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saetoru · 9 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy

synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help

contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!

word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)

notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋

he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.

he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses.

what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.

“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”

“you’re late,” you spit.

“am i? i could have sworn—”

“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy.

“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly.

what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.

“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”

“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”

typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.

he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials.

i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has.

but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed.

he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer.

you hate him.

“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”

“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”

“what?” your eye twitches.

“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”

before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.

“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”

“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”

is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.

“you’re an asshole,” you spit.

“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal.

“i saw you post on your story last night—”

“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”

“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”

“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”

“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.

“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.

“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”

“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”

“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”

“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.

—————

like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.

hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished

btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come

i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him

oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)

you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.

okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.

k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.

the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.

wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?

that’s ok i don’t judge

so how bout the party?

i can be ur escort ;)

it’ll be fun!

from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.

—————

gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you.

frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.

he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before.

it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes.

why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself?

gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy.

“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly.

why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.

“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.

gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.

“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.

“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”

“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”

“he has a name. it’s—”

“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”

“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?

“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”

“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.

okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.

he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”

“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”

“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”

“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”

“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”

“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”

“you mentioned it first!”

“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”

“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”

“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”

he is not lazy, he wants to argue.

but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway.

—————

the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy.

gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are.

“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”

“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.

“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”

you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood.

“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.

“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”

you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”

he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can.

“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”

“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.

“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams.

settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.

“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”

he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.

“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”

“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”

you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird.

okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.

“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room.

“what makes you say that?”

“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”

he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.

“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”

“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.

“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”

“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact.

but not so bad.

“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”

“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”

“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”

—————

“hey, satoru?”

“that’s not my name.”

“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.

“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.”

you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.

“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.

“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”

“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”

“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”

“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”

finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.

satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real

#teepods.writings #fics.#rich boy! au #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you

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dufferpuffer · 2 months

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Longbottoms boggart wasn't Snape.

I mean you'd think this would be obvious enough - but people who hate Snape bring it up as their sort of trump card. "He was so bad he was a 13yr olds biggest fear!" No. He wasn't. Boggarts don't quite work like that. Boggarts are not themselves your worst fear - they make you FEEL your worst fear. Hermione isn't actually scared of McGonagall. (I'm sure alot of first years are scared of her though I mean she is strict and stern and a little scary at first.) Did she have some irrational fear of suddenly failing all her classes? Yeah, maybe a little bit - but it is BECAUSE she is scared of not being good enough. From the first book we see her struggling to fit in with her peers. She is muggleborn, she learned she was a witch so suddenly that she poured herself into being the most perfect witch she could.

Professor McGonagall, a stern and strict witch she respects, telling her she isn't good enough despite all of her best efforts makes her FEEL her worst fear. It has nothing to do with Minerva personally - honestly it could probably be replaced with Dumbledore or someone... its just she has far more interaction with Minerva.

SO - Longbottom and Snape: How do I know that Snape isn't his absolute worst fear? Because he still attends Potions every fucking week!!! Do you think RON could attend Charms if it was run by a spider?!? He can pass Snape in the hall, he can sit in the same room as Snape, he can even be teased and bullied by Snape. His parents were tortured to insanity by Death Eaters. Severus Snape is NOT his worst fear, that's stupid. Snape just makes him FEEL his worst fear - like McGonagall makes Hermione feel hers. SO what is Neville worst fear? I think the clue comes with him quickly saying that he also wouldn't want the Boggart to turn into his grandma. Inadequacy. Neville has never been good enough. He has low self worth. The tiniest bits of praise overwhelm him. He never wins any house points and losing some devastates him. He got his magic late, his family kept trying to tease it out of him, thought he was maybe a squib. He has a proud legacy to uphold and he is terrified he cannot. He is the worst potions student Snape has ever had.

Snape makes Neville feel inadequate. His grandmother makes him feel inadequate. But mix them together... and suddenly these two very scary people that seem to have such control over his life... look a little ridiculous.

DO you think Lupin is LITERALLY scared of the moon...? Or does the moon make him feel powerless and dangerous and inhumane? DO you think Harry is LITERALLY scared of Dementors...? Or is he scared of how powerless he is against the horrible way they make him feel - the trauma they bring up from the deep recesses of his mind?

Snape was not so horrific, so awful, so scary, so mean - that he as a man became Nevile's worst fear. He, like his grandma, makes him feel inadequate.

#neville longbottom #severus snape #is say headcanon but no this is just canon #people need better media literacy #heres a headcanon though: Lupin actually is a little sacred of the moon. he blocks the sight of it with his hand if he goes out at night.#hp #hermione granger #remus lupin #harry potter

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killsaki · 1 year

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implode — there’s only so many feelings one can hold in, especially with bakugou blood in their veins.

bakugou katsuki x little sister!reader

6.7k | minors dni | read on ao3

cw / tw : incest, drugging, hinted noncon gangbang, scummy!denki+sero+kiri, aphrodisiac, weed, alcohol, fingering, creampie, reader calls bkg ‘bubba’.

is it hard being the sibling of a prohero?

of course! they disappear for days to weeks at a time—leaving for training, meetings, press events, and then for missions. you go from having them all to yourself, to sharing them with the world. from being their number one fan, to merely feeling like one amongst a million. and there’s so many things to worry about, from them going to work and never coming home, to a villain coming after you out of spite of being captured by said sibling.

those all sound logical answers to the question, normal ones. hence why you’ve practiced saying them so many times in case anyone ever asks.

but, truly, you knew most of those were things you’d never have to worry about. not when you’re the younger sister of none other than bakugou katsuki.

your brother being, well.. himself, was enough to keep any thoughts of danger from your mind. he was too fast, too strong, too skilled, too protective for anything to ever happen to either of you. but this peace of mind only gives room for you to dwell on other things.

like the social media ‘famous’ girls who just don’t shut up about how hot your brother is—which shouldn’t bother you so much, not in the stomach churning, phone gripping way that it does. and you could blame your intense reactions on the fact that you have to see it literally every time you try to scroll down your timeline, or that it’s just weird that your brother is suddenly getting so much attention.. but that's less believable than the first excuse to you.

and then there’s the out of context candids posted in tabloids of him saving civilians, who understandably look at him so longingly, and then there’s a picture painted of him as some kind of bachelor. to make matters worse, said online articles become almost impossible to escape no matter how much you try—partially thanks to your old school ‘friends’ sending them to you asking for all the details to share with their group chats, as if you’d tell them.

to top everything off, your brother, as doting as he is, never has time for you anymore. despite how you live with him, have your own room and bath in his unnecessarily large condo, and even have a card to his bank account for anything you could possibly need—still, you rarely see him. he’s so consumed in his work, from partols to missions, and when he’s not on the clock he’s forced to do press and modeling for whatever goodies they want to slap his picture onto.

and you could never hold that against him, not when he’s been working towards this his whole life. but still, having just a moment with him could cure all the thoughts that hang heavy in your mind daily. just a second to be reminded that your brother is yours, all alone. that you’re the only little sister he’ll ever have, the only girl he’ll ever need.

luckily for you, a day comes that your brother gets a day's break—more like he’s forced into a vacation as he never takes any days off. and he’s able to lounge about, meaning that he’s sitting on the couch in sweats and bouncing his leg waiting for someone to call his phone saying he can finally come to work as if being away from it was excruciating. you could giggle at the thought, what person besides katsuki would rather be out fighting petty criminals than relaxing on their own couch.

“did you hear me?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed slightly as he looks over at you.

you shake your head, too caught up in your thoughts to realize he was even speaking to you.

“the guys want me to go over for a bit. i won’t be gone long.” he repeats before turning back to his phone screen as he finishes typing.

your heart jumps into your throat. tonight was exactly what you’d been longing for, time with just the two of you, so you could reassure yourself the importance of the role you have in his life. so that you could have katsuki all to yourself. so that you could pretend for just a little while, that he’s just your brother again, not the hero you have to share with the world.

“i wanna go too.” you spit without thought.

he shoots you another look, lifting a brow as he blinks at you. “i want to come hang out too.” you say again as you chew at your lip, unable to back out of the situation your loud mouth has already gotten you into.

“no.” he replies back coldly, pushing himself from the couch before stretching his arms up, revealing the bottom of his toned stomach as he does so. “there’s going to be a lot of people, and drinking.” he looks at you out of the corner of his eyes before mumbling on. “and denki’s gonna be there.”

you snap your gaze up to him in confusion about the mention of a certain friend of his. but, he doesn’t let you get any questions out, heading off towards his room to get ready to leave. you pad right behind him, arms crossed while you walk, letting out huffs every few minutes just to remind him how you’re not going to give up. you sit on his bed as he collects an outfit to wear and little things he needs for a shower, noticing how he avoids making any glances in your direction.

it’s not until he’s already fully showered and starting to dress himself that he cracks, groaning as he looks at you.

“go fuckin’ get dressed.” he orders with out any actual malice in his tone. “once i get in the car, i’m leaving.”

your brother is many things, but a liar is not one.

so, you race to your room, tearing into your dresser to slip into that one outfit you’d been holding onto, hoping to wear the next time you’d gotten the chance to go on an outing with katsuki. though, you’d pictured something with more room for alone time, you suppose it would work at a party with his old friends too.

you’d just finished touching up what you need in the mirror as you hear his car engine start up, giving you only seconds to force yourself into your shoes and jog out to his car.

“you stay by my side until we leave.” he looks over at you, while you reach over your shoulder for the seatbelt, his crimson eyes squinted warningly. “i mean it.”

he didn’t mean it.

it’s not even half an hour after you arrive, barely finished shoving your way through the sweaty bodies crowded in someone’s living space, hardly enough time enough to adjust your ears to the shitty music and screams of laughter—something catches your brother's eye, to which he leaves you in the hands of his old classmate. ‘be back in a minute’, he says, pushing you into the red head’s side. but it’s not a minute, it’s been thirty and you haven’t managed to spot the blonde mess of a head, not even from your seat on the kitchen’s counter over the crowd merely feet away.

“what’s wrong?” kirishima raises his eyebrows slightly at you from behind his solo cup.

“just expected to be with kats’,” you huff, fingers twiddling with the end of your skirt. “kinda the only reason i came.”

he nods, glancing down into his drink before peering over his shoulder.

“want a sip?”

you know that you shouldn’t, how mad your brother will get at the both of you if he shows up to find you wasted and slung over his best friend.

“it’ll help you relax, at least until he gets back. i won’t let you drink too much, i promise.”

you can’t resist the small smile he gives. he’s so warm, safe. being with him is almost the same as being with katsuki, almost.

one sip turns into two cups, and suddenly it’s not just you and eijiro anymore. sero and denki showed up somewhere along the way. but, it’s fine, you think. they’re heroes alongside your brother, and they’ve known him long enough to know any better. only, in your slurred thoughts, that voice in the back of your mind starts to hope otherwise.

they’re all undoubtedly handsome, the three of them much taller than you despite the height difference amongst themselves, and all so strong. there’s sero with his shaggy black hair, signature grin and pretty ring clad fingers that grip the cup he’d been babysitting since he’d walked over. denki and his pretty pink lips he never stops running his tongue over, his slightly whiney voice and golden eyes that just get so much deeper when he looks at you. and then of course, kirishima, who’s just so unreasonably big, length and width—wait, that's… not the right words. but now you wonder—

“what are you smiling about?” the blonde asks from where he’s propped on the kitchen’s island across from you.

you shake your head, biting your lips when you realize how caught up in your thoughts you let yourself get with them still right in front of you.

“i was just thinking.” you let out, trying to look anywhere but at kirishima.

“thinking about?” the voice pipes in from beside you, resting his head on your arm as he leans back to look up at you. your heart races a bit when you can physically feel how close he’s gotten to you without you realizing.

“yeah, you’ve been so quiet. not really living up to the bakugou name.” sero shakes his head with fake disapproval.

“my brother’s not that loud.” you giggle, knowing it's a lie before it even hits your tongue. “i was just thinking about how i never see you guys, you’re so different than you were when i met you back at the graduation.” you sigh. “he never lets me go out with him when you guys invite him.”

you miss the look that hanta and kaminari share, how the corners of the blonde's mouth perk up for a split second before he paints on a confused expression.

“when do we invite him out?” he asks, tilting his head slightly when you look up at him.

you nearly mimic the movement when you register his words.

“always?..” you ask, but glancing at the dark haired man and the red head who share the same confused expression, you don't need an answer. “but he… i’m so confused.”

you can only blink, staring at the black side of the fridge, thinking back on the rare nights that he gets off with enough time to do anything besides shower and sleep. how he’d knock on your door, letting you know he was running over to one of ‘the guys’ house before it got too late. he was never gone too terribly long, but that’s just how your brother is. you always thought he literally only went to say hi and came home—wanting to get enough sleep for another full day of hero work. that’s the only thing that made any sense.

“hey, don’t worry about it.” kirishima’s large hand has somehow found its way to rub soothingly at your side, arm now wrapped behind your back.

“i’m sure he could’ve meant midoriya or something.” denki still wears a straight face, speaking with faulty concern.

sero stays quiet while he pulls out his phone, scrolling through something and finally starting to sip out of his cup.

“i should go try to find him.” you go to slide off the counter when denki speaks up again.

“i think you should stay with us.”

the words send a gut wrenching feeling to your core, your body screams to get away, but you fight it.

“why?” you dumbly ask, the smallest bit of curiosity keeping you.

“your brother’s busy.” he shrugs, bumping sero’s shoulder with his own.

the long fingers you were admiring minutes ago faint against yours as he hands you his phone, the screen showing a man you recognize unmistakingly as your brother, dressed in the outfit he’d worn tonight. his arm snug around some girl's lower back, ducked down with his mouth to her ear, the camera’s quality is shitty but even so, you can still see the way their bodies are pressed together. you feel your heart sink, though, you’re not entirely sure why.

you let yourself get slotted back into kirishima’s side, finding a sense of comfort in the weight of his arm around your shoulder as they walk you to the glass doors at the back of the house.

“don’t looked so bummed little baku’!” denki shoots you a grin. “we’ll keep you entertained for the night.”

the air is warm outside, not helping to cool your cheeks that are still hot from the alcohol. the four of you end up sitting on some cushioned benches near the middle of the yard, surrounded by small bushes. it’s much nicer than being inside, but you’re not entirely sure why they brought you out here. not until sero pulls out something rolled and a lighter. you watch as he puts it between his lips, lighting the end and inhaling til the end burns red without the flame. you forget to look away whenever he exhales, giving him the chance to catch you watching him.

“you want to hit it?” his voice suddenly sounds like silk, acting like ties as it’s doing everything to pull you in despite the way your nerves are still screaming at you.

“i’ve never smoked before.” you laugh awkwardly. “my brother would kill me.”

he flashes that big toothy grin, shaking his head for the who-knows-what time that night and you know you’re in for it whenever you see your brother again. but just for this second, you think it’ll be okay.. if he’s busy with some girl when he told you he’d be by your side for the night, then you can have fun with his cute friends.

“he doesn’t have to know.” sero pulls you back to the moment in front of you. “come here, i’ll teach you.”

you’re moving without thinking, giggling again at the way he shoo’s denki from beside him so that you can sit. he teaches you how to breathe it in easily, but how not to take too much. and you do exactly as he says, letting him put it on your lips, you pull in a slow but shallow drag. holding it until he tells you to let it out.

“good girl.” hanta smirks, the warmth of his hand holding your jaw as he moves the damp paper back to your mouth. “now do it again, just like that.”

you listen, thinking nothing of it. thinking nothing at all, actually. you can’t. the flood of warmth lingering in your veins from those drinks that you’re just realising were much stronger than you thought and the clouds now fogging your consciousness, too much to form any kind of thought.

“here, try this.” you hear from the side- no, in front of you. denki’s leaned over with a diamond shaped candy on his palm.

you hesitate, but not able to talk, body already working overtime to remember how to breathe properly.

“it’ll just make you feel good, i just took one too.” he reassures, gesturing again for you to grab it. if you could feel your body right now, you’d feel every single inch of it aching to run. you’d feel that same feeling in your stomach as it started to churn. maybe you would’ve listened this time. but instead all you can feel is the race in your chest as you eye the light blue against his pale skin.

“c’mon.” kirishima’s showing off his sharp teeth with how wide he’s grinning, trying his hardest to be just as reassuring as he was to get you to drink with him a while ago. “we’re your brother's best friends, you know we wouldn’t let anything happen to you.. even if he is busy.

you take another deep breath, nodding. right. katsuki wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

“let me.” denki’s suddenly standing over you, candy- pill pinched between his fingers, a grin just as big plastered on his face. “open up.”

you miss the devilish intent hiding behind those smiling faces. you miss the almost telepathic conversation they all have in the glances they share as you flutter your pretty eyes closed, letting your tongue fall out for denki to drop the pill on. it hits your taste, dissolving almost immediately. you swallow the bitter grainy bits, grimacing as you only have your spit to get it down with.

“give it just a few minutes.” the blonde speaks again, much more eagerly this time. which should alert you, all of this should.

you could blame it on the alcohol you have a low tolerance for, on the weed you’ve never smoked, on the fact you trust anyone who attaches their name to your brothers. but really, it’s because you’re dumb. you don’t think anything bad can ever happen to you. not like this. not when your brother is so close.

“it’s kinda warm out here.” you mumble, shifting uncomfortably on the padding. you feel the heat across your cheeks and down your neck, skipping to your stomach that warms slowly, trickling down between your legs and across your thighs. “think i want some water.”

you slowly push yourself to stand, body feeling heavy as you move. you don’t catch how they all follow right behind you, until sero—no, denki’s arm slinks its way around your waist as you walk. he pulls you away from the path back to the glass door and towards the gate in the big wooden fence.

“it’s too hot in there.” he tugs you again when you weakly attempt to pull away. “kirishima’s place isn’t too far from here. we can just hang out there while you cool off.”

you shake your head, mind racing to how badly you just want something to drink, and to be with katsuki. mentally cursing out the stupid girl in that picture for taking your brother away from you, for stealing his attention when you’re the one who needs it. and you curse yourself, for not listening to his warning when he said denki would be here.

“denki.” you drag your feet, doing anything to attempt a fight against the push of his much stronger hands. “what was that? the…” it’s hard to think, even harder to push those thoughts into words and say them aloud “the pill. what’d you give me?”

“i told you,” he smirks, glancing behind you and nodding one of the men over. “it’s just to make everything feel better.” stepping aside, kirishima’s heavy arm replaces denki’s, locking you under it and forcing you forward. your heart races at all the implications that could have. you don’t even notice you’re shaking until he wraps his other arm around you, bending his head down to graze the shell of your ear, whispering into it

“it’ll make things easier,” something about his tone makes you want to vomit. “just don’t think about it, pretty.”

“don’t get too friendly, dude, i’m the one who set this up.” denki bites, pulling his keys out as the four of you near a car. “there’s no way you get first.”

sero snickers again, sighing as kiri opens his mouth to snide back about how he’s been waiting two years and that you should at least get to pick that much. you can’t really make it out anymore, all you can hear is your own heartbeat banging in your ears.

you try and struggle out of his hold, which only makes them all laugh in turn and your heart falls into your stomach. you’re with pro heroes, if anything bad is going to happen to you here, at their hands, there's no way you’re going to fight your way out of it.

sero’s fingers wrap around the handle of the car’s back door when the voice booms out your name down the small hill the house is sitting on.

you can physically feel kirishima tense up and his heart start to race, you can hear the way sero and denki stop breathing in unison. you can even picture the way they all freeze without having to look, you can imagine the absolute fear in their face as they stand there, gaping at your brother.

his red eyes dig into you before taking a second to glance at the men around you.

“why do you look so fucked up?” he barks out, brows furrowing deeper with each step he takes towards you. “where the fuck were you guys about to go?”

he’s eyeing kirishima now, tugging you by your wrist out of the red head’s hold and into his own, gripping you as if he lets go, you'll get stolen away.

“she said it was hot in there.” kirishima shrugs awkwardly, face stiff.

“and who the fuck said you could take her anywhere?” bakugou tilts his head face twisted dumbfoundedly at the boldness his old friend suddenly seems to have.

“my place is just up the street she wanted to—“

“and why the fuck do you have her around denki?” you can feel bakugou’s skin grow hotter to the touch with each word he spits. or maybe it's you that’s getting hotter. god, it’s fucking hot.

“i didn’t drive.” he shrugs again, breaking eye contact to look over at the other blonde.

“she’s not a baby bakugou, she can be around whoever she wants.” kaminiari says smugly, like the idiot he is.

“i’ll kill you.” your brother doesn’t hesitate with this threat, and it wipes the smile off denki’s, raising his hands slightly in defence.

you use the hold he has on you to wrap your arm around his, feeling a great sense of relief pressed against him.

“he didn’t touch you did he?” katsuki’s voice is still gruff when he talks down to you, but you don’t mind it.

you know that he did technically touch you, but not enough to hurt anything. and if you answer truthfully it’ll just drag this out even longer, and all you want is to be wrapped around him. so, you shake your head, and you hope he doesn’t hear the way they all sigh in relief.

your brother doesn’t say anything else, just pulls you away towards where he’d parked. the second he turns around, you peek back at the men. kirishima has his head tossed back, hand over his chest as he takes in a deep breath, sero, leaned against the car shoulders shaking with laughter while denki curses and slams the driver side door shut.

“i’m hot katsu’” you whine when he unlocks the door for you.

“how much did he let you drink?” he scoffs, leaning across you and buckling your seatbelt for you as if you’re unable.

you huff, watching his strong arms reach over your body. his warm chest coming down to press into yours, that you find is so sensitive. so much so that a small whine escapes your throat before you’re able to register it he’s already pulled back looking down at you. one hand on the top of the car as he leans over, eyebrows pinched together.

“‘m just hot, bubba.” you assure, face burning in embarrassment and whatever else was setting your body on fire.

he immediately blasts the AC as soon as the car is on, and in the second that it satiates the burning under your skin, you remember.

“who was the girl?” you question, voice somewhere between shaking and slurring. you shouldn’t be asking, there’s no reason for you to do this right now—or at all. “the one you left me to go see.”

katsuki just stares ahead for a second before his jaw tightens.

“and where did you see me with a girl?” he asks blankly, like he already knows the answer.

“sero had a picture. they said you were busy, that’s why i stayed with them.” you answer truthfully, hoping he’d driven far enough to not want to turn back.

“i didn’t know her, sero at introduced us.” he scoffs, scowl resting on his face as he keeps his eyes focused on the drive.

the heat begins to dig into you again, the cool blow the ac’s aid only a temporary fix.

“why? why didn’t you come look for me? text me?” he asks, his short fuse burning already.

“you were busy.” you reply shortly, too focused on the ache going on in your lower half.

“and? if i knew that shit face was going to try fucking with you we would’ve left as soon as we got there.” he shakes his head, voice raising only slightly.

“you were with a girl, katsu! i didn’t want to interrupt.” you throw your head back against the cool leather, smoothing your hands out over your skirt, across the tops of your thighs as if that would help.

“you’re my little sister, that’s completely different.” he scrunches his face up as he glances between you and the road, the same thing he does anytime anyone says something he thinks is the slightest bit dumb.

“is it?” you ask.

“yes.” he snaps back.

“so if i wasn’t your little sister, you wouldn’t care?” you mumble, shifting at the warmth you feel start to spill into your panties. “or if i wouldn’t have come with you tonight, would you have left with her?”

he sighs, exasperated.

“what the fuck are you saying right now?” he keeps glancing at you, rushing a reply.

“why did you leave me to go see her?” you groan. “why didn’t you stay with me? why didn’t you wanna just be at home with me?”

he only gets your name and a curse out before you cut him off, the heat itching at you becoming too much.

“katsu’ ‘m so hot.” you mewl, raking your hands down your body, reveling in the momentary coolness under your own touch. you can feel the way he stiffens slightly next to you, but the previous tension is out the window, almost forgotten.

“i have the ac on.” he states, keeping his eyes on the road as you near the building the two of you call home.

“it’s inside katsu, ‘m hot on the inside.”

he stops the car with a jerk in the middle of the parking lot, snapping his head over towards you.

“what did they give you?” his question is sharp, voice filled with anger once again.

“denki gave me candy—no, a pill.” you toss your head side to side, thighs rubbing together mindlessly. “to make me ‘feel good’—make everything, no—something feel good that’s what they said, but i just hurt.”

you can hear death threats spill out his mouth as he watches you squirm in the seat.

“i’ll take you to the hospital.” he mutters, putting a hand on the shoulder of your seat to look behind him as starts to back out.

“no!” you whine, grabbing his hand and pulling it to your lap. “i don’t want doctors touching me.”

he keeps his eyes on you as you put his palm against your inner thigh, watching how you keen against the seat when his skin touches yours.

“want you to help me, bubba, please.” he pulls his hand from you, face contorted with.. something before he’s rubbing his palms over his face and pulling at his hair. you realize what you just asked and for the umpteenth time tonight, your heart sinks. but this time you're sure that if you stood, it’d be sitting on the seat underneath you.

“i’m—katsuki, i’m sorry.” you start to babble out apology after apology, which soon all runs together and becomes broken as you tear up, voice cracking every other word.

the blond throws his head back, hard. quickly changing gear and moving his car into a private parking spot. you’re still crying when he pulls your wrist, strength easily shifting you over the middle console of his car and into his lap.

“tell me that you need my help.” he blinks up at you, holding your waist just above his lap.

you nod, hoping it’ll suffice, but it doesn’t.

“i need you to help me, katsu—no one else can.” he drops you onto his lap, fingertips digging into the softness of your sides. “please, make it better.” you breathe, shakily.

he uses his hold to drag you across his lap, the friction making you drop your head onto his shoulder. pleasure shooting up your spine, small whines of his name getting lost in his neck as he keeps grinding you down onto him until your thighs start to shake, your moans turn into breathless whines and you’re crumbling against him as you make a mess all over his jeans…

the two of you sit in panting silence for a few minutes before he tells you to move, that you need a shower. and like you always do, you listen. following him inside and discarding your clothes from your still buzzing body in silence. but as soon as the showers water hits you, you’re burning again. the ache between your legs coming back stronger than before, the burn in your stomach twice as hot and the need is too much.

you don’t hesitate to make your way right back to his room, body still nude and dripping all over the floors as you do. but you don’t care—your brain and body only knows one thing right now and it’s that you need your brother.

“what are you doing?” he strains, turning his head back towards the drawer he was sorting through as soon as he takes in your naked body standing at his doorway.

“i still hurt, katsu.” you whisper, not caring if he heard you or not. just wanting him to give you more than what he gave earlier.

“i already helped.” you can hear pain in his voice and it makes you want to cry. you wish you didn’t put him in such a position, that you would’ve just been grateful and stayed home—but you need him, it’s all your mind and body can tell you, you need him.

“help again.” you practically demand, craving him too badly to be embarrassed or think much at all about what you were doing. your hands land on his shoulders and pull yourself up to kiss at his neck trying to entice him.

“i can’t.” he groans low, but doesn’t attempt to push you away, letting you drag your lips across all the skin you can reach.

you don’t say anything else, not until you manage to pull him down by his hair to look at you.

“make it better.. like you always do.”

it’s the pebble that cracks the glass, his hands grip your waist and all but throw you onto his mattress. you only have a moment to gasp before he’s hovering over you.

“say it again.” he commands, voice rough as one of his hands makes its way to the apex of your thighs. your eyes flutter at the vibration of his words against your chest, the knot in your stomach already tying itself.

“make me feel better, bubba, please.”

there was a reason behind why he’s left the condo the few times that he does get to sit in the house, a reason why he doesn’t want to be alone with you for too long. it’s not that he doesn’t have any restraint, but he’s known thatif something ever happened, where the little sister that has always been the exception his selfish attitude asked him to do anything like this—even without whatever the fuck it was that denki gave you—he’d do it.

he drags a heavy finger along your slit, up to your still swollen clit making you gasp against his lips as they ghost your own. he teases only for a second, not able to bare you being in pain when he’s there to do something about it, just like he’s always been. he uses your excessive slick to rub harsh circles over your clit, it sends your eyes rolling back, it’s so much more practiced than the pathetic frottage he pulled in the car.

“need more, katsu, please.” you push your hips into his hand with the little bit of strength you have, desperate for as much as he’ll give you.

he drops his forehead to your shoulder this time, looking down as he moves his fingertips to your entrance, pushing two in without warning. he immediately works away with them, curling into your swollen, most sensitive wall and fucking into you with a strength that could only be possessed by such a high ranking pro hero. your wetness sticks to his knuckles with every pull before it squelches obscenely loud when he pushes back in.

“kiss me, katsu.” you whine.

he brings his lips back to yours, red eyes flickering between both of your eyes for a moment, waiting for you to take it back. you don’t, instead, sliding your hands from where they sat on his shoulders up to twist into his hair.

“you can pretend ‘m someone else… just please kiss me.” his fingers pause their movement for a moment, and he pulls away. you start to whine, from the loss and out of fear you’d said something wrong again.

“why would you say that?” you trip over any word that hits your tongue. but you don’t need to speak, he does it for you. “i don’t need to do that,” his fingers pick their pace back up, drawing wonton moans from you that you wouldn’t be able to bite back if you tried. “not when i’ve always pretended everyone else was you.” he admits.

your heart leaps in your chest just as he presses his mouth into yours, the kiss is littered with teeth and spit—but neither of you can find a reason to care.

the familiar feeling starts to coil in your stomach, your hips moving on their own down on his hand to chase the feeling of ecstasy but it never comes, you cry out as the pressure fades.

“more.” you cry softly against his lips, keeping your eyes screwed shut so you don’t have to face any look that he might give you. “‘need you.”

but, he complies, tugging himself out of the sweats he’d thrown on after his shower and kicking them off to be dealt with later. he doesn’t waste any time teasing, rushing to give you what you want—what you need, to make his pretty little sister feel good the way he’s been cursing his brain for imaging for the longest time.

he lines the thick head of him up with your already stretched hole, dropping back down to your lips as he eases in. the pop of the head of him pulls a gasp from the both of you, but he doesn’t give you time to adjust to it, knowing with how you’ve been aching to be filled all night that you can handle the stretch. which is exactly what he gives you, his fingers were nothing in comparison to the girth of his cock.

it stings, making your eyes tear up, and drags whine after whine from your throat. katsuki catches them in his mouth, swallowing them and shushing you while he continues to push in until he’s at the hilt. you babble out senseless ‘thank you’s while he pulls back slightly, never separating your hips and his own by too much. his hips make a circular motion, grinding back into you slowly, pushing the trimmed light colored pubes at the base of him against your ever throbbing clit and making you squeal from the pleasure of it.

he repeats it over and over, curved length of him dragging along your g-spot until youre twitching, your mouth hangs open, sounds falling against his lips as he drinks all of them in. your hips rise every few strokes trying to meet him, to egg him on to go harder, to give you more without having to ask for it, but he just wont. keeping his slow, sensual pace, as if he was fucking you at his own leisure and not because you basically forced yourself onto him

“love you, bubba.” you whisper drunkenly, lips dragging across his soft ones as you speak.

his hips stutter at your words, strong arms move from holding himself over you to grabbing the underside of your knees and pulling them slightly, wrapping your legs around him. “ah- my katsu.”

“keep telling me.” he grunts, sliding his hand down to your waist where your thighs fold over them. “tell me i’m yours, say that you’re mine.”

he finally picks up his antagonizing pace, hips still swirling into yours, pubic hair scratching against your bud with each push. the head of him presses deep against that spongey spot with each sway, heavy balls sticking to your leaked juices as you chant out the i love you’s like a mantra, like it’s the only meaningful thing that you’ve ever said. it’s not long before your legs start to shake, his cock hitting all of the right nerves in your throbbing cunt.

“don’t stop.” he repeats when your mouth drops wide open, orgasm creeping up on you.

“mine! you’re mine!” you cry as your vision turns white and your walls spasm around him. “‘m yours, all yours, bubba.” you whimper as the ache in your cunt becomes the pain of overstimulation.

your words and the steady throb of your clamping cunt ultimately bringing him to his end with you. you feel the heat simmer down as he fills you, warmth spilling out even as his cock still plugs you. and you couldn’t be more thankful for denki being such a scumbag.

you don’t have enough strength to stay awake past that, all of your energy left with the last orgasm. at some point you wake up, you’re clean between your thighs and cuddled up on your brother's warm chest. you shift only an inch and you could feel him jump awake to pull you closer, leaving a kiss on the top of your head before you drift back to sleep with small smiles on both of your faces—happy to be your brother’s girl.

a / n : obligatory bkgs little sis tag : @vampireloverz <33 thank you stevie for inspiring me to write this in first place!!!! +++ happy birthday to The Guy !!!

reblogs + feedback appreciated !

#bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #my hero smut #mha smut #bnha smut #boku no hero smut #my hero academia smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #my hero x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #boku no hero x reader #lets how long i keep this up #this is so good fr tho you should read it and praise me

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blondephenobarbitol · 7 months

Text

TSH hot takes 🔥

-Julian was actually a dick. He isolated and groomed vulnerable students (do you think it's a coincidence that every single member of the greek class had a difficult home life?) into thinking that these very outdated concepts of love and power were good for them. He compared their dangerous behaviour to that of ancient gods. Then, rather than face the consequence of his actions and take accountability, he left when it mattered.

-Charles was an asshole, but he's not a scapegoat. You cannot blame all the problems on Charles, he was an addict as a result of his trauma. He needed help. This doesn't excuse him from his actions, but it explains them. At the beginning of the book he physically could not bring himself to hurt Camilla. He's not a "bad" person. He's a sick person.

-Bunny didn't deserve to die, but he was also probably going to condemn the group at some point. He didn't just die for no reason. (Believing that Bunny's death was truly pointless also means believing that Henry was an actual psychopath who killed his friend for shits and giggles.)

-Judy, Cloke and Sophie ended up the happiest. That is literally the moral of the book. Judy wasn't all tortured when Richard didn't want to hang out with her, she shook it off and kept living her life. That's literally the point.

-Richard was never in love with Camilla. He loved the idea of her, but didn't see her as a person. Because of this specific dynamic and the fact the Richard is narrating, we know nothing about her actual personality. Anything he says can be disputed, and a lot of it contradicts itself.

-Francis is not blameless or unproblematic, but of the group he probably had the best intentions. Most of his behaviour that can be interpreted as creepy can be chalked up to Richard's internalized homophobia (remember, everything is told from his point of view, and Francis was a gay man in the 80's) When you look objectively at what Francis did, you see that he made a pass, got rejected, then dropped it and moved on. There is (i think) one more attempt made later on in the book, and that is furthered by Richard and only interrupted when Charles shows up.

-Henry may be the metaphorical representative of death when talking about the book, but in the narrative it's important to remember he's also just a person. Otherwise everything he does seems beyond question, and he's assigned this label as just "evil." He was 21!! Literally still a kid

-There were not good or bad characters. The reason they hit so hard is because each of them are so layered. They all have good traits and bad traits, but calling one "evil" takes away their humanity and dismisses their complexity that makes them so great.

#the secret history #tsh #donna tartt #charles macaulay #camilla macaulay #henry winter #richard papen #bunny corcoran #francis abernathy #judy poovey #booklr #hot take

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lvckyyz · 4 months

Text

hypno’s cabin headcanon

cabin’s song: you’re on your own kid - taylor swift

in greek mythology says that hypnos had a lot of children, however i don’t believe he would get involved with mortals very often

cabin 15 doesn’t have too many people, so they decided to have bigger beds and more hangouts spots in their cabin to make it more comfortable

they spend a lot of time indoors and some times their friends from other cabins have to drag them out of their rooms

and of course they are not always sleeping!like, they know that being a demigod can be dangerous and training will help them survive outside the camp

but it doesn’t mean that they enjoy training; they get tired really quick

a lot of people underestimate children of hypnos during battles

but like, they literally have power over your mind and imagination (also can make you sleep with their touch)

they know they’re powerful and just chose not to show off their skills because: their opponents won’t expect them to be so strong, and they’re too lazy to care about what the others think about them

they get along with every kind of person and could have a lot of friends if they wanted to, however, they always prefer to have only a few friends that they trust the most

usually friends with cabin 4, 20 and, surprisingly, with cabin 12

they are the cutest friends ever

hypnos children are very loyal to the ones they love, and will always help when they need

they’re good siblings, all of them are really close to each other

they gave up passing the daily cabin inspections a long time ago, and it came to a point where they don’t even get those visits any more

some of them suffer from insomnia, but luckily their siblings are always there to help

all of them are addicted to caffeine

almost everyone in cabin 15 have a stuffed toy they had since a really young age and treat it like they’re alive

can be really funny sometimes (usually make jokes that no one understand too)

they absolutely love trying to find meanings to other people’s dreams

but also have the weirdest dreams in the whole camp and never manage to understand their own subconscious

sometimes they can be selfish

because they don’t worry about things they can do ten minutes later

or even pretend they have nothing to do

children of hypnos can be acting like a child in one second and then just be all grumpy and lazy

they have one of the best tastes for music in the whole camp

a/n: hii everyone! so, this is my first headcanon, i have no idea if it is good or not but i just wanted to start writting. i’m sorry if there are some spelling mistakes (english is not my first language), so if you have any criticism, i’d love to hear it so i can improve! thank you for reading💞

next: cabin 4 💐

#pjo #pjo hoo toa #cabin 15 #heros of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #riordanverse #mithology #headcanon #pjo tv show #percy jackson #jason grace #leo valdez #annabeth chase #pjo imagine #rick riordan

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fanfiction4sooya · 3 months

Note

Hello, I hope that you're doing well ! May I please request a smutty/fluffy Tiffany fic with younger idol reader? Where reader is a small ball of shy sunshine.. She's so sweet and understanding and very likeable.. Tiffany is very protective/slightly possessive of her younger gf.. So what happens when someone tries to ask out reader in a very public way? (It can be an idol or another celebrity.)

Hi luv!! first o all thank you for the request, I love snsd so much but there's barely any requests for them!! I hope you like it, hun 💖💖 btw sorry if it's short, I'm not really a fluff writer 😩

🌸🌸🌸🌸

When you and Tiffany started going out (after she made the first move, of course) it took you a while to get used to how protective she was. Not that it was a bad thing, but sometimes it seemed like she could see things you couldn't, feel people's intentions way before you could even process them. Like the day one of the boys from a new group 'accidentally' spilled juice on your chest at the inkigayo's backstage and she literally made him apologize after talking to his manager and taking his phone from his hand just to smash it. Like imagine, the Tiffany Young scolding you in front of every single person present.

It got you upset, the situation didn't need all that, you thought, but of course she brought receipts: his phone with some very nsfw pics of you; up your skirt and a video of your wet chest.

That was all she did: watch you like a hawk and protect your naive self from anything and anyone.

They all knew you were hers, but of course no one dared saying anything out of fear or respect. And whoever dared looking at you the wrong way, boy... they regretted it.

You two were attending a party, something you guys were very fond of, given your both glam nature and it was all going so well it was like a dream.

"I am going to great some old friends, love" She leaned towards you, whispering on your ear. "Wanna come?" She smiled at you, her pretty brown eyes ever so in love.

"Can I stay here for a bit more?" You asked, closing your eyes to take in the fresh air of the secluded balcony away from all those people. "This breeze feels so good against my skin..." Your eyes met hers and well, they were equally in love.

"Of course you can, sweetheart" She gave your empty glass of champagne a look. "I'll be right back bringing one more, alright?" You nodded and she left.

You had your back to the party, admiring the city lights in your little introverted bubble when you felt a soft hand on your bare back. You turned around smiling for Tifanny only to be met with someone else instead.

"Irene sunbaenim?" You said, surprised. You smile faltered a bit, she wasn't your Tiff after all. You always liked to think that a few things were for your girlfriend's eyes only and that smile was one of them.

"Finally I met you by yourself" Her eyes were dangerously scanning your red dress. "I like your outfit" You blushed, lowering your head. She handed you a glass of champagne.

"Thank you..." Your hand nervously grabbed the glass, so shy you felt like a baby deer caught in the headlights. "Tiff chose it for me" You mindlessly said, quickly understanding by her look your mistake. "I mean... Tiffany sunbaenim uhm... Helped me choose" You furiously blushed and her eyes hardened on yours.

"Is she what?" Your innocent self didn't feel the poison on that question at first. "Your sugar mommy?" She bit her lip and you frowned, deeply hurt by that. "If that's the case I can be better for you..." She stepped closer and you opened your mouth to respond but nothing came out, your eyes were full of tears. "I could use a pretty thing such as yourself as my sugar baby" her breath fanned over your face and you lowered your head.

"Harassing one more young girl, Bae?" You heard her voice way before seeing her slightly taller frame. She knew how to be quite intimidating.

"Tiffany" Her voice came out as a snarl. Tiffany's eyes met yours and she grew ever angrier after seeing how hurt you seemed. Next thing you knew her slender fingers and sharp nails had enveloped irene's arm.

"If you talk to my girlfriend like that again i will end you" Her voice sounded low, dangerous. Irene smirked.

"You think I'm some easily impressed newbie?" She rolled her eyes. "You can't do anything against me and also... I was just talking to her, jesus" You held Tiffany's hand so she could let go of the other's arm. She relaxed a bit under your touch but you knew she wanted to throw the drink on the other's face.

"Can we go, please?" Your voice sounded small, unsure. You just wanted to run far away from that.

"This is not over, you are going to pay for upsetting her" She took your hand on hers, firmly walking away hand in hand with you for everybody's surprise. She never really touched you in public, always keeping the discretion for your sake.

The ride home was quiet and quite painful in the beggining. Your head were on her chest the whole time hearing to her strong and steady heartbeats, trying to calm yourself down so you could talk to her without crying,

"Tiff" You called and she only hummed, waiting for you to continue. "Do you see me as a sugar baby?" She never stopped caressing your hip, kissing the top of your head and lifting your face gently by your chin.

"No, my love" Her eyes were sincere and her voice controlled. "you are my girlfriend, hopefully my wife one day" Your cheeks got furiously red.

"But the others think..." She rolled up the partition of the big car, blocking any sound the driver could hear.

"The others think a lot of things" She pulled you to her lap to straddle her, a steady hand on your lower back. "If you keep trying to prove anything they'll keep doubting it just for fun, love" She gently kissed your knuckles, that intimate act giving you goosebumps. "Forget about them, it's just you and me" She kissed your wrist and you slightly shivered. She smiled against your skin, kissing your shoulder next.

"But Irene sunbaenim..." You tried to say and she cut you off.

"Forget about her" She sounded demanding. "I am yours and you are mine"

Her lips ghosted over your lips, her eyes staring into yours.

"You are mine" You recognized that tone. It was the possessive tone you loved, the one that made your legs weak when she used.

"I am yours" You whispered against her lips and she finally kissed you, one hand holding your waist while the other threaded on your locks.

It was fervent, passionate. Her kiss always made you feel good but that one was different, electrifying even. Her tongue quickly found yours, massaging it and making you whimper.

You skin felt on fire, as she bit your bare shoulder, pulling your hips forward to meet her knee. Moaning, you bit her lip and she gave you a whimper of approval, pushing your hips back while keeping one hand on your nape.

"Tiff, oh jesus" you whispered and she kept that pace. You were drenched, feeling your clit literally pulse inside your underwear as your wetness stained her black dress.

"Yes love, call my name" She growled and you tossed your head back, humping her leg with all the power you had, thinking how it was so fucking good you'd cum in no time if it kept that way.

"I think I'm gonna cum" You managed to say, rolling your eyes and scratching her shoulder, never stopping your hips.

"Not on my thigh you'll not pretty girl" She pushed you from her lap, positioning you in a way she could eat you from behind.

Your legs were spread apart as she ripped your panties from you, her tongue quickly finding your slit to gather some of your juices on it; your hand prints were all over the window already, your cheek glued to it in look for any support. Her skilled tongue kept it's assault on your pussy as it went in and out of it, her chin repeatedly hitting your clit made you jolt in pleasure. It was mind blowing, bone chilling, insane how she could have you wrapped around her finger with so little.

"Please tiff, please" You pleaded as if it was a prayer. You didn't know if you prayed to god or Tiffany, you only knew that in that moment she was devoted to you too. There, between your legs, she showed how adored you were and how much of her she could give to you.

You came in her mouth, gushing your nectar on her tongue as she lapped it up, spreading your wetness all over her face in pride. Trying to catch your breath your limp body was pulled out of the post orgasm haze and soon you found out why: her tongue was shoved down your throat, your taste passing from her tongue to yours felt delicious.

You kept kissing for a long time, sitting on her lap again. You held her against you and she did the same, not really wanting to let go of that warm embrace so full of love and vulnerability. Only after a while you two realized the car had stopped and you were in front of your shared mansion.

"I love you" She said and you took a deep breath.

"I love you too" You gave a little butterfly kiss on her nose and she crinkled it in the cutest way.

"Come on, pretty girl" She caressed your soft hair. You looked at her with doe eyes and she bit her lip. "I'm gonna show you how much I love you in our bed" Her whisper on your ear made your pussy throb.

Oh you loved when your girlfriend wanted to prove a point.

#gxg smut #snsd smut #snsd tiffany #tiffany smut #tiffany x fem reader

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koqabear · 1 year

Text

Stuck With You

Song suggestion: What Is It About Her?

“Taehyun hates everything about you; your pride, your stubbornness, and the way you plague his thoughts with dangerous desires that threaten to break down his walls.”

king! Taehyun x fem! mage!reader

Genre: enemies to enemies (but like there’s a twist), royalty!au, angst, smut, fantasy!au

word count: 7.9K

Warnings: Tons of bickering, Taehyun is condescending, jealousy, they literally hate each other, so lots of anger and fighting, mentions of TH being abusive (isn’t actually, nothing happens), manhandling,

Smut warnings: hard dom!Taehyun, brat!mc, sub(?)!mc, dubcon(?) (omg what), hate sex wahhh, rough sex, manhandling, (again!! There’s a lot) degrading, name calling, (filthy, pathetic), biting, dry humping, binding wrists/hands, marking, knife play, breast play, unprotected sex, mocking, edging, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, creampie

Notes: Am I incapable of writing a story under 5K? It seems so. I was listening to this damn song the entire time I wrote this and omg I’m so tired of it but it also manages to encapsulate their relationship perfectly. Hope u guys enjoy Taehyun manhandling the shit outta the reader bc for some reason it just kept happening…. I think I need to self reflect for a bit.

Taehyun has never liked you.

You’re so fickle, a cocky eyesore that he can never seem to escape from— too smart, too wicked, tongue always sharpened to a point as you never knew when to avert your eyes; when to bow down to your Royal Highness.

He cannot fathom having to spend his waking days around you— yet, fate seems to punish him in such laughable ways.

“Your Highness,” he’s forced out of his thoughts as he is called, the title so familiar that the sound of his own name is starting to fade from memory, forced as a young child to take responsibility after his deceased father and become the person he is today.

His every move is practiced, careful, and familiar as he regards the faceless maid before him, not bothering to turn back around as he continues his morning walk. His robes brush against the warm earth, the wind around him bringing about the early signs of spring as it sings against his skin, cooling him down as the hurried steps of the maid follow before him.

“The mage is summoning you— I’m afraid it is important; she has summoned the royal court as well… they currently wait for your arrival.”

Taehyun’s steps cease beneath the graveled path. He says nothing, seemingly unaffected by the news as he nods his head slowly. The day was so beautiful, he finds himself thinking, chest heaving with a disappointed sigh as he turns to follow the servant.

But of course, you had to come along and ruin it.

✧ ✧

“Your Highness. This is not a joke.”

Taehyun supposes he’s bad at hiding his expressions, if the way you stare him down with fire in your eyes means anything. The conference room is stuffy with the number of people that send him curious stares, unable to fathom how he could not take the current news seriously.

“The Southern Kingdom is persistent with their threats of war— they truly believe we are the ones behind the massacre of their villages.”

“It’s a wonder how a kingdom survived for so long under such a stupid ruler, isn’t it?” Taehyun heeds no warning from your words, sighing as he looks out the window and observes the lovely day before him. “I might go hunting today, what do you think?”

Your hands that slam down on the wooden table startle everyone but him; you’re standing, eyes narrowed dangerously as you leer at him from the other side of the long, rectangular conference table.

“I think you’d be stupid to not act on these threats immediately.” You grit out, jaw clenched as you take in the way the King seems to be unbothered by your insults. He simply shrugs, sparing a glance to the head guard before he’s leaning back in his seat, closing his eyes as his hands remain folded neatly in his lap.

“Yeonjun,” he drawls, peeking at you through lidded eyes as he speaks, “what do you think?”

He doesn’t miss the way Yeonjun sits up in his seat in surprise, adam’s apple bobbing before he’s clearing his throat, gaze averted as he speaks to his King.

“Your Majesty,” he begins, a hand on his chest as he stares at the dark wood of the table, “I think it is best for us to clear our name. A war during these times would set back our countries drastically.”

Taehyun hums, nodding his head in recognition. “You’re right. I want you and a few of your men to investigate those villages; be discreet, I don’t want you to be traced back to us if you get caught.”

“Someone arrange a meeting with the Southern Kingdom’s royal mage— I must speak to them, it is urgent. And you,” it is no surprise when Taehyun’s eyes meet yours, pausing to regard your disgruntled state. “Stay. I must speak to you privately.”

There’s nothing you can do but grit your teeth and plant your stance as everyone scatters out of the room— afraid of the King’s anger, of the way his jaw clenches with annoyance. His eyes never leave yours, yet the heat that radiates from his gaze almost burns up the room, everyone’s gazes planted to the ground as they bow meekly to him before they exit.

It’s just you and him now; Unfortunately, you think, bracing yourself for another scolding from your arrogant King.

“That was no way to speak to your Ruler.”

It feels as though you’re on fire; it takes everything within you to compose yourself, fists clenched tightly behind your back as you narrow your eyes at his words. You hate it— you hate him with your whole being. The way he seems to be unbothered, tired eyes fluttering shut as he leans back in his seat, a deep sigh escaping him as his lips part tiredly.

“My Ruler only pays attention when you scream in his face, it seems,” you seethe, ignoring the way his eyes snap open to give you a cautioning glare, “he’s a very arrogant man.”

He huffs out a laugh, but there’s no amusement behind it all. Slowly, he stands, his robes fluttering with his movements as he looks down at you angrily— if there’s one thing that will always cloud his mind, it’s his pride.

This same pride prompts him to walk to you, dangerous and slow, warning you to tuck your tail and apologize; you’ll do no such thing, your gaze only sharpening more with every step he takes closer to you. You’re restless, resisting the urge to lash out again as your tongue sharpens against your teeth; lips screwed tightly together, jaw clenched as you wait for him to do something, anything— hit you, yell at you, dismiss you— but he does none of the sort, coming dangerously close to you as he observes you curiously.

It’s silent; you’re practically sharing the very air you breathe, both of you waiting for the other to break as you meet his gaze, refusing to look away for even a second.

Taehyun takes a moment to observe you; your eyes, angry and restless, sharp as they dig into his own. You’re tense, your body practically ready to shake as you keep your jaw clenched, lips pursed together as you hold back another nasty jab directed at him.

You’re like a puppy; all bark and no bite, unable to truly stand up to him in fear of treason— you need this job, your only source to provide for your family in the far-off village you came from. He could dismiss you, break you, watch as you beg him for forgiveness in fear of putting your family at risk— the idea is dangerously appealing to him, the thought of finally having you at his feet making his lips twitch in amusement.

Taehyun holds your life in his hands, and the realization of it sends a deadly lick of fire through his body.

“How cute,” he mutters, watching the way your brows twitch in anger at his comment.

“For a second, I almost let your words get to me.”

The comment does more damage than any other strike ever could— because for a second, Taehyun’s gaze almost softened, the smile that grazed his lips more frightening than any threat he could muster.

A sharp shiver wracks through you; bitterly, you realize that Taehyun managed to gain the upper hand over you once again.

✧ ✧

The first time he dreams of you, Taehyun is terrified.

He wakes up in distress, an ache forming between his eyes from the pure confusion and anger that overtakes him. He lets out a shaky sigh as he sits up, sinking back into the soft pillows of his bed; his whole body trembles, disoriented and in denial as he attempts to block out everything his traitorous mind conjoined up.

But it doesn’t work. His day is ruined, his mind flashing images of the scenario that manages to haunt even his waking hours.

In the morning, he makes his way to the garden; fresh air will do him good, he figures, the cool air and floral scent that drifts through the wind calming his beating heart. But then, his fingers caress the petals of his favorite roses— ruby red, the color stunning to his eyes— and he finds himself touching the velvet of your skin, your bare hips and warm thighs that encase him, alluring and soft as your precious lips are reddened and mischievous; swollen, begging for more as his teeth sink on the soft flesh like he was born to do so.

He’s quick to exit the garden after that.

His afternoon isn’t much better, his mood sour after dealing with countless meetings and petty problems— he’s exhausted as he leans back into his throne, a distraught sigh escaping him as allows himself to shut his eyes for just a moment— then he’s back to the dreaded memory of you, cute and pliant as you shift restlessly in his lap; your face flushed, hair and clothes a mess as you weakly beg for him to touch you, to please you.

The moment his name leaves your lips, whiny and desperate, is the moment he jumps up from his throne.

Taehyun.

The sound is so realistic, haunting his mind as the ghost of your whine echoes through his ears; it follows him relentlessly, leaving him in distress as he wonders what a dream like that could possibly mean.

By the end of the day, Taehyun feels as though he may lose his mind; he’s unable to stay in one place, his mind inevitably wandering back to you if he doesn’t find something that takes away his full attention. He’s a mess by the time he’s wandering the corridors, ready to go back to his room as his eyes land on the last thing he would ever want to see.

You’re so relaxed, a smile gracing your face as you converse with Hueningkai, one of Captain Yeonjun’s guards, the two of you so close and giddy that Taehyun can’t help but stop and watch.

He’s never seen you like this; he’s never bothered to either, but something about the way you lean into Hueningkai so closely, unafraid to enter his space as the two of you whisper coyly to each other, is enough to have Taehyun bristle up and walk away.

The emotion is ugly and dreadful as Taehyun shakes his head, a heavy huff leaving him as he beelines straight to his bed— the same bed where he had you under him, your breaths brushing his skin as you panted desperately for more; the very bed where he kissed you until his lungs burned, pressing you into the bedding until your bodies melded together.

Angrily, Taehyun resists the urge to abandon his bed and stay in another room; even now, you seem to haunt him ‘till his wit's end.

✧ ✧

The second time Taehyun dreams of you, he’s more frustrated than terrified.

He sincerely thought it had all been bad luck; his unfulfilled needs melting with his hatred for you, an unlucky concoction as his mind conjured thoughts unspeakable. It had all been nothing but a fluke he hoped, but as he stares out the window and into the scenery of his land, he can’t help but remember the way he had you pressed up against this very glass, his lips unrelenting against your neck as he whispered words that had you crying and begging for more.

As he writes to other kingdoms, he finds himself staring at his hands; the same ones that had a bruising grip on your hips, bunching up your garments as he pressed himself firmly against you— he can recall the way you melted under his touch, compliant and needy as you let yourself be ravished by him.

The you in his dreams doesn’t compare to the one that haunts his waking hours— only, in a much more horrid way, as he finds that his temper with you has decreased into something minuscule. He sees it in the way you tense when he so much as enters the same room as you, the rest of his servants sparing you a pitied glance before they duck their heads before him; afraid, meek, and unsure of what he may do to you or anyone who annoys him.

But even though his patience with you has withered thin, you still find it in yourself to whip him with such insults and humiliations, unafraid of the consequences as you continue to look Taehyun boldly in the eye.

He could have you disappear with a snap of his fingers— yet, time has ruthlessly shown him that you’re a more valuable asset than he once thought. No, he can’t get rid of you even if he wanted to— his mage, the best in the land and the only one that could ever manage to put up with him.

The thought of being stuck with you is vile.

✧ ✧

By the nth time he dreams of you, Taehyun firmly believes that it is no longer an accident.

You’re a mage— why didn’t he think of this sooner? The blood in his veins is coursing with fire by the time it all connects, his steps rough and brisk as he makes his way to the place where it all started; the dreadful doors of the meeting room greet him, cracked open to insinuate that someone opened them already.

You’re scared stiff when the doors slam open; whirling around, you’re left face to face with the very man you’d rather not be left alone with, the doors swinging back shut behind him. You’re nervous, a lump in your throat forming as the fire and anger you always find igniting when you see him dissipates, feeling as though water had been dumped on it.

That very water manifests itself as Taehyun; there’s something different about him, something serious in the way he stares you down, eerily silent and angry as he storms toward you. You feel a witty remark bubble up in your throat, but you’re forced to push it down as you take in the way he’s teeming with rage, unpredictable and unstable as he makes his way to you.

He towers over you, his robes furling around him as his hand presses firmly to your chest; presses against your heart, nervous and quick as he continues to walk, forcing you to stumble back from the brute strength he possesses— the air is practically knocked out of your lungs from how hard he pushes you against the wall.

“You did this,” he says, eyes narrowed in distaste as he takes in the way you look up at him in confusion, daring to feign ignorance that only angers him more, “you evil wench, how dare you do this to your King?”

Your eyes widen at his words; he can feel the way your heartbeat is unrelenting against his palm, your hand swatting him away as you grow defensive. The back of his hand stings from the slap, a fire spreading from the very place you touched him; he can’t help but cradle his hand close to his chest, offended at the way you disrespect him so, even when his warning gaze is searing onto your skin.

“You speak nonsense,” you spit out, brows knitting together as you look at him with pure offense, “for I have no idea of what you allude to.”

He can’t help but let out an incredulous laugh; even now that he has you cornered, you dare lie to him— even worse, he’s forced to step back, the images of the nights where he would dream of you flustered and pressed against the wall coming back to the forefront of his mind.

He can’t control himself, the carnal and disgusting thoughts plaguing his mind as rage fills his being; he’s backing away before he does anything drastic, the images flashing through his mind as a rough fist collides onto the table behind him. His eyes are shut tight, teeth gritted together as he seethes, ignoring the way you stand back, pressing yourself against the wall in confusion.

“This—“ he says, huffing as he opens his eyes, meeting yours before he can help himself— and there you are again, pleading for him to use you until he no longer can— “These cursed thoughts, you did this to me—!”

He feels weak in the knees as he looks at you, his mind running off to places they shouldn’t as he attempts to ignore the intrusive thoughts; you’re still, unsure of what to do as you watch your majesty slowly lose composure.

Jumping, you’re reduced to the very person you were when you arrived at the palace; meek, useless, and afraid as he runs to you, grabbing ahold of your shoulders and tossing you around until your hips meet the back of the very table he was once leaning on; he’s leaning you back, your arms forced to support yourself as his fingers dig roughly into your shoulders, towering over you as he scowls menacingly.

“Undo this,” he says, exasperated and breathy as he becomes reminiscent of the nights when he would toss and turn in bed, forced to confront all of these imaginations that included you, pliant and needy under his touch. His eyes screw shut, teeth gritting together as he refuses to look at you, “undo this wretched spell this instant!”

His grip is bruising; you yelp at the way he shakes you, never seeing him this desperate and angry as a hand reaches up to push against his chest; but it’s useless, his strength outdoing yours easily as he growls at your weak attempt to run away.

“I’ve done no such thing—!”

“Don’t you lie to me!” He’s quick to cut you off, volume raising significantly as the adrenaline begins to course through both your veins, “I know you’ve done this, this disgusting spell that haunts my nights— how dare you attempt such a thing to your king, do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”

“I’ve done nothing!” You scream, a sudden strength aiding you as you push against his chest with both hands, watching as he stumbles back harshly, his back colliding with the wall behind him— the sight is reminiscent of what he did to you moments ago.

“Have you lost your mind?!” You say, exasperated as you watch his hardened gaze, the way his fists shake with anger at his sides, “I’ve done nothing— yet you accuse me of such— such things that you don’t even dare speak of!

For a moment, there is only silence and the sound of your panting breaths; you hate the way your hands shake as you grip the edge of the table, gulping harshly as you take in the way he hasn’t moved a single inch.

“I know you hate me,” you huff, jaw clenching as you pause, regaining your composure before continuing, “but you’ve gone too far. This is low, your highness, even for you.”

“Low?” Taehyun echoes, disbelief on his face as he finally moves; he steps towards you, watching the way you begin to flee in retaliation, “you speak of being low?”

Predator and prey; you can’t help but feel as though this is all you’ve been reduced to, tense and careful as you make your way back to the door; he follows you, his pace matching yours as he allows you to inch closer to the door.

“What’s low is the way you haunt my dreams, calling out for me like you’d die if I wasn’t near you,” your heart is thundering in your chest, bewildered by his words as you find yourself right behind the door; you’re frozen, waiting for the moment he’ll let his guard down so you can slip out and run.

“You, you of all people,” he spits, as though the very words were fire on his tongue, “persistent—almost every night it would happen, haunting even my waking days as I was forced to turn the other way when I saw you in the corridors.”

You don’t care anymore; it’s reckless, but you bolt for the door, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you reach for the door handle— but Taehyun is faster, a hand clamping on your wrist and tugging you back as he uses you to slam the doors fully shut, the latches clicking as the wood knocks out the air from your lungs.

Taehyun presses against you; you’re like fire against him, and he finds himself thawed the moment he feels your body against his, the empty mold that came from his dreams as he finds his mind clouding dangerously.

“What’s low,” he hisses, tugging you closer as his hand grips your waist ruthlessly. He’s so close, you couldn’t avoid him even if you closed your eyes— you don’t dare to, the look in his eyes fatal as he traps you in the very spell he’s found himself in.

“Is the way you forced me to yearn for your touch.”

Any cruel words that were hanging precariously on your tongue quickly fade away; instead, Taehyun is kissing you with an angry passion, his hand cupping your jaw and pulling you close as he presses your body into the door. His lips are rough and ruthless as they take from you, prying you open and getting the taste that he only imagined in his dreams.

You’re left weak against him, your body automatically reciprocating as all the words left unsaid travel between the two of you. The hatred, anger, and confusion are interchanged, a groan escaping you as he bites down on your lip.

He’s rough, not sparing you for even a second as continues to take, unable to do anything else but enjoy the way you grow stupid against his grip, the kiss harsh and messy as you allow him to be the only thing holding you up. Your knees are weak, and if it weren’t for Taehyun pressing you harshly against the door, you would’ve fallen a long while ago.

He’s unable to hold himself back as he bunches up the fabric of your garments, bunching up your skirts before he’s able to press himself against you; the moan you let out is broken and weak, his robes fluttering around you as he smiles against your lips; your mind has emptied by now, the perfect vessel to let him satiate the need that plagued him after so many dreams— drool is beginning to form at the corners of your lips, and even as you tap Taehyun relentlessly, he refuses to pull away; day after day, he was forced to be around your excruciating presence while being forced to pretend that he couldn’t feel the ghost of your lips, couldn’t imagine the way you would sound when he hit a spot that drove you crazy.

His hips rut against you roughly; he’s unstoppable, messy moans harmonizing with your own as he reaches for your hands; his fingers lock around your wrists, bringing them up and slamming them against the wood as he delivers a particularly harsh thrust; he watches the way your face scrunches up, eyes fluttering shut as your body bounces up with him.

The sound you let out is akin to the ones in his dreams, leading him to believe that you’re nothing but a fox, a filthy liar that attempts to save face no matter what— and it angers him more, angers him enough to leave marks and bites along the column of your throat, your whines weak and soft as you flinch at his harsh touch; your wrists bounce against his hands in protest as he bites down on your skin, tongue running on it soothingly before he moves on.

Frustratedly, he’s met with the cloth of your top; clumsily, he gathers your wrists in a single hand— they’re above your head now, slammed against the wood so hard that you feel the backs of your hands tingling ruthlessly. His other hand fumbles with his pockets, your mind so clouded that you’re barely able to keep your eyes open for a moment.

You grow still the moment the tip of a dagger is pressed to the underside of your chin.

“Admit to me,” he says, breathy and frustrated as the blade pokes into your skin threateningly, “admit to me that it was you, that you’re the one who cast this spell on me— that you have been haunting my dreams.”

Even now, you shake your head in denial. But the last thing Taehyun will do is believe you, his teeth gritting together as he slices down; your mouth falls open, eyes going glassy as he cuts cleanly through the top you wear, the blade poking at your stomach as he releases your hands for just a second— long enough to slide your garments off, the fabric pooling at your feet as you’re left bare before your king.

“Why do you still deny me,” he mutters, the knife gliding against your skin comfortably— against all the places he’s felt, a carbon copy of his dreams as he takes in every detail of you; it’s all too much for him, the heated nights he spent with you in his dreams resurfacing in his mind as his dagger tucks itself under your bra, his hand resting on your hip as your hands fall weakly onto his shoulders; he’s pressing into you firmly, the wood cool against your skin as your forehead touches his; you sigh shakily, fingers digging into his shoulders as you close your eyes.

A sharp tug has you jolting into him, the knife slashing through the garment before it’s falling to the ground, the cool air against your breasts making you shiver.

Taehyun feels dizzy as he takes you in; his hands attempt to memorize you, as though you would disappear into smoke if he’s not careful enough. Slowly, his hands glide up; they encase your breasts, eyes eagerly taking in your facial expressions as his fingers carefully play with your nipples— it’s odd, the way he can already feel his body telling him what to do, how to please you as your mouth is falling open, your hands clinging to his wrists as he pushes himself closer to you once more.

Carelessly, his right-hand reaches down to grab your leg; he hoists it onto his waist, roughly pressing into you as you’re pressed flat against the door. Your head falls back, able to feel the way his cock is pressing directly against your slit, a shaky moan escaping you the moment he begins to rut his hips again.

“God— so soft…” Taehyun finds himself saying, a broken gasp escaping him as he allows his hips to take control. Your breasts bounce temptingly before him, his mouth latching onto the sensitive skin as he finds himself eager to hear the very same sounds that always echoed in his mind. He’s insatiable, groans leaving him as he sucks and bites, pretty fangs sinking into your delicate skin and leaving marks that he would make sure would last an eternity.

None of his dreams compare to this; to the sound of you so close to his ear, a shaky hand threading itself in his hair as you finally give in to the temptation and pull him back up for a kiss; you’re a mess of spit and tongue as you beg him for more, the pleasure fogging your mind as you pull him in restlessly.

A fire licks through his veins, the frustration you put him through suddenly resurfacing as he steps back— yet his hand remains firm on your hip, letting go of your leg and pulling you forcefully, spinning you around until you’re colliding with the table. He doesn’t stop there, a firm hand pressing down on your chest as he’s forcing you to lean back— his gaze is predatory and dangerous as he looms over you, situating himself between your legs as he allows himself to hover over you, glaring at you with such spite that you’d almost think he was getting ready to kill you— except, his fluttering touches that wander around your body speak otherwise.

“Filthy thing, haunting my dreams then feigning innocence,” he seethes out, slipping off his robes and tossing them aside; he’s undressing before you, his cock straining against the material of his undergarment as he looks at you with nothing but rage. Even then, you have the audacity to have confusion swimming in your eyes, helpless to the way he slides you back towards him, your hips pressing together as he lets out a sharp hiss; the sound you let out is enough to distract him for a second, desperate to hear it from you more.

“I’ve done— nothing!” You say, a cry escaping you in between your sentence as Taehyun thrusts into you roughly. He only seems to be annoyed by your response, his dagger caressing up and down your thigh as he looks at you in a warning.

“You’re a fool, and you’re afraid to admit that I’ve done nothing wrong,” you pant, your head spinning at the way the dagger scratches against your skin, the pressure applied coming and going as he tilts his head at your words; there’s no curiosity in his gaze, only anticipation that you’ll be stupid enough to finish your thought.

“And you’re afraid to admit that you’ve fallen for the very person you swore you hated.”

The response is immediate; he’s slicing through the measly fabric of your underwear, the knife clattering on the table as his hand shoots up to you instead— he cups your jaw, fingers gripping it closed as you glare at him, daring him to do something reckless.

“You plague my dreams,” he seethes, gaze full of hatred as his cock begins to rub against your folds; he’s leaking and desperate, able to feel the way you’re soaking wet for him despite barely being touched.

“I thought of you every night. You visited me, didn’t you, you sly thing?” His tip is prodding at your entrance, teasing you by only slipping it in before he backs out, fangs sinking into his lip as he stares at you like a predator who just caught his next meal, “you wanted me to cave in and visit you, to bring all those fantasies to life.”

“You’re a pathetic, weak little thing.”

It’s inevitable for you to let out a laugh at that; his fingers only dig into your cheeks in response, his jaw clenching as he stares at you like you aren’t even worth his time. Yet here you are accused of a crime you never committed, pinned under the king as he looks at you with pure, unrivaled hatred.

Smiling, you take him in carefully; his eyes, blown open with lust and frustration, his body that keens and bends to seek your touch— he calls you pathetic, yet is unable to let go of you for a second.

“Your Highness,” you whimper out, a teary gaze and quivering lip greeting Taehyun as tears bubble up at your pretty eyes. He can only feel another hot wave of lust course through him, leaning in closer to hear your pathetic pleas.

“I don’t specialize in love spells.”

He pulls away like a man that’s been burned; he scowls, only to find that your legs have already locked him in, a whiny moan leaving your lips as you urge him to enter you.

“Your Highness,” you whine, shivering at the way he slowly enters you, your hand reaching up for his nape; you cling onto him, bringing him back down as you allow him to hover over you, shaky breaths intertwining with each other as he stretches you out perfectly. You feel so full, so good, velvet walls clenching around him like a vice as he lets out a shaky sigh, head bowing down and resting by your shoulder, his forearms barely able to hold him up as you let out sweet sounds just for him.

“Your Highness, I’m so honored you think of me so much,” you cry, enjoying the way he tenses against you. There you go again— unstoppable even in the most uncanny situations, your annoying quips igniting his rage as his will to put you in your place is strengthened; straightening, he grabs onto your hips, fingers digging in and massaging the soft flesh as his eyes grow cold. Scanning your body, he’s still able to take in the way you’re flushed and needy, hips attempting to move subtly to gain stimulation from him.

His left hand leaves a bruising grip on your skin; if you think you won, you’re dead wrong.

“Honored…” he mutters, the knife pointed back at your throat as he bottoms out in you; his hips are pressed firmly against yours, but you’ve gone stiff, unable to ignore the dangerous pressure applied to your skin. Tilting his head, he tuts, his other hand reaching for the ribbon of his discarded robes; before you know it, you’ve been tied up, unable to move your wrist as they’re tied tightly together— Taehyun smiles, the pretty ribbon tied in a neat bow against your skin. The dagger is back against your throat as his right-hand guides your wrists above your head, his eyes twinkling as he takes in your weakened state.

“Yes. You should be.”

You can’t help the way you flinch as Taehyun raises the knife threateningly; your eyes screw themselves shut tightly the moment he’s bringing it down, the velocity so intense your heart stops for a second.

The sound of impact from the dagger is heard throughout the whole room.

A shuddering sigh leaves you— it’s sunk deep into the table, uselessly looking up as Taehyun’s condescending laughter reaches your ears; you try looking up to see where the dagger may have been placed, but it’s no use. Shifting, you go to move your wrists back down.

Only you can’t move them at all— they’re stuck in place.

Your lips are left open in surprise as Taehyun begins to fuck you with wild abandon, the need to have you a mess under him plaguing his mind as his hands grip onto your hips fiercely. He’s rough, relentless, and cruel as you cry out, unable to ignore the fire that ignites in your stomach as he brutally thrusts into you.

Your eyes are fluttering shut as the feeling of your body rocking to his thrusts makes your head spin, your hands clenched in a tight fists as you bring your arms close together; your eyes open in alarm, meeting his gaze as your arms brush against the sharp blade of the dagger, scratching your skin as he grins at you teasingly.

Taehyun doesn’t know how to identify the torrents of emotions that course through him; you look better than any dream he’s been haunted by, your eyes softened and filled with lust, your curves and skin warm under his palms as your thighs ensnare him, luring closer as your cunt only pulls him in more; the sounds of skin on skin fill the room, his needy sounds mixing with your own as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each rough thrust, his tip kissing your cervix and your skin blossoming with marks he inflicted onto you from rage.

You’re here under him, bound and begging for more. You’re so soft, intoxicating, and frustrating as he finds himself unable to keep his hands off you, his mind wandering to the countless images and scenarios he can finally fulfill with you.

You’re so warm and tight; Taehyun has to slow his hips as he feels the way you begin to keen and cry, your hips bucking up as your gaze meets his— it’s demanding, entitled yet still innocent as you’re brought closer to your high.

But he won’t allow you— not as long as you continue to deny him, to deny the way you’ve been calling for him from the very start. There’s something else, and he knows it; his body is eerily attuned to yours, able to tell what you’re feeling and how to please you from the very moment his lips crashed against yours.

“These dreams,” he pants, gritting his teeth as his nails dig into the delicate skin of your hips, “what do they mean— what have you done to me?”

“I told you— I’ve done nothing—!” The whimper that escapes you is weak and defeated as his hand encases your throat, leaving you lightheaded as his hips begin to roll curiously; it’s instinct, and Taehyun doesn’t know how he does it, but he’s quickly able to find the spot that has your mind emptying, bound hands thrashing above your head as you cry for more.

“What dreams?” You manage to say, exasperated as his hips still, the feeling of his thick cock pulsing inside you driving you mad and making you lose yourself. You’re truly clueless as to what Taehyun speaks of, your eyes struggling to remain open as his hold on you remains.

“Dreams,” he begins, his hand leaving you as you gasp for air— his hand trails down, caressing the column of your throat before his fingers tease along your chest, along your stomach before he finally finds his place at your clit; his fingers as teasing and calloused as they rub meticulous circles along the bud, the pace and pressure eerily similar to that of your own, knowing better than anyone how to pleasure yourself on nights where you dare to let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t.

“Dreams of you. Here, under me, just as you are now— begging for me to touch,” his hips are moving again, your brows furrowing as you bite your lip desperately, “to please.”

Leaning down, his lips hover over yours, his gaze one of pure fire as he pulls you closer to him, arms wrapping around your waist as he presses you tightly against him; chest against chest, the slight tug he does to bring you closer making the fabric of the pretty ribbon rip slightly.

“Dreams where you beg me to ruin you.”

His words are filthy as his lips are planted firmly against yours; desperate and rough as he doesn’t adhere to your pleasure, his cock filling you so nicely as the feeling of his body pressing against yours like a fire that continues to pull you in.

A small yelp leaves you as Taehyun grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back as you’re forced to stare at the ceiling, his undeniably soft hair tickling your face as he proceeds to whisper things that make your blood run cold.

“You’re there, in my dreams as you beg for me to ravish you at any given moment,” he growls, unable to hold back the memory of it all as his frustrations pile up and tumble out through his tongue, “filthy little thing— in my gardens, the corridors, my bed.”

Your heart pounds at his confessions; your nails dig into the palm of your hands, the images jumping into your mind so vividly you’d almost think you lived through it all already.

“My throne,” he groans, biting at your neck as his hand wanders around your body.

“Begging me to touch you here,” his fingers ghost over the sensitive flesh of your breasts, “crying when I do this,” the sound that leaves you is inexplicable as he times a perfectly calculated thrust into your sweet spot, abusing the sensitive area as he watches the way you melt under him, just as expected as he finds himself scowling at you.

“Everything you begged me to do, I remember it perfectly,” he mutters, your eyes tearing up as you feel his fingers play relentlessly with your clit, “don’t you?”

You’re terrified of what this means; these dreams that have plagued you as well, a hidden and dirty secret you wished to hide more than anything. You remember it all, the way he pleased you like no other, able to read his emotions perfectly as you did the same; every day you were forced to live with the shame and denial of these occurrences, obligated to face him and pretend like you hadn’t been calling his name out desperately the night before— only, it seems he had done the same this entire time.

What could this mean? The possibilities swim through your head, yet you refuse to come to a conclusion as you feel the way Taehyun only grows rougher with you, still waiting for a response as he feels the way you grow needy and desperate for him.

It’s terrifying to see how attuned he is to you— because he’s quick to pull away just as you were about to be pushed over to the edge, left to be nothing but a sweaty and needy mess as you whine weakly for him to stop being cruel. You’re helpless, the slick feeling of your wetness spreading all through your inner thighs driving Taehyun insane as he watches the way you weakly struggle against your binds.

He’s doing no better than you— but he can control it, even as you clench tightly around him in futile attempts to bring him closer to the edge. Yet his voice is traitorous against him as he lets out a weak groan, unable to ignore the way his heart pounds harder at the sight of you, ruined before him.

“You know,” he breathes out, the realization dawning on him as he watches the way you refuse to meet his eyes. But in the end, you have no choice, your face grabbed as you’re turned roughly to look at Taehyun; his gaze is intense, as though he can read your thoughts as his eyes search yours, “Damn it, you know.”

“Tell me,” he says, desperate as you press your lips together firmly, your refusal to speak only angering him more as he sneers at you, “As your ruler, I command you to tell me.”

Shakily, your lips part— you’ve seen all this happen before, always feeling jealousy for others as you recounted every symptom, memorizing it all as you wished silently to have something like this for your own. But as you stare at Taehyun, angry and relentless as he waits for you to respond, you can’t help the way your stomach sinks with dread.

Taehyun is able to hear what you say without you having to form a single word— and it terrifies him, his body stiffening as he takes in what you tell him.

Soulmates.

It feels as though the fire in his heart has intensified; his body feels strange, heated and tingly as he stares at you, able to tell that you’re doing no better than him as you begin to breathe shakily.

Taehyun thinks this might be the worst outcome of all; despite his stubborn pride, his soul begs to get closer to you, begs him to move his hips and please you as you shift restlessly beneath him— even though he’s felt nothing but hate for you on the surface, deep inside he finds himself unable to resist you.

It infuriates him.

Stuck with you, he realizes, brows furrowing as he grips your hips tightly; he’s lost all control, allowing his soul and instinct take over as he watches the way you fall apart beneath him— it’s horrible, feeling the way his heart speeds at the way you desperately beg for more, attempting to cling to his facade he’s kept up for so long; these feelings he’s suppressed for so long, that he thought he was insane for having, were meant to be after all— he’ll never get rid of you.

“Fuck,” he stutters, gulping as his hands automatically go to keep you close, hips snapping ruthlessly into you as he finds himself addicted, your perfect sopping cunt bringing him back in and making him lose all control, “so… so good.”

It’s all falling apart; everything he worked so hard to keep up is tumbling down, out of his control as this new realization seems to tug his soul closer to you— he finds himself addicted, a curious thought nagging at him as he leans down to taste your swollen and bitten lips, the same that reminded him of the roses in his garden he so meticulously ordered others to care for.

He’s everywhere; his hands, his lips, his cock, so overwhelming in the best ways possible as you find your mind blanking out.

Soulmates, you think, eyes shutting tightly as he continues to fuck you into the table, rocking roughly as your arms become sore from their awkward position, soulmates… yes. You become more open to the thought, his touch suddenly intoxicating as it all becomes less than enough, the need to have him so impossibly close tugging at your mind.

“Say,” he starts, gulping roughly as he finds himself unable to concentrate, “Say my name. Call out for me.”

You’re in too deep; both of you are, breaching unknown territory as he hungrily waits for you to follow his commands. You’re unsure what to do, voice shaky and breathy as you finally muster the courage to call him by the only name you ever have.

“Your highness…” you breathe out, watching as he shakes his head in denial; he’s insistent, the sudden need to fulfill this very last memory that haunted him every waking second much stronger than before, his gaze piercing as he hovers over you, lips brushing against yours as he mutters quietly.

“My name.”

It’s instinct, your eyes meeting his as you feel your high approaching, intense and heavy like a wave as you arch your back, pressing firmly into him as your eyes shine with tears, as though you could melt into one soul if you tried hard enough.

“Taehyun.”

The name feels like an aphrodisiac on your lips; Taehyun must feel the same, for he finds himself crashing down at that, the sound of your sweet whine not comparable to the pathetic echoes that faintly haunted him during his waking days. He’s a shaky, shuddering mess as he allows himself to kiss you through it, continuing to fuck you even though he fills you with countless spurts of his hot cum. You groan, thighs shaking as you feel the way his pelvis rubs onto your clit, still managing to bring you to the edge as you clench around him tightly.

Your moans mix into each other, bodies pressed so tightly together that you don’t know where he ends and you begin; it’s strange, the way you feel so at peace even as he overstimulates you, hips rocking relentlessly with every broken moan of his name you let out.

You can’t get enough of it— it feels like candy in your mouth, the feeling of him smiling slyly against your lips alarming as the weight of everything begins to weigh down on you. It seems like hours before Taehyun finally straightens, watching as a ring of his cum has formed on his shaft, a weak groan escaping him as he takes in the way your inner thighs are painted with it prettily.

Slowly, his hungry gaze meets yours; then he remembers everything, jaw clenching as he wonders just how this all came to be.

He hates it, the way his heart calls to you despite the frustration that consumes him when he looks at you— he hates the way you make him feel weak; even now that you’re bound and left at his mercy, you don’t seem to realize the way you have him wrapped around his finger.

He gulps, the lump in his throat heavy as he watches your pretty eyes, all glossy and fucked out, much better than anything he could have dreamed of as he feels his cock twitching inside you once more.

Everything he ever feared came true— it seems you’ve become his fatal weakness.

His soulmate.

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nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius · 1 year

Text

TBB Incorrect Quotes, Part 9

Echo, comming Crosshair: Okay turn around. Echo: No, the other way. Echo: The other other way. Echo: Okay, one more time. Echo: A little to the left. Echo: No, your other left. Crosshair: OH MY GOD, WHERE ARE YOU?!? Echo: Oh, I'm not there yet. But the thought of you aimlessly spinning in circles amuses me.

Echo: Where are my fucking keys? Hunter: Echo, Omega is around, can you say it a little nicer? Echo: May I ascertain the whereabouts of my FUCKING KEYS?!

Tech: This is Hunter. He loves his personal space. *Omega latches herself onto Hunter* Tech: This is Omega. She also loves Hunter's personal space.

Hunter, texting Crosshair: Text me when you’re home safely. Crosshair: I’m home dangerously. Hunter: Stop it. Crosshair: I’m home lethally.

Wrecker: *shatters a window and climbs through it* Wrecker: *turns around and helps Omega through it* Breaking and entering is wrong Omega. Omega: Okay.

Tech: May luck (and this picture of Wrecker eating shredded cheese at 3 in the morning) be with you.

Tech: Hello friends! The Squad: Tech: You might be wondering why I’m taped to the ceiling

Hunter: I am in charge of this disaster! Crosshair: I have a name, you know.

Echo: Protip is you do not feel good about yourself after eating tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce. Wrecker: What's wrong with you?? Echo: I literally JUST said I ate tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce?? Pay attention. Omega: No, he means other than that. Echo: Ohhhhhh. Echo: I haven't slept in 4 days.

Wrecker: Every zoo is a petting zoo unless you’re a coward. Hunter: I’m worried about you.

Tech: You are, of course, wondering why it is I have brought you here tonight. Echo: Actually, Tech, after all these years, I just sort of go with it.

Hunter: It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free: pouring river water in your socks! Tech: Why would I do that? Hunter: It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free!

Tech: Could you be anymore annoying? Crosshair: Yes.

Wrecker: We’re kind of missing something guys. Omega: Cohesion? Crosshair: Teamwork? Tech: A general sense of what we’re doing? Echo: And Hunter is not here. Omega: Oh, and that, yeah.

Tech: The adjective for metal is metallic. Tech: But not so for iron, which is ironic. Crosshair: It's 3am.

Crosshair: *sneaking in through the window* Echo: *turning in his chair and flicking the light on* You want to tell me where you've been all night? Crosshair: I was with Hunter? Hunter: *turning in his chair* Wanna try again?

Echo: Let's get personal. What's the hardest thing you've ever had to say? Tech: I need help. Hunter: I'm sorry. Crosshair: I was wrong. Wrecker: Worcestershire sauce.

Omega, when Wrecker walks in: Oh, hey, I'm just making pizza. Omega: *accidentally smacks Tech in the face with the baking sheet*

Echo: What's gone wrong, Hunter? Hunter: Hey! That’s one hell of a thing to say to a person. Just because I’m calling doesn’t mean there’s a crisis. Echo: That’s technically true, I suppose. Why are you calling? Hunter: Well... There’s a crisis.

Wrecker: Omega, can you help me? All of my clothes keep disappearing for some reason. Omega, wearing a hoodie that's 5 times bigger than her size: Spooky.

Tech: Throw lamps at people who need to lighten up, and throw handles at someone who needs to get a grip! Hunter: Throw a refrigerator at someone who needs to chill! Echo: Throw scissors at someone who needs to cut it out! Wrecker: Throw a clock at someone who needs to get with the times! Omega: Throw matches at someone who needs to get fired up! Crosshair: Throw a brick at someone to kill them.

Tech: You're pathetic! Wrecker: You're pathetic-er! Crosshair: You're both losers.

Hunter walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: Wrecker, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK. Wrecker, sipping coffee happily: I love you too :)

Tech: You need to stop swearing so much. Echo: Shut the fuck up. Tech: Yeah, that's not how you do it. Echo: Alright sorry. It's just that it's hard not to swear. The words just creep up on me when I least expect it. Tech: Now now, don't be like that. Just replace the swear words with 'beep' and you'll be fine. Echo: Shit the beep up. Tech: Echo: SHUT, DAMMIT! I MEANT SHUT!

Omega: If I run and leap at Hunter, he will most certainly catch me in his arms. Omega, running towards Hunter: Coming in! Hunter: No! I’m holding coffee! Hunter: *Drops coffee and catches Omega*

Wrecker: I think this might be a bad idea... Crosshair: Don't start thinking on me now!

Tech: Just be careful, Wrecker! Wrecker: *heading out the door* I'm always careful, Tech! Wrecker: It's everything around me that's careless.

Hunter: I hope you have an explanation for this. Wrecker: We have three actually- Tech: Pick your favorite.

Echo: I have so much energy, I want to run a marathon or commit a crime... which should I do? Hunter: Please don’t get arrested. Echo: No promises! <3 Tech: Why not both? Get creative! Echo: Wonderful suggestion, thank you. Hunter: Please don’t encourage them, Tech.

Crosshair & Omega: *accidentally set the kitchen on fire* Crosshair: We need an adult! Omega: Crosshair, you are an adult! Crosshair: We need an adultier adult! Get Hunter!

Tech, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe? Echo: Yeah, sure. *A few minutes later* Echo: Here you go. Tech: Echo: Crosshair: Why am I here?

#incorrect bad batch quotes #incorrect quotes #the bad batch #tbb #star wars #echo chose chaos this time

636 notes · View notes

kimbap-r0ll · 8 months

Note

Could I request the Vil, Epel, Azul, and Jamil with a who's basically the "team mom" of the first years? She's known for making snacks for the group, scolding them when mess around, getting protective of her friends when they're in danger, etc.

Hi, thank you for the ask! Sorry I'm getting to these asks so late, uni's starting up again and that means I'm starting to get busy again haha. This seems like a fun idea, thank you!

Vil, Epel, Azul, Jamil x mom-friend!reader

Vil

He's glad that you're extremely responsible but at the same time feels bad for you because you're constantly having to babysit your friends haha

Vil is the type of person to notice when you get tired or stressed really quickly, so even if you aren't completely burned out he'll make you do a self-care day with him

I feel like he liked you because of how you were protective of your friends from danger and you had no problem dealing with your friends' antics. If he was in your position he knows he would've had a headache 24/7, so he admires you

I feel like a lot of students would be scared of the two of you because of how strong you seem, but what sets you apart from Vil is how you're able to still be extremely kind and caring (not saying Vil isn't, he's just bad at showing it). He likes the sweet side of you that shows up from time to time

Epel

He was at odds with you first when you told him what he was doing was dangerous and things like that. However, after you two got closer, he realized that you weren't just a "no-fun" person and rather you cared a lot about the people you cared

Definitely tried to make you do some daring things while you two go on dates. While yes being a mom-friend does mean you are prone to saying "that's dangerous you're going to lose an arm" you aren't the type to say no when it comes to something new. I feel like it's a nice balance of safe and fun

You probably saved him from Vil a few times, mainly with him asking you to talk to him with you since Vil is such a scary person haha

Overall he likes that you're super caring and that you sometimes help him adjust to Pomefiore's rules. He wants to be someone people can rely on as well, and so you're sort of a role-model to him too

Azul

I feel like he tried to recruit you into the Monstro Lounge when he found out how efficient you are and how you're super good at catching details. However, he was scared of you a little bit because of how you were able to spot his more manipulative side extremely quickly unlike most students

I feel like once you two get to know each other, he sort of finds comfort in you unlike the comfort he's ever felt after mastering spells and such. You make him feel like he doesn't have to be perfect around you, and he admires how you are able to show kindness to everyone

You two are probably the reason the lounge is extremely well-organized. Whenever something slightly goes wrong, every Octavinelle student working there will come running to you before running to Azul now haha

When he saw how you were like around the first years, I feel like he could sympathize. He's had to manage so many different kinds of people through contracts, but for you it was like you were saving them from fire 24/7

Jamil

Ace joked that you two were going to date because of how similar you two were, turns out it's not a joke anymore!

Jamil and you first got close after taking care of Kalim's antics and then his friends (which were also your friends) and their shenanigans. Jamil and you often joked about how you two were like the parents of the group

Even though he's stressed out of his mind, he goes out of his way to make sure you aren't fatigued. If you need anything from him, whether it would be a cup of tea or just some time to read, he's there to help. I feel like he would almost be a mom-friend to you too haha

Overall you two are literally nicknamed "mom" and "dad" by students because you two sort of act like that haha. I think what Jamil would admire the most about you would be how even though you're strict and aren't scared to face danger, it's because you care about your friends and want the best for them

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #anon ask #twst scenarios #twst headcanons #twst x reader #twst vil #twst vil x reader #twst epel #twst epel x reader #twst azul #twst azul x reader #twst jamil #twst jamil x reader

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moonrisecoeur · 6 months

Text

soothing - leon kennedy

a/n: (PLEASE READ) hey! this is moon! this post would not show up in the tags with the long and detailed warning i put on it, so i made that a separate post. please read this post first before you even look at this one (that post will have the normal info like what content is it and word count along with more notes).

—

leon knows you’re… obsessive. he’s noticed your harsh glares and you possessively holding his waist when you’re both out together. he doesn’t miss the way you talk to other people, especially other people you know would theoretically be leon’s type. he assures you that he’s yours, he belongs to you, that no one will never get to have him the way you do, but it doesn’t make those feelings go away for you; it only mellows them for a short while.

he can’t say he planned for his partner to be so insanely obsessed with him, but it does make him feel better sometimes. especially when he’s having really rough days. when he feels worthless, like the only purpose of his existence is to be a weapon for the government to apathetically throw at problems, you’re there. you remind him, in your own twisted little way, that he’s valuable to someone. even if it’s in a “i need you like i need oxygen so no one else can ever have you and no one else deserves to lay a finger on you i will cut their hands off if they try” kinda way.

the world is fucked up anyway, who’s to say he gets to judge moral character? you make him feel desired and wanted, so what if you’re not a good person?

he’s rather introverted anyway, so it’s not like he’s going out every night and meeting new people. combine that with low self esteem and trauma from, well, being leon, he’s drained and can’t be bothered to care if you’re a little too obsessed.

hell, his last ‘relationship’, if you could call it that, was with a girl who tricked and betrayed him time after time and yet he loved her despite it all. maybe he has a type for the bad ones.

he loves you now. he knows he loves you. he knew he loved you when you once risked everything to save him, and he knew you loved him when you got very brutal revenge on his behalf. he kinda likes your violent side when it works in his favor.

but he still tries to keep you from doing the worst that he knows you’re capable of. he knows if he said more than a few words, or god forbid smiled at any of his friends who you thought ‘wanted him’ (because why does literally everyone want to fuck him?) you’d lose it. he tries to keep your temper contained, so he plays nice, though it’s worth it to him.

to have someone want him so badly that they’d kill for him and do anything to keep him… the idea makes leon’s knees weak. he’d do anything to feel wanted and needed for you. the more you claim him as yours, marking your territory, the more butterflies he feels in his stomach.

you tell someone, “he’s mine, so either back off or i swear that i will fucking rip out your teeth one by one.” he watches them run away pitifully, before turning his attention back to you. you’re smiling at him, and bring your hand up to play with his hair.

“sorry you had to see that, know you don’t like it,” you say softly.

he brushes it off, because he always does. he knows you mean well (even if you don’t). he knows you only threaten others or act violently because you love him and he needs that love. besides, you’re so thoughtful for apologizing because you know he doesn’t like seeing this side of you (which is not entirely true but he did feel bad for that person).

one day, you stumble upon him in your shared room while he’s crying. he tells you it’s okay, it happens, he’s learned how to get through it by himself. you shake your head, noting that this obviously isn’t okay. you sit next to him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him, and you two sit like that for just a moment.

“you’re okay,” your voice stills the air, brings him back to reality, “you’re not in danger, and i’m gonna be here to protect you, okay? i’m here because i care about you, so let me care for you, baby.”

he nods with tears in his eyes, resting his head on your shoulder. he’s forgotten what it feels like for someone to really care, to hold him and tell him he was going to be alright.

after a moment, he’s able to get his breathing under control.

“thank you…” he whispers.

“of course, baby, i’m here for you. i’m always gonna be here for you, i care about you so, so much, leon. no one else will ever care for you the way i do, as much as i do,” you murmur, and he doesn’t seem to notice something glaringly wrong with what you just said.

he doesn’t notice the thoughts swirling around in your head, adoring how fragile he is right now, wanting him to always be like this so he’s always this vulnerable, this dependent on you. he can’t notice any of it. he just lets you hold him, and holds you back in return.

you hold each other until he starts to pull away first, rubbing his teary eyes with the back of his hand, “god, i- i’m sorry. jeez, nothing even set it off. one minute i- i was fine! and the next…” he trails off, and you tell him he’s okay. he’s allowed to be vulnerable and emotional with you. you like him like this anyway. or maybe you just like the way his blue eyes shine when he cries.

and you’re wayyy too overpowering just as a person for him to ever be in charge, especially in bed. sometimes it’ll be soft, just two lovers touching and fondling each other, gasping and moaning and kissing wherever possible. but sometimes your possessive side comes out. it happens the most when he does something you don’t like, i.e. ‘flirting’ with someone else (he was just talking and joking around).

he does like your possessive side though. he likes being pinned down, and if you think you’re not strong enough, trust me, you can put yourself in the right position to make it so he can’t get out from under you. or you could just handcuff him or tie him up, that always works, but there is just something about being physically held down and kissed until his brain shuts off that makes him into a perfect fucktoy.

he likes when you pull out a marker and write stuff like ‘mine <3’ or ‘property of y/n’ on him. especially if it’s with a permanent marker and in a place that people can easily see, on his wrist or neck. he feels claimed, owned, a sense of being property belonging to someone else, not himself.

despite loving your darkness, leon appreciates that you’re rather… soft on him. you take it slow so he has time to adjust, make his heart jump with love and affection every single time you praise him (which you do often bc how could you not? it’s leon, c’mon now) he knows you have it in you to be harder, to fully degrade and humiliate him if you really wanted to. you choose not to.

one day you come home, covered in what he can assume is not your blood. his stomach drops at the thought of what you did, and he goes through every possible interaction he had that day that could have made you do something so drastic, so terrible and cruel. he comes up with nothing.

“what… happened?” he asks, nervously. he tries to keep distance between his body and yours, but you’re closing in on him.

“killed two birds with one stone… literally…” you smirked as he takes a cautious step back, feeling what used to be butterflies in his stomach turn to this heavy sense of dread, “that girl that told you your eyes were ‘so pretty’ and… that guy that touched your arm like he wanted to fucking bite it. don’t worry, sweetheart. i took care of them.”

were you expecting him to thank you? for… committing murder? he’s… at best he’s disappointed and at worst he’s literally horrified.

and it’s terribly timed, but on a separate note? you look insanely hot covered in blood. maybe the feeling in his stomach is only half fear and half something else, or maybe one of his kinks is being afraid for his life. who knows?

you come closer to him, and he can’t find it in himself to ask you to stop approaching him, closing in on him like a predator does it’s prey, “baby,” you murmur to him, softly like you do when you’re soothing him when he’s crying, your hands both coming up to cup his face, getting blood all over his cheeks. your thumb brushes against his bottom lip and he swears you’re intentionally smearing blood on it, “it’s okay,” you say.

it’s not okay, dude. you just killed two people.

maybe you’ve killed more that leon doesn’t know about, and tonight was the night you felt like having him see you like this. you could have gotten away with it if you wanted to, and he would never have known, but you chose to let him find you like this, clothes ruined from how much blood splattered on them, that sadistic ass smile on your face.

you wanted this. you wanted him to see you like this. you wanted to take him like this.

you lean in, pressing a bloody kiss to his forehead (imagine whatever kinda scenario necessary that fits this height wise for u i’m sorry >.<) before leaning in to kiss his lips, both tasting the iron and feeling the wetness of the blood dripping down your chins as he touches you back gently, his hands caressing your arms as you hold him and landing softly on your hips, like he’s saying it’s okay, i accept you for the monster you are.

he knows it’s wrong, he knows he’s a good person and you’re not and there’s a clear line that you’ve brazenly crossed, but he can’t help the butterflies he gets when you’re the darkest, cruelest version of you. covered in blood and all, you want him. despite all his flaws, you want him. he can’t deny you, not when you’ve only ever soothed him when he has traumatized breakdowns and assured him that he’s more than just a weapon or a tool, that he’s loved and needed and wanted.

you press one of your legs between his thighs, forcing his legs open and he lets you, whining as you continue to kiss him, and your hand palms him over his jeans. he feels weak, cornered, and you know you’ve got him right where you want him when you lean to whisper in his ear, “mine.” and he whimpers pathetically, nodding fast as you kiss his neck just a couple times, gently and bloodily.

despite everything, you’re just so endlessly gentle with him that he can’t help but let you get away with this. maybe if he could just get the image of their faces out of his head, he could get over it. once you’ve made him cum three times in a row, his body on the brink of giving out on him, safe to say that’s when he finally forgets. he can’t really think much of anything.

“oh, sweet little thing, don’t you understand? i had to get rid of her, she wanted to get in the way of our love,” you say. and he’d just nod dazedly.

“o-okay,” he mumbles. his brain is foggy and your touch makes it hard to think, but if you say it’s true, then he’s inclined to believe you. clearly, you were doing the right thing by getting rid of her. obviously.

“and that poor boy, it’s too bad that he was a whore, wanted to grope your muscles so fucking bad, hm?” you smirk, “did you like it when he did that? when he touched you?”

“n-no, i-i only like when you do stuff like that to me,” he says he exactly what you want to hear, grasping onto you for support, knowing without you he’d fall apart, “please, i don’t care what you do or… or who you hurt because you love me! just please love me!”

“of course i’ll love you,” your tone softens, you take the victory with a smirk turned soft smile, brushing his hair out of his eyes behind his ear, “you’re so pretty when you’re obedient.”

conditional praise; truly the best way to manipulate him for example: “you’re such a good boy when you only look at me.” that’s his kryptonite, because leon thrives off of praise. being told he’s a good boy makes him giddy on the inside, even if he tries to control his reaction. praise is how you control him.

and after you’re done with him, you put your clothes in the washing machine, take a shower, and walk out like your normal self. he makes you both dinner and you cuddle him to sleep just like usual. though while you’re fast asleep, he lays awake, thinking about what just happened.

he’s always known this could happen, and maybe this isn’t even the first time you’ve killed someone because of him. he’s known for a while now that you’ve become cruel and violent when it came to his relationships with other people, but he can’t shake the feeling of fear deep inside his soul when he physically saw what you’re capable of.

even in your sleep, you touch is soothing to him, and he remembers that he doesn’t really have any better options. he’s convinced no one will ever love him as strongly as you do (not just because you’ve told him that but because again, he’s got low self esteem and you’re way nicer to him than he feels like he deserves).

does he just let you be? no, that wouldn’t sit right on his conscious. does he continue to try and curb your violent tendencies against his better judgement and morals?

or does he try to leave you? he thinks he knows you wouldn’t ever truly hurt him, and he wonders whether or not you’d let him leave if he tried. (he’s not going to, but he wonders...) he just… doesn’t see what else he would do. find someone else? they won’t love him like you do. be single? sure, and be miserable every day because all he can think about is your love, your touch, you.

“what do i do with you…” he mumbles to your sleeping form, resting his head against your chest, feeling the slow heartbeat pumping inside. he likes how it shows your humanity, your normalcy. the one thing about you that doesn’t feel so far away from him.

leon loves you. truly. he doesn’t want that fact to be overshadowed by how disproportionately and insanely you love him. he loves you, still cares about you, still wants to see you happy. you make him happy, in some ways, even if you really terrify him in others. you comfort him and soothe him, you assure him that he’s safe with he wakes up with nightmares from the horrors he’s seen.

he wants to care for you, wants to be the one to hold you when you’re sad and you’re having a bad day. somewhere deep inside his heart, he wants to protect you and keep you safe. even if he knows that’s absurd (because you’re a killer… god he can’t get over that..) he can’t help that his nature is to care for people. maybe that’s what drove you to such insanity in your love for him: in his heart, he never stopped caring about other people. he is the same selfless hero he always was. his softness and care for everyone around him is what made you fall for him… and what made you insane when it comes to your love for him.

despite how terrible you are, he remembers all that you’ve done for him, the moments where your softness and gentleness really showed. he loves that side of you the most. that’s the one he fell for, after all. but he’d be amiss to think that’s the only side of you, or to not acknowledge the other. your cruelty towards people other than him is a side of you just like your kindness towards him is a side of you. they coexist whether he likes it or not.

he comes to the conclusion that there is no sweet you without cruel you, and he must learn to love both or to love neither. he decides he’ll love both, but still maybe try to keep the evilness contained. maybe he can try to talk you out of killing more people.

and when he begs so pretty for you to focus on him and not on the girl trying to flirt with him at the coffee shop, how could you refuse him? if you pulling him away to suck dark, tender hickeys into his neck is the alternative to you killing that poor girl, then he’d say that’s a win-win.

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writingoddess1125 · 6 months

Text

You Get Buggy a Corgi

Cute Headcanon

Pure Fluff

◇ Bonus has some mild sadness

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

• Buggy has always wanted a Corgi- He's never talked about it but you did see he has a Corgi shaped pillow in his room that he's apparently had since he was a child-

• So you decide to get him one as a gift for his birthday.

• He always had big birthday bashes and it was the biggest party imaginable- The whole crew with more alcohol and food then a gods banquet while Buggy sat in the center jovial and proud.

• You walk over with a box in hand and carefully set it down infront of him, He raises a brow at the lack of flashy decoration on the brown box and pops open the lid with a unamused expression

• There a little head pops up and everyone stares at the happy Corgi face looking st Buggy and the blue bow around its neck

• His whole face flushes as you can quite literally see the childlike joy shine in his eyes- A bright smile on his face as he sets the puppy in his lap.

• "Her name is Guppy" You say as he mumbles the name and glances up at you. "She's mine?"

• "Yep! She's fully trained and apparently does really well on ships from what the shelter said" You say softly, but you're sure he isn't even paying attention to you as the dog seems to instantly love Buggy and scales him with her little body to press her face against his. You can quite literally see his heart melt.

• Clearly Guppy is his favorite gift ever since he doesn't pay attention to anything else accept for Guppy the rest of the night.

• You also get a special reward for bringing a wonderful gift.

• Guppy is absolutely a velcro dog- Loving to be at Buggys side 24/7 and follow him around. He gets her a red bandana so she's easy to spot at all times. If there is anything dangerous he will leave her behind but be sad about it-

• Later finds out she yaps like crazy when he's not there and cries loudly.

• She sleeps on him constantly, sometimes waking him up since she will curl directly over his face suffocating him.

• 'Mrph!- 'Upeee!!" {Guppy!} And ge carefully scoots her on the pillow next to his head so he can breath and go back to sleep-

• Guppy acts as a sort of Therapy dog for Buggy as well- When his temper or anxiety get him worked up to were he would usually destroy his room she will instead lay on his chest and force him to stay still as he Pets her and works himself down from a rage.

• She is also the perfect pillow for him to cry on. So he has pressed his face gently into her fur and just cried- Often she licks the tears away.

• Doesnt wear as heavy of makeup since he knows she likes to lick his face and doesn't want the grease paint to make her sick-

• Will also carry her- Say if the waters are too choppy but she doesn't want to be left he will just carry her like a baby to make sure she doesn't slide around or get hurt.

• If anyone- and I mean ANYONE Dares to mess with his dog he will absolutely go ape-shit... Think insulting his nose is instant death- Hurt his dog and he will come up with the worse ways to kill a person slowly-

• He probably loves Guppy more then any living person and makes sure she has a wonderful healthy life.

Bonus!-

• "Hey Buggy can I ask?- Why do you like Corgi's so much?" You ask laying next to him on the floor of his cabin. He pauses for a moment as he thinks.

• "Lots of reasons- They are soft, sweet, overall really loving and they are a little odd which I like.. But-" He pauses for a second.

• "...It's kinda weird but.. my first memory in life was of a Corgi and my mother-" He admitted and you looked surprised by this, asking for him to explain which he rolled his eyes but agreed.

• "It was the day she dropped me off at the orphanage.. She handed me that corgi pillow you see on my bed and some berry she shoved in my pockets. Telling me that she had to leave me here to make sure I was safe from bad guys-" He said calmly, but you could hear the hurt in his tone.

• "But if I was every in a situation were it was truly life or death all I had to say with three words and I'd be okay. Then she kisses my forehead and left. It's my first and last memories of her- A few years later Roger's picking me up to be his apprentice" He admitted as Guppy lived his face clearly sensing some sadness.

• "Im... I'm so sorry-.. What were the three words?" You asked now circus, but you saw the way his eyes drifted to you briefly

• "Eh- That's a story for a different time" He said with a smile and waved it off. Watching how he pet Guppy some more.

• However you laid there stewing.. 3 words?

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #one piece buggy #buggy the clown #buggy headcanons #buggy #op buggy

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alittlebitofloveliness · 30 days

Note

Well since you said it…

Ponyboy Curtis head canons and, if possible, cherry head canons 😁

I'll do Cherry later this weekend, but for now here's some Ponyboy headcanons!

-Has tried to quit smoking multiple times, usually because Darry wants him to, and never succeeded. The second he gets even the tiniest bit stressed he’s got a cigarette lit and back in his mouth. At this point he's pretty much accepted he's locked in for life

-Had to get glasses and HATES them so Darry pulled some overtime and got him contacts

-Worries a lot about Darry, not just because he tries to carry too much roofing at once and regularly hurts his back, but also because he’s terrified of what could happen if Darry was to somehow slip off a roof

-His middle class school friends think he’s REALLY cool (like Pony, they’re all a bunch of nerds) and Pony loves it because the entire gang very much does not

-His school friends are also TERRIFIED of the gang, like they see Two-bit or Steve coming to talk to him and hightail it out of there. They’re even scared of Johnny which Ponyboy thinks is hilarious (he doesn’t realize that Johnny’s dark gaze and bruises are terrifying to someone who doesn’t know how he got them)

-Thinks Curly Shepard is the funniest person alive and is determined that Curly never find that out

-Cannot for the life of him figure out why Johnny and Curly don’t get along

-Tutored Two-bit in English so he could finally graduate

-The gang is split between those who are determined to be a good influence on Pony and those who aren’t. Dally and Two-bit are the bad influences, Johnny tries to be a good influence, and Steve claims to not give a fuck but is the best influence of all in that he’s never let/asked/encouraged Pony to take part in illegal activities

-Pony thinks Curly Shepard is good looking in a dangerous way. Real good looking in fact.

-Is NOT afraid of girls no matter what that Johnny Cade says (I mean it man I ain’t SCARED of them, they just don think like us, and quit you’re laughing, it ain’t like you have any luck with girls either-)

-Is TERRIFIED of Tim Shepard

-Is also terrified of Angela Shepard because even though she has the same eyes as Curly, her's are like a snakes, all cold, emotionless and deadly, whereas Curly’s are always twinkling with ether mischief or anger

-He’s actually really good at stealing things (Two-bit taught him well), he just doesn’t do it often because he feels bad about it. But if a shop employee is rude to him he’s no holds barred and could leave with like half the store under his coat

-Can get away with literally ANYTHING in his English class after he gave Mr. Simes his theme, and uses that fact to his advantage

-Regularly falls asleep in his math class but manages to talk his teacher out of calling Darry every time

-He and Darry have the same taste in literature and regularly share/discuss books. It bores Soda to the point where he jokingly tells them to go back to arguing all the time because it was at least more entertaining to listen to

-Steps on peoples heels when he walks behind them

-HATES country music so fucking much and if Johnny plays that goddamn country record ONE more time-

-Is determined to make sure neither of his older brothers find our just how much time he spends with Curly Shepard

-Cut the blond out of his hair as soon as he possibly could, even though it made his hair shorter than he liked because he hated the light colour more than he hated the short length

-Has the worst poker face known to man but is actually decent at poker (because he cheats, but unlike Sodapop he’s good at cheating so he rarely gets caught)

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #curly shepard #angela shepard #tim shepard #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #dallas winston #headcanon #two bit mathews #steve randle #the outsiders headcanons

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 6 months

Text

Miguel's is wrong about how Canon works and here is why

I STILL can't get over how this guy says this entire thing, and SOMEHOW, doesn't realize of the glaring hole in his logic.

Now, if you are familiar with my blog, you had probably seen this post before; I had written about this in different essays, however I realized I don't have THE post dedicated exclusively to why Miguel is wrong about this, especially since a few arguments are different places, so I decided to do one for simplicity sake. I will include some small things that may be new, but really don't add much in the big scheme of things.

If you aren't familiar with my content and you think Miguel is right, I invite to read this post, and if by the end you still think he is right and I am in the wrong, please reblog with your arguments. I love discussing these things.

Let's go!

Did you catch the issue yet?

Here is the thing: How a canon event can happen if the person who caused it wasn't supposed to be there?

Miguel is blaming the hole on Miles, saying that it happened because it disrupted the canon event; yet what caused the canon event?

Spot. He did it.

However-

Spot isn't Pavitr's nemesis, he doesn't even give CARE about Pavitr.

And to top it all off-

The existence of Spot himself is supposed to be an anomaly, Miguel even says how none of this would had happened; including the canon incident that Miles allegedly interrupted.

This is why it doesn't make sense.

Spot is not the arch-nemesis of Pavitr, Spot didn't even want to talk to Pavitr and was mostly ignoring anyone who wasn't Miles. And again, MIGUEL SAYS HOW SPOT SHOULDN'T have EXISTED REGARDLESS.

How come Captain Singh was supposed to die in that bridge, if this wasn't the fight he is suppose to kick said event?

Because remember, Miguel says it needs to be a battle against an arch-nemesis too; meaning that if this needed to happen today, THE CANON EVENT WAS ALREADY DISRUPTED BECAUSE THE WRONG PERSON DID IT.

If anything, Miles should had been doing exactly what he did, because if Captain Singh needed to die while Pavitr was battling against and arch-nemesis, Captain Singh dying NOW means that can't happen.

"BUT THERE IS A BLACK HOLE BECAUSE MILES SAVED THE CAPTAIN!"

No, that thing literally happen before we ever saw the Captain.

Let's recapitulate what is going on in these images. The explosion created this black matter that is slowly growing and absorbing the building, and then on the spot where building fell, instead of the building, there is a black hole that is doing the exact thing as the dark matter was doing, absorbing the material it touches.

There is no way in hell I am not thinking these two things aren't the same thing; it wouldn't make sense to have that black matter absorbing the building, and then magically disappear, just to have the black hole from the "interrupted canon event."

"But Lyla said it detected a canon event!"

Oh this is the part I haven't made a comment about, I can't say is 100% a rebuttal but it makes me laugh.

"Markers are predicting a canon event."

What Lyla (or whatever system Miguel has) is detecting, is the fact that Captain Singh is in danger, that's what Lyla is picking up.

However, is only picking on the fact that Captain Singh is in danger, not on the fact that this isn't a fight between Pavitr and his Arch-Nemesis; or how arguably the fact this is happening when the battle is done could count as an anomaly too.

This thing is working EXACTLY like AI and is making me cackle so hard.

For those who don't know, computers are stupid, extremely stupid; every time you are surprised a computer picked on something, that's because a human was behind to program to detect those things.

If you ever fear the idea of "Computers taking over the world," take a few programming classes, or just try to code yourself from youtube videos. You tell a phrase to a human, and even if you miss a word or something, chances are the person can still understand what you are trying to say; you miss one letter while coding, and the computer has a meltdown.

Miguel most probably made the data with things that seems to align with "canon events", and have Lyla detect whatever seems to resemble any of those models.

So basically, this works as well as Youtube's algorithm, in which you could see a video talking about how a show is trash and fails in several points, and then in your recommendations appears videos of people praising the show; because the only thing it picked on was the show and that was it.

"But Miguel says how the universe he was got destroyed for defying canon!"

Here is my problem with that, none of the examples Miguel has about an "universe breaking for breaking canon" look the same.

Let's break it down.

Miguel's second universe: Things glitch briefly before they start crumbling and disappear entirely.

Pavtir's universe after the Spot: Hole starts sinking an entire building and it is led to believe more can be dragged.

Miles's universe in ITSV: Things glitch, that's it, in other instances is shown to have other things to take it's place, but that's about it.

None of these behave the same, which would be weird if these ones were all truly, all breaking apart because canon was broken; shouldn't it all behave the same is they broke for all of them defying it's canon?

Yet what a coincidence that none of this looks so weird once you put context behind it.

Pavitr's universe is being swallowed by a hole just after the guy who creates holes and wants to open some more became a multidimensional monster thanks to a big Collider who of course can magnify the Spot's effect.

And Miles universe ONLY glitches when someone is messing up with the Collider.

Watch ITSV again, tell me one, ONE instance when the universe seems to be falling apart that isn't explained by Kingpin activating the Collider. Or do me one better, show me one time the Universe seems to glitching when something that "isn't canon" is happening.

The only universe I don't have an explanation from, is the universe where we DON'T see what happened, and instead we are told by the same guy who is making this entire theory.

What a coincidence, huh?

There is technically more I could bring to the table (Miguel saying is Miles's fault this is happening being astronomically stupid; on the fact that Spot exists and has multiple spiders but Miles universe is still fine) but for now I think this is enough.

If anyone can think anything that I may have missed, please reblog with said comment; I had learned a lot of things by rebutting people before.

Don't get me wrong, I could be wrong! I am not above thinking I may be missing something or mess up, but so far the right person to do so hasn't appeared.

BONUS: Miguel is just doing his best!

I had repeated this a lot of times, but I am still fairly angry about it, so let me repeat it again.

Wanting to do your best, or being traumatized, doesn't excuse the harm you do to others. The more damage you do, the least you can excuse said actions.

Miguel is so focused on his martyr complex he cannot notice an incongruity as he is explaining the problem to Miles. The audience not catching onto this makes sense, but Miguel? You have an idea, how astronomically bad it is that you are letting the faith of the multi-verse at risk because you are so traumatized you cannot see what's in front of you?

Here is my take on all of this: Miguel's focuses more about his own pain than the multiverse, why? Because if that wasn't the case, he would had caught on the mistakes a while ago.

The fact that he is so hurt that he refuses to see things another way, or think another possibilities, is putting the multiverse in danger.

Is thinking that Pavitr's universe may fall apart because a guy didn't die instead of investigating how the dark matter works and how to stop it.

Is saying Miles is at fault for being bitten, despite the Spot being the one to bring the spiders, and still has multiple of them.

Is the fact that he is letting people suffer by making people live horrible tragedies, that if I am as right as I think am about this, could had been avoided.

I had seen people who were abused go out to abuse others, I had seen people excuse horrible behaviour because they had a bad childhood or were stress out; as if that means is okay to continue with the cycle.

And I don't tolerate that shit.

Sorry ending it with that, this is a topic that really drives me up the wall.

Thank you for anyone who came along in this ready! As always if you have the chance please support my ko-fi, and if you can’t, please share this post around!

#atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara #lyla spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 #LYrate Lifeform Approximation #miles morales #spiderman #spiderverse

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zot3-flopped · 2 months

Text

Two months prior to its release, would-be doyens of Swift’s Tortured Poets Department have taken its barbed track listing very literally, leading to intense, often nefarious speculation regarding Swift’s six-year relationship with the British actor Joe Alwyn, which seemingly ended in early 2023.

The album’s title, revealed onstage at the Grammy awards, was quickly linked to a December, 2022 interview with Alwyn and Paul Mescal in which they revealed that Andrew Scott started their group chat, the Tortured Man Club. (“It hasn’t had much use recently,” Alwyn said: you wonder if it’s undergone a recent revival.) Swift revealed the leading track list a day later: My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys, So Long, London, I Can Do It With a Broken Heart, The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived, to name a few, sending fans wild with speculation.

Swift, obviously, has every right to sing about her relationships however she wants to (no apologies to Eamonn Holmes). But in the absence of any music, some fans have spread baseless, dangerous and even libellous allegations about Alwyn’s conduct (which, for obvious reasons, I can’t repeat).

Last month, a brief fan-shot video of them dining in a New Orleans restaurant in December, 2022 was recirculated online with AI-doctored audio that made it sound as though Alwyn is saying “you don’t get to tell me about sad,” a line printed on the back of one of the new album’s four physical editions.

When Swift recently told a crowd that she was “lonely” when writing her 2020 album Folklore – some of which was co-written with Alwyn during the pandemic, a lonely time for most – fans took that as further confirmation of their theories. A live medley of three songs that all appear to reference cheating threw petrol on the fire.

Swift could make this stop. She is no stranger to airing her displeasure with the likes of Ticketmaster, Scooter Braun, Spotify and Apple Music, and, occasionally, politicians. Before she released Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) last year, she gave a veiled speech at one Eras tour date effectively asking fans not to go after John Mayer, whom she dated when she was 19 and he was 32 and is understood to be the subject of that album’s Dear John.

“I am not putting this album out so you should feel the need to defend me on the internet against someone you think I wrote a song about 14m years ago when I was 19,” she said in Minneapolis.

But for whatever reason – and obviously, no member of the public has any idea what transpired between her and Alwyn so far – this time she has opted to stay quiet.

Establishing a baseline for conduct is neither commercially risky nor unprecedented: just last week, Ariana Grande said, after the release of her post-divorce album Eternal Sunshine: “Anyone that is sending hateful messages to the people in my life based on your interpretation of this album is not supporting me and is absolutely doing the polar opposite of what I would ever encourage”.

It feels like the endgame of a cat-and-mouse act that’s gone too far. Swift’s gestures towards meaning have led every single thing she does to be considered a kind of marketing, a clue to be solved. It leaves a superstar who’s usually hot on her messaging open to misinterpretation: hints about her personal life are turned by some fans into witch-hunts for anyone perceived to have wronged her; her current silence on politics allows politicians to invoke her name, from the New South Wales police commissioner quoting Swift’s anti-haters lines while defending police to Joe Biden joking that the matter of her apparently much sought-after endorsement is “classified” on Late Night With Seth Meyers.

When Swift made a blandly neutral handwritten post encouraging US citizens to register to vote on Super Tuesday, some fans speculated that her unusual left-leaning handwriting was the real indication of her loyalties – suggesting they’re so starved of substance that they’re reading into empty messages because of this dynamic she has established. (The more likely explanation is the insane way she holds a pen.)

For Swift to only direct fans as to her wishes when it suits her, it weakens her status as a truth-teller. If the comparisons with Dickinson mean anything, she might remember that nothing in the world has as much power as a word feels like the endgame of a cat-and-mouse act that’s gone too far.

#taylor swift #anti taylor swift #joe alwyn #travis kelce #the tortured poets department #the critics are not going to be kind to this album #she's too rich & successful to be so bitchy & vindictive #laura snapes

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smuttyfang · 7 months

Text

Price, One More Time

I’m just a filthy whore for this man. Sorry.

Words: 3.194

Sitting in the bar on your day off, you take another sip of your drink. It felt like you spent every day off that you had here, drinking time away. Not that you were having a hard time necessarily, just that you couldn’t get your own fucking captain out of your mind. God, something about him just had you so worked up over him. The feeling wouldn’t leave you no matter how hard you tried. His charisma, his confidence, that fucking smile, the way he walked, the way he talked, his accent, fuck. It consumed you at this point. So you sat here, drinking yourself silly only to go home alone. Truthfully, you genuinely liked him as a person of course. You knew he was such a caring man, always taking care of and worrying for others. Always knew the right thing to do. You respected him above all else. But.. wouldn’t it also be nice if he would just bend you over a table and rail you senseless? Of course it would.

“You really shouldn’t spend so much time here, love.” God dammit. There the problem (and the solution) was, as if on cue. Of course using that fucking nickname, too. Like he heard your thoughts. That sweet accent dripping from his tongue made your heart melt. “You’re gonna feel like shit when we go out again.”

“Yeah I know.” You sigh, taking another sip of your drink. You realize now how much you’d actually been drinking, feeling the dizziness setting in.

“Why don’t I join you this time?” You felt your heart literally jumping for joy as he took a seat at the bar next to you. “I didn’t have any plans.” He smiled at you so sweetly before ordering himself a whiskey. You could tell he was worried about you. His whiskey was quickly placed in front of him and he started drinking. “I know it’s not quite my business, love.” God, there he goes again.. using that name. “I do have to tell you that I’m worried about you. It’s not good to spend your days off like this.” You put your face into your hands, sighing.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you worry. I’m just.. really fucking frustrated.” He watched you for a minute, like he was trying to gauge how to approach the subject without upsetting you.

“I’m here.” He says quietly. “You’re on my team, and I’m here for you. That focus is needed when we are on missions. If there’s anything I can do, all you have to do is ask, love.” Feeling the warmth and change in your body from the alcohol, you breathe in deeply and sigh.

“You.. could help, yes. But I don’t know how you are going to feel about it.” He orders another whiskey after finishing his first. You want to scream at him all the things you’ve been feeling about him, for the sheer desperation and frustration you've felt this whole time, but you fight it and try to approach him gently.

“Tell me.” He says, watching you with worried eyes. It makes you feel even worse seeing him like this.

“I.. can we go somewhere more private?” You ask. He nods, paying for one last quick drink before leaving the bar with you.

“I’ve got a room close by, we can talk there.” You nod your head, mostly staying silent as you follow him. It doesn’t take long for you to arrive at the room. He allows you in. It’s quite a simple room, good enough for a soldier having a few days off. “Sit down on the bed and tell me what’s wrong, love.” You stay standing.

“Price, I-“ You kept getting choked up trying to spit it out. You felt a lump in your throat, and the harder you tried the bigger it felt.

“Now you’re really making me worried. Is it that serious? Are you in danger of some sort?” He holds his hands up, trying to get you to calm down.

“No, no! I’m so sorry. I’m- I’m not in danger.” He breathes out.

“Good.” He nods his head. “Okay. Tell me.”

“I appreciate you being patient. I just.. listen to me.” He watches you, crossing his arms. You can tell what that means. He’s getting impatient. “So. Do you remember how we used to always flirt with each other?” He chuckles.

“Yeah.. you just stopped one day. All at once..” He sounded almost sad, but you weren’t sure.

“I stopped because it just.. it was never going anywhere. It felt like torture, not being able to do anything about it. Not being able to just.. initiate anything.” You sighed, feeling pathetic for acting like this. “But you still keep doing it, and I can’t get you out of my fucking head.” You can’t meet his eyes, but you hear him move toward you.

“Do you want me out of your head?” He asks. You feel him getting close to you.

“God, no. I don’t. But I want you.. physically. Not just in my head. I need you in both ways. John.” You’d never called him by his first name before, and you almost felt afraid of being reprimanded. You hear nothing but silence for a few moments as he thinks.

“Look at me, love.” He sweetly uses his finger to lift your chin and make you look at him. You felt your heart flutter. “Do you remember the reason you told me you joined the military?” He asks you. Of course you remember.

“I wanted to be more brave.” You tell him.

“That’s right. Well, then, perhaps you should try something new.. something that scares you. Kiss me. Just to see if there's any chemistry.” You looked at him, your face hot from the mixture of embarrassment and alcohol. He comes close to you, placing his hand on your cheek. “Do it for me. Prove to me how brave you are.” It was like a switch flipped in your brain. You’d do anything on this earth to make this man happy, and you did.

“Yes, sir..” You pressed your lips to his as quickly as you could manage. It lasts only for a few moments, but it felt like your mood had completely flipped. You were over the moon. You wrapped your arms around him as the kiss came to an end, his face flushing with a blushing hue. As you both pulled away, Price looked at you, watching your reaction. “So.. chemistry?”

"That's most definitely chemistry.” He replied, letting out a chuckle. " My, my.. you're good at this. How about another kiss? Just to be sure, of course?” You couldn’t help but giggle at his comment.

“I would never tell you no.” You chuckle as you kiss him once more, lingering even longer this time.

"I'm very appreciative that you took this initiative all by yourself. I’m proud of you. " He praised you as one of his hands cupped your cheek. Fuck, hearing him praise you made you feel like you were on top of the world. Nothing and nobody else could make you feel so excited. He leaned forward to place a second kiss right on your lips, slowly breaking away. A slight smile showed on his features along with a blush on his face. “Most definitely chemistry..” He added on, as if stating the obvious.

“It wasn’t easy, I’ll tell you that.” You sigh nervously. “I have an easier time shooting bad guys, but you make me so god damn nervous. In a good way.” You chuckle, still shaking a little. He notices this, gently holding your hand to get you to steady yourself.

"Is it because you have genuine feelings for me?" He asks, tilting his head to the side with a raised eyebrow. "I want you to speak your mind. I know my charms are rather hard to resist. But it seems you really have it bad for me, don't you?”

“God, John. You have no idea.” You shakily sigh. “You are incredible in so many different ways.” He grins with that cheeky smile he always does.

“Oh? Tell me more.” You roll your eyes at him.

“You already have a big head, I don’t want to make it bigger.” You both laugh with each other. “But really.. you’re so handsome and kind. You’re caring. You always know what to do. You always have everything under control. You’re.. amazing.” Price seems to crumble a little bit at your words, looking down at the floor and genuinely smiling.

“Thank you, love. I.. do the best that I can.” You see his eyes light up as he smiles at you. “You’re absolutely beautiful, do you know that? I’ve not been able to take my eyes off of you ever since I met you.” It felt like your dream was actually coming true and you were ecstatic.

“I don’t know about all of that, but thank you.” You smile at him, but upon looking at him you notice that he is no longer smiling. He looks down at you, tilting your chin up to look him directly in the eyes.

“No, no. You don’t get to do that.” He shakes his head. “Take the compliment correctly.” Your heart feels like it’s fluttering like crazy now, looking up at him like this.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” You say.

“Sorry, what?” He asks, smiling at you cheekily.

“Sorry, sir.” You say, completely under his spell.

“‘Atta girl.” That’s better.” He noticed you leaning into his touch as he held your face, feeling you push yourself as close to him as possible. The look in your eyes said it all, that you were absolutely desperate for him. “My god, you really want me. Don’t you?” His face turned into a serious one. You felt absolutely pathetic over this man, but you couldn’t help it.

“I really do. I do.” You tell him. He looks like he can’t believe it, like he’s never had someone so needy for him before. You became more aware of his cologne as he shifted around a little bit. He smelled so good. One more thing to add to the list of reasons you just couldn’t stop yourself around him. Once he regained his composure a little, that signature cheeky grin returned.

“You still have to take my orders though, you know that. Right?” You nodded your head as he leaned down to kiss your neck, already making you whimper a little bit for him. He chuckled. “Then strip. And lie down on the bed for me, love.” You quickly nod your head, stripping all of your clothing away and tossing it aside. He does the same after you, and you watch him closely. He was so nicely built. His back was one thing you loved so much. It had a nice curve to it that was hard to look away from. He had some hair on his chest too. You couldn’t help but bite your lip finally getting to see him like this. You could also see he was getting hard, and he was a pretty damn decent size. As you eyed him, he raised an eyebrow at you. “I gave you an order, didn’t I? Love?” He questioned you. You quickly moved to the bed, crawling onto it and lying down for him. He quickly followed you, crawling on top of you. He looked down at you. “Apologize for not doing it when you were told.”

“Fuck..” You could cum right then and there. “I’m sorry, sir.” He nodded his head.

“That’s a good girl. Don’t upset me again, do you understand?” You nodded your head, but he shook his. “Say it.”

“Yes, sir..” You practically moan out, making him chuckle. He begins kissing you again. He starts with your lips, moving to your neck, then moving lower and lower until he reaches your breasts. He looks up at you and never takes his eyes off of you as he takes one into his mouth, sucking on it. Your eyes roll to the back of your head just from him doing this, pleasure coursing straight down between your legs. He pulls away with a ‘pop’ switching to the other one for a minute. He leaves them hard and wet, then working his way down your stomach. He pushes your legs fully apart.

“Put your legs on my back, love.” He requests.

“Yes, s-sir..” You whimper out, lying your legs across his back as his face now sat right between your legs.

“You are so gorgeous, good god.” He admitted, making you feel like you could cry from joy. That feeling was almost immediately gone once he used a finger on you. He ran it up and down your whole slit, before pushing it inside of you. You arched your back, pushing forward to him as much as you could. He chuckled. “Sensitive, are you?” He uses another finger before putting his tongue directly on your clit. He knew what he was doing. You felt your body twitching with pleasure as you moaned for him.

“Fuck, fuck, John..” You whined. He chuckled against you before pulling away for a moment to speak.

“You taste like heaven, love.” He goes right back to doing his job, his tongue assaulting your clit. It doesn’t take long for you to reach your climax, your body convulsing and writhing beneath his touch. He chuckles as he watches you struggle to stay still. As you come down from your high you look down at him, and see him smiling. You laugh.

“Well, now you’re definitely going to have a big head. You’re.. incredible at that.” He smiles at you.

“I do my best.” You smile. Getting up and moving him away a little bit.

“Will you sit back now? For me?” You ask. He quickly nods, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed.

“Work your magic, love.” He tells you. You rest yourself comfortably between his legs, finally taking a hold of his cock. He twitches in your hand. You look up at him, directly in his eyes, as you take him into your mouth. He groans seeing this, tilting his head back in pleasure as you begin bobbing up and down on him. “Fuck, you look so good like that.” You keep going, wanting more and more praise from him. He rests his head comfortably on the headboard, letting you do what you do best. Once he got close, he began groaning more loudly. His cock started twitching, and he began cumming down your throat. You swallowed every bit of it, letting him finish fully before pulling away with a ‘pop’. You smiled at him and he smiled back.

“So soon?” You tease him and he sighs in pleasure.

“It’s been a long time.” He told you. “Now get up here.” You quickly comply, putting yourself in his lap. He wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you as close to him as he could. You kissed, the tastes of each of your juices mixing together. You both pull away, completely breathless.

“You’re just as amazing as I’ve imagined all this time.” You tell him. He smiles, running his hands up and down your sides.

“Oh, you’ve imagined this before?” He asks, again with that damn grin. You roll your eyes.

“Seriously? Of course I have. Every fucking night pretty much.” He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, pulling you close to him.

“Well, I’m right here. And it’s really happening.” You feel him getting hard again beneath you. You reach underneath you, taking it into your hand and holding it up. You were ready to take him inside, but you had a thought.

“So, sir. Is this really what you want?” You try to tease him, but your composure is quickly crumbled and broken by him. He looks at you seriously and sternly. He is still holding your face with one hand, while his other hand trails up and down your body. He clicks his tongue in disappointment at you.

“No no, you don’t get to do that love. You’re not the one in charge here.” He looks at you, with such a serious face, but talks to you so sweetly that it completely melts you. “You should apologize for talking to your captain like that.” You immediately become a dumb mess for him.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He rubs your lips with his thumb, smiling at you kindly.

“You don’t need to think, love. Leave that to me.” You nod your head for him. “Good girl.” He tells you. “Now, take what you want. And don’t make me wait. We have waited long enough, haven’t we?” You nod your head readily, taking his cock and positioning yourself above it. You begin sliding down on top of it, moaning loudly as you sit down on him. You both moan for each other. You feel full and complete now with him inside of you.

“Oh, oh my god..” You can’t even form words to describe how good he feels.

“Sweet mother of..” He grunts. “You’re tight.” You can’t control yourself. You start bouncing up and down on him. He helps you, lifting your body with his arms and helping you gain leverage as you bounce. Your body feels like it’s on fire as he kisses you and holds you so closely. “Love, you’re incredible.” He tells you, watching you as you bounce up and down on him desperately. He can’t control himself either, becoming more and more feral as he thrusted up into you. “God I want to finish inside of you.” He tells you through his heavy breathing.

“I’m good, I’m good.. don’t stop.” He understood what you meant, that you must have been on some type of birth control. Who cares? You could take a plan B. He didn’t care at all at this moment, completely losing himself in the pleasure of you. He became erratic and lost his composure completely as he got closer to the edge. He suddenly held you down on him hard as he came, grinding your hips on him as he came inside of you. He was pulsing and filling you with his seed. You felt so warm and full, sighing in pleasure and joy as you let your head fall to his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.

“God, that was perfect..” You tell him. He nods his head.

“I completely agree. I just.. I haven’t felt that good in so long. I lost myself in you.” You smile at him, feeling a bit sad for him.

“I want to take care of you. I want to make you feel good. Always.” You kiss him. You notice the red hue on his face as he looks at you with a light in his eyes. Then of course, he goes on again being cheeky..

“Maybe we should try it out one more time. Just so I can be sure it really feels so good.” You laugh at his comment, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss once more.

#cod #call of duty #fanfic #scenario #smut #captain price #captain price x reader #john price #john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader

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