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#better see you out of my following when I wake up
shiny-jr · 1 day
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not my world [ prologue ]
– Summary: One day you wake in a foreign world with nothing to your name except the clothes on your back. A talking cat named Grim, gives you your only lead to return home. Seek out the seven gods and pray they answer your plea.
– Warning: Yes, this series is a yandere thing, although this post really isn't. Gender-neutral reader.
– Characters: Grim.
– Note: Think of this like a test, just to see how it's received. Yes, this is based off that outlander post I made a while ago. I was thinking I could make this a long-lasting series. However, it really depends how y'all like it. There's not too much going on here, because I'm trying to set the scene and I wrote it all fairly quickly. However, it's just a small taste. So, let me know what y'all think.
– Pages: 11
“So… you’re saying that you woke up here on this beach with no explanation, but you’re from another world so you have no idea where you are? You fell asleep in your own bed, in your own home, and now you’re here, with no way to go back?” 
As far fetched as it sounded, you could only grimly nod. A dream, this should’ve just been a nightmare. But that was confirmed to be false when you pinched yourself multiple times and tried to splash yourself with the nearby ocean water. Everything felt so real, from the sand between your toes to the breeze in the air and the sunlight drying the water off the surface of your flesh. You wanted it to be nothing but a dream, especially when you found a talking cat with a forked tail and blue fire in his ears. 
This was your third attempt trying to explain things to this impish but rather harmless little furball, and each time he seemed more puzzled than the last. His little black nose twitched as he sat in front of you, his paws digging into the sand as those strange eyes of his studied you closely. His voice was grating, high-pitched, speaking with a tone of doubt. “You don’t look like you’re from any of the seven nations. No pointed ears, no beast features, not even a magestone to your name! Well, it makes sense. A nobody like you obviously wouldn’t have a magestone anyways.” 
That was probably meant to be an insult, but considering you didn’t even know what a magestone was, you didn’t really take any offense at all. Pointed ears, beast features, magestones, annoying talking cats– you really didn’t care about any of that. “Because I’m not from whatever seven nations there are. I already told you where I’m from.” 
“Yeah, well I never heard of wherever it was you said. So get lost, would you, human? I’ve claimed this beach alrea–” 
A low growl rang in the air. Swiftly you scanned your surroundings, fearful that you were about to be attacked by some mythical beast. However, when you looked back to the feline who now looked quite ashamed, you realized the noise came from his stomach. Actually, the little fellow seemed pretty scrawny, and you could just barely make out the shape of his ribs poking out of his sides. 
Standing up, you brushed off the sand clinging to the oversized t-shirt you fell asleep in. Thankfully, you at least had sandals, which was better than waking up here barefoot. With one look around, there didn’t appear to be anyone for miles, and no sign of civilization here. Leaving the cat as your only option to turn to, as jarring as it was to be speaking to a cat. “Er… Look, if you could at least help me find people, a shelter, a city, something– then I’ll see about getting you something to eat. Deal?” 
“I don’t need your help! But… I’m curious, so I’ll follow anyway.” 
“Great…” You sigh, as you decide to follow a path that leads away from the shoreline and into woodlands. At the very least, you were not completely alone. This would be much more terrifying if you had woken up and there was absolutely no one around. “So, do you have a name or are you, like, feral?” 
“I’m not feral!” It hissed as it walked in tandem beside you, keeping up with your steady pace. “Since I am so great, I will allow you to know my name. I am the all-mighty Grim! One-of-a-kind and destined to one day become strong, powerful enough to defeat even the seven gods!” 
“Seven gods…?” Was this some sort of fantasy setting? It had to be. First he mentioned pointed ears and beast-people, and you were having a conversation with a talking cat! Maybe seven gods were the least outlandish thing you’ve heard today. “Well, I’m (Y/n).” 
“You’ve never heard of The Seven? How stupid could you be?” 
You frowned at his toothy little grin as he ridiculed you for your knowledge on a place you just ended up in. “Well excuse me for not knowing anything about this place I just ended up in!” Tearing your gaze away, you saw a cabin up ahead. It appeared abandoned, so there wasn’t any hope of seeing another person yet. Still, there may be something useful inside, so you approach. 
Trying the knob, you found the lock jammed. The wood of the front door was rotting, some of it in splitters and the windows were shattered. With a few strong kicks, the door became dislodged and finally gave way beneath the pressure. 
“You’re excused– hey! Tuna!” You didn’t even bother stopping the feline when he rushed into the abandoned cabin, sprinting after the few cans of tuna he spotted on an old table. At least he would get to eat. 
You didn’t particularly care for canned fish that’s been sitting there for who knows how long. In practically a blink of the eye he had devoured three whole cans of the stuff and licked the remnants off of his whiskers. 
“Okay, okay, since I feel so bad for you, and because you found these tuna cans, I’ll be your guide. That way, I don’t owe you nothin’ after this! Maybe one day, if you’re still around, you’ll see me ascend to the ranks among the archons and you can brag like I knew him! Isn’t Grim so cool and praise worthy? I might even remember you and accept your prayers! You can thank me now.” 
At his smug expression, you squinted incredulously as he began walking down the path in the middle of the woods once more. Following hesitantly, thankful there was daylight and this seemed like a particularly nice forest, save for the very depths of it further away from the road that were dark due to the cover of leaves and branches above. However, the trees closest to you weren’t so dense, and the sunlight filtered through the thin foliage. The dirt road was wide, but slightly covered with scattered blades of grass and underbrush, as if no one had used it in a long while. Squirrel-like critters darted about in trees, strange fruits hung on low-branches, and foreign flowers sprouted alongside little ponds. 
“I’ll thank you after an explanation and a little help. So, what’s this about gods?” 
“Let’s see… I’ll put it so simple that even a baby can understand! There are seven nations, and each one has a god. These gods are super-powerful! I’m talking crazy-strong, like they can level mountains and raise the sea type of miracles!” 
As he strolled beside you, his forked-tail swished back and forth. For now it seemed like he knew where he was going, so hopefully that was a good sign. Right now, you had no idea what to do or how to get home. However, if magic existed in this realm, then surely there would be some way to get back. There had to be, for your own peace of mind. 
“Maybe if you pray to one, you’ll get an answer. But the chances of that are pretty much zero, because only idiots rely on the gods since they almost never answer. You’d have a better chance trying to actually meet one of them and try to talk to them in person, but good luck with that!” 
As the road neared a cliff, you caught a glimpse of the scenery. It was a kingdom, a whole city that began right at the edge of a vast meadow. The rolling valley ended at a river, across a wide stone bridge where the city began. Miles and miles of cobblestone roads lined with two to three-story buildings, and rising above it all was a white palace with red conical roofs that pierced the very sky. It looked fantastical, like something straight out of a peculiar little story book, especially considering how unnaturally bright the flowers were and how there was the occasional mushroom as tall as a tree. 
Never before in your entire life had you ever seen a single place like this. Some stupid naive little part of yourself had hoped that perhaps you were still in your world, but this was simply proof that tore that little shred of hope to bits. “What is this place…?” 
He paused to scratch a spot behind his ear. “That’s the capital city of Heartslabyul. You see that big palace all the way over there? That’s where the god of fire lives. One day, I’m gonna live in a place even bigger, grander, than that! My worshippers will build, brick by brick, a towering temple that reaches the very heavens! It’ll make that palace look puny in comparison!” 
Dumbfounded, you nearly get left behind in your stupor once the feline begins to walk down a rocky slope again. You follow, as Grim yammered on and on, “Fire is harsh, just like that place. Trust me, I tried staking a claim there, but I was kicked out! Can you believe it? Me! They just threw me out as if I were nothing! Anyways, I already forgot what you were looking for, but whatever it is, you’ll probably find something there––” 
“A way home?” You reminded him, a tiny bit irked that he seemed to forget so easily. For such a haughty little beast with nothing to his name, he was very conceited. 
“Ooh yeah, right. That. Gods have all this magic and wisdom from their years and stuff, so they gotta know something. But if I were a god, I wouldn’t answer you, to be honest.” 
Grumpily you point out the obvious. This cat-like creature was far from the divine that you were currently picturing. “You’re not a god.” 
Yowling in response, Grim shot back with irritation, “Yet! Not a god yet!” When he spat, a small puff of smoke and a spark of flames he tried to aim at the dirt caused his blue ear flames to flicker stronger until one stray flame popped like a hot scorching coal. It went flying directly at your face, and all you could do was react quickly enough to try and step back while your arms and hands covered your face. 
However, no pain ever came. “How are you doing that?!” 
“Doing what? And you need to watch it with––” When you began to lower your arms, you saw it. When you had shielded yourself, your knuckles had been against your cheek and so your palm was facing outward. Floating in your open palm, was that small spark that came from his ears and nearly burned you. Immediately your eyes widened, and the surprise didn’t end there. As if fluctuating with your shock, the fire became a small yet harsh monetary crackling burst that caused both you and the feline to yelp and stumble back in disbelief until your palms were normal once again. 
“You big fat liar! You do know magic! Where’s your magestone?” 
Seeing his gray fur stand on edge, you quickly answered, seemingly just as confused as he currently was. “I-I don’t, I swear! I don’t even have a wizardstone! That has never happened to me before! This, magic, stuff like that, talking cats, huge mushrooms, none of this is supposed to be real!” 
“Magestone! Not wizardstone! M-A-G-E!” 
“Same difference, what do I care?” You had to double-check your hands, wanting to trick yourself again into believing it was something that could be easily explained. Yet this didn't seem like that. This was something else entirely that didn’t make sense, it couldn't be explained. Not while you were still reeling and staring at your own two hands in utter disbelief. “What the hell was that…?” 
Sniffing the air around you, Grim paced slowly around you as his whiskers twitched with each sniff. After several rounds circling you, he plopped down in front of you and peered up at you quizzically. “I really don’t smell a magestone on you… but you used my fire! It was blue! Everyone knows you can’t use magic without one! Wait a moment… this is perfect!” Immediately brightening up, the little creature gave a toothy grin as he declared, “From now on, you will be my servant! One day when I am a god, I will make you a demi-god! Everyone knows the great gods have divine or mystic servants of some kind! So you will be my henchman! Count yourself blessed, human.” 
“What…?” For now you didn’t even want to touch anything, especially yourself. What if you just tapped something and it was set ablaze? Although you felt fine physically, you were not completely okay. Mentally your mind was scrambled with trying to comprehend everything going on and being said, and now you had the additional burden of accidentally burning everything you touched. 
“Maybe it has to do with the fact that you aren’t from here, so this world’s rules don’t even apply to you… yeah, that’s it! This is great! Does this mean you can wield other elements? We should try! If it storms tonight, we’ll stand at the highest cliff and wait for lightning to strike!” 
“Definitely not!” You screech in reply, currently trying to prevent yourself from panicking and having a destructive mental breakdown all at the same time. Keeping your arms away from your body and fingers spread apart, you tentatively try grabbing stones and sticks and blades of grass to test the ability and see if anything would be set ablaze. And yet, nothing happened, so you slowly began to relax, as much as was possible in that moment. 
Grim watched with great intrigue, hoping, wishing, to see you burn something straight with your hands. However, when he saw not a single spark or sign of smoke, he sighed, “Don’t you realize the possibilities! A small chosen few can wield magic like that, and even then, it’s only one element! This means that you might be able to do more! We’ll be legendary, beating every foe we come across!” 
“Woah, woah, woah, who said anything about beating foes?” Cutting off that idea right now before it would get out of hand. It had only been a few minutes, not even an hour, and even you could see that Grim was a handful. “I am no fighter. If I magically somehow have these weird abilities now, doesn’t mean I want to fight with them. Are you insane? The most I’ll do is like… instantly heat up my food or make a light in the dark. That’s it. Actually, that first one sounds pretty useful…” 
Angrily throwing his paws up in exasperation while falling back on some patches of grass, he groaned, “Ugh, but that’s so boringggg! Where’s your creativity? You could become a god among gods!” 
Choosing to ignore his less than enthusiastic response, you proceeded, drawing his attention back to something he recently mentioned. Awkwardly you grip your hands, twisting your wrist between your fingers, yet nothing hurts. Everything felt normal, as if you hadn’t just wielding fire a minute ago. “You said a god of fire resided over there in that city, right?” 
“Yeah, you’ll fit right in with all those hot-headed fire-breathers now that you have a bit of magic.” 
As the two of you neared the bottom of the cliff and approached a smaller section of the forest that would lead directly to the road that branched off into either a vast meadow or the gates of the kingdom, the world seemed to stop when a loud rumbling rang through the air. The birds ceased their singing songs and the squirrelish creatures paused their chittering chattering. The ground shook and in the far distance, miles and miles behind the palace where there looked to be nothing but untamed wilderness, balls of fire spewed forth from what you had thought were mountains but were actually volcanoes. Seeing the smoke pour out from the peak, you debated running right back to the beach which was in the opposite direction of the rupture in the earth. 
While initially startled, Grim quickly relaxed and began his walking again just as the sounds of nature resumed their tune. As if by some miraculous work of magic, the volcano stopped its rumbling just as quickly as it began, and the smoke receded as well. Like a pot popping on a stovetop and simmering over with water, but its vapor and contents contained by a top, that’s how rapidly it started and ended. Grim proceeded to walk in front of you to lead the way. Sensing your question before you even voiced it, he called out over his shoulder, 
“Don’t look so panicked, we’re not gonna die. That happens like once a week. It used to be more sparse but… well, like I said, all the humans in the kingdom are a buncha hotheads. Especially their king! Everyone knows the god of pyro has the worst temper of all the seven, that’s why the volcanoes go off when he’s all angry! All you gotta do is gather up the courage to ask him what you want to know, and pray that he doesn’t incinerate you where you stand.”
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theoldsports · 2 days
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SOUR.
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Art Donaldson x Reader (Patrick Zweig x Reader) | SORRY series | 4.2k words
it’s finally here by popular demand. Patrick has entered the plot. this is set before all of the prior chapters, two days before the Donaldson wedding. can be read as part of the SORRY SERIES (read more episodes of their lives here) or on its own. lemme know if you’d like to be on the taglist.
warnings: 18+. angst. it’s brutal angst. more than allusions to Patrick’s canonical use of hard drugs. rehab, allusion to an OD, mention of Art’s disordered eating patterns. they’re bad for each other in a good way. the Donaldsons have a friendly dog. coveting another man’s wife. discussion of niche sexual fantasies. making out. biting. tornados/extreme weather. running away from your problems.
“Art?”
“Nngh.”
“Artie, wake up.”
“‘M up. Fhhh… ‘m up. What’s the matter?” Art grumbled with half shut eyes. “Somethin’ wrong?” He whispered even though they were alone. It was nighttime which meant whispering to Art.
“I don’t like this storm.”
What a sign that storm should have been.
Art smirked. “We’re getting married in, like, three days and you’re worried about the weather?”
“There’s a tornado warning. Or watch. Whichever the worse one is. I saw it on the news.”
Art frowned. “You ever been through a tornado?”
“No.”
Art rolled over from his position in [Y/N]’s arms to face her nose to nose. “I have. A lot. Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. His arm slotted into the dip of her waist and pulled her closer. “Close ‘em for me. That’s it, that’s it.” He coaxed as she followed his directions.
“I don’t see what this has to do with—“
“Shh, listen,” they both got quiet. Rain pelted against the windows. Wind whistled. Branches cracked and crunched. Thunder boomed. [Y/N] could see the gleam of lightning even behind her eyelids. “Hear it?”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
“Yeah.”
“Great. Congrats. Your ears are workin’ best as they can,” Art teased to try and get his fiancé to crack a smile. “Now, which one’s the loudest? Which of the sounds?”
“You breathing.”
“I’m flattered. Which one outside?”
[Y/N] listened. “Right now? The rain, I think.”
“We’re in the clear for now. Let me know when the wind’s louder. Like that real, real crazy whooshing, whistling sound. When it starts whipping like that, we’ll go in the bathroom and lock the doors, yeah? Hell, we can head in now if it would make you feel better?”
“What if I fall asleep before the weather gets worse?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay awake,” Art yawned. “How about I get you up if I notice a disturbance. I gotta take care of my wife, right?”
“I’m not your wife.”
Art sighed. “…I know. I’m just practicing.”
Fortunately, no tornado ever touched down. And Art was still there when [Y/N] woke up.
It always amazed her that Art was still there everyday. For every nasty thing she said to him that she didn’t mean, every argument where she told him Patrick was right, every tennis match won or lost, every natural disaster, every tear shed. Art was there for all of it. He liked the bad moments as much as the good ones because it meant simply more time spent by [Y/N]’s side. He wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.
It was too much power, [Y/N] frequently thought, that she had over Art.
[Y/N] faced Art and brushed his strawberry blonde hair away from his forehead. Art often looked exhausted. He wore his tiredness on his face and shoulders. The exhaustion of constantly chasing, people-pleasing and being a professional athlete could destroy a kid. Art wore it like a Boy Scout badge. [Y/N] could watch him look relaxed forever. It was so rare he looked like that.
“Good morning, guard dog,” [Y/N] whispered. Art stirred. She could tell he was awake even though his eyes were shut due to that crease the reappeared between his eyebrows. It was never not there in his waking moments. Slowly, Art’s hand crept up and gently clutched [Y/N]’s wrist. Art used his grip to slide [Y/N]’s hand down his own drowsy face. He planted a kiss on her palm before tiredly looking at her. “Good morning.” She repeated to him.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” [Y/N] replied. Gray sunlight filtered through the window. “You ready for today?” She smirked.
“What’s today?”
“Patrick’s in town.”
Art dramatically threw his arm over his face and groaned. “I thought he was in tomorrow… Everything was so peaceful… And quiet,” Art mumbled into his elbow. He couldn’t keep a straight face for long and resolved into a soft laugh. “Whose babysitting?” He asked, peering his blue and brown eyes over his arm.
“I’m picking up the cake today, so I figured I could use his strength.”
Art sat up a bit. “You’re getting it today?”
“In the later afternoon, yeah. Why?”
“It’s gonna be, like, stale.”
[Y/N] glanced over at Art. “If we had gotten cupcakes like I wanted, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“You’re such a little jerk.” Art teased.
“Me!” [Y/N] gasped. “It doesn’t even matter because it’s not like you’re gonna eat it anyway because you don’t eat anything.”
“Little jerk!” Art said with his crooked smile widening. He leaned in, slotting an arm over her. “You heard me. You’re a little… troublemaking jerk.” Art’s nose almost pressed against hers.
“Oh yeah? Why are you marrying me then, hm?”
“…You’re pretty,” Art grinned almost timidly, bowing his head. His flat vocal timber sounded like the verbal equivalent of a blush. “Like, really, really pretty. Even if you suck.” Tenderly, Art leaned the rest of the way in to kiss [Y/N]. Once and then twice and then seven times. Maybe fourteen.
And they would have stayed like that all day.
They would have.
BANG BANG BANG.
Like gunshots.
Their lips parted and they held long eye contact. They paused. They sighed.
“Patrick.” They both said.
With a bend of his arms, the full weight of Art’s toned body collapsed on top of [Y/N]’s.
“Pretty baby!”
“No. ‘M pretending he’s not out there,” He laid flat on her, head on her chest. “Can’t go anywhere now.”
BANG BANG BANG on the front door again. Cheese, the couple’s Labrador mix barked at the sound from downstairs.
“Art!”
“Mhm-mm. Nope. Too bad. Sucks for Patrick.”
[Y/N] huffed. “You’re upsetting the dog.”
“He’s upsetting the dog,” Art started to laugh. “He showed up early. I’m just laying here. Hey, hey!” Art jeered as [Y/N] wiggled out from underneath him from backwards. She tried to inch away off the side of the bed. Her shoulders slumped against the carpet, while Art held her legs in place on the bed. [Y/N] dangled in a half on-half off sort of way. Her oversized Stanford t-shirt rolled up during the drama, exposing her breasts to Art. Unashamed, he stared.
[Y/N] twisted her foot into the side of Art’s face, causing a small cry of disgust from him. Just enough chaos for her to slip away. Without hesitation, she tossed the lightweight door open and skittered down the stairs with Art’s long gate keeping pace behind her. His arms reached out in an attempt to grab her. “He’s early! He can wait! He’s never been early in his whole fucking life!” Art laughed. Cheese jumped and barked at the hysteria.
The chase continued until [Y/N]’s hand hit the doorknob and chain. She unlocked it immediately. As [Y/N] ripped the door open, Art’s arm encircled her waist yanking her to the side with the force of his momentum, causing her to laugh with glee.
And on the other side of the door was Patrick Zweig.
Smiling impishly, Patrick took in the disheveled appearances of his two favorite people. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Nice boner.” Patrick smirked at Art, while he pulled [Y/N] into a side hug.
Art didn’t have a boner, or at least a proper one. But the comment was enough to get Art to look. He rolled his eyes and pulled Patrick in for a hug. Cheese ran over to the door for attention, when Art greeted Patrick.
Art closed the door. Patrick ducked down to greet the Labrador too. He liked Cheese, but wouldn’t necessarily choose to be around a dog in his free time the way that Art and [Y/N] did. Cheese really liked Patrick, much to his chagrin, so he pretended to be nice. While Patrick sat on the floor with the animal, he looked up at his best friends. “What’s with the clothes? You just get up?” Art with no shirt in just tube socks and boxers, and [Y/N] in Art’s old college shirt and underwear. They had all seen each other like this so many times growing up that no one particularly cared that the future Donaldsons looked so post coital. It was pretty normal. Patrick’s smirk sliced further across his unwashed face with the ghost of a laugh. “Were you guys fucking?” He said like a horny teenager.
[Y/N] laughed hard and kissed her lifelong best friend on top of the head on her way to make a pot of coffee in the kitchen. “No.” Art sighed in disappointment, flopping onto one of the barstools in the kitchen. This disappointment was either disappointment in Patrick for asking, or disappointment in the lack of sex due to Patrick’s arrival. It was Patrick’s fault either way.
When the dog got bored, Cheese wandered into the kitchen for nonexistent scraps. Patrick pulled up a chair next to Art and dropped his backpack on the floor. “How’s it going, man? You look good. Feeling ready?” He asked, leaning forward to tap Art across his bare knee.
Art nodded as if it say it’s a sure thing. “Thanks. We miss you. We appreciate you being here. It means a lot.”
“I appreciate you being here,” [Y/N] cut in. “Because you’re in my half of the wedding party.” She and Art were always in constant competition over who loved Patrick more. Art wanted him to be his best man. [Y/N] won out, though, having known him since the age of seven and Art only since age twelve.
“Ladies please. Not all at once.” Patrick said. He stood from his chair and wrapped his long arms around [Y/N] in a proper hug finally. Briefly, his chin rested on her head. He stopped before it went on too long.
“Good to see you, kid. How’s it going?” At two months older, [Y/N] had been calling Patrick ‘kid’ diminutively for almost two decades. It was cuter before he got so tall.
“I called you yesterday.” He replied dryly, stepping back to look at her. [Y/N] noted Patrick’s intimately familiar eyes. Too wide, pupils too dilated. Hm. He wore a long sleeved sweater and jeans. And dirty tennis shoes.
“You bring something nicer than this for Saturday?” She teased, pulling on one of his holey sleeves.
Art snorted at Patrick’s expense and cracked a smile. His freckled elbows leaned onto the counter. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here for two seconds, ‘n you’re already giving me tsuris?” Patrick quipped to [Y/N].
“Tsuris… Never thought I’d say it, but you sound like your mom, Patrick.” [Y/N] scoffed. Art snorted a laugh too.
Patrick frowned. “Guess I have to kill myself then.” He joked harshly to more laughter from the other two. M
“Yep. Have some coffee. Both of you. I’m going to put pants on.” [Y/N] turned away and moved to the stairs.
“Aw, do you have to?” Patrick called after her. [Y/N] tossed a middle finger up over her shoulder as she walked away. Art hissed at Patrick’s comment.
“Do you have to flirt with my wife?” Art sneered without malice.
Patrick smiled that boyish small, wicked, unassuming smile. “She’s not your wife yet.” He snapped back. Art smiled at him in return. The two held each other’s gaze adorned with sick grins for a moment before both of them dissolved into laughter. Everything was a competition, but it was only real if they brought it up.
Fast forward a few hours and Patrick and [Y/N] were in the car. Art had taken off for a haircut because his mom thought he looked like a messy little punk and wedding pictures were forever. [Y/N] drove because Patrick drove too fast and without mercy. He had a sports car once when he was in school and still spoke to his parents daily and had notably wrapped it around a telephone pole and walked out without nary a scratch. How’s that for nine lives?
[Y/N] had a sedan.
She and Patrick both held a cigarette out each of their respective windows as she drove.
“You should really quit, y’know.” She told Patrick.
He leaned over and blew smoke in her face. “Yeah, I’ll quit when you do.”
Patrick’s rude gesture didn’t bear acknowledging. “It’s different. You’re an athlete. I watch movies and review them for a living. It’s expected of me. You… you’re making your performance actively worse. You’re kneecapping yourself by choice.” [Y/N] explained.
“I’m good enough to take the hit.”
[Y/N] laughed and took a drag of her cigarette, asking it out the window. “And you’re arrogant enough to make that comment. Sometimes I look at you and you’re still thirteen. I swear to God. It’s fuckin’ funny,” she said. It was quiet for a moment. “Art, though. He doesn’t smoke anymore.”
“I don’t believe you,” Patrick replied immediately with a wild look in his eye. That was apparently a big surprise. “He’s totally lying to you. There’s no way—“
“Nope! Quit on his own too. He just decided he was done with it one day and got all pro-athlete about it.”
“Y-you’re wrong! You’re so wrong. He’s a liar. Last time I was in town, we—“
“No. No fucking way,” [Y/N] shook her head in manic disbelief. “When you came by to—“
“Mhm. Yep. On the patio. You didn’t notice?”
[Y/N] shook her head. “No sense of smell because of… I’m a smoker. I just… He’s such a shit.”
“A shit and a hypocrite!” They both laughed. When the glee dampened naturally and the cigarette butts were pitched out the window, Patrick looked over at [Y/N]. One good, long look. “You ready for Saturday?” Patrick asked because he was a masochist.
[Y/N] found herself often thinking back on this moment. Was this when it had gone wrong beyond repair?
[Y/N] sighed. She would only ever tell Patrick and maybe Art this. “Yes and no.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t say it like that. I have been ready to marry Art since I was, like, seventeen years old. It is unfathomable to me how much love I am capable of giving him, y’know? If he wanted the Mona Lisa, I’d be robbing the Louvre tomorrow. He’s it for me,” she said. Patrick faked a smile very convincingly and nodded for her to go on. “What I’m not looking forward to is everyone I know being in the same room at the same time. I don’t like other people except you and Art. And my editor. That’s about it.”
“You’re not at all worried about spending all that time married to someone?” Patrick tried to jab at her with his words while he scratched his right forearm.
“Not with Art.”
“Wow. That’s awfully grownup of you.”
“Yeah, well. I’m a grownup. With a smokin’ hot fiancé. And he actually cares if I live or die. Isn’t that crazy? My parents weren’t like that with each other. It’s… Am I allowed to say how grateful I am to you for bringing him home for break that one time, or is that stupid?”
“It’s kinda stupid,” he agreed teasingly. In reality, he wanted more than anything to put himself out of his misery. My fault, my fault, my fault. The words looped in Patrick’s head on constant repeat. He wanted to rip his skin off for so many different reasons. He couldn’t take it and he was trapped. Fuck.
Patrick scratched his right forearm again.
“Truth or dare?” Patrick slurred. He was twenty-one and drunk for [Y/N]’s birthday. She, Art and Patrick sat on the disgusting archaic carpet in Art’s dorm room.
“Uh, truth.” [Y/N] said too soberly to sober.
“Boring!” Art said, putting his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh.
Patrick took a long swing of his beer while he thought. “Okay, okay. What’s your weirdest sexual fantasy?” He asked.
“Ew.” [Y/N] wrinkled her nose.
Art thought the question was epic, but wasn’t going to facilitate his girl’s discomfort. “Hey, it’s her birthday, she doesn’t have to—“
“Um, no. I’ll do it. This is an actual dream I had. I think about it kinda all the time. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. It so dumb. So, it’s Art and I’m sitting at the kitchen table with coffee or something. And Art… sings me Happy Birthday like Marilyn Monroe did for JFK. And he’s dressed like Marilyn, but like a boy. No dress, but like the boy version of that look. Then we fuck. That’s weirder than you wanted. That was weird, right?” [Y/N] rambled.
Art leaned in closer to her. They were all drunk as skunks and he couldn’t help bite his lip. His arm pulled her closer to him. Art was handsy when drunk, they were all learning.
“Whose Jackie O?” Patrick asked.
“No Jackie O. And I’m not JFK. He’s just Marilyn. Gentlewomen prefer blondes.” [Y/N] had laughed so hard at that while she tangled her fingers in Art’s sandy hair.
The car ride to get cake and the drive back was the last proper conversation [Y/N] and Patrick had. The pair got home. Nothing seemed unusual to [Y/N] at all. They talked the whole time without any dry spells. The cake, in pieces to be assembled, was carefully toted in and placed way out of the way from disaster. Patrick took his bag to the bathroom, claiming he was going to shower.
[Y/N] shouted after him. “You know where the towels are!”
Patrick looked back over his shoulder at her with a smirk and closed the bathroom door behind him.
And he went out through the bathroom window.
[Y/N] had no idea he had gone until she heard his car start. For a minute, she thought it was the neighbors. She walked halfway down her hallway and saw the bathroom door open. No running shower water, no half nude Patrick shaving or something. She ran back down the hall and glanced out the kitchen window and watched his new white SUV whip out of the driveway.
[Y/N] stood there for several minutes. Staring and staring and staring after him. Not a single effort to move. The first thing she did was pick up her blue slidephone from beside the sink. She called Art, not Patrick. Patrick made his choice.
[Y/N] hadn’t realized she was crying when Art picked up on the other line.
“Honey? Honey, you there? You buttdial me?” Art said. [Y/N] thinks he said shit like that for several moments before she spoke. She just faced the window and stared for what felt like ages.
“Patrick’s gone.”
“Hm?”
“Patrick’s gone.”
“What do you mean he’s gone.”
“He climbed through the bathroom window and drove off. We-we didn’t have a fight. Or-or… He just left. Like it was nothing.”
“I’m on my way. Stay where you are.”
Art rushed back in his blue-black jeep wrangler. It ripped into the smooth driveway causing the tires to damn near squeal. When he got out of his car and bounded to the door, it was clear that about half of his hair had been cut instead of all of it. [Y/N] would have laughed in an ideal situation.
“Baby, hey, what happened?” Art said breathlessly as he unlocked the door. [Y/N] sat at the seldom used dining room table the two of them used to hold their junk mail, sitting straight up and looking through Art. Art was alarmed. She never sat at the table and rarely was her face so expressionless. She was always feeling, expressing, something. He couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, but her eyes were red.
“Patrick seems to have decided not to join us this weekend.” [Y/N] said clearly.
Art closed up the door behind him and walked over to [Y/N]. His scraggly hair and bewildered expression lessened into some devastated softness. He knelt, as he often did, in front of her and took her softer hands in his. “Can you tell me what happened?” Art asked quietly. He felt angry tears sting at the corner of his own traitorous eyes.
“We went out, got the cake, got smoothies, and came back. We… He didn’t say anything weird. Nothing happened.”
“Okay. And then?”
“No, I mean, nothing happened. Like, he was on his best behavior. Like, he was doing so well. He seemed okay. Really okay, y’know?” [Y/N]’s voice broke and finally betrayed her. She choked on her last words and the tears followed. Art’s right hand traveled up the side of [Y/N] face to rest there in comfort. “We talked about everything, like always. He was totally fine. I swear. Then we got home and he says I’m gonna take a shower, or something. And then I heard his car pull away. That’s it.”
“I’m gonna fucking murder him.” Art said, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. He stood from the floor and pulled his own phone out of his pocket. Art leaned against the table [Y/N] sat at. He called Patrick. Then he called him again. And another time. Up to what felt like twelve times or so. He left voicemail after voicemail.
“Hey, call me.”
“Hey, it’s Art. Call me.”
“Art again. Call me back. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m sorry about the last one. Patrick, call me. Are you coming home?”
“Hey, man. Fuck you. Fuck off.”
“I’m sorry about the last one too. I’m… Understandably, I’m kinda… Fucking pissed at you. I don’t need to talk to you like that, though. Are you okay? Are you safe? What happened? You can talk to me.”
“You’re an asshole. I wish you could see the look on [Y/N]’s face right now.”
“Don’t come back.”
Eventually, the voicemail box was full.
[Y/N] reached wordlessly for Art’s hand. She could feel his rare anger climbing. He got this ridiculous blush across his cheeks when he got angry and she could see it against the sunset’s glow. “Art?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened,” He said, turning his eyes to her. “I’m so sorry, hon.”
“It’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize, pretty baby.”
“Yeah, but he’s my best friend. He’s your best friend,” He ranted. “That was a dick move to leave like that. I’m sorry that happened to you. He’s a piece of shit.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“No! I do. I do mean that. For the last year, he’s treated us, especially you like trash. Do you not see how much more you deserve, [Y/N]? I don’t know what’s going on with him… Do you?”
“He’s…” [Y/N] looked down. “You think he’s using again?”
Art didn’t say anything, he just looked down. That was answer enough. [Y/N] buried her face in her hands with a shuddering sob. Art pulled her to her feet and into his chest. He buried his face in her hair, unable to hold his own tears back. Eventually, the pair landed on the sagging green couch. Art’s legs wrapped around [Y/N]’s middle. They kept the news on all night. In case he matched an accident description. They called hospitals and hunted for John Does that were over six feet with dark hair and stubble.
“What are we gonna do? He’s… He’s not coming back, is he?” [Y/N] whispered. Cheese rested his heavy beige head on her thigh. He obviously didn’t understand why Patrick had gone either.
“No, I don’t think he is,” Art replied, lips against her forehead. “I’m sorry.
Pathetically, [Y/N] raised her head to Art. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I did.”
“You didn’t do anything.” He said. [Y/N] forced Art to lean back against the couch and she laid her head on his chest. Cheese circled for a new position where he could be touching them both at the same time.
[Y/N] knew it was a little bit her fault. She leaned up and kissed Art on the corner of his lips. “It’s my fault.”
“Then it’s both of our faults. You can’t talk about yourself like that. You’re the only you I’ve got, babe.” Art huffed tiredly.
[Y/N] dug her hands into Art’s hair the way he liked. “Can I fix your haircut? Haircut’s a generous way to describe it.”
“Damn, I was actually trying out this new thing. You don’t think it’s cool?”
“Yeah, it’s big for guys who blindly answer their wife’s phone calls, I hear.” [Y/N] said weakly.
Wife was all Art heard and he melted.
“I have never known someone I love as much as you,” Art said. “I’m all in with you. You know that, right?”
“‘Course I do.” [Y/N] did know. She sunk her teeth into the freckled skin on Art’s right shoulder gently and he moaned. Over top of the spot, [Y/N] left a trail of kisses down Art’s bicep.
“I’m gonna call his mom.” He said once [Y/N]’s pace had slowed. Art’s stomach growled. When he got upset, he didn’t eat. [Y/N] told herself it was because he had forgotten to in stressful moments, but wondered if it was a punishment instead. She pretending she hadn’t heard the sound.
“They don’t talk.”
“I know. Just in case he turns up.”
Patrick did turn up. About ten hours later, wet and unconscious in the emergency room. Following a psych eval, Patrick went to a short stint in rehab. He had gone once prior at the age of twenty. Needless to say Patrick missed the wedding. It was too much money to up and cancel, according to Art’s piece of shit stepfather, Douglas. Patrick made no efforts to contact the Donaldsons since leaving, as he left or following rehab. Despite all of Art and [Y/N]’s tireless efforts to find him, all they had to show for it was his disconnected phone number and a crippling feeling of shame and loss. Patrick had vanished from their lives without giving either one of them a say.
Patrick was gone.
But Art was there for all of it.
TAGLIST:
@toxiclovergirl @basicallynotbreathing @miniemonie2001 @valentine333 @tremendoushorsepeachbanana-blog @athxnss @babyspice6 @diorrfairy @donaldsonsdarling @muthafuckingstargirl @avylanchce @shysstuff @soberbabes @ysuftmikey @pussy-f41ry
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kingkatsuki · 3 days
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— sleepy
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I’m still deciding how to characterise him because I feel like he’s got so much depth😫
Togame hates having his naps interrupted— unless it’s by you.
Pairing: Togame Jo x f!reader.
Warnings: 18+, dirty talk, established relationship, handjobs, cockwarming, lazy sex, one spank, dick riding, creampie.
Word Count: 2.1k.
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Togame Jo is handsome like this. Thick brows softened behind circular glasses as his dark lashes tickled the lenses, eyes shut softly as his chest rose and fell steadily with the rhythm of his breathing. His yellow Shishitoren jacket is strewn over the back of the couch, sandals are kicked off on the floor as he spreads his thick thighs.
You’re happy to feel him half-hard when you settle yourself on top of him, plush thighs on either side of his hips as you press your weight against his crotch. You’d expect him to wake with a jolt if you didn’t know him any better, so used to having to stay alert to avoid the conflict from Furin or any other rival gangs that may filter into unknown territory. But Togame already has you mapped out like the back of his hand, warm palms immediately smooth along the exposed skin of your thighs as his lashes flutter. Staring up at you through half-lidded eyes as he stifles a yawn.
“You ain’t ever lettin’ me nap, huh?” His voice is laced with sleep as calloused fingers dig into the plush of your thighs, shifting slightly beneath you as he feels the warmth between your thighs press against his crotch from the motion. The way you tighten your grip around his shoulders at the contact doesn’t go unnoticed. He slides his outstretched legs back in as he shifts you on his lap, bringing you closer to him.
“You can nap later” You tease, pressing a kiss to his lips as his tongue juts out to taste your lipgloss, “I missed you today.”
You loved having Togame like this— soft and vulnerable, a side of him that no one else got to see.
“I missed you too.” He hums, tilting his head against the back of the couch to get a better look at you as you grind yourself against his crotch again, “Oh? You missed me like that—” He feigns ignorance— he knows exactly what you want.
“Been thinking about you all day,” You admit, feeling your skin flush as the heat inside you continues to rise, a neglected throb pulses between your thighs as your cunt begs for attention.
“Ah, so that’s the real reason you woke a sleeping man up, hm?” He pretended to grumble, his fingers already dipping into your thighs in response, “Tell me what you need?”
“Need your cock, Jo,” You mumbled, leaving glossy kisses against his jawline, “Please?”
“Take whatever you want, sweetheart.” He goads, “It’s yours.”
You love when he indulges you, leaning back just enough to pull his pants down as he mutters complaints under his breath as he’s forced to raise his hips just enough to leave the fabric nestled around the curve of his ass. A soft pout appears on his lips that you can’t help but kiss away before you take in the sight of his cock, hot and heavy as it lays against his pelvis.
Gently taking him into your hands as you pump him softly, your thumb swipes at the bead of pre that pearls at the tip as you smooth it along the length of him. Togame is so pliant when he’s like this, allowing you to take the reigns and use him how you see fit.
“You’re such a tease,” He chastises, his head strewn against the back of the couch as your eyes follow the column of his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs when you press your thumb against his slit, swallowing thickly as his hips jerk into your grip.
“I dunno,” You smile back, “You seem to like it.”
“Your hand’s wrapped around my dick, what’s not to like?” He drawls, squeezing your thigh gently.
“So why don’t you wanna fuck me?” You press, and you feel his grip tighten against your plush skin.
“Believe me, sweetheart,” He yawns, not bothering to cover his mouth as he flashes sharp canines, “I always wanna fuck you.”
“So why don’t you?” You pout, running your thumb along the underside of his cock.
“I just like seeing you needy,” Togame grins, and it has your brows furrowing in annoyance.
“I’m not needy,” You gasp in mock offence as you jab a finger against his chest, “You’re the one that’s been out fighting all morning.”
“You always need my cock to shut you up, yeah?” He ignores you with a dull smirk, staring at you with half-lidded eyes.
Togame his calloused palm along your thigh to the curve of your ass as he pulls your body against his, your face buried in the apex of his neck as he grips his cock steady. Giving himself a languid pump with a flick of his wrist as his other hand pulls your panties to the side, too tired to even attempt to undress you. His slender fingers curl around the fabric as he helps guide the tip of his cock towards your drooling hole, holding you steady as you meet resistance and begin to drop yourself down on his cock.
“Fuck,” You sigh as you feel the delicious ache of him stretching you out. Grinding your hips against him as you feel your body begin to relax and mould to him, taking inch after inch as he finally bottoms out inside you.
“Jo,” You murmur against the column of his neck, feeling him shift beneath you as he palms the swell of your ass, “Pay attention to me.”
“You always have my attention, sweetheart,” He replies, smoothing a palm along your spine as he holds you to his chest, “But it’s bedtime.”
“It’s four in the afternoon,” Your lips curl into a grin against his pulse point as he delights in the saccharine tone of laughter that tumbles from your lips.
Togame breaks off into a guttural groan that rumbles deep in his throat when he feels your tight heat clench around him from the rhythm of your laughter, a sound that vibrates all the way through his neck as you feel it against your lips.
“Yeah, see—” He agrees, tightening his grip around your frame to prevent you from grinding yourself down on his lap, “Bedtime.”
He tries to resist the urge to rut into you like this, to feel the blunt head of his cock carve away at your insides as you pulse and whine above him. Your fingers tease through the short hair at the back of his neck as you wriggle your hips in defiance.
“You never let me nap, woman.” Togame grunts.
“We can’t fall asleep like this.” You coo, warm breath fans his ear as you try to find purchase against his broad shoulders.
“Sure we can.” He counters, “Just close your eyes.”
Togame was certain he could quite happily die like this— the last thing he feels as he takes his dying breath is the sensation of your perfect walls wrapped tight around his cock. What better way to go?
“You’re so silly,” You scoff, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you continue to roll your hips above him, lifting yourself before dropping yourself down on his length as you deliberately press against his pelvis with each forward motion to add some friction to your clit.
You think he’s maybe falling asleep until he strokes his palms along your waist, mapping a path along your sides until he finds the curve of your chest. Pushing your shirt over your breasts as he palms them through the thin cups of your bra. The corners of his lips curl into a content smile when he feels you clench around him in response, your pace faltering when his thumbs graze your nipples. Feeling them pebble beneath his touch as he pulls the cups of your bra down to settle below your tits.
“You’re so pretty,” Togame mumbles, rolling the stiff peaks between his thumb and forefinger as you scoff.
“You’re not even looking at me.”
“I don’t have to look to know.” He shoots back, catching you off guard with a rough smack against your ass.
“Oh,” Your hips jerk, velvety walls clenching around him in response as you feel your skin begin to prickle under his touch.
“You’re always pretty.” He parts his eyes into a tired squint, just enough to adjust to the afternoon sunlight streaming into the room as he watches you. Using him for your pleasure as you keep a sloppy pace, hips rolling as his cock moulds you into the shape of him.
You reward him with a kiss— a slow sensual one with tongues clashing and swallowed breaths as a groan rises in his throat.
“Jo,” You mumble against his lips, “I’m tired.”
“Oh?” He goads, “You’re tired? When you woke me up to do this.”
“Please, Jo.” You plead, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth.
“I suppose I’ll have to do the work, huh?” He rasps, squeezing your ass playfully.
“Fuck me, please?” You whine, and Tokgame feels it. The way your walls tremble around him with desire, desperately trying to milk him of his seed as he feels your slick drool down to his balls. His eyes are still shut behind circular glasses as he moves his fingers to where your bodies are connected, stroking along the length of him that pokes out of your tight cunt to feel how wet you are.
“Fuck.” He groans, and you can tell that’s his final piece of resolve wavering.
You’re the only thing that makes him want to go fast— the pulse of your warm hole coaxing him further as he expels a deep breath. Togame’s grip on you tightens as he holds you steady, fingers dig into your hips as he starts a rough pace. The sound of skin against skin echos the room as he fucks up into you with vigour. The harsh movement has your breasts bouncing as you scramble for purchase, clinging onto the back of his neck near the base of his skull as you rest your forearms on strong shoulders.
He loves you like this— so pliant and at his mercy as his balls slap against the swell of your ass with each rough rut. Pulling the prettiest sounds he’s certain he’s ever heard from between your lips as you begin to crescendo, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of your climax as your walls clamp down around him.
“That’s it, baby,” He grunts, as his hips snap roughly, “I know you’re close.”
Pearly tears clump in your lashes as your nails dig into his scalp, the coil inside you dangerously close to unravelling as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each pronounced thrust, “Give it to me.”
And you do. Crying out his name as your toes curl and your eyes roll into your skull, euphoria washes over you as it’s all you can do but bask in the pleasure as a mind-numbing orgasm surges through you.
“That’s my girl,” Togame is quick to prolong it, his eyes open and intent on you through polarised lenses as he moves his thumb to rub at your puffy clit. Ignoring your pleas that it’s too much, you can’t— when he knows you can, and you will, “That’s my good fucking girl.”
Your body trembles against him as your second climax hits that much harder than your first. Convulsing against him you pull your face back from his neck, sitting upright as the pleasure wracks through you, flowing through your veins like an addictive drug as he watches you ride it out. Clenching around his cock as your cunt eagerly begs him for his release, wanting to feel every drop of it.
“Fucking hell,” He pants, holding you steady as he begins to use his grip on you to bring your body down to meet his thrusts. Forcing you onto his cock with each rough snap of his hips, “You’re so needy.”
It’s all you can do but sit there and take it as he uses you for his own release, barely managing a handful of thrusts before he reaches his peak. Holding your hips flush with his as he pumps spurt after spurt of warm, white cum inside your velvety walls. Coating you with his spend as he leaves you seated on his cock, basking in the afterglow as he feels your walls continue to pulse and throb around him as he keeps you plugged with his spend.
You whine when you try to pull yourself off him and his harsh grip stops you, leaving you positioned on his cock as he wraps his arms around your body to press you against his chest. Tucking your head onto his shoulder as he presses wet, open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone.
“Not so fast, sweetheart,” He hums, his hands back to tracing lines against the curve of your spine, “You got what you wanted— now we’re takin’ a nap.”
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weirdo09 · 2 days
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hobie brown
i’d just like to say, i hope y’all never meet a black boy nor man because y’all’s behavior over one black teenager is honestly disturbing.
like the racist headcanons, the not taking accountability for your disturbing fics about him because “HIS AGE ISNT MENTIONED!!” like don’t act dumb, you know them people said that he’s a slight older boy than miles which would be like 1-2 years, making him 16-17. it’s also just the “i want his dick inside of me” “i want to have his kids” and the sex hcs where it’s like “he’ll fuck you hard and not give you aftercare, just leaves you to take care of yourself.”
i’m not really bothered by the smut fics and hcs cause he is attractive and i will read them every once in awhile but y’all be taking it to the extremes, calling him toxic, making him out like some abusive boyfriend, he’s only sweet when he wants you to have sex with him, he only wants you for sex, he’s a full person but only cool because he’s in a band and has sex with you, he lets his band mates fuck you without your consent, he rapes you for whatever reason (y’all’s writings not mine), he doesn’t care about stopping to see if you’re okay or if you need a break.
basically what i’m seeing is that he’s only good for sex and some of the good fics about him only portray certain parts of him. like i’m all for writing about your favorite characters n what not but if you’re basically gonna treat his character like you’re personal boytoy and not see him as anything else, it’s really harmful. especially with y’all not tagging your fics correctly and the smut fics i previously mention get seen by a minor who would want to read smut of him but not that bullcrap.
y’all literally write him being abusive to his partner, not just physically but call it “teasing”. i’m sorry but if my partner said something about breaking up with me or that i’m not good enough, would i think that that’s just “teasing”? like honestly, if you treat all your ‘blorbos’ like this then i feel sorry for you because hobie’s an amazing character that isn’t just there for you to dream about fucking and getting pregnant by him.
he’s there to show you how corruption and fascism impacting your way of life can lead to you wanting to rebel and become an anarchist to that society. he’s there to teach you that you can make your rules, that you’re more than what one person tells you, you tell yourself what you wanna be. he’s a symbol for black people who don’t wanna follow the rules of a white supremacist, fascist society, for the people who’ve ever just been like “fuck the government, i’m my own person.”
i really feel like y’all take him for granted and he is a character for a children’s type of media so the “well minors shouldn’t be looking for his smut!!” doesn’t work here. honestly, do y’all ever care about characters that aren’t perceived as “fuckable” or “attractive” by your standards? it just really pisses me off because y’all act like that’s all he’s there for, your yearning for BBC has really dimmed your perception of this character. HES A IMPORTANT CHARACTER FOR YALL TO ROLE MODEL CAUSE ITS OBVIOUS YALL DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE MOVIE’S CHILD AUDIENCE BUT YOU GIVE A FUCK ABOUT HIM SO
if you care about hobie, please remember that there’s more to him than you wanting him to fuck you and he would hate the things that you’ve done to him because you have bigger issues in the world than “he would fuck you with his big cock.” LIKE WAKE THE FUCK UP WE COULD BE MAKING ANALYSIS OF HIS CHARACTER BUT INSTEAD YOU THINK THAT HES JUST THERE TO BE EYE CANDY LIKE OMGGGG
just please for the sack of everyone, learn more about his character and stop tryna be antiblack and sex crazed over him. if you love hobie, just stop being the way that you are because it’s honestly disgusting to have to see grown adults wanting a canon minor to fuck them. you ain’t slick, the fact that i even have to write this is disgusting. do better, fandom is more than saying that you would fuck a character, care more about the teenagers on this site that are in the fandom with you as well. stop being selfish and start caring about the other people in the fandom.
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Take A Bite
Togachaco
Ochaco was more relieved than she would admit when she heard the villain was alive. Himiko had essentially sacrificed herself for the hero despite everything. She felt as if she was in debt to the blonde, telling those she could to change the sentence, even just a little.
Once Himiko recovered Ochaco visited. Both were surprised by this, but she couldn't stay away. She had to thank her in person. Himiko felt off about it, the moment Ochaco turned her down before still ringing in her head. But she still couldn't feel that lingering adoration for the hero.
Himiko was sent to a rehabilitation center, one of the best the country could supply. Through the years Ochaco made an effort to visit, sometimes bringing sweets for the two to share. Himiko was over the moon with this, feeling gratefulgreatful that Ochaco didn't fully hate her after their fight.
Ochaco had finally settled into her own agency as Himiko was allowed to be released. The country had mixed feelings on the matter, but the recovery hero assured everyone that she was no longer a threat. If Uravity had said so, she must be right. Right?
The first few months were rough, Himiko being turned away for what she had done in the past. It was just like it was when she was a child, pushed away for who she was. This time she had Ochaco to lean on, she had a friend to help her through it all.
The two lived near each othereachother, only an apartment complex apart. Although the amountammount of nights they'd spend in each other'seachothers homes made it seemmade seem as if they were solely living together. Neither minded, Ochaco was happy she could keep Himiko company.
A few years into civilian life Ochaco brought up a conversation they hadn't had in just less than decade. She couldn't look her friend in the eye as flustered mumbles spewed from her lips. When she finally looked up, scared of the silence from Himiko she froze. The poor woman was a crying, blushing mess. All she could do was nod and grin as Ochaco laughed.
The public wasn't prepared for the two as a couple. They were on the headlines for a few weeks, even a few months when there wasn't a better story to publish. This wasn't the first instance of a hero and ex villain becoming something, but they couldn't report on Touya and Misheru forever.
At one point the news of them became too much for Himiko, leaving the woman to think over her actions. She hadn't thought of them as bad, she really hadn't. She viewed what she did as love, love for the boy in middle school, love for Izuku, love for Ochaco.
"What's wrong? You haven't said anything since I got home." Ochaco's voicevoive was sweet like strawberries, she loved strawberries. The hero had just returned from another successful rescue, texting her girlfriend if she'd like to go out after she got home. "I was worried when you didn't text back."
Himiko could only hum as she stared out the window to their now shared apartment. They rested along the coast, a perfect ocean view for them to wake up and have coffee to. Something was off and it made Ochaco nervous. She sat down, following her gaze. The sun was still high above the sea, plenty of daylight left.
"Am I still a shit person?"
Ochaco frowned. Of course she wasn't. They wouldn't be living together if she was a shit person. "No, you're a better person now. Those days don't count anymore."
"Everyone keeps bringing it up. They bring up everything from beforebefore up, especially my quirk." Her voice was quiet, shaky. She rarely had moments where she broke down. But when she did she felt safe because of who she had with her.
Ochaco turned to her girlfriend with an odd look. She didn't like seeing anyone cry and definitelydeffinately not her girl. The subject of her quirk was one they tried to avoid, it becoming useless despite the lingering urge for her to sink her teeth into someone. Ochaco stood, bringing her girlfriend with her. Her sleeve was rolled up and her arm outstretched. The skin heldhelf small scars over the years of hero work. Himiko always loved to rub her fingers over the marks and kiss them while they cuddled. But now she just looked confused at the woman, wondering what she was doing.
"Ocha?"
"Take a bite."
"..."
"What?" Himiko's brows furrowed and she glanced between her extended arm and her face.
"I know you're not supposed to use your quirk, but I also know that you can'tcant help how it makes you feel. You're not ready to let it go, and you don't have to. Just promise me that my blood is the only one you'll drink." Ochaco looked determined, a look her girlfriend always admired. She took the arm in her hand, skin soft against her fingertips. She lowered her lips to the skin, hesitant. Ochaco took in a sharp breath as teeth breached the skin. She didn't pull away. Himiko closed her eyes as the flavor she thought she lost seeped into her mouth. It was sweet like her. She didn't register the tears that fell from her lashes.
"I had a dream one night while we were all fighting," Ochaco started. "I dreamt I was little again and I don't remember where I was, but I know you were there. You were crying and you mentioned something about your quirk. I rolled up my sleeve and said it was ok, but then I woke up. I'm sure if we did end up meeting sooner I would've done the same."
Himiko pulled away and placed her palm over the small injury to stop its bleeding for a moment. She couldn't help but smile at her. A hand was placed on her cheek and face brought in for a kiss. "I love you and your cute smile," Ochaco hummed.
"I love you too, Ochaco.”
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melit0n · 5 months
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'I'm unfollowing all of the Sleep Token fandom blogs I was following.' @burning-cathedrals well be on your bloody way then. Not tolerating people like you at all.
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hoshigray · 2 months
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Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward person but somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: why not both? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, felt like doing a threesome for some reason lmao
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting - sex in public places; gymnasium locker room + dining hall + college dorms - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face + throat-fucking - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping, grinding and licking/sucking) - face-sitting - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - anal fingering (f! receiving) - kissing/making out - protected sex (psa: warp it up or get tf up) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - sato + sugu being whipped over you, hehe~ - slight humor - mention of tears and drool.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k (pretty long for a req, lol)
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“Oh, Y/n, it’s good to see you. Did you have a good weekend? Let’s walk each other to class; I was waiting for you.”
“Y/nnnn! This cold day is so much warmer now that you’re here. Let’s grab something to eat at the dining hall, okay?”
You thought college life couldn’t get any more difficult than it already is. Oh, how you were so wrong… 
Being on your own on campus was hard enough; states away from your family and having to rely on and take care of yourself while also striving for a better education. On top of this, making friends (outside of your roommates Shoko and Utahime) is such a social and excruciating chore as it’s challenging to put yourself out for people to notice you. Making small talk with your peers or talking/discussing group material in classes has your heart racing enough – not to mention trying to commit to clubs – making you feel a bit of a failure as a human being.
With that, you almost dwell on not trying at all. You’re utterly content with your inner circle with your roommates, waking up and heading to classes and back, eating college food, and sleeping after reading for a lecture. This routine of sticking to yourself was a notion you’ve grown to accept and find comfort in — no need to change it if it’s been doing you well this far.
That is until you meet them — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the best friends of your roommate Shoko. 
Gojo is the star player of the school’s basketball team, a famous face among the class years, and the “disgustingly tactless, cutesy prince” of your year, as described by Utahime. By morning, he’s a dedicated student in his business administration major and history minor classes; by afternoon, he is his playful, social, and charismatic snow-haired soul, grabbing the attention of others and bringing life to those around him with his bright cadence. In addition, he’s a talented figure, capturing the hearts of many with his model work in fashion shows and playing fan-favorite roles in plays.
In contrast, Geto was a much more mellow star that pulled the hearts of students and professors alike. The raven-haired bioengineering major was a boy whose presence was easy not to notice yet quick to pull you in when making himself known. His tall, docile figure emitted an aura that accompanied the soothing tune of his voice, the perfect combination that made him trustworthy and obliging to the students around him and his lacrosse teammates. With the charming features of a heartthrob and the alluring speech of a leader, he’s someone many would turn to in search of a person to follow and praise.
Satoru and Suguru, two complete opposites – two best friends – who are, without a doubt, the twin stars of this school. However, there was one thing the two shared in common, something that made your heart skip and your mind race every time knowing this fact: the two were unmistakably and sickeningly in love with you!
How? You do not know. It all started when Shoko brought them over one night for dinner, and you saw them for a quick moment in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before rushing back into your room. Next thing you knew, you had begun to see and run into them every so often, which soon turned to at least once per day. And now, like a white bubbly puppy and a black, quietly affectionate cat, you could not shake them off you when and wherever you went.
Oh, it was something you were not used to, being sneaked up from behind by Gojo, who’d pull you in for a hug or lift you with every greeting in public (as if you weighed like nothing)! Especially in classes where Geto would surprise you with his calm voice and a warm hand on your shoulder to check if you were okay before claiming the chair next to you. And you couldn’t push them away — how could you when two of the most renowned faces on school grounds want to be around your presence!? Good Lord, it was all overwhelming, Shoko and Utahime having to step in to beat the boys into shape for making you uncomfortable.
And then there are those times when the two would butt heads with each other because of you! There have been a handful of times where if one had you to themselves, the other would bore glares to the former’s skull. Gojo would suck his teeth with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, white brows furrowed and ticked off blue eyes concealed by his dark circle shades. “Yo, Buddha with bangs, can you let go? Y/n promised to hang with me after their classes ended, and I’d be damned if you’d be third-wheeling.”
“That’s not happening, Satoru,” Geto’s hand grasps yours with more grip, royal purple eyes narrowed at his white-haired friend. “Y/n and I have a presentation to work on for tomorrow. Go lollygag somewhere else.”
Two positive bundles of life will immediately turn hostile when it comes to you, suffocating your very being as you’re stuck in the middle of them. It’s bad enough being with either of them has people notice and talk about you; it’s another thing when you’re being fought over like some small bunny between two snarling wolves. Oh God, why me!!??
But it wasn’t all bad. If anything, being fawned over by the two was a strange thing that has happened to you thus far, and not in a terrible way. Gojo has made you a lot more open and social than before, dragging you to parties he’s been invited to and to his crowded games (where he’s always sure to find you and blow a kiss). And spending time with Geto has sparked instances where you’re courageous enough to speak for yourself with a bit of a push from him, throwing in your inputs for class discussions or having him aid you in knowing your material when you two study together.
The two most popular guys in school who flatter and are obsequious over you. That in itself is enough to make your cheeks and ears dial in warmth, shielding your face in your pillows just thinking about them. You like them both, bound to be drawn in by the handsome boys and their pursuit of you.
However, their infatuation was something you’d find out goes beyond words and handholds. An obsession for you embroidered in their very minds…and bodies.
“…Mhahhh, Go—Mmmph! Gojooo…we shouldn’t be doing this…”
“Aww, c’mon, Y/n, you know I don’t like it when you call me by last name. It’s just the two of us here…Fuck, keep licking it like that…”
Sneaking into the basketball team’s locker room is one thing; sneaking in with the star player in the team with you between his legs on the bench and sucking his dick? Oh, that’s a can of worms you never thought you’d open in your entire life. 
Gojo brings his head back, banging on the locker behind him as the contact of your tongue on his pink tip sends shivers up to his shoulders. “Fuuuck, you feel so good, baby. Gonna make me cum again…” You peer up with lidded eyes as you suck his tip into your mouth, him humming at the warm sensation of your mouth swallowing his length whole. Your face is hot of embarrassment, being looked down on by him as you do such an indecent thing on him in a place of changing for men. 
This was his idea – bringing you to the gymnasium to watch him practice with his teammates for an upcoming game. Then, he pulls you aside once the guys want another fifteen-minute water break, bargaining into the men’s locker room and pulling you in for a hot kiss. Sucking on and nibbling on your lips and tongue has you mewl sweetly for him, distracted as he pulls his shorts and briefs down to expose the erection growing inside him. “Sorry, you just looked too cute watching me from the side,” he’d say with a hazy glint in his eyes shielded by his shades.
So here you are, sucking him off to the hilt, where your lips meet strands of his white pubes, making your boyfriend cum for the second time. Gojo brings a hand to your head for purchase, moaning as your hand massages his balls. “—Ahh, fuck…God, you’ve gotten so good at that, cutie. Can’t get enough of you...”
His words burn your ears, his aroused tone making your face even more hot to bear. Gosh, this was such a dangerous game; your nerves constantly on edge in hopes nobody would walk in.
However, your worries might have been what jinxed your fate because you two heard the door to the locker room open. You instantly move your mouth away from Gojo’s cock and stand to panic. But before you could, Gojo quickly grabbed you by the wrist and took you to one of the bathroom stalls. You sat on the toilet, bewildered at being dragged all over this fitness center. Then, Gojo brings his dick to your face again, and you give him the most shockingly confused expression as if he can’t hear the commotion of two people speaking where they used to be.
“Relax, no one’s coming here,” Liar, we almost got caught! He pushes the tip to your mouth, and you murmur on his length, filling your mouth and throat. “Let’s make this one quick, okay?”
You were too busy registering him place his hands on your head before he could slam himself to your mouth; the sudden thrust of his hips propelling his cock deep into the tight crevices of your throat makes you grip onto his shorts for dear life. The slap of his ruts fills your eardrums; you can’t tell how far or close the two guys who entered the locker room are. He’s making you focus on nothing but him — a selfish objection from a selfish man as he’s using you to relieve himself in the men’s locker room. God, this was such a bad situation, and yet your lower half couldn’t stop the throbs that have you shifting your thighs together. How embarrassing! 
“Hhnnn, fucking shit, your throat feels so good,”  he praises, his slender fingers massaging your scalp. Your tongue brushes the underside of his length in a way that has his pace go faster, and he has to keep his moans to a lower volume. “Shiiit, baby, I’m gonna cum…Take it all in…!”
You have no choice but to, forced to gulp down all of his load that he spills into your tight, warm throat. He still rocks his pelvis into you until every pump of his jizz is inside you. When your ears pick up the sound of the locker room door opening and closing with the dismissal of the two strangers, that’s when Gojo takes his long shaft out of your mouth, spit connecting from your tongue to his cockhead is wiped with haste. 
But then, Gojo pokes your cheek with his tip, a sign that he wants to go again. You throw quiet pleas, “N–No, Gojo! You have to get back to practice—“
“Shhh, those guys can survive a few games without me. And besides,” he gently slaps your cheek with his cock. How vulgar! “I’ll fuck your mouth til the end of the day if you don’t stop using my last name when it’s just the two of us here.” The playful grin on his lips doesn’t make that threat any better. “One more time, please?”
With hesitant eyes, you place kisses on his shaft while stroking him. “Only one more…okay, Satoru?”
He beams with the dimples of his cheeks. “Yes, pretty girl~.”
And it doesn’t stop there — because Geto is no better. 
“Aww, you two are so cute together~”
You squirm on the booth seat you’re sharing with your other boyfriend, you two sitting across from his friends — a senior couple he shares a lab with that invited him for dinner. Unsurprisingly, you were his plus one, knowing you’re not one for being around people you’re not familiar with. And yet here you are, caged by the wall and Geto’s frame to keep you in this conversation on the side of the busy dining hall.
Geto chuckles before brushing your cheek, "Aren’t we? But they’re the cutest thing to me.” He says as he places a swift kiss on your cheek; it’s an action that has your face grow in warmth — and the couple “awwing” at his affection.
The guy of the couple speaks to the dark, long-haired other. “I never knew you were one for relationships, Geto; you seem so busy with Bio and your clubs that you don’t seem to have time to lay low and be with someone.”
“Mmm, I thought so, too. That is until I met Y/n through a friend of mine,” you jerk at the silent touch of his pinkie grazing your thigh, noting it had sneaked under your skirt to graze its skin. Your eyes peek in his direction, finding that he remains eye contact with the guy he’s talking with. “And, you know, I got to know them here and there, shared some classes with them on the side. Now, I just can’t imagine them being out of my line of sight.”
The guy across laughs. “Sounds kinda obsessive!”
Geto shrugs with a chortle. “I guess it’s like that, I don’t know. I’m just really crazy about them; they’re my sweetheart after all.”
“That’s so sweet!” The girl senior across exclaims, turning to you to ask, “So, how long have you and Geto been a thing, Y/n?”
The question has you stumped for a bit as you weren’t ready to be thrown inquiries. And before you answer, you feel Geto’s hand rub on your thigh. “U-Umm, me—ahem—Geto and I have been a couple for quite a while now? My roommate was the one who introduced me to him—Mmmm!” You briskly flatten your lips at your squeak because the fingers inside your skirt pinch your skin. On command, you spread your legs for Geto to insert his hand inside your panties.
The girl asks more questions. “Oh? So, your roommate brought you two together. Did you know of them before?” 
“Well, not really…She and Geto—Ohh!” You bring your hand to your lips at the graze of Geto’s forefinger on your clit. You turn to him and are immediately locked into his violet gaze. He lifts a brow with an undisturbed smile, and you gulp. “I–I mean, Suguru and my roommate have been best friends since high school, so I kinda got…Nnmm,” you chew your lips when he bullies a digit between your folds to play and tease. “She was the one who introduced me to him…”
“Is that so? Hehe, it’s amazing how the world works, huh?” You listen, but your mind is too focused on Geto’s digits swiping and nestling across your wetness to have your body more excited about his touch. And it gets worse as he inserts his forefinger inside your vagina, causing you to jolt and suppress your mewl by leaning into his shoulder, gripping onto the sleeve of his turtleneck. “Here are two lovebirds all lovey-dovey with each other thanks to one friend bringing them together. It’s crazy imagining you two would’ve never met hadn’t that happened.”
Geto hums at that comment, “I agree; I have to thank Shoko for bringing this little angel to my arms.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, completely nonchalant compared to the quickened pace of the digit scraping your insides. “Isn’t that right, my love?”
With trenched brows and a shaky breath, you try to reply to the awaiting couple. “Mhmm, yes, I’m so grateful that Suguru is in my life…He’s been such a help to me,” his forefinger goes slow, having you feel every dent and knuckle. “Hahhh, he’s so good to me, and I love him just as mu—Mmmph!!”
“Hmm? Are you okay, Y/n?” How can you tell the guy across from you that your boyfriend’s thumb just surprised your clit with a swipe?  You’d rather melt on this floor had you not buried your face into Geto’s shoulder. 
Speaking of who, he takes the initiative to answer for you. “I think they’re a little parched, must’ve been this lemonade I got for them. I’ll go get them some water—“
“Oh, no, no! I’ll go get the water; I was gonna get more of those garlic knots anyways.” The girl stops Geto from moving, sliding from the booth seat with her boyfriend’s hand to follow suit. “C’mon, let’s leave these lovebirds for a bit. We’ll be right back!”
And so they leave, thanking your lucky stars. Once their figures are nowhere to be seen within the sea of students, you probe the man with a trembling whimper. “Mmmph, Suguru, please, take it out before—Ahhh…! They come back…”
Luckily, he listens to your request with no argument, withdrawing his digit from your wet slick and underwear. And to your horror, he brings the finger to lick and suck and says with a dark look, “Just checking to see what I’ll be having later.”
It doesn’t matter wherever or whenever; Gojo and Geto will be sure that their love for you is expressed to you every chance they get. 
It doesn’t matter the day or hour, whether you are free from assignments, spending time with your roommates, or on your way out to study; those two will find a way to get to be with you. And, to be honest, it can be a bit overstimulating! 
When there are dates to the movies with Gojo, there’s private alone time with Geto on his bed as he eats you out. And when there are days when Geto holds hands with you and walks you to your classes, there are nights when Gojo will fuck you til his cock is warmed inside you in his slumber. It can go either way, the two competing for your affection and time when the other is out of sight. 
Again, sometimes it’s overwhelming for you, never knowing which of the two will have you all to themselves, nor knowing when you can have time to yourself! And it’s not like you haven’t tried putting your foot down to express your wish to be alone. But, albeit it can be utterly exhausting, you know those two love and cherish you so much that it drives them crazy. Hell, it’s driving you crazy just how much they can’t keep their hands off you! 
Especially now when they drag you to their shared dorm room, experiencing one of those days when the two wish to have you in the same presence. 
“Hahhh, damn, Y/n…you’re sucking me off so good,” Geto purrs with a whistle while lovingly patting your head. “So good for me, huh, sweetie?” 
The two stripped you off your clothes to be nude with them on the bed. Your naked frame straddles above Gojo, lying on his back with his face buried into your bare cunt for his mouth and tongue to please you orally. Meanwhile, you suck on Geto’s girth as he leans on the pillows and headboard. It’s his turn after sucking off Gojo (they settled this over rock-paper-scissors) and fingering you to warm you up first.
You whine of his member, Gojo’s tongue doing wonders on your delicate body. He licks on your clit just as you lap yours around Geto’s glans, and then he’ll suck your pearl right as you take in the tip with pursed cheeks. It’s such a mutual shared experience, with how Gojo’s hands wrap to your thighs to keep your chasm on his lips while you have Geto keen to your mouth and hands stroking him. 
“—Khhhh, Jesus Christ…Hohhh, right there, sweetie…” The raven-haired one coos as you kiss your way down to his balls to suck one as you continue to jerk him. “Heh, you doing good down there, Satoru?”
The snow-haired other removes his mouth from your folds, licking your essence that sticks to his lips like honey mixed with his saliva. “Hahaa, you have no idea. I could stay like this for hours,” his tongue licks your come to your clit tantalizingly slow, evoking you to almost choke on Geto’s girth. “Aww, look at you trying to move from me,” Gojo brings your hips back down to him for him to swirl around your labia, his grip on your thighs refusing to submit. “Don’t go anywhere, princess; I’m not finished until you cum on my face again.”
“Ohhh, shit, keep doing what you’re doing, Satoru,” Geto subtly bucks his hips, “I love the way they’re whining on my dick…”
With your puffy lips being busy in the front and your cunt being lapped and nibbled on from below, your senses are clouded by the two boys who seek nothing but your participation in experiencing pleasure. Your head gradually turns into mush with every rut to your throat and every lap around your clitoris. It’s to no surprise that your release seeps out of your body without preparation, crying on Geto’s length as your frame quivers in euphoric bliss. 
And if you think you couldn’t get swamped enough, think again. 
“—Nnngh, fuck, Y/n, you’re gripping on my dick like crazy…Hehe, is it because you can’t look me in the face? Damn, you’re such a cutie…”
Your face is nuzzled in the crook of Gojo’s neck as you’re straddling on top of him, your nude, sweaty bodies melted together to share heat. Your hips bounce up and down on his pelvis, where his rubber-covered length is scraping the walls of your vagina. His left curve grazes and jabs your sweet spots, and your body lies on top of Gojo, which brings more friction to your clitoris. 
“Hahhh, ahhnn—Ohhhh!” Your phrases have doubled down to that of whimpers of pleasure, thinking straight is impossible, and your mind is too deep in a haze to focus on anything outside of what’s happening. And it’s not like you can’t stop your hips from bouncing on his shaft — you’ve tried! But the moment your legs express so much as reluctance or fatigue, Gojo’s hands are right there on your ass to guide you back into the rhythm. So it’s expected when you climax on him once more, clamping onto him as you ride out another orgasmic wave. “Ahhaaa! Sa’toruuu, stooohhp—hic…! I’m ‘oo sens' tiveee!!” 
“You say that, but—hnnn! You’re rocking those hips of yours on your own, baby.” He chuckles at your slurred speech, placing kisses on your cheek as his hands massage your asscheeks. “Holy shit, you feel so unreal; wanna fuck you raw so bad with how tight you are.” 
“Don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you hear Geto’s voice from behind, the dent of the twin-size bed shifting with his added weight. “If I can’t go condom-less, you’re not getting any special treatment out of it either.”
“Psssh, yeah, yeah,” Gojo says with rolled azure eyes before he whispers to your ear. “Come on, angel, let’s get you prepped up.” The white-haired boy’s hands spread your butt, exposing his dick buried deep into your tight slit and your taint.  
Geto grins salaciously. “My, what a dirty sight for me, my love.” You chew your lips to his words, the heat in your ears causing them to ring. You then feel his fingers smothered in lube to meet your asshole, spiraling around it before inserting them one by one. Your holes instinctively contract, making Gojo hiss. “Relax, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”
You remind your figure to calm down, allowing Geto to play with your anus for it to accommodate the next foreign limb he’ll put inside. Gojo keeps kneading your butt, but he throws furtive thrusts up to your chasm to keep you on your toes. You gasp when Geto removes his digits suddenly, and now you bite your bottom lip at the contact of his cockhead touching your puckered entrance. “Stay calm for me, princess. Gonna go slow just for you…”
Breathing with your mouth is the only way you can function through his insertion; even after he properly lubed himself and the rubber, it never fails to amaze you how you’ve been able to take in his girthy dick times before. Every inch pushed inside you feels as if your breath is pulled away, feeling both your holes become occupied. And your head goes up at the snap of Geto’s pelvis smacking on your ass, mouth agape for drool to sneak down puffy lips. 
“Heh, there you are,” Gojo licks your spit before placing a kiss on your lips. “What a pretty face when you’re going dumb on our dicks, Y/n.”
You couldn’t even reply in modesty because Geto immediately goes pounding your ass with hunger. Your wails come out freely at the pacing of both boys propelling themselves into you. And it doesn’t help that your holes don’t stop contracting on their dicks as they push, the motion making you move your clit against Gojo and having your sore nerves active again. 
“Holy fuck,”Geto drills his cock into your taint, grinding his hips into you to make you whine aloud. He then bends to kiss your sweaty shoulder down to your spine. “You’re so tight, Y/n…like you’re gonna milk me dry.”
Words are exhilarated squeaks and shrills, your arms coming around Gojo’s neck and pressing your hot cheek on his. He snickers at how touchy you are, “Hey, baby,” he coaxes you through the onslaught of ruts that quicken in tempo. “God, you sound so fucking cute, angel…” 
“—Ahhahh…! Ohhh, guysss, pleaseee, slow d—Owwhhnn!!” You cry, eyes watering with the pokes and jabs on your velvety insides, the curve of Gojo scraping you in places you can’t reach, and Geto’s girth having your backside completely stretched for him. It’s all too much to focus on as your delicate bud is pressed on by your weight. “…Nhooo, God, I’m gonna—“
“Gonna cum, cutie?” You nod hurriedly, amusing Gojo for more chuckles. “Let’s cum together, yeah? Such a pretty girl…” And then, Gojo claims your lips for a steamy, passionate kiss, bringing a hand from your bottom to place behind your head to keep you on him. 
“—Hnngh!! Wait, sweetheart, don’t clamp onto me so sudden—Ohh, shit, shit, shiiit,” Black hair strands fall from Geto’s shoulders as he falters at your grip. “Gonna cum, too….Gahhh—“
Your crescendo is the first to appear, howling and mewling into Gojo’s lips while your trembling figure undergoes the shocks of the deep penetration on both ends. The fluttering sensations of your cunt and anus are what prompt the two men to spill their load into you simultaneously, groaning with pleasure from your body. Your head is undoubtedly dizzy, your brain spiraling with impulses as your frame jerks with every wave of your orgasm. 
After his climax is done, Geto slowly withdraws his cock from you. The condom filled with his essence. “Phew, that felt way too good.”
“For real, can’t get enough of this.” Gojo sighs while groping your asscheeks and kissing your forehead. “Ready for another round, baby? C’mon, let’s switch before Suguru gets all crybaby on us.” His sweet tone immediately flips to narrow his eyes at Geto for throwing his used, tied condom at Gojo's face for that comment. “Oh, you disgusting son of a bitch…”
“Shut up and switch, or else I’ll have you watch me pound Y/n for fifteen minutes.”
Being loved and obsessed by the two heartthrobs of the school is no easy work, which is evident when you can’t even get to nap by yourself after the sexual activities. With Gojo spooning Geto while he spoons you, there is no rest with these two; they might as well put collars around their necks and give you their leashes with how smitten they are to be around you.
Yet, at the same time, you don’t hate it — far from that. Because you know their feelings for you are genuine, you can see it in their sleeping faces as they’re probably thinking about you in your dreams as you observe. With a smile, you place kisses on their cheeks and silently leave the bed to use their shower. 
The warm water is just as welcoming and temperate as their love, keeping you safe and washing your anxiousness away. In your thoughts, you reflect on all the times you’ve grown because of them, and it goes to show that their involvement has done substantial help for you. And for that, you are forever grateful for them and will always reciprocate their feelings as you feel the same. 
“Hey, Y/n.”
Well, minus the immediate sense of apprehension that skyrockets once you hear Geto’s voice come behind you. You turn to see his naked self coming towards you to wrap his arms around your waist. “Suguru!? I–I thought you were sleep—“
“I was until you left my arms,” he says to your ear with his dulcet voice, his hands kneading the flesh of your wet hips. “Besides, saves us a lot of time if we share the shower, right?”
“Oh, Y/n~,” another voice enters the bathroom, and your dread plummets even further when Gojo opens the curtains with glee. “Don’t tell me you decided to shower without m—…Oh, you’re here, too.”
“Obviously,” Geto sucks his teeth at his roommate. “I live in this apartment and use this same shower, dumbass.”
Snowy eyebrows crease with irritation as Gojo enters the walk-in shower, sandwiching you between the two. “Well, don’t you think it’s rude for you to use the shower when our guest is using it first?”
“I could be asking you the same thing because who told you to come here?”
“Duh! I’m here to shower with my lover; are you stupid?”
“Are you? Don’t you see a boyfriend is trying to have some alone time with their partner?”
“Oh, eat horse shit.”
“Croak and die.”
You can only stand there and be mushed by the two tall boys arguing over you, unable to flee the scene as they both have their hands on you. Again, you don’t hate it at all. You love them just as much as they love and adore you. They may be the school favorites; however, you are the most precious thing they wish to engage with and want to keep to themselves.
…But would it kill them to give you some room once in a while!?
Jesus, how am I gonna survive with these two…
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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ms-demeanor · 6 months
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I think the eight alarms thing is usually a maladaptation. You've trained your brain to ignore the eight alarms because you kept avoiding the training of willpower following the first alarm would require. I think some sleep therapy might help?
Hey so first of all fuck you, thanks.
Second: I love it when you read literature on sleep disorders, especially if it's on sleep disorders among folks with ADHD, and you see time and time again "when allowed to sleep on their preferred schedule subjects maintained healthy, normal, restorative sleep cycles" and "effects were not lasting without ongoing intervention; resetting the sleep schedule is a permanent effort."
Like, if I sleep *great* from 6am to 2pm and I wake up feeling rested and alert with no special help but I need to turn off the lights in my house and shut down all electronics at 8pm and beam a spotlight into my face starting at 5am to wake up at seven and feel exhausted all day, I think perhaps it is not actually my sleep cycle that is wrong it is perhaps society that is wrong.
BELIEVE ME, when I find the job that pays well and has decent insurance that lets me exist as a cheerful nighttime ghoul I am jumping on that with both feet. But until then I literally feel better getting six hours of sleep and occasionally sleeping so hard that i can't hear my alarms because of chronic sleep deprivation than I do turning off all the lights in my house and ceasing all activity two and a half hours after I get off of work.
Also: the eight alarms aren't all there to wake me up, it's just that sometimes I *also* sleep through the ones that are supposed to remind me to go sit at my desk and start work. One of the first three usually gets me up, but on a day when I sleep through all three of those I will be sleeping through all eight of them and usually a phone call and someone trying to shake me awake to.
ANYWAY after being treated with melatonin and light therapy and staring listlessly at the ceiling in the dark bored out of my skull with racing thoughts for sleep disorders that I didn't have for like twenty years the single most effective intervention that allowed me to get more sleep as someone with both ADHD and DSPD was to start hanging out and being active in places where it would be easy to fall asleep if the sleep caught me there instead of turning my bedroom into a dark, silent shrine of snoozing. Giving myself permission to fall asleep late instead of laying awake chewing myself up with guilt for not being asleep helped too.
Actually here's some tips for the sleepy bitches in the crowd:
1 - If you're laying down and not falling asleep in half an hour, you're not actually sleepy; read something or get up and do something because you're more likely to get sleepy faster that way than you are staring at the clock going "if I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and forty five minutes of rest when I have to go to work; If I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and twenty minutes of sleep when I have to get up, etc. etc."
2 - Allow yourself to be ambushed by sleep. Fall asleep on your cozy couch. Fall asleep in the comfy chair. Let yourself sleep where you fall asleep instead of dragging yourself to where you're 'supposed' to sleep if doing so will wake you up.
3 - The mythbusters thing. If you just lay down and close your eyes and pretend to rest you will feel more rested when you get up than when you laid down. Laying down to rest is better than nothing, it literally causes cognitive improvements similar to sleep in tests, and knowing that can help take off some of the pressure of not being able to fall asleep and can thus help you fall asleep.
4 - It's okay to "hang out" in the area where you're going to sleep. Read in bed. Play games on your cellphone in bed. If you want to go to sleep put on comfy clothes and bring a chill activity and hang out in your bed to do it so that all you have to do when you start getting sleepy is close your eyes.
5 - It's better to get some sleep than no sleep. Sometimes you look at the clock and it's six AM and whoops, fuck it. Okay, time for bed, don't stress that you're only going to get a few hours, a few hours is better than nothing. Lay down to pretend to rest at least and you'll probably feel okay.
6 - This one sounds silly and might not work for a bunch of people for a bunch of reasons but apparently there's some research suggesting that "well-rested" is a state of mind? I've had a reasonable amount of success with just telling myself "Yeah, I actually feel pretty good," and pushing through the day on a couple of hours of sleep. I don't *recommend* that and you should try to get as much sleep as possible, but yeah the next time you're low on sleep see what happens if you just try to decide to not be tired. It sounded like bullshit to me when I first heard it but I've found some success with it.
7 - This shit is cumulative. If you're doing a couple nights a week on low sleep that's not ideal but you're probably going to be pretty functional and you can work on it. If you overbook and overextend yourself for too long - I'm looking at you college students and new parents - it's going to add up. Try as much as possible to at least keep your sleep deficit nights spread out. (This message brought to you by writing 60k words of fiction in october and completely frying my brain because i wasn't getting enough sleep).
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sexlapis · 6 months
Text
[◉°] … NANAMI KENTO & Y/N BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 429k views
⁺ 🧃  ♡ ₊﹒ ⌣
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꩜: actor!nanami x actress!reader
⤷ a short compilation of y/n & nanami moments!
sfw, fluff, accidental kisses, ooc nanami kinda
. art credits to @/osusiudon on twitter
masterlists
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*
౨ৎ first clip
“whereee is nanamiiii?” you whine, filming yourself as you walk around the set, trying to find your favourite cast member. you walk through a door. “nanamiii-oh there he is..”
you look surprised and then you tell the camera, “shhhh..nanami is asleep..”
you tiptoe towards where he lays passed out on a couch with his costume goggles right beside him. you turn the camera around to face nanami, his mouth agape as little snores passed through.
“awwww.. he looks so cute..”
you put the camera close to his face, making nanami look funny. “haha..i’m so keeping this-”
nanami snorts suddenly and shifts in a rapid movement, shocking you and making you drop your phone on his poor face.
“ahh!” you cry. fumbling ensues before you get your camera upright again, pointing it at a now awake, disappointed looking nanami, sitting up on the couch as he stares at you blankly. his hair is messy, tie askew and his eyes tired.
“sorry nanami…did i wake you??”
“…”
“…”
nanami sighs and rubs his eyes. “i don’t know _____. did you barge in here, record me and drop your phone on my face?”
“…oops?”
nanami stares at you some more and then you pat his head in apology.
“sorry, nanamin…”
he sighs again. “why are you like this…”
౨ৎ second clip
the paparazzi secretly filmed you and nanami exiting a store (which they had followed you both to). now of course, fans criticised said paparazzi, but after seeing the video themselves…they couldn’t be all that sad about it.
you and nanami walk out of the automatic doors, arms linked and nanami carries the shopping bag.
you’re eating your little treat, strolling with nanami to the sidewalk when he points to your shoes, noticing that your laces are undone.
he speaks and you just shrug, continuing to eat, uncaring of your unlaced shoes that are a hazard.
nanami has you hold the grocery bag temporarily and then kneels down and ties your laces securely, all the while you chew on your food and smile down at him.
he stands up and takes the bag from you to carry once more. you inaudibly talk before linking arms with him again and resting your head on his shoulder while you both walk away.
౨ৎ third clip
the director yells cut and you are immediately running towards nanami and throwing your arms around his shirtless waist, careful to avoid the very intricate, realistic body paint covering half of his body.
“nanami! please don’t dieeeee!” you cry, looking up at him, “who’s going to be my emotional support actor?”
nanami huffs and pats your back, “_____…i won’t disappear..i’ll still be on the set…”
“it’s not the same!” you grumble into his chest. “it’s like you died for real!”
“no it’s not. i’ll visit everyday until this series ends.”
“really?” you look up at him, eyes glossy, “you better not be lying. promise?”
“yes, i promise.” he sighs fondly.
“okay..”
still hugging him, you turn to look at the camera and blatantly check out his shredded torso and thick, strong arms. nanami just stands there, confused.
you rest your head on one of his pecs, looking at the camera and smiling. “i get to do this everyday, you know.”
nanami scoffs and shakes his head at you. you are unbelievable.
౨ৎ fourth clip
you and the a few members of the cast of jujutsu kaisen had agreed to play a game of “silent library”for charity and nanami had agreed to play too, which shocked both the cast and the fans considering nanami rarely participated in games like this.
nanami has struck luck so far but it runs out on the sixth round.
the cards are handed out and suspense rises when you all quickly flip them over.
you groan out loud before slapping a hand over your mouth when you see that you’ve received the death card.
looking around, you notice that nanami and gojo also share the same card, and you point at them confused, while the members who are safe sigh in relief and thank god.
nanami closes his eyes and gojo slumps in his chair dramatically, making a weak noise in his mouth. you snort. you’re quickly hushed.
the name of the game is presented, “suck and blow”, and poorly stifled chuckles ring around the room. you rub your eyes, already dreading what’s about to come.
gojo eyes you, making a come hither motion with his long finger and swear at him silently. nanami is silent and looks between the two of you blankly.
the aim of the game? all three players must pass plastic card between them with only their lips.
your head falls onto the table, gojo is grinning and nanami is, as always, sighing.
the three of you sit on stools, with yourself insisting on being in the middle.
“i could’ve sworn i’ve had a dream just like this…” gojo whispers and nanami is leaning all the way around to smack the back of his head. gojo gasps and utahime scolds at him to shut his mouth.
the plastic card is given to gojo and the timer begins. he sucks it to his lips, cheeks hollow and he looked very stupid. gojo grabs your head and presses the card to your lips, making it seem like you are both kissing. you grunt and begin smacking the side of his face. suppressed laughter can be heard around you as you forcefully pull away from gojo.
you purse your lips, holding the plastic card on them as best as you can and turning to face nanami. he leans in, ready to get this over with.
it happened so fast.
nanami’s face is close to yours as you move to transfer the plastic card to his lips..and then the card falls.
it falls and you’re kissing nanami for half a second.
you gasp and pull back, embarrassed and covering your face.
you hear a squeal, a loud gasp and shocked laughter as you drown in shame. nanami sits there, fiddling, not knowing what to do with his hands and his face is clearly pink.
gojo teases you both to no end and the timer is already up.
it’s safe to say you all lost that round.
౨ৎ fifth clip
nanami is forced to go on a talk show (as he claims his manager made him do it ).
his responses are perfect and polite - nanami clearly has some sort of media training or an upper class background of some sort. it’s like nothing could catch him off guard whatsoever.
nanami is talking and then, the host interrupts. “are you and _____ dating?”
the audience chuckles and nanami is caught off guard. “wh-what?” nanami breathes out, a blush rising from his neck to his cheeks. “what?”
“are you and _____ dating?”
“no…” nanami clears his throat, gulping, “no of course not…”
“what do you mean “of course not?” do you not like _____?”
“what? of course i like-” nanami cuts himself off with a deep sigh and the crowd laughs at his embarrassment and fluster. “_____…_____ is a lovely woman, she’s a respected colleague, a valued friend, she’s-”
“well since you like her so much, let’s bring her out!” the host flings his arm out in the direction of the entrance stairway, “give a warm welcome to _____!”
“?”
the crowd is screaming as you walk in, waving at them with a warm smile on your face and sit next to nanami.
nanami looks at you, face red. “i-”
“don’t let him stop you.” you say, referring to the host’s interruption and the cheers erupting from the sea of people. “keep talking about me!”
nanami sighs. “shit…”
౨ৎ sixth clip
you’re being interviewed on the red carpet by a boisterous, joyful middle aged lady who asks you many questions, one of them being, “fuck, marry, kill”.
“okay fuck, marry, kill with getou suguru, nanami kento and gojo sa-”
“easy,” you cut in, not even hearing the rest of the question, “fuck getou, marry nanami and kill gojo. easiest question i’ve had so far!”
on the other end of the carpet, nanami is being asked the same questions except with actresses, one of them being you.
“fuck marry kill - utahime iori, _____ or shoko ieiri?!”
“marry _____, fuck utahime and kill shoko. goodnight.” he abruptly walks away, not even waiting for the interviewer to respond and leaves them flabbergasted.
*
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a/n: feel like i rambled a lot in this one..oh well. also i’m not accepting requests for actor!nanami right now🤗🩷
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sourlove · 19 days
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YANDERE JOCK 🏈
TW: OBSESSION, YANDERE THEMES, STALKING, MILD HARASSMENT, IMPLIED MURDER
(FEMALE CHEERLEADER READER)
Yandere! Jock who is convinced that the two of you are dating.
Yandere! Jock who is like a golden retriever but is a freaking beast on the field and absolutely crushes every game because he sees you cheering on the sidelines for him. When asked how he gets his wins, he says, "My girl is watching. Can't let her down."
Yandere! Jock who blows you kisses and waves even when you ignore him. He just loves you so much and is so happy when he spots you. Sure you might not always respond but the just means he has to try harder next time.
Yandere! Jock who doesn't care when you tell him to leave you alone. You're probably just in a bad mood but it's okay! He'll make you feel better!
Yandere! Jock who has the school also convinced that you guys are dating. He follows you around like a puppy and he always calls you 'my girl' so people naturally assumed you were together. Whenever you try to squash the rumors, he amps it up again.
Yandere! Jock who loves when people think you're together. He begs asks you to wear his letterman jacket so you have his name on you. He literally lights up if you wear it because it's cold or you want him to stop pestering you.
Yandere! Jock who only messes up during games when he stops to watch your cheer routine. If you're on top of a pyramid or some other dangerous stunt, he's rushing off the field to catch you. The football coach has since banned you from participating in any stunts.
Yandere! Jock who is glued to you so much that you slowly start to get used to his presence. He takes advantage of your indifference and tries to do more stuff to get you to acknowledge him. He carries your stuff, buys you lunch, drives you home and even walks you home when you don't want to enter his car. Sure, you don't exactly know he's walking with you but he's just looking out for his best girl!
Yandere! Jock who is so eager to see you, sometimes, that he's waiting outside your door first thing in the morning. What you don't know is that he's been there all night, staring at your window and waiting for you to wake up.
Yandere! Jock who bribes the cheerleaders to wingman for him. All of a sudden, your team is telling you what a sweetheart he is and how you guys look so great together. With all these people on his side, you have to give in sooner or later, right?
Yandere! Jock who finally asks you to be his girlfriend officially and is over the moon when you agree. If you thought he was clingy before, just wait. He's started leaving his things around for you to wear or carry like he's staking his claim on you. You have to explain the concept of personal space and alone time to him but he just stares at you in confusion. Why would you not want to be around him all the time? He loves being around you!
Yandere! Jock who runs up after every game to hug you, despite your protests because he's so sweaty. It's like a dog being so excited they just jump on you and lick all over you. His teammates have to drag him away to his dismay. He just wanted to give you a little kiss, why's everyone keeping you from him?
Yandere! Jock who let's you take charge, in and outside of the bedroom. Boy's just happy to be there.
Yandere! Jock who is clingy even in his sleep. He likes to lay on top of you so you can't slip away and leave him all alone. He's huge so it's like sleeping under a giant space heater. If it's too hot to cuddle, he pouts and whines when you tell him not to touch you at all. He still finds a way though, and sometimes you wake up to him holding your hand from across the pillow wall.
Yandere! Jock who is actually pretty harmless. He's like a giant puppy and isn't violent with the people around you. All he wants is your love and attention 24/7 and everyone is pretty much used to his antics to know where the line is drawn. That is, until a new person comes to school and starts making moves on you.
Yandere! Jock who is usually very friendly but is cold with only them and refusing to leave your side when they're near you.
Yandere! Jock who is in a great mood when they suddenly disappear without a trace.
FIND ALL OTHER PARTS + MY OTHER WORKS HERE
A/N: Please leave a like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed this! I personally this character he's adorable. If you want any headcanons or special requests, leave an ask too :)
@justabratsworld @pinkrose1422 (i feel like you'll like this oc lol)
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roosterr · 4 months
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if ur requests are open, could we have like 141 falling asleep on the reader??? like different scenarios for each of them like price falls asleep accidentally and so does ghost while gaz and soap are like cuddling or laying on the reader :) i love ur writing so much <333
the 141 falls asleep on you
wc: 2.1k
hello!!! been struggling to love my writing for like the last month so i really hope you enjoy, and i'm sorry in advance lol its mostly fluffy but i just couldn't help myself with a lil bit of angst :)
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price
✹ when you hear the front door open in the middle of the night – or, technically, early morning – the first thought your sleep-addled mind comes up with is that you're being robbed.
✹ with your heart in your throat, you sit up in bed and stare wide-eyed at the bedroom door, but your fear is short lived when a dull thud meets your ears, followed by a familiar curse that has you breathing a sigh of relief.
✹ your husband, coming home at last from a night of drinking with the other members of the taskforce, presumably stubbing his toe on the sofa that hasn't moved an inch since you put it there all those years ago.
✹ with a deep yawn, you get back under the covers and let your eyes fall shut again, the knowledge that it was john downstairs and not a burglar putting your racing heart to rest.
✹ you don't react when he clumsily slips through the door, fighting the laugh that threatens to give you away when you hear him swear under his breath after bumping into yet another piece of furniture.
✹ the cold air sends goosebumps rippling across your skin when he lifts the covers to clamber in beside you, but the chill is quickly chased away by his hands bringing you into his chest and his enveloping warmth.
✹ "and what time do you call this?" you tease in a whisper, opening your eyes to see his guilty ones looking back at you. the slight flush in his cheeks and his half-lidded gaze gives him a boyish charm that you can't even pretend to be mad at.
✹ "sorry darlin', didn't mean to wake you..." he murmurs in return, a sheepish smile pulling at one side of his lips.
✹ "well, i'm glad you had a good time," you punctuate your reply by placing a light kiss on the bridge of his nose, which prompts his smile to grow wider as he hugs your body to his own.
✹ "i'm havin' a better time now, love." he ghosts his lips over yours as he whispers, earning another tiny chuckle from you, his fingers tracing patterns into the skin of your back under your shirt.
✹ you can smell the whisky on his breath as he leans even further into you, and taste it when he closes the distance to devour your lips in a passionate, if slightly messy, kiss.
✹ he sighs into your mouth, his lips falling from yours when he rolls you onto your back to lay his head on your chest, and like a switch, he's dead asleep.
✹ "john?" you whisper, in a sort of disbelief that he was actually asleep just like that, but he doesn't even flinch when you gently poke his cheek. "oh my god…"
✹ once the morning rolls around, you both share a laugh about his drunken state from the night before, and he makes you promise not to tell the boys he passed out in the middle of kissing you.
✹ you just laugh and file it away for future blackmail.
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gaz
✹ the two of you were watching a movie late one night, the first time you've had time to yourselves in months thanks to the never-ending workload you both seem to be under.
✹ the dim mood lighting of your flat combined with the comforting feeling of finally being alone with kyle is nearly enough to send you to sleep already, but your want to spent time with him keeps you awake.
✹ kyle watches you stifle a yawn as he presses play on the movie, and tugs you to lean against him with an arm around your shoulders and a teasing grin. "promise you won't fall asleep this time?"
✹ you look up to him from where your head rests against his collar and huff, a smile of your own playing on your lips as you nudge him lightly with your elbow. "maybe i should be the one asking that."
✹ the bags under his eyes leave no question about how tired he really is, but he was the one that insisted the two of you spend time together tonight, despite the exhaustion you knew he was hiding.
✹ "and leave you all by yourself?" he chuckles, "never, love."
✹ a comfortable quiet settles over you while you watch the movie together; kyle's choice, something action-y you've never seen before, but you know he's seen it a million times. he occasionally adds commentary to make you laugh which he, naturally, manages to do every time.
✹ as the movie plays, you gradually migrate to laying on the sofa on your back with kyle between your legs and his head on your sternum. you absentmindedly run your nails over his scalp, gently massaging his head while he hugs your waist.
✹ it's about two-thirds of the way through the movie that you realise kyle hasn't said anything in a while. you pause your ministrations, smoothing over his curls as you turn your gaze from the screen to where he lays on top of you.
✹ a soft smile lights up your face when your eyes land on his blissfully relaxed features, sound asleep and breathing in time with the steady rise and fall of your chest.
✹ you continue to watch the movie in silence, occasionally petting kyle's hair when he grumbles in his sleep. he deserves the rest, you muse, and something about how peaceful he looks means you can't even entertain the idea of disturbing him. and you would definitely tease him that he fell asleep like he said he wouldn't.
✹ even once the movie has finished, and your back has started to ache from the position against the armrest, you still don't dare wake him. tomorrow was an off day for both of you, so there was no need to go anywhere – as if you would ever want to, intertwined with your boyfriend and surrounded by his warmth.
✹ you close your eyes, give him one last squeeze, and whisper into the silence, "sweet dreams, kyle."
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soap
✹ it wasn't supposed to happen like this.
✹ everything was supposed to go smoothly, you'd get what you came for, and you'd be home in time for dinner.
✹ but it hadn't happened like that  of course it didn't. you were on your way out, with johnny by your side, when a sudden noise from behind you caught your attention.
✹ you spin around to see a dishevelled soldier aiming their gun at you, but you noticed just a second too late. you can do little more than watch as they pull the trigger, a sick sense of horror travelling up your spine as time seems to slow down.
✹ there's a split second where you brace to feel the bullet lodge somewhere in your body, but that impact never comes.
✹ with a speed you didn't know he possessed, johnny tackles you to the ground and out of the path of the bullet, landing on top of you and pushing the air from your lungs.
✹ you lay winded underneath him, the sound of him returning fire vaguely reaching your ears but it takes a second for your mind to catch up.
✹ it’s quiet by the time you come back to your senses, johnny already pulling you to stand with a strained grunt.
✹ "johnny?" you frown, taking note of how he favours one side when he urges you to start walking again, "you okay?"
✹ "fine, darlin’, let’s just–" he winces, stumbling ever so slightly and trying to play it off by pushing you in front of him, "let’s just get home, aye?"
✹ your frown deepens. you turn around and stop him with your hands on his shoulders, and it's then that you notice how laboured his breathing has become.
✹ "you're not fine, soap!" your heart sinks as you watch the patches of blood on his leg grow steadily darker, "why didn't you tell me you were hit?"
✹ he doesn't flinch at the anger in your voice, or when you haul his arm over your shoulder and resume dragging him the rest of the way to the helo. he mumbles incoherent that sounds like an apology, but your only focus is getting him to safety and stopping the bleeding.
✹ the others are already waiting for you as the exfil site comes into view, and the moment they spot you shouldering johnny's weight they spring into action to help you.
✹ johnny is dragged up the ramp and made to lay on the floor as gaz and ghost make short work of packing the bullet wound in his thigh with gauze.
✹ you lift his shoulders and head to rest in your lap, grimacing at the pained groans he lets out when ghost puts his weight on the wound.
✹ "why didn't you tell me?" you utter, tilting his head back with your hands on his cheeks and meeting his distant gaze with your brows knitted together in concern.
✹ he musters a weak smile and lets his eyes flutter shut, the muscles in his face visibly relax. "i’m fine… ‘slong as yer okay, bonnie…"
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ghost
✹ sometimes you wondered if ghost ever slept.
✹ he would always volunteer himself for the first watch, and he was up before you without fail every morning. on base he always seemed to be in the gym before everyone, and in his office after everyone else has left. he was frustratingly elusive.
✹ it worried you, that perhaps he had trouble sleeping. it made sense, however saddening, that someone like him wouldn't sleep well, but it was even worse that he brushed off your concern for him with practised ease.
✹ he made sure to take care of others, but wouldn't let you try and do the same for him. perhaps he thought you were joking, or that you were only being courteous, but your mind always goes back to one thing; the theory that, for some people, it's only possible for them to fall asleep when they feel safe.
✹ you wanted to be that for him, like he was for you.
✹ you do your best to forget about your rejected concerns for him, and the thought all but slips your mind until a mission two months later.
✹ it was long, drawn-out, and gruelling, and all you wanted to do was get home and have a shower hot enough to melt your skin. it had been almost a week since you've had a moment to catch your breath, and you were more than thankful to be on the way home.
✹ even if that meant being squashed into the back of an suv with soap passed out on your left and ghost on your right. gaz called shotgun and wouldn't give it up for anything, so here you were, shoulder to shoulder with the lieutenant you may or may not harbour feelings for.
✹ the five of you have been on the road for a couple of hours now. the conversation has died down by now and and the quiet hum of the radio was the only sound, besides soap's intermittent snores.
✹ you're on the verge of passing out yourself when a weight drops onto your shoulder, and you have to fight yourself not to jump with the start it gives you.
✹ your tired eyes look to the source and to your utter surprise, they find the dark fabric of ghost's balaclava resting against you, and when you tilt your head you can see the blond of his eyelashes against his cheeks.
✹ the sight brings a smile to your face. as subtle as possible, you shift as much as the limited space of the backseat will allow so his neck isn't bent at such an awkward angle.
✹ he fell asleep on you. perhaps it was just because of the exhaustion this mission left him with, but you like to think back on your theory from weeks ago as you admire the restful expression he wears.
✹ your stop fighting your own exhaustion and let your eyes fall shut, and with your last thread of consciousness you file this memory away for later, and hope that it really does mean that he feels safe with you.
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kaaaaaaarf · 6 months
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So I watched that episode of Our Flag Means Death where Ed finds the bunny and thinks it's a wolf and thought, what if Remus was a wererabbit and Sirius had no idea? Anyways, have a drabble.
Here I Am (a rabbit-hearted boy)
Hogwarts Era. 654 words. Wererabbit Remus. G.
Remus' floppy ears twitch unhappily. He had been so careful—so careful not to let his friends see the monster he becomes every full moon. He thought he was sneaky, when he made his way out of the castle before dinner—after the other boys had already left for the Great Hall, but here is Sirius, standing above him with wide eyes. He'd seen the whole thing, the whole transformation—running into the clearing before Remus could even shout at him to stop. Before his body bent and twisted violently into a monster.  Remus' tiny body shakes in fear. Finally, after an impossibly long moment, Sirius seems to come back to himself. "R—Remus? Are you—you're a werewolf?"  …I'm a what now? 
"I thought maybe you were upset about Snape ruining your Potions final when you didn’t follow us down to dinner, so I came back to find you and saw you sneak out of the castle. I decided to  follow you, but I didn't think...Oh my God. You're so...so...cute."  Remus' nose twitches in a way that he thinks sufficiently expresses his shock and distaste. He’s not cute. He’s fearsome! An abomination! Sirius, unafraid, crouches down and strokes a gentle hand over the tawny fur on his back.  Okay, well Remus doesn't hate that.  Sirius scratches behind one floppy ear, and it makes Remus’ back foot twitch. Sirius smiles. "Are you a friend, wolf? Merlin, wait til I tell James about this! Our Moony—a real bloody werewolf!" and then as quickly as he’d appeared, he's gone, running off back toward the castle. It's just as well, Remus is dangerous like this. As much as he would love some company on the moons, one bite is all it would take and he could turn Sirius, too. He couldn't live with himself. Remus has just finished snacking on some grass, and is just about to hop into the underbrush to play chase with the rabbits of the Forest, when Sirius comes running back, this time with James in tow. Great. "See James! That's Remus, he's a werewolf!"  James, who is bent over trying to catch his breath, looks up at him like he's stupid. "That's a rabbit, Sirius." "No...I saw him transform—that’s Remus. He's a werewolf." "At best that's a wererabbit." He looks down at Remus, his face twisted in thought. "Sorry Remus, just a sec. Sirius—" he looks back up at the other boy, pinching the bridge of his nose. “—have you ever actually seen a rabbit before?" "Well, not precisely...Grimmauld is in the middle of London, not exactly teeming with rabbits and the like." "Babbity Rabbity? Surely you've read Babbity Rabbity at least." "I'm pretty sure Babbity Rabbity would never make it into the Black family library. Not macabre enough." James sighs. "Okay well, I’m telling you that's a rabbit." James points down at him, and Remus twitches his nose, hoping it conveys how tired he is.  Sirius stomps his feet, insistent. “But his last name is Lupin, not Lapin! He's Wolfie McWolf, not Bunny McRabbit!” “I’m pretty sure his name has nothing to do with which were-animal decided to take a chunk out of him, Sirius!” Remus tries to hop away while they’re fighting, but Sirius spots him and scoops him up into his arms. “Oh no you don’t! Come on Remus, I’ll sneak you back into the castle—get you something to munch on. What do rabbits eat, anyway? Hay? Flowers?”  Human flesh.  “They eat grass and, like, carrots. Good call though, better get him inside before an actual wolf spots him. Come on, Remus.” And that’s how Remus finds himself, a few hours later, in a soft bed, snuggled under the covers with Sirius’ hand gently resting on his furry back. He supposes being found out isn’t so bad, and if he wakes up in the morning—human again, Sirius spooning against his back, he thinks that might actually be even better.
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xxsunoosprincess · 2 months
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hi, can i reqs enha reaction to waking up with their back all scratched up after a long night with their s/o?
back to my regularly scheduled content 😋 absolutely delicious request
Enhypen’s reaction to seeing the marks you left on their back. (OT6)
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pairings: enhypen legal line x reader
warnings, 18+, minors DNI, mentions of sex, handjobs, and marking
Heeseung
Shy baby…. doesn’t tell you because he doesn’t want you to feel bad (and also secretly wants you to do it again). When you wake up he is fully dressed and sitting in bed, back facing away from you which is weird. He’s never awake this early and is he watching you sleep?? Can’t pry what’s wrong out of him so you end up wrestling him down and flipping up his shirt, exposing the marks (and making his cock throb). Repeated tells you it’s not a big deal but walks around with his shirt tucked in like a dork just in case anyone else tries to pull a fast one on him.
Jay
Loves that shit. Type of boyfie that sends you $200 to get your nails done all pretty. Taking care of you is his top priority!! Plus, he loves the way a nice manicure looks when you have your hands wrapped around his cock. He can also feel the scratch marks you leave down his back that much better with a nice set of acrylics. When he catches sight of them in the morning, you will have another “investment” sitting in your bank account immediately.
Jake
Shakes you awake after he takes a shower and the body wash packs an extra sting. Once he has you up and sufficiently panicked… “It’s important, wake up!!” Is not the most delicate way to wake up your partner… he pulls off his shirt and flips over to show you the damage. Thinks he has a rash at first, but it doesn’t take much to deduce what the red lines running down his back are from. Once you tell him, he switches to “Look what you did to me! You wild animal!” all whiny and rosey cheeked. Makes you kiss it better.
Sunghoon
Likes it and makes sure everyone knows about it. “Oh these? Y/n was over last night” cue groans from the other members. After that they stop asking but he makes sure they are visible. Will probably even ask you to do it again and leave marks along his shirt line so they “accidentally” show. And when you do, he makes sure to reward you with an extra nice pounding that night <3
Sunoo
Sweet blushing baby!! He sees it in the mirror while doing his morning skincare and shrieks. It obviously attracts the attention of everyone in the dorm, but he runs back to his room with his shirt clutched to his chest and back pressed against the wall. He finally slips into the room and sees you sitting up in bed, clearly just awoken by the chaos happening behind the door. Jeers of “damn Sunoo I didn’t know you were a freak like that!” from Jake as he turns around to show you what all the commotion was about sends you into your own fit of laughter.
Jungwon
The first time it happened he didn’t even notice. Goes about his day until he is at dance practice and is getting sweaty so he takes his shirt off. Sunoo’s scandalized gasp is all he heard before a shirt is thrown at his face with a hissed “are you crazy? what if the managers see?”. Oops. Not so secretly happy about it. Now he walks around the dorms shirtless after a romp with you in the sheets just so he can show off a bit.
END.
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a/n: short lil thang to get back into the swing of things after everything that went down today. Good lord… thinking about getting two requests out tonight to make up for deleting last nights :( also reminder that requests are open for 100 follower event!! anyways, hope you enjoy! xx - princess
taglist: @sunoofairyofsass @cha0thicpisces (fill out form or dm to be added)
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theostrophywife · 9 months
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focus on me.
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pairing: mattheo riddle x reader request: I NEED MATHEO OR THEODORE X FEM READER AND SHE JUST LOVES HIS HANDS AND ARM VIENS AND SHE WALKS INTO HIS DORM AND IS GOBSMAKED TO SEE HIS ABS AND SHE WANTS TO RIDE THEM AND SHES JUST SO OBSESSED AND THINKS HES THE HOTTEST MAN IN THE PLANET- AND SHE FOLDS LIKE A PRETZEL WHEN HE GIVES HER THOSE EYES- JESUS IM A CATHOLIC BUT THEO AND MATTHEO COULD BE MY NEW RELIGION- author's note: big thanks to @writingsbychlo for listening to me rant about this man in her inbox. posting this now so she can wake up to her mans. the way that i would fold for mattheo so fast (theo look away). anyways, enjoy this purely smutty fic 😮‍💨
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You were supposed to be studying. 
When you came into his dorm, you specifically told Mattheo not to interrupt you under any circumstances. Usually, you preferred the library but some prat had accidentally set off a dung bomb, which meant closure until further notice. 
You tried studying in your dorm, but your fellow housemates decided that there was no better time to throw a back to school bash in the common room than the night before your Ancient Runes exam. Harry and Ron, who shared the same class, appeared completely unbothered as they chugged firewhisky straight from the bottle. 
Your roommate Hermione was long gone. Probably holed up somewhere in the dungeons with Draco. You followed your friend’s cue and snuck into your boyfriend’s dorm, narrowly avoiding Filch. It never seemed fair that the Slytherins got individual rooms, but tonight you had never been more thankful for it. 
Mattheo had set up a whole battle station for you on his desk. There were fresh ink pots, newly sharpened quills, and blank parchment waiting for you when you arrived. After kissing your sweet and considerate boyfriend, you went straight to work. 
By the time midnight struck, the parchment was filled with glowing runes, making your ink stained hands cramp from drawing out the symbols over and over again. To Mattheo’s credit, he kept to himself and read quietly on his bed while you studied. 
You were so engrossed in the material that you barely registered him kissing you on the cheek before leaving to take a shower. That little mistake cost you because as soon as he walked back into his dorm with nothing but a towel on, you nearly spilled fresh ink all over yourself. 
Water trickled down Mattheo’s chest, the little droplets snaking through his perfectly chiseled abs only to disappear beyond his v lines, which pointed like an arrow to what you knew was hiding underneath that towel. 
The fabric hung dangerously low on his hips as he walked over to his dresser to pick out something to wear. You watched with rapt attention as he braced himself against the wood, those delicious, juicy veins protruding from his forearms and nearly making you dizzy with desire. 
Finally, Mattheo turned. The silence had caught his attention and he smirked when he saw you ogling him. 
“See something you like, pretty girl?”
You flushed. “Just got a little distracted.”
Mattheo’s grin grew. He sauntered over to you, leaning over so that he had you caged against the desk. 
“Oh?” he asked, his voice low and husky and absolutely fucking sexy. “Maybe it’s time for a break then. You’ve been such a good girl studying so hard all night. I think you deserve a reward, my love.” 
Your breath hitched as Mattheo’s lips grazed yours. He tilted your chin up, giving you a perfect view of those brown eyes. Then he gave you the look and you knew you were done for. 
It was a look that said he wanted to devour every inch of you until you couldn’t even recall your own name. You gave in. Of course you gave in. How could you not?
“Maybe for a second…”
Mattheo took the opening. One arm snaked around your waist, bringing you up with him as he pressed you against the desk. His other arm crept up your back until he reached the nape of your neck, fisting your hair through his fingers as he kissed you roughly. 
“Do you even know how fucking sexy you are, princess? My smart schoolgirl in her tiny little skirt.” 
Mattheo carefully moved your studying materials aside before picking you up and setting you down on the table. He gripped the top of your thighs and brought you to the edge while sliding his tongue against yours. You whimpered as he grinded against you, showing you exactly how hard he was underneath the towel.
“Been thinking about bending you over this table all night,” Mattheo whispered in your ear. His hand climbed higher up your thigh and you felt your body instantly respond to his touch. “Bet you’re soaking wet for me already, aren’t you angel?”
You moaned as he toyed with the waistband of your panties. “Matty, please.” 
Your boyfriend smiled at your nickname for him, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. “What is it that you want, darling?”
“Touch me. Please.” 
Mattheo smirked as he tugged your panties off. His lust filled gaze drank you in as he dragged two fingers through your slick folds. 
“Fuck. You’re so wet. Is this all for me, princess?”
“Mhm,” you mumbled, nipping at his neck. “It’s not fair. You play dirty, Matty. You can’t just walk in here with nothing but a towel on.” 
“Why not, angel?”
You sighed, tracing the hard planes of his chest. His muscles flexed under your fingertips as you gently raked your nails against his six pack. “Because you’re sexy and I can’t help myself.” 
Mattheo chuckled darkly, plunging two fingers in your pussy. You bucked against his hand, watching in stunned silence as he withdrew it only to stick his middle and pointer finger into his mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted you on him. 
“This is exactly what I mean,” you whined. “For Godric’s fucking sake, how am I supposed to concentrate after that?”
“Maybe we can compromise, angel.” He shuffled through your parchments and stuck one to the wall. “I’m going to trace the runes inside of you and if you get them all right, then I’ll give you your reward.”
You swallowed thickly and nodded. Mattheo grinned before giving you a quick peck. “Pay attention, sweetheart.” 
His fingers dipped through your folds once more and you gripped his arm, fighting the moan from escaping your lips. Mattheo curled his fingers inside of you, drawing a familiar shape. 
“Urus,” you said in a breathy voice. “It means strength.”
“That’s right, angel.” He shifted as you ran your hands down his arms. You could feel his veins throbbing underneath your palm as he fingered you. “Don’t get distracted now. I know how much you love my hands. I promise they’ll be wrapped around your throat by the end of the night if you get all these right. Now focus.”
You nodded, eyes fluttering close as he traced another rune. “Algiz,” you answered. “For protection.” 
“Hot and smart,” Mattheo announced proudly. “How’d I get so lucky?”
His lips grazed yours and you willingly parted for him, fluttering around his fingers as his tongue slid into your mouth. He pumped his digits inside of you, teasing and taunting. 
“Let’s try something harder, princess.” 
Mattheo’s skillful fingers prodded against your walls, sketching a complicated shape. You closed your eyes and focused. It was a tricky one, but you remembered the cris cross pattern. 
“Inguz,” you said decidedly. “Fertility.” 
“That’s right,” Mattheo said with a smile. “You're doing so well, sweetheart. One more and you can have anything you want.” 
“Anything?” you asked with a small smile.
“Whatever that devious little mind of yours desires, my love.” 
“Okay,” you replied. “I’m ready, then.”
Your boyfriend nodded, staring right into your eyes as he marked the last and final rune. It was an effort not to get lost in those warm, brown eyes. But you steeled yourself, determined to claim your prize.
“Rerth. For luck.”
“Good girl,” Mattheo said with a smirk. “Fitting since you’re getting lucky tonight, angel. Where should we start?” 
You bit your lip, cocking your head at him. It was nearly an impossible choice. You wanted to kiss him. Bite him. Lick him. All of the above and more. 
But there was one thing that stood out from all the other deliciously sinful choices. You pressed your palm against his abs and grinned. 
“I want to ride your abs.”
Mattheo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected it, but fuck he was so down. He would’ve given you anything with the way you were looking at him right now. 
“You never fail to surprise me,” he said fondly. “Well come on then, let’s make your filthy little fantasy a reality.” 
In one smooth move, he lifted you off the table and deposited you on top of his bed. Mattheo reclined against the headboard and watched with hungry eyes as you straddled his stomach. He smiled as you slipped the tie off your neck and looped it around him. 
It was a simple move, but so fucking sexy and possessive at the same time. You were claiming him. Mattheo was yours and you were his. You belonged to one another—mind, body, and soul. 
Mattheo trailed kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks on your skin as his deft fingers made quick work of the first few buttons on your blouse. He leaned back and admired his work, his hands gripping your hips while you grinded your soaking wet sex against his muscles. 
He didn’t think it would feel this good. There was something about you using his body to get yourself off that fucking turned him on like no other. Mattheo lifted your skirt up, fisting the fabric in his hands and watching as you coated him with your arousal. 
The little whimpers you were making sounded like music to his ears. “My good little slut,” he said, squeezing your tits as you rode him with reckless abandon. “You’re so fucking filthy, baby. Using me to get yourself off. I’m just your fuck toy aren’t I princess?”
“So good,” you murmured. “You feel so good, Matty.”
The desperation in your voice set him off. He gripped your hips hard enough to bruise and bucked forward, smirking in satisfaction when you moaned. The ridges of his abs rubbed against your clit, providing the perfect amount of pressure to the sensitive area. 
“Keep riding me,” he said in a low, rough voice. “Just like that, angel. Such a good girl for me.”
You closed your eyes, lost to the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Mattheo gripped your chin, his voice rough around the edges as he spoke. “Open your eyes, darling. I want to watch you cum.”
His rich brown eyes pinned you in place, drinking in every detail. That sexy smirk curved against his lips as he hooked his arms behind his head, admiring the view of his girl riding him. 
“Look at you, baby. You’re making such a fucking mess. Such an innocent face, but you turn into a filthy whore when you’re with me.” 
“Only for you, Mattheo.” 
“Damn fucking right,” he said, sliding his hands under your skirt to rub at your clit. 
You bucked against him, riding out the high. Heat exploded in your core and seeped into your veins. Mattheo kissed you roughly, staking his claim on you as he devoured your moans. 
“That’s it, princess. Cum for me, pretty girl.”
The orgasm felt like a lightning strike. It hit you all at once, making your walls spasm as you came all over Mattheo’s abs. He cursed when he felt you soaking him through, utterly turned on by the mess that you’ve made. Mattheo had never been harder in his life. 
Your boyfriend peppered kisses on your face, pulling you taut to him as you came down from the high. Mattheo brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, tilting your chin up so he could press his lips against yours. He groaned and held your hips down, grinding his boner against your ass. 
“I’m not done making you cum, princess. You’ve got one more in you, don’t you angel?” 
As sensitive as you were, your pussy throbbed at his words. When it came to Mattheo, you could never really get enough. 
“I thought I only got one reward. You’re spoiling me, Matty.” 
“There’s no question about it. You’re my spoiled rotten little princess. But this reward isn’t for you, it’s for me.” He smacked your ass, gesturing for you to get up. “Now come on, angel. I was serious about that desk.” 
He smirked as he walked you back to his desk, his hands disappearing underneath your skirt as he massaged your ass. Mattheo kissed you roughly before he flipped you over, bending you on the desk so you were face down and ass up. He flipped your skirt up, hissing when he found you soaking wet again.
“You just can’t help yourself can you, princess?” He pumped himself in his hand before sliding the tip of his cock along your folds. “Gods, you’re fucking wet. Are you ready, baby?” 
You whimpered, rocking your hips against him for more friction. Mattheo held you in place, fisting your hair in his hands. 
“Use your words, darling. I want to hear you beg like the good little slut that you are.” 
“Please, Matty,” you whined. “I need you so badly that it hurts.” 
He kissed the base of your spine, grinning as he eased his length inside of you. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, you gripped the edges of the table as Mattheo buried his cock within your walls. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but he kept you upright, cursing when he felt how wet and tight you were. 
“Fuck,” he grunted as he thrust into you slowly. Mattheo gripped you from behind, picking up the pace. Your pussy clenched around him like a vice. “Gods, pussy’s so good baby. You’re doing so well. Taking all of me like my perfect little whore.” 
Mattheo fucking adored the way you blushed at his filthy words. He leaned over, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as he fucked you into the table. He thought he was going to pass the fuck out when you grinded back into him, meeting his movements to take more and more of him. Mattheo leaned over and shielded your head from the wall, making sure you were protected as the table shook underneath you. 
The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your breathy little moans was enough to send him over the edge, but he wanted to make good on his promise. Mattheo always put his girl first. The boys were right. He might be just a little bit pussy whipped. 
Even without the sex, you could’ve asked Mattheo to kill for you and he would’ve done so without question. 
“I fucking love you, darling. I’d kill for you. I’d die for you,” he said, every word laced with conviction. “Forever and always.” 
“I love you too, Matty. Forever and always.” 
He kissed your cheek, the action surprisingly soft compared to how rough the sex was. You felt like you could’ve melted onto the floor. 
“Cum with me, my love.” 
Mattheo wrapped his arms around you as that familiar heat spread burned in your core. He held you as the orgasm rocked through your body, sharing in the euphoric high while the two of you finished together. His grip around you only tightened, hugging you from behind while he slowly pulled out. You were barely keeping upright as it was, your legs threatening to give out under you. 
Without a word, your boyfriend scooped you into his arms and brought you back to bed. He cradled you against him, whispering praises and encouragement while stroking your hair. 
“You did so well, baby. I’m so proud of you for remembering all those runes. You’re gonna ace your exam tomorrow.” 
“You really think so, Matty?” You snuggled against him, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Mattheo stroked your back and placed a kiss on your temple. 
“I know so, darling. You have no idea how proud I am for having such a smart girlfriend. I love bragging about you to our friends.” 
You flushed. “Well, I couldn’t have done it all on my own. I had some help from my smart, sweet, and sexy study partner.
Mattheo grinned and kissed you gently. “Glad to be of service, my love.” 
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taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468
please let me know if you'd like to be added.
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lovifie · 1 month
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Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️
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Please don't look too much into the plot holes. Canon can suck my ass, I'm making my own, xoxo 💋
Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.
Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of death, mentions of guns, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), Spoilers → amnesia, smut, voyeurism
“THE TUNNEL IT'S COLLAPSING! FOLLOW MAKAROV! I'LL TAKE JOHNNY OUT!”
That was the last thing Ghost heard of you.
It's been months since Johnny and you were declared KIA on that mission. 
You weren't even meant to be inside, you were the medic, you were supposed to wait outside. 
But the moment Makarov shot Johnny he panicked.
Ghost panicked.
And Simon panicked.
You came in running, panting for the effort of carrying with you the medical bag half your size. 
You were the one who told them to run. To go after Makarov and kill him. 
You were trying to wake up Johnny, Ghost knew it was a lost cause. He couldn't find the pulse, he was gone.
His Johnny was gone.
The last thing he expected was that he was about to lose you too.
Once outside, he kept looking at the tunnel. Waiting for you to come out, whether it was dragging Johnny's body or alone; it didn't matter. You needed to get out.
But after the tunnel collapsed and you didn't get out, it was Price who finally pushed Ghost away.
He barely remembers getting back to base, doesn't remember what Price kept telling him on the helicopter, doesn't remember skipping meals for days, doesn't remember crying himself to sleep for weeks.
But he remembers your face, he remembers Johnny's face.
Oh, what a coward he was. 
Two people that he loved, that found their way under his skin right into his heart. Two people that Simon wanted to grow old next to, two people that made Simon want to wake up every morning. 
And he was still not brave enough to confess his feelings to neither of them.
He used to stay awake late at night dreaming about how he would do it. After a long time of debating with himself, figuring out what those feelings inside of him were.
Until he figured out it was love, only to them have to face the complex situation of loving two people at the same time.
But even how complicated of a man Simon Riley was, when it comes to his wants it all turns simpler. If on the menu there are two dishes that he likes? He is getting both, obviously. Why choose?
So if all his lonely and twisted life he had never loved anyone, now he suddenly fell in love with two people. He wasn't going to give up one of them and their love just for society's norms.
Murder is also against society’s norms, and he gets paid for it. 
But it was too late now.
Maybe it was for the better.
He could lie to himself, agree that he never confessed because it was not his destiny. 
Not because they would have not loved him back. 
Not because they would have been scared of him.
Not because they wouldn't have been able to see past his mask. 
Not because they would have rather dated each other than him.
It's easier like this.
Simon knows how to mourn a loved one. 
What he doesn't know is, how it's possible he got a message from you this morning when you died four months ago.
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You are stepping out of the shower, skin warm from the water and baby hairs sticking to your forehead; when someone knocks on the bathroom door.
You furrow your eyebrows at how hard they knock, the whole door shaking with it.
“Calm down, I'm almost finished.” You grumble, pulling the towel around your body. 
You drag your feet over the towel on the floor to walk closer, and open the door annoyed by the insistent knocking.
“I told you I am almost finish-” Your words are cut off by the barrel of a gun right on your face.
You don't even have time to panic, because you immediately recognise the stupid skeleton gloves holding the gun.
“Simon?” You whisper,scared that if you talk any louder he will disappear. Price and Gaz are behind him, slowly lowering their gun when they see it's you.
There is a glistering layer over Ghost's eyes that if you didn't known any better you'd think are tears.
You push his gun down, the man still immobile as if you were the ghost; and you jump into his arms, circling his neck with your arms.
“It worked! It finally worked!” You exclaim, tears slowly running down your cheeks. “I have been trying to contact any of you for months, it finally fucking worked!”
Ghost struggles to tell whether you are laughing or crying, a mix of the two. But he can't focus on that, he can only focus on your skin under his gloves.
God, how he hated his gloves right now. 
He bites the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off spitting it somewhere. And he snakes his hand under your towel.
He knows is improper, perverted even; but he needs it. He needs to feel your warm skin under his palm, your heart beating loud and fast. 
He surrounds your waist, hands big enough to rest on your ribs, right under your chest. 
Boom, boom… boom, boom… boom, boom…
He sighs, melting onto you, his tears getting absorbed by the mask on his face. He hugs you tighter, daring you to slip from his fingers again.
He bites his lips, copper taste on his tongue, to prevent himself from sobbing.
But the sobs can be heard, and Ghost it's almost disappointed with himself until he notices your body shaking.
It's you who is crying.
And he panics again, pulling back to look at you and you cup your face, apologizing. 
“I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did.” He can barely understand what you are trying to tell him between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”
He shushes you quickly, he understands; the survivor’s guilt is a special kind of poison. But he understands, he feels it too. 
“It's alright, love. You are alright, everything is going to be alright.” He hugs you again, resting your head on his chest. Mourning Johnny will be easier if you are together, he now hates himself for thinking you were dead; for accepting it.
For mourning you for months and now having you on his arms. 
Warm and breathing. 
He can only imagine what you went through. 
You entered the tunnel because he called for you, and then he left you inside with a corpse. 
How did you get out?
How did anyone see you get out?
How did you find a house?
How did you survive alone with the guilt?
Are the scars on your shoulder for getting out or were they always there?
Were you trapped under the debris?
For how long?
But that doesn't matter, he knew you were strong. That you were clever. That you were better than him. 
He already knew that. 
Gaz and Price remain silent, reading in the situation that there is something underlying that they don't know. Letting the two of you, have your moment. 
It's only when Gaz hears the almost unnoticeable steps get closer that he moves, turning his body and almost dropping his weapon in the process when he sees him.
“Johnny?” That's all he is able to see.
And that's all that is needed to hear.
Price and Ghost whip their head around like they have been smacked, coming face to face with the man.
There are still bandages on the side of his head, he looks thinner, less muscles, sunken eyes and dark bags. But it's Johnny. 
A scarred, angry Johnny. 
Holding the pistol on his hands pointing to Ghost's head.
Looking at him as if Simon was his greatest enemy.
“Johnny…” He tries to talk to him, keeping you behind his back by instincts.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johnny shouts, his hands are shaking.
That explains it, why he look like a madman, why he looks so scared under the rage, why he keeps trying to look under him.
“Johnny, it's alright.” You finally say, moving from behind Ghost, softly pushing his arm back. You walk ahead, still only on the towel; and you walk up to Johnny. You rest your hand on the pistol, pushing it down with ease. 
You raise your other hand to the men, the signal of “wait”.
Johnny looks at you with utter confusion, eyes shaking moving around your face for any kind of explanation. His hand move around you, checking for any damage; the hand that doesn't have the gun clinging to the towel. 
You cup his face between your hands, the man bending down slightly to make it easier for you to reach; you whisper something to him making him relax almost immediately. 
And then you kiss him.
On the cheek, right beside the nose making him close his eyes for a second.
But it feels like a stab on Simon's heart. 
He tries to think rationally, you were just calming him down. He knows Johnny is always desperate for physical contact, that's all. Nothing else. 
He really tries to think logically, but logically the two of you are dead and buried under a tunnel. Not standing at the end of the hall, kissing and comforting each other. 
Something about it, about the possibility there is something more going on between Johnny and you; sends Simon's inner gears spinning. 
He sees the virtual space between the two of you, slowly getting in the shape of his body.
You whisper something to Johnny, he nods, touching your forehead with his for a second, before walking back. Looking at Simon with hate on his cerulean blue eyes. 
You sigh, watching Johnny move and turn to the three still shell-shocked. 
“As far as I can tell…” You whisper, once you are close to them. “He only remembers up to when he was 20, little more, little less.”
“So he doesn't remember anyone?” Price asks after a moment.
You shake your head. “Not that he hasn't asked me about, he asked about some people but I don't know them. He thought I was a nurse when he woke up.” You explain.
“What happened in the tunnel?” Gaz asks, looking behind you to check Johnny is not back. “How did you get out? And him? He was dead.”
You shake your head again. “Not yet. Almost… but not yet. I-”
“Bonnie! You want coffee or tea?!” Johnny's voice makes everyone jump.
“Coffee, please!” You answer without skipping a beat and turn to them. “I'll explain it later, alright? It's not the place nor the time.”
Price nods once. “Get dressed, I'll contact the pilot to let them know we are flying back tonight, right?”
“Roger that.” The three of you reply almost by muscle memory.
“I'll be fast, don't rile him up.” You say, before entering the bedroom closing it behind you.
Ghost feels Price's eyes on him. 
Wondering.
Asking.
What's between you and him?
What's between you and Soap?
What's inside his mind?
“Tea is ready.” It all gets interrupted by the amnesiac man calling them to the kitchen.
They walk together, sitting around the table. Gaz and Price find it almost easy to talk to Soap, about how happy they are to see him again, about how they are flying back later, easy chatter.
But Ghost can't. 
Not when Soap finally smiles at Price making fun of Gaz's cap and Ghost's breath is knocked out of his chest. 
That's his boy.
Breathing and warm.
Just like you.
He knows it's the universe talking, telling him not to fuck it up again.
Still, he feels his heart sink every time Soap looks at him with such a sour look. Offended even. His boy.
That would jump at any opportunity to impress him, to earn his respect, his affection. Now locked like he wanted to stab him on the chest, twisting the knife in the process.
He knows it's because of you, the way the man stared at his hand as you pushed it out of the towel didn't go unnoticed by Simon. 
Not the greatest first impression. 
Does it count as a first impression if he has known the man for years? 
You walk into the kitchen not much later, Johnny's eyes lightening at seeing you; his saviour. 
You walk past Ghost, your arm resting on his shoulder as you bend down to slightly knock your head against Soap's.
And that's it, that all Simon's needs. To be involved. He doesn't need to be in the middle of you two, he is fine with being in the sidelines, but he needs to be a part of it.
He knows you are on his side, you remember him unlike Johnny. You can be the bridge to get him to Johnny; to keep Johnny from running. Make a pack with him; keep the two of you close.
A turmoil of emotions keeps spinning inside Ghost's head, all the versions of himself wanting to be right.
The part of him he thinks is unable to love telling him to let the two of you alone, you are better of without him.
The part of him he thinks is unable to be loved telling him to not even try, save himself the rejection. 
The part of him that is still unsure of what even are his feelings telling him to not get involved, that it would only confuse the two of you.
But then there is also that part of him. The part called Simon Riley; that still holds onto the chance of loving and getting love.
And he looks at you and Soap, the way Soap looks up to you. The way he used to look at him. 
“Let's pack our things up, Johnny.” You say, patting Soap’s back. “The sooner we are back home, the better.”
And you smile at Soap so kindly, so wide, so warm.
He understands how you managed to calm Soap down. Waking up from what he assumed must be something close to a coma after getting shot on the head, not remembering anything, in pain, alone. And then you appeared, so soft and so kind.
He wouldn't blame Johnny if he was already in love with you, with you being literally the only thing he knows since waking up. 
Johnny stands up, walking out of the kitchen but looking back to make sure you are walking behind him. 
The two of you disappear down the hall, voices low as you move away.
“I can't believe they are alive…” Gaz comments, sipping his tea.
“Neither do I…” Price answers, sipping his. “Bloody necromancer…”
And you are, Simon was also dead before meeting you. 
“I'm gonna check on them.” He says, downing the beverage on a gulp that burns down his throat. 
He stands up, Price and Gaz look at him as he does. They are going to talk about him as soon as he gets out, but he doesn't care. 
He has made his choice.
He loves you.
He loves Johnny.
He walks down the hall, seeing the door ajar.
His hand reaches the knob when he hears it.
His blood running cold.
“Johnny…”
It's your sweet voice moaning the name. 
The unmistakable sounds of kisses inside the room.
“I don't like how he looks at you, bonnie.” The man whispers, his breathing unstable.
“He's your best friend, Joh-Ah!” You moan, interrupting yourself as you speak.
“I don't care! I don't know him. You are mine!” The man grunts, the sound of skin slapping slowly becoming more and more clear. 
“Johnny…” You moan again, and Simon is sure that he can hear your cunt squelch around Johnny's length. 
He opens the door the slightest bit, just enough for his eyes to see the way Johnny has you bent over on the bed. 
With you laying on your stomach on the bed, legs hanging from him without strength to push yourself up. Johnny behind you, a foot on the ground and the other on the mattress as leverage to keep sinking into your weeping cunt.
Neither of you bothered to take off the clothes, simply lowered the pants enough for Johnny to get inside of you. Your pants pooling on your ankles, legs limp with the rhythm Johnny has settled.
Simon wishes he could see your face, pleasure painted on your expressions with your face buried on the mattress. Johnny keeps your hands on your back, keeping you pressed against the bed. But the only thing he can see is Johnny's back.
So he sees perfectly fine when the man turns his torso around, still thrusting into you, and looks at Simon.
He looks straight into Simon's eyes, who panic just for a second for getting caught peeking into their room, into them together.
But the Johnny smiles, not the adoration-filled smile he used to gift Simon with. Instead, is the smile filled with pride that he only kept for after winning a match or catching an enemy.
Johnny raises his hand to show him his middle finger.
As he mouths “Fuck you.”
And Simon wants to laugh.
Johnny wants to play?
Then they'll play.
Game's on.
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@waiting-so-long
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danveration · 3 months
Text
Wherever you go, I won't be far to follow
Parings: Creepy!Vox x GN!reader
Summary: Vox is obsessed with you and he uses his VoxTek to stalk you
Word count: 1437
Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, one mention of Vox getting a hard-on, Vox being delusional, jealousy, k*lling, Vox jerking off
A/N: First time writing for Vox!! I got this idea from some amazing person on discord:’) I immediately went insane w the idea and had to write it up
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“I can’t get them out of my HEAD!” He yells angrily, banging his fists on the table.
Valentino and Velvet have noticed his behaviour towards you and tried to talk sense into him.
“They’re nothing special, Vox! Just another sinner. Get over them.”
“You tell us to not ruin our reputation but look at you. You’re a mess.”
“Maybe just.. go talk to them? Instead of being a fucking creep.”
Vox doesn’t listen. He wants to know what you’re doing 24/7 and who you’re doing it with. He has cameras set up everywhere. In your room, bathroom, hotel (as you’re currently living at the hazbin hotel), the street lights. Absolutely everywhere. He doesn’t want to meet you just yet, not until he learns everything about you so he can charm you off your feet.
You don’t even know him. You’ve heard of him through hell, yes. But you’ve never actually seen him face to face. Alastor has told you all that he isn’t anything to worry about, in which you believe him. Apparently he owns all the electronics in hell or something like that? You’ve seen posters of him and you think it’s kinda neat how he has a full on tv head as a face. But other than that, you never gave much thought to him.
———————————————————————
Today was just another day. You woke up, took a shower, went downstairs to have breakfast, and hung out at the hotel. Nothing of which you thought anything of, it’s just a normal boring day.
But Vox on the other hand thought differently. He thought everything you did was the most exciting, interesting thing ever.
“Oh! Fuck fuck fuck, they’re waking up.” He says, getting closer to one of the MANY tv screens he has in this room.
He looks at you in awe, touching the tv screen gently.
“So fucking cute when they’re waking up. Look at them, my god.” He whispers.
He watches you as you get out of bed, yawning. Watches you get undressed, and into the shower.
“Such a perfect body. I’d treat you so right. Better than anyone else could.” He says as he watches you wash yourself. He feels himself get a hard-on, but ignores it. He needs to have all his attention on you.
Watching you shower, learning your routine and what product you use, he stores all the information in one of his computer folders.
After you get out, he watches you choose what clothing to wear.
“Aww, that’s my favourite top on you.” He says in awe.
Then, you go downstairs to eat and hangout with your fellow hotel members.
Vox knows all your favourite foods and least favourite foods, to when you come over to live with him one day. He wants everything to be perfect. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger.
“You’re gonna haaavee..” He starts while you’re picking out what to eat.
“Fruit with cereal!” He shouts just as you pick it up.
“HAHA! Fucking knew it.” He says.
After you eat, he watches you interact with people.
He hates it. Hates when you talk to other people. What if they get too close to you? What if you like them more than him? So many thoughts cross his mind.
“Oh don’t you dare talk to-“ He starts while you’re walking up to Alastor.
You start talking to Alastor about something and Vox’s eye twitches.
He remains keeping his cool, but inside he wants to march over there and take you away. But he can’t do that, can he? That would be a horrible first impression! Even though he’s sure you’d fall for him in no time, he can’t risk it.
Right now, you’re sitting on a chair, scrolling through your phone.
Of course, Vox has hacked your phone too. He has another tv in which he can see exactly what you see.
He’s intently watching you play Angry Birds, when an ad comes up. Not just any ad, but a VoxTek ad.
You’re intrigued because this is the “Vox” you’ve heard of. You click it and Vox almost falls over.
“OH MY GOD. YOU-“ He scrambles to get as close as possible to the screen.
You start scrolling through the VoxTek website. It seems pretty cool, honestly. There’s a lot of “Trust us.” quotes, which you find kinda suspicious. But nonetheless, you’ve been wanting a new laptop since yours broke a while back. Why not give it a go?
You find a good priced laptop that actually seems like it’ll work really well, so you decided to buy it online.
Vox’s eyes widen.
“YOU- I-“ He stares in shock. You bought something from HIS website. You KNOW about him, it’s confirmed now.
He has the great idea to hand-deliver you the laptop. That’s a great first impression isn’t it?
He jumps up and goes to put on his best outfit. Making sure he looks 11/10. He cleans his screen, puts a mint in his mouth, and walks to the room where they keep all their product, finding the one you ordered.
He looks to his right, seeing the one you ordered, but then he looks down and sees one that’s 10x the money you paid for that one, and it’s their BEST laptop. It has so many features that he knows you’ll use. It’s their most high end product. He’s gotta give you that one instead. You deserve it.
He picks it up and puts it into a box, sealing it and putting a nice red bow on it. He kisses it and walks out.
“Vox? Where are you going? You’re looking quite fancy.” Valentino stops him as he’s about to walk out of the building.
“Oh nowhere!” Vox answers as he walks out. He doesn’t want Val to give him a hard time about this.
Val looks in question, but just walks off.
As Vox is walking to the hotel, he’s rehearsing his lines.
“Ah! Y/n. Hello there, I’m here to give you your laptop.” He mumbles. “No that sounds so fucking.. Hi, Y/n! Here’s your laptop.”
He mumbles a bunch of fraises when finally, he arrives on the doorstep.
He adjusts his bow tie and takes a deep breathe, knocking on the door.
You perk up at a knock on the door, you’re the only one at the hotel right now, other than Niffty. You go to answer it, wondering who it’ll be.
As you open the door, Vox’s heart stops.
It’s.. Vox? That tv guy! That’s weird, you literally just ordered a laptop from his site about 20 minutes ago.
He’s staring at you, mouth open.
“Uh.. hello?” You say with a questionable tone.
“Oh! Oh, shit. Hi! I’m here to hand deliver you that laptop you ordered.” He chuckles. “Well, actuallyyy, I got you a better one.” He whispers that last part.
You’re very confused. Do they hand deliver every laptop that someone buys?
“Oh um.. thank you! Thanks a lot.” You say, reaching out to take the box.
“Oh of course!” He says with a smile, handing it over to you.
“Do you like the bow? I picked it out just for you, Y/n.” He says.
You feel a weird sensation in your stomach when he says your name. How’d he..? I guess you have to put your name in the website when you order it. So that’s probably how he knows your name!
“Oh yeah! It’s.. a great bow.” You chuckle awkwardly.
You stand their in silence as he’s looking at you, seemingly so to be admiring you.
He realizes this is probably weird for you and takes a step back.
“Well! Haha. It was nice to meet you.” He says with a smile, sticking out his hand for you to shake.
Adjusting the box to hold it with one hand, you take your other one and shake his hand. As you do, you feel an electric shock.
“S-sorry about that.” He says, pulling his hand away.
“Oh it’s alright, don’t worry!” You answer, finding it kinda interesting.
Vox’s internal monologue is screaming. He just TOUCHED your hand. He’s never washing this hand. Ever.
He doesn’t want to leave but he knows he overstayed his welcome. It doesn’t matter though, he will see you again soon. There will be more meetings, more and more and more until you beg to see him.
“Cya, Y/n!” He waves at you, walking away with a satisfied smile.
“Bye!” You say, walking inside.
He goes home and jerks off to the hand you touched, moaning your name and cumming all over himself.
He’s got it bad for you.
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