#of him beating himself up for disappointing people when there's nothing he can do about it.

[blackypanther9]

Nothing to be ashamed of – Billy Loomis x Stu Macher x Trans!Male!Reader

TAGLIST: @juda-the-simp

WARNING!: Smuuuuuuut, Fluffy smut, gender dysphoria (mentioned), P in V, Oral sex, fingering AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

A/N: I hope I hit the mark ! I wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be like this, I hope it wasn’t too disappointing ! I can change it if there is something wrong with this ! I think I got a bit carried away.

M/n was nervous. He was very nervous. He was in a relationship with Stuart Macher and William Loomis for a long while now. They knew that M/n was a man, no matter that he had a feminine body with the wrong gender, other people didn’t accept him like that though. These two, did.

They always beat people up that misgendered M/n on purpose, heck, they even killed them ! And after a long time...M/n felt ready to have his first time with the both of them. And it made him so nervous !

And the worst ? The boys noticed while they made out with him.

“Are you still sure you want to do this ? You are shaking, M/n, Love.”, Billy asked, while Stu continued to pamper M/n’s neck with nibbles and kisses.

“I am sure, Billy. Just...nervous.”, M/n replied with a flinch.

Gosh did he hate his voice...It sounded so pathe- Billy kissed him and tore M/n out of his hate for himself. He licked M/n lips gently, asking for entrance and M/n opened his mouth. While they kissed and nibbled on M/n, the male could feel both of his Lovers getting hard. M/n would lie if he said that he wasn’t getting wet and excited himself.

The boys took off their clothes and then M/n’s. What the male didn’t expect was that Stu and Billy were in no rush at all. He...liked that.

Stu continued to kiss and nibble on M/n’s neck for a while, while Billy slid down and started to kiss and nibble M/n’s legs and thighs. Soft, gentle kisses were placed on his skin and M/n sighed in comfort. This felt...nice.

Stu started to kiss his chest and Billy ran his hands up and down M/n’s legs, while he worshipped his stomach with kisses, nibbles and soft bites. M/n moaned and he could feel himself gushing from between his legs, it was almost hurting. But Billy didn’t dare to touch that zone yet.

“You are handsome, M/n. You know that ?”, Billy asked and kissed the right side of M/n’s hips gently.

Stu stopped assaulting M/n’s chest and kissed his cheek, while M/n moaned.

“Tease, both of you.”, M/n pouted, ignoring that compliment.

He was not handsome.

Stu gave M/n a mischievous look.

“You are so adorable, our handsome, unique Lover.”, Stu said.

M/n blushed deeply. Did they really mean it ? He was unique ? M/n let out a loud moan as Billy’s mouth started to suck on M/n left nipple gently. He looked at him and Billy doubled his efforts, determined to make it bruise as a mark.

“We will cover you in marks and make you understand that we love you the way you are, M/n~ When we are done with you, you will be the most happy man on earth~”, Stuart purred and then kissed him on the lips, swallowing the male’s moans.

M/n gave a loud, yelp like moan as Billy softly bit his left nipple and then let go, satisfied that it will bruise in a few hours, then he kissed M/n’s stomach again and sucked a few hickies into the male’s skin.

“We’ll make you so pretty and you might love it so much, that you will stop caring what other people say and think of you~”, Billy purred out and gave M/n a charming smile.

Stu released M/n’s lips from his and then started to nibble and suck on M/n right nipple, before he took it into his mouth and did the same thing Billy did to M/n’s left nipple. The male moaned loudly in pleasure and whimpered in slight pain about how his pussy reacted.

Billy looked at him with a soft smile.

“Does it hurt, Baby ?”, he asked M/n.

He whimpered and nodded.

“Do you want me to take it away ?”

Again M/n nodded. Billy hummed and then lifted M/n’s hips up, making his sopping pussy face him. M/n had no idea what he was planning, but he let out a loud moan as Billy dived into his boyfriend’s cunt.

“B-Bi-Billy~! Ha~!”

Billy took his time with eating M/n out. He licked his clit gently for a while, then plunged his tongue gently into M/n’s pussy, moaning at his taste. M/n moaned louder and his hole clenched around Billy’s tongue. It felt weird, but also so good.

Stu gave one last harsh suck, that made M/n moan loudly, then he let go and went back to his neck, kissing, nibbling and sucking on it, inhaling his scent and humping the mattress.

Billy could feel how close M/n already was and the three of them agreed that each of them cums at least once. Billy didn’t had the heart to delay M/n’s first orgasm, so he continued and rubbed the bridge of his nose against M/n’s clit.

“Ha~! C-Cumming~!”, M/n warned.

“Then cum for us, Handsome~”, Stu purred and then bit M/n’s neck gently.

With a yell M/n came onto Billy’s tongue and he lapped it up like a treat, helping M/n through his orgasm, then he retreated. M/n shivered but it wasn’t enough and the boys could see it.

Billy leaned down and kissed M/n, which the male returned, wrapping his arms around Billy’s neck. While the two of them had a heated make out session, with either M/n or Billy moaning into the kisses, Stu got busy with palming himself a bit and watching.

Stu really wanted to cum inside M/n, but he didn’t know if he was ready for that, so he didn’t ask either. He will be satisfied enough if he is allowed to cum onto him and cover his cunt from the outside.

As soon as Billy parted his lips from M/n, he got off and Stu started to cover M/n in some more hickies on the stomach, leg and chest area. M/n moaned and felt how fast his arousal was built up again, Stu noticed and smiled.

“Do you want my fingers or my mouth, M/n~?”

The male was unsure. Stu had a long tongue, but what would his fingers feel like ? Maybe another time...

“M-mouth...”

Stu nodded and positioned M/n and himself, then he dove in, like Billy. Stuart went deeper with his tongue than Billy did and he hit something that made M/n see starts and moan louder than before.

Billy chuckled and then kissed M/n again, who returned the kiss with a small whimper.

“I see he found our beloved’s sweet spot~ Keep hitting that spot Stu~ Our handsome Love feels really good~”

Stu listened and continued to abuse that g – spot of M/n’s, making him moan and tremble, rushing towards his second orgasm. Billy continued to kiss M/n, which made him unable to warn Stu as he came screaming into Billy’s mouth.

Stu, eager as he was, lapped it all up happily and then very carefully removed himself. He started to nuzzle M/n’s thighs and looked at Billy.

“Do you think you are ready for more ?”, Billy asked M/n.

“Like ?”

“Do you think you are ready to let us...enter you. Or is that a big no ?”, he asked gently to not spook him.

“You...won’t see me any different...right ? If I let you both...in ?”, M/n asked with insecurity.

Billy and Stu looked at each other and then moved, like they had a conversation in thoughts. Stu was by his side again, his left hand between M/n’s folds, rubbing his sensitive clit. M/n whimpered softly, while Billy slid a bit further down and gently eased a finger inside M/n, making him moan softly.

While Billy carefully worked M/n’s pussy open with his index finger and Stu rubbed his clit gently with the other, they looked at him lovingly.

“We will never see you any differently, M/n. We love you, in every sense of the word, we respect you and we wish to mark and claim you. You wanted us to be your first time, to take your virginity. We are more than happy to do so.”, Stu said with love and pride.

“Just because you have a different sex between your legs, doesn’t that mean that we see you as any less of our handsome, charming, enchanting Lover. It doesn’t matter what sex you have, to us. Nor should it matter to you. You are M/n L/n and you are unique. No matter what.”, Billy added with love.

Gently Billy added a second finger and then scissored M/n open gently, curled and uncurled his fingers, adding pleasure to M/n again, while he was also in tears from happiness. These two boys will be the death of M/n one day.

“O-okay. But...please be gentle....”, M/n said shyly.

“Inside or outside when we cum ?”

M/n was in thoughts but then decided to fuck it all.

“Inside.”

Billy nodded.

“Okay.”

With that he pulled his fingers out, making M/n whimper at the loss. His cunt was sopping, begging for more. Billy started to rub his cock against M/n’s slick cunt, coating it in his juices to make him slip in easier.

“It might hurt a bit, Baby.”

“I can live with a bit of pain.”, M/n replied.

Stu continued to rub M/n’s clit, to make his pussy ease up a bit. M/n was jerking slightly from the stimulation, but the boys held him in place. Ever so gently did Billy slowly enter M/n’s pussy.

M/n hissed slightly at the stretch. It hurt a bit, but he can deal with it.

“Say stop if you need a break.”, Billy reminded M/n.

“Go on.”, M/n urged.

Soon enough Billy bottomed out and M/n was surprised that it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. Billy gave himself and M/n a small break to adjust, while Stu continued to rub lazy, slow circles into M/n’s clit. It relaxed M/n’s body slightly and whine that Billy wasn’t moving.

Billy groaned as he felt M/n clench around his cock and he looked at M/n, who seemed to be in bliss until now.

“Stu, stop playing with his clit, I don’t want him to finish without me.”, Billy said and Stu obeyed.

“Noo ! Stuey, continue !”, M/n whined as that pleasure was ripped away from him.

“Don’t worry, Darling. You will get more pleasure soon.”, Stu assured and kissed him instead.

M/n kissed back and Billy moved. At first it was slow and sensual, experimental too, but Billy found a spot and steady pace to get M/n worked up on soon enough.

“Ha~! Ah~! Billy~!”, M/n moaned as Billy thrusted in and out, hitting a sensitive spot over and over inside M/n.

Billy leaned down and started to kiss M/n and swallow all of his moans, while M/n swallowed Billy’s groans, feeling close. Stu just waited and watched, stroking himself in excitement.

“Are-ha~- you close~?”, Billy groaned out.

“Myes~”, M/n whimpered.

Billy nodded and rubbed M/n’s clit himself this time, making M/n moan loudly again and buck his hips up, which allowed Billy to get deeper inside him.

“Cum for me, Love~ I want you to cum all over my cock~”, Billy groaned out.

M/n whimpered and Billy kissed him while he continued to pleasure him. M/n got louder the closer he got with his moans and whimpers, then he came screaming into Billy’s mouth and he could feel how M/n’s juices were gushing around his cock. M/n’s walls tightened, his cunt sucking him in deeper and with one last push, Billy came deep inside M/n’s pussy, rope after rope, groaning into M/n’s mouth. M/n moaned again as he felt the warm, sticky liquid enter him.

Billy helped the both of them ride out their orgasms and as he was finished and knew that M/n calmed down too, he gently pulled out, which made M/n whine at the loss, but he knew they weren’t done yet and by how much M/n’s pussy twitched and begged for more, it he wasn’t done either.

Stu came crawling over and Billy watched M/n’s pussy intently, just like Stu. They both groaned, while M/n whimpered, as they saw Billy’s cum leaking out of his pussy. Billy couldn’t help it as he bend down and lapped it up, then kissed M/n’s clit and made out with M/n’s pussy. It was so much sensation, so much stimulation, but M/n’s body begged for more, even though this was his first time ever.

Billy’s lips touched M/n’s outer lips, his tongue inside his hole and lewd sounds were pulled from his pussy as Billy made out with his cunt. It was hot, it was sexy and M/n felt fucking good. It wasn’t rushed and he felt filled with love.

As soon as Billy was done, M/n was ready for Stu and he entered just as gently, with his right hand on M/n’s lower belly. He groaned as he bottomed out and felt his cock moving in M/n’s lower stomach. M/n whimpered and moved his hips, asking him to start to make love with him.

“I will mark you so nicely, love you so good, M/n~ You’ll never forget it~”, Stuart promised and then started moving.

Stu hit M/n’s G – spot with precision, he was gentle and slow, but his thrusts had purpose and meaning. This wasn’t rushed, nor was only lust speaking, but also love, care and a deeper understanding between these three. M/n was moaning while Stu groaned and praised M/n for being such a brave Lover to do this with them.

Billy was mostly busy with watching M/n’s reactions, in case he wanted it to stop. He was satisfied and just ran his fingers through their Lover’s hair and kissing him here and there, to let him know that Billy was still there and supported him.

It didn’t take long for M/n to be at his peak again with all the dirty talk from Stu and the doting from Billy. Billy’s kisses and his touches grounded M/n, while Stu was such a dirty mouth.

“Gonna cum so deep inside you, Baby~”

“Can’t feel you gushing around my cock like the eager boy you are~”

“You feel so good~”

“So tight~”

“So pliant~”

“Brave handsome Darling for taking my cock so well~”

“Can’t wait to fill you with my cum~”

Like, who wouldn’t get to their peak with all that filth ? Stu wasn’t far behind either, he flicked M/n’s clit a few times and he came screaming, cunt gushing around his cock. Stu moaned at the feeling of how M/n came on his cock and he knew he was at the edge. He grabbed M/n’s hips and then pulled him closer onto his rod, while he shoved inside as deep as he could.

M/n moaned a high pitched moan and bucked his hips to help Stu inside deeper, then he felt again warm liquid enter his pussy, Stu groaned and he gently rocked back and forth, fucking his cum deeper inside. Billy swallowed, finding it very erotic.

As Stu pulled out of M/n, after they were finished and both came down from their high, the two boys watched and waited for Stu’s cum to leak out. It was just a small trickle, which made Stu’s cock twitch again, knowing that his cum was in deep then.

Fuck...The two boys found that hot.

M/n looked at the two boys and they looked at him with immense love. He smiled at them. He felt truly loved and happy.

“Can we do another round ?”, Stu asked shyly.

Billy looked at Stu and then his dick, groaning in disappointment.

“You are still horny ?”, he asked.

“Don’t judge me ! So are you !”, Stu defended himself and pointed at Billy’s stiffened member.

They looked at each other and then at M/n. He swallowed, but opened his legs, encouraging them. Oh boy...this was gonna be a long night of love making for M/n, but he couldn’t ask for more. If Billy and Stu were always gonna be so sweet and caring with him, then who was he to deny ?

END

A/N: I think I fucked it up. Q-Q I should have left it at a cliffhanger. T-T

#read warnings above #fanfiction #male!reader #Scream #Billy Loomis x Stu Macher x Reader #Trans!Reader #MDNI #minors do not interact #Scream x Reader

[paperlovesadness]

Me seeing all the comments under Glasto-themed posts blaming Alex for being sick and calling off Dublin

I'm barely able to fold that knife though.... And I'm not trusting myself that it'll stay folded.

#I really have no words for people who lack the basic minimum amounts of sympathy and understanding #and YES IT'S POSSIBLE HIS SYMPTOMS CLEARED UP IN JUST 4 DAYS #am I worried they didn't completely? yes. but they might have. and either way they're Definitely A LOT better after him resting #taking care of himself. possibly getting some meds prescribed. hydrating. not talking. sleeping #What did they want him to do. go out and mime the songs for them? #go up and barely utter some words through the hoarseness - make things worse and call of yhe next month if shows instead? #risk getting actual chronic laryngitis? risk his whole career? #the hell is wrong with people #you've got no idea how scared I was & am for my show that's coming up too. It's like extremely meaningful and important to me #the vision of going helped me through some tougher times #but you know what I'm also scared of? #of one of my favorite artist's getting seriously hurt. #of him beating himself up for disappointing people when there's nothing he can do about it. #can't believe people lack the basic empathy. #i get being disappointed. Sad. Furious even. #be furious with a god if you've got one or the universe or bacteria or the very idea of voice boxes being suspectable to strain #not with the man who's just as frustrated with the situation as you are #AHHHH #(i unfolded the knife safely in the tags. folding it back up) #(I see the typos & I hate em & I'm mad but I won't be doing anything about it. I'm sorry) #// #my posts

[gay-jesus-probably]

I like the general fandom trend to just take the plot of Hyrule Warriors as a loose guideline at best and just use the whole concept as a good excuse to get blorbos to interact across timelines, BUT I'm very disappointed that everyone is missing the comedic potential of a very specific squad of characters:

Young Link (aka Mask), who walks out of the nightmare of Majora's Mask and immediately gets portal kidnapped into a temporal war, takes one look at the whole mess and decides that you could not fucking pay him to admit to being the resident expert on Time Shenanigans. He introduces himself with the title of Hero of Termina, and definitely doesn't have any other ones, that would be crazy. Hero of Time? Never heard of him.

Tetra, who is a kickass pirate captain with zero patience for people trying to shove her into the Designated Princess role, and realizes immediately that Oh Fuck, this Hyrule has a lot of Ideas about how the Hero and the Princess are supposed to properly play their parts, the second they realize she's technically a Zelda they're gonna shove her in a goddamn dress and damsel her again, that's not happening. So she's definitely just a really cool pirate captain, nothing else going on here at all, definitely not the heir of the Hylian royal family in her time, that'd be crazy.

Ravio, who is literally just a palette swapped Link, meaning that the second his hood comes off, things are gonna get Awkward. There's no way in hell he's dealing with all that Hero baggage, that's Link work, so that giant bunny hood/mask is practically superglued to his head, and he's not taking it off for love or money.

Spirit Tracks Zelda, who is just in the Phantom Armour the whole time, and passing herself off as just a friendly ghost posessing a suit of armour to help the Hero of Spirits. Of course she isn't Princess Zelda, that's ridiculous, if she were a Zelda then people would start getting really weird about her technically being dead, and boy does that ever sound like a whole Thing she doesn't want to deal with, so she can't possibly be Zelda, she's just a nice ghost knight. Also, her teenage grandma is here, and that's kinda weird, so it's easier to just not admit to being royalty and avoid that awkward conversation.

Finally there's Sheik, who is not the Princess Zelda of the era straight up abandoning her war torn country for months at a time so she can risk her life in extreme cosplay for no clear reason, but is instead the actual Sheik from Ocarina of Time, who just beat Ganondorf like a month ago and is still trying to process what the fuck to do now. Also, he's been pretending to be a boy since he was ten, and is realizing there's a pretty good chance that he isn't pretending anymore, so that's a whole other can of worms. But for the last seven years of his life, being Princess Zelda meant certain death, so he's not really inclined to introduce himself like when in a new and stressful situation (not to mention he might actually just not be a girl named Zelda anymore), so he automatically introduces himself as just Sheik the spooky ninja man, and fuck he's in too deep to back out now, looks like he's committing to the bit. If you think you sense the Triforce of Wisdom on him, no you don't.

Cue shenanigans as the five of them attempt to hide that they're all actually kind of A Big Deal. The group motto is "Nobody says shit", which is usually delivered as a frantic hiss whenever someone slips up. Just the reunion between Sheik and Mask alone would be absolutely buckwild given how they parted, and how they're both frantically pretending to Not be involved with each other. For added hilarity and/or drama, Sheik gives his semi-bullshit cover story of having just been a friend of the Hero of Time, then runs into said Hero of Time and they both have to desperately pretend not to know each other, because if anyone picks up on the mountain of baggage between them then Mask is busted, and he won't hesitate to drag Sheik down with him out of sheer spite. Not to mention the weird balance of Sheik being used to this Link being a teenager that's actually a small child, and now has to adjust to Link who is a small child that's actually a teenager.

Also, i really feel like we're all missing out on the comedy potential of Ganondorf recognizing Young Link on sight and the two of them immediately launching into a grudge match with some extremely personal and specific insults on both sides. Meanwhile literally everybody else is just standing there watching, trying to process the fact that out of every single person that's been pulled out of time, Ganondorf only has personal beef with a literal nine year old.

I just feel like we're all really sleeping on the potential for Shenanigans here. The whole thing is an absurd mess, why not have some fun with it?

#legend of zelda #hyrule warriors #for the record im picturing the sheik-mask reunion as being the spiderman pointing meme for like five minutes #also my mental image of sheik is extremely Bad haircut (he does it himself with a knife and doesnt care about making it even) #and a ridiculous tanline across his face from wearing a mask all day #OOT magiaclly growing out zelda's hair and manifesting a Royal Gown was some top tier bullshit and i'm always angry about it #like dude. literally all of princess zelda's finery was made for a ten year old #she's like eighteen now. nobody's making royal finery for teenage zelda. where was she supposed to get that dress. #i am eternally on my agenda to let zelda wear some goddamn pants without an immediate magic makeover to *fix* it #anyways nintendo's sexism aside i like sheik being trans its very fun and sexy of him #tfw you go into hiding to escape political assassination and accidentally trans your gender in the process

[familyvideostevie]

watching you with wonder

joel miller x reader joel claims to have heard something interesting. too bad he keeps insisting he needs more information before he can tell you | 5.4k a/n: same universe as come care about me but not necessary to read that one first! joel is soft, this is my version of him where he and ellie heal and he gets to have a life etc etc etc | domesticity, post-part i jackson au, joel is a flirt and a gossip but good thing you are too, a fair amount of kissing, fluff, softness, peace and all that good stuff. part 3 here! series masterlist here.

It's been a long day. The supply run you'd been dreading went off without a hitch but you were out of the gate at sun-up and in the saddle for most of the morning and afternoon. Your legs are sore, your back is sore,  and you're dirty from a day outside the walls.

You haven't seen Joel since this morning. Not unusual, not by any means. Most days you're both doing something in town, occasionally one of you out on patrol. You're partial to the plant work and Joel likes to chop wood or check out houses that need upgrades with Tommy. But after a day like today you want nothing more than to go home and complain about how much you miss cars while Joel works the knots out of your shoulders. 

But tonight is Festival Night. Nothing big, just a dance at the barn that serves as the community center with music and drinks and food. And Joel, despite his insistence that he's Jackson's resident grump, will be there, because Tommy will have asked him to go and he doesn't like disappointing his brother. And, though he'll never admit it even to you, he enjoys community events. He gets to see the people he loves having a nice time and feeling safe. 

So you head from the stables to the main hall, not bothering to stop at home. Jackson seems to be lit up extra special, the air a little lighter due to the laughter and music brightening the night. The noise becomes almost overwhelming when you open the door and slide inside, dropping your pack against the wall. It's much warmer in here and you unbutton your coat as you make your way through the crowd, waving to people as you go. 

Joel is here somewhere but you don't try too hard to spot him. You know he'll find you. Someone calls your name and you pivot on your heel to find Ellie waving at you from a...poker table?

"Wanna join?" she asks once you walk over. Next to her is Tommy, who looks significantly less excited than she does. "I'm teaching Tommy how to play poker. Oh, sorry, I'm fucking smoking Tommy at poker."

"I know how to play, you little shit," Tommy growls. "Who taught you? This isn't poker, this is a fuckin' massacre." 

Ellie cackles and tips her chair back so she's balancing on the back legs.

"I'll pass this round," you tell her. "Looks like you've got him handled."

"You just want to find Joel." She looks at you in that uncanny way of hers like she knows all of your secrets. But this is one you have no problem admitting.

You smile at her. "Seen him?"

"Now that you're here I'm sure he'll slink out of whatever corner he stuck himself in," Tommy grumbles. "Girl, you sure you ain't countin' cards?"

You leave them to it and wander over to the bar. Astrid pours you a glass of something amber. You take a sip and let the burn warm your throat, your stomach. The music behind you picks up and there's laughter and you turn to see people pairing up and flocking to the floor. 

You close your eyes to enjoy the sounds that mean peace, safety, home. It never gets old and you never quite get used to it. You inhale deep and -- ah, yes. There it is. A smile spreads across your face as you breathe in wood glue, gunpowder, the soap you make at home. Your heart beats a little faster, even after all this time.

"Hi," you say, opening your eyes. Joel stands in front of you, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a glass similar to your own. His hair curls at his collar, edges still a little wet from the shower he must have taken before coming here. His shirt is rolled to his elbows, his jacket clearly discarded somewhere. Your gaze trails up his chorded forearms, his watch securely in place as always. This is what you've called his "nice" shirt, a deep green that makes the grey of his beard all the more striking and brings out his eyes. 

Eyes that settle on you in a way that sends heat up your spine.

"Howdy," he says. "You just get here?"

"Like you weren't watching the door for me," you tease. He shrugs and reaches for you, his free hand curling around your hip to tug you close for just a few moments. Joel presses his lips to your cheek lightly, his beard scratching your skin as he pulls away and settles at your side, arm resting on the bar behind you. 

"Well, I ain't seen you all day," he reminds you. As if you could forget. Every second you're not looking at him you sort of wish you were. There aren't many good things left in your life -- all of them are in this town, now -- and you tend to hold on to the ones you still have with both hands. Joel, despite the fact that he'd argue with you over it, is your good thing. Your best thing.  

"Miss me?" 

"Dumb question," he mutters. 

His fingers brush against the back of your bicep, warm through your jacket. "How was the run?"

"Easy. Long." You take a sip of your drink. It's still warming but doesn't measure up to the solid warmth of the man beside you. "I came straight here."

"That would explain why you smell like shit," he drawls. You smack his chest. He doesn't so much as flinch.

"Rude."

Joel watches the crowd and you watch him. That's how it usually goes with you two. You figure he's watching for threats, for any sign of something going wrong. It's a habit most folks here find hard to break. He's watching Ellie, who has left the poker table behind, twirl some of the children around with Dina, he's watching Tommy try to teach a few drunk guys how to square dance like he does every Festival. Joel curls his hand around your shoulder and you lean back into the touch. 

On a night like tonight when joy is more contagious than the fungus spreading through the rotting world, Joel loosens up a little. It's a good look on him and it only ever means good things for you -- he laughs more, he touches you more. But most importantly you know he lets life in. He lets that knot you know is in his chest, the one made of fear and loss and survival and all of the horrible fucked up things he's seen and done, he lets it loosen even just a bit. He lets himself feel the good things, too. How much the people in this town respect him, care about him. How much they appreciate him. How much they love him, how much you love him.

You look at him in the soft light of the barn. There's a tug to his mouth that you know.

He looks smug. It's a nice look on him, a relaxed one. He looks too handsome for his own good. And though you love him, love how he's enjoying the night, like hell you're going to let him stand there and get away with whatever he's cooking up.

"Joel Miller, why are you looking so pleased with yourself?"

"No reason," he says. He takes another sip of his drink, side-eyeing you over the rim. This man. 

You tap the heel of your boot against his. "Don't make me beg."

His eyes flash but he turns into your space, the solid shape of him curling around you as well as his arm. In another world, in another life, he could be a handsome man picking you up at a bar. 

"I heard somethin'," he says, voice low. "Somethin'...interestin'."

"Really?" You look around the barn as if the object of his gossip will materialize in front of you. "Tell me."

He leans back and you have to stop yourself from following. "Don't think so."

"Joel."

This man can be such a shit when he wants to be. 

He holds the hand carrying his glass up in surrender, the brown liquor sloshing close to the rim. "Hey now, don't go shootin' the messenger."

"I can't because he won't tell me the message."

"S'not anything worth tellin' just yet," he drawls. "I need a little more intel. Y'know, make it worth your while."

You sigh, hamming it up a bit by thunking your forehead to his collar. Joel huffs a laugh and fully drapes his arm across your shoulders, warm and solid. 

It's all fun but you know there's a note of truth to it. Joel can lie better than most people but he doesn't lie to you. "Fine. You get away with it for now."

The song changes to something old and slow, something you recognize but don't quite remember the name of.

"Only if you dance with me," you say. You swallow the last of your drink and push off the bar, sliding out from under his arm. You hold your hand out to him and wiggling your fingers. "It's only fair."

He sighs like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. And he is, sometimes. But right now his cheeks are a little flushed from the drink and your flirting and you want to see how far you can take it.

"Unless I smell too much like shit," you goad. You don't actually think he'll go for it. Joel doesn't dance. It feels like the kind of good time, the kind of joy that is forever stuck in the past, left behind twenty odd years ago. Honestly, you think he'll just drag you home and have his way with you in your warm bed. 

But he manages to surprise you.

Joel throws back his drink and grabs your hand. His thumb strokes your skin.

"S'pose it is," he says. "You don't smell that bad."

A delighted laugh spills from you. He leads you to the already-crowded dance floor, pulling you close with a hand on your back. You rest your arm on his broad shoulder and hook your thumb in his collar. 

"Not so bad, is it?" you say. Your faces are so close you're practically cheek to cheek. You feel his breath on the shell of your ear, his beard a little prickly against your cheek. 

"Could be worse." You and Joel gently sway and you toy with the ends of his hair. Over his shoulder you can see Dina and Ellie dancing, arms wrapped around each other tight. You close your eyes and match your breaths to Joel's. 

"We should do this more often," you say. "Bet they'd let you play guitar at the next festival if you wanted."

Joel hums. 

"Don't forget you have to deliver the firewood to the school tomorrow." He presses his hand to your back and pulls you even closer. "Are you listening to me?"

"Mhm."

"Joel --" Your eyes fly open and you try to pull away to goad him but he holds you steadily against him.

"Hush," he says, fingers squeezing yours. "I'm enjoyin' the moment."

You allow it.

___

The gossip Joel mentioned is in the back of your mind but you know he'll tell you when he's satisfied with his information gathering or whatever the fuck he's up to. Sure, it's silly, maybe even pointless but you like to think of it as a display of the trust you have in each other. You trust Joel with your life and you've put that into practice, watched him bloody his knuckles for the ones he loves. You also trust him with your heart, your body, your mind. There's no part of you that his hands haven't touched, haven't loved in the jagged, intense way of his. 

Plus you enjoy seeing him pleased with himself, which you know he will be once he has the whole story to tell you. It's not a mood you see on him often.

You finally have a free night and Ellie asks you to come over to try out a new video game Jesse found for her on patrol. Joel waves you off when you offer to stay in with him instead.

"Means I'll get some peace and quiet to finish my book," he grumbles, handing you your coat even though you're walking across the yard. He's already peeled off his boots and looks half-awake in the dim light of your entryway, glasses tucked into the collar of his sweater.

"More like you're going to sit in bed and fall asleep reading without me talking to keep you awake."

He sends you off with an eye roll and a soft kiss which you turn into two more, just because. Maybe a few years ago he'd sit in the chair downstairs and wait for you to come home. He does like to play his guitar on the porch when it's not too cold, keep an eye on things. But you'll be with Ellie just out back and it's been a long week. It's no small point of pride that, with the help of your reassurance and persistent care and his own conviction, Joel allows himself to relax a little. "Have fun."

You do. Ellie and Joel have a history that is complex and tender, so much so that sometimes it's too much for both of them. After it seemed like she was open to it, you've tried to make sure you and her have a relationship all your own. She's smart and funny and fiercely loyal to the people she cares about. You feel lucky to be one of them.

But she still annihilates your ass when it comes to video games. 

"You know," she says, cracking her knuckles after yet another defeat. "It's embarrassing as shit how you literally lived in a time where you could play these like, whenever you wanted. And yet it's me, who was born after the world ended, who keeps winning."

You make sure to look unamused. "Whatever." You stand, stretching out your spine with your arms above your head and yawn. "It's teenage luck." You have no idea how this girl stays up so late all the time. 

"I guess I'm just good at everything."

"Oh, you sure about that?" She hands you your coat and tugs on the strings of her sweatshirt. "I've seen you in a kitchen. You might want to rethink that one."

"Psh," she says, waving you off. "Who needs to cook, anyway?"

You slide into your boots and shake your head. "I'm actually shocked Dina puts up with you." 

"Hey, fuck you!" she cries, though she's hiding a smile. "No insulting me in my own home. It's Joel's fault, anyway. He can't cook either."

You snort. "Don't I know it." She grins at you fully, the one you call her shark-tooth smile, and you grin back. "Thanks for this, kiddo. I had fun." 

"Yeah, maybe one day you'll win." You tug her in for a quick hug which she allows before squirming away. "Alright, alright. Go make sure he didn't burn down the house without you, or something."

It's late, late enough that you feel yourself getting more tired with each step back to the porch. Joel left the back door unlocked for you. You latch the deadbolt behind you and peel off your outer layers in the dark. A quick glance in the kitchen tells you Joel put your stuff from dinner away and is probably in bed. He's left out your mugs, ready for the morning, and the list he's been making of things you need to do around the house before it snows. You love to see the pieces of your life on display like this -- signs that this is a home.

You don't bother being quiet when you climb up the stairs because you know he'll be pissed if you don't wake him to let him know you're home. The bedroom light is on but when you actually go in you see he's in bed with his book in his lap, glasses sliding down his nose. His eyes are closed and his bare chest rises slowly.

He's probably only half-asleep, probably heard you come in and decided it was safe enough to shut his eyes until you say something. So you get ready for bed quickly, tugging on soft clothes and brushing your teeth before creeping over to his side of the bed and perching on the edge of it, resting your hand on his thigh under the covers.

"Joel," you say softly. "Joel, are you asleep?"

"Yes," he grumbles. His eyes flutter open, the piercing grey a little clouded with tiredness. He reaches for his glasses and pulls them from his face a bit clumsily. "You okay? You n'Ellie have fun?"

"We did. She's so good at video games it's a little scary." You pluck the frames from his hand and fold them, setting them on his bedside table with his book. He grunts and pushes himself up a little more in bed, his leg pressing against your tailbone through the blankets. It's a real show of your restraint that you don't run your hands over the golden and hairy expanse of his chest, the broad line of his shoulders. Instead you reach for his face and he lets you, eyes crinkling at the corners as he tries and fails to hide his amusement as you trail your fingers through his hair. Just being here with him makes you a little sleepy, your body catching up with your mind at how you always feel safest when he's in the room with you. "S'cold, though. I think we might need to put some more insulation in the shed for her."

"Alright," he says. Joel wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls your palm to his cheek but quickly flinches away. "Christ," he mutters. "Your hands are cold." He encases both of your hands in his and rubs slowly, throughly. 

"Let me get in bed, then." You make no effort to move. 

Joel blows on your fingers and, in a move that's tender even for him, presses his lips to their tips. "I ain't holdin' you here."

"Sarcasm," you say. "And Ellie claims you're not funny." Joel scoffs and you laugh, rising from his side of the bed and making your way around to yours. Joel flicks back the covers and you slide in, facing him. 

"Light off?" he asks. You nod. He shuffles around to flip the switch and then settles into his side with a groan. It's dark but you know his face with your eyes closed, let alone in the moonlight of your bedroom. The gash on the bridge of his nose, the scruff of his greying beard, the nicks along his cheeks and temples. The age spots, the wrinkles, the lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth, these days more from smiles and laughter than stress and worry. Or so you like to think. 

"Got any gossip for me yet?" 

Joel huffs. "Not quite."

"Jooooooel," you whine, scooting closer. You hook a leg over his and slide your hand over his stomach, fingers catching on the hair above the waistband of his sleep pants. He makes a noise deep in his throat but otherwise allows it. 

"I ain't givin' you half-assed information," he says. "It'll be worth the wait."

With Joel, it always is. You consider dragging it out a little more but you're cold and tired and he's so warm and you barely saw him at all today. "Alright," you say. You pull yourself even closer under the covers, dragging your nose over the hollow of his throat, his beard a delicious scratch on your skin. Your hand curls around his hip and he reaches for you on instinct, warm, callused palms sliding under your sleep shirt to press into your bare skin.

He huffs a tired laugh, chest rumbling with amusement. "What're you up to?"

"You're warm," you say into his skin.

"And you're handsy."

You trail your lips up to his and press them to the corner of his mouth. "You love it."

"Guess I do," Joel says. He catches you in a lazy, slow kiss, tongue tracing the seam of your lips until you part them. He licks into your mouth like he's got all the time in the world and you let him. His nose presses against yours and you sigh even further into the embrace, pressing as close as you can, as if you could crawl into him and stay there forever. Any cold lingering in your bones is dispelled by Joel's touch, by the thigh he wedges between your legs. This could turn into something more, and you love when it does, but tonight it's just about being close. His hand trails up your side to cup your face as the kisses get lazier, sleepier. You're slotting his bottom lip between yours when he pulls back and --

Yawns in your face. 

He looks a little surprised and then frowns. You laugh and smooth the crease between his brows before kissing him once more.

"Jesus, Joel," you say. "Bedtime."

"Was sleepin' fine before you got here," he grumbles, but  in the same breath he wraps his arm around you and tugs you with him as he turns onto his back so your head lays on his chest. You match your breaths to his. He presses a kiss to your hair.

___

Two nights later you wake to an empty bed. 

You sleepily trail your hand through the sheets and find they still carry Joel's warmth. He must have gotten up a few minutes ago. You force your eyes to open but don't see a light in the bathroom, find no shadow in your eyesight. You can hear his voice in your head saying go back to sleep, s'nothin' but you know better than to listen to him when it comes to this. It's not like you'll be able to until you know he's okay, anyway. 

So you wrap the blanket from the foot of your bed around yourself and shuffle through the house and down the stairs. 

"Joel?" you call quietly. 

"Kitchen," he replies, a warm grumble in the still of the night. You didn't even look at the clock when you got out of bed but it must be late. 

He sits in the dark at your small kitchen table, eyes fixed on Ellie's garage out back. He's put a shirt on. Of course. Nightmare. This is where he always sits after he has one. His hands are wrapped around his mug. Based on the smell it's chamomile tea -- the only time he'll drink it instead of coffee is on nights like tonight. He had no idea it even grew in the greenhouses here until you presented him with a jar of it for Ellie back when you were still tiptoeing around whatever was between you. Those days are long gone.

"You okay?" You keep your voice hushed. It's rare these days that he'll want to be alone. You're the only one who gets to see him like this other than Ellie. It took a while but now Joel lets you comfort him, he lets you hold him together when he needs it. 

He tears his eyes from the window to meet yours, chin tipped up as he gets a good look at you in the dark. 

"M'alright." You take a few more steps into the kitchen and he frowns. "You cold?" He reaches for you with one hand, beckoning you close. You step into his space and he wraps one arm around you, leans his head against your soft stomach. You untangle from the blanket slightly to run your fingers through his hair. The touch is as grounding for him as it is for you.

"What can I do?" you ask him, ignoring his question. 

You can feel the warmth of his palm through the blanket and your sleep shirt. "This is just fine. Just need a minute." 

"You wanna take that minute on the couch?" He grunts his assent and you step back to allow him to get up. He leaves his mug on the table but catches your hand to pull you with him.

Joel sighs when he settles into the worn cushions, knees spread wide and head tipped back as be breathes. He doesn't look any more tired than usual but you can tell he's still holding onto whatever sent him down here. 

You press into his side, legs curled underneath you. His arm settles heavily on across your shoulders and you rest a palm on his knee. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" He turns his head to face you and his nostrils flare as he frowns.

"Nothin' new," he sighs. "A pretty old one, actually. Haven't had it in a while. 'Bout stuff from when we were on the road."

If he wants to say more he will. You don't know what it's like for him to worry about Ellie -- you only know how youworry. Once the sun rises he'll probably trudge over and knock on her door, ask if she wants to go for a ride. She'll complain about being woken up but she'll agree because she knows him, too. She'll see the tension at the edges of his eyes, in the set of his shoulders. There have been nights when you come downstairs to find her sleeping on the couch, too, just because she wanted to be sure he was okay.

You lean your head on his shoulder and breathe with him. He picks up your hand and rubs his thumb across the back of it slowly, as if he doesn't even know he's doing it.

Sleep is a near thing when Joel eventually clears his throat. "I got that gossip for you." His chest rumbles and you perk up, pulling back to look at him. His eyes have a bit more spark, a bit less of the far-away look he had when you came down the stairs. 

"Oh, do you now? Finally?"

"You're just impatient," he says. "Hadn't heard directly from either of 'em so I wasn't sure. But I tracked it down and got it from the source."

"You sound like a detective from one of those old shows. Got it from the source," you say, pitching your voice low and imitating his drawl. 

He manages to look unimpressed. "I don't have to tell you."

"Joel."

"Alright, alright. Well, it's about Wendy and Fred."

You sit up. "The couple that met on your group patrol?" It's something you and Ellie tease him about -- his accidental tendency to play matchmaker. Sometimes he leads group patrols for new folks or younger community members who are now old enough to join the roster. You think he probably enjoys scaring the shit out of them a little but he's also good at it, teaches them well and makes sure they're safe. Around the time you met you'd heard about a couple who met on a patrol and hit it off. It's happened a few more times with Joel's groups but Wendy and Fred are the only ones who have stayed together. 

"Mhm. Word is they're gettin' married."

You gasp. This is very far from what you expected him to tell you. A lot of the gossip you and Joel share is about people breaking up or sleeping together or moving out of Jackson. Sometimes it's petty theft or in-fighting at the council. But this? This is downright romantic.

"Married?" It's not uncommon these days but most people don't bother. But most importantly it means one thing -- there's going to be a party. "We haven't had a wedding in...forever," you say wistfully.

"Been a few years, yeah," Joel agrees. "Folks'll be excited."

"How did you find out?" 

He shifts on the couch a little and you take control of your clasped hands, holding one of his in both of yours as you trace the lines on his palm, the veins that go up his arm while he talks. 

"Heard from one of the guys at the festival that Fred was lookin' for a ring. Wanted to get the word out to some supply runs but without her knowin'. But I wasn't sure, since I hadn't seen him in a while. Then I saw Wendy at the pantry few days ago and she looked real happy. I didn't pry but asked her how things were and she was chipper as hell."

"And that wasn't enough to tell me?"

He squeezes your shoulder. 

"Yesterday Fred cornered me when I was headin' home and told me flat out. Thanked me for some fuckin' reason and said Wendy agreed to marry him. Kid looked like he was gonna throw up, he was so excited."

Joel's voice is warm. "You are such a romantic when you want to be," you tell him.

He smirks. "Heard that before."

"It'll be nice to have a celebration. If we're invited, you're dancing with me again."

"We better fuckin' be invited," he grumbles. "I introduced them."

"So you admit to being a matchmaker?"

He huffs. "Nah," he says, a little softer. "Dumb luck. S'how you get good things these days."

You shift under his arm a little bit. "Maybe," you reply. "I think we've earned a few of those things."

Joel drags a hand down his face. It's a motion that usually means he's chewing on what to say next. You spare him.

"This --" you gesture between the two of you "--and all of this --" you wave your hand at the room, the house "-- is more than I knew I could want. You, this house, that feisty, wonderful girl out back. This whole town. Waking up every morning and not dreading another day on this hellish planet. I didn't know this existed anymore, Joel, let alone that it was possible for me. And I think we've earned it."

He's quiet for a few breaths. "C'mere," he says softly. You don't know exactly what he means but he pulls you into his lap so you're straddling him, his arm firm around your hips. It could be a heated position, often is, but here it's just to be close. You catch yourself on his shoulders and drag your hands up to his cheeks. You hold his face in your hands, thumbs stroking the soft, forever-bruised skin under his eyes.

"You sure got a way with words," he says thickly, gaze heavy. "Don't know what I did to deserve this but I ain't gonna question it."

You wrap your arms around him and properly embrace him. He presses his palms to your back and hooks his chin over your shoulder. Your breathing syncs up and you swear your heartbeats do, too. Your whole body, your whole being tuned itself to Joel a long time ago. You'd do everything you've done twice over to get here. 

As if he hears the desperate devotion of your thoughts, Joel pulls back so he can lean up for a kiss. It's more intense than you expected it to be, like he's trying to tell you something with the press of his mouth. You know what he's trying to tell you -- you always do. Joel is better at showing you how he feels than telling you. 

He suckles your lower lip and you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck. He makes a noise low in his throat and you swallow it. You could touch him forever and never get enough. The firm planes of his back, the knot of tension always present in his shoulders. The scratch of his beard, the press of his nose against yours. You want to stitch yourself to him so that you never have to let go.

"S'your turn," Joel grumbles against your lips, pulling back to catch his breath.

Your brain is a little fuzzy. "Hm?"

"For somethin' juicy." 

It's a funny word coming from his mouth and it makes you laugh. His arms tighten around you and he drags his nose down your neck and breathes deep. You can get some gossip for him. You'd do much worse without being asked. Sometimes you think there are no limits to what you'd do for this man. It's a big thought, a dangerous thought, one that's suited to the world you live in now. You don't mind it.

"I'll get you something good, Joel Miller. I promise."

"I know you will," he says. "I trust you."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction

[stars4gojo]

Let the Light in

Dad!Gojo x fem!reader // mentions of arguments & fights, angst, fluff // 947 words // gradeschool!Megumi

Gojo is used to people leaving him he believes when you die you die alone so it comes as a shock when you stay.

More of my work 🤍

You silently sit and stare at the boy across your dinner table - unable to find the right words. To say that you’re mad is an understatement, Satoru is late again, and your 7-year-old boy got into another fight. You impatiently tap your foot, wrapping your arms around your chest while Megumi eats up his sandwich.

The door suddenly opens and Gojo walks in, a box of cake in his hand and a big cheeky smile on his face.

You sigh exasperatedly as you turn to your clock and then to him, “Do you know how late you are Satoru? We’ve been waiting for almost an hour now.” You speak sternly.

“I’m sorry princess but I had to buy this little celebratory cake, Megumi did win his first fight.” Gojo replied as your eyes twitched in irritation.

“So, champ did you tuck your thumb in every punch.” Gojo bended down to Megumi as he patted his head.

“He used cursed energy to beat up 4 sixth graders.” You deadpanned before Megumi could say anything.

Gojo got up as his mouth dropped agape.

“You should’ve said so! I would’ve bought some party streamers with the cake.” Gojo replied as he snorted at his joke.

“Satoru this is serious, our 7-year-old child is beating up sixth graders with cursed energy - it could lead to big and i mean big injuries.” You frowned as you saw Megumi put his head down in shame.

“You understand what you did wrong right Gumi?” You added as he nodded shyly.

“I’m sorry” he replied curtly.

“Promise you won’t do it again” you spoke as you held out your pinky that he gladly accepted with a small smile.

“Thank you, now go to your room.” You said as his small figure dragged his feet to his room.

You knew that you would speak to him again privately about the situation but for now you had to deal with your man child of a boyfriend.

Now you turn towards Gojo who’s still standing there with little to no interest in the conversation.

“Toru what was that about? You can’t be congratulating or be excited for him when he’s getting into fights - you cannot encourage this behaviour.” You started speaking as your eyebrows squeezed in disappointment.

“Look y/n he is my child on papers so I think I can decide what to do.” He replied putting emphasis on the word “my”.

Your mouth fell slightly in shock as your eyebrow raised.

“No- no that’s not what I meant” He quickly added but the damage was already done.

“Okay Satoru, since Megumi is your child and he has absolutely nothing to do with me, I’ll be taking my leave.” You said as tears slowly formed in your eyes.

“Wha- that’s not what I me- where will you even go?” He asked hurriedly - now he’s worrying.

“That’s none of your business.” You spoke while grabbing your bag.

And just like that you were out the door.

-

It’s been 6 hours since you left, Gojo finished giving Megumi and Tsumiki their dinner (he ordered in McDonald’s) and even tucked them into bed - giving them little reassurances that you’re gone to Aunty Shoko’s house for a sleepover. But your two children were clever, they knew something was up, the little screaming match was not left unheard and Gojo’s worried glances towards his phone were not left unnoticed. But they also knew better than to question your love for them they knew you were different than biological parents - they trusted you completely to return.

Gojo flopped on the couch as he stared up at the ceiling, he sighed exhaustedly as it finally hit him - you had left.

He tried calling every number of every person you could possibly stay with, the only person who hadn’t picked up was Shoko no matter how many times he called so he assumed you were with her.

The silence slowly engulfs him as he looks back on the moment, he thinks to himself why he would ever say that. When he adopted Megumi and Tsumiki you two had promised each other that you were in this together. This silence grows by every second and he thinks he’s used to it - the same silence was there when his grandmother had passed, when he left geto to die and now it’s back to taunt him after you left.

His train of thoughts is stopped when he hears the door lock click, he turns his head comically fast to see you standing there giving him a tight-lipped smile.

He runs up to you as he takes you in his arms; not giving you any time to react.

“I’m sorry I’m so sorry you know I didn’t mean that right?” He spoke quickly as if you were going to disappear any second now.

“I love you so much and it was so wrong for me to even think that you’re any less of a parent to them.” He added as you let go of his embrace.

“I’m sorry Toru I shouldn’t have left, you’re right I’m not any less of a parent and it really hurt me to hear you say it.” You spoke with a slight frown still apparent on your lips.

“I know I know I promise I’ll never ever say that again so please don’t ever leave us to go to Shokos again.” He replied with a pout as you giggled in response.

“Alright your big baby, let’s get to bed?” You added as you grabbed his arms to interlock with yours and headed to bed where he would cuddle you all night.

'Cause I like to love, to love, to love, to love you I hate to hate, to hate, to hate, to hate you

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #jjk scenarios #jjk #jjk spoilers #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen icons #jujutsu kaisen megumi #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk art #jjk fanart #jjk anime #gojo saturo #gojo angst

[avatartophblindbanditbeifong]

Bloody Knuckles and Palm Kisses

Miles Morales x Reader

1.4k words

Warnings: blood, bodily harm, crying, angst, Miles being stubborn, & reader being a patient Saint.

“Ow.”

Miles hissed again as you swiped the alcohol-soaked cotton ball across his bloody knuckles.

Miles was seated on your windowsill. A dozen cotton balls, once white but now turned red, scattered next to him while you stood in between his parted legs. You would have him sit on a more comfortable surface like your bed, but there was a strict ‘no outside clothes on the bed’ rule that your parents implemented, and it was one you instilled in Miles, especially when he came over in his beat up Spider-Man suit.

“Sorry.” you said quietly. You looked up from Miles’s hands, and for a second, you saw his sorrow.

It was a quarter to 1 a.m. when Miles abruptly landed on the fire escape outside to your window. Bang! The sound of his body colliding with the rustic metal sounded through your room.

Your body reacted to the sudden sound by jolting upward, prompting you to drop your phone onto your face. “Shit.” you thought. You hoped with everything you loved that your parents weren’t woken up by the noise coming from your room.

It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve checked in due to Miles’ inability to be stealthy.

You got out of your bed when you noticed Miles’ state. You swiftly padded over to the window, tucked your fingers under the metal and pushed it up quickly. Something about his body, he looked tangled in the position he landed in, the slight red smears across his skin glistened; the sounds he emitted were those of a wounded animal.

When you stepped outside, you were looking at Spider-Man, but all you could truly see was a beat-up teenager looking for solace in something familiar.

And that was you.

“Here,” You cupped your hands together, “give me the cotton balls.” Miles then picked up one scarlet ball and placed it in your palm.

Then another.

One. By. One.

He did this for each cotton ball.

Into the palms of your hands.

Until they were full.

Miles let out a deep sigh when you turned your back to him, throwing away the blood shed he wore on his body just moments ago into the trash bin. When you looked over your shoulder, Miles was slouched over, leaning on his knees with his head in his hands. His mask was abandoned on the windowsill next to him.

You made your way beside him. “You did good today, y’know.”

He scoffed.

You let out a deep breath. You knew no amount of assurance would help ease Miles’ disappointment.

“You did the best you could, baby.” He lifted his head, staring into your eyes.

“You weren’t there Y/n,” His eyes were half lidded and his eyebrows frowned; he looked tired. The slight downturn of his mouth made him look like the most grief-stricken boy in the world. “I was there, and I-” he swallowed. “I could’ve done more,” he picked up his mask and held it firmly, “I could’ve saved them all.” His voice was hoarse and tears formed in the waterline of his eyes.

“People lost their family; their friends tonight because of me, because I couldn’t get the job done.” Miles whispered that last part. He didn’t want to let you in on the habit of self deprecation he’d grown into.

“Miles, you can’t blame yourself for every mishap that happens in Brooklyn.” You caught the way he shook his head. “You can only go so far with what you can do. You're fourteen. You can’t protect everyone-”

“I can be both!” He interjected exasperatedly. “I’m Spider-Man,” he croaked. You shushed him as his voice grew louder.

Miles pushed himself off of the windowsill, standing up tall. You looked up at him; he really had grown a lot taller these past few months, you thought.

“You are both. But not saving every single person in need doesn’t make you any less of a hero.” You replied, but he wasn’t listening. Trying to talk to Miles when he was upset was like talking to a brick wall; nothing was going to get through.

“I’m supposed to be the protector of the city,” he continued. “A-and I just let two people die!”

You shushed him again. “Miles, please.”

He paused before saying, “Peter could’ve done it.” flatly; devoid of any emotion.

The atmosphere in your room was muted then. The lack of noise was so deafening you could hear the faint sound of ringing that introduced itself into your ears every once in a while.

Miles sighed, breaking the silence. He leaned against the wall, slowly descending until he came in contact with the floor. You looked down at him and positioned yourself down the wall next to him, sitting on your heels.

“Maybe.” his eyes snapped toward yours like magnets. “But you’re not Peter Parker, Miles. You can’t compare the success of one Spider-Man to the other because you both serve a different purpose. Sure, Peter could do things you can’t, but he wouldn’t be able to do the things you can. And that’s okay,” he wasn't looking at you anymore, you slid your palm slowly up the back of his shoulder. “Look at me Miles — you don’t have to be Peter Parker to be Spider-Man.”

That’s when the dam broke. Miles's shoulders dropped in ruin, and his bottom lip quivered. He took in a sharp inhale before letting out a breathless sob. Seeing Miles break down like this was a rare occurrence. Sure, you’d seen him cry many times, but this…

He wasn’t just sad, you knew this. He was angry. He was ashamed. He was crushed.

Even though Miles had been Brooklyn’s one and only Spider-Man for the past eleven months, he still felt inadequate about being “Spider-Man #2.” It pained you to see Miles, an otherwise upbeat boy, feel so dejected and helpless.

You smoothed the hand on his shoulder across the length of his back and pulled him into you. Right then, he melted like a puddle in your arms. You rested your chin on top of his curls and a thin line of tears welled up in the corner of your eyes.

You and Miles both sat there on your bedroom floor in each other’s embraces, crying silently for two completely different reasons.

“I should go.” He breathed, sitting up right and detaching himself from your hold. The weight of his body left you feeling a lot lighter. When you opened your eyes, they slowly adjusted to the clock on your nightstand; 1:30 a.m. it read.

Had forty-five minutes gone by that fast?

“Stay.” is all you said, and it was all that needed to be said for Miles to do so.

When you let go of him and made way to your closet. You walked back to Miles with an oversized hoodie that you secretly stole from him and a pair of your pajama pants in hand to give him. He thanked you and wandered toward your door. A chuckle bounced in your chest when you noticed the way he peeked out of the crack of your door to check for your parents before he slipped out to the bathroom.

When Miles entered your room, a lot more silent than he did nearly an hour ago, you giggled at the sight before you. Miles was engulfed in your shared clothes. The arms of the hoodie made his already long arms look like those of Slenderman and the pants dragged on the floor before him. Miles stood there with a tight-lipped smile before moving toward your bed where you had already taken place under your blankets.

Miles laid on his side, in the space you had given him. This moment was one of the few times that you and Miles lay in the same bed together. You wanted to lay your head on his chest, but that would be too awkward. So, you reached out and put your hand on top of Miles's. Then, he did something that shocked you; Miles took your hand into his and kissed the back of your palm. It was soft and sentimental, you thought. Miles held your hand in his and set it back down gently between the two of you.

“Thank you.” he whispered.

You felt the soothing gesture of his thumb rubbing against yours and before no time you were asleep and so was Miles. You knew he’d be gone before the sun rose to get back home before his parents woke up, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was that he was there with you.

Safe with your hand in his.

Him tenderly holding you throughout the night.

Although he’d be up and out of your window soon, Miles thought he had never slept so well than at that moment with you.

#miles morales #spider man across the spider verse #spiderman into the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales imagine #x reader #miles morales drabble #gender neutral fanfic #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse x reader #sony spiderverse #miles 1610

[lyomeii]

a familiar face

❁ warnings: yandere themes, platonic relationships, manipulation, reader doesn’t really care about people other than daniel and co., blood (but nothing to drastically)

❁ synopsis: after successfully getting out of the game, you thought that you would live a normal life after spending so much time struck inside that place. however, after years, something brought you back to lookism and this time, things appear to be more dangerous.

❁ request by anon! Hello! this is gonna be a Iong request. can I request platonic yandere dg with isekai sister? Lookis has a game that follow the arc and then for some reason she has to finish the game mission in order to get home the game give her a fighting ability too so after she finish the mission she'll leave the body and the body died after she goes back home she think all that experience was a dream and forget the game but to dg his sister the only one family that he have in this world has gone passed away a few years later she found the game again and get isekaid again and meet Daniel , because Daniel is nice boy he let her stay with him this is when Daniel moved out to his new school. Daniel is the first yandere she meet. Btw reader haven't read the webtoon and skip the storyline in game so can you imagines in the idol arc reader come to visit Daniel then there's this pink haired guy who for some reason creep her out so every time they meet by accident she always run the other side away from him, but it's not really accident because dg keep secretly watching her and his very pissed with the yandere men that she keep attracting ( basically all the looking men )

❁ a/n: this take longer to post :/ but here it is. sorry for being an inactive in recently days, I got a writing block and still having to finish some worlds related to college. and im not so proud of this one, I admit that, I got a little disappointed with this but I finished this since I catch up with lookism, so enjoy it.

❁ could be a dream, but the sensation of the blood running down your nose speaking different. turned out that your biggest fear has happened and now, you’ve been throw inside the world of lookism once again.

❁ this happened a few years ago as you’ve taken the role of a younger, but skeptical sister of james lee and lets say you life wasn’t easy back then. not only everyone knew about your existence and tried to attack you, but james himself brought you along to his meeting with his bosses and coworkers. you become a popular person by many gangs because of your older brother, becoming a living target.

❁ luckily, james and some of his allies were there to help you to getting out of those trouble that he got yourself into. one time, he took off a man’s eye who flirted you and another time, that blond friend of his beat a gangster who tried to pick on you while smiling at you. aside from the typical violence, everything was going fine if you only focused on your school life. well, you do have the capability of fighting others, but you are too lazy to do it and whatever you are ready to join a fight, james lee shows up from nowhere to fight in your place, so it’s really rare when you have to fight someone with a brother like him.

❁ with that in mind, your life was pretty easy. that’s why you live a ‘normal’ life as a high schooler until you got back to the real world. after concluding all the missions and extra stuff, you simply died. it was a painless process (thank god) since it happened once you were sleeping at home. and once you opened your eyes, you were back to your original world, where things went back to normal, at least for you since you expected this to just a dream or something else.

❁ what you didn’t expected is this whole experience was indeed real for the characters. james found your lifeless body once he returned home with goo and gun with food, this whole situation almost made him lose his mind and almost destroy everything in his way, but he keep it himself and requested time to be alone for a while in order to grieve and also to take care of your body. it’s took years to him finally get over it, yet he keeps visiting your grave almost weekly with flowers in his hands alongside foods that you once enjoyed.

❁ he still grieving despite the many years that went by, even becoming a famous idol didn’t change how much he misses his younger sister and would do anything to bring her back. but then he sees someone that is almost a replica of his past sister, you.

❁ once back to this familiar word, you’ve taken a completely different role. now you are a teenager girl who share the roof with daniel in that small house. the two of you have a quite close relationship since you know about his two bodies and the whole deal, making you someone important to him. the two of you attend the high school together while you work at a daycare that your family owns in the center of the city.

❁ life is going great, well if you don’t count the fact that you are struck again inside lookism and this time things are crazier than before. why are teenagers entering gangs and fighting each others in class? back in your original world, teens were less problematic and in meanwhile, you also find out that one of your colleague is a single teenager father, now you babysit for daughter at the daycare for free since she is a cute baby. eli jang tried to convince to you to get a feee haircut in return, but you refused after seeing his previous victims clients.

❁ as times goes on, things get more crazier. more fights, more gangs and now Daniel is a training to be an idol? you really don’t understand how things are taking so fast, but you are willingly to support him at any time as long isn’t legal stuff. and that is why you meet that famous dude, DG. there is a familiar sense around him, but yet you can’t really tell what since you barely spend time around his presence as you have to work and babysit the children at the daycare.

❁ DG thought it was just a dream or a hallucination when he first saw you when handing daniel his keys since the boy forget it. you are a copy of his late sister, the same behavior, personality, appearance and even the same name. he had to hold himself to not hug you out of nowhere, remembering himself that his true sister died years ago and that you are a completely different person despite the circumstances.

❁ noticing how DG might be suspicious of your existence, you talked with daniel about getting an extra job in order to pay to help with the rent, but the boy didn’t let you overworking and promised to help you with anything if needed. he knows how much you work during free hours and how much you care about the others, often ignoring your own health and self-care, that’s why he promised himself to take care of you even that cost his life.

❁ and as more times goes on, you met even more people that you consider to be too dangerous for your lifestyle. the workers, big deal, hostel and the white tiger job centre! you didn’t ask for anything like this and now some members of those groups are becoming more prominent in your life, making you a little anxious as DG has start calling you almost everyday in order to learn more about you.

❁ not counting DG and Daniel, there are guys who often show up either on your job (like eli jang, who spend way much time at the daycare isentas of going home with his daughter) or just appear out of nowhere during your free days (jake kim and jerry kwion, both headaches that are more than willing to help you out and introduce you to the big deal). this two situation are the best if you count of all the many encounters you had with the many gang members that you are aware of.

❁ honestly, you just wanted to experience a peaceful and calm life before returning to the real world. but with the current situation happening, you are sure that will be struck in the lookism world for a couple of years.

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #manhwa x reader #yandere manhwa #yandere lookism #lookism dg x reader #lookism x you #lookism x reader #dg x reader #yandere manwha #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere platonic #lookism headcanon #lookism headcanons #x female reader #female reader #females y/n

[gabessquishytum]

Hob never told Dream everything he did to survive in 1689.

With nothing left to sell but his body, he became a sex worker to survive. It was not a good experience.

When dream met him that year, he felt for hob, got him dinner and a room and they ended up sleeping together. For dream, it was their first time together as lovers. For hob… it was the only chance he had with the being he loved. He was happy to let dream have his body, but hob believed that dream knew and had paid for him with dinner, the room, and the pouch of gold he left in the morning. Hob still enjoyed the night, but it broke his heart, begging Dream for his cock and wishing that it was more than a transaction.

They sleep together again in 1789. Dream sucks hob’s cock and then hob rides him on the table. Dream leaves him with a necklace—a gift to a lover, Dream thinks. Payment, hob thinks.

And in 1889, they fight. And in 2022, dream returns. They resume their friendship until one day Dream works up the courage to ask hob if he wants to resume their romantic relationship. And hob looks regretful and disappointed as he tells Dream that he doesn’t do that for money anymore.

And it’s the first time Dream realizes there has been a miscommunication.

OOO NOOOO I absolutely love misunderstandings like this. It hurts so much but it feels so fucking good.

Like. Dream is beating himself up so hard as he reflects on his previous sexual encounters with Hob. In 1689 he didn't even think about how Hob might potentially be too traumatised and messed up to even consent to sex. With people treating him like literal crap all the time, it's natural that he assumed that Dream was using him just like everyone else. Dream desperately wishes he could go back and rewrite the past. He can't believe that he's fucked up a relationship yet again, and he didn't even know it!

He humbly apologises and practically begs Hob to forgive him. And Hob is just... Well, a little confused? He always treasured his moments with Dream. Finding out all these years later that Dream didn't just think of him as a whore... it heals something in Hob that has been broken for a very long time. Dream is surprised to find himself being hugged tightly as Hob whispers "thank you" and "I love you" over and over.

Now he can get out the necklace that he's kept for all these years and wear it with pride on his very first proper date with Dream. And Dream can gently hold Hob’s hand and remind him that he is loved and valued. No matter what.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw dubcon #cw sex work

[wolfytoothy]

BEAT THEY AHH

This was recommended by one of my bookie wookies @liauroo

No offence to all the Tiffany’s out there😅.

You don’t know what happened, but all you remember is you laying on the floor, barely unable to move, then the sound of an ambulance, and miles face, him saying words but it came out muffled.

Now your here.

Sitting in a hospital bed, with a busted up face.To be specifice a bloody nose, busted lip,bruised cheek, knuckles, and a sprained ankle.“MA, what happened!?” Miles asked, bursting into the room with a worried expression. “ Well got into a lil brawl apparently” you said sheepishly as you nervously laughed. “Did you win- I mean, With who? when? Why?” He asked as he cupped your face. “With Tiffany, during the second period, cuz she was talking through her neck and thinking nothing was gonna happen to her with her stank ass” you sassed, crossing your arms, kissing your teeth as you did. “Actually she got in 2 fights” Someone announced making both you and Miles turn their hands. It was J.B. your best friend. Well about to the EX best friend if she keeps exposing you like this.“TWO” Miles yelled looking at you slightly disappointed. “Wit who?”, “an argument with the kid named Hakeem and a fist fight with Tiffany” J.B. confirmed making you scowl. “Wait, I was just in the period with you, how is that possible?” the man complained.

“Well it all happened when-”

Flash back:

“Ms. Carter, can we please send Miles Morales to the counselor office” The announcements said.

“Yea sure”

The class was in the middle of a group project till he got called. Everyone feared Miles, they had so much to say but couldn't say it to his face. It honestly pissed you off. As soon as he closed the door, Hakeem started to stalk his shit. “Uh oh, looks like mama’s boy needs therapy” Hakeem teased. You could feel your soul shift, “well atleast his mama wants him unlike your ass” you muttered, but just enough got him to hear you. The male's eyes widened as he got flushed when some of the people heard you.

Him being aggressive and never shutting up. So when the teacher left the classroom for a bit, he took the opportunity to grab your desk making you face him, there could be a loud screech being heard throughout the class catching everyone's attention. “The fuck did you say lil girl” he spat getting in your face.“If I can smell your breath, then back. Up” you said in a warning tone, fr about to get physical. “

I was talking to you lil girl” he spat grabbing your face, making you grimence as he pulled you closer. Since he touched you first, it would be labeled as self defense. You kicked him in the knee causing him to hunch over.

“Don’t try that shit again with me bitch, next time your ass will be getting mollywhopped.” you spat.

End of flashback:

Miles stared at you with his mouth slightly open. “W-wait he said huh”. “Mhm, he does it everytime” you admit. Miles was high key flabbergasted, then he got himself. “I appreciate you defending me ma, but I can handle it myself” he reassured. “Baby I don’t give a damn, I’m your twin, I’m not gonna let that slide”,

“You're literally in a hospital bed right now”,

“Miles i don’t give a fuck, I should have molly-woped his ass,and it was worth it”.

Miles was disappointed. He pintched his nose bridge and layed back in his chair. “Do I even what, to here the buffoonery you got yourself into with Tiffany” he asked.

“Actually she had a valid point for rocking her shit” J.B. objected, making you nod. “So it all started a lil while back where everyone and they mama was accusing me of flirting with her man, but literally everyone and their mama knows I’m talking to you,” you started as you sat up.

“Right, so what happened?”

“I rocked her shit is what happened”

“Oh sweet jesus”

Flash back:

You were currently on your way to your next period and that required you going down the stairs. As you took the first step you felt hands on the back of your shoulders and a strong ass force pushing you. Making you stumble and literally hit your forehead on the pole. Gasp and laughter erupted as you clutched your head in pain. “Son of a gun” you muttered, feeling a hard pounding run through your head. Then all of a sudden,someone and their hot breath pinned me against the wall. “Yo, what the fuck-” bit before you could finish ou were interrupted.“ so You thought you could flirt with my man and get away with it weirdo”. You instantly knew it was tiffany.

“Yo wa-”, “Answer the fuck question slut” she spat. When you proceed the information, and it all settled in, you realized. She was really playing with her life. But that fall and you hitting your head on that pole really messed you up, and her just pushing you against the wall repeatedly was messing you up more. “Get your hands off me” you yelped, pushing Tiffany's arm off of you as you clutch your head in pain. And just like any girl fight, She pulled your hair, but that didn’t last long when you grabbed the collar of her shirt and tripped her laying her on her back. A move Miles taught you a while ago.

And just for good measure, and for fun, you kicked her in the gut.

But before the fight could even, you blacked out.

End of flashback:

“She pushed you down the stairs!?” he yelled making you recoil a bit at the sudden outburst. “yes that's what I just said bookie. See now if I had caught myself in time, then I wouldn't be in the hospital bed while the doctors try to make sure I have no concussions.” you complained. “Not you still putting her in her place when you were on the verge of dying” Miles chuckled.

“Yea, and from what I’ve heard I sat on top of her, witch I don’t remember” you said genuinely. “Well that part I do remember” he said traumatized, a shiver going down his spine.

“In my defense I’m innocent as can be, They all put their hands on me first, and it’s technically labeled as self defense so I’m not in the wrong” you admit rolling your eyes. “Sweety… no”

“What, it’s a win win anyways, I got sent to the hospital, and she did as well”

“You sent her to the hospital!?”

“Of course, may I remind you she pushed me down stairs, why are you on her side”

“...You know what you're right, lemme’ go pay Hakeem and Tiffany a little visit”.

“Miles, no”

“Trust they will be dealt with”

#miles morales #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles morales x reader #e.42 miles #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles fluff #miles morales x reader #atsv prowler #earth 42 prowler #miles morales prowler

[saturnsorbits]

Wingman

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Kaminari is an insecure idiot, Breeding, Oral(ish), Light Choking, V. v. v Slight FemDom, Saturnari Coded. Word Count: 7.5k.

Summary: Kaminari has always been the wingman, but with you, he wants to be anything but...

Coming out tonight was a bad idea.

Through some miracle, the whole gang has managed to swing the same night off, a rarity that Kaminari should be enjoying, but even as he watches all his friends cut loose, he can't say he shares in their excitement.

Slouched in the back of a booth, he nurses his fourth drink. It had taken almost twenty minutes to convince everyone to go have fun without him. He'd fed them all the usual excuses – that he was tired, his new shoes where a touch tight, he was too busy scouting for girls and didn't want them hanging around to ruin his vibe. It had been the last one that had sold it, which was ironic. Kaminari shifts to itch the back of his calf with the point of a shoe. He'd be okay here, camped out in the corner with nothing, but a drink and a sinking sense of disappointment.

In the middle of the club, Kirishima has his arms wrapped around Bakugo's neck. His nose is pressed to his cheek, lips barely a millimetre from pale skin as to better whisper low to him. Around them, a steady flow of interceptors try, and fail, to slip between them.

Sero is at the bar. He leans lazily against it, an elbow dug into hardwood at an angle that just lets him hold his drink without dropping it. Already, there's a semi-circle of women around him. They touch him in the absent way one touches something they want to own. He doesn't stop their advances.

Somewhere out there is Mina, too, but she moves too quick to spot. Flitting between groups of people, she dazzles anyone who so much as glances in her direction without pausing to tarry on just one conquest.

Then... There's you.

Kaminari finds his gaze drifting, naturally, until he finds you. He's just keeping an eye on you. Or, at least that's what he's telling himself. He can see Sero looking too, and the occasional glances Bakugo spares you before he's twirled away and forced to break his line of sight. Mina, as well, he's seen it and even though Kirishima thinks he's being subtle, he's not.

He wonders which of them you want. Which you'd let take you home and touch, delicate, against your skin. You could have any of them, that much is for sure, but that doesn't stop the acidic burn that washes his throat when he thinks about his own odds. With friends like his, Kaminari has long since come to terms with always being the last choice.

'Kami!' You slip into the booth ass first and almost, almost, lose an inch of your gin. Righting the glass, you tap your shoulder playfully against his, reveling in the way the muscle of his bicep twitches with the contact.

Kaminari sighs, running a finger around the lip of his glass. At this point, he figures it'll just be less painful to beat you to the punch. 'So go on.' He fixes his smile back into place, erasing the edges of a frown and looks out at the mess of people on the dance floor. 'Who's your type?'

'Huh?'

'Which one?' He pretends to have already suffocated the wisp of hope alight in his chest and forces a chuckle up his throat. He wiggles his eyebrows at you while almost white-knuckling his drink. 'Because Sero'll take you home like yesterday, but he's got metal in his... Y'know, so if that's not your bag you might want to try one of the other two... Maybe, both?' He cocks his head, smirks without the mirth. 'Or, fuck, do you want Mina's number?' His intonation spikes towards the end, curiosity and panic bleeding into his tone.

'I don't want any of them...' You frown and shake your head, moving to lay a hand on his shoulder, but just before your fingers can play against the cuff of his t-shirt, he moves.

'C'mon. You don't have to play coy with me.' Shoulders tensing, he tries to steady the beating of his heart. The small fire in his chest is still kindling, burning hope bright and sure. Best not to let you touch him until it's extinguished then - he'd only be letting himself get the wrong idea. 'I am supposed to be the wingman and all that...'

'Kaminari.' His ignorance is endearing. There's a pinkness on his cheeks that makes you want to kiss them, but you'll have to get to the root of the reason he won't let you get close if you're looking to live out that fantasy.

Unperturbed, Kaminari continues on with each of his words stinging like small splinters wedged under his skin. It's not like he hasn't done this before, helped one of his friends hook up with the object of his desire, but you – you're different. He likes you. 'Personally, I'd say try your luck with Kirishima first if you're not up for handling a bit of a brat, Bakugo can be -.'

'Kaminari -.'

'And Mina! Well, Mina's...'

'Kaminari, I don't want any of them.'

Kaminari tenses. No. Don't do that. He doesn't want you to fan the flames, doesn't think he can take being swallowed alive by that fire tonight. The tone that lifts from his tongue is sharp, cracking like a whip between you. 'I said you don't have to do that -.'

It only makes you smile. 'Denki...' You coo. Then, when he tucks his chin to his chest, you lift it with a finger and force him to look: to see.

'Baby.'

'Huh?'

'I said.' You keep hold of his chin and make him watch your mouth as you speak, enunciating every word as clearly as you can. 'I don't want any of them...'

'Oh...' He nods despite having not digested any of your words. Until... His jaw drops, mouth rounding. 'Oh.'

The tip of his nose has pinkened, glowing soft in the dim lights of the club and his eyes are shining, golden half-moons bright as they flicker subconsciously from your eyes to your lips and then back again.

Cocking your head, you chuckle. 'You can't really expect me to buy that you don't know when you're being hit on?'

'I – Women don't usually...' He trails off as embarrassment coils low in his gut. Once upon a time, he'd fancied himself a ladies man, but by the end of high-school he'd been made aware that promiscuity was simply a dream for him. He'd been the last to lose his virginity and even then, he's pretty sure Camie fucked him out of pity. A familiar swirl of uneasiness whips around his stomach as the ever-present tendrils of insecurity wiggle and twist. 'I mean – Have you seen my friends?'

You snort, refusing to give him an inch. 'Have you seen yourself?'

You laugh and Kaminari thinks he'll never have to listen to music again. 'I don't – I'm not.'

Shaking your head, you press a finger to his lips and smirk. 'Mr. If I hear one more stupid thing fall out of your mouth I'm gonna have to kiss it.'

He chuffs before he's able to stop it, one million dull insults swelling in his chest. He never was good at saying the right thing and people have always been too keen to point it out. 'Gonna be kissing me a lot then.'

'Yeah?' A pleasant warmth spreads through your chest at the thought of stealing multiple of his kisses. It makes your shoulders tight and your stomach feel light.

Kaminari nods. 'They don't call me Dunce Face for -.'

You cut him off with a kiss. Just as you'd promised. It's a soft thing, a barely-there graze of lips, but he reels back from it almost breath-taken. Reaching up, you play with a strand of blond falling from his fringe and wait, patiently for his brain to catch up with the situation. Truth be told, you've had your eye on Kaminari for a while, but when even your blatant flirting at the last squad BBQ hadn't been enough to convince him of your interest, you'd decided to take more divisive measures.

An airy chuckle breaks Kaminari's lips. 'I might have to say stupid stuff more often, because – mmhmph.'

You kiss him again.

'I don't just get kisses when I say something stupid though, do I -.'

And again.

This time, he lets himself sink. He's still not really sure what's going on. Maybe one of the others put you up to this, to make this night one to remember – but, as your mouth migrates from his lips to the corner of his mouth, his cheek, and neck, he struggles to dwell on whatever scheme has lead to him being here. A dull pressure slips easily up his thigh, skating over the ripped denim of his jeans until he can feel your fingers curl at the join of his thigh. Spit sticks in his throat, his hands instinctively reaching out to touch, to curl around your arm and hip. 'I -.' He reels back with a heaving chest. The words tumbling from his mouth before he can catch them. 'I can't – don't – I don't want...'

You flinch back as if burnt.

The absence of your body crowding against his makes his entire chest feel cold, but he pushes on, tripping over his thoughts as he goes. 'I – fuck – Okay. So I think, I think you're... I think you're so fucking pretty, like wow, like holy shit you're – you're incredible, okay, but I don't... I can't, if you...' He looks down, then back up at where Sero is standing at the bar.

The other man looks at him, cocks an eyebrow and smirks, just enough to still seem nonchalant.

'If you're looking for a one night stand or something, then – then you're better off taking Sero home.' Squeezing an eye shut, he braces for impact – ignoring the pain that flares in his chest when he thinks of you slipping back out of the booth. He's gotten a taste now. He's not sure how he's supposed to ever forget about that.

'Kaminari, you fucking moron.' You blink and shake your head, ignoring the flittering anger that bubbles steady in your chest.

'Huh?' Cocking his head, Kaminari is almost wounded by the idea that – should he not feel as though he's just stumbled into something remarkably more serious – he'd be getting a kiss for whatever idiocy has just fallen out of his mouth.

You shove him. 'Who said I was just trying to fuck you – you -.'

'But -.'

'Do I really need to say it out loud? Do you want me to write it down? Text it to you?'

Kaminari feels something close to panic flood his veins as he watches disbelief wash clean over your features. 'I don't – When...'

'I could not have been any more obvious. I was practically falling over you at the barbecue. Kirishima's mums wouldn't stop saying how much of a cute couple we where...' Shaking your head, you widen your eyes and shout even louder over the music. '… You went along with it! I asked you to be my date to Bakugo's fucking award show last fucking week... I thought you -' A dizziness plants itself at the base of your skull. Honestly, you'd thought you'd been playing the long game. Convincing him of his worthiness, of your interest, but now... Now you're starting to think all of that energy might have gone to waste.

Kaminari blinks. 'You weren't just...' He swallows as something squirms in his stomach. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd misunderstood someone's intentions. Fuck, his and Momo's entire friendship is built off of the fact that he thought she'd been flirting with him and not just adopting him as some kind of awkward best-friend, who she could gossip with and put make-up on when she got bored. That had been one Hell of an awkward conversation. He can still remember how sweet she'd been when he'd slipped a hand onto her knee, how she'd cooed at him and apologised for giving him the wrong impression. It had been humiliating. Even if he did manage to swing a pretty amazing friend out of it.

'Just what?'

'Just being nice.'

You shake your head, still somewhat perplexed. 'No, Denki, I'm not just being nice. You ever see me pull that shit with anyone else?'

It feels as though someone has just doused gasoline onto the fire in his chest. Hope wraps itself around his lungs and squeezes until he has no other option other than to haul in a shallow breath. 'No.'

Huffing, you chew on your lip and fix him with a stare, eyebrows raising on your forehead. 'Exactly, and if I have my way, I'll be one Hell of a lot nicer.'

With his tongue stuck to the basin of his mouth, Kaminari summons the strength to mutter a soft: 'Really?' Already his body has broken out in a chill. Anticipation uses his spine as a ladder, causing the muscle of his back to tense and straighten his posture.

'Mmmhmm.' Leaning forward, you plant your elbows on the table and push your tits together. You don't miss how his Adam's apple bobs, or the way he finds himself unable to drag his eyes back up from your cleavage. 'So... You gonna let me be nicer to you, Kaminari?'

'It's – it's a bit of a mess, I – uh...'

You barely allow Kaminari to shut the door before you have him pressed against it. Your hands reach out to cup his face, fingers touching soft as they curl around the back of his neck and thread softly into the hair at the base of his skull. 'I don't care that you haven't cleaned up, Denki.'

He chuckles, disbelief and excitement mixing together in the basin of his throat as he his hands ball to fists at his sides. Static fills his joints. There's so much energy bubbling up inside of him that he doesn't quite know what to do with it. It zips through him, paralysing and energising in equal measure as he loses himself to your touch.

'I...' Swallowing, he leans forward until his forehead touches against yours. It grounds him, combines with the dull scratching of your nails on his scalp and lets him breathe. 'I really – Fuck, I can't believe this is happening.'

You laugh, eyes fluttering shut for a second as you bask in his gaze. You're not sure if he knows he's doing it, but Kaminari looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing in the world. Large, luminescent irises highlight his adoration, spotlighting every inch of you as his eyes flicker from yours, to your lips, to the dip of your collarbones. 'Yeah...' You huff. 'Well best start believing.'

It's a messy stumble to his bedroom, a mix of uncoordinated limbs and hot, open-mouthed kisses. His hands are everywhere and greedy, grabbing at anything he can: the small of your back, your waist, your ass.

'Oh, shit...' He mumbles against your lips, already drunk and pulls back just enough to catch your eye. 'Is that...' Licking his lips he raises a hand to his own mouth and tests the stickiness there. 'Is that strawberry?'

Nodding, you subconsciously let your tongue dart out to taste. The gloss is barely tacky, almost gone from Denki's assault. Instead, you can see it on his lips – the faint shimmering of pale pink that glitters in the low light. If you kissed him again now, you're sure you'd be able to taste it too.

'It's nice.' He chuckles, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

Humming, you wrap a palm around the back of his neck and pull him in close, feeling his breath on your cheeks. 'Yeah?' It feels juvenile, getting butterflies over the evidence of your kiss, but there's no denying the pins and needles that perforate the insides of your lungs.

'Yeah....' There's a smile tugging at his lip. The steadily darkening of his cheeks suits him, makes the cool gold in his eyes stand out, alive and clear, against the burning plain of his features. What starts out as a small fire ignited on the high of his cheek bones is soon scorched earth across much of his nose, reaching to the peak of his chin. The joy makes him look boyish. Distractingly handsome as he erupts into another foray of half-digested laughter.

Leaning in, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and taste strawberries. It mixes with something harsher, the spirit he had been so easily tipping down his throat back in the club; but underneath the tart and fruit mixture all you can taste is undeniably: him.

It's a stray trainer and the edge of Denki's oddly coloured purple mattress that is your eventual undoing. You'd been too lost in each other to notice that the slow push of small steps backwards had run it's course, leaving little room for anything other than a fall.

You go down hard.

Denki hits the mattress first, his back concave, arms stretching up to pull you close before you'd even managed to feel the bite of the connection. He reaches up, brushing his fingers across your cheeks as if to check for injuries he knows you don't have.

'Isn't this the part where you ask me if it hurt when I fell?' You have to purse your lips to stop yourself from laughing, but it doesn't work.

The noise is infectious, making him break out too. 'I don't know about you, but it fucking hurt me.'

Kissing his nose, you carefully spread your legs to bracket his hips and push up, until you can hover over him with your hands denting the mattress at either side of his head. 'Always knew you'd fall for me, eventually.'

He rolls his eyes, but blushes deeper. Cupping your chin, he rubs a thumb across your jaw. 'I never thought you'd fall too, though.'

'Less of that.' Sitting up, you playfully slap at his shoulder before letting your hands skate down the sides of his arms. When you reach his wrists, you take hold of him and list, encouraging his palms to find a place on your thighs. Shivering at his touch, you swallow a smile.

'Touch me.'

As soon as the hold on his wrists loosens, his hands start to shake. Left to his own devices he finds himself torn, eyes eating away greedily at your body as he decides just where to lay his hands first. 'Can I...' His voice shakes, nerves soaking into the back of his tongue as he hooks a finger around the top of your dress. 'Can I take this off?'

Rolling your shoulders, you nod. You can feel the flex of his stomach muscles underneath you as he curls himself into a half-crunch to reach you. His hands skate across your shoulders, fingers catching on the thin material of the straps as he gently, slowly, encourages them down your arms.

There's something caught in his throat as he watches the material slide. It slinks down your skin, stretching around the width of your shoulders before coming back together when you pinch your elbows in towards your core.

You let the material bunch around your waist, exposing your chest to the air as you perch In his lap. Already, the cold has your nipples pebbling, rising to the air as the faint buzz of arousal continues to make a mockery of your nervous system.

'Sh – Shit.' He breathes. His hands twitch into the air automatically, rising to hover over the ruched material of your dress. There's a desperation in his fingertips, a burning itch that has his ligaments twitching as he attempts to commit every inch of your body to memory.

'Hey...' Huffing air out of your nose, you press your palms to his. His fingers slot between yours easily, allowing you to squeeze tightly once before retracting your touch. Tensing your fingers, you don't have to encourage him much before he's taking a firm hold of your chest and smoothing his thumbs across the apex of your tits.

A shaky breath bullies it's way from Kaminari's mouth, the dull click of his throat audible as he swallows down the groan vibrating through his chest. 'You're... Why're you, so – so soft?..'

You chuckle, the noise bouncing your chest in his hands as he continues to slowly explore your skin. 'I moisturise.'

At that, a laugh breaks through the lull. It's full bodied and high, a giggle born from pure amusement that makes the apples of his cheeks glow. 'Yeah?'

'Yeah...' You repeat and take his hands once more, encouraging him to take a rougher grip of you. ''m soft here.' Pressing his palms up, you let your chest spill into his hands, but before he can even think about taking a hold of you, you're moving him on. '...And here.'

Next, you skate his hands down your sides making him feel the swell of your curves as your waist gives way to the shape of your hips. 'But...' Biting your lip, you hook your thumbs below his palms and lift, forcing him to venture across the bunched material of your dress until you can nestle one of his hands against your thigh and the other, square over the mound of your cunt. 'I think I'm the softest here.'

Denki moans. Even through the sheer lace of your underwear he can feel how wet you are. It warms the pad of his thumb, making his skin tingle as he presses just so against the raw bud of your clit.

You jolt, even the gentle touch of his thumb making your cunt clench with anticipation. Humming under your breath, you let go of his hand to tug at the collar of his shirt. 'Off... C'mon, it's not fair.' You're whining now, hips moving in the smallest circles you can manage against his stationary pressure.

'Hmm?' Mesmerised by your sudden neediness, he has to shake his head to bring his brain back online for long enough to process your request; but as soon as he does, he's sitting up and almost unseating you in his haste to get rid of his shirt. He yanks at the back of the material, hoisting it over his head and tossing it as far as he can manage. Curling his spine, he blinks up at you with hazy golden eyes and offers you an expectant smile. It twitches the corner of his mouth, pulling his lips into an expression that almost shows his teeth.

'That better?'

You nod and lift your hands to his shoulders. His skin, now bare, is warm under your palms. The lean muscle tangled over his bones is firm and yet, soft; moving delicately under your touch with each of his unsteady inhales. Your eyes eat at him greedily, at the surprising broadness of his shoulders, the cleft of his chest and the neat rolls of his stomach as he bends.

Shifting, he feels chews on the edge of his lip. 'W- What?'

'Nothing...' You smile, pulling your eyes back up to his. 'Just looking at you.'

'Why?'

Lifting a hand, you smooth your knuckles down his cheek. 'Because you're pretty...'

He blushes. Bright red blooms on the tips of his cheek bones and runs like a river down his face until almost his entire chest is flushed.

'… And,' you smirk. 'I think you're going to look even prettier when you're inside me.'

A strangled whimper leaves his throat. It catches behind his Adam's apple, clicking audibly in the new dull silence of the room. His hands lift, fingers digging crescents into the fat of your thighs as he tries to stop his hips from rutting up and into the softness of your cunt.

'You like the idea of that?' Using your thumb, you pull down his lip, exposing gum. 'Like the idea of being inside of me. You wanna fill me up, huh?'

He nods.

'Words.'

'Y – Yeah. Fuck, yeah... Wanna, wanna fuck you.' His grip tightens, eyes unable to be torn away from yours. Grinding down, he shifts his ass further into the mattress, trying and failing to slink away from your heat.

'Good boy.' You kiss him softly, letting him whine into your mouth, but before he can lurch forward and deepen the kiss, you're pulling back and shimmying off of his lap.

For a moment, he attempts to move with you. His head follows, lips still pursed and searching even as you almost clear his knees, but all too soon there's the obvious indents of your fingers in his chest stopping him.

Your hands fiddle with the button of his jeans, making quick work until you're able to slip your hands under the waistband. 'Lift your hips.'

He does, complying easily as you rid him of the offending material. Resting himself on his elbows, he watches as you drop the clothing off the end of the bed and lean back just enough to snake your way out of your dress. He licks his lips. Your body twists, exposing the rough curves of your hips as you shimmy to reposition yourself on the bed. The plush fat of your breast swaying, nipples flat in a way that makes him want to taste them, to feel them plump on his tongue.

Holding onto the small amount of cognition that he still possesses, he uses it to drink in the sight of you perching over his hips.

Lowering yourself onto your elbows at either side of pelvis, you feel your skin prickle under his gaze. Burning suns threaten to scorch your skin as he devours you, eyes everywhere, committing even your most unattractive details to memory. It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable and powerful, having him so captivated without even a touch. Shivering against his gaze, you dip your head and, while keeping your eyes on his, lick a long, thick stripe across the hardness straining against his boxers.

It's like he's just been shocked. Two million vaults course up through his legs with a violence that makes his eyes roll. His cock twitches, jumping against your touch even as you pull away. 'Not... Fuck, that's not fair.'

'No?' You cock your head and purse your lips, pressing the softest of kisses to his covered head.

'No: fuck.' Stretching out his shoulders, he tries to loosen the tension quickly building in his stomach. The last thing he wants is to paint the insides of his boxers and become the latest laughing stock of your friends. Clamping shut his eyes, he breathes deep, but his breathe is stolen again too soon when he feels your tongue press hard against his cock again. Reaching down, he catches hold of the front of your throat.

'That's not going to make me stop, baby.' You laugh, lowering your head again and pushing your throat against his palm. 'If anything, it's going to make me tease you more.'

The rough pads of his fingers dig in for a moment, half-crescents threatening to mark your throat as he tests his grip before releasing you. Rocking his head back onto the pillow, he feels the elastic of his boxers pull from his hips and slip until it's nestled below his balls.

As soon as it's released from its confines, Denki's cock snaps back against his stomach. It's a pretty thing. Slight in it's length, with a girth that is comfortable enough to sit perfectly in your palm and a soft rose to the skin; just looking at him makes you want to swallow him down. His head is darker, a deep red where it peaks from underneath his foreskin and weeps pearled white over his shaft where it races its way to the thick copse of dirty blonde hair that gathers around the base. Wrapping your lips around the tip, you suck ever so softly.

Denki whimpers. Reaching up, he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stem the onslaught of stimulus threatening to reduce him to a premature end. His breath stutters in his chest, caught somewhere underneath his diaphragm as he feels your tongue slip over his head and inch beneath the stretch of his foreskin.

Moaning, you bob slowly on his cock swallowing barely an inch before he's pushing his ass into the mattress and trying to scramble away.

'Shit. Hang on, hang on...' Hand shooting down, he grips the base of his cock with an almost bruising pressure while still wriggling backwards. 'Don't wanna... I don't -.' His breath comes out in pants, his chest caving in with each shaky inhale as he prays for his body not to betray him.

'Are you okay?' Wiping your lip, you sit up and cock your head. You're about to reach for him voice dripping with concern when he peaks open an eye to stare at you.

A dull laugh skips from his tongue when he takes in the confusion lacing your features, allowing him enough air to splutter out a broken: 'Was... Fuck, wasn't going to last.'

'I barely touched you -.'

'Guess I just find you that hot, huh?' With his pulse steadying, he chances a steady stroke of his cock gathering both pre-cum and spit in the twist of his fist. 'You, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?'

Settling back over his hips, you reach for the hand not wrapped around his cock and interlace your fingers before guiding him to your hip. It takes a simple hook of your finger before the heat of your cunt is exposed, underwear unceremoniously tugged aside to allow you to reposition Denki's hand beneath you. 'You have no idea, either.'

The first grind of your cunt across his knuckles has him sucking in breath. Each bone catches against your clit, coating him in your arousal as soft moans begin to leak from your mouth. It makes his stomach twist, his cock twitching in his hand as he feels your need grow large enough to match his own. 'I – I think I'm getting one.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah.' He swallows. The edges of his vision swim, growing blurry as he struggles to comprehend you grinding on his hand and soaking his lap. Even with the tension still around the base of his cock, he can feel it twitch in his hand, desperate to feel the sweet recess of your cunt. 'I'm... Fuck, I'm not gonna...'

You cock your head, a smile playing at your lip as he trips over his words. 'C'mon, use your words.'

Groaning, he rocks his head back on his shoulders before fixing you with a needy gaze. He speaks quickly, with barely a breath between words as if there isn't even enough time for him to finish his sentence. 'If... Fuck, if you're serious about wanting to sit on my cock, you're going to have to do it soon because just looking at you has me nearly -.'

You cut him off with a kiss. It's immediately deep, needy in its pace and leaves both of you panting when you finally pull away. Resting your nose against his, you whisper into the slither of space between you. 'You want me to fuck you, baby?'

He nods.

'Words.'

'Fuck, yeah. Yeah. I want you – shit, want you so bad.' Twisting his palm, he uses his thumb to gently tap at the hood of your clit. With each subtle moan he earns from your chest, his taps become longer, harsher, causing you to bite your lip and grind down onto him.

Nodding, you cover his hand with yours to inch him away. A smile twitches at the corner of your mouth as he whimpers, chest hollowing at the idea of being parted from you for even a moment.

Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose before reaching between your own thighs and taking hold of his cock.

He releases himself as soon as he feels your fingers close around his shaft. His cock pulses, twitching into your hold as you give him a single cursory stroke, spreading the pre-cum leaking down over his skin from tip to root. Flicking your eyes back up to his, you feel the dull thrum of arousal beating in your cunt as you watch his lips drop open even with the little friction you've allowed him. 'Look at you... You're almost as wet as me.'

A blush blooms high on his cheeks, his eyes blowing almost black; turning his eyes into a solar eclipse. His mouth moves, but the words stick in his throat – leaving nothing but a moan able to escape as he nods in agreement.

Wiggling your hips, you shift back and line him up. You're dripping, skin shining with slick as you slowly, slowly, lower yourself down onto his cock.

Immediately, his hands clamp solid around your waist. His eyes roll back, eyelids fluttering as he huffs. You feel divine, hot and wet and squeezing him so tightly that it's hard for him to focus. The edges of his vision blur, his head swimming even though you've barely taken an inch of him. 'Shit, shit... Fuck -.'

'You feel so good.' You finish his sentence for him. His cock forces you to stretch around him, opening you up as you continue to sink down onto him. It's a mild presence, but one that manages to press up on every single nerve inside of you making you want to cry out. Your thighs shake, hands reaching forward to splay over his chest to steady yourself as you finally bottom him out. The nest of blond pubic hair at his base tickles against your clit, causing you to gasp and roll your hips, searching for more.

'I -.' Trying to pull his head from the pillow, Denki stares through the haze of his eyes. 'I'm not gonna last.' His grip tightens on your waist, a new desperation crawling into his voice as he almost whispers... 'Wanna – fuck, wanna make you feel good though.'

'Yeah?' Lifting yourself, you sink back down onto him with ease and shiver against the flare of pleasure that twists your stomach up into knots.

'Please...' Denki's throat is raw, tightening around his plea.

Desperation fills his chest as he watches the point at which you're joined. His eyes fixate on it. On where your body stretches for him, cunt open and drooling as you take him with ease; the flushed bud of your clit twitching each time you manage to impale yourself just right. 'Please...' He tries again, voice still warbling. 'Please, cum on my cock. Please – I wanna, wanna see, wanna feel – please...'

You chuckle, lifting one of your hands from his wrists to stroke your knuckles down his cheek. 'Look at you, begging so pretty...'

'Please -.'

Nodding, you straighten up and roll your shoulders back. For a moment you stay still, letting the taught pleasure simmer inside you until it settles. Your cunt has slicked his skin, making the soft rose flesh shine in the low light of his bedroom. The sight does something funny to your stomach, making it twist and bubble. Clenching your hands, you beckon him to hold you.

There's something impossibly grounding about the way you lace your fingers with his. His palms face upwards, providing a platform for you to press against and he's forced to tense his biceps as you use him as leverage to bounce. 'Oh, shit.' Pleasure flares through his body like wild-fire, making him cling to your hands and his clamp shut his eyes.

'Look at me.' Your voice is soft, although, if he were to listen close, he'd be able to hear a similar desperation to the one that infests his own. 'D-Denki, look at me.'

He obeys immediately. His gaze is hazy. His focus shattered as he looks from your eyes, to your lips, to where your cunt swallows him and back again.

'Want you to watch.' You whisper, causing his eyes to widen.

Nodding, he lifts his hips, fucking up into you just enough to have you teetering on the edge of bliss. He can feel it, how close you are. It's in the tightness, in the way your cunt squeezes him and pulses. You look like a vision, your skin flushed, with sweat beginning to dew along the line of your collarbones and your eyebrows drawn up making your features stretch with pleasure. His heart stutters in his chest, betraying the swirling emotions that threaten to make this mean a whole lot more than just sex.

''m close.' You stutter over your words, so close to your own end that you can almost taste it, but it isn't until you see the soft mouthing of Kaminari's continued begging that you finally feel yourself hit free-fall. His eyes are glued to yours, making you feel observed and worshipped all at once as the entirety of your body lights up like a sparkler.

Kaminari has seen a lot of great things in his middling twenty-seven years on this planet, but watching you come undone on top of him drops itself clear at the top. Ignoring his own nearing end, he attempts to commit every inch of you to memory as he feels you tumble over the end, once and for all.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Your cunt pulses, thighs and stomach tensing violently as each wave of pleasure threatens to black out your vision. With each ebb, another dull thrust of Kaminari's cock brings back that same crashing pleasure. You're not sure if you cry out, not sure if you call his name – your ears are full of static, your eyes clouded as you remain air born into bliss.

'Did -.' Swallowing around the spit pooled in his mouth, Kaminari still can't pull his eyes away from you. 'Did I do good? Did I?'

Coming back to your body feels strange. There's a lightness in your bones and a burn in your muscles that screams satisfaction, but that still doesn't stop the fire churning in your stomach once your eyes clear enough to see him. He's close to tears, flushed and needy with his hips still grinding up unable to stop as your cunt continues to milk him. Biting into your lip, you reduce yourself to your elbows beside his head and press your chest to his. 'Cum for me... Want you to use me.'

There's no need to tell him twice. Electricity flashes in his eyes as he lifts himself enough to plant his feet square on the mattress and begin fucking up into you. It's desperate, the pace he sets, as is the series of moans that leak from his mouth as he loses himself to the feel of your cunt. 'Feels, fuck – fuck.'

'That's it, baby.' You coo, pressing an uncoordinated kiss just south of his mouth. Overstimulation bites at your insides making your stomach tense as his cock continues to press square over your G-spot, but there's no mistaking the hum of pleasure it continues to force through your body.

It takes barely a handful of stuttering thrusts before there's a gasping 'Where... Fuck, tell me where now Princess, or I'm gonna -.'

'Inside.' You moan, the idea alone making your mind reel. 'Please, fuck. Cum inside me, please.'

'Yeah...' He nods, huffing. 'Yeah, shit, okay.' His hands find their way down to the small of your back when he cums. His palms spread there, pressing down to ensure he's as deep as possible when he finally begins to fill you. Thick and white, he spills inside you, his cock pulsing as he quakes through the last of his orgasm.

Lifting your head, you blink at him as he slowly comes back to himself. There's a warmth floating in your stomach and a subtle ache in your muscles that you're sure will only feel better in the morning, but that matters a lot less when you lock eyes with him again.

He blinks, disbelief and joy mixing on his features as he mumbles: 'You let me cum inside you.'

'I did.'

'You -.'

'Yeah.'

'Holy shit.'

'You liked it?'

'No-one has never, no-one has...'

You hum and lean in to press only the softest of kisses to his cheek. ''m glad I did. You did so well...' Sitting up, you let your hands roam over your stomach and the fat that lives there. 'Filled me so good.'

Many things flicker through his mind then, none of them savoury. The way you're sat, straight with a subtle curve to your spine, makes your stomach stick out slightly. So much so, that if he where to squint and let his mind wander, he could almost believe that you were... Kaminari's cock twitches.

'Are you getting hard again?' You cock an eyebrow.

He swallows. 'Maybe?'

'Because of?..'

This time, he has the decency to blush, but he doesn't dare lie. He nods, biting down on his lower lip. 'I think I just discovered a new kink?'

'Hmm.' Purring, you rock your hips against him and feel his cock give another valiant twitch. 'Maybe you should breed me again, just to make sure it took, then?'

Kaminari short circuits. His eyes shimmer in the dark, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he tries to calm himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders just what the Hell he did to ever catch your eye.

'Would you like that?'

Sitting up, he wraps his arms around you before twisting and tossing you back to the mattress. He looms over you, an elbow beside your shoulder as his other hand travels down your body and graces the mound of your cunt to play with your clit. Lingering there for a moment, he slips lower and collects the spend that has leaked from you with his fingers before gently pushing it back inside you. 'Yeah...'

Curling his fingers, he makes you arc off the bed as he rubs at your G-spot. 'I'd like that a lot.'

Denki rubs the sleep from his eyes and yawns. There's a pleasant ache in his limbs when he stretches his arms above his head, his toes pointing underneath the duvet as he rocks his head back on his pillow.

His movement jostles you, causing you to open your eyes and squint against his smile.

'You're still here.' He beams.

You respond as if it's obvious, as if there wasn't any remote possibility of you leaving in the middle of the night. 'I am.' Wriggling closer to him, you ignore the dampness still lingering between your thighs from an entire night spent together and lift your leg over his knee.

It still feels surreal as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and uses his thumb to stroke at the skin there, carving unknowable shapes into your muscle. He's longed for this, for you, for longer than he can remember and yet, if he had only seen past his own insecurity... Who knows how long he could have indulged in your body for? How long he could have made you moan and made you breakfast and seen what you looked like at seven in the morning when the sun was in your eyes?

'So, do you believe me now?' You blink at him and smile, resting your head against the turn of his collarbone.

'What?'

Running a finger down the cleft of his chest, you tap out a tune against his sternum. 'That I only want you, silly.'

There's no evidence of yesterday's former ignorance lingering on his features when he stares back at you, only the something close to happiness and the faint shimmer of mischief. 'Eh...' Taking your hand from his chest, he lifts it to his mouth and presses a series of kisses across your knuckles.

The gesture makes you giggle, but before you can lose yourself to his sweetness, he's twisting your hand and pressing your palm to his skin once more. You let him guide you, letting him encourage you down over his chest and past his stomach. You let him push onward, even when you already know exactly where he's heading.

'I think I might need more evidence.' He mumbles as your fingers slip through his pubic hair and make his skin tingle. Already his cock his half hard and swelling fast, just at the mere thought of your hand wrapping around it.

'Yeah, you think so, huh?' Biting your lip, you wait until the breath catches in the back of his throat to stop his onward march.

He swallows.

Sitting up on an elbow, you tilt your head and press a kiss to his mouth, before whispering against his lips. 'Then, maybe my mouth will be better at convincing you...'

-> Masterlist

#Kaminari x Reader #Kaminari Denki x Reader #MHA x Reader #BNHA x Reader #My Hero Academia #saturnscribbles #saturnsorbits

[milaisreading]

Random scenarios between the manager and Blue Lock (pt 1)

Characters: Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri, Kunigami, Gagamaru, Baro, Reo and Nagi

Pt II will include: Yukimiya, Otoya, Hiori, Karasu, Rin and Kurona

Idk, thought of this randomly and I am sorry that it's this long for no reason. Requests are open if anyone wants to!

Warning ⚠️: Y/n is used with she/her. Possible manga spoilers.

⚽️Blue Lock is owned by:  Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Part II

Isagi:

"Do you need help with that, (Y/n)?" The girl turned to look in the direction the familiar voice came from, shaking her head with a smile.

"It's alright, Isagi. The boxes aren't heavy, go and rest. It's not everyday Ego-san shows mercy and let's you rest." (Y/n) said as the boy frowned a little. Shaking his head, he walked to where one of the boxes was and took it.

"It's really nothing. Friends are there to help, and I do feel kind of guilty that you can't rest." He admitted with a blush. The statement surprised the girl and she smiled back softly.

"I don't mind, it's in my contract after all. And besides, I am trying to do my best to make it easy on you guys as well. Being the future champions of Japan is a big burden!"

"Champions? You think we have a chance at winning?" Isagi asked, surprised at how confident she was in them. It warmed his heart knowing there was someone who believed in him even if he didn't.

"Of course! You guys are doing great, and with the talents you all are polishing you will be unstoppable at the World Cup! Trust me." (Y/n)'s grin along with her words caused the boy's face to turn a brighter red and a new sense of confidence took over his body.

"Thanks! I promise to not disappoint your expectations!"

"I know you won't!" (Y/n) nodded her head.

'I promise to get the Cup! Then I will ask (Y/n) out.' Isagi nodded to himself, a new goal already formed in his head.

Bachira:

"Bachira, come on! It's getting late and you need to sleep too." (Y/n) said, trying to get the boy off of the ground, but he wouldn't budge. It was already late and (Y/n) just wanted to clean everything up and go to sleep. Knowing how Ego is, he was probably judging her behind one of the cameras.

"No! I want to still play and train!"

"Is your monster telling you that?" (Y/n) wondered out loud as the boy kept quiet. She already got used to the talk of the monster and in Blue Lock nothing can really surprise her anymore, so asking about the monster came like a 2nd instinct to her.

"No... I just want to do better." Bachira said, hiding a small blush. It still amazed him how little she cared about the monster and acted like it's a normal thing. Unlike all the other people he met out and in Blue Lock.

"You are already great! Bachira, you need to rest too. Wanting to become great is a good thing here, but with no rest you will never achieve it." (Y/n) argued, but the boy still wouldn't budge. The girl thought for a moment, then went to pick up a ball from nearby.

'If you can't beat him, then join in.' She thought, kicking the ball towards the boy.

"Huh?" Bachira thought, picking the balk up and looking at the girl.

"How about this, I will help you train everyday for 30 minutes and then you go to sleep? Is that good?" Bachira looked at her in confusion for a moment, but soon after grinned and jumped up, kicking the ball back.

"Alright! It's a deal!"

'She is all I need to keep calm... my monster loves her and so do I. I can't wait till I win the World Cup and ask her out!'

Chigiri:

Excitedly, (Y/n) ran down the hallway to look for her red haired friend, package held tightly against her chest. She had been waiting for the item for weeks, and she was more than happy to know it came before the U-20 match.

'It's here! Teieri-san was right when she said it will be fast! Chigiri will love this!' She thought, running to the cafeteria where she eventually found the boy eating.

"Chigiri! I got something for you!"

Surprised, the boy looked up from his plate as (Y/n) stood in front of him, holding out the mysterious box to him.

"What... what is that? I didn't order anything." Chigiri argued, his face going a bright red when he looked at (Y/n) more closely.

'She looks so pretty today...'

"I know! I ordered it... well Teieri-san did since she is the one with the money... but that doesn't matter! Here, open it please!"

Confused, Chigiri took the box and slowly opened it. His expression turned into a shocked one, inside was a red knee brace and he took it out to inspect it.

"Where... where did you find that?" Chigiri asked, noticing it had his initials on the inside.

"I showed it to Teieri-san after I looked for a way to make your running easier, and she agreed to use the funds to buy it! The company even offered some personal touches as well. Hope you like it!" (Y/n) grinned excitedly as Chigiri kept quiet for a moment, unsure what to say. He was really touched that someone outside his family cared this much, not to mention it was the same girl he had liked for the past few months.

"I... I love it. Thank you, I will make sure to wear it whenever I can."

As (Y/n) was cheering him on, Chigiri couldn't help a fond smile as he looked up at her.

'Yes, she is the one I want. Coming and staying in Blue Lock was the best decision. I love her so much that I don't think I can hold it in till the World Cup.' He sighed.

Kunigami:

"Why are you eating alone? I am used to seeing Isagi and Chigiri with you." (Y/n) said as she sat across Kunigami, who nervously swallowed his food down.

"They went to sleep, I stayed a little later than usually to train."

(Y/n) nodded her head, sliding her noodles to him.

"Huh?"

"You need the food more than I do right now. Besides, I ate a lot during lunch today." The girl explained as the boy looked around the place, then back at her.

"You sure Ego-san won't get mad?"

"It won't be the first time. I stopped counting the amount of times Nagi stole food from me." (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders as Kunigami took the bowl, grateful for the extra food.

"Thank you... and thanks for the help. We don't tell you that often." He said with a tint of red on his cheeks.

"You really don't need to thank me, watching you all play is rewarding enough. Can't wait till I see you guys bring Japanese football to the next level! That will be exciting!"

The answer surprised the boy and he slowly nodded his head. A comforting silence fell among them and Kunigami kept sending the girl a few short glances.

'She looks prettier than normally... I really hope we stay close after Blue Lock. Maybe in a year or so I could ask her out properly.'

Gagamaru:

"Good job, Gagamaru! You did great out there! The save was amazing!" The boy blushed as (Y/n) patted his back. It wasn't a everyday thing that anyone paid this much attention to him. He was mostly silent and on the goal, not scoring and usually out of the attention radar. Well, except from Ego and (Y/n)'s, who paid attention to him for different reasons. Ego to either point out his flaws or sometimes compliment him in a weird way. (Y/n) meanwhile watched him always in a encouraging and warm way, a way that made him want to do better, show off his skills.

"Y-you think so?" The boy wondered as he wiped off his sweat.

"Yeah! You are so ready for the U-20 match! They won't know what hit them when they see you on the goal!" (Y/n) told him. Her words meant a lot more to him than (Y/n) could imagine, and je was kind of greatful for Reo coming over to pull (Y/n) away for some reason. Gagamaru watched her and sighed dreamily.

'If only I wasn't so silent... but soon I will open up. I just need to prove myself first.' Gagamaru nodded to himself.

Baro:

"Why do the towels smell so differently?" Baro wondered and looked straight at (Y/n) as she picked up the empty water bottles. The girl stopped in her tracks and thought for a moment.

"Oh! I forgot that I am using a new detergent now. That's why it smells differently."

"A new detergent?" Baro questioned.

"You complained a week ago that the detergent smelled bad and made the towels rougher than necessary. After inspecting them I asked Ego-san to switch them out. Thank God Teieri-san was there to help me." Baro kept quiet for a moment as he stared at (Y/n), making the girl more nervous than needed.

"Is that not good either? I made sure to get the extra softening one."

"No! No it's fine, I just didn't expect you to care enough for it this much." Baro said, sounding genuinely dumbfounded.

"My job is to take care of your issues, and you are my friend. So why wouldn't I care." (Y/n) shrugged, going back to her previous duties as Baro sighed and smelled the towel a little more.

'My queen is always making sure I am doing great. Can't wait till I make everything official. She will have the best of the best.'

Reo:

Reo walked through the hallway as he held a box with some baked goods his parents had sent him. It wasn't normal for Ego to allow presents inside, but after the victory over U-20, he became more lenient. So now once a month they could get some baked goods from the outside.

'Where is she... I hope she will like them. I asked my mom to find the best bakery in the city.'

The boy opened the door to one of the training rooms and sighed in relief when he saw (Y/n) there taking notes.

"(Y/n)! Are you busy?" The boy asked as the girl turned around to look at Reo in surprise.

"Reo?! Not at all, did you need something?" (Y/n) wondered as the boy jogged over to her, handing her the box.

"Not really! I just wanted to give you this! Hope you like them." Reo said as he blushed. (Y/n) looked at the box in surprise and took it slowly.

"For me? Strange, I already got the package from my parents."

"This is from my parents. I asked them to get these for you... as a thank you gift." Reo said, sounding bashful as he watched (Y/n) open the box, gasping when she saw the cupcakes inside.

"Reo! This is too much! They look like those expensive ones advertised on the internet! Why would you do this?!" (Y/n) asked, sounding genuinely embarrassed.

"You do a lot for us...and I wanted to thank you in some way. And this is my way of doing so. Just take them, please." Reo insisted, and after a minute or two (Y/n) finally agreed.

"I owe you one." She muttered as she took a bite from one of the cupcakes and the boy shook his head as he ate one too, after (Y/n) forced him to take it.

'Typical... she never let's anyone take care of her. But I will show (Y/n) that she can always rely on me. I will keep doing it as long as it takes for her to realize she deserves it.' Reo sighed, already planning something else.

Nagi:

Nagi groaned as he hid in a nearby storage room. Out of Ego's short neglect, the boy had escaped the training room and found safety in the abandoned corner of the building. He really didn't wish to leave training today, since (Y/n) was there, but he barely got any sleep the past week. It was all because of his ever-growing crush on the girl, he felt like his heart would explode when he was around her, and at night it became hard to sleep because of it.

'Stupid feelings...' Nagi groaned, closing his eyes shut as he heard the doorknob rattle. He groaned inwardly, prepared for a scolding from Ego or whoever it was, but nothing came of it.

"Did you find him, (Y/n)?" Reo's voice was heard and Nagi resisted the urge to open his eyes and look at the girl.

'Great...' The boy thought, expecting her to say yes.

"Uhh... no. Just some old brooms."

'Huh? Did he just lie?' Nagi thought in shock as he heard Reo groan and walking off to a different place. He heard (Y/n) sigh and she walked closer to Nagi's frozen form.

"I know you are awake. Go and take a nap, I will deal with Ego-san."

"And why would you do that?" Nagi asked suspiciously, opening one eye as (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders.

"You need rest, that's quite obvious. I want you to be healthy and well-rested, not half dead. Just go, Nagi." (Y/n) said and walked out to go and talk with Ego.

The boy stared at the entrance as his face turned a bright red and he hid his face with his hands.

'I think I really do love her even more now!'

#blue lock manga #blue lock anime #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi #bachira meguru #blue lock kunigami #chigiri hyoma #gin gagamaru #reo mikage #nagi seishiro #random scenarios #blue lock barou

[unhelpfulfemme]

Padmé is Load Bearing for Anakin, and by late RotS she is the only thing that is helping him maintain his sense of self.

Let me explain ^^.

a) Anakin grew up in an environment where people could beat him, and punish him, and deprive him of anything they wanted, and order him around, simply because they were powerful, and he wasn't, and there was nothing he could do about it except make himself useful as best he can. The only things he can rely on is his own competence and his own usefulness. This probably instilled in him some ideas about How The World Works.

b) The counterpoint to this, obviously, is Shmi, with her philosophy of kindness and helping each other out - emotionally, this rings true, and Shmi fulfills Anakin's psychological needs in a way nobody else does, and he wants to make her happy and proud. But Shmi too is powerless to stop anything that's happening to her.

Then the Jedi come, and they take him on. Why? Because he is good at things. Because he is powerful. He won the podrace. He is strong in the Force. Shmi, who is not powerful, is left behind.

The Jedi philosophy preaches b), but the shape of the events surrounding Anakin's acceptance into the Order, from Anakin's POV, screams a). Obviously there is more nuance to it, but not nuance that Anakin would be able to perceive or understand.

This creates a kind of inherent tension in the way Anakin approaches the world, because over and over again he is in situations where, to gain the approval and affection of his loved ones, Anakin should be b), but what's effective, what gets him where he wants to be, is a). Except, unlike with Shmi and the slavers, the Jedi are kind of both sides simultaneously, in his eyes.

Except there's also Padmé. Padmé, when she meets Anakin, is nobody to him, and he is nobody to her. She is obviously high up on the societal totem pole (though he doesn't yet know how high), and she has little obvious use for him, she has nothing to do with the Jedi or midichlorian counts or strength in the Force, but she is still nice, and caring, and kind.

Then, he learns that she's the fucking Queen of Naboo. Can you imagine how he feels about that? In his eyes, she really is an angel. Unlike Shmi, she's not a fellow disenfranchised person, she is so high up he really can't be of any use to her at all, and she still took the time to comfort him and treat him as a person.

Now Anakin knows that there is a person - outside of his immediate family - who will care about him even if he's not useful or powerful. It's no wonder he keeps thinking about her for years - he's struggling with being a good Jedi, with reconciling the abovementioned a) and b), with his emotions and self-control, with the fear that the Jedi will turn him out if he's not good enough (Obi Wan says he cares - but would he still care if Anakin disappointed him?), so of course he'll mentally escape into the fantasy of boundless, unconditional love from a beautiful, genteel woman.

And then - and this is the crux of my argument - the Tusken massacre happens.

It happens because, in that moment, the stark apparent uselessness of approach b) is particularly salient to Anakin: Shmi had been kind her whole life, she always insisted on Anakin being kind and selfless and helpful, and this is what she got from it, it got her nowhere, it got her tortured and killed with nobody to stop it. So approach a) - a massive show of ruthless strength, PUNISH!! - becomes the only possible reaction for him.

BUT STILL, he knows that this would have immensely disappointed her, and more importantly he knows that this would immensely disappoint the Jedi if they knew about it, he knows that he could suffer rejection and casting out and, well, serious legal consequences if they found out.

From this point on, Anakin's fate with the Jedi is sealed. There's nothing they can do to help him, any validation they give him will not reach him in any way that matters, because he is presenting a facade to them and he knows it in his bones that who he truly is would be fundamentally unlovable for the Jedi (I don't know whether this would truly be the case, but the important part is that Anakin is sure it is). Ultimate imposter syndrome baybeee.

BUT there's Padmé. Padmé understands. Padmé is still willing to see him as a good man. In a world that seems cleaved in two in such a way that he can either be cruel and unlovable and completely defined by his power and competence and alone, or roll over and be kind and let people hurt him (he knows no option c), while his identity is unraveling because he has built it on a foundation of others' approval and he knows that approval is not coming or deserved, Padmé is once again the only true thing in his life, the only oasis in a sea of conflicting expectations. She has seen the worst of him, and she is still there, in a way the Jedi would never be. She IS option c). She is stability. She is something outside of himself that holds together the fractured pieces of his self-image and his conflicting worldviews. Without her he'll fall apart.

This is why he functions so much better during the Clone Wars. This is how he gets to be a good master for Ahsoka.

But as far as he's concerned, the relationship between him and Ahsoka is a one-way street, because Ahsoka doesn't really know him. He has molded himself into what Ahsoka needs, as he has tried to mold himself into what his slavers or the Jedi needed, but the face he presents to her is ultimately a kind of facade, a splitting of the "good parts" of him and the suppressed parts that would bring him to do horrible things like massacre the Tusken raiders. This is where his perception of "Anakin" and "Vader" as two different people originates. For him to heal this split, he would need to see that he is accepted by others despite his genocide, and to reveal what he did is too great a risk because... well, fucking genocide.

And this is, essentially, why Ahsoka can leave and Padmé can't. He cares for her, he wants to do good by her, but knows that the foundation is false with Ahsoka. He knows (or "knows") that she, like Obi-Wan, would turn on him in an instant if she really saw who he was. It's not that he has "attachment issues" that severe across the board, it's that Padmé is the only thing maintaining his sense of self, his psychological integrity.

And this is, in the end, why Ahsoka can die, why she is basically sacrificed for Padmé. It's not Ahsoka vs. Padmé, it's Ahsoka vs. Anakin, because he can't live without Padmé, and OTOH he knows that Ahsoka doesn't truly love him as he is. Ahsoka would abandon him if she knew, so it's okay if he does so first.

Same goes for Obi-Wan: Anakin is so defensive on Mustafar because he is already expecting Obi-Wan to hate him, he knows he did wrong things and he is already expecting Obi-Wan to disapprove and try to stop him, and he is defending himself by striking first so he doesn't feel the sting of Obi-Wan's rejection as badly.

Same goes for Padmé - the presence of Obi-Wan implies that she agrees with him, and that she will leave him, and because he is so codependent, because she is the only truly Load Bearing thing for him, Padmé's removal from his life is a direct attack on his integrity, on his capacity to function, on the only possibility of him being happy and safe and loved. So he ends up attacking her, because her possibly leaving is so threatening that it's equivalent to an attack.

Once Padmé is gone (and once Obi-Wan attacks him and proves what Anakin has always suspected), there is nothing to prop up option b). Option b) has become associated with Anakin Skywalker. There is only option a) - become as powerful as you can, please your master: Darth Vader. Until Luke comes along and extends his hand and shows him again that option b) is possible, no, actually, that option c) is possible because Luke, too, has seen him be awful over and over again and cares anyway.

Anyway, I think this is why it's important to see Anakin insist that he is both a) and b) in the Ahsoka WBW scenes, to see Vader and Anakin integrated, because it's his way of acknowledging that what they had WAS real, that what she saw in him wasn't a facade but something that he had genuinely wanted to give to her, but that the realness of their connection made him all the guiltier for hurting her.

#anakin skywalker #star wars

[aew-needs-to-do-better]

Need I remind you that it was CM Punk who twisted the events at All In and said that he calmly approached Jack and said ‘he didn’t punch anybody’ or how it was Punk who leaked to Fiteful saying that Jack pushed and bumped Punk first and Punk retaliated with a chokehold? He waited until Jack calmly put his hands in his hair to throw a punch. Jack backed up. Then Punk grabbed Jack’s hair in order to put him in a headlock ie not a sleeper. Jack stepped out. And then Punk threw more punches before Joe, Hook, Hero, and the ref grabbed them both. Shit lasted a couple seconds. But not before Punk lunged at Tony and knocked over monitors. And no, this was not the incident that made Tony fear for his life. That happened after Punk’s match with Samoa Joe.

Jack Perry did nothing wrong.

Like it was Punk who leaked that story to Nick Hausman about the story regarding real glass to save face after he went on another tangent to burry Hangman Adam Page. That is why Jack was mad. He leaked a story that made Jack look bad so Punk could make himself look better. In hindsight, I am starting to believe it was Punk that was spreading stories about AEW like wildfire to the press. Before Punk, there were rarely any leaks that didn’t involve Sammy Guevara. It’s no wonder that since then, no story has been leaked. No locker room gossip. Nothing.

Punk was a condescending piece of shit in a company built on the idea that the type of hierarchy where top guys like Cena threatening Gabbi Tuft, then Tyler Reks. That is why Hangman broke script to begin with and what that promo was about. Punk kept needling at everyone backstage and bring a piece of shit. And Page saw the culture change with Punk openly disrespecting his peers and pushing people off of AEW like Colt Cabana and using his position to get his way.

Now I’m questioning Brawl Out. I starting to think that the Elite didn’t kick down that door and start that fight. Now I think hotheaded and paranoid Punk escalated that confrontation after the Elite went to his locker room. If Punk has shown those little tendencies to twist a story in his favor like saying Jack bumped into him or confronted him or threw the first punch or was condescending to him when we were just shown footage that it was Punk who did it, I am starting to think Punk was always the problem. In fact, him getting ousted from WWE the first time is starting to make sense. Punk is a carny piece of shit with a fragile ego.

Tony should have not punished Jack at all. He should have fired Punk from the jump.

Should the footage have been shown? Yes. Punk is a fucking lying narcissist who prides himself on being the realest yet he,under the guise of being some guiding veteran, tried to sabotage Perry’s career and reputation. For months, Jack has been made out like some little bitch and all he did was back away and let some 40+ year old man throw a tantrum. The Scapegoat moniker makes sense. Maybe they should have released it online.

They didn’t mention Punk once. The Bucks have been referencing Jack for weeks now since they started this EVP gimmick. Their angle was to accuse FTR of only beating them at All In because of what happened with Jack while redeeming Jack and welcoming him into the Elite. That’s the story. At the same time, it was petty. Will this convince Pepsiman diehards? No.

And this had nothing to do with WWE. It had to do with a former disgruntled employee who lied. Good fucking riddance.

That being said, this show was uncharacteristically mid. The Jerichoverse should die and Mox, Page, O’ Reilly, Thunder Rosa, or fucking someone should have had a ten minute match. The card was disappointing overall.

But regardless, we can stop creating fanfic about this stupid overblown event. If Punk were anyone else, he would have been blackballed from wrestling along with Teddy Hart. There is no excuse for attacking your fellow employee. If it were anyone else, Punk would have been arrested for assault.

Still would have preferred to see a Takeshita match.

#AEW #aew dynamite #cm punk #jack perry #all in #the elite #young bucks #ftr

[seabysiren]

the beast with many names

summary: the aftermath of near death leaves the team shaken. and simon? he's terrified to find out what exactly lurks behind the curtain of shadows you hide yourself in.

[part 1]

beep

beep

beeeeeep

.

price wakes up in pain and confusion. the last thing he had remembered was being surrounded and shouting over the comms to retreat. before anyone else could get hurt.

he laughs to himself and shakes his head. laswell's intel was wrong. so wrong that it could've costed his whole team. his family.

his friends.

he looks around, his eyes gazing over the way the IV slowly trickles into his arm and the stiffness around his torso and the way his arms are wrapped tightly in bandages.

a door opens. and price squints at the sudden intrusion of light from the hallway. its so bright that it makes him wince, squinting to see who entered.

his eyes widen.

there's rook.

and you look unharmed. wrapped into cozy clothing that held a monotone palette that helped you blend into the darkness. for a moment, it seemed like he wasn't staring at a human. but rather a strange creature who stepped into the darkness of the hospital room.

but as soon as he blinks its gone and your sitting on a chair besides his bed.

"captain." price takes a moment to once you over. and relief floods through his veins when he sees no bandages or casts wrapping around your limbs. the way you maneuvered around the room with ease and grace. of someone who hasn't had one scratch appear on your body after such a dangerous fight.

his voice is raspy and groggy as he clears his throat. he watches you silently get up and fill a plastic cup with water and hand it to him. he slowly drinks while closing his eyes.

flashes of the battlefield cross his mind. of gaz and ghost screaming. soap in the distance working his way closer to where they had been ambushed. he remembers the way his heart exploded in agony and anger once he saw ghost. no.

simon.

go down. with blood and mud splashing onto his falling form.

and then? after that? nothing.

yet here you were without a scratch or a wound to be seen, softly smiling and encouraging him to speak.

he presses his lips together.

"what happened out there?" price finally gains the energy to look you straight in the eyes. and he stares as you close your eyes and sigh.

"a lot of things captain. best be that you read the report rather than hear it coming from me." you take a moment to look at the time before standing and stretching, flashing price a an unnerving smile that makes something deep within his chest wither and shake.

"almost time for your pain meds. the doctor will be here soon." and as you open the door to the hallway, where the brightness seems to fight against the smokey black figure, you flash sharp teeth.

price could feel that something was wrong, but as he began to feel light headed, your words seemed to echo in his head. it reminded him of what laswell had warned about you. "price... be careful of that one." laswell's voice echoes.

and your voice? "don't go digging your grave captain. it would be such a disappointment to see you so soon in the ground."

-

beep

beep

beeeeeeep

-

simon wakes up in a panic. he knows nothing of where he is or how he got here. all he can feel is the pounding beat of his heart as he tears the needles out of his wrist. despite the pain shooting up his form, he ignores it and swings his legs over the bed.

sharp shooting pain ripples from his legs to his chest, leaving him breathless as the heart monitor flatlines.

his eyes narrow as a few people come rushing into the room. a doctor and two nurses.

ghost feels panic. he doesn't feel safe.

where is everyone?

price?

soap and gaz?

...rook?

all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears as he swiftly evades the two nurses trying to pin him back to the bed. the doctor is bigger, taller. all that makes ghost do is tackle him to the ground and quickly get up.

his eyes are dilated as he exits the room, squinting at the bright lights before turning down another hallway.

he needs to get away. he needs to find someone.

something makes him stop dead in his tracks.

a strange melody reaches his ears as he looks around in a panic. its slow and eerie, seemingly straight out of a horror movie. and he is the victim.

the lights above flicker. and as he turns around to look down the hallway, he sees it.

a figure.

a shadow figure who seems bigger than life. something in the back of his mind tells him to run.

but he doesn't

it seems so familiar though.

the large looming figure. the way the hospital lights seem to dim and fade out as it moves with a strange amount of grace and poise.

and as he looks, all he sees is a skull and those twisted horns.

and he flinches as he blinks and it's suddenly gone.

and for once in his life he screams bloody murder when that thing suddenly lunges towards him. and simon closes his eyes and let whatever it is take him. anywhere is better than the hospital.

.

.

.

bang!

simon wakes up in a panic. he looks around. the same hospital bed he had dreamed of. the same IV and needles in his skin and the constricting feeling of bandages and gauze pressed against slow healing wounds.

he looks around.

and he sees you. curled up in a chair scrolling on your phone. you look up for a moment and your face seems to lighten up.

but all he can see the haunting figure in his dream. a large sigh releases from his lips as he leans back and relaxes.

"g'morning simon." you mutter, taking your time to slowly stretch from the small ball you've curled yourself into.

you look at him with a strange look in your eyes before you continue speaking.

"how you feeling? feeling any pain?" you seemed worried, but it almost feels fake. simon can't ignore the way that something feels very wrong, but he can't seem to place his finger on it.

"what about-" you cut him off, looking at him in such a way that it makes him shiver. your gaze is like a warm blanket against his skin as he shivers. it's warm and heated and intense.

it makes him feel like your looking past his hard shell and straight into his soul.

its... almost intimate?

he looks away from you for a moment and regains his breath, forcing it to come out slowly rather than shaky and uneven.

it's a weird feeling that makes him uncomfortable as he slowly shifts in the bed.

"price and gaz have already been discharged. soap's still got a lot of burns so you and him might have to stay a bit longer."

you look at him for a moment more before hesitating. it makes him feel uncomfortable with the way your eyebrows furrow as you twiddle with your hands and press your lips together to form a thin line.

"i can stay here with you. if you want." it feels embarrassing the way that simon is fiercely nodding his head, having not found the words to say anything.

he is eager to bathe in your presence. like a moth to a flame. and you are burning so brilliantly in the dark around you.

the two of you sit in silence for a bit. simon has grown accustomed to the way your eyes seem to glow a bit too brightly for someone bathed in the shadows of the hospital. the dim lights illuminating little for the eyes to see.

the sun hasn't even awoken yet.

and yet simon can only stare at you and take you in. there's a longing in his chest that makes it feel harder to breath. the way you brush your hair out of your face. or when you smile at something you pulled up on your phone.

it seemed so natural?

maybe.

but simon cannot shake the feeling that your hiding a lot of things. he has worries. doubts.

but it all melts away when you smile at him in such a way that makes his heart flutter and his hands clench.

he's smitten.

and you know it.

even if...

there's something off about you.

but it's fine. because he can barely remember the words you spoke to him on that fateful day.

[...]

its price. he's on the phone. in the darkness of his home, sat in his office waiting for someone to pick up.

a glance on the phone on speaker says one word.

laswell.

it rings.

ring.

ring.

ring.

brrrr.

"john. do you know what time it is?" her voice comes out slow and tired, he could practically see the way she rubbed her eyes as she looked at the clock in her bedroom.

"do you have any more information on rook?" laswell pauses for a moment, and he can hear the way the fan hums in the background as bedsheets are rustled.

"what about rook?" price sighs as he rubs his head, his hands on his face as he shakes it.

"something is off. the report shows that rook had cleared everyone. everything from that ambush." he pauses for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing.

"that isn't physically possible. there were over twenty men armed to the teeth. and rook... has only joined a few months ago." there's desperation in his voice. fear. pain.

laswell sighs. "i'm going to get in trouble for this... you owe me john." there's an unspoken agreement as he hears laswell open her computer and boot it up. the faint clicking of keys slowly relieves any tension in his body.

she clears her throat. "i can't send the file to you... but i can read it."

"you've seen the majority of the file when you accepted rook as a part of the 141. but it says here..." she squints at her computer in confusion. "it says they was originally apart of o.c.e.s. the omnipotent catastrophe equanimity squadron." "the what...?" "everything else is blacked out. i... don't think i have the clearance to access anything out." as laswell's voice melts into the background, something strikes fear into price. he looks around, but all he can see is the twisting shadows right outside his office.

and...? price freezes as he hears something. breathing against the back of his neck that makes his heart pound in his chest.

"john?" it feels like he's frozen in place. there's this unbearable weight against his chest as the thing behind him moves closer.

"I warned you once captain."

its rook. "you shouldn't ask questions you aren't ready to hear the answers to..." "rook...?"

price turns around.

and all he sees is that damn skull and horns that curl around your head. your smiling.

and its unnerving the way you smile, flashing sharp canines and a forked tongue. your eyes are the most unnerving.

they have such a hue that makes price want to disappear. beg at your feet. to worship.

and then all he hears is static as everything goes dark.

-

[file update]

[loading...]

[contractors. one simon 'ghost' riley. and one john 'bravo 6' price.]

[side effect. bewitched.]

[status. questioning.]

[in progress...]

taglist:

@dashigriffins @thriving-n-jiving @elowynnlane @lilpothoscuttings

@konigsleftkidney @scxrluxxie @havingnonamesucks

#gender neutral reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #price x reader

[shalotttower]

A Heart Deceived

Title: A Heart Deceived

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Characters: Jacob Seed x Reader (female)

Summary: AU where soulmates share the same marking and Jacob doesn't have to brand you any further.

Word count: 2900+

Notes: soulmates, yandere!Jacob Seed, Reader is not the Deputy, captivity, violence, emotional manipulation, dub-con kissing, scars and injuries description: Reader has a mutilated ear and facial scars from a wolf attack and is not happy about it, a mild form of Stockholm Syndrome.

His fingers are surprisingly gentle. You don't expect it from him, the gentleness, Jacob is not kind or caring. Jacob is not warm, not nurturing, not indulgent. Yet his thumb skims across your jaw with quiet focus. Down the side of your neck, up your chin to follow the slanted line there, then it repeats the whole procedure on a different scar. They had long healed by now and turned into uneven ridges of mismatched tissue.

It hurt when the damned wolf bit you, the next day, and for many following days; the effective and precise killing machine aimed for the throat, and if you didn't twist the last moment, would have succeeded.

Jacob never punished the wolf, it was serving its purpose, while you, you were supposed to think before acting and understand the possible consequences.

The pain could be endured and later forgotten, what could not was the humiliation of lying on the dirty ground and the shiny view of Jacob's boots growing larger until they stopped in the line of your vision. A moment of painful awareness: the escape attempt which failed so abruptly and so brutally had become laughable. Jacob grabbed your hair and shook you like a disobedient puppy. "That's on you, sweetheart. Be wary of the quiet ones, they say."

Those last words sounded as if he were talking to himself, rather than anyone else.

"I warned you."

He did.

Jacob is right, not in everything, but in many things. One can try and deny it, another can scoff, but the bottom line is the same: Jacob is right in many things, and at times it's better to listen. Even despite an involuntary gagging reaction.

Your heart hammered and every single beat of it brought to the surface what you already knew — there would be no other attempts. The paleness from fear or perhaps blood loss must've shown on your face, because he let go of you and crouched down. "Pathetic."

It lacked genuine heat, disappointment, or any emotion. Being disappointed would mean that Jacob expected something in the first place. He pulled off his jacket and pressed it to your face, stemming the bleeding. The ground seemed more interesting than ever, dry soil dotted with rocks and grass blades scattered everywhere, trampled by people's feet.

You don't want to look at him or acknowledge the touch to a small sword on your wrist, identical to the one above his left elbow. The mark is a clean reminder and a binding claim for life. You don't want to see it or remember how Jacob's face twisted when he realized just who you were.

Like someone had slapped him.

A lot has happened; Montana turned different from what you saw on TV and the world suddenly shifted under your feet, rearranged from a little road trip across the states into his territory, his commands, his people. A part of you — a foolish, soft part — wished you could've met under different circumstances, in a different place and you told him once about it in a moment of weakness. Jacob stilled at first, but then kept cleaning his gun. "We're here, sweetheart. Nothing we can do 'bout it."

Could've beens and never happeneds weren't worth wasting thoughts on.

Now Jacob is tracing your scars. He's not handsome, not really, there's too much roughness to the lines of his face, dark circles and untrimmed beard, but... you frown. You don't know how to describe Jacob Seed or why you even bother trying. It's odd to think about him this way. Weird.

Jacob catches your eyes. "What?"

You close them. "Nothing."

He makes a noncommittal sound, then leans in. The kiss to your forehead is unexpected and brief. A lot of them are — quick kisses on your temple when Jacob thinks you're asleep, on your nape when he leaves the bed before dawn. They make you wonder just what he wants from you.

He never expects affection back.

Doesn't try anything further, and you both are suspended in this limbo, neither being the first to break it, nor acknowledge its growing significance with every passing day. One part of you craves it, to yield in a different way, not because it is required, but because you want, yet Jacob doesn't ask, so perhaps it's for the better.

Another gets nauseous. He breaks people. Like dry twigs, discarding the pieces when they have no more use. You've seen his Chosen training until they begged, cried and crawled, their pride crushed along with the body.

There are days you can't bear looking at him.

***

Sometimes, sometimes, you wish him dead and gone from the world, then the mark on your wrist aches like a fresh wound.

"When will you take off the chain?" You ask and wiggle your foot a bit. It's long enough to reach the bathroom, to wander around the quarters, but not to walk outside. Jacob doesn't look up from his book. The cover is worn out and you suspect he read it many times already, military stuff. Strategy. Survival tactics, you have no idea.

"When I know you've learned your lesson."

So, not today.

You sigh and roll onto your stomach. "It's stupid."

He doesn't respond.

It's annoying more than anything. Reason — you're his soulmate, not some runaway cow ready to get lost in Montana wilderness — didn't help and only gained you a blank stare followed by a lock click. The chain rattles with each movement, loud and distracting; Jacob just keeps reading as if nothing happens.

Sometimes, sometimes, you catch yourself thinking that this isn't so bad after all. He treats you well for a cult leader: fed, clothed, clean, sheltered. Compared to the cages his future Chosen sleep in, you don't get to complain. You have a comfortable bed instead of cold dirty floor, normal meals rather than a chunk of raw meat, privacy and silence without old school music 24/7.

You frown. No, it's not nice. It's Stockholm Syndrome, plain and simple. You should be free, away from this place.

"Are you angry?"

Jacob turns another page. "No."

His room smells of pine wood and gun oil, with an undertone of metal. The furniture is scarce and practical. A wardrobe, a desk with a radio placed on top, one bookshelf. Bare walls except for a giant map pinned opposite the bed; you've memorized all the markings on it during your stay. The areas which got liberated by Deputy are red, his outposts are circled in blue. Jacob doesn't talk about Deputy much, but the way he clenches his jaw over the radio frequency makes you think they must be a real pain in the ass.

Secretly you hope they blow Eden's Gate HQ to pieces soon.

What would it mean for you?

These are questions, vague and inappropriately timed, coming to mind. What if Deputy happens to eventually tear the Project apart? They escaped John, escaped Jacob and you were to personally witness his foul mood for two days straight. You overhear bits and pieces of conversations, the Chosen talk if they think no one listens — Deputy is strong and clever. Persistent and cunning. Maybe that's the reason Jacob's so obsessed with them.

What if...

You glance at him from under your eyelashes and rub the mark. They say there's a connection between soulmates. If one dies, another experiences it on a physical level. Jacob said that was bullshit. His brother didn't confirm or deny when you asked him after a sermon.

Joseph Seed unnerves you. Not just because he believes himself to be God's vessel. There is something in his voice, quiet and soothing like the distant rolls of thunder, it raises goosebumps when he starts preaching and you're forced to sit through it. Something in his eyes behind yellow-tinted glasses sends shivers down your spine, very little to do with his religious fanaticism.

What would you feel if Jacob died?

The thought creates an unpleasant twist in your stomach, unwanted bond or not, it leaves you queasy. You curl on the bed. Jacob has reading glasses, you barely held back a snort the first time you saw them propped up his nose. He shoots a flat look from above the pages but doesn't comment on your inquisitive stare.

By now you know when to speak and to remain silent (mostly). He dislikes unruly ones and finds satisfaction showing them just how insignificant they are, how mistaken in every single sense. Weak. That's why you annoy him mildly when feeling particularly brave or in need of interaction, but never play soldier or power. It triggers something which is best avoided, gets people punished, then shot in front of others. Or sent for trials, you're not sure which is worse.

Jacob marks a page and sets the book aside. "What?"

"What 'what'?" You ask back, fiddling with the hem of a grey camouflage shirt. It's way too big on your frame, Jacob likes the look of it, judging by how much of your wardrobe consists of his stuff now that you don't leave the room.

"I can hear the wheels in your head turning, spit it out."

"What would happen to me if something... happened to you?"

You're afraid of saying 'if you die' because it's final, even though Jacob seems invincible most of the times. A mountain against hurricanes. Yet everyone dies eventually and the Deputy keeps winning against all odds set before them.

"Nothing. Joseph takes care of you."

This is news, and frankly not the answer you hoped for.

('You'd go free' was. He didn't say 'I won't die' either.)

Tension seeps into your shoulders without a conscious thought. "Why? I am nobody to him."

"You are my soulmate," Jacob replies, simple as that, like it explains everything. Perhaps in their cult world it does, but not yours.

"So?"

He pats his thigh.

It's a gesture without much interpretation required, but you stay rooted on the bed. Cautious. You've grown familiar with each other after living together for months — sharing a space tends to do this to people — still tonight is different, full with awkwardness you haven't felt since that time he walked in on you changing.

Jacob's stare is intense. Heavy, cold blue eyes linger on your wrist where the sword surrounded by flames peeks from under the long sleeve. You swallow a lump in your throat and get up on unsteady legs.

"So he will do it out of memory. You're family, pup, whether you wish it or not."

With the same caution you sit on his lap, war memories written in pink-red skin decorate his face. Just like yours, you think, the only difference is the place and origin. There's something intimate about being like this. Jacob holds you in place once you settle down, not comfortable, but not exactly uncomfortable either.

"Never took you for a cuddly type," you say to shield yourself from growing unease. "Why the change?"

Jacob's thumb presses to the corner of your lips. "Got tired of those puppy eyes staring at me the whole evening, sweetheart. You can have a closer look."

"I don't have puppy eyes. And maybe I like looking from afar."

"Yeah?"

His beard has a prickly feeling to it.

You know your face will never be the same after what happened. From his point of view, Jacob can probably see where the scars begin in the hairline, then continue downwards only an inch away from your eye; small miracles and such. Half of your ear is missing, a good solid chunk. It's not a nice look.

"Don't touch them," you mutter.

You don't mean to share your thoughts in such an abrupt manner, but these intimate moments become a source of discomfort, like a sharp, twisting knife. Jacob doesn't flinch at the sight, he probably saw worse things, still it feels humiliating being reminded of your shortcomings and the fact that this is your face — permanently marked.

Jacob doesn't stop.

"Beauty dies fast, darlin'," he says slowly. "This here... this'll stay."

He never sugarcoats anything. Never lies to spare feelings, ruthless and pragmatic with a clear understanding of what matters and what doesn't. Only the weak need empty reassurances; his words. You hate this side of Jacob just as much as admire it on occasion, right now you wish he said something else. Beauty dies fast.

"Thank you Jacob, very comforting. Top ten phrases you should tell someone who got mauled by a Judge." You cross your arms, wondering why the hell are you talking about this. With Jacob. The worst choice possible to bring up sensitive topics, or maybe the only one, since there's not a lot of people around anyway.

"I ain't here to stroke your ego, sweetheart. This," he traces a scar, "is a lesson to remember. Next time when thinking 'bout running — think again and think good."

There will be no next time regardless of how he phrases it. The chain rattles every night when you shift under the blankets and falls down with an annoying bang as soon as you get up. There's nowhere to run too, the Whitetail Mountains belong to Jacob, he rules them like a king would rule his kingdom, with iron fist and strict order, and who knows what the local Resistance will do to you if they catch you first.

If they figure out whose soulmate you are.

You're trapped between the Deputy destroying outposts and Jacob hunting them across the region, like a mouse stuck in a corner while cats keep prowling around.

The sky outside has an orange-pink hue, casting Jacob's face into soft light and deep shadows. He takes off his glasses, setting them on the book's cover, then wipes a stray tear from the corner of your eye. "You gonna cry over looks?"

You sniffle. "Yes. I wish I never met you."

He stiffens. For a second you worry it might have pushed a wrong button. Jacob never hurt you physically, still there's a healthy dose of fear, not necessarily born out of past experiences. At times his presence just radiates off in silent waves so thick you can feel them crashing into yourself before he walks away and doesn't return for days, leaving you alone with the Chosen stationed behind the doors to watch over and report back to their Herald.

Jacob leans closer until your foreheads almost press into each other.

He doesn't initiate touch often. Once in a while he lets you sleep on his arm instead of a pillow or allows you to sit closer than usual during meals, but that's it. There are boundaries set, most of them are unspoken rules which you picked up along the way: you can ask questions and be generally yourself within reason — as long as it doesn't border on disrespect, Jacob will tolerate occasional attitude in very small doses; you can request certain items provided he approves; he prefers silence during breakfast.

Never challenge him publicly and don't talk bad about his siblings.

This confession can't be taken back, nor do you wish to, because it's true. You regret meeting him, and it was much better to wonder and guess, create images of a faceless man somewhere in the depths of your mind and fantasize about possibilities. How does one even go back to normal life after this?

(Not that any chance of doing so exists in the foreseeable future.)

"I figured, darlin'," Jacob says finally. His voice lacks anger, as if he expected those words one day or another, Jacob isn't naive or stupid and is surprisingly aware of himself in a lot of matters, of the fact that very little would want to end up where he dragged you and being imprisoned under the heavy metal chain doesn't add to fond memories either. "Fair enough."

In all months you two lived together, sharing food and space, in all months, he never kissed you.

Now he does.

His lips are chapped, dry and slightly rough.

You find yourself going rigid at first, unsure what to make out of it. It's different from what you imagined, the fantasy version seemed more... violent and harsh, less intimate and private. He breaks the kiss briefly and then resumes it again.

Slow-slow-quick, Jacob steals your breath away bit by bit until your head spins, until your hands feel clammy and then, when you think you can't take it any longer, he pulls back.

"Won't apologize 'bout the scars, pup. You deserved a lesson."

Your throat feels parched.

"But not of this kind. Never wanted it for you."

It doesn't sound apologetic, neither regretful, but it is what it is, probably the closest to it Jacob will ever be capable of. His hand strokes the back of your neck in slow and repetitive circles, and in an odd way, it does seem soothing.

He takes you to bed minutes later, maneuvers you closer under the sheets and turns off the light. The window is open letting in the sounds of evening wildlife: crickets chirp loudly nearby, some owl hoots in the distance; Montana smells different than other states. Sharper, wilder. You lie like this for a bit, curled against his side and he's always so fucking warm, a human furnace incarnate.

"The moment I saw the marking — I wished you never met me too."

#shalott fanfiction #yandere #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry 5 #jacob seed #jacob seed x reader

[newtthetranswriter]

hELLO!!! ANNYEONGHASE- ok i'll stop

so may i ask for some megumi fushiguro crumbs??? fluff pleaseeee and i was thinking about a scenario where megumi tries to confess to reader his feelings... bUT every time he wants to he gets interrupted!! and when he finally manages to catch reader and say what he feels, reader takes out an uno reverse card from their pocket with a stupid smile... you can include gojo and other students as the wing people of megs but imma leave it to you!!!! thank you in advance, take the time you need and dont stress about it!!!! love u and have a nice rest after work 💞💞

Word count: 827

Paring: Megumi Fushiguro x reader

A/n: Hey Ness, thank you for requesting. Honestly I think this is my first time writing for Megumi so I hope you enjoy it. Also tried a different pov for this one so let me know how you like it. Have a good day or night, and remember to Hydrate or diedrate. REQUESTS ARE OPEN

    He had been trying to tell you for weeks. And before that Itadori had spent over a month trying to get him to admit his feelings to himself. At this point Megumi was a wreck to put it simply. He tried to act like it wasn’t affecting him, but it was starting to feel like the whole world was against him.

     Megumi had approached you during dinner two weeks ago, having come up with the perfect plan. Unfortunately a certain cursed corpse messed everything up. Here's how it went.

     “Hey Y/n, can we talk for a minute?” He asked approaching the table you were sitting at. Smiling up at him you nodded, getting up to follow him out of the room. Once out of the crowded dining hall he began to speak again. “So, I’ve been meaning to tell-” Before could finish his sentence, the door burst open again.

     “You guys have to come see this, Itadori and Inumaki are competing to see who can fit the most rice balls in their mouth at once.” Panda said in excitement, dragging the both of you back inside.

     While the others were busy watching the two be idiots, you leaned over to Megumi. “Hey, what is it you wanted to talk about?” You asked in a hushed voice trying not to draw attention, silently hoping he was going to confess.

     He paused for a moment, then turned away. “It was nothing.” He said getting up and leaving you feeling disappointed.

    The next time he tried to confess was on one of the days off you get as Jujutsu sorcerers. Megumi was sure no one would interrupt him this time. And he had made Itadori promise to keep everyone busy and away from your dorm so he could tell you. Itadori being the good wing man he is, agreed and did his best. Unfortunately no one could predict what happened that afternoon.

    You two had been relaxing in your dorm like you do on every day off, just watching tv and chatting. He figured this was as good a time as any. So he went for it. “Y/n can I tell you something important?”

     Sitting up startled but curious, you responded. “Of course Megs, you can tell me anything.”

     Not thinking he would get this far he started. “Well, we’ve been friends for a while now and I’ve been thinking about this a lot.” He paused for only a second to collect his thoughts when the door burst open revealing the bane of Megumi’s existence.

     “Sorry to interrupt but I thought you would all like to know that Okkotsu is back from his overseas mission.” The obnoxious white haired man said.

     Upon hearing of the return of one of your closest friends, you quickly jumped off your bed running out of the room. Completely forgetting the conversation you were having with Megumi. Leaving the boy to slump back into the bed.

      Megumi had enough, he was going to try and tell you one last time and if something got in the way, he would accept that fate had other plans and give up. So he cornered you one morning before training started. He was determined for this to go well. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush either, he was going to be straight forward and rip off the bandaid.

      “Y/n I’ve liked you for a long time, and not just in the oh you’re cool kinda way. I want to spend all my free time with you and protect you no matter what.” He didn’t even pause to get a reaction, he just kept going. “I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks, but something always came up. But this is the last time I’m trying this, so I need you to know that I love you.” Megumi didn’t even register all the words that came out of his mouth.

      You stood frozen for a moment. This was a dream come true Megumi Fushiguro just told you he loved you and your mind was buzzing. After getting over the initial shock, you reached in your pocket confusing the dark haired boy in front of you. With the biggest smile he had ever seen you handed him a green Uno reverse card. 

       “What the hell is this supposed to mean?” It was his turn to be shocked.

       Instead of giving him a verbal response right away, you leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “It means, I love you too. Now as much as I would love to skip training to go on a date, we wouldn’t hear the end of it from Gojo, so we should get going.” You said before walking towards the training field. Megumi was left frozen for a minute, not believing that just happened. Getting over his shock he realized you were right, so he carefully placed the uno card in his pocket and headed outside to join you.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro x reader