#and that only draws attention to my ugly fucking face

[holybibly]

I will be sharing my thoughts with you during a week filled with hard hours. 

We always talk about how jealous and possessive Hongjoong is, but darlings, I am going to share with you three of the most toxic and jealous bombshells, in my opinion. 

San is an absolute gentleman, a whole bloody "forest,"  not your ordinary green flag. But behind this perfect facade, there is a monster that he hides very well. San is clingy and possessive to the point of impossibility; you call Wooyoung clingy. Hold my champagne; San is a million times worse than him. At first, it's easy; you'd never notice how smoothly and exquisitely he begins to brainwash you. 

"Let's stay at home, Chagi, just the two of us."

"I can take care of you, I don't think you need to go to work."

"I love the time we spend together, I never want to let you go."

"I'm so in love with you."

Step by step, he draws you into a trap and completely monopolizes your attention. It's just you and him. The sex has always been so amazing. In the beginning, San would be so careful and gentle, so attentive. The more your relationship develops, the more violent he becomes. He treats you possessively and roughly, literally fucking you into oblivion. 

"You belong only to me."

"I own that fucking pussy."

"No one will ever be able to fuck you like me."

But worst of all, you believe him. You believe every word he says. You quit your job. You wait for him at home, obedient and beautiful, in his soft sweatshirts, smelling of his perfume, covered with the marks of his passionate kisses and bites. And yes, San does bite to the point of blood and bruises. 

Everyone around him thinks he's such a nice guy, but look closely. There's a darkness in those feline eyes, and if you look long enough, you'll see it. But be careful. You might just get his full attention.

Seonghwa is handsome. He is too handsome for his own good, and he uses it all the time. A real prince who will win your heart is polite, attentive, a real dream boy. 

It's hard for you to believe that someone like him could love a simple and ordinary girl like you; you don't think of yourself as ugly. Just ordinary, there are millions like you, but Seonghwa. Seonghwa is one-of-a-kind.

When you start dating, he keeps saying how lucky he is to have you. How happy he is that he has found someone so special. And he means it. Just not the way you think he means it.

For him, you're an endless source of self-gratification. He'll do anything to get you to praise him, to talk about how beautiful he is, how talented he is, how damned perfect he is. Once Seonghwa realises you're head over heels in love with him, you'll never run away again and your sweet boyfriend will become a real demon.

You have your attention on someone else, he'll fuck you in front of the mirror as punishment, constantly taunting, mocking and humiliating, so you can have a look at his gorgeous face in the reflection while he's doing this.

"You are so worthless, you should be fucking grateful to have such a gorgeous guy like me in your life. Or do you have the idea that anyone else could have a pickup a bitch like you?"

"You pathetic whore, look who's fucking you.

"Aren't I enough for you? Look into my eyes while I pulling you down on my dick."

He will destroy everything you've ever dreamed of, and everything you love, until there is nothing left in your head but him. Glorify him, glorify him incessantly, talk about how wonderful he is, and Seonghwa will give you heaven. "Because you're so beautiful" should accompany every "I love you". Every "thank you" should be followed by: "Because I have you, how could I want more?"

You're just going to stop being aware of the whole world outside of Seonghwa. That's why, my dear, you should be careful when you give a compliment to someone. You might just find yourself one-to-one with a demonic hunger of a gentle prince charming.

Mingi's in love with you. Or rather, he's in love with the idea that he's in love with you. Can't you see that? He's a puppy in love, but on closer inspection, he's more like a hungry wolf on the hunt for his sweet little prey.

The universe's softest boy. Endless hugs, cute nicknames, long kisses and a never-ending stream of words of love. He'll shower you with presents, flowers so many they'll make your flat look like a greenhouse.

"I love to love you, baby."

"Can you feel this, babe? Can you feel how much I am in love with you?" He whispers in your ear. Your whole body trembles at the powerful, rigid thrust of his thighs.

His rhythm is brutal, the bed is pounding against the wall, with such tangible force that the paint on it starts to crack.

He holds you to the bed with one hand, the other tucks his fingers into the soft curve of your thigh, his rings scratching the skin to the point of blood, his nails digging into the flesh, leaving deep blue marks.

"I'm going to love you until I die."

"l will never let you go, babe."

"No one will ever be able to love you as much as I do."

We've all heard that story about wolves wearing sheepskins. So think twice before you fall in love with that shiny puppy look - maybe it's just a clever disguise for a terrifying wolf who's on the prowl.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #kpop smut #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong #seonghwa #ateez scenarios #ateez mingi #ateez fanfiction #ateez hard hours #ateez au #ateez fic #san x reader #mingi smut #mingi x reader #seonghwa smut #san smut #jongho smut #yunho smut #wooyoung smut #yeosang smut #ateez yandere #ateez ot8

[midnightwriter21]

can we have the first meet soulmate thing for sorcerer! reader please?? w gojo only

jjk hcs: satoru meeting sorcerer!soulmate!reader

characters: satoru gojo x reader, megumi (mentioned), yuji (mentioned), nobara (mentioned)

warnings: u kill a cursed spirit, possible injury but not rly, mature language (reader cusses gojo out lmfao), the kids & reader lowkey bullying gojo lol, gojo is kinda suggestive at the end

AN: soulmate au where the first words your soulmate says to you are tattooed somewhere on your body!! read the non-sorcerer version HERE

SATORU GOJO

being called in as back up for a mission involving a 2nd grade cursed spirit was not on ur to-do list today

but guess where you are!!

an empty mall!!

an empty mall where you’re currently watching 3 teenagers run around like headless chickens

the curse is ugly… as most of them are but..

this one is NASTY looking

several different colored eyeballs sticking out of various places on its body

it’s oozing some sort of greenish brown liquid

and the smell

dear lord it’s bad

the poor pink haired kid is simultaneously holding his nose and trying to fight the curse with one hand

and it’s main attack seems to be the ability to spit that greenish brown liquid at whoever it’s attacking, rendering them immobile

almost like a glue trap for mice

the curse backs the three kids into a corner and prepares to spit that sticky liquid at them

and that’s when you decide to make your entrance

jumping from the second floor of the mall, in front of the kids, and drawing your weapon

you block the attack and jump towards the curse

severing it’s head and therefore exorcising it in one quick movement

you sheathe your weapon and turn to the kids, “why the hell are you three taking on a 2nd grade mission?”

the pink haired boy from earlier explains, “our sensei was supposed to be with us but when we split up he went to the food court… and uhhh… we haven’t seen him since.”

you give the kids a sour look, “your sensei must be a complete moron”

all at once the kids agree

“he is” -the girl with the hammer

“yeah, pretty much” -the boy with the black spikey hair

“i mean.. kinda, sometimes” -the pink haired boy

you sit the kids down on a bench so that you can check over them and access any possible wounds

mama bear mode activated.

you ask the boy, who you now know as megumi, to get in touch with his sensei

when his sensei answers the phone, megumi explains that the curse has been exorcised

but before he can explain about your presence, you snatch the phone from him and let out a string of expletives directed towards the man on the other end

“you must be a fucking idiot huh? your kids could’ve died taking on a 2nd grade alone and you’re off being an irresponsible jackass somewhere-“

before you can continue you hear the dial tone

he hung up on you

without even saying a word

nearly growling in anger you shove the phone back to megumi and move over to yuji

you take his hands in yours and begin to wrap his hands in bandages saying, “you know, if you keep punching through walls you’re going to end up really hurting your knuckles”

as you wrap his hands you’re not really paying attention to your surroundings, so the smug voice coming from behind spooks you a little…

“it’s good that a pretty little thing like you came to the rescue or else my kids could’ve died since i was off being an irresponsible jackass”

he’s throwing your own words back in your face

whipping your head around fast enough to give yourself whiplash, you prepare to launch into another ass chewing

but your words get stuck in your throat when you’re met with a tall, blindfolded, white haired man

a man known to everyone in the jujutsu world

Satoru Gojo

in response to your stunned silence he lets out a chuckle, “what? cat got your tongue, pretty?”

his mocking snaps you back into reality as you fire back, “no, i’m just surprised on how someone like you can be such a complete and utter dumbass!”

“awww cmon is that the way you’re supposed to talk to your soulmate?” he smirks down at you

you give him a confused look before it hits you

his first words to you from earlier…

“it’s good that a pretty little thing like you came to the rescue or else my kids could’ve died since i was off being an irresponsible jackass”

those exact words are printed on your back underneath your shoulder blade in neat handwriting

looking up at him with wide eyes, you watch as he turns his back to you, pulling off his uniform jackets and lifting up his shirt

ignoring the faint gagging sounds from his students

and there it is, printed in the exact same spot as yours, in your handwriting

“you must be a fucking idiot huh? your kids could’ve died taking on a 2nd grade alone and you’re off being an irresponsible jackass somewhere-“

“no. fucking. way.” you say in disbelief as he turns back to face you

“you have a dirty mouth, sweetheart,” he leans in and whispers softly in your ear, “can’t wait to see just how dirty it can get,” he leans back and says in his normal voice, “but we’ll save that for later!”

#jjk headcanons #jjk #jjk soulmate au #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk satoru gojo #jjk gojo satoru #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk megumi #jjk itadori #jjk nobara #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader fluff #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you

[boyfriendstevie]

heeeeey bestie >:) i think it’s a NEED (not a want) that i get a blurb with prompt #5 of those best friends that fool around

this has been in my drafts for literal months, so here's a lil treat for u hehe | kinda mean steve, fwb w a hint of feelings if u squint (i can't help myself), fingering, afab!reader 18+ only!! mdni!!

-

Steve knows you like the back of his hand. Better, even. He knows your favorite flower, knows what will cheer you up after a bad day, knows what you look like after an ugly cry, knows how to make you laugh so hard you can’t breathe. That comes with the territory of being friends for your entire life. And now that you’ve… expanded your definition of friendship, he knows you even better. So he definitely knows when you’re about to cum, and is using it to his advantage. 

“Asshole!”

The word comes out with much less bite than you intend, sounding more than a little pathetic as you let out a hiccupy sob. Steve’s been teasing you for what feels like hours, which, okay, is maybe deserved, considering you went out of your way to make him jealous, but this is bordering on cruel. The way he’s brought you to the edge more than once, with his mouth, his fingers, only to pull away before you can cum. Your thighs tremble around his figure, cunt clenching around nothing; a protest of your ruined orgasm. 

He laughs, sounding smug as his eyes glint in the dim light of his bedroom, “What’s wrong, babe? I thought this was what you wanted. Wanted my attention, and now you have it.” As if to prove his point, two of his fingers dip into the well of slick at your entrance. 

You let loose a breathless whine, your hips jerking in a desperate attempt to get Steve right where you want him. It works — if only for a moment — as his fingers slide to your clit, drawing another choked whimper from you, “Steve— f-fuck, please—“

It’s nearly evil, the grin on his face. He’s so pleased with himself, knowing exactly what will draw more of the noises he loves out of you. What will make you beg until he actually gives you what you want. Knows that if he draws a line up your inner thigh and cups your perfect cunt in his palm, you’ll make another pretty noise as you grind against the heel of his hand, desperate for anything. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath. This is almost as torturous for him as it is for you, his cock hard and straining against the fabric of his boxers at the sound of your moans. He doesn’t want to show his cards quite yet, though, and slowly circles one digit over your entrance, “Please what, baby? Christ, you’re wet, huh? There somethin’ you want?”

“Want—“ you cut yourself off with a sharp inhale, jaw clenching and body tensing when Steve brushes your clit again with a featherlight touch, “Want you. Please, Steve. W-wanna cum—“

“Aw,” Steve coos, feigning sympathy as he pushes his lips out to match the pout on yours, “You wanna cum, babe?”

You nod frantically, hair crushed against his pillow underneath you, “Please. Need you.” Your cheek presses to your shoulder as you blink up at Steve and murmur an apology, “I— ‘m sorry for fl-flirting with him. Only w-want you, Steve. Only need you.”

Steve’s heart melts a bit, flutters in his chest at your admission, and he eases up on you despite himself, sinking two long fingers into your tight heat. You let out a shuddering gasp, a high-pitched whine as you clench around his fingers. He twitches in his boxers, all but growling as he leans over and captures your lips with his, fingers curling deep inside of you. It’s not quite enough, but you’re so close to falling apart, and you moan into the kiss. 

He can’t find it in himself to continue denying you the pleasure you’re desperate for, and pulls back just enough to watch your face contort into one of bliss as his fingers pump in and out of you, the pad of his thumb finding your clit. “Gonna cum on my fingers, pretty girl?”

“Yes!” you gasp, writhing against the sheets, against Steve’s touch, as a white heat twists in your tummy like a coil about to snap. The thumb on your clit doubles down as your face scrunches up; Steve knows you well enough to know just how close you are, and with all the teasing, it doesn’t take long until you fall apart, his name on your lips. 

“There you go. Atta girl,” Steve says as he lifts his hand to his lips, still a little smug, though it’s tinged with his own want. “Think you can handle my cock, baby? Think you can cum again for me?”

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stevie #steve thots #kit writes #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb

[stormberry-12]

faceless // P4: are you ugly? ~ charles leclerc x reader

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader

includes/authors notes: language, lack of equal rights/ gender equality, readers an unknown figure in the races, fem!reader's gender assumed as male, use of "y/n".

Bold Italics are the past.

Normal Italics are thoughts.

summary: "There is a new mysterious driver on the grid. Nobody knows who he is, the only thing we know is that he races for Red Bull with the number 66. Other drivers call him the faceless driver for none have ever seen his face or heard him speak. The faceless driver is a legend in the making and even giving Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen a run for their money…”

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sat alone in a medical room, sure you had wanted to reveal your identity eventually but this was too much to handle all in one day. You could sense the awkwardness of the doctors who had come to perform tests on you, they were polite but curt. A nice nurse offered you some tissues but no one uttered more than 5 words to you, probably still processing it themselves.

You pulled out your phone, there was no doubt Charles knew, he was out of his car even before you were, probably watching televised on hundreds of screens around him. 

He hadn't tried to contact you. 

You didn't blame him.

However, you did have hundreds of notifications from other people and F1 Instagram pages tagging your private account and spreading the news worldwide.

A knock on the door frame made you jump, "You're free to go miss, as long as you have no more neck pain."

"Thank you," you replied, not looking the doctor in the eyes, and climbing out of the bed.

"Take the pain meds twice a day, for your wrist and neck, don't over-exert yourself. Have a good day."

'Have a good day.'

You walked out of the medical center with your belongings, walking to the parking lot, not planning on going back to the Red Bull garage. You couldn't care less what Christian thought about this whole thing and would probably receive a very heavily worded email from him later tonight.

The sky was dark, you must have been in there for a while. The lights from the posts shone down on the many expensive cars that the drivers had driven to the race.

Charles's car was gone.

"Fuck me," you cursed, the tears had returned along with shooting pain up the side of your neck. You called an Uber, waiting in the crisp air and wiping the tears off your face. The world seemed wobbly as you scanned your surroundings, letting reality hit harder and harder every time you thought about the day you just had.

You looked across the parking lot to see Yuki getting into his car. He shot you a small smile and wave. "Fuck is a fun word. And you have a cool helmet by the way,"

"YUKIII!" Pierre screamed, running over to the car drawing both of your attention. "I'm driving,"

"No!"

"Yes."

They argued for about 20 seconds before Yuki hopped in the passenger seat. Pierre then noticed you, giving you a thumbs up and a knowing smile before hopping in the car.

God, word spread fast. 

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

You and Charles settled onto the couch, cozy blankets draped over your laps, snuggled up next to each other. Tonight's choice? The Office. It was a show you both adored, somehow whenever you watched it it always managed to lift your spirit. With a bowl of popcorn between your legs, you hit play, and the familiar theme song filled the room. You nestled into Charles's side, feeling the comforting warmth of his presence.

"Guess what, I have flaws. What are they? Oh, I don't know. I sing in the shower. Sometimes I spend too much time volunteering. Occasionally I'll hit somebody with my car. So sue me." Michael Scott's voice rang from the speakers.

"Oh my god," Charles chuckled. "I can't with this show,"

As the credits rolled, you turned to Charles, a contented smile playing on his lips. "I love nights like this," you whispered.

"Me too," Charles replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Especially when I'm with you."

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

The door to your apartment creaked as you opened it slowly, the hum of the airconditioning filled your ears and and hit you with a cold blast that sent shivers down your spine. You tossed your backpack on the floor and braced yourself for all of the outcomes that could happen next.

'What if he breaks up with me?' Flashed in the back of your mind as one of the possibilities that made your stomach ache. He was sitting on the couch, gaze not leaving the TV, but you could see his shoulders tense as your footsteps entered the room.

"Charles, we need to talk," you said softly, your voice barely audible over the blasting TV and loud voices outside the thin wall. 

He ignored you coldly, grabbing his plate off the side table and walking towards the kitchen. 

"Oh come on, Charles! Jesus, listen to me, I can explain!" you cried, following him around the apartment until he finally turned to face you, his eyes were broken. 

"Explain..."

"Yes-"

"Explain? You've been racing alongside me all this time, pretending to be just another driver, while I've been completely in the dark about who you are! You lied to me!" he spoke, voice cracking and eyes watering.

"Charles I-"

"Like holy shit!" Charles's voice trembled as he continued to word vomit his feelings like he always did. "You were the faceless driver. The one everyone speculated about, and-"

"Charles, I didn't want to lie to you. I just... I never wanted my identity to overshadow my abilities on the track. I wanted to be known for my skill, not my gender or boyfriend's name." You sighed heavily, hands trembling slightly, head pounding.

"You didn't think I deserved to know? We're in a relationship, Y/n. We're supposed to trust each other!" Charles's voice grew louder, his words cutting through the air, making you feel small.

"It was in my contract Charles, I couldn't tell anyone-"

"Why would you sign your life away like that? Red Bull was taking advantage of you but you were too stupid and blinded by all the secrets you had to keep-" he hissed.

"Oh my god! Why are you being such a dick? I came up with half my contract rules, I didn't want to tell anybody!" you held your neck as it ached.

"You told Lando,"

"No, I didn't. I never meant for him to find out!" you yelled, well tried to, as you found it harder and harder to catch your breath. "And do not bring Lando into this, he's your teammate and friend-"

"But he knew before I did! He kept secrets from me too," he complained. "And you had your little waves out on track and everything, don't bring Lando into this my ass. I hate how you realized you could trust him but couldn't think of anyone else in your life that you might be able to trust. Someone who might deserve to know. Was there no one else Y/n? No one else that you spent hours of the day with, that had trusted you with all of his problems? No one that loved you so much and would support you no matter what-"

"Charles-" you choked out, guilt overtaking you.

"This is so wild, I can't believe this day is real," he mumbled and you weren't sure if he was referencing the fact that you were a driver or the fact that you had left him in the dark and damaged the strong relationship you had. Probably both.

You sighed and rubbed a hand over your face, you felt like you were going to puke. You pushed past Charles and shuffled to the bathroom slamming the door behind you. You heard Charles call after you but his words were drowned out by the pounding and ringing in your ears. 

As you leaned over the toilet vomiting you felt your hair being pulled away from your face and a hand placed firmly on your back. You knelt there for a while, his fingertips traced up and down your spine until you pulled away to splash your face with water.

You slid back down to the floor leaning against the sink. You hugged your knees to your chest, not wanting to feel the cold tiles on the back of your legs any longer, as your boyfriend sat across from you quietly. Charles hesitated, his eyes locked with yours. The weight of the words you yelled at each other hung heavy in the air. His foot grazed yours softly and you both looked down at your matching socks that you un-intentionally wore on the same day.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"Yeah. They told me I didn't have a concussion..."

"That's bullshit. And the wrist?"

You looked down at your bandaged hand, "Sprained."

He hummed in acknowledgment, "They did a shit job at that too, can a re-wrap it for you?"

You nodded and he skooted closer, taking your arm gently in his hands. He unwrapped the tenser bandage around your wrist and you winced, Charles whispered an apology, examining your bruises and swelling.

"Jesus, love," he wrapped the bandage around you once more, neat and tidy, securing it tightly. He looked up meeting your eyes with an unreadable expression, fingers still grazing your bandaged wrist. "Lando had more than one secret he was keeping from me,"

"What?" you croaked.

Charles closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face, "He's leaving. His contract was only for a year to try out a new team..."

You stared at Charles in shock before he continued. "He misses Mclaren, and of course Zack misses him. So yeah," Charles laughed but no humor filled his face, "I'll be saying goodbye to yet another awesome teammate that I've considered a brother."

"I'm so sorry Charlie," you whispered, linking your hand with his. You knew how hard it was for him when Carlos left, they didn't speak as much anymore, and you could always see the pain in Charles' eyes whenever Carlos brushed him off with a rushed wave in the paddock.

"God, I've got to stop being so sensitive and annoying," He sighed.

"No, your empathy, understanding, and awareness are some of my favorite things about you," you smiled softly at his blush.

"But I wasn't very understanding to you," he whispered and you felt your heart pinch.

You were about to respond, countering his statement with the truth that you were so terribly sorry and pissed at yourself for everything, when your phone rang pulling you from the moment. Looking down at the screen you stared at Christian Horner's name as it buzzed.

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

#storms library #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #faceless driver trend #fanfiction

[crucialplayer]

How to piss off/annoy each zodiac sign

!! everything is based purely on my experiences with signs, written with no other purpose than to share my observations and be unserious.

Virgo. Draw attention just for the sake of it. Deliberately skew the facts and don’t pause to let them correct you - you are a powerhouse and nothing can stop you from saying the most dumb shit ever. Remember to do it unapologetically too.

Capricorn. Be unemployed. Don’t be ashamed of it. Imply that life without a purpose and a goal is just as valid. Express no will in achieving things and present it as something not only reasonable but admirable. 

Taurus. Anything ugly will do. Considering that they are picky as fuck almost everything is ugly to them. Make them put in effort, burden them with some kind of task. Make them move when they don’t want to. 

Sagittarius. Tell them they are wrong. Say something like «yeah but it’s just your personal experience not a fact». Invite them to a party full of monogamous judgmental married couples with kids. 

Leo. Don't compliment them esp when they’ve visibly put a ton of care into their fit. try to Be louder than them. Compare them to someone they don’t like. Be the one person in the room that doesn't give them attenti- oh wait that’ll actually make them fall for u nevermind. 

Aries. Be indecisive or timid. If you are in a group setting slow everyone down by requiring some form of emotional support. Tell them they are not capable of something. 

Cancer. Deprive them of comfort. Be pushy or rude unprovoked. Make plans with them that are nearly impossible to cancel. Don't let them rant about something that has upset them. 

Pisces. Don’t let them sprint off immediately when faced with minor inconvenience. Give them realistic feedback when they are sharing their dreams and plans with you (might cause a minor heart attack. be careful). Any kind of office-job-like task will also do. 

Scorpio. Insinuate that they are flaky. Keep the mood light-hearted. Bring up the topic of open relationships. Be the one that is faster to start talking to that one shy and mysterious person in the room. 

Gemini. When they are telling a story, ask them to be specific and precise with the dates/names/circumstances. Talk to them for some time and then test how well they’ve listened to you. Show no signs of being impressed by them. 

Aquarius. Trap them in perpetual small talk. Talk about the pick me phenomenon in their presence. At a party invite someone who has more piercings than them. Make everyone talk about that one super popular TV show.

Libra. Give them only Yes or No as answer options. Ruin the flow of a conversation. Be very radical with your opinions. Make them choose a side in an argument. Dress as tacky as you can (and flex it).

#astrology #astro notes #astro observations #natal chart #zodiac signs #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

[lakesbian]

I stared down at the ground, at the table leg I was holding.  “I get nervous when I’m close to people.  I think, you know, maybe I have bad breath, or maybe I have B.O., and I wouldn’t be able to tell, because it’s mine, so I hold my breath like that to be safe.  I dunno.” Bravo, Taylor.  Bravo.  I imagined the slowest, most sarcastic of slow claps.  Talking about bad breath and B.O. was totally the way to go.  One of those brilliant moments that would have me cringing every time I remembered it in the next few years or decades, I was sure. Then Brian leaned close, closing the scant inches of distance that separated us, until our noses were practically touching. “Nope.  You smell nice,” he told me. If I’d been a cartoon character, I was pretty sure that was the point where I’d have steam shooting out of my ears, or I’d be melting into a puddle.  Instead, I went with my first instinct, once more, and went very still.  I became aware of a heat on my face that must have been a furious blushing.

man we URGENTLY need to get this one redrawn. it's so redrawable. like i was saying last time i was liveblogging i think brian & taylor work specifically because it's not just generic YA-cutesiness. it's two dysfunctional teenagers who Absolutely are not going to work, which taylor accurately predicts and then does it anyway. and brian somehow does not know he likes her right now despite the fact that he is Sniffing Her (LESS THAN AN INCH FROM HER FACE !!!) and then going no you smell nice :). and they only get together in the context of Doomed Hormonal Clinging as a rock for atrociously traumatizing circumstances. knowing that makes the cutesiness Hurt More (Positive). continued thing during this portion of chapters where taylor doesn't know how to respond 2 a Social Occurrence and just. freezes up because she can't do anything wrong and be rejected or hurt if she's not reactive at all.

it's also so. Augh. Painful. that taylor has just been utterly convinced she's disgusting to be around, that she can't Breathe around people without it being intolerable. the bullying-induced paranoia that even when she's just sitting there there's some flaw she hasn't noticed that makes her ugly and mockable. and it's so believably sweet that even though brian has a HOST of problems wrt parsing his own feelings for her he sees her awkwardly fumble thru an accidental confession about the fact that she's scared she's just intolerable to be around and doesn't make it weird or draw attention to her he just leans in and is like. no :) its nice. brian laborn why can't you be more self aware about liking her. you were so close until you fucked it up so bad.

#wormtime 2 #wormtime 2 arc 6 #worm spoilers #jay don't look

[decembermidnight]

Cherry Liqueur

Summary: You tease Mando in public, drawing too much attention. He reminds you and everyone else who you belong to.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: this is pure smut 18+ mdni, no plot - straight to the point, teasing in public, helmet stays on (sort of), oral (f receiving), female edging, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (p in v), possessive!din, dom!din, cumplay, degradation kink... the list goes on

A/N: this is the first time I'm publishing!! So excited for this. This whole thing was inspired by a perfume. Of course I bought it. Also, keep in mind that English is not my first language! Have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

It's the twilight of a hot summer night on some unknown planet in the outer rim, the suns still setting at the horizon are painting the sky with gorgeous shades of dark orange, lilac and blue. The cantina you’re sitting in is slowly getting crowded and is dimly lit by blue, purple and green lights. 

The vanilla ice cream you are savoring is slowly melting in the glass cup in front of you and it’s so sweet and cold, you moan in pleasure and close your eyes when you bring the teaspoon into your mouth.

He is sitting in front of you and watches with his arms crossed, silent and unbothered, as always. The lights of the cantina gorgeously reflect on his shiny beskar armor.

"Mando, why don't you get some? It's so good." you tease him, your voice sounding so seductive.

He doesn't reply, but won’t take his eyes off you. You can’t see them, but you can feel them scouting your body.

The cherry liqueur you ordered to go with your dessert is thick and sugary, a slight burn in your throat. It makes you brave.

"I want you to kiss my lips and taste how good this is." you whisper to him, glass in your hand, licking your lips.

"I can't, pretty girl." his voice is firm, and you take that as a challenge. He will taste cherry liqueur from your lips tonight. 

You eat the ice cream slowly, not breaking eye contact with the beskar helmet in front of you. You lean on the table on purpose, letting him enjoy the view of your cleavage squeezed in the tight black dress you are wearing, licking the spoon sensually every time, putting on a show for his enjoyment. You know he's watching and loving every single second of it.

You drink your sweet cherry liqueur, intentionally letting one drop spill over your mouth, only to collect it with your finger and spread it all over your plump lips, and only when they’re coated, you bring the fingertip into your mouth to lick it clean. You know how much he loves your lips, especially when they're wrapped around his thick cock. 

He watches still, leaning back against the booth where he’s sitting, arms crossed, chest moving regularly, not a sign of distress coming for him, apparently. You love teasing him like this in public. You know he's definitely rock hard under the table, and the thought of it turns you on so much, you can feel you’re already dripping between your legs.

When you are done with your show, you go to the restroom with the excuse to wash your hands and face. You do not realize until you stand up how much the liquor hit you. You're not drunk, just a bit dizzy, but it boosts your confidence, makes you feel like a bombshell and can feel his eyes glued to your hips that are swaying sensually, hugged by the light fabric of the revealing dress you are wearing, subtly inviting him to follow you, hoping he'd understand.

When you hear the door opening behind you, you turn around happily, thinking it's him.

It isn't. It’s an ugly mug who clearly does not know who you belong to, a grin on his face.

He tries to approach you blurting obscenities, but he can't even finish the phrase, the door behind him opens, and Mando enters.

"Is there a problem here?" The cold, intimidating tone of his masculine voice makes your pussy clench. Fuck - you love how badass and protective he is.

The creep grins at you, pissed off at the interruption, and turns around, only to find a fully armored Mandalorian staring at him, his hand on the blaster at his belt, ready to fire. He is always ready. So swift and scary.

"No" he answers, raising his hands "I was just leaving." the other man replies, immediately leaving the room, intimidated by the bounty hunter who just entered.

Can’t explain enough how much you love when he acts possessive towards you. He loves when you wear seductive and revealing clothes around him for everyone to see how hot you are, but when random men even just try to interact with you, he’s quick to assert his dominance and defend his property. You fucking belong to him.

The second the door closes behind him, Mando leans with his arm against the wall behind you, towering you. It’s intimidating and turns you on so much. You sigh in arousal and wrap your arms around his neck.

You feel his erection, rock hard against your lower belly.

'Mando..." You call him in an inviting tone.

"You're such a nasty girl. Teasing me in public in front of everyone. Making me hard." he whispers as he cups your cheek with his other hand. "What do I have to do with you?"

"Kiss me." You say, alcohol suddenly makes you brave. "Here. Now." you challenge him.

He clenches the hand he’s leaning on in a fist, staying still for a few seconds as you look at him, your eyes filled with desire. The music coming from outside fills the silence between you two.

"Close your eyes." he says firmly.

You obey, as you always do when he gives you orders.

He takes his gloves off and tosses them on the sink on his left, then he covers your eyes with one hand. You hear a hiss of air, and then you feel warm lips on yours. A slow, soft kiss that makes your knees weak, your head light and the air escape your lungs, leaving you breathless. You part your lips in a sigh of arousal and he pushes his tongue inside your mouth, tasting you just like you wanted. You let out a moan, he swallows it greedily and bites your lower lip, chuckling.

Your mouth tastes like cherry, vanilla and sin, he wants to taste it all, your lips tickled by his mustache. His other hand is wrapping around your neck, lightly choking you. The Mandalorian is dangerously bending the rules of his creed just to taste you, giving in to lust and desire. What adds even more to the excitement of it, is that he’s doing this in a public place, where anyone could enter at any moment and see him.

For a man who never removes his helmet, his kisses are to die for. Your hands travel to his jawline, masculine and well-defined, covered in a scruffy beard. His skin is so hot to the touch, his heart is racing, you can feel it with your fingers while running them on his neck. He lifted his helmet just enough to kiss you and you can't look at him, but you can feel him. That is more than enough. The more you kiss, the more you want to keep going. You can't stop kissing and moaning into each other's mouth. His body is pressed heavily on yours.

The door opens behind Mando, but he is quick to shut it with a back kick, never leaving your lips, on the contrary, kissing you even harder because he’s getting even more turned on, knowing that someone tried to enter, and keeping his foot on the door to prevent other incidents. His reflex is always so ready, always so alert. Curses from the outside, he won't let anyone in, not now that he is finally giving in and kissing you. It makes you so happy to know that you have him all to yourself.

He bites your lower lip. "You taste so good" growls between his teeth. Every time you hear his real voice, not distorted by a modulator, you get goosebumps. "So fucking good. My pretty girl." His voice is hot and dark, masculine and firm.

You giggle in his mouth and keep kissing him, wrapping one leg around his body, letting him rock his hips against yours and hump against your soaking wet entrance, and groaning in his mouth. He bites your lip grinning, hungry like a starving beast, knowing that you're already so wet and turned on just because of the kisses he's giving you.

You feel the dry humping will make you cum within seconds if it doesn't stop. When you are so close you could feel your heart racing and your face blushing, he suddenly stops and lowers his helmet back on. You whimper as you stop feeling his body on yours and his hand removed from your eyes. When he does, you see the beskar helmet looking at you, towering you as before. Mando then goes on his knees, slowly, you don't take your eyes off each other, he runs his hot hands on your thighs, under your dress, on your hips softly, making you sigh, his gentle touch is making you shudder. He grabs your soaked panties and takes them off, slowly, never interrupting eye contact. You take out one leg, then the other. He spreads your legs with his arms and looks at your swollen, throbbing, needy cunt.

"Mmm - so beautiful" he says, running one finger between your folds and pushing his middle finger inside your entrance, making you arch your back, squeeze your eyes shut and moan loudly. He starts fingering you slowly, but he is quick to speed up the pace.

Your panting and the wet, lewd noises your pussy makes as he fucks you with his finger fill the tiny room, and you're pretty sure people can hear from outside. He takes his finger out, followed by the hissing sound of him lifting his helmet, and then you feel a warm and wet tongue on your clit, making you gasp and groan deeply and way too loud. Everyone out there’s gonna know that the Mandalorian is making you feel so good. You feel so shameless, and you fucking love it.

"F-fuck!" you scream loudly as the Mandalorian grips your thighs and sinks into them with his mouth. You cover your mouth with your hands as he tastes how much you want him, humming in pleasure, the vibrations coming from his throat making your eyes roll over your head in pure ecstasy.

The way he eats you, as if he could never have enough, and keeps doing that for as long as he wants, tasting your sweet juices, taking all the time in the galaxy to reduce you to a whimpering, trembling mess, drives you fucking crazy.

You get so close to your orgasm already, your head gets dizzy, and when you're just there, he suddenly stops licking your clit. The sensation of the pre-orgasm rush leaving your body makes your legs shake in frustration and you desperately rock your hips looking for his mouth, but his iron grip on your thighs prevents you from moving one inch.

“Uh-uh. Not so fast” he whispers. You can feel his hot breath on your clit, just holding there as you tremble desperately.

And then, after a few seconds that seem to last like an eternity, he starts circling around your clit with his tongue, extremely slowly, carefully avoiding it, teasing you. When he feels that your body is calming down, he starts licking your clit once again, and then, when he feels you're getting closer, he fucking stops again, edging you once more. He kisses and bites your inner thigh, completely drenched in your arousal, and laughs sadistically at how much your body is begging for him.

He does that multiple times as a vengeance for teasing him so shamelessly in public. You are on the verge of tears, and your whole body is shaking, especially your legs, but his grip is so firm that it keeps you still and open wide over his mouth at his mercy.

"Please-please-please" you whimper desperately.

"What?" He asks in between slow, light licks around your clit.

"Please Mando make me cum" you cry out.

He does not answer. Only a single, swift lick on your swollen clit that makes your whole body jerk under his touch.

"Please, Mando! I'm begging you!" You sound so pathetic, he loves it. You hear a chuckle as he circles around your clit once again, then his middle finger is back inside your hot entrance, fucking you. Your pussy is so embarrassingly wet, you can feel your juices dripping down your inner thighs.

“You can only cum when I tell you so.” he says in between licks to your clit, the light touch of his lips making you shiver and sigh.

“P-please I c-can’t-” you try to articulate desperately.

“Hold it there.” he just doesn’t care how much you whimper. On the contrary, whimpering will only make this edging torture last longer.

He can hear your panting getting more and more out of control by the second.

“Yeah - hold it there” he loves having all this power on you.

You let out a deep sigh, trying to control the way your body reacts to his, but it’s impossible. You can’t focus on anything else apart from holding in your orgasm but you’re not sure how much further you can resist.

"Yeah mesh'la - cum. Cum for me." you can feel his hot breath against your pussy, and then his tongue is finally back on your clit, there to stay.

He pushes another finger inside and once again you feel the hot sensation of the orgasm building in your pussy, this time begging that he won’t stop.

"F-fuck Mando I-I’m-"

He purrs into your pussy and you finally cum into his mouth, your muscles desperately clenching around his fingers, your hands cover your mouth and muffle the screams of your orgasm, eyes so rolled back over your head, all you can see is pitch black darkness, you’re completely blown away by those few seconds of pure bliss.

By the time you are done, you are completely drained by pleasure and your head is spinning. He is licking dripping juices from your inner thighs, then he bites your soft flesh, humming, knowing he'll leave bruises only he'll be able to see, and finally he stands back up on his feet.

"Open your mouth" he says, you obey. You're still shaking and panting from how mind-blowing that was.

He sticks his two fingers coated in your arousal in your mouth and you sensually wrap them around your lips, pushing them deep in your throat.

"Yeah - like this" he says grinning satisfied as he watches you lick his fingers clean from tips to knuckle, his erection against your belly. He takes his fingers out and grabs your jaw, forcing your mouth open, and then he spits inside of it. You fucking love it, moaning at the feeling of being dominated that way, and swallow his saliva greedily. He slaps your face and chuckles. "What an obedient little slut." says, whispering in your ear, and then his tongue is again inside your mouth.

You can feel his mustache, lips and chin are wet from your arousal, his mouth now tastes like you, a warm and slightly salty taste that you don't mind. "Fuck. My pretty girl. Can’t ever get enough of you."

He kisses you for so long, taking all the time in the galaxy to make you feel like the most worshiped woman of the outer rim, cupping your face with his hands, caressing your cheeks, holding you tight and running his hands all over your body, wanting to feel every inch of you.

He lowers the helmet back on his face, then turns you around and bends you over the sink, in front of the mirror. 

“Open your eyes” he orders.

"Fuck" you whisper biting your lip, looking at how he towers over you, gripping your hips, feeling his rock hard erection grinding against your ass as his hips rock into yours.

He takes out his cock and starts sliding it between your folds and you can see fucking everything. You shake in anticipation and gasp. When he slowly inserts his dick inside of your needy, wet cunt you both moan shamelessly loud, not caring that anyone can hear you from outside, and when he starts thrusting into you, you go out of control and can't control how loud you're screaming.

"Quiet. Quiet, pretty girl." He puts one hand on your mouth, panting in your ear.

Your muffled screams seem to excite him even more. He is having fun sliding it in and out of you, painfully slow and groaning in your ear to drive you fucking crazy. He knows how much you love hearing him enjoying himself. The sound your dripping pussy makes when it takes it all in, greedily, desperately clenching around his thick cock, fills the room together with his hips rocking against your ass.

Having you bent like that, in front of the freshener's mirror, your leg on the sink, forced to look at the mess of you, blushing and sweaty, one of his hands on your thigh, the other one on your mouth, begging for the dick of that fully armored bounty hunter that terrified everyone out there, towering over you, turns you on so much and can’t take your eyes off the mirror. 

The banging on the door outside, the thought of someone wanting to enter, but it's blocked from Mando's foot planted firmly on the ground against it, knowing there's only a thin door separating your throbbing, needy cunt from the outside, all of those men looking at you earlier, hearing your screams and wishing they were the ones locked inside the bathroom with you, fucking you raw and dirty like the filthy whore that you are, but it's only the Mandalorian that you want, that can make you scream like this.

For a second he lifts his hand from your mouth, wanting to hear your voice.

"M-my - fuck - Mandalorian warrior, fucking me so good."

"Yeah?" You clench around him just by hearing his voice, his hand back on your mouth to muffle how much you are loving being fucked that way.

You take his hand and slide it towards your clit, but he slaps it away. You are so desperate, you want - no, you need - to cum again and start rubbing your clit with your own hand, only for him to take your hand away and cause you to whimper on the verge of tears for stimulation.

"Beg me." He orders, lifting his hand from your mouth so that he can hear you.

"P-please Mando make me cum, please, please" you whimper desperately.

He grins and achingly slowly moves his hand towards your slit, widening your pussy and starting to draw circles around your swollen clit with his middle finger, purposefully avoiding it to tease you.

It makes you shake and whimper desperately. Then he takes the soaked finger and puts it into your mouth.

"Yes, lick it all. Taste how much you want me."

You do, moaning and sucking and licking his finger clean. "Good girl." He slaps your face, then grabs your chin and forces you to lock your very same gaze in the mirror.

"I want you to look. Look at yourself when I make you cum."

His hand reaches your clit, starts rubbing it and you can't avoid arching your back and rolling your eyes in pleasure and letting out a deep moan.

He stops thrusting and massaging you, the hand holding your jaw grips tighter. "Hey. I told you to look." Then slaps you on the clit, making your body jerk and clench around him, making him gasp.

He starts thrusting and rubbing your clit again immediately after scolding you.

"When we're done, I - fuck - don't want you to put your panties back on. I want you to walk with my cum dripping down your legs. Everyone out there has to know that you're fucking mine." He growls between his teeth, his voice raspy through the modulator. That sentence takes you over the edge and you cum so hard, screaming with your mouth closed by his hand, gaze locked on yourself as he commanded. The muffled screaming is so loud, it fills the little room.

"Cyar'ika" he growls as soon as he feels your cunt rhythmically clenching around him. "Do you see how fucking beautiful you are when you cum for me? F-fuck I-I-" he muffles his scream gritting between his teeth as he cums, his cock is pulsing, his seed is spilling hot inside of you, but he keeps riding through both of your orgasms. 

He leans on you, panting and holding you tight, his dick still throbbing into your pussy. When he takes it out, you feel his seed slowly dripping from your inner thighs.

"Turn around." He orders, still panting.

You do, and he sits you on the sink and spreads your legs open.

"Fuck. So beautiful." He is mesmerized by the sight of your pussy filled by him, still clenching in waves of aftershock. He runs his fingers on your inner thighs to collect all the drops of seed that escaped and pushes them back into your opening. He has some fun with it, you can tell he is grinning under the helmet, then he brings his fingers to your mouth and you obediently suck them clean, tasting the lust of you both.

When you get out of the bathroom, you feel everyone's eyes on you two. You've never done anything so shameless and nasty in your life, and you fucking loved it. Every second of it.

You walk towards the exit, Mando behind you, his hand wrapped around your hip. You feel his cum dripping down your legs and you wonder if the people looking at you are noticing. Mando's words echo in your head. Everyone out there has to know that you're fucking mine. He definitely made sure of that. You can’t help smiling.

#the mandalorian #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x female reader #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian smut #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #mando smut #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin smut #this is my first fanfic #din x reader #decembermidnight

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝟎'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: mention of one slur, (that is reclaimable don't come for me twitter), homophobia, death, etc

↳ song: american pie—don mclean

masterlist!

• Compared to the old giants that were London and Rome, Derry was an infant in terms of age

• But it didn't feel that way. The whole town had this sort of tint to it, like the stain of coffee on white paper—or the quality of an old polaroid that had been stuffed away and forgotten

• You had lived there most of your life. Gone to Derry Elementary, Derry Middle, would go on to attend Derry High, and would probably travel on to the closest college you could find to the area—unless something drastically changed that, of course

• It was almost like the whole place had a grip on its residents. And it wasn't like the comforting grip of your mother's hand as she led you through the grocery store. It was a harsher one. A cold and clamy grip, holding you tightly in place until you rotted away working a minimum wage job with no future in sight

• So thank god you had stumbled across the losers in your last year of middle school and changed just about everything

• It had been the last week of school when you had stupidly picked a fight with the biggest knothead in school and his gang of pimple faced idiots, figuring that if you were going to die anyway, might as well do it young

• Your school books had gone sprawling across the freshly waxed school hallway one fateful afternoon in May, the disaster courtesy of Derrys biggest doucuebag Henry Bowers

• In fact, you had told him he was such a thing to his face, which would be the reason you were currently being subjected to the pleasure of watching as Henry and his goons ripped up all of your school papers in front of everyone

• Math homework, eat your heart out

• You didn't, however, expect a stuttering voice to speak up from your left not long after watching the science paper you had worked so hard on get ripped to shreds

• "Guh-guh-guh-get fu-fucked Bowers!" A lanky kid spat out from your left, drawing most people's attention over to his blazing brown eyes instead of Henry's ugly mud colored ones

• You recognized your knight in shining armor, so to speak, as the infamous stuttering Bill Denbrough. He wasn't an unfamiliar face to you—in fact, you were pretty sure the two of you had homeroom together. But until that moment you'd never given him a second thought beyond asking to borrow a pencil

• Bill wasn't alone, either. Three more kids stood idly behind him, each one looking more anxious than the last. You'd later learn all their names to be Stan, Eddie, and Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier—the man of a hundered voices as he'd introduce himself. But right then, they were just more people to add to this already overcrowded shitshow

• "Muh-my buh-buh-bad Billy." Henry mocked Bill's stutter poorly, crossing his eyes crudely while he did it. "Duh-did I mess with one of yuh-your fag fruh-fruh-fruh-friends?"

• The shrill chorus of giggles that his friends let out at his words were like nails on a chalkboard to you

• "Takes one to know one." Richie had mummbled under his breath sourly, pushing the thick glasses he wore up his nose anxiously. The only people who heard him couldn't help but break up into a fit of sudden giggles—who of which just so happened to be you and Bill

• Both of you were found sporting black eyes the next day

• Ever since that odd school day, you had found yourself spending more and more time with each of them

• Riding bikes with Bill in his street as you got left in the dust by him and Silver, listening as Eddie rambled on nervously about all of the weird sicknesses he had gotten, furiously smashing buttons on arcade games in an attempt to beat Richie at least once, helping Stan organize all of his comics by color and alphabetical order—all became a part of your summer routine

• You quickly became a part of the losers club. Another peice to the odd puzzle you all made together. And you'd be lying if you didn't say it felt damn good

• It was only after Ben and the others showed up that things began to get both better and worse

• For starters, you had begun to see red balloons and dead kids everywhere—a detail that would later become a much bigger issue

• But you also found yourself making three entire new friends, which including Stan, Eddie, Richie and Bill, was the most you'd ever had

• Hot summer evenings down in the barrens and, eventually, the clubhouse now had a new sense of comradery to it

• You enjoyed talking with Beverly about certain book series the both of you kept up with and what songs she could play on the piano. Asking Mike about all the adventures he had gone on after hard days of farm work became a highlight of your Saturdays. Pouring over books in the library with Ben quickly became one of your favorite activities, the two of you sharing recommendations with each other. Even the librarian eventually got old of the two of you whispering excitedly to each other about story lines and character development

• Occasionally Bill or Richie would bring another kid down to the barrens to play with. It would be fun, but you all were thinking the same thing throught it all—that they were not a part of the club. That title was reserved for only the eight of you. And it would stay that way

• Together, all of you would eventually have to beat a common enemy together, sacrificing parts of yourself with it. But for now, you were content to watch as sticky syrup from popsicle sticks dripped down into your hands while you all walked to the movies, laughing about god knows what, feeling like nothing else in the world mattered but each other

#im gay i can say fag dont fight me #it #it 2017 #it 2017 x reader #it x reader #bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak x reader #stanley uris #stanley uris x reader #mike hanlon #mike hanlon x reader #ben hanscom #ben hanscom x reader #beverly marsh #beverly marsh x reader #the losers club #the losers club x reader #x reader #headcanons

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

It was only supposed to be a One night stand (part 7)

Tw: dubcon (towards Montgomery), yandere shenanigans, short chapter

Will u guys tip me if i set the Tumblr tipping system up

part 8

It was a long trip. It still is going on.

Montgomery parked his car perfectly within the box, you panned to the side window to see an old, run-down diner. But it's obviously still popular as the parking lot is mostly filled.

Snow coated the ground and on the cars, you're glad that you wore extra layers.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and rushed out of his door. Montgomery ran to the passenger side and opened the door for you, just like usual.

Montgomery offered his hand for you to take, you pretended not to see it as you exit the car yourself. He lets hid hand drop to his side as disappointment flashed across his face.

He opened the door for you, letting you enter before himself. Montgomery asked you where you wanted to sit, you chose the table nearest to you. He rushed over to pull your seat out, Montgomery waited for you to sit on it before gently pushing you towards the table.

You think he has this, almost cartoonish idea of being a gentleman. You appreciate it, but as a city person in this day and age, you're finding it... unusual.

You picked up the menu and scanned through it. Montgomery didn't, he just stared at you dreamily. Even if it's been close to a year, he was still madly in love with you, finding everything you do amazing and arousing.

Or maybe it's the fact that you both fucked like rabbits in the motel last night. Contributing to their dubious stains on the sheets, walls and carpets. The friction was keeping you warm on these winter nights, so you kept going even way past the point of overstimulation for Montgomery. He had tears in his eyes and begged you to stop, but you didn't. He pleaded and pleaded, even weakly trying to push you away until he passed out, then you stopped.

You woke up to him being extra cuddly and affectionate, much to your surprise. You thought he would be at least a little upset that you practically forced yourself onto him last night. He disregarded your apology and said it was the best night of his life and that you were stunning from below.

He tried initiating another session, but you said that you were hungry. Montgomery agrees and decides to pack up for the next stop.

The waitress came by and took your orders. He ordered deep fried chicken on a bed of sugary waffles, smothered in syrup and drenched in a river of butter. At 9 in the morning. You ordered something else, if you wanted some cardiac arresting agents, you could always steal from his plate.

Once the waitress leaves, his attention is promptly brought back to you.

"I love you." He leaned forward and whispered. A wide smile appears on his face.

You waited. Scrolling through your phone endlessly as he observes you, stroking your free hand with his thumb.

"I can't wait for ya' to meet my ma and pa." He spoke, loud enough to pierce through the chatter in the diner, but quiet enough to not draw any attention.

You looked up at him, thinking this will lead to him telling something about himself.

"They'll love ya', sweetheart." He continued.

You told him that you bet he told the same thing to the rest of his exes.

He frowned and stopped caressing your hand.

"I... I ain't got any exes. You're my first everything, remember?"

You find that hard to believe. You said that he isn't bad looking, he's tall and strong, he must have some going after him.

He shook his head.

"Nobody wanted me around. I reckon they thought I was some dumb Hillbilly spreadin' some... ridiculous disease."

You asked who told him that.

"Most of em'." He looked uncomfortable, beginning to clam up and look away from you.

You asked about the people in his hometown. Surely, he must have at least a fling or two, right?

"All the pretty boys snatched them all up. Leavin' none for uglies like me." He touched his face and darted his eyes away from the reflective surface of the window.

You decided to bring the topic about last night up again. Recognizing that you have gone too far and you should have stopped when he said no.

"You did nothin' wrong!" He cut you off mid sentence. "I was happy." Montgomery enveloped your hands with his, setting your phone aside. "You make me happy..."

He brought your knuckles to his lips, kissing it before pressing the back of your palm against his cheek. "No one has ever wanted me like this. You're my first, and my last."

His last? It's definitely too soon to say. Montgomery doesn't think so.

"You're my one and only. I don't want anyone else." He tenderly nibbled on your fingers.

Maybe it's not a good time to break it to him that he's not your first and certainly not your last.

The conversation was interrupted when the waitress arrived to place the dishes down. It was of monstrous proportions and you doubt you can even finish your own plate, seeing how it's swimming in it's own puddle of grease.

He cuts a piece into his stack of waffles and stabbed a gigantic piece of chicken with his fork. Instead of eating it, he placed it on your already full plate.

"It's real good, try it." He smiled. "Lemme know if you want more."

You will definitely tell him, alright.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc Montgomery #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent

[yovrstruly00]

tainted faces

What if Lucerys Velaryon was born a girl? AND that Aemond Targaryen is head over heels for her instead!

tainted faces | part two

tainted faces | part three

tainted faces | part four

trigger warning: cursing, knives, injuries, Aegon smashing Lyssaera's head on the table, incest (uncle x niece),,

genre: angst?? idk, possible enemies to lovers,,

Lyssaera Velaryon, Aemond fumes at the sight of her. The one who slashed his face with a blade and took his eye. The one who made him look like this, the one who made him hideous to look at. How can someone so beautiful be the source of all his pain?

Aemond scans her carefully during supper, as she grins and smirks when a roasted pig is placed before him. He slams his fist on the table and takes his goblet, drawing the attention of everyone in the dining hall. He raises his goblet, starting a toast.

"A final tribute," he starts. "To the health of my nephews and niece, Jace, Lyssaera, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, beautiful, wise..." he pauses as he purses his lip.

"strong," he continued, mockery behind his voice.

"Aemond" the queen calls out to him.

"Come! Let us drain our cups to these three strong-" he said, but was cut off by Jacaerys.

"I dare you say that again." Jacaerys taunted.

"Why? It was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?" The whole table gasped when Jacaerys took his fist to Aemond's face. Lyssaera stood up, but Aegon crashed her head on the table, making Alicent shout at him.

"Enough!" Alicent shouts. Aemond chuckled as the guards restrained Jacaerys. "Why would you say such a thing in front of these people?" Alicent rushed to Aemond. "I was nearly expressing how proud I am of my family mother, but it seems my nephew and niece aren't quite as proud of theirs." Aemond said.

"You fucking cunt! Let go of me!" Lyssaera shouts at Aegon, who is still holding her down. Aegon scoffs and releases Lyssaera. Once Aegon released his hold on her, she slapped Aemond on the face.

"Lyssaera!" Daemon shouted, making his way to his stepdaughter. Lyssaera made a mistake looking back at him. Aemond took his blade from the knife holster attached to the belt on his waist as held her neck, choking her.

"Aemond let her go!" Alicent and Rhaenyra shouted. Aemond did not hesitate swiftly slicing Lyssaera's cheek, making her scream in pain. Aemond was pulled away by his grandfather, just as Lyssaera was caught by Daemon. Lyssaera's screams filled the whole dining hall. Blood was running down her neck, arms, and to her dress. Rhaenyra and Jacaerys rushed towards Lyssaera as she was crying in pain. The salt in her tears touched her sliced skin. Daemon stood in front of his family and Aemond.

"Painful isn't it? This seems all too familiar, don't you agree? Look at yourself, we are now both terrifying to look at. Scarred for a lifetime. No men or lords will wed you in that condition. No man will wed a woman like you, a woman with a hideous scar on her face." Aemond hissed, anger evident in his voice. He didn't care about the angry eyes on him. At the moment, all he cared about was her. The way she was looking at him. The hatred and pain in her eyes. Aemond looked at the sliced skin, the slice running from the upper point of her cheek to her upper lip, it was deep, deep enough to leave an ugly scar. A scar that will remind her of him.

That late in the night, Lyssaera's wails filled the Red Keep as well as Aemond's ears. He cringes as he recalls the night when Lyssaera took his eye. That night, while the maesters were stitching up his eye and skin, he cried out in agony. Guilt consumes him as he considers how he ruined her dangerously beautiful yet angelic face. A beauty for which any man would die for. A beauty for which any man would fight for. But Aemond is not simply a man, because men do not ride dragons. And with this, he would not let any low life man pursue his Lyssaera. He smirks at the thought that no man would wed her because of the scar he carved out on her face. A scar that will remind every living person that Lyssaera Velaryon was his and only his.

#ewan mitchell #house of the dragon aemond #aemond kinslayer #prince aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x lucerys #game of thrones #house of the dragon #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #hotd #aemond imagines #aemond targaryen imagines #ameond targaryen fic #aemond fic #song of ice and fire #tainted faces #yovrstruly23 #osferth #tom bennett

[fandxmslxt69]

Daisy (modern, small town AU)

mechanic!Frank castle x f!sunshine!reader

Warnings: Frank's an asshole lmao. UM me making up shit as I go about cars (i dont know enough abt them okay). Um, Frank works at an automobile shop/garage (he owns it more like but whatever). WRITTEN IN LIKE 3 HOURS AND AN IDEA THAT WAS BIRTHED THIS MORNING. Some swearing, lazy descriptions, probably HORRIBLE structure but idc idc idc.

Synopsis: You just moved to a small town, and just your luck, your car breaks down after a few errand runs. You have no choice but to go to the town's official Mr. Grumpy (Frank) to ask for help.

Word count: 1.8k (WHOOPS)

A/N: BAHAHAH SO THIS WAS BORN LIKE THIS MORNING/LAST NIGHT and i could NOT get the idea out of my head so I had to do SOMETHING about it. Yeah, there'll probably be more to this but FIRST, i have to go study after putting it off to finish this. SORRY IT MIGHT BE SOOO FUCKING OOC AND CRINGE BUT I WAS TOO LAZY TO WRITE IT PROPERLY! this is kind of just a set up/build up bit it gets BETTER promise promise anyway was this just me reading like 10 small town romances and going "all of them, but with Frank?" yeah basically, you're welcome.

Tags: YEAH um @soft-girl-musings its kinda your fault for encouraging me (im kidding ily) and um @runa-falls cuuuz yknow you <3 and Frank <3

Imagine a modern AU in a small little town where Frank owns the only garage there. It’s just a small happy town with a little community that grew up with each other- everyone knows Frank as Mr Grumpy- he’s always got that frown and those eyebrows knitted together in annoyance. 

Imagine you’re new in town and you feel just a bit out of place in this tightly knitted community. You try to make some friends, but it’s hard fitting into already tight social circles. 

Imagine your car breaking down on your way home from a grocery run. The front of smoking and its making weird jumbling and rumbling noises. You leave the car quickly, not wanting to be inside of it in case something goes wrong. You’re nowhere near your house, and the cute sandals you’re wearing are in no shape to walk the rest of the way. You really don’t want to barge into a random shop and ask for help. But you notice, a little far from the rest of the shops in town, a little store with an ugly neon sign that said GARAGE in big, flickering red letters. You sigh heavily, making sure to grab your keys from the car, along with your purse and phone, lock it, and start walking towards the shop. 

Imagine walking into the little automobile shop to find it pretty much deserted. The walls were lined with different tires, tools and various car parts lined the little room with a small area left unlittered for the cash register. And yet, there was no one to man the station. You walk around, feeling hopeless, until you hear voices coming from behind the door at the back of the room. 

Imagine walking through the door hesitantly into a big garage, and you’re greeted with the sight of a gorgeous shirtless man in loose jeans stained in grease stains. He’s bent over a car and wiping the windshield while a radio beside him blasts some country tunes. You stood in the doorway, mouth hanging slightly open at the sight. Who could blame you? His hair looked so soft, and from what you could see, his face was probably just godly. He looked heavenly,and he clearly didn’t hear you come in from how loud the music was. You clear your throat lightly, clutching the strap of your purse tightly. “Um, excuse me-” you say as quietly as you can, not entirely sure you want to draw his attention. Yet somehow he still hears you. His eyes snap up to meet yours and the look of peace on his face immediately transforms into a look of permanent annoyance. 

Shit. He does have a pretty face. A sculpted jawline and a little stubble lined his jaw. Pretty eyes too. 

Imagine the way his eyes would roam over you. Your hair held back in a little ponytail, your short blue sundress with daisies that barely just reaches your thighs. The way his pretty lips would set in a hard line and his jaw clenches, and while his eyes take in your pretty look, the way that dress rides up your thigh whenever you take a step, you can see his jaw tick and the frown lines forming. 

“Yes?” He said slowly, one eyebrow raised. 

“Um,” You shuffled a bit, carefully stepping into the garage, but making sure to keep a distance from him and the car. “Um, my uh, my car broke down, and I kind of need help,” 

He wipes his hands on the towel tucked into the pocket of his jeans, walking around the car to stand in front of you. Well, more like tower over you. He was, to put it simply, enormous. At least 6 foot something with broad shoulders and a deliciously sculptured and defined chest. His muscles weren’t the pretty boy skinny things you’d see at the gym- his biceps looked big enough to crush a man’s skull, and his chest looked comfy enough to use as a pillow. 

He clears his throat, and you realise you missed a question. You look up (practically STRAINING your neck) to meet his eyes. He definitely looks frustrated. Maybe he's annoyed that he has to repeat himself. 

Imagine how mean he’d be about it- he doesn’t mean to be rude, or to come off as an asshole. He definitely didn’t mean to act as if your lack of knowledge in this situation bothered him. Normally he didn’t care, but the way you looked up at him with big worried eyes and the anxious fiddling of your hands just…ticked him off. He certainly doesn’t mean how condescending his tone is, but he just can’t help it. Pretty girls fucked him in the head. 

“What’s wrong with your car, doll?” 

You fiddled with a strand of your hair. “Um, I don’t actually know,” He lets out an annoyed grunt, running a hand down his face. “Where’d it stop?” “Um, just a little back,” You pointed behind you. “Not too far. I don’t know, it started smoking and making weird noises. Assumed it was bad, so I came here,” He shakes his head, throwing the towel in his hand to the side and grabbing a shirt from one of the chairs. “Yeah sweetheart, that is very bad,” 

“Okay well, I figured,” You hesitated. “Can you uh, can you fix it?” “Depends,” He grunted, pulling the shirt over his head. He’d walk past you out front to grab his truck keys from the cash desk, making a couple more caveman noises to indicate that you should follow him. 

Imagine getting to his truck and you stand there awkwardly because there’s no fucking way you could get in there. It’s too high up, and you sure as hell can’t just jump into it. You throw your purse in, brace your hands on the door, and try to lift your leg high enough to reach the step. 

Imagine Frank getting so fucking pissed when your dress rides up to barely even cover the curve of your ass and he just places his (very big, very warm) hands on your waist and hauls you up, firmly sitting you on the chair and slamming the door shut. 

Imagine how the short drive to where your car stopped is just filled with really awkward silence as you clutch your purse to your chest. Frank's got the radio on, an arm hanging out the window, but his other hand on the steering wheel is holding it so tightly his knuckles are turning white. And he looks almost calm, if not for the way he’s clenching his jaw so hard you think he might shatter his teeth. 

You pull up to your car, and Frank whistles quietly as he gets out of his truck and walks over to examine it. “What d'ya do to this thing?”

You practically hopped out of the truck, frowning. “Nothin’! I didn’t even do anything. I was just driving back home and it broke down,” 

“Well ya must’ve done somethin’ if she broke down this bad,” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “Can you open the front?” 

“What if it like- explodes on you? What then?” You ask horrified. That’s a horrible impression to leave on someone.

“Not gonna explode, now open the damn front,” 

You nod hesitantly, unlocking the car to open up the front. He tries to blow away the smoke with his hand, but it’s really no use. “Yeah, might need to take it back to the garage,” 

“But-” You felt your bottom lip wobbling. How could everything go to shit so fast. “I need to get home!”

Despite how grumpy Frank wanted to stay, he can’t help soften when it’s clear how panicked you felt. He knew you were the newest person in town, and he also knew he’d have everyone on his ass if he didn’t try and help a little more. 

But he’s still gonna be an ass about it. “I’ll drive you back to your house and send someone for your car, no need to cry ‘bout it, doll,”

You nod hesitantly, taking a few deep breaths. “Okay. Okay, thank you,” And then you smiled this shy, grateful smile at him and he felt like the air was knocked right out of his lungs. You were gorgeous, he knew that, but looking at you now he felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him. You looked….cute. And he wanted to keep that smile on your face. Shit. Imagine Frank realising just how fucked he is, having to help such a cute and pretty girl out, he’d just shut himself off even more. His frown deepens and he only communicates in grumbles and grunts as he drives you back home and calls someone to come pick up your car. He only holds out his hand to ask for your keys- not even uttering a word, just holds out those really sexy hands. He just sits in his truck with his arm out the window as you hop out of the seat and make your way up your porch. He feels so screwed. Even your house looked cute. 

“Thank you,” You call out to him.

He raises a hand in return and then he pulls out from in front of the house and drives back to his shop. 

You falter a bit, feeling a tad stung at how shut off he is. Maybe not everyone is as open as you were, but he could have at least smiled. You sigh, walking into your house and dropping your purse at the door. You discard your shoes, and head to the kitchen to grab a couple snacks and collapse on the couch, feeling overall exhausted and drained from the whole day. Maybe you won’t have to see Grumpy for another few days- just so you could cool down. 

The landline rings a few minutes after, and you frown. Who the hell would have the landline’s number? You get up and answer the phone. “Hello?” “Hey daisy, it’s Frank. You left your groceries in the car,” Frank’s voice fills your ear (god he sounds so…so hot) 

Your eyes widen and you gasp in shock. “Fuck, I did!” 

He hums in response. “Yeah. Bet you need those, don’tcha?” 

You nod slowly. “Yeah, I kind of do,”

There’s commotion from Frank’s side, it sounds a lot like someone yelling at him. He sighs heavily. “Alright daisy, I’ll figure somethin’ out f’r you,” And then he hangs up. 

Daisy? Figure it out? And why was it so oddly comforting to know he could handle this without you needing to worry?

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x f!reader #the punisher #jon bernthal

[lloydfrontera]

do you know how fucking mad i am at the fact that the webcomic gave us lloyd giving javier his own mana in an attempt to save his life and javier overcoming literal dimensional differences in order to be able to accept it into his body effectively foreshadowing how far he's willing to go just to be able to protect lloyd,,,, but they did it all with a fucking 'haha lloyd is ugly' joke. do you.

this could've been one of the best scenes in the entire thing. it could've been such a pivotal point for their character development. it could've been one of the most earnest moments in the story. but it's made into a joke because they just need to draw the ugliest faces possible to make a cheap joke that has been made a hundred times already. i'm not being funny i'm genuinely mad at the wasted potential lmao

the tone of the scene was changed from the webnovel so much it's almost unrecognizable. and not in a good way. like. why would you cheapen the emotional core of your own story like this. do you trust your own plot and characters so little to keep your readers engaged with the story that you feel the need to make everything in a joke. is that it. was the original story not funny enough to keep your attention so you think no one will care if you turn what's meant to be an earnest and heartwarming scene into a joke you've made hundreds of time before.

i'm not. mad. about the changes themselves (mostly). like i said this particular scene had so much potential to compliment the original story and foreshadow the ending that i'm actually upset that the tone and art made it so i can't in good faith say i like it.

they just. shot themselves in the foot by trying to make the scene funny. all the tension and emotional built up is wasted when the webcomic makes fun of itself. it cannot take itself seriously so i can't either.

like. it was going so well. i loved the built up with the scene where they talk about javier's parents and you see that they're still emotionally guarded with each other, they don't quite feel close enough to the other to call themselves friends even when we know that they care deeply for each other. i liked that they changed it so lloyd had the opportunity to save javier the way he wasn't able to in the novel. i even liked the development with lloyd's mana being so different from javier's that he struggles with accepting it, cause it was a chance to call forward to a very important event in the future.

the scene where they're reaching for each other as they realize that yes, they're friends and god help them they will save their friend no matter what?? gorgeous i loved it so much, it wasn't 'We'll be together forever, just like we've always been. Casually. As natural as breathing air.' yeah but it was perfectly okay on it's own too.

and then they do this.

like. what.

all that emotional built up, all that tension, all of it,,, for this?? this????

what's the point of making your audience feel emotionally engaged with the story if you're just gonna make the art equivalent of a fart noise. a well executed yet still completely out of place fart noise lmao

it doesn't feel funny, it just makes me feel like i wasted my time being emotionally invested in something that isn't interested in delivering. it's like watching someone setting up dominoes to topple them in a gorgeous pattern only for them to put on clown shoes and start kicking them all over the place without rhyme or reason. like yeah they're in their right but then what was the point of all that work in the first place.

and yeah maybe it's my fault for expecting something earnest and heartfelt from a webcomic that has shown multiples times that it's not interested on that but like. is it really too much to expect for an adaptation to, well, adapt the original source in a way that doesn't feel like it's making fun of it??

#i talk a lot <3 #tged #the greatest estate developer #lloyd frontera #javier asrahan #i'm just. so sad. and angry. and tired. #this is not fun anymore asjdhkjasa

[stratossphere]

do you have a part 2 planned to the jealously v.v fic? because 👀 people would kill for a jealous smut

mine. | v.v

ville’s jealousy doesn’t take much to rear its ugly head. and you know it.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), enough possessiveness to kill a man, getting walked in on, blatant exhibitionism

word count: 7.7k (sorry!!! plot!!!)

a/n: this isn’t exactly a pt. 2, but it is a jealous smut! sorry it took so long to get to this ask but this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so here you go :)

tags: @asskickedbygirl @lieutenant-cinnamon-roll @kissofdawn666 @brandons-wife @valos-venus-doom @ghoulishguns @4377666 @d34c1

— —

Sometimes, you wondered how the hell Ville had so many 'friends'. All around the world, wherever you went together, he always knew somebody. And, tonight in Amsterdam, he apparently knew a lot of people. He insisted they weren't his friends, because Ville was about the opposite of a people person, and yet they acted like long lost brothers when they'd all seen each other after HIM's show.

And, of course, you were the only girl in the entire apartment that we had migrated to for the night. Everyone else was either a member of a band you'd never heard of or was a tattoo artist of some kind, and everyone was either ridiculously trashed or smelled ridiculously bad.

So yeah. The night was going great.

You were currently sitting on a couch with what had been Ville and some dude that he'd apparently done shows with on HIM's first ever tour, but Ville kept getting up, so you kept being left alone with his grimy friend. Who clearly had a thing for you, because every time Ville would get up for something, his arm would move to rest on the back of the couch behind your head.

"I’ve never seen a woman that could hold real drinks like you can.” Sometimes men made you wonder how they ever caught any game. This guy especially, considering how many times he’d tried lines on you in the short amount of time Ville had been away from your side.

"How many women have you seen?" You were trying to hold an unbothered tone despite being extremely uncomfortable and extremely close to snapping on this guy, but you couldn't help but make a tiny, unnoticeable dig. He leaned into the arm behind you a little more, and you silently prayed that Ville would come back with the drink he had left to go get soon.

"I'm around one right now. I'm just saying, I'm impressed." He grinned like he'd just nailed the best compliment ever given, and all you did was sigh and take a long sip of your drink as you looked away from him again.

"Thanks." Great. Your drinking skills had impressed someone that probably shot up on his weekends. You didn't want to think too hard about what that had to say about you.

"So, how long have you and Ville been together?" Jesus Christ. It seemed like men who assumed girls would fuck them just because they were confident never had any humility. It made you glad you had ended up dating the man who was about as uninterested in using his lead-singer position to impress or manipulate as one could possibly get.

"A few years. So uh, pretty serious." You said, giving him a pointed look and then glancing at his arm where it was getting painfully close to being around your shoulders. He obviously didn't take the hint, and it felt like he was only leaning in closer.

"Yeah? Where'd he go?" That was clearly a pointed statement, and as you leaned a little bit away whilst considering how much of a problem it would cause if you just nailed this fucker right in the face, you suddenly spotted your saving grace coming back into the living room as he loudly talked to some other dude that was in the same band as the guy sitting next to you. You breathed out a sigh of relief as you pointed right towards Ville.

"He's right there." Your movement seemed to draw Ville's attention, and as soon as he was actively looking in your direction, you gave him a look that pleaded for him to get you out of the situation that he had left you in. As soon as his eyes moved from you to the guy sitting ridiculously close by this point, he stopped talking and his jaw squared. You immediately felt the guy's arm withdraw from behind you when he followed where you were pointing.

"Oh, uh...Jesus. He really knows how to sneak up on a fucker." He tried to play his nervousness off with a laugh, but you could see him subtly moving away from you with every step that Ville took towards the both of you. "Hey, man! Did you bring beers for all of us?"

"It's for her. Get fucking lost." He had shifted into full death-stare mode, and he was standing directly in front of the guy with a beer in each hand. You held a hand over your mouth to cover your grin as the guy spluttered in the face of your boyfriend looming over him.

"What—"

"Get fucking lost. You're in my spot." This time Ville motioned aggressively for him to get up, and you had never seen a person move faster in your life as he shot up from the couch. Ville shouldered him as the guy walked past, muttering something you couldn't hear before he was replacing his spot on the couch and immediately wrapping his arm around your shoulders with that stare still on his face. "And don't fucking look over here, either."

Once again, you had your hand over your mouth to hide your beaming grin, and the guy just tried to act like he was scoffing Ville's snap at him off before he walked away.

"You should've came and got me." Ville said through his teeth as he opened your beer for you before handing it over. You rested your cheek against his shoulder, thankful to have him back next to you again so that you weren't stuck alone surrounded by kind-of disgusting rockstars.

"I mean, what do you expect, babe? I'm the only girl in this entire apartment right now." You said calmly, not really all that affected by it now that Ville was next to you again. He only let out a huff.

"I don't give a shit. It makes me want to fucking kill someone when you get that look on your face." He said tightly, referring to the uncomfortable look you’d given him when he'd come into the living room. You leaned up to kiss his cheek, smiling against his skin.

"You're so sweet." You cooed, noticing that despite the fact that you were giving him a kiss, he in no way acknowledged you or even glanced in your direction. Upon following his gaze, you realized that he could still see the guy that had now moved to the kitchen, and he was still staring. You ran a hand over his hair. "Ville. Honey, relax. It's okay."

"No it's not. No one needs to be getting that close to you." He muttered, finally looking at you when you continued to push his hair back out of his face and behind his ears. "I'm surprised you put up with it for that long."

"Well, he's your friend. I didn't want to start a big thing." You shrugged, wrapping your arm around his shoulders so that you could be closer to him where his was still wrapped around yours while you drew your legs up to your chest. He spat out a scoff at that.

"That dick is not my fucking friend. And even if he was, I still wouldn't care. You could punch Mige if he ever got that close and I'd understand." He insisted, speaking fast and harshly out of hatred. "I shouldn't have brought you here. I promise I won't leave you until we're ready to go."

Thankfully, with every beer that he drank, Ville seemed to lose interest in his proclaimed worst enemy for the night, and you finally felt able to relax as he slowly gave up the hatred that had been brimming inside of him. That was, until Mige showed up with an apprehensive look on his face.

“Uh…I’ve got something you probably want to know.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced back toward the kitchen. You let out a sigh as Ville perked up at that, his hand slipping under your shirt to rub your lower back where his arm had moved to wrap loosely around your waist. He was clearly trying to relax you, but you had already noticed the way he was heating up all over again. It didn’t take much. Mige motioned for you to lean in like he was going to tell you a secret.

"You know Esa? The drummer who used to huff spray paint?" He said, motioning back like you were going to see him standing right behind him. You immediately felt Ville fully stiffen next to you before he was wrapping his arm around your shoulders and almost around your neck as a result, and using your innate ability to pick up context clues, you assumed that Esa was who had been sitting next to you on the couch.

"What. What the fuck did he do." All of that animosity that had been in Ville's voice 15 minutes ago had come violently shooting back, and you rolled your eyes as you shoved your fingers between you and Ville's arm so that he wasn't squeezing you so tight and possessively.

"He is talking ridiculous amounts of shit about you in the kitchen. Things that we wouldn't even say." Mige announced, shaking his head as he said it. His tone of voice told me he didn't exactly feel great about saying that in the face of what was becoming Ville's furious stare. "And he's uh...talking about your 'hot ass' girlfriend."

Ville immediately moved like he was going to stand up, but you stopped him with a tight hand on his arm, giving him a look that warned him not to act impulsively. Ville usually lost sight of his senses when he was even the slightest bit irritated. Especially when it involved you.

"Y/n, let me go." He was speaking through his teeth, and he pulled in your grasp but not actually standing up. Mige watched this with amusement in his eyes but didn’t yet interject as you bickered back and forth with your overzealous boyfriend.

"You promised you wouldn't leave me again, so don't." You warned, tipping your head so that you could give him a death stare. "Take a fucking pill, Ville. Everything is fine."

"Yeah. Take a fucking pill, Ville." Mige goaded, snickering when he saw Ville force himself to relax under your direction. Ville did, however, reach out his long leg and kick Mige's chair back a good foot or so.

This was clearly not working for calming Ville’s nerves, and you sighed before excusing both him and yourself to give him some space to decompress. You knew he was more than antsy, and that the incident with Esa had thrown him off indefinitely for the night, so you were quick to get him alone for everyone else’s sake.

So, a few minutes later in the bathroom, you turned on him with an unimpressed look on your face.

"What's wrong, honey?" You asked, biting the bullet because he clearly looked both incurably miserable and uneasy. He immediately spun around so that he was fully facing you.

"I want to strangle that fucking cunt and then drown him in a puddle of my fucking piss." He spat, one fist clenching while he jabbed a finger back towards where the party was still going on past the bathroom door with his other hand. You snorted at that.

"That's really descriptive. Thank you." You said painfully, taking his hand where it was balled up in a fist and gently uncurling his fingers. "We can go if you've had enough."

"I'm not that much of a bitch." He sighed woefully, letting his hand fall limply at his side once you'd undone his angry fist and then continuing to mope as you moved behind him to press yourself against his back and wrap your arms around his hips over his belt.

"If it makes you feel any better, he’s really fucking ugly." You mumbled as you slipped your hands under his shirt to rub your warm palms over his even warmer stomach. Ville chuckled half-heartedly at that, a soft sigh escaping his lips at your touch.

"I'm not really a looks man." His joke came out dryly, but you laughed regardless, wishing you were tall enough to rest your chin on his shoulder but instead settling for your cheek resting against his shoulder blade.

"Let me rephrase. I'm only going to suffer through drunk party sex with one man tonight, and it certainly isn't Esa." You hummed, letting your hands fall still around his abdomen as you hugged him tightly and leaned up as high as you could go so that you could press a kiss right over the tattoo on the back of his neck. "Think horny instead of hateful, please."

"Ah, you always know the way to my heart, my love." He seemed to lighten a little bit at the word 'horny' leaving your mouth, because he was nothing if not someone who took an opportunity, and he quickly turned in your grasp with a soft smile on his face. "Am I being too much?"

"I think the 'piss puddle' part did it. You need to fucking relax and stop letting everything bend you out of shape." It had been too long of a day for you to word that nicely, but he usually didn't take the hint until he was forced to, so that actually worked well in your favor. He leaned down to kiss you when you slid a hand up to the back of his head to encourage him to do so, but his eyes were still troubled.

"I just fucking hate it that I can't even introduce you to anyone I know without feeling like I'm feeding you to a goddamn wolf's den." He complained, fisting a possessive hand in your hair as he looked down at you with a deep frown. You cooed, rubbing your thumb over his cheek where you were still cupping his jaw.

"Honey, I promise you're making it out worse than it really is. They're all men in their 20s. No man in his 20s comes on to women appropriately." You reassured, giving him a look because he was the pinnacle of that statement. A hint of a coy grin moved to his lips then, and he tucked his face further against your touch.

"It's a daily heartache to be so in love with the most beautiful woman to ever have been created, you know that? I get tired from having to keep back the hoards." He spoke in the verge of whining, and you full-on laughed at that, because he was sweet. Eternally grumpy, but so sweet.

“Are you going to be able to breathe normally out there? I’m really fine with leaving.” You reiterated, letting your hand drop because you knew you couldn’t stay cooped up in a bathroom forever. He blew out a scoff.

“Yes. I’m fine.”

However, he was not in fact fine. Because the second you and Ville re-emerged into the party, you were inexplicably being dragged to the kitchen. You knew he was lying when he said he needed another drink, and you settled with the fate that he was probably looking for Esa. All of your soothing had been for nothing, apparently.

“Please don’t. I don’t want to be a part of a fight.” You complained as Ville led you into the kitchen, stepping around couples standing way too close together to get to the drinks as you watched your boyfriend’s eyes scan the room. He just waved you off.

“I just want to talk to him.” He reassured, his words coming up empty because you could so clearly see the animosity building in his eyes once again. You frowned skeptically.

“I’m getting another beer. Leave me out of it. Seriously.”

You stepped apart from Ville then, letting him do whatever the fuck you clearly couldn’t stop him from doing as you genuinely just tried to find another beer. You were starting to wish this night would just end, because you knew it was right on the verge of turning into a shitshow, but this had mostly been for Ville. It wasn’t often you were in Amsterdam long enough to stop and say hi to anybody, and a good portion of the people at this party were truly his good friends.

But Ville had never been one to quit. And the ‘hot ass girlfriend’ comment that Mige had relayed to the both of you was clearly digging deep, because within a few seconds of searching around, you had lost him completely.

And, just your luck, someone else appeared to take his place.

And that someone else was Esa.

“Are you looking for the beer?” He seemed to sense your irritable confusion in such an overpacked house, but you could see that same hungry look in his eyes as he pointed you in the right direction. “I can make you something special, if you would be so inclined.”

“No thanks. I’m cutting off soon.” You lied, because you knew that you’d watch Esa lose limbs if Ville were to walk up on someone who was so deeply on his nerves making his girlfriend a ‘special’ drink. You weren’t going to encourage what you knew was going to be Ville’s overly-dramatic protective behavior, and you certainly weren’t going to add to it, either.

“Relax. You know, I’ve heard Valo’s girlfriends all do whatever the fuck they want because he never pays attention.” Well, it’s not like he was making it easy for you not to encourage what you knew was going to be a shit-storm when Ville finally found you. You also knew it wouldn’t take long for him to lose his shit.

“Well, Valo’s only got one girlfriend now, and I’d watch yourself with saying he never pays attention.” You said uninterestedly, starting to rip open a new case of European beer and silently wishing that Ville just didn’t have any friends at all. If he was just a little more bitchy, you would never have to go to these parties and play nice with rockstars who knew no boundaries.

“What? Is he supposed to scare me just because he’s your boyfriend or something?” The thought seemed to amuse Esa, but his laughing was short-lived when suddenly it felt as if a shadow had fallen over the both of you. You didn’t even have to look to your side to see who was there.

"What the fuck is that goddamn funny?” Oh yeah. Ville was pissed. And clearly in one of those moods that you knew always led to you breaking up a fistfight. You pushed a gentle hand against Ville’s chest where he was starting to swoop in on Esa like a vulture.

"Just go sit back down. I'll be back in a minute." You reassured, wishing that your fingers could get at the beer box faster to get you (and Ville) out of the goddamn kitchen.

"No. He can stay. If it’ll make you feel less insecure, Valo." And here started the dick measuring contest that you’d been doing your best to avoid. Ville bristled at that statement, and promptly got right in the way of you trying to get more beer. He was too busy glaring over your shoulder, however, and you had to shoulder him to the side because he ignored all your other attempts to get him to move.

"This is all shit fucking beer." Ville clearly pretended that he was talking to himself, but he was talking loud enough for the entire kitchen to hear. Esa scoffed and retorted something you couldn’t hear, but you were more focused on the fact that as you bent over to just grab a beer from an open box of a shittier brand, you felt Ville’s hand on your ass. You let out another huff.

"Go save our spot, Ville." You said tightly as you reached your foot back to nudge him away from you with your heel in his thigh. However, the conversation about you was continuing on without you, and Esa only spat his response to Ville’s insult towards his beer.

"Then maybe you should get out of the kitchen and stop following Y/n around like a fucking bitch." He crooned, shaking his head as he took a step closer to Ville. "You're right up my fucking ass."

"I'll get out of yours as soon as you get out of hers." Ville shot back, getting about three times as close as Esa had just as you stood back up with two beers in hand. "Did no one ever teach you how to shut your fat fucking mouth once in a while?"

"Enough! You both need to shut your fat fucking mouths." You cut that shit really quick where you could see it nearing violent territory, jabbing a finger first at Ville and then in between both of them. "Might as well whip your dicks out now and grab a measuring tape."

"I'm just saying, if you can bear to put your eyes anywhere other than her tits, then I'd be happy to drink your shit beer." Ville completely ignored you, as to be expected, and you quickly grabbed his wrist tightly where he had his arms crossed before starting to forcibly pull him away from the kitchen.

"You and I need to talk. Right fucking now." You snarled through your teeth, not giving either Esa nor Ville a chance to get another word in edgewise as you headed towards the hall. You were praying the first door you saw was unoccupied, because you really didn't feel like going in on Ville in the bathroom, and you let out a breath of relief when you opened the door to an empty bedroom.

"You're hurting my fucking arm." Ville complained as he came into the guest room after you, looking completely unbothered when you slammed the door behind him about as hard as you could.

"I don't give a shit!" You let yourself boil over for a second, throwing a hand in the air as you stared at him with my eyes wide. "Are you seriously that immature that you needed to talk about my tits to some dick I’ve never met? Do you have no consideration for how I feel about you saying things like that?"

"Y/n, I understand that you like to live life pretending that all the men around you aren't objectifying you, but I can't stand it. If he's looking at you like he wants to bend you over the counter, then I'm going to say something." Ville replied hotly, giving you a look that basically said what do you want me to do about it. "And don't even try to give me a face about it. I know you knew he was doing it."

"Yes, I did know he was doing it. But causing a scene and making me look like an object that you’re battling for doesn’t help." You groaned as you dropped down on the suspiciously unmade bed behind you, raking your fingers through your hair. "The more attention you give someone, the more they’re going to do it."

"So what am I supposed to do, then? Stand there and fucking smile while he takes mental pictures of your tits and ass to jerk it to later?" Ville asked, speaking crudely as he stepped a little further forward so that he was standing directly in front of you. You glared up at him.

"Ville." You didn't need the image of some grimy stoner jacking off to mental pictures of you in your head. "One of you shared a bed with me every night and the other one only knows my name. I don’t understand how you’re worried."

"I'm not worried. You're just mine." He spoke possessively, and a simple glance forward where his crotch was basically right in your face told you what territory this was steadily veering into. "I just don't think he knows that well enough."

"Once again, I'm not a possession. You don't own me between the two of you." You’d reminded him many times how irritating it was when he acted like he was defending his property, and yet he never seemed to listen. He reached down and grabbed your chin roughly between his fingers, that infamous stare trained heavily on you.

"Your pussy is certainly fucking mine. I know he knows that." He said lowly, giving you a look that dared you to say otherwise. You just stared back at him with your lips parted slightly, unable to move your head with how hard he was keeping you in place. He pouted his lips at you just slightly. "You know that, right?"

You didn't speak, just nodded slowly as he let you go enough to do so. You knew that all he was thinking about was the thought of you only being his, and you could tell by the fact that his cock was starting to strain against the fabric of his jeans that it was working. And well, at that.

He let you go then, jaw clenching just for a second before his hand came to the outline of his hard-on in his jeans, rubbing slightly as he eyed you with hungry eyes.

"I have to give Esa credit. You are fucking perfect. Every part of you." He said, reaching out and grabbing your chin to tilt upwards so that you were forced to draw your eyes away from where he was palming himself through his pants. "Lie down."

"Baby, this bed is so gross." You mumbled, motioning to the stained sheets and ripped up comforter that you knew without a doubt had seen some questionable things. He shrugged off his coat then, eyes never leaving yours as he came and laid the expensive pinkish-red leather down beneath you on the mattress.

"There. Now lay the fuck down." He repeated, and you couldn't have physically done so as fast as you wanted to when you watched him slowly move to kneel down to his knees at the end of the end in front of you. "You're not my possession, Y/n, but you are my woman. And no one else gets to fucking have you except for me, understand?"

"Always." You inhaled shakily as his fingers found the buckle of your belt, starting to nimbly undo it as, once again, his eyes never left yours. Once your belt was undone and he had pulled it from the loops of your jeans, he hooked his fingers in your waistband and ripped your jeans right down completely unceremoniously. And, as a result, revealing the incredibly skimpy g-string that you were wearing for when you got home. Or now, apparently.

Ville clearly enjoyed the sight, because he pulled your shirt up to your tits to fully expose your lower half, a low groan leaving his lips as his hands ghosted down your sides before they settled at your hips.

"You are so beautiful, you know that? There's a reason no one can ever take their fucking eyes off of you." He mumbled, leaning forward and beginning to kiss softly at your stomach. You whined softly as you felt him sucking at your skin, and as his lips moved, you could see that he was leaving deep hickeys. He then broke away to pull your underwear low on your hips. "Say you're beautiful."

"What?" It was hard to focus, both because he had gone right back to kissing and sucking low on your stomach while his fingers worked on coaxing your underwear down your legs.

"You heard me. Say it so that you know it as well as I do."

God, you were so fucking in love with him.

"I'm beautiful." You said quietly, fingers lacing themselves gently into his hair as he continued to suck deep marks all over your stomach whilst laving his tongue over each one.

"Good girl. I love you." He bit gently at your skin as he spoke, and you gasped slightly as your grip tightened in his hair at the feeling. At that point arousal had fully kicked in, and all irritation had escaped your mind in favor of desperately craving the feeling of his skin on yours.

"I love you. I need you." You whined, spreading your legs wide where he was laying between them. He had your underwear in his hand, and his mouth on your stomach was so close to where you really wanted him that your clit was aching.

"I'll give you whatever you want, love. All you have to do is ask." He said, and you watched as he pushed your underwear into his back pocket. That was definitely going to cause issues later, but you weren't in the mindset to worry about it now.

"Touch me. In any way. I don't care." You begged, reaching up to slide your foot and then leg over his shoulder as an incentive. He very clearly eyed your pussy as his tongue darted between his lips, and then his hands were quickly at your thighs to hold them open before he was leaning down and licking a long stripe from your entrance up to your clit. You whimpered, hand immediately shooting down to card your fingers through his long, messy hair. "Yeah, just like that."

Ville guided your other leg over his shoulder, groaning with the feeling of your fingers in his hair as he quickly began to suck at your clit, hands on your hips holding you down as you began to roll them with every stroke of his tongue. He wasn't teasing at all by this point, and you knew it was because he was trying to get you as loud as possible. Which, on one end, annoyed you because you didn’t want to embarrass yourself at this party, but on the other end deeply aroused you because you knew he was claiming you. And you would've been lying had you said that you didn't secretly like the idea of that.

"Baby, please. I need you so bad." You wanted him on you, and you wanted him in you. As much as you loved his head between your legs, you were craving the feeling of every inch of his skin on every inch of yours even more. He lifted his head then, your fingers still attached to hair.

"No. I'm not done yet." He said firmly before he was dipping his mouth back to your pussy, tongue swirling in lazy circles against your clit as those intense green eyes stayed trained directly on you. "God, I love your fucking pussy."

Whining in response, your hand that wasn't in his hair gripped at the already-ripped and fading comforter on the bed tightly, your back arching just slightly as he resumed sucking at your clit. Your soft moans were beginning to develop into high-pitched whimpers, and he only held your legs open wider as he licked and sucked sloppily at your clit.

Your head was spinning with pleasure, especially when his grip on your hips started to ache enough for you to know that you’d have bruises to accompany the deep red and purple hickeys that covered your abdomen. He groaned against your pussy as your grip tightened in his hair, the vibration of his voice making you shudder as you felt your orgasm approaching faster and faster.

"I'm not gonna—I can't—" Your voice was a hoarse stutter as you tried to get across that he was pinpointing the spot that made your legs shake way too aggressively for you to hold on for much longer, and all he did in response was look up at you with wicked delight in his eyes. That was exactly what he wanted.

When you came, your legs closed a little less than gently around his head, your hips arching harshly off the bed despite his tight grip on you as you moaned loudly. You would've had half a mind to consider how many people were standing not a foot away from the door that was the only separation, had he not been continuing his assault on your clit through your orgasm. Instead, all you did was whine his name as he pushed your legs right back open.

"No more. Too much." You breathed, hand pressing into his head as his tongue slowed but didn't stop. He then finally moved his head back, his still-entertained eyes eating you alive as his lips moved to kiss wetly at your inner thigh that was still pressed open with his hand.

"Are you starting to remember who you fucking belong to yet?" He spoke as if he was goading the answer out of you, and when you used enough of your depleted strength to lift your head and shoot him a dirty look, he just crawled right up onto the bed and dropped himself onto you with your legs on either side of his hips. When he was face to face with you, he immediately kissed you sloppily, and all you could taste was yourself on his lips as one of his hands moved to rub up your thigh.

"Will you calm down?" Even though you were out of breath and a little empty-headed from your orgasm, you could clearly see the wild possessiveness that had yet to fade from his eyes. His hand tightened on your thigh, and he stared right down at you as he ground his hips against you.

"Right after I fuck this pussy and remind you whose it is." He said pointedly, biting at your hand when you brought it up to push his hair out of both of your faces. You glanced towards the door that looked as if it had been kicked in and shittily repaired a couple of times.

"The door doesn't lock." You fretted, frowning at where you could see the broken lock even from the bed. You knew better to get naked in unlocked rooms that resided in parties for more than a few minutes in order to avoid someone drunkenly barging in with their hand down the person accompanying them's pants. Ville immediately scoffed.

"I don't give a fuck. I want you now." Of course he didn't care. He never did. This was the man that had stared his own friends down and had kept going when you'd been walked in on whilst going at it when you though no one was going to be on HIM's tour bus.

You weren’t going to deny that you wanted him just as much, so all you did was let him go so that he could get up and undo his jeans, waiting until he stood up off you before you readjusted on top of his coat. He quickly kicked his boots off before he had his belt undone and his zipper down, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watched you watch him push his jeans down and off. The boots coming off was a sign of how committed he was to this whole situation, and you couldn't help but swallow thickly as he came back towards your open legs.

"I don't want to get anything on your coat." You pointed out, pinching the red leather material and looking up to him with that hint of worry still in your eye. He only raised an eyebrow, climbing back into the bed over you.

"Guess it'll just have to be inside you then, huh?" He crooned, pushing your legs open a little wider as he kneeled between them. "You want my cock?"

"Yes. Need you so bad." You pleaded, wrapping your legs loosely around his waist where he hadn't yet moved from his position in your best attempt to lure him forward and onto you. Or into you. "Please, baby. I can't wait anymore."

He shushed you softly, reaching down to pull you further towards him by your hips before he was shifting onto one arm above you while the other hand pumped his cock a few times. Your eyes stayed glued to him as he did so, your lip bit harshly between your teeth as he positioned himself at your entrance and then pushed in slowly. You gasped at the feeling while he groaned deeply, his arms readjusting to hold himself up where they were resting against the bends of your knees and holding your legs spread open wide.

"Fuck, you take my cock so well. You're such a good girl." Ville breathed against your cheek when his head dropped slightly, the deep baritone of his voice so close to your ear making you full-body shiver. You slipped one of your hands underneath his shirt that had started to ride up to scratch your nails against his back as you let out a stuttered moan when his thrusts began to find a fluid rhythm.

The guest-bed frame was shitty as hell, and it was starting to creak loud enough to make your face heat up a little bit with every forceful roll of Ville's hips. Ville obviously didn't care, and only seemed to fuck you harder at the sound of the moans that fell from you lips with every hit of his cock inside of you.

Your nails were now cemented in his back while your other arm wrapped tightly around his neck as he dipped down to kiss you sloppily. It was all tongue and teeth as he groaned into your mouth, your fingers pulling at his hair to get more where he was basically eating you alive with every kiss he gave you.

"Does that feel good? Hm? You like when I fuck you the right fucking way?" Ville broke away to grunt that against your jaw where his lips had drifted, and all you could do was whimper a yes as you tried to ignore both the creaking and the fact that the metal bed frame was beginning to slam into the wall. He then lifted his head to stare right into your eyes, his face brightened with ecstasy. "Whose pussy is this?"

"Yours." You gasped immediately, arching your back up so that your chests were pressed flush up against each other in order to feel him as close as you could possibly get him. He groaned, thrusting particularly hard and hitting your g-spot for the first time that night.

"Tell me again. Whose is it?" He goaded, pressing wet kisses along your jawline and down to your throat as he leaned into his arms a little more so that your legs were stretched even further. Your eyes were slammed shut, and you had to take a deep breath to even force yourself to form words.

"Yours. Only yours." You repeated, your hand on his shoulder where your arm was wrapped around his neck fisting the material of his shirt tightly as you tried to find some semblance of stability where you had none. Ville crooned against your skin.

"Who?" Him and his fucking games. If he hadn't been fucking you so good into oblivion that you could barely see through the stars clouding your vision, you would've snapped at him for making you repeat yourself so many times. You knew what he wanted, and you also knew exactly how he wanted it.

"Ville." You cried his name as you arched your back a little further, opening your eyes just quick enough to see the satisfaction that flashed on his face at the sound. You knew you were being loud. In fact, you were both being ridiculously loud, but you were too far gone to care.

That was, until you heard a loud banging on the door.

"Hey! Is someone in my room?" Holy shit, that was Esa. You immediately opened your mouth to shout something along the lines of 'fuck off, one second', but you then noticed the smirk on Ville's face about a split-second before his hand was clamping down over your mouth.

"We're done when we're done. Don't fucking say anything." He ordered, not relenting his pace even the slightest bit in the face of the threat of the house owner standing just on the other side of the half-busted door. You pleaded with your eyes for him to let up his game for just a second, because you knew exactly what he was aiming for. And you did not like the idea of some random guy walking in on you getting dicked down within an inch of your life in his bed, no matter how much of an asshole he had been. But Ville gave no sign that he cared.

"Hey! I’m fucking serious! Who’s in there?" The irritation in Esa's voice gave you a pretty good idea of how close he was to opening that door, and you whimpered against the cover of Ville's warm hand. He only moaned as his free hand shifted your hips a little so that he could hit deeper inside you.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

About a second later, the door was open. And Ville still had his hand over your mouth, so all you could do was look fearfully towards the doorway where Esa was standing, and respectively getting a complete, full-body shot of Ville fucking deep inside of you. Ville's head had turned as soon as he heard the door opening, and his face was practically lit up with smug, cocky delight as he presumably made direct eye contact with the man he was in an obvious dick-measuring contest with.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Esa immediately stepped back in disgust, his eyes switching between both of you as he quickly reached back for the doorknob. Ville just let out what you knew was an exaggerated groan, his boasting knowing no bounds as Esa muttered something that sounded like fucking dick before he slammed the door shut.

As soon as he was gone, Ville's hand came off of your mouth, and you literally could not physically help the moan that spilled from your lips the second you were free to use your voice again. You had already been close to finishing, and as much as you hated to admit it, Ville's exhibitionistic act had pushed you much closer in record timing. And he knew it, too.

"Oh, was that good? Did you like that, my love?" He breathed out raggedly, his head dipping before he was kissing you slowly and moving his hand that had been over your mouth back against the bend of your knee as he brought you into your original position. "Cum whenever you want, for being such a good fucking girl."

You were going to fucking marry him someday. Maybe smack him upside the head a couple times before then for his behavior problems, but the fact remained. He was so fucking perfect.

"I'm gonna cum. Oh—so good." You whined, subconsciously wondering if you were hurting him with how deep your nails were in his back but simultaneously too fucked-out to stop yourself. He just shushed you and continued, and then you were cumming, legs shaking and spasming harshly as he fucked your g-spot directly through your orgasm with his lips still brushing against yours.

He came soon after, his moan raising a pitch past his normal voice and making another, post-climax shudder roll through your body as his head dropped to your shoulder and he spilled deep inside of you. He hadn't been lying about finishing in you, and you whimpered at the feeling.

His thrusts went shallow and slow for a while as you both came down from your highs before he finally slowed to a stop, his breathing sharp and heavy in your ear as his back heaved against your hand.

"Fucking hell." He muttered as he lifted his head back up, his eyes that had now gone soft finding yours before he leaned down to kiss you. His kisses were much more gentle now, and he moved a hand up to push your hair away from your forehead and out of your face. "You look so perfect right now."

"I love you." Your voice was so hoarse that your words came out as a whisper, but you knew he heard them, and his lips found your cheek and then your forehead before he was slowly pulling up and off you.

"I love you too. Look. You didn't even get anything on my coat." He praised with a hint of amusement in his eyes, his hand trailing softly across your stomach and hip as he gingerly pulled out of you. You ran your hands over your face in an attempt to bring yourself fully back down to earth, shuddering slightly at the aftershocks of him pulling out before you watched him get off the bed.

"I can't believe you let him come in here." You muttered, holding your feet out as he came back with your underwear and jeans in hand to put them back on. He just scoffed.

"Serves him right. I was just giving him a little reminder." He said stubbornly as he pulled your underwear up and over your hips, holding his hand out afterwards to help you sit up. You just shook your head, a slight laugh that you really couldn't control bubbling up in your chest.

"You are something fucking else, you know that? I can't believe you just stared at him." You smacked his chest lightly as you said it, standing up once he had your jeans up your legs and then combing your fingers through his ridiculously-unruly hair as he buttoned them up.

"Well, you're laughing, so clearly you're not that torn up about it." He pointed out, giving you a knowing look as he finished with your jeans and handed you your belt. "Let's get the fuck out of this shithole so that I can have your ass to myself at home."

"It's not like we can stay now, anyway." No way Esa was going to ever let Ville in his house again after tonight. You accepted his kiss when he leaned into you, resting a hand on his thigh with the hand that wasn’t holding your belt and then grinning when you felt him moan shamelessly into your mouth. "I can't believe people think you're shy."

"I am. You just bring the slut out of me." He defended himself adamantly, motioning pointedly to the now-tighter crotch of his jeans as his point of evidence. He really amazed you sometimes.

"You don't want to wait a minute?" Here he was ready to leave, and he was literally hard. And it was pretty obvious, too. He waved it off, that immaturely unbothered look on his face as he started right for the door.

"I don't care. Esa has to get the full picture of what keeps you coming back for more, eh?" Like you said, immaturely unbothered. You just huffed out an unimpressed sigh and carted him out the door as soon as he pulled it open, trying to ignore that you were walking beside your boyfriend who had a full erection.

He was going to drive you fucking insane someday.

#ville valo #ville valo smut #ville valo x reader #ville valo fic #ville hermanni valo #HIM #his infernal majesty #mige amour #jackass #jackass imagine #jackass movie #jackass mtv

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 19

(blowing a lil party horn and firing confetti poppers) YIPPEEEE

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

sorry to the ishimondo fans

this is the one with an execution!!!

@digitaldollsworld my bestie my lord my homie <333

Content warning tags: descriptions of injury and mild gore, character death, canon-typical violence, guns

< previous - from start - next >

“NO!”

Owada’s shout is loud enough to startle Byakuya out of the slight torpor he had fallen into, too busy trying to fend off the migraine that was threatening to make him sick. He jerks, eyes blinking open to see Owada leaning in Ishimaru’s direction, his entire frame tense and trembling with restraint.

“It’s okay, Taka, you don’t have to say it,” He’s babbling, talking in a rush. His complexion is blanched, with fear or desperation, maybe both. “It’s okay, okay? I’ll tell them. It’s fine.”

“You really should let him-” Kirigiri starts to say, but Owada shakes his head vigorously, his hair bounces side-to-side.

“No, I’m not gonna make him cover for me any longer. I’m not gonna make him- make him lie for me.” He cuts Kirigiri off, before drawing himself up tall. “I did it. Okay? I killed him. I killed Chihiro.”

“Mondo-” Makoto starts to say, but Owada barrels through him like a steam train. His voice has the same, strained quality of a whisper, but it feels shockingly loud at the same time, the only thing audible in the entire room.

“It was - I know I was calm. Earlier. When Chihiro told me everything. And - I really was supportive. I was happy for him, so happy for him, you saw me Makoto, that was all real. But-” He pauses to take a sharp breath, and Byakuya wonders if he looks as insane as he sounds, leaning over the edge of the railing, like a seasick man over the edge of a rocking ship. Spewing words like he’s trying to empty his stomach of them. “I was thinking about it after, and I just. I just got so fucking mad, I mean - we all have secrets, and mine is - I know it’s probably not the worst one here, but it’s something I’ve been holding on to for so long, and he was just. Flaunting it around? Like it was something to be proud of?” He snorts a laugh, ugly and demeaning. “If it was that easy, then what the hell have I been doing all this time?”

His voice breaks, and for a moment his shoulders slump. But he regains his composure just as quickly, drawing himself back up with a shuddering breath. “I.. on the way back to the trophy room, I couldn’t stop feeling angry. It was like I couldn’t see anything else but red, I wasn’t paying attention to anything else. And when I got back I saw - I saw Taka, injured, and Chihiro standing over him -” He swallows. “It’s not an excuse. I know Chihiro would’ve never hurt him, never hurt anyone - but I was so angry and he was there, and there was a trophy on the floor, with blood on the corner, so I just…”

No one says a word. The implication of what he had done hangs over them all, like a fog - like a body, Byakuya thinks. Fukawa hadn’t been able to pin Chihiro as high up as Syo, but it feels like the boy was watching over them. A ghost listening silently from the rafters.

“...Then, tell us. If you did kill Chihiro, how did you do it?” Kirigiri asks at last, and Owada makes a sound crossed between a sob and a groan.

“I - I just sort of blanked out, when it happened. When I came to, he was there, and - I didn’t know what to do.” He lifts his face, and Byakuya can make out the shine of tears, the gray pallor of his skin. “So I took Taka to the nurse’s room first. And bandaged him up. And then I grabbed supplies to clean up the scene - that’s where I got a sheet to wrap Chihiro up in, and the gauze pads to soak up the blood.” He’s slowed down now. The words come tiredly, laboriously. “And then I…I was just thinking about cleaning up the room at first. That was all I could do, so I just did it. I wasn’t thinking about my survival or anything, or the fact that I might end up getting killed by this fucking bear - I just. I was planning on confessing to it all, but I didn’t want the place where he died to be so…so messed up.”

“Oh, Mondo…” Hagakure breathes quietly, grievingly. Owada’s head twitches, but he presses on.

“I went to check up on Taka, and when I came back, the body - Chihiro - he was gone. Sheet and all.” He laughs again, another twisted sound. “I thought, maybe it was all a dream? Maybe I was going crazy and Chihiro wasn’t dead, and all that blood was from Taka’s injury? I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t want to think. But I went back to what I was doing, and then a little later, the announcement went off. And you all know what happened after that.”

The room is silent for a long moment. No one says a word, and Byakuya can only just make out the sound of breathing, the only indication of life. And, a slight, quiet rattling; Ishimaru was trembling slightly, but still not uttering a sound.

In the silence, all Byakuya can feel is a storming, pitch-dark rage; rage for Chihiro, killed over something so pointless and without warning, rage at Fukawa for framing him, and rage at Owada for hiding it all. For losing control of himself in the first place. “So afterwards, Fukawa went downstairs and found the body. If we consider the sheet around Chihiro’s corpse and the scene cleaned of blood, that also helps explain how she was able to hold off Syo for so long.” He says, disgustedly. “But, the bloodied gauze in the library. I’m assuming that you were the one who put it there? Whatever happened to confessing?”

“I was! …I was, planning to confess to all of it. But then I saw Chihiro’s body, and - and as everyone was talking about Syo, I saw you holding the file and the blood, and I thought… I thought I had a chance. I mean, you were right there, and…I knew that Makoto wouldn’t have been able to back you up. I stuffed the gauze through the gap between the library door hinges while everyone was investigating.” Owada looks up for the first time, and Byakuya can’t see what look he’s wearing. And he feels glad for that; he doesn’t want to see whatever simpering face Owada has, pleading for forgiveness, miserable and sullen. “I know it was wrong, but all the pieces just seemed to fit together so perfectly, and the more time that went on, the more believable it seemed, and- I’m sorry. I really am.”

And Byakuya wants to scream.

What use is your worthless apology, he wants to rage. It wouldn’t resolve anything - in the end, he had still been accused, and humiliated, and now utterly disgraced. He was still blind and disabled. Chihiro was still dead. “All this, because you couldn’t decide if you wanted to live or die? Did you never consider if you deserved to?” He hisses, and Owada actually flinches back.

“I know I don’t. I’m sorry.” He repeats quietly, and he sounds so hollow and drained that Byakuya finds it hard to maintain his anger, all the heat and passion dissipating in an instant like smoke. It leaves him feeling empty, bewildered, and so, so tired.

“...Well. It seems that it’s time to vote, no?” Celeste claps her hands lightly, a smile in her voice. “Monokuma, won’t you please?”

“Since you asked so politely…I was still enjoying this dee-light-ful soap drama, but for my precious student, I will oblige!” Monokuma bounces up to its feet, one arm raised high in preparation to call the vote. “Everyone-”

“Wait.” Kirigiri interrupts. She hasn’t looked away from Owada once, her pale face turned towards him this entire time like a hawk. “Something’s not right.”

“Wha- what do you mean?” Hagakure asks. “It’s pretty cut and clear by now, right?”

“It’s suspicious. Why put in so much effort trying to pin the crime on Byakuya, and then confess so suddenly now?” Kirigiri rebuts. “And we still haven’t heard Taka’s testimony.”

“Man…come on, Kiri. Just look at him. I don’t think he’s in any shape to talk.” Hagakure shakes his head. “And - I think we shouldn’t push this on any longer than it needs to be.”

“Our lives are on the line. I don’t want to move on until we’re entirely sure.”

“He’s already confessed, though…isn’t this enough?” Yamada lets out a long-suffering sigh. “And, I can’t see any indication of anyone else who might’ve done it.”

“No, but Kyoko has a point,” Asahina interjects. “We almost got tricked once already into thinking it was Byakuya, right? We should be careful.”

“Yes. We should err on the side of caution,” Ogami agrees. “I can’t see the harm in having Taka speak, and…I cannot trust Mondo’s confession entirely. No matter how logical it seems.”

“He can’t,” Owada cuts in, that desperate tinge on his voice again. “I keep telling you guys- can’t you just leave him alone? Please?” He hangs his head low. “I know - I’ve done bad by you guys, I’m not exactly the easiest to get along with, but please, just…he’s been through a lot. Can’t you cut him a break?”

“Erm…Can you kids make up your mind?” Monokuma is still standing, balanced precariously on the tips of its toes with one arm still straining upwards. “My stitches are ‘bout to pop, you know!!”

During this whole time, Makoto was silent. Thinking again, Byakuya recognized, as he usually does with his chin tucked under a curled finger, his foot tapping a quiet rhythm against the floor.

“Okay, then. Taka doesn’t have to talk.” He says slowly. “But in that case - Taka, can you please take off your bandage? So we can see the wound?”

“The wound-?” Owada sputters, taken aback by the sudden request. “Wha- Makoto, what are you…?”

“Something about the whole story has been bothering me. Mondo, I know that you, uh…sometimes, you react kinda strongly, I guess, to stuff that makes you mad, but you’re also really caring. I find it hard to believe that you’d twist up on Chihiro like that so fast.” Makoto drops his hand to a fist at his side, clenched tight. “If the trophy really did hit Taka as bad as you said - where he got hit by the edge of it - then the wound should also be really bad, right?” He turns back to Ishimaru. “Taka, please. You don’t need to say anything, but- please, just show us.”

“No way, he doesn’t need to-” But Owada stops suddenly, slack-jawed as he stares.

Watching as Ishimaru slowly unwinds the stained, white strips wrapped around his head with shaky hands.

—

“As I thought,” Kyoko says, as the last bandage falls away. “There’s nothing there to constitute that amount of blood on that bandage, is there?”

And it’s true. The pile of linen that now litter the floor around Taka’s feet is stained and spotted through with blood, but there’s no sign of an injury anywhere on his head. There’s not even a bump, or a bruise.

Makoto swallows thickly, before he continues. “Taka, you never hit your head at all, did you?” And Taka flinches, face somehow blanching paler. “You’re the one that killed Chihiro.”

“No, he didn’t, it was me-!” Mondo throws out an arm in Taka’s direction, as if trying to shield him from the accusations. “I keep telling you - I was the one who did it, I killed Chihiro-”

“No you didn’t. You were covering for him.” This was the worst. Mondo - he was violent at the worst of times, but ultimately kind, and extremely loyal - and right now, Makoto was going to kill his best friend.

“Are you stupid or something? Makoto, hey-” There’s a strange grin twitching on the corner of Mondo’s mouth, like this was some joke he could laugh off. “I’m telling you - how many times do I have to tell you? It was me.”

“It wasn’t-”

“It was!”

It goes on like this for a while. Everyone else is silent - or, it feels like they’re silent. Makoto can’t really hear them, not over the rush in his own head, or Mondo’s desperate, hysteric words, denying the accusation, insulting Makoto and everyone else, cursing, pleading, screaming. It’s the same as when Leon was condemned, when all he could do at the end of it was wail, ‘stupid, stupid, stupid!’ until Makoto pointed out the toolkit, the undeniable proof that it had to be him. Or, when it was Byakuya-

And he stumbles a bit, his rebuttal stuttering as he falters. He remembers the look on Byakuya’s face as he asked about his handbook, with the knowledge that he couldn’t bring it out himself. Not without revealing it to Monokuma. And therefore forcing him to admit it by his own words, the one thing he wanted to conceal from everyone else in the room. The betrayal, the hatred - just thinking about him made Makoto want to disappear.

But there’d been no other choice. Kyoko told him as much when they were investigating; ‘There’s a likelihood that you will have to reveal his secret during the trial,’ she had said, as they inspected the still-damp floorboards of the trophy room. ‘It may be the only way to clear his name.’

He’ll hate me for it, Makoto had protested, and she had just shrugged and turned back to inspecting the trophies, one of which had small dots of blood at the corner of its marble base.

‘Would you rather live being hated or die knowing you could have prevented it? He’ll get over it if he wants to survive.’ 

Easy for her to say, he thinks, as Mondo screams something at him, an barb so ugly it made him feel equal parts furious and sick with guilt, because Mondo would probably never say such a thing otherwise if it weren’t for this. She’s never had to do this before.

“Dammit, show me the proof! If he did do it, what’s the proof!” Mondo shouts, accompanied by a loud bang as he slams his hands against the railing. “You don’t have any goddamn proof, you little shit! So don’t just stand there and say shit you don’t know!”

“That’s enough.”

For a moment, it’s hard to place who said that. The words were spoken so quietly, after all, and so raspy it was hard to discern whose voice it was. But Byakuya cocks his head, and turns to look in Taka’s direction with a frown.

Taka is still as still as ever, but one hand rests on the bannister, and he’s leaning forward. “That’s enough, Mondo,” He says again, louder, before coughing into his elbow, clearing his throat. “Please…just stop.”

Mondo looks like he was slapped across the face, mouth agape in shock. “Wh-what are you saying?” He tries to laugh, but it sounds more like a sob than anything. “Taka - bro, it’s okay, you fell and hit your head-”

“Mondo. That’s enough,” He repeats. His eyes are hollow; Makoto finds it hard to look him in the face. “I killed Chihiro.”

Kyoko is the only one who speaks up to ask: “How?”

Taka talks slowly, haltingly, as if trying to dredge the memories up. “It - it was after Mondo left with Chihiro and Makoto. To the cafeteria. I was still cleaning, alone - when I’m alone, I think. About things, my family outside the school, if they’re alive, my secret, my grandfather - and then Chihiro came back. Alone.” He sways slightly, steadied only by his hand, white-knuckled against the wood. “And - as he was talking - I was still thinking - and -”

He pauses, taking slow, deep breaths. No one says a word. Makoto’s not sure if he’s even breathing.

“It just - it wasn’t fair. Him, confessing it - it was so easy, for him. He was so happy about it. My grandfather - if you knew, you would hate me. That’s how it’s always been, everyone who’s ever known about it, hated me. But he was so happy, and he -” He takes another deep, shuddering breath. “It was an accident. I - I just pushed him, I didn’t think I pushed him hard, but he hit the shelf. And, the trophy…”

It’s not hard to figure out what happened afterward. Makoto can practically imagine it, though he doesn’t want to; Chihiro going up to Taka, and Taka, too caught up in his own trauma, backing away, combatting his own fury and dread. And Chihiro, walking up closer to check on him, only to get shoved bodily backwards, into the trophy shelf, and then-

Mondo is shaking his head, tears falling silently down his face - muttering ‘no’ under his breath, over and over, like a mantra. Taka turns to him, a sad sort of smile tugging at his mouth.

“Thank you, Mondo. For trying,” And he sounds so genuine and so incredibly sad. “But - I can’t let my family be disgraced anymore. I can’t let anyone die for my sake.”

“No, no, no,” Mondo repeats, and despite his size, he shakes like a leaf. “No, don’t, don’t, Taka,” And his voice breaks. “Don’t- Please don’t, I won’t be able to take it, I can’t take it, Taka- not again-”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, don’t you dare fucking apologize-! Just-” He breaks down fully now, and turns away, one hand raised to his eyes.

“Forgive me,” Celeste interrupts, still wearing her indecipherable smile, unnatural red eyes narrowed slightly as she addresses Taka. “But I recall you were the first to suggest sharing secrets the night Monokuma revealed the motive, no?”

Taka recoils slightly at that, bowing his head. “I…I was. I thought - I could be prepared. If it’s the right thing to do, I could do it. But-” he turns away, his brows twisted into a scowl. “I…”

“Enough.” Kyoko sighs. “There’s no point in making pointless allegations. We have our explanation. There’s nothing left to say.”

And she casts Makoto a look, which Makoto interprets immediately, and he sighs.

—

As Makoto explains, it started when he and Chihiro were walking around the first floor, planning to find and talk to everyone Chihiro had yet to disclose his secret to.

After they had spoken to Owada, Chihiro went to talk with Ishimaru alone - Ishimaru, who was so rule-abiding and careful that no one would assume him to be of any danger - and that was how he died. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, and completely by accident.

Owada was the one who found the body, and to protect his friend, who was reeling from shock, he concocted a story as he wrapped the corpse in a cloth and mopped up the blood. To claim that he killed Chihiro, that Taka was merely injured, and therefore protect his friend from harm.

It was during this time that Fukawa was in the library, making her own confession, before Byakuya’s swift rejection sent her fleeing. As she went down the first floor, she saw the body, and with the cord that was tangled around her ankle, she strung it up outside the library door in a poor likeness of Syo’s handiwork. In some twisted display of vengeance, or a demand for attention, or something; and when it was done, overwhelmed by the blood and exhausted by her own perseverance, she took the sheet to the bathroom with her and collapsed, where Kirigiri found her moments later.

Byakuya listens to him explain it through a fog, feeling distant from it all. As if he was merely observing it from behind a broken, filthy screen, the sounds tinny and the visuals shot. He watches as Owada clings to Ishimaru, screaming for mercy at Monokuma’s feet. He watches as Ishimaru is dragged ruthlessly away anyway, behind the steel doors of the execution chamber.

He watches the execution, from behind a glass window. Ishimaru standing in a gleaming white car, the sunroof pulled down, driving through a street lined with the black-and-white shapes of more Monokumas, cheering indistinctly as confetti rains around him. The Monokuma in the seat next to him is holding a sign, lifting his arm to make him wave, poking his cheek to make him smile.

There’s a loud crack, and Ishimaru seems to stumble, a bloom of blood on the shoulder of his white uniform. But he doesn’t fall; he must be held up by some kind of mechanism or another, because a moment later he’s upright again, still being forced to wave, to smile, even as the cheering turns to jeers and he starts being pelted with what looks like rotten fruit, the dark red shapes of tomatoes smashing against his head. Another gunshot, and this time it’s his leg, a large, dark spot in his thigh. Another, in his stomach, and he seems to cough a little, blood trickling from his mouth.

There must be a microphone or something pinned to Ishimaru’s collar, because Byakuya can hear his breathing, harsh and labored, pitched with fear. The whimpering he can’t quite suppress, the jumps in his throat as he tries to swallow. And, the quiet whisper, barely audible behind the shouting, the gunshots, the noise of it all -

‘I’m sorry-

The final shot is a thunderous noise accompanied by a sudden, gaping pit between his eyes. He slumps, and the scene stills at last; the crowd stops yelling, the car freezes in its tracks. The lights go off, plunging Ishimaru’s lonely form into darkness.

And through it all, Owada never stopped screaming once.

Byakuya tears his eyes away, holding onto the railing of the stand to keep from falling as he steps down. It’s a similar scene as the aftermath of the last trial, everyone either comforting each other or wallowing in their own grief, and Monokuma giggling over them.

“Oh, oh, oh! That was good! Not even ol’ John could’ve done it better!” It sings, dancing between them. “I got a little antsy earlier when you called for the vote the first time, but you all pulled through with fly-ing colors!! Amazing performance! Especially that last confession, I was so moved!” It cackles, twirling and landing right next to Owada, who was on his knees, hands plastered against the window as if praying. “Such a lovely display of friendship at the end there, or was it really friendship? Whatever the case, the bond between men sure is something! I don’t think I’ve ever seen - whoops!”

Owada had grabbed him, and now rises with the bear dangling between his hands. His arms are trembling like Monokuma’s the heaviest thing he’s ever held.

“You,” He hisses, and his voice is wet and choked through. “If it wasn’t for you- if it wasn’t for you-!”

“Puhu, do you ree-ally want to do this, Mister Owada? Didn’t you learn your lesson on the first day of school?” Monokuma swings its feet in the air. “I’d hate to punish you after that amazing show-”

“I don’t care.” He spits. As Byakuya draws closer, he can hear the quiet splat of fat tears, striking the floor. “I don’t care, you killed him- I should tear you to pieces right now-”

And he stops, as Byakuya places a hand on his elbow. “Put it down.”

He’s sure that the face Owada is giving him is positively murderous. “Why should I,” he snarls, and his words are still thick with grief. “The fucker-”

“Even if you break this one, another one will take his place. And there’s probably countless replacements.” Byakuya sighs. What was he doing? He wasn’t sure himself. “What are you planning to accomplish? Other than a very messy suicide?”

“You bastard-” He drops Monokuma, who lands with a squeak, and grabs Byakuya instead, hoisting him by the collar. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? What does it matter to you if I die?” His last words sound less like a threat and more like a genuine question.

Instead of immediately replying, Byakuya casts a glance over his shoulder. Only a few people were watching them, the rest too preoccupied by their own misery. “...Take a look. There’s only so many of us left.” Byakuya looks back to Mondo, and even through the haze, he can see his face is pinched into a look of anguish. ”Did you hear what his last words were? Because I did.”

The grip on his shirt slackens, and his feet meet stable ground again. He pushes Owada’s limp hands away. “I don’t care if you want to die. But take responsibility at least.” He glares at him, his kneeling form. “We can’t leave until everyone’s on the elevator, so stand up and walk.”

There’s a part of him that wants to berate Owada - to tell him that Ishimaru likely never wanted his help in the first place, that all he accomplished was unnecessary strife - but such a thing doesn’t sit right with him. That would be the actions of someone petty and sore, a pathetic loser who couldn’t let it go; and right now, all Byakuya wants to do is sleep.

He steps onto the elevator. Celeste is already there, poised as ever, as is Yamada, who is mumbling unhappily to himself. Kirigiri and Makoto join them shortly after.

Makoto balks slightly when he sees Byakuya, tripping at the threshold with a yelp. But he straightens up quickly, glances around, and slowly, hesitantly, walks to Byakuya’s side. “Um…”

“Be silent.” He snaps. Makoto recoils instantly. “Do not speak to me. The deal is null.”

“Byakuya-”

He turns away, focusing on the metal grates of the elevator walls. The wires are bent into some kind of honeycomb pattern, though it’s not like Byakuya could make out exactly what.

He half-expects Makoto to say something more, but the elevator ride up is silent and still.

< previous - from start - next >

#thpff #thpff chapters #byakuya togami #danganronpa fanfiction #my beta reader called me sick for including that microphone in the execution but to be fair i think monokuma did that. for 'accessibility' #hiii roman btw!! <33 #this chap was soooo fun to write tbh i loved writing the execution...sorry to the fans #the execution was based of the original unused execution concepts btw! #idk what it was called originally but in my head im calling it 'motorcade in the plaza' (jfk reference) #also whoah shit an on-time upload? amazing #im so proud of myself honestly bc im also laid up in bed rn with awful awful chest and tummy pains #im ok btw its da flu + cold + weird ribcage etc etc #i might not update for a while after this i gotta focus on some irl stuff...will do my best to return soon tho!!!

[texas-writes]

Stay With Me

Three weeks. That’s how long you have been traveling with Joseph Joestar and his companions to save his only child. It felt like an eternity and a fleeting moment at the same time.

It all started when you walked out of the small cafe near your campus to see two men dueling in the street, except one of them appeared to be a flaming bird. You watched in awe as the beings clashed, the inferno incapacitating the knight and allowing a third, much larger figure to approach.

Joseph had recognized you as a stand user from that moment, though you had no idea of your stand's existence at the time. You had recklessly accepted when Joseph had offered you a place in his group. Looking for an excuse to get away from university for just a moment.

The quest you had joined in on seemed simple enough. If you were a fairy tale hero, that was. This old man had to be crazy, there was no way he was serious about his (im)mortal enemy being a fucking vampire. But alas, you still followed, because at least if you died it would be kinda hot. Hopefully this vampire fella looked like Tom Cruise. You laugh to yourself at the thought.

The first few stops on your journey, Joseph insisted that you have the room to yourself, save for the ugly ass dog he kept with him for some reason. You sit in your bed, flipping through a book of TIME’s most influential photos, pausing to ponder the events that led up to the one you were currently looking at.

As you think, a flash of purple catches your attention, drawing your eyes away before it disappears as quickly as it came. You shrug it off and go back to reading.

You saw purple again, fleeting, darting back and forth around the room before it stopped at the foot of your bed. You looked up and were met with the source of the movement that had been vexing you all day. It was the massive humanoid creature from before, it’s eyes meeting yours, despite the fact that it was crouching before you. It had long hair flowing all around it, a swirl of galaxies crowning its giant head. Almost like a halo.

“Who are you,” you whisper, cautiously crawling towards it. “Are you even real?”

It gives you a confused expression, letting out a soft “Ora?”

It was absolutely still aside from its flowing hair, but every aspect of the creature seemed relaxed. It wasn’t looking to harm you, or even approach you, so you approached it instead. You sit with your legs crossed on the edge of the bed and reach out towards it, trying to touch its face, but your hand just passes right through it.

You pull away even more confused than before. Were you dreaming? You could have sworn you were awake.

Then the creature reaches into you, and you feel it gripping something inside your chest. My god is it going to kill me? You think, fear taking over your body and you try to back away. The beast’s other hand reaches up and strokes your hair, very much there and very much real.

While you’re distracted by the foreign touch, it pulls its hand out of you, holding a black kitten by the scruff of its neck. It mewls and the creature pulls it towards it, cradling the cat in its arms. The cat starts to purr as the thing strokes it’s head and you feel it reverberating in your chest.

What the fuck was going on. Before you had time to think anymore, you laid down and forced yourself to go to sleep.

You were silent at breakfast the next morning, prompting Joseph to ask what happened to the talkative girl he had met the previous day.

You explained your strange dream to him and he nodded, before telling you the most absolute old man bullshit you had ever heard. There was no way that pathetic little cat was your fighting spirit.

You laughed and told him he was full of it. He countered by telling you to bring it out so they could all see it. You laughed again and said you couldn’t. He gave up almost too easily after that, muttering something about it’ll come out when it matters.

The second night you traveled with your new companions, once again staying with just the dog, the creature appeared to you again.

This time it’s not as friendly as it was before. Before you can even truly acknowledge it, you’re being attacked, it’s dragging you backwards from your chair, a large hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing. You feel like your eyes are going to pop out as you claw helplessly at your attacker, looking to Iggy to find him fast asleep.

A growl rips from the air beside you and the hand retreats almost as quickly as it appeared. You turn your chair to the large purple beast crouching down beside a panther, petting it’s head and making soft Oras in response to its purring. You feel the feedback of the pets in your hair and look to it for answers.

The being simply gives you an apologetic look, and reaches its free hand towards you. You cautiously take it. The creature brings the back of your hand to its lips, kissing it softly and giving you a small smile before returning its full attention to the panther.

A knock at the door draws you from your confusion and you answer it. It’s Jotaro. He pushes his way past you, kicking off his shoes and sitting on your bed, pulling a comic book from his coat and flipping to the dog eared page. “The old man told me to keep an eye on you,” he grumbles, flipping his hat and producing a cigarette, placing it between his lips and lights it.

“Well hello to you too. Do you have another one of those?”

“Smoking’s bad for you, you know,” Jotaro grumbles tossing his pack of smokes your way.

“Whatever.” You light one up and return once again to your book on the desk.

“Well, since you’re apparently a stand user, the worlds gonna be out to get you, and someone has to keep you alive, the old man will be upset if you die. Says he sees potential, and it looks like your stand’s not completely useless after all. It had no problem tearing at Star Platinum. Hurt like a bitch. Star seems to see it as a pet though, which is unfortunate. He’ll probably try to get a rise out of you more, now he knows it’ll make his friend appear.”

So that was Jotaro’s stand. Intretesting.

“I thought Joseph said that stand users had full control of their stands?”

“Star Platinum has a mind of his own. It’s probably why he’s been tormenting you for two days. He’s just curious. I can always pull him back if I want to, but as long as he’s not hurting anything, I don’t really care.”

“Maybe you should keep him from watching me sleep then. It’s kinda nerve wracking,” You chuckle.

Jotaro just grunts and gets up, moving to the other bed, picking Iggy up and tossing him on the floor. The dog grumbles in its sleep, but barely reacts more than that.

You sigh, stretching and getting up from your chair to flop down in the significantly more comfortable bed. “So, Jotaro, tell me about yourself,” you prompt, trying to get to know the reserved boy better.

“I’m Joseph’s grandson and my mom’s dying.”

“Surely there’s more.”

“Do you want to know my whole life story or something? Fuck.”

“Sorry, just trying to make conversation.”

Jotaro sighs and takes his cap off, running his fingers through his silky black hair. “Look, I’m not great with conversations, okay. I’m not trying to be a dick. You didn’t have to join us.”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t trying to pry.”

He chuckles and looks towards you. “Actually I think you’re the first girl that’s made an effort to get to know me.”

Oh. Oh! How did a handsome guy like himself have- “no girlfriend?”

“Never.”

“Surprising.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re not unattractive.”

“I know.”

Ah. There it was.

“I see.”

“I know I sound shallow, but I’m not. I just know people find me attractive because they make it so clear. They just want my appearance, they don’t want me.”

“So you’re saying you’re into blind girls?”

Jotaro chuckles and leans back against the headboard, blowing out a stream of smoke. “You’re funny. I think we could be friends.”

“Yeah,” you say, turning the remaining lamp off and rolling over. “Me too.”

The next couple weeks are a constant frenzy of fighting for your life, bringing you closer to your new companions both out of necessity and dedication to each other. You now spent most of your time with Jotaro and Kakyoin, mostly because they were the closest to you in age. Kakyoin was a year younger and Jotaro was just five months your junior, he was still in high school only because his birthday fell at an odd time for the school calendar.

You had grown quite fond of each other during your time together, spending what little free time you had together, trying to get some enjoyment out of the trip, be it grabbing lunch or just doing different things in the same room.

When all was said and done, and the battle won you found yourself in a hotel room overlooking the Valley of Kings. There were just four of you left now, the Stardust Crusaders were nothing more than a quartet of broken people whose lives would never really be the same as they were before.

Joseph and Polnareff were just across the hall, and when you stepped out of your room to use the toilet you could hear shot glasses clinking together and slamming onto the table, but there were no celebratory words being exchanged, the men were drinking to get drunk. To forget.

When you returned to your room you found Jotaro on the balcony, leaning on the railing and smoking a cigarette. He had dropped his coat and hat in the corner chair when he had entered the room and while you were gone he had stripped off his blood soaked shirt, revealing all the wounds Dio had inflicted on him.

Without thinking you come up and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his back. He stiffens for a second and then relaxes into your touch, letting out a sigh.

“I’m glad you made it,” he states suddenly, his chest rumbling with his deep voice.

“Me too, I guess.”

Jotaro pulls himself out of your arms and turns to face you. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow night.”

He sighs and tosses his cigarette butt off the balcony. He blinks slowly and rolls his shoulders a few times. “I’m really glad you made it.”

You’re completely unable to read him, not that it was easy before, but now, you couldn’t even begin to place what was on his mind. So much had happened in the last twenty four hours. Your friends had died for God’s sake.

It confuses you even more when Jotaro reaches up and cups your face with his massive hand. Before you can think, he leans down and places a clumsy kiss against your lips before pulling away quickly.

“I shouldn’t have done that, should I?”

“Actually I think you should do it again.”

He leans down again and this time you meet him halfway, closing the gap between you. His lips fumble against yours as he struggles to figure out what you’re doing.

You pull away and look up at him. “Never kissed before?”

“Once, but I was like eleven.”

You giggle and pull him towards you again, this time taking the lead and guiding him through it. You’re laughing when you pull away and he looks genuinely disheartened.

“What? Am I bad?”

“No, I’m just glad you finally decided to make a move.”

He just stares at you like you have two heads.

“I’ve only been flirting with you for the whole trip.”

“I thought you were just being nice.”

You chuckle and pull him into another kiss. Leave it to Jotaro to be completely oblivious to something like that.

“I liked that,” he murmurs, reaching out to take your hand. “A lot.” He pauses and thinks for a moment. “I like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot too. I’m sorry I have to leave.”

“I understand. You have a life to get back to, and we can’t linger here too long anyways.”

“I wish…”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You wish what?”

“I just wish things had come out better in the end.”

“Me too,” he sighs, and turns leaving you on the balcony to finish your cigarette.

When you do, you follow him inside, leaving the door open behind you.

“Jojo,” you call, reaching out towards him. He turns to face you and you take his hand, pulling him towards you and pushing your lips to his again.

He hums in surprise and melts into the kiss, leading you backwards further into the room. You fall back into the bed and pull him with you by his shoulders, keeping your lips against his the whole way down.

He moans and laces his fingers with yours, pinning your hand above your head, using his free hand to support himself.

This was the first time you had seen Jotaro shirtless the entire time you had traveled together, and even shared rooms and it was, comforting, to know that he now trusted you enough to show off a little. You let out a pleased giggle and spread your legs to allow Jojo to slot himself between them.

You roll your hips against his, earning a groan from him. He releases your hand and moves to run his fingers down your side, dipping under your shirt and trailing back up.

Your hands go to his waist, looping your fingers in his belt loops and guiding his hips against yours.

“I love you so much,” he whispers, bumping his forehead against yours.

You’re taken aback by his words, breathing his name and pushing him away from you.

Jotaro worries that he’s done something wrong before you get up and push him to sit on the other bed and kneel before him, running your hands up his thighs, letting them come to a rest on his hips.

“I love you too, Jojo,” you hum, resting your head on his massive thigh. He watches you, astounded as you reach up to unbutton his pants and push them down enough to free his cock. “Do you want this,” you ask looking up at him.

“Yeah. I do.”

You nod and lick his tip, making him shiver at the sensation. He brings his hands to rest in your hair, gently tugging as you work your mouth over him, taking him in bit by bit.

“God, fuck that feels good,” he whines, bringing a hand to cup your cheek “Please don’t stop.”

He bucks his hips, making you gag and you pull away. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, reaching to help you up.

“It’s alright, it happens,” you hum.

In an instant he’s scooped you up into his arms, tossing you back onto the other bed and climbing on top of you. He unbuttons your pants and slides his hand down the front of your panties, dipping a finger between your folds, making you shiver. You work to slip your pants off to make what he’s doing easier. “God, Jotaro, just come here already,” you whine, trying to push his pants down his hips. Jotaro pulls away, just long enough to kick his pants off, fully exposing himself to you. He returns to his position above you, this time joining you on the bed. You prop yourself up and remove your shirt, leaving you in nothing but your bra, but you’ll leave that for him to take off.

“I uh, I’ve never done this,” he tells you, tracing his finger up and down your torso.

“That’s alright. I don’t mind. I’m sure you’ll be great.”

He nods in response and leans in to kiss you again, sighing as you reach between your bodies and guide him to your entrance. His hands linger on the band of your bra. “Can I take this off?”

You nod and arch your back to allow him to unclasp it and pull it off, tossing it haphazardly behind him. He pushes his hips forwards, finally sinking into you and you groan, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down towards you and locking his lips in a kiss.

It’s slow and it’s sweet and when it’s all over Jotaro rolls off of you and pulls your back into his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly, like he never wants to let go, pressing kisses to the back of your neck. “I love you,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair.

“I love you too,” you mumble, drifting off to sleep in your shared room, a cool breeze blowing in from the open balcony door.

When Jotaro awoke you were already gone, the sun warming his face, though the bed was cold. He rolls over, finding a note on your pillow. The four words pulled at his heartstrings. A simple ‘I’ll find you again’ was all it took to make him break down in silent tears.

“Honey? What’s wrong?”

Your mother’s voice draws you from your thoughts and back to the dinner table. You had returned to your hometown directly from Egypt, since it was already time for fall break.

“Yeah, I’m alright mom, I just had a long semester. Being away from home for so long was stressful.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad you’re home.”

“Yeah…,” you hum, poking at your food, the ketchup seeping from your burger suddenly looks like blood, and you choke back a sob.

“Y/N, seriously, what’s wrong. You’re different.”

You sigh and lean back in your chair. “I just had a… fling, I guess, when I was in Hong Kong. It was hard to leave him.”

“Oh, that’s…understandable. Whirlwind love is hard to let go of. Maybe you’ll see him again one day.”

“Maybe.”

#jotaro x y/n #jotaro x reader #jjba #stardust crusaders #smut #fluff #angst #jojos bizarre adventure

[asukaskerian]

Monthly word count - november

TOTAL: 4 272 words, sliiiight progress compared to the last couple months... :X

Posted: nothin

In progress: -madatobiizu ABO chapter idk (1 825 words) -bleach grimmichinelhime suburban ot4 (1 379 words) -bleach... BLOODSPORT (1 068 words, let's see if it returns straight to its hibernation cave or what.)

-- madatobiizu -- Izuna was having fun holding court with the other three, but Haruno Koumei stayed by Madara, offering a pleasantly tart stream of observations on the shops they passed by and some civilians she knew, light and amusing enough that Madara only had to snort or chuckle here and there to keep her entertained. Then they got started commenting on the architecture, and Madara, it turned out, had Opinions.

He had not been aware he had Opinions. The fact that these strange tile toppers had originated in Earth Country instead of being some strange Daimyo-encouraged fad did not endear them to him. They were in the capital of Fire Country and their ancient style was fine as it was, and it didn't match anyway. No, not even in copper. Ugly. Ugly and the little statues of lion-dogs were borderline an invasive species.

"So, did you guys actually want to see the play, or do you want to criticize the theater first?" Izuna asked them eventually, smirking with his whole face. Madara flicked his ear in revenge and swept inside first, Koumei following on his heels with a pretend-haughty huff that cracked into a laugh the second she was in. Her sisters packed up close, the trio immediately starting to repeat snippets of commentary they'd overheard in funny voices. 

"Party of six, sir?" 

"Regrettably, yes," Madara agreed dryly, and pulled out his purse.

-- bloodsport --

"How's dad?" he murmured from the doorway. His mom glanced over her laptop, made a commiserating face.

"Oh, he's..."

"Mostly alive!" Isshin tried to chirp, but didn't lift the arm he had rested across his eyes. His feet kept dangling over the arm of the couch like dead weights.

So... It hurt enough to keep him from sleeping. 

For the tenth time today Ichigo reeled in his empathy -- telekinesis, awareness, whatever the fuck his hollow sense was, that mapping/echolocating/grabbing/feeling here's-something-alive and here's-how-it-tastes. He pulled it to him like a fisherman drawing his nets closer; but it wouldn't help long, because no matter how he trained the second he stopped paying attention his field of effect would relax and spread out all over again.

But when he touched Dad with it, his dad noticed, and his dad was a psychic null. Nowadays.

Kind of.

Mostly.

Ichigo had a bad night, and this morning his dad had a migraine. "Sorry."

His mom sighed -- closed the laptop, patted the armchair next to hers. "Come here, Icchan."

Ugh. Ichigo didn't want to talk. He'd wanted to go to the bathroom and back. Maybe with a kitchen stop. But his sisters were out of the suite and he'd spent the last five days brooding like an emo teen in his room, and his dad's head hurt. "... Yeah, okay."

There was a water pitcher on the coffee table; his mom filled a glass for her husband, and went rummaging in the room service cart next to her. "Soda? Beer? Vodka?"

"... *Mom*."

"Vodka for me, darling honey."

"Haha! Not even in a dream. You can have another pill in a half-hour and that's my best offer."

-- suburban ot4 --

Cat bastard: kurosaki Cat bastard: kurosaki Cat bastard: kurosaki Cat bastard: don't ignore me kurosaki Cat bastard: i will piss on your pillow  Me: good luck getting your dirty dick past my dad and my kick-happy soccer sister in one piece Cat bastard: oh, i'll get my dick *past* them at some point Cat bastard: but this ain't about getting laid for now. Me: ... Me: i will fucking GELD you. Cat bastard: your sisters *and* your dad will be sad, though. Cat bastard: :)

A bark of laughter makes it out of Ichigo's mouth without Ichigo's permission. Orihime makes an inquiring noise. He shakes his head, he'll tell her in a minute, that azurean taint muncher is still typing.

-- and another bit because i wanna :p --

"Why are you upside down in the cupboard, Grimmjow."

There's a broom cupboard on the landing, or at least they use it for brooms. Right now they're not using it for anything because the pipes running at the back of it are sweating rust water.

So when Ichigo walks up he is treated to the sight of long legs in shorts walking up the walls and a torso bared almost to the nipples by the tanktop failing to cling to the rippling muscles underneath.

"... Fuck off," Grimmjow grumbles from down there, hands splayed on the ground with the tendons in sharp relief. His face is a little flushed and Ichigo wants to pretend it's all blood going to his head and effort. He also wants to pretend it's embarrassment for being caught doing something weird, because Grimmjow usually has the self-assurance of a cat accidentally fallen off the counter -- I meant to do that and you can't prove otherwise -- but that would embarrass Ichigo by proxy.

"No, seriously."

"What does it look like," Grimmjow grumbles, and tucks his heels behind the built-in hanging rod.

Then he crosses his hands behind his head and folds up.

Hhhghg.

Down. Up. Down. Up.

Holy shit that fucking bastard has the rib muscles. The side zigzag ones that only exist on pro boxers and underwear models.

"Most solid -- hff -- thing -- in the house-- and I ain't -- exercised -- in weeks."

"... Oh... Makes sense."

"Work's good -- for lifting crates--but--"

"Oh yeah, no, it's not a complete workout, yeah, fair."

If he tears the bar out of the wall somehow -- Ichigo doubts, it looks like it's embedded into the wall instead of leaning on tiny nails -- Ichigo is fully willing to blame the leaky pipes for rotting through the bricks or something.

Up, down, up. Grimmjow holds position, elbows almost touching his knees. Ichigo watches dumbly. Fucking shoulders. Why are they so thick.

#teaser #ABO quest