your lips are swollen and you have some spit coating them

which is enough to make keigo go crazy, but before actually doing something, he takes the eyeliner on his hand

you furrow your eyebrows at his action

“what are you doing?”

“well it’s my turn now”

“why do you oh so suddenly want to do my eyeliner?”

he smiles, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “because i wanna see how it’ll look when i make you cry it off”

your eyes widen at his words, but you make no attempt to stop him

keigo kept his promise and he indeed made you cry all of your eyeliner off 😁👍🏼

#bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha oneshots #bnha fluff #bakugou x reader #kaminari x reader #kirishima x reader #hawks x reader #mha imagines #mha oneshots #mha fluff #bnha smut #mha headcanons #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #kaminari denki #kirishima eijirou #takami keigo #bnha hawks #bnha #mha

[scuttling]

Daddy's Home

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 3,388 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dom/sub, Daddy kink, Oral sex, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Anal sex, Spit kink, Come sharing, Breeding kink, Dirty talk, Aftercare, This is legitimately so filthy Summary: Aaron has been out of town for ten days, and when he finally gets home, you’re both desperate to make up for lost time. *Requested by @arsonhotchner Link to A03 or read below! Aaron has been out of town for ten days. Ten. Days. It’s misery.

You’re usually completely understanding when he has to take a case, because his job is important, and you know you have his undivided attention when he returns. You don’t have children, you’re fine staying by yourself, so most of the time it’s a minor inconvenience—ruined plans here, a postponed date night there—and nothing too pressing. And the sex is always great when he gets back.

This time, it’s different. Three back-to-back cases and a delayed flight later, and he’s finally on his way home. You’ve spoken every night since he left, and he has sounded increasingly more tired, more worn out; you can’t wait to be in his arms, warm and content in bed.

Before that, though, you both have other needs that will have to be met, because you mutually decided not to masturbate while he was gone, and you’re both feeling very... pent up.

Usually, you’d tease him while he was away, texting and sending pictures, maybe a video, all in good fun, but this isn’t the time for sexy texts or teasing or lingerie. You are both desperate, aching for each other, wild with need physically and emotionally; his touch anchors you, your touch anchors him, and right now you are both lost at sea, bobbing offshore, so close but so far away.

He will be home within the hour, so you do what any good girl would do: take a hot bath, prepare your holes, lay down a blanket in front of the door, and kneel on it and wait for Aaron to come home.

You exist to serve him, to please him, to be used by him, to make him feel good—and because making you feel good makes him feel good, you receive everything you give back tenfold. That’s the part most people don’t understand, but you and Aaron are on the same wavelength, always; you know he will need this, and he knows you will need this, and he knows you will be ready for him.

When he opens the door, sees you waiting, pretty and perfect and bare, he exhales, and all the tension leaves his body in a wave of relief. He sets his bags down, takes off his shoes, and then gets down on the blanket with you, presses one very controlled kiss to your mouth.

“Baby girl.” His voice is rough with everything he’s not saying, and you nod, press your forehead against his, because you feel it too.

“Daddy. I want to give you whatever you need,” you tell him, your breath on his lips. “I’m ready for anything, please tell me how I can serve you, daddy.” He swallows hard at your admission, knows exactly what you mean.

“Ready for anything, sweet girl? Turn over and let me see.” You obey—of course you do—and lay flat on your stomach so he can see that you’re wearing your plug properly. It’s not cutesy, just simple black silicone with a ring at the end that he can slip his finger into when it’s time to pull it out; he doesn’t put his finger through it now, just palms your ass, spreads it a little, and admires your handiwork. “Good girl, getting your ass ready for daddy. Do you want me to fuck it?” he asks, leaning in to brush your hair away from your ear. His voice gives you goosebumps, chills.

“I want you to do whatever will please you, daddy.” It’s the right thing to say, and it earns you a slightly harder kiss when he turns you on your back.

“That’s right, sweetheart, you do. Kind, loving girl. You want to please daddy with your body. It’s your purpose.” You lick your lips, and you can feel your eyes getting heavy already.

“Yes, daddy, it’s my purpose. Which hole would you like to fill, daddy?”

“First,” he says, and you wait for more, but it doesn’t come. You furrow your brow, confused, and he leans in and places a kiss on your forehead. “Which hole would I like to fill first.” He guides you to sit up, then puts his strong arms around you, lifts you up and carries you to bed, sets you on the edge. “Tonight, angel, daddy is going to breed you full of come to make up for the last ten days I’ve been away. I’m going to fill your pretty mouth, and then your sweet pussy, and then your tight ass, until I’m leaking out of you. If I’m not done coming by that point, I’ll just keep fucking it into you anyway.”

You whimper. You can’t imagine you’ll be coherent for all of that, but it makes your pussy ache and throb when you think about it. He’s going to be so good to you.

“On your knees, baby.” You slide off the bed, sink to them, and he points to the wall closest to you, the one with the full-length mirror against it. “Over there, back against the wall.” You crawl where he wants you, kneel and wait, and he makes his way over, pulls the mirror up beside you so you’d have to turn your head to look at it.

He unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants, and pushes them down; you open your mouth, because you always open your mouth when presented with daddy’s cock, and then he puts his hands gently on your head and just says watch.

It’s hard to watch without being able to move your head, and you can’t move your head because he’s slowly pumping into your mouth, but you make sure to keep your eyes on the mirror as best you can. Daddy will understand, as long as you try.

“Oh, fuck. So good for me, sweet girl, watching yourself be used by daddy—does it feel good?”

You press your hands hard against his thighs and moan around his length as it strokes over your tongue, the best you can do when he’s inching his way toward the back of your throat; he knows what you want to say, though, how good it feels to be filled, how you know you’re special because you’re the only person in the world Aaron feels this comfortable with, the only one he’s ever shown this side of himself to.

“Yes, baby. I’m going to come fast, since I’ve been without you for so long; we’ll take a break, and cuddle, and when I’m hard again I’ll come in your pussy. You’re going to be filled up soon, bred full of me, full of babies and come. You earned it, waiting so patiently for me to get home, waiting by the door open and ready.” He moves faster, but less deep, caresses your cheeks to feel the way they hollow and then bulge while he fucks your mouth.

When he comes, you both moan, sounds of pleasure and contentment; you don’t swallow right away, hold his come in your mouth instead, and when he pulls out you lose a little, dribbling down your chin, mixed with spit and clinging to your skin. Aaron gets down on one knee, swipes a thumb over it and licks it away.

“Perfect, messy girl. You can swallow for daddy in one second, but first I want you to open up and show me.” It’s an easy request, one you expected; when he sees your mouth full of him, he groans, exhales, takes your face in his hands and tips your head back so you swallow it. “Good girl. We’ll have to find other ways to keep your mouth full throughout the night; I’ll think of something.”

He helps you to your feet, slides the mirror against the wall, and lays you back on the bed while he takes off the rest of his clothes; watching him undress is soothing, when you’re so worked up, the slip and slide of fabric over his skin. He climbs on top of you, solid and warm, and wraps his arms around you, tips you both so you’re laying on your sides.

“I missed you so, so much.” You breathe against his lips, hands skimming up the length of his back. “Being without you for that long is torture.” He smiles softly, kisses your mouth.

“Unfortunately, I was responsible for stopping some actual torture, but I agree. It was extremely difficult, and I’d be happy to never do that again.” He kisses you some more, soft and sensual slides of tongue, brings his hand between your thighs and teases you where you’re slick and hot. “Not going to stop touching you for the next three days, okay?”

“Perfect,” you sigh, curling your leg over his hip to give him more room, and he presses two fingers inside you, moves his other broad palm to your ass and squeezes.

“Such a good girl, soft and wet for me. I can’t wait to sink inside you, fill you up so deep, come right in your womb.” You grip his hair tightly, get close for kisses, panting, and he thrusts his fingers more quickly inside you, then moves the hand on your ass to wiggle the plug a little.

“Oh, fuck. Daddy please.” It’s impossible to say what feels better; when you’ve gone without him, without an orgasm, for ten days, every sensation is so heightened. Your whole body is alight with pleasure. “Please can I come, please make me come.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ll make you come. Daddy will take care of you; don’t I always?” He gets his arm around your waist, urges you to scoot up a bit, then moves his hand to the plug again, slowly removes it, replaces it with two fingers.

The sounds you make while he fucks you with both hands are a breathless combination of whimpers and moans; your body doesn’t know how to react, wants to press against both. You wrap your arms around his back, digging your nails into his skin, and he constantly alternates between shushing you and kissing you until you come trembling against his hands.

“Mmm, god, daddy.” You nuzzle against his throat, his cheek, delighting in the scrape of his five o’clock shadow against your face, and he whispers your name, presses his lips to your shoulder. When you reach a hand down, he is hard against his stomach, and you pull back to look into his eyes. “What next, daddy?”

“Hmm. Think I want you with your ass up high while I pound into your pussy; it’s so wet for me now, I can’t resist.” He slides his fingers out, presses the plug back into your ass, moves away from you so you can get into the position he wants; he reaches forward for a pillow and puts it under your head with a caress, and you wrap your arms around it, get comfortable. It probably won’t take long for him to spill inside you, but your eyes are heavy, and you’re hot all over, and you just want to lay still and be used. Luckily for you, that’s exactly what he’s looking for.

You’re at the foot of the bed, hips up high, feet sticking out over the edge, and Aaron comes up to stand behind you, puts his hands on your ass, and thrusts fully inside.

“Yes, baby, good baby girl. You feel so good. Won’t be long before I come, and you’ll be sloppy for me, leaking. You have to try to keep it inside for me, I’ll help you; if you want to be full of my babies, you’ll have to keep it inside.”

His body is hard against your ass as he slams in again and again, filling you just right, making your toes curl; you moan into your pillow, clutch it tightly as he praises you, endless compliments about your pretty, wet pussy and how good your ass feels in his hands.

“Thank you, daddy, I’m happy it-it pleases you, daddy.” He moves faster, digs his fingers into your flesh, humps his hips hard, and you whine, moan his name, start bucking your hips back. “Oh, please, please, breed me, daddy. Fill me with babies, so close, daddy.” He groans, takes one hand off of you and hooks his finger around the plug again, pulls it out just to lean in and spit on your hole. It shouldn’t be that sexy, but it makes your eyes roll back with pleasure, and you abandon your pillow to get your hands underneath you, on your breasts, squeezing roughly while he fucks you and rubs the pad of his thumb through his saliva.

“That’s it, baby, come for me. My perfect slut, getting all of her holes filled by daddy tonight. Come on this cock, baby girl, for daddy.” You don’t need to be told twice, as he slams into you so hard your ass shakes, as he presses a finger into you where you’re slick with his spit, and you come just before he does, loud and frantic. You like to think it’s his name on your lips that brings him over the edge, and he presses forward, his body flush against yours, and fills you with his come.

You are a panting, sweating mess after that, and he is, too. He pulls out carefully, rolls you onto your back, and grabs another pillow, puts it under you so your hips are tilted up. He climbs up between your legs, lays on your body, and you don’t even mind how hot his skin feels, you just want to touch him, stay covered by him.

“Oh, love you daddy,” you murmur, and you drape your hands over him; it’s all you have the energy for. He kisses your cheek, your neck, soft and slow.

“I love you, sweet girl. You can rest a moment. Do you want anything? Water or a blanket or a snack?”

“Hmm, no, I’m okay for now… Except my mouth is empty, daddy,” you say with a pout, and he kisses it, then presses two fingers into your mouth to open it up.

“Good girl, that’s right. I promised I’d think of something; stay still.” He moves down your body, kissing gentle and wet as he goes, and then he ducks between your thighs and licks your opening, curls his tongue inside. You groan, not just at the feeling, but at the implication: a mix of both of your come, from your pussy to his mouth, on the way up to yours—it’s a wonder you don’t pass out.

He kisses you, sloppy and deep, his tongue slipping against yours so you can taste everything, then adds some spit for good measure; there’s no shortage of it, they way you’re kissing, and when he pulls back you sink against the pillows, too tired to hold your head up.

He rests his head between your breasts, listens to your heartbeat and runs his hand up and down your body; it’s warm and comfortable, and you’d drift to sleep, you almost do, but you remember there’s one thing left, and you make a soft sound in your throat. Aaron peers up at you, touches your face, and you press against his palm.

“Ready for more, daddy. Are you?” You lick your lips and he shifts up onto his knees—yes, he’s ready, cock hard and thick for you—and he gets his hands under your hips, pulls you closer, eases the plug out.

You prepared yourself well, but will need more lube for him to fit comfortably, and he climbs off the bed and reaches for it on the bedside table where you left it. He leans in for a few warm kisses, then gets back on his knees on the bed, works a few thick, wet fingers into you, then slicks up his cock and presses that slowly inside.

“Oh god, hmm, yeah.” It feels good, but so snug, and he pumps easy and shallow so you can get used to having him there. He rubs a thumb gently over your wet, spent pussy, lovingly between the lips, and you reach down to hold yourself open, to make it a little easier on you both.

“Perfect, angel. So tight for me; it barely fits, but we make it work, don’t we, sweetheart?” You nibble your bottom lip, nod, breathe, because being tense only makes it worse and it feels so good when you let it. “I’m the only one who’s ever been here, aren’t I? I’m the only one you’ve ever given this to.”

“Yes, daddy. Only you,” you sigh, and he starts moving a little quicker, a little deeper; it just feels good now, his cock so big and hard inside you, tight like you’re made for each other. He rubs your pussy with purpose, now your opening and your clit, and you know you’re looking up at him with such sappy, sweet affection in your eyes because he’s looking at you with everything you feel mirrored back in his.

“Going to fill you up; never going to leave you like that again, if I can help it.” You hum, smile, move into his thrusts just a little.

“Yes, daddy. Missed you too much.” Your mouth falls open in a moan when he fucks his hips hard against yours, your breasts jumping with each full, deep thrust, and then the moans become constant, each time he’s completely inside you. It’s like a switch is flipped, and you go from sweet baby to desperate, feral slut in an instant. “Oh, come in me, daddy. Want you to fill me up, breed my body. Claim my ass, daddy, ruin me for everyone but you.”

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, thrusts faster, rubs your pussy harder, and you throw your head back and moan, your chest heaving. “I’ll breed your ass—no babies this way, but when you come you’ll still be full of me, and when your little pussy flutters it will just sink deeper, sweetheart. Your belly will swell for daddy, and you’ll be owned by daddy—even more than you are now. Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, god, yes daddy. Fuck me, daddy, breed me daddy, please.”

He’s getting close, it’s clear, and he pulls your body flush against his, one hand wrapped around your thigh, and pounds harder inside you, checks your face to make sure that’s okay; it’s so okay, and you nod because you know he likes the reassurance he’s not being too rough when you do this.

“Feels good, want your come, daddy. Want you to come in my ass and spit in my mouth—I’m begging, daddy, begging.”

You fuck hard against him, so desperate, dig your nails into his thighs and climax, and he follows, holding you tight and coming hot inside you. He fucks you through it, and you can feel his come pushed back and forth by the head of his dick; it’s delicious, maddening, and you don’t stop shaking for a long time, until he’s pulling out and lifting your body and holding you in his arms.

“Good girl, sweet girl, all used up by daddy, filled up with daddy,” he murmurs, rubbing your back and gently kissing your lips. Your head sags, your body drained of energy, but he tilts it up and gets you to open your mouth, licks at your tongue, pooling saliva on his while you moan, soft and wrecked into the kiss. You swallow hard when he pulls back, your eyelids fluttering, and he lays you down on the bed, brushes your hair back out of your face. “What do you need, baby? Bath or shower? Blanket, food, cuddles?”

You hum, because it all sounds good, but ultimately murmur, “shower, please, and then food and cuddles on the couch.”

He is so good to you, as always, cleaning you up, washing and conditioning your hair, letting you lean against him, sleepy and boneless, while he does all the work. He orders from your favorite restaurant, then gets you into a pair of his sweats, and you cuddle on the couch with a movie until the food comes; you don’t watch it, just lay on top of him, warm and content in his arms.

If Aaron ever has to leave town for ten days again, you’re booking a flight and hunting down that goddamn unsub yourself. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #prompt #request

[e-jaegerenthusiast]

U&I; bully!megumi

warnings/tw; smut, orgasm denial, oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected sex, cockwarming, slight degrading, overstimulation, squirting, slapping, creampie, stomach bulge, slight blood, fluff towards the end (sheesh that’s a lot💀)

(all characters are of age)

bully characters event w/ @angedelouvre <3

summary; you always tried to understand him, what you didn’t know was that he was obsessed with you, not knowing how to show his love.

w.c; 5.0k

(based on the song U&I by the neighbourhood)

there were many occasions where people would call you naive. your small group of friends, your parents, even strangers of all sorts. they called you naive because they knew you had a choice.

they knew you could just report him to your teachers, school council or, principal even. they knew you were holding back. many times you felt shame, embarrassment, sheer humiliation. the venom in his voice would tug at your heartstrings and threaten to poison you. but you knew you were already poisened.

you asked yourself the reason to being quite. especially the times when he would hurt your feelings to the point you would think of reporting him. it would be a thought shimmering around your head, circling until you felt dizzy to the brim, tears threatening to spill. but you wouldn’t cry. you knew you were stronger than that, you knew you could handle it. you had enough practice thanks to your family anyway.

your problem was that, you were too understanding.

too empathic. your heart felt bad for the boy. you had done your research on him. knew that his mother was dead. knew that she probably died due to the not-so obvious criminal acts of his dad.

his dad was threatening. you only saw him once or twice at school, on rare occasions it was that he would drop his son off with his black heavy-duty ram. as if he couldn’t get any more intimidating, he had a scar across his lips, frown on his face, bored look in his eyes, thick muscles and veins gripping the steering wheel.

your eyes would dart to megumi, as he would get out the car, closing the door with force you knew wasn’t needed. the noise echoing through your ears as his dad would reciprocate with the sound of the heavy engine speeding off. your lips would form a thin line, thinking if that’s the tension between them without any words, what hell was it at home?

would they scream and shout at eachother? break things? would his introvert and brooding sister get caught up between the two hot-headed men? would they not even talk? as deadly silence fills the whole house?

you would be brought out of your thoughts and snapped back to reality as fushiguro would walk past you, light scoff leaving his velvet lips. looking at you with a frown as if you were below him. as if you were ought to be ashamed for staring at him. as if you didn’t have permission to. the threatening look in his dark blue eyes would raise the beats of your heart, yet you wouldn’t look away. you knew you would pay for it later anyway.

you would watch as he walked away, your eyes darting to his hair. noticing how it wasn’t styled and spiky today as it is normally. his hair was almost messy, as if he wasn’t bothered to do anything with it. a few strands covered his forhead, making him look almost.. soft. you internally laughed at yourself for ever associating that word with the boy.

you would zone out all day in your classes, thinking of all the possibilities. thinking of what life fushiguro had to live at home. trying to understand why he would act the way he did. why he felt the need to bully you, no. you hated that word. you hated what it implied. you would like to believe he would only pick on you. maybe you were in denial. that’s what everybody would tell you. even your brain, telling you that you like to be his punching bag.

so what if he had issues at home? so what if he had self-issues and most definitely daddy issues? that would be no reason to hurt you. a girl. no, that would be no reason to hurt anyone. that’s what the rational parts of your brain would tell you. the other parts, the more naive and dumb parts, would tell you you want to help him somehow. even if he got some sort of relief by hurting you. you would want to help him.

you didn’t know why you would sacrifice your mental and emotional well being for a boy like him. but something pulled you in. he was like a damn magnet. a negative one. and you were the positive. that’s all you would think about sitting in physics class. but the negative and positive should attract eachother. then why were you the only would attracted? were you?

your thoughts were interrupted by the ringing sound of the bell, everyone picking up their backpacks and leaving. you would always be last to leave the classroom, sometimes staring too hard out the window, getting lost in your thoughts. there was something peaceful about an empty classroom, a place that was always constantly filled with noise and people, now quite.

you sighed as you picked up your bag and slowly started making your way out the classroom, you had a free period now, which you would usually go and have lunch with your friends in. however today you were feeling nauseous, not really in the mood to chew or even swallow anything.

as you opened the class door, making your way to the empty halls, you felt a strong pair of hands grab on to your shoulders, making you flinch. they pushed you back into the classroom in a flash, you were now pushed up against the classroom wall, door closing shut by itself. as you tried to calm your breathing and opened your eyes, you saw the familiar dark blue ones staring down at you with a glint of madness swimming in them. you wish you could swim in them.

your heart started beating faster. how did he know you took this class? you looked down at his hands on your upper arms, hissing as you looked up at him with your eyebrows furrowed, as if you wanted to tell him it hurt with your eyes. not wanting to talk. he slightly loosened his grip on your arms. but still keeping his big hands on you. as if to remind you, to make you aware of his intimidating presence.

he spoke through his teeth, with the same venom in his voice as always, “what the fuck were you doing watching me this morning?” he searched your eyes for an answer, yet the only thing he saw was his own so called hate in them.

you batted your eyelashes slowly, “I- huh?”

his grip tightened again in a mere second, pushing you into the wall as you winced, your back hitting against the hard wall. “don’t fucking bullshit me, l/n. you come to school from the other side, what the fuck were you doing on the east side where I get off?” 

you closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing. not wanting to break beneath his firm touch and voice. you spoke in a low voice as you looked down, “..I was— waiting for a friend that gets off there.”

you felt both his hands let go of you, dropping by his sides. you felt his fingers on your chin, making you flinch visibly, his brows furrowing at you as he made you look up to his eyes.

your eyes darted all around his face, his cheeks looked so soft, his lips pressed together as his face was dangerously close to yours. you finally looked up to his eyes, they were as if searching for something within yours, you bit on your lower lip, his hand left your chin. muttering “liar.” before he swiftly got out, leaving you a mental mess in the empty classroom.

•••••••••••••••••••••

the day passed quite slowly, it seemed like every hour was adding a new weight on your head. you picked up your bag and left your last class, gaze on the floor as you thought about a certain raven-headed asshole.

you weren’t feeling like going home, you’d usually go home after the sun sets, listening to music and biking around. your parents could care less anyway, busy with their own bickering. you walked to the school parking lot, trying to get to your bike.

a tall figure caught your attention as he was leaning against a tree, the shadow of the big willow covering his face. your eyes darted to the willow tree, the cool breeze making the leaves swish from side to side. willows, hope. belonging. safety.

you walked towards the tree, the bike stands being right next to it. you glanced at the boy again, almost gasping as your eyes locked with the same blue ones from earlier today. he walked towards you, hint of a smirk on his face. you swiftly tried to untie your bike and leave. not wanting any more conflict, you thought you couldn’t take it.

he grabbed on to your arm with a tight grip, your eyes shooting daggers at him, “let me go.” for once, venom filled your voice. he gave you the most shit-eating grin, “I wanna talk to you, bunny.” you tolled your eyes at the unfamiliar nickname.

you felt rather bold today, the blood in your veins rushing to your ears as you raised your voice, “let me fucking go. go and release your daddy issues somewhere else, fushiguro.”

he raise his brows, “the sweet innocent girl is swearing at me? insulting me? you seem to forget who you’re talking to, sweetie.” his grip on your arm tightened as he pulled you away from your bike before you could undo the restrains. he started pulling you towards the parking lot.

your legs walking for you at this point, you dumbfoundedly followed him as he kept tugging on your arm. almost throwing you when he let go, his voice filled with anger, “get in.” he said as he got into a black hellcat charger parked in the parking lot.

you stood there, the rational part of your brain practically yelling at you to not get in a car with your bully. but your legs were already walking for you before you could listen to your own warnings.

the smell of cedarwood and musk hit your nose as you sat down in the leather seats next to him. looking out the window, you huffed. crossing your arms as the car started with a roar, “where are we going?”

he glanced at you from the side of his eyes, “shut your smart little mouth.” this time, his voice wasn’t filled with the usual venom, it had a hint of..playfulness?

you dropped your hands in your lap and fidgeted with them, tapping one of your legs against the floor of the car slowly as he pulled out of the parking lot snd onto the street. that didn’t go unnoticed by fushiguro, his eyes darting to your fingers and your bumping leg, piecing together that you were indeed nervous.

he spoke in a low, menacing voice, “I’m not gonna kill you, don’t worry.” you looked at him with this, letting out a dry chuckle, “oh! like that makes it sound less-creepy!”

he didn’t say anything as he smirked and sped up. the car hit a speed bump, his arm shot to you, holding it infront of your form as to shield you like a seatbelt, his bicep pressing into your chest. he removed his arm after a few seconds as fast as he had brought it. your cheeks grew red, putting on your seatbelt, not wanting that to happen again. or did you?

he turned on the car’s radio, and put on a song with a few swipes of his slender fingers on his phone. the screen lighting up and reading “Softcore—The neighbourhood”. your scoff at the universe being hidden as he raised the volume and sped up again.

the ride to wherever he was going was pretty long, at some point your eyes drooping from the tiredness of the school day, but immediately opening back up as you didn’t trust the boy enough to be unconscious around him.

after a few minutes, you arrived at lookout. he got out the car, and sat down on the hood. you sighed, and got out after him. the view of the city was breathtaking, the sun hiding under the clouds, a few minutes away from setting down completely. the sky a mix of purple, pink, and orange.

you stood by the car door, watching the view as he glanced at you, a ghost of a smile at his lips.

you took slow steps towards him, standing next to the hood of the car yet not sitting down beside him. you moved your eyes from the view and to his face, the sunset had painted his face a faint orange, the dark blue of his eyes almost looking brown. you sighed for what seemed to be the umpteenth time of the evening, “why did you bring me here, fushiguro?”

he turned his head to you, motioning for you to sit down next to him. you did. but he stood, moving to stand infront of you, his face being much higher than yours than it usually is. his glanced moved between your lips and you eyes, “I fucking hate you, angel.”

before you could react, he leaned down swiftly, catching your lips in his, putting one palm on the hood of the car next to your thigh and placing the other on your cheek, holding you as his soft lips pressed against yours. his cool cedarwood cologne filling your nose as it pressed against his.

you suddenly came to your senses, hitting his chest with both your hands, looking up at his now lust-filled blue orbs. he took your wrists and placed both your hands around his neck as he leaned into you again, this time you felt his tongue against your lips, begging to enter. you refused, that was until his hands went to palm your ass on the car, making you gasp as he slid his tongue into your mouth.

your tongue slowly moved against his, yet he still dominated your mouth. your hands starting to move on him, one going to grip his bicep and the other intertwining in his soft hair, you were so thankful his hair was soft today for whatever reason. no hint of any of the excessive gel he uses to hold up his spikes. as your hand easily glided through his raven locks, he grunted into your mouth, moving closer to you, opening you thighs with his hands so he could stand in between them.

you pulled away, your lungs not the only thing threatening to combust. a string of saliva connected you both until his ragged sighs and breaths broke it. your looked up at him, your eyes swiftly switching between each of his eyes. he looked down at you and blinked slowly, suddenly pulling you flush against his chest, his arms tightly wrapped around your figure, face burried in your neck.

you slowly wrapped your arms around his waist, snuffling against his chest as it smelt heavenly. he groaned. you pulled back, looking up at him with a confused look, until he motioned his head downwards between the both of you. only then you realized something hard poking at your thigh. your face grew red as you burried you head in his chest again, feeling a deep chuckle come from it. he spoke in a deep, throaty voice against the shell of your ear, making you shiver, “are you a virgin?”

you moved away from his chest, looking up at his dark eyes, the sun was almost completely behind the horizon now. you slowly shaked your head, blushing. he smirked, “you naughty little thing.”

before you could say anything else, he picked you up by your ass, your hands going to tighten around his neck and your legs around his waist. you could hear one of the car doors open as your buried your face into his neck, smelling his cologne, something you clearly couldn’t get enough of.

he sat you down on the edge of the backseat, the car door still open as he knelt down in between it, looking up at you with soft eyes. you felt a lump in your throat as you started to get anxious. he realized it too, his burrows furrowing as he put his hands on your kness, his thumbs rubbing circles on your thighs. “what’s wrong, baby?”

your heart threatened to convulse at the nickname, sucking in a breath before you slowly spoke, “are..are you going to..use me? and- and then—“

he cut you off as he squeezed your thigh with one hand, and put his other palm on your cheek. “don’t say that..please.”

you didn’t know if he was genuine or not, his gaze holding an unreadable expression. but you fell for him anyway. you knew you were going to be at his mercy and do whatever he asks of you.

his eyes searching for something in yours, you nodded your head against his palm. at that, he gripped your legs and pulled you forward even more, your ass just barely on the seat of the car. his slender hands trailed up your thighs, long fingers resting on the waistline of your pants. your breaths were messy and uncollected as he slowly slid your pants down to your ankles, his gaze landing on your slightly damp underwear.

he licked his lips. the action being too intriguing for you, you leaned down, grabbing a hold of the back of his soft black hair as you smashed your lips against his. at first, he was surprised and didn’t move, then he started meeting your hungry open-mouthed kisses to his lips, tongues fighting like a tug of war.

he eventually pulled away, a slight smirk on his face “such a needy little slut, hm?”

you bite your lip as he leaves wet kisses on your lower thighs, inching closer to where you needed him most slowy. he looks up at you, and oh lord you could probably cum on the spot from only his gaze. you bite your lip harder. with the action, he let out a deep growl, biting harshly on your thigh, sure to leave a mark. he soothed it with his tongue and he spoke, mouth coming of your skin with a ‘pop’, “don’t you dare hold back your moans,” he pressed more wet kisses to your thighs, occasionally sucking and nibbling on the soft skin. “been wanting to hear em’ for so long, don’t hold back baby.”

little pants and sighs started leaving your mouth, your hips slightly bucking, trying to find some friction with the edge of the leather seat beneath you. fushiguro noticed, of course. his hands came to grip your hips, holding you down firmly as he tutted. “don’t be bad now. patience, angel.” you whined at his words, a low chuckle leaving him as his hands now gripped the waistband of your underwear, slowly pulling it down.

you pressed your thighs together, nervousness creeping up your veins. he looks up at you with his dark blue eyes which looked black as the night before you. “c’mon now, lemme see that pretty pussy, yeah?”

you hesitated. he didn’t, gripping your thighs tightly as he pried your legs open. glistening cunt bare to his eyes now. he licked his lips, something you could get used to.

he pressed soft kisses on your inner thighs as he moved closer, hot breath fanning over you cunt. you clenched around nothings as he pressed a soft kiss on your clit, you bit your lip again.

a sudden sharp sting on your clit from his teeth made you scream, looking down at him as he hummed around your lips, gaze never leaving yours. you knew what he meant. he wanted you to be more vocal.

his tongue flicked around your sensitive clit, making you squirm beneath him as you started letting out quite moans, spurring him on to him against your clit as he attacked you with his tongue. his hums would spur you on to moan more, making him hum more. it was a whole cycle of the two of you getting lost in eachother’s sounds and pleasures.

as soon as your moans turned into whines and your thighs began to slightly shake against his hold, he pulled away, your wetness covering his chin and his lips. making him practically glow in the darkness surrounding you both. you whined, the knot in your stomach slipping from you and getting lost in his gaze.

he licks all around his lips, “you’re not cumming unless it’s ‘round my cock, angel.” his gruff voice making you shiver. with that, he stood up, making you lay back in the car seats. he hovered over you, one of his legs still out of the car, as his other leg was in between yours. he brought his lips down to yours, tongues instantly linking together as he hummed in your mouth. you could taste yourself on his tongue, your hands went to his neck and hair, slightly tugging on the black locks.

with a firm grip on his hair, you brought your other hand to his shoulder, pushing him down to sit, his back against the closed door of the car, one of his long legs stretched out on the seat and the other rested in a normal seating position on the floor of the car.

he furrowed his brows at your boldness, lips giving you a soft, lust-dazed smile. you put your hands in his thighs, slightly tugging at his pants. he lifted his hips to take off both his pants and underwear with a chuckle. you wanted to hear that sound forever.

the whole time you looked at his face, kind of intimidated to look down, as he finished and looked at you, he raised a brow, “It won’t bite y’know.”

you slowly looked down, your eyes widening at his length. his cock was pretty. he looked long, very long— maybe more than 7’. the head of his cock was flushed a pretty dark pink, slightly darker than the rest of his length. precum leaking down his dick from the tip.

the sound of another heavenly chuckle of his brought you out of your daze, he waited patiently for you. not trying to push you. was this the fushiguro you really knew? how was he being so soft? so kind almost?

you moved your hand towards him, gripping his length as he hissed. you pumped him slowly, his eyebrows furrowing and mouth hanging open as he let out ragged breaths and threw his head back.

you could easily say he looked the prettiest right now. so you did, “it’s so pretty.”

his dark eyes moved from the ceiling to you, raising a brow as he tried to smirk, you hand tightening around him made him wince instead.

“p-pretty?” he said in a shaky voice, almost making you chuckle. you smiled and nodded your head. if you weren’t in pure ecstatic bliss right now, you would believe fushiguro blushed at your words.

you slowly leaned down to his cock, he held his breath as your soft lips pressed a kiss to his tip. you circled your tongue around his head, his thighs slightly shaking at the action. soft pants leaving his plum lips.

you slowly took him in your mouth, less than half of it barely fitting before it hit the back of your throat. you looked up at him, he was biting his lips, looking down at you. you disconnect from his cock with a ‘pop’, a few strings of saliva around your lips as you licked them, “wanna hear you too.” you said softly, he nodded swiftly, wanting you to continue your previous actions.

you licked a strip all the way on the prominent vein showing at the side of his length. he winced in pleasure, moaning as you took him in your mouth again, bobbing your head up and down in a slow pace.

he gave out a slow whine, his hand moving to your shoulder, pulling you back from his now saliva-covered cock. his face scrunched as he took deep breaths, “i’m c-close, don’t wanna cum in your mouth.” you looked at him dumbfounded, he gave out a low chuckle, “c’mere.” he shifted on the car seat, sitting down completely and pulling you into his lap.

he held your chin, bringing your lips down to his, you melted into him, letting him dominate your mouth with his tongue. you gasped and moaned as you felt him shift, his cock sitting right at your entrance. he looked up at you, holding your hips, “gonna put it in slowly, kay?” his velvet voice making you shiver, you nodded. feeling his tip between your folds, you moaned, hands tightening on his broad shoulders.

he slowly pushed you down onto him, filling you to the brim. you screamed from the stretch, your eyes squeezing shut as he shushed you and drew small circles on your hips with his thumb. you opened your eyes, lids heavy on lust, your teeth pressed down so hard on your lower lip it drew blood. he leaned forward, licking the blood of your lips, then pressing his lips softly to yours.

you made out as his cock still sat in you, unmoving. you could feel him twitch against your walls as you bit on his lip while pulling it. he looked down between you, “fuuuuck,” you looked to where his gaze was, slightly confused. you saw what he was gawking it, his long cock made a bulge in your stomach, you clenched around him involuntarily, making him hiss as he spoke through his teeth, “if you clench around me one more time i’m going to cum without having fucked you.” there was venom in his voice, but it was delicious, you wanted it. you were insatiable.

you clenched around him, this time on command. he groaned as he pressed down on the bulge his cock made on your stomach with his slender fingers. you felt warm liquid fill you up, you moaned, as he started fucking into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the car.

you could feel his cum from a few seconds prior leak onto his thighs as he kept fucking into you, with a bruising pace. you screamed as his hand landed a harsh slap on your ass, kneading it with his palm to soothe the pain, “fuck—fuck, fuck i told you i’d cum, now you’re gonna have to take it.” you clenched around him with his words, cumming around him with a loud whine as he slapped your ass again.

his movements didn’t falter for a second. fucking you through your orgasm and after it, your hands pushing away at his chest pathetically, pulling a menacing chuckle from him as he held your arms as you shook.

you had barely came down from your high when you felt him slap you other ass cheek, thrusting into you harder than before if that was even possible, his balls slapping your ass with each movement, your thighs shaking. “f-fushiguro—“, he grunted, “megumi. say my name.” you shivered, “m-megumi!!” a chant of blabbers leaving your mouth as he fucked you dumb. “that’s right angel.”

he buried his head into your neck, you could feel his hot breaths on the shell of your ear, his movements slowing down, or so you thought. he started a different pace, instead of fast thrusts, he gave you hard ones, pulling out of your ruined cunt slowly and thrusting back in harshly after a few seconds.

both his palms went to your ass, holding your cheeks to move you with them, he spoke into your ear with a thrust of his hips, “i want you to know,” another hard thrust, making you scream, he spoke with a deep voice, “i need you to be,” another thrust, he groaned as you clenched around him, trying to suppress your moans so you could hear him. “i need you to be—fuck-argh-someone for me in my life,” you wrapped your hands around his head, his mouth leaving sloppy kisses on your neck as he thrusted again, “i can’t— i can’t let you g-go.”

your hand tugged on his hair, and that was his breaking point, cumming into you again as he thrusted, his thumb going to rub on your clit, making you cum with a scream as you tightened around him. your whole body shaked as he held you close, your pussy gushed from the overstimulation, your fluids covering his abs in a glistening sight.

you stood like that for a while, embracing eachother as your bodies cooled down. after a few seconds, he helped you get off of him, cleaning the both of you with a few tissues as he handed you your clothes.

you didn’t know what you were now, you just knew you were happy. you were happy when you screamed out the window of his car, his hand resting on your upper thigh as you urged him to shout at the empty road too.

you were happy when he got you both food, eating together as you laughed and talked. you were happy because you felt safe.

safe to just talk for hours with him about your fears and the things you’re ashamed of.. hours of pure vulnerability with him, and when you would look up, expecting the worst. you would feel his lips against yours.

only one thing bugged and ate away at your head when he dropped you off at your house, making you still your hands on the doorbell,

he never apologized.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

© all content belongs to e-jaegerenthusiast, do not repost or copy any of my work

aaaaaa i hope you guys enjoyed this one <3

it took me a long time to write phew~ my first actual fic posted~

part 2

xxxx

#🥂 — louvre’s angels #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #megumi smut #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut