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-harmonytbh · 2 months ago

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the wayward kind still love deep

summary: Smoke returns to the Delta after years of war and silence, he seeks the woman he never stopped loving, but the past, both sweet and bitter, won’t let them move on without a fight. (angst, longing)

pairing: smoke x black plus sized!reader, platonic!stack x reader

warnings: cursing, mentions of war, sexual tension and suggestive content.

author's note: wow, I was not expecting all the positive feedback lol thank you to everyone who took the time to read, and I hope y’all like this next part <3

Part One

Part Two

“Hey, baby cakes,” Stack shouted as he ran across the yard at her, causing the chickens meandering around her feet to scatter in different directions.

“Elias Moore, as I live and breathe!” She called back with laughter in her voice and a tear in her eye. When he reached her, he lifted her easily and spun them around a few times, pulling easy giggles from her lips.

“Missed you gal,” he admitted, placing her back onto the Earth, “Lemme look atcha!”

He took a dramatic step backward, still clutching her left hand turning her this way and that. Stack let out a low whistle, and she swatted playfully at his shoulder.

Yup, he’s still Elias.

She tipped her head quickly over his left shoulder to see if she could catch a glimpse of Smoke. They had left things…well. It was a bright new day in the delta, and she was determined to make the most of it. Elijah Moore be damned. Stack relayed tales from all over God’s big green world, enchanting her and also terrifying her. He told her stories of battles they’d fought, schemes they’d pulled, and to her great annoyance, all the many women he’d loved. Stack was a lot of man, and he definitely didn’t see kindness in sparing the women of the world a chance to have the Elias Moore experience. They chatted easily, swapping a pail of boiled peanuts back and forth as the afternoon stretched lazily into a sticky pink dusk.

“How’s yo Ma an’ Pa?” He asked when they’d finally run out of new things to say. She smiled lightly and peered over at him.

“Both good, went down to Natchez to see ‘bout my Aunt Nancy. She’s ole an’ ailin’ now, needs someone there tuh look after her evr’yday,” she said back, still turning her head looking for Smoke. She and Stack had been sitting on her porch for hours and aside from Cornbread and Therese, no one had stirred the gravel.

“Where is—”

“You outta know that better’n me baby doll. He left this mornin’ ‘fore sunrise an’ I ain’t seen em since,” Stack interrupted, tipping the mason jar of water she’d brought him to his lips.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she wondered where in the hell Smoke could’ve been all damn day. They’d returned from their foray into the woods as the last of the golden sunrise peeked over the pines and said a terse and polite good day. She’d watched him march across the yard taking those slow and measured steps he was known for. Never in a hurry, never unsure. Strong, statuesque—Smoke.

“Well, as much as I just looove yer company, I need tuh put somethin’ on my stomach sweet thang,” Elias said suddenly, rising from her porch steps and leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“Now Elias Moore, ya know I would never let ya leave my house wit an empty belly. Set back down, I got some fresh catfish already marinating,” She smirked back, knowing he saw them when he went inside to fetch the water basin she was using to soak her feet.

“I laid it on a little too thick, huh?”

“As always, but I know you fulla mo’ shit than a Christmas turkey so I love ya all the same, Stack,” she giggled, patting her feet dry.

“Gon’ home an’ wash up. See if you can find yer brother, and I expect both of ya here in bout an’ hour.”

Through the webbing of her creaky screen door, she watched as Stack strutted toward their house, back tall and strong. Sinewy muscles moved with grace and whispered of a powerfully built and agile man. Clicking her tongue, she shook her head. One was enough trouble, but God had to go and make two of em just to show off.

Back in her kitchen, she set to work getting all her fixings together for catfish po boys, something she’d learned to make from Titus. Speaking of Titus, he’d been eerily quiet today himself. Usually by now, he’d come by with a sweet word and something for her. A flower or a stone, sometimes fresh fruit. He was tender with her like that, a gentleman. But now there was Smoke. What they’d shared during the wee hours of the morning on the bank of her Papa’s creek wouldn’t leave her mind, though she willed it to.

earlier that morning

“If only I was that lucky, baby.”

Kissing her teeth, she reached down for a pole and began baiting her hook with ease. He’d taught her well all those years ago, had used his large warm hands to guide her movements while enveloping her body with a warmth that set her teenage sensibilities into a tailspin. As he watched her hook the worm and cast her line into the babbling creek, he remembered that day vividly. How she had peeked at him under her lashes as he mumbled instructions against the shell of her ear. This was in the before time. Before he had told her his true feelings, before he had made her a woman.

“So, ya back for good, Elijah?”

He loved the way she said his name. EE—LIE—JAH, like it was an incantation, like it was raw Mississippi honey dripping from her tongue. He didn’t really know how to answer her. He could say I’m back for as long as you’ll have me. He could say come with me away from all this and start over.

“Mmm, can’t call it,” he said instead, casting his line downstream like he always did to avoid catching more fish than her. He loved to see the twinkle in her eye when she took the lead over him, hoisting fish after fish into her pail and grinning at him proudly. Deep down she knew he was letting her win, but she didn’t mind. Just wanted to see that proud way he gazed back at his pupil.

“That sound like a Smoke answer if I’ve ever heard one,” she said back bitterly, tossing her line back out after tossing the wriggling catfish into her pail.

“Stack wan’ stay. Said he tired of the north, missin’ home. Figured we come back here an’ see how it fits,” he shrugged, trying to pretend that that was the full truth of why they came back home. She grunted and shook her head, sending a whiff of jasmine, clove, and sweat his way. His body hummed.

“Umm hmm. Stack,” She said back, not making eye contact with him.

They stayed this way for a while, basking in the comfortable discomfort that had developed around them. So many questions left unaddressed, so much history charging the air they breathed. Neither chose to broach any of the myriad of subjects they would need to eventually face head-on. They both resigned to continue this familiar ritual of theirs: fishing and longing, yearning and earning. She stole a glance at him as he focused on the dark water flowing in front of them, studying the strong line of his jaw and the stiff way he clutched the fishing pole.

“Loosen up,” she said quietly, lowering her line and ambling on shaky knees toward him.

She wanted him, needed him really. When she reached him, she placed a shaky hand on his shoulder. Turning to gaze at her, his eyes clouded over with all that he couldn’t say but was deeply feeling. Naïve she may have been all those years ago before he left, but now, as a grown woman, she could see all of that in his eyes was real. It was raw. It would burn her up from the inside out if she let it.

“Don’t tell me all those years in the city made ya lose ya touch, Lijah,” she chuckled, attempting to diffuse the tension, “Lemme show ya how it’s done, city boy.”

She pried the fishing pole from his large hands and pretended not to notice the way they trembled. Stepping in front of him, she leaned back against the hard line of his chiseled body and sighed as he wrapped his arms around her waist instinctively. His heart beat rapidly at her back, and she could feel every one of her nerve endings standing on end. But then again, she also felt a peace and comfort wash over her unlike anything she’d felt for the past seven years. Her body moved around restlessly on its own volition, causing her to come in contact with the rising tent in his pants more than a few times.

“You gon’ kill me if ya keep fidgeting gal, I’m tryna be polite here,” he spoke into the crook of her neck before taking a deep inhale of her scent.

“What if I don’t wan’ you to be, hmm?”

present

“Hey, gal. I’m comin’ in, and I bought the ole man wit me,” she heard Stack call from the front porch, interrupting her reverie.

“In the kitchen,” she called back sweetly, using the back of her hand to wipe cornmeal from her cheek and adjusting the dusty apron at her waist. Dammit to hell, she thought she’d have more time to get presentable before they came back. As promised, the men filled her tiny kitchen with their overwhelming presence before she could take two shaky breaths.

“Ya got it smellin’ good in here, gal. I can’t wait to eat. I’m so hungry my stomach thinks my throat’s cut,” Stack exclaimed reaching at the food on the table.

She popped his hand and pointed him toward the basin to clean his hands. He chuckled sheepishly and went around the corner to do a rushed job of it, no doubt. Smoke leaned sullenly against the door jamb watching as she moved easily around the kitchen preparing everyone’s plate and pretending she didn’t feel the heat of his gaze on her.

“Ya look beautiful like this,” he finally said, kicking himself away from his spot and easing up behind her, “We can make this here an evr’yday thing if you’d seriously consider what I asked you this mornin’, baby.”

“Smoke gone somewhere wit that, I haven’t changed my mind,” she grumbled, turning around to face him but not moving away from his embrace. His hands traced lazy circles at the base of her spine and damn her if she didn’t lean into em. The low smolder in her belly ignited into a wildfire of desire for this vexing man in front of her, and her eyes latched on to the perfect sight of his pouting bottom lip.

“You ain’t give it enough thought!”

“I don’t have to, the answer is still no,” she replied quickly, finally moving herself from his hold as Stack rounded the corner. He looking quizzically between the two of them easily noticing the shift in both their energies and deciding then and there that it was none of his goddamn business, especially if it would get between him and the steaming plate of food at his favorite seat at her table.

“Alright mama, my mitts are clean, can I eat now?” Stack asked, pecking her on the cheek and flashing his damp hands at her.

“Yes Elias, help ya self,” she giggled.

They all sat down to eat, and they were transported back to the easy way they all used to be with each other before the sweet embrace of childhood fled, leaving them disoriented and disjointed with one another and themselves. Stories passed easily between them as they recounted the good old days spent cutting their teeth in the dusty roads of the delta. It was comfortable. She’d forgotten how life with the twins around felt. How just being in their presence filled you with warmth and giddiness. For the first time in a long time, the loneliness was at bay, and she wished she could capture this moment forever. Later, she watched amused as they tidied the kitchen and peacocked for her attention, Stack more so just to get a rise out of Smoke.

“Sweet thang, ion know why ya waste ya time with this ole coot anyway. Evr’ybody know the second model is better than the first,” Stack called out puffing out his chest and flexing his muscles proudly.

“Yeah, keep on talkin’ and I’ma knock ya so hard, you’ll see tomorrow today,” Smoke replied sending a dirty look in Stack’s direction. She laughed raucously, and the sound echoed from the walls and pierced Smoke’s heart.

“Well well well, this must be the SmokeStack twins I’ve been hearing so much about,” a male voice called from the doorway. Smoke and Stack both reached to unholster their weapons, on high alert. Her eyes bucked as she turned toward the sound.

“Titus!”

“An’ who in the hell is Titus?” Stack asked, watching her rise and walk toward the tall gentleman engulfing her kitchen entrance. She placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and hugged him sweetly. Smoke shot daggers at them both, turning to Stack with pain, envy, and shock in his eyes.

“Well, her fiancé of course.”

#michael b jordan x reader #elias stack moore x reader #smoke x reader #smokestack twins #smoke and stack #sinners x reader #sinners fic #sinners oc #sinners x black reader #smoke x black reader #smoke x black oc #sinners imagine #elijah moore x reader #elijah smoke moore #elijah smoke moore x reader #Elijah moore x black reader

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eureka-its-zico · 2 years ago

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Chaos in Their Bones

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention.

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frienemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 5k+

A/N: I told myself I wasn’t going to do this, so naturally I did it anyway. This is the first chapter in a planned series with a reader insert following the events of the OPLA universe. I sincerely hope that this is a story you all love as this is my first initial time writing for one of my beloved anime. But let’s be real, after seeing Mackenyu play Zoro (my fav) I knew I was going to be whipped from the start. The reader will go by “Doc” in this story at times, and later a nickname by Zoro himself. As always, I hope you enjoy this. Much love, Jenn. Also, thank you @thegreatesttttttttt for indulging me.

The ringing of the bell thundered through the sky above. An upcoming warning of four words that would echo through the street's moments later.

“The pirates are coming!”

You could practically hear the rest of the town groan with a sigh. Their annoyance stunk up the streets as Usopp sounded the imaginary alarm as he usually did every day around this time. Maybe it was because you considered Usopp a friend that his tall tales and wild imagination didn’t bother you.

Instead, a sly smile tilted your lips as you continued to grind the seeds deep into the mortar. Mr. Edison’s gruff voice from outside your window reminded Usopp for the millionth time that he needed to stop as he sprinted past.

“What is that boy going on about?” Naan huffed.

You sent a quick glance behind your shoulder at the older woman who was currently folding the recently washed linens. All of them are used with a purpose to either staunch bloody wounds or for the simple purpose of relieving colds. Naan’s linens, like her home, were used for a multitude of healing services, with the only payment she accepted was that of the kindness of others around her.

“You already know, Naan,” you replied, your smile evident in your words. “It’s the usual afternoon reminder to stay on your toes.”

A deep chuckle came from behind you followed by the soft cough that came after.

“These toes can’t do very much standing. So, maybe tell your friend to give me a day of rest soon.”

“Usopp has done this every day for seven years. I don’t think anything anyone will ever say will make him stop.”

Even if you could get Usopp to stop, you wouldn’t be the one to make him. You weren’t sure how many people in town knew who his father was - or that he’d been a pirate. A father by suggestion, Usopp’s wild imagination could only recall small things from the stories his mother had been willing to share, and from those stories, even greater ones grew.

While everyone else may have found Usopp’s stories as an ever-present headache you knew they held a deeper meaning. They were the only thing he knew of a man he never got to know.

The sound of chair legs creaking across the floor cut you out of your thoughts. Just in time from the looks of the seed putty you’d created. A heavy thud on the boards informed you Naan grabbed her cane and the heavier shuffling of her feet that she was heading in your direction.

“What are you so intently making over here, child?”

Settling down the pestle, you reached over your workstation to grab a pot. You were going to need to fetch some water to bring everything to a bowl before you strained it into a jar.

“Water. I need to go get some water,” you murmured as you brought the pot down in front of you.

“Am I talking to myself?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Naan. Did you say something?”

This time you did dare to look at her. Her deep-set wrinkles set impossibly deeper as she regarded your work from over your shoulder.

“Oh, I only asked what you were making that was stinking up my kitchen.”

Your eyes flew open wide as you took a deep breath in. You were sure the only thing you’d put in that maybe - maybe - smelled was the slippery elm, but you hadn’t even steeped it in the water yet. Naan must have read your panic before it began to stitch your brow together. Your eyes still helplessly peeled to the job in front of you instead of the chuckling woman behind you.

“It’s fine, child. I’m just teasing you.”

All your panic rushed out in a huff of air as your body finally turned to greet her. Your eyes instantly took in the very tired look of hers.

“You should get some rest, Naan.”

The two of you knew you meant well. You would never try and make Naan feel older than she already felt, except you didn’t give a damn about her feelings when you could easily spot the sweat on her upper lip. The way her body leaned more into the cane that supported her. She batted your concern away with a swat of her free hand. As if it would be enough to make whatever fear that gripped at your heart magically disappear.

“Don’t patronize me. I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. You're wheezing with every breath now-“

“I said I’m fine. Leave me alone and start worrying about whatever it is you’re making.”

“Well, if you would stop interrupting me, maybe I could finish it!”

The irritation in your voice wasn’t hard to miss. Naan heard it too no doubt with the way her brow cocked as if begging you to repeat it.

The silence stretched uncomfortably between you. Naan wouldn’t even look at you - probably too scared to see your eyes pleading, full of worry for her to just go lay down.

Why must you always be so stubborn?

The question sat on your tongue and made your words form like molasses. You weren’t a child anymore. So, it begged the question of why you were still afraid to speak to her like an adult. It didn’t matter if what you said hurt her old feelings. Not when the thought of her not being around made your chest begin to spread wide like an aching chasm.

“You never did say what you were making.”

You pressed your tongue against your cheek while you debated if it would be worth it to try and argue with her. Of course, you were always the first one to relent and push it under the metaphorical rug.

“It’s a gift for Miss Kaya. Usopp told me her cough hadn’t changed and asked if I would make something for her.”

“Hmm,” Naan hummed in thought. “That boy is strange, but he is kind.”

“Not as strange as Kaya having an unknown illness the last few years and never seeking any aid from the town's doctor,” you grumbled.

Naan’s hand lightly clasped your shoulder in comfort - comfort you didn’t want to accept. Not only were thoughts of Naan being sick plaguing every ounce of free space in your brain but now so was Kaya. You’d only met her once when you were younger with Usopp and after her parents died that odd butler, Klahadore, kept her under strict observation.

In all the years you’d been with Naan, learning everything she could teach about healing, you’d found it odd that the staff never came to ask for help. You couldn’t recall a time when Sham or Buchi ever came down requesting any tonics or medicines from Naan, or for her to come with them to examine Kaya in the first place.

I wasn’t aware they were waitstaff and doctors.

You knew these thoughts would only dampen your mood until it turned completely sour. You just couldn’t stop the runaway train that was your thoughts from slipping back into questioning everything with the universe never giving you any new answers.

“How many times have I told you, child, we can’t make people get help. They have to seek it themselves and that- that is when the real healing begins.”

You were already bitter and that bitterness responded to Naan’s words in the form of an eye roll. One you were lucky the older woman didn’t see.

“It’s just not right.”

“Right or not, it’s not our place to go butting in.”

She stood behind you for a few more minutes waiting for a reply you didn’t give. You were done talking. Done trying to get her to understand that she was sick too and that all those years of molding words and actions to help others were what drove you to help her. To help Kaya. Only Usopp seemed to notice that something in her grand home wasn’t right.

Frustration drew tight across your chest causing your hands to seek support against the counter. For a split second, you imagined yourself splitting open and becoming two separate people. One being the doctor Naan trained you to be and the other something less controlled. Someone who was tired of listening but never being heard.

You listened as Naan began to retreat back to her table where the rest of the linens waited to be folded. You listened as another terrible cough violently shook itself free from her lungs as you focused on your work.

If you couldn’t help Naan you were just going to settle for helping Miss Kaya. Once you finished making Usopp’s requested medicine you were going to be sure he delivered it to her.

It was time a doctor paid a visit.

————

The shipyard.

Of course, Usopp was going to be here. Why you hadn't thought to come here first felt like a mystery all on its own.

In all the years you’d known him, Usopp’s routine hardly ever changed. He usually performed his usual pirate ritual just before he started his day in the shipyard. He was hired to care for and clean all of the ships housed within, however, and upon no real surprise to you, Usopp cleaned and polished the Going Merry daily.

So, it didn’t surprise you to find him already on the ship. What did surprise you were the three people standing with him steps away from the Going Merry, herself.

You didn’t feel alarmed in any way. Usopp was good with people - he enjoyed talking to anyone willing to listen. The man with the straw hat, who was grinning wildly in the direction of Usopp and then to his friends, seemed happy to listen. He was giving Usopp his full attention and whatever your friend was saying was exactly what Straw Hat wanted to hear.

The other two people beside him, however, didn’t seem to share in the excitement. Sure, the pretty woman with the orange hair was giving all the perfect signaling queues of a smile and nod to make it believable that she was interested in anything Usopp had to say. Did she probably care about whatever was being said? Probably not, but at least she didn’t look as sour as the moss-hair-colored guy-

Holy shit

Your feet stopped working. Your knees seemed to refuse to bend, to make any movement forward for the last few feet to close the distance to the group. For what reason? There had to be a perfectly good reason-

Nope. Thoughts gone. Head empty.

That was the best way to describe what was currently happening as your eyes stayed glued to the three-sword-wielding swordsman standing next to the woman.

Three swords? You wondered. Where does the other one go?

Maybe you would ask him if you ever summed up the courage to do just that. If you could just get your legs to function again.

In all the time you’d lived on Shell Island you were more than positive you’d never seen someone that looked close to him. Especially someone carrying around three swords or standing with so much purpose. Even as your eyes took him in you could tell he was pretending to be relaxed, but after years of mending bodies, you noticed the tightness between his shoulder blades. The ease he tried to display with a hand resting on the hilt of the sword wasn’t actually resting. Even relaxed, this man was ready to unsheathe those blades and use them at a moment's notice.

While the idea made you consider him a great swordsman, your heart also ached at the thought of feeling trapped and weary of others' intentions.

Your thoughts would’ve continued to run wild as you embarrassingly gawked at this stranger and his friends. All of that was ruined, however, when Usopp caught a glimpse of you between orange and green hair.

“Doc!”

Usopp’s excitement translated to a crazy arm wave and immediately caused all three of his newfound friends to face you. God, this meant you had to get your legs working. You had to physically move closer. You could do that. No problem.

Taking in a deep breath, you allowed a genuine smile to raise your lips in welcome. Luckily, your feet didn’t betray you as you moved the last few feet. You made a mental note as you got closer that the straw hat was meeting your smile with his own, while the other two regarded you with lackluster enthusiasm.

Great. They were the grumpy types of people.

“There you are Usopp,” you began cheerfully. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“You know, Usopp?” Asked straw hat.

You felt your brow crease in question as your smile wilted at the corners.

“I would hope so. We’ve known each other since we’ve lived here.”

“Impressive,” mumbled the woman.

Okay, maybe she wasn’t as friendly as you originally thought, but she was still definitely friendlier than moss hair. Who currently felt like he was drilling holes into your chest.

“Ugh, Doc I was just going to take these guys to visit, Kaya,” Usopp interjected.

He was still smiling - always smiling. His eyes darted to the three new faces before landing back at you.

“Why would you take them to see, Kaya?”

“She owns the shipyard and we-“Straw hat interjected, “Are in need of a ship. That beautiful ship behind us, to be exact.”

You glanced behind him to the Going Merry. Kaya’s family ship.

You shot Usopp a questioning glance that you weren’t surprised to see him ignore. He was up to something there was no doubting that. The issue was you weren’t sure what angle he was trying to play.

“Good luck with that.”

You did mean it. You didn’t think he was going to get it no matter how good-natured he seemed. That was still a family memory you weren’t sure Kaya would be willing to part with.

“Thanks!”

“Doc, before I take them over there do you by chance have what I asked for?”

You patted your satchel for good measure before you replied, “That’s why I was looking for you. I have it right here.”

Usopp took a step towards you, his hand outstretched in waiting for you to deposit the bottle. When you didn’t comply with his request he shot you a look of worry.

“You do have it right?”

“Yes, Usopp I told you I did. I just want to come with you to check on her myself.”

A look of worry dimmed the mirth in his eyes for one second. If you didn’t know what to look for you would have missed it entirely. You knew he’d been asking you for months to sneak in with him to visit Kaya. His own suspicions began to outweigh the doubt that plagued his heart with every heavy decision that needed to be made.

Deep down, Usopp knew if you were finally going to answer his request of sneaking in with him, it must be serious. A concept Usopp himself purposely tried to run from often.

“Wait, you’re a doctor? That is so cool!”

You needed to learn Straw Hat’s name because he was growing on you fast.

“I’m no-“

“She’s actually one of the best doctors in the whole East Blue,” Usopp beamed. “She’s cured this small village of at least two possible plague outbreaks twice already.”

You were willing to bet your eyes were the size of saucers. There was no way any of them would believe that kind of nonsense. There was absolutely no way-

“Wow, now that is really impressive! Sounds just like somebody who should be a part of my crew-“

“No!”

“We are not a crew!”

The absolute verbal whiplash you just experienced left your head reeling to pick up on every conversation. Straw Hat was practically turning into pure sunshine in front of you, while the other two were glaring like you’d sprouted three heads.

Geez, what a tough crowd.

“Ok, wait what?”

“It’s nothing he doesn’t mean anything by it,” the woman replied, a tight smile thinning out her lips.

“We don’t need someone pretending to play medicine woman to join us.”

Your eyes narrowed in on the now green-haired monster. He met your cold glance with his own. Whoever - whatever - he experienced in his life meant he didn’t find you the least bit threatening. He regarded you like an annoyance and you found yourself wondering why the universe made all the grumpy ones the most attractive.

If his lips pouted any harder he was going to have to rent a kissing booth.

“For your information, I’m not a pretend doctor.”

Whatever he was going to reply with was cut off by Straw hat who quickly pointed at himself. “I’m Luffy, and these are my companions Nami and Zoro.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Luffy,” you beamed letting them know your name in response. “But most people just refer to me as Doc because of Usopp.”

Nami clapped her hands together to bring you both back to the matter at hand. Kaya’s medicine. Their boat.

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, can we get going? We really should stop by and pay her a visit.”

“Oh yeah! Come on guys, I can show you the fastest way there.”

Usopp tossed down his rag and skipped backward to the crate where his own satchel sat.

“Great! If you guys will kindly follow me this way I can show you something really awesome.”

You wanted to smack some sense into him. Usopp always wanted to be liked - for people to spend time with him and enjoy it. Besides Kaya and you who humored him with his opulent imagination and ability to spin fables like cotton candy. These people, Luffy excluded, did not deserve his endearing desire for friendship. They were both giving off major chip on their shoulder vibes and you vowed to become an even bigger pain in the ass if they were unnecessarily rude to him.

They didn’t wait to know if you were joining them or even behind them. They all moved forward to follow Usopp, who was spit-firing a conversation at Luffy who easily seemed to match it with his own charisma. Nami and Zoro trudged behind them both and you brought up the rear.

You’d hoped at some point Luffy or Usopp would drag you into the conversation. Anything that would keep your wandering eyes from constantly burrowing holes between Zoro’s sculpted shoulders. If you didn’t locate some form of self-control soon, you were positive your brain would be sent spinning into a tangent about how martial arts training with weapons was a godsend. So, looking at your feet for the next few miles would have to suffice.

It was strange how the world between poverty and the rich was such an overwhelming force. The farther you ventured out past the town and into the privacy of the landscape that kept Kaya’s family home hidden, it was a wonder that anyone would know it was there.

There were endless strawberry fields that farmers planted on one side and potatoes on the other. Dozens of workers tended to their growth with their hard work and sweat until a wall of bamboo cut off any view. All you could see was an endless path swallowed in bamboo branches making the path more foreboding than you thought necessary.

When you finally came in through the front gates, their iron and mortar was a welcomed sight. The one thing that wasn’t was that stupid Well you’d grown to hate ever since you almost fell in looking over the side as a child.

“I’ve never seen a house this big before.”

Luffy’s admission sent your eyes up from your feet to the large garden entrance. And that damned well that sat like a mockery in the middle of the walkway to the front.

“It’s impressive, right? Kaya’s given me an open invitation to stop by anytime I want.”

Your eyes darted over to Usopp who was practically skipping with excitement as he and Luffy made their way over to the well. You wanted him to look at you, but you knew he wouldn’t. If he did, Usopp would only find you looking at him - full of questions - with a look calling him a liar. You would never want him to feel bad. It was never your intention, however, it was going to be more embarrassing if you all got caught and thrown out on your ass than just being honest.

“Wow. That’s pretty awesome,” Luffy breathed. His face was full of wonder as he continued to take in the large space. “All of this is just for one person?”

“Well…she lives here with a few other staff.”

“Yeah. A bunch of asshole staff,” you grumbled under your breath.

By the way, Luffy and Usopp were hanging over the side of the well - ick - neither of them had heard you. Unfortunately, your fellow rear buddies did.

“You don’t seem to be a fan of the staff?” Nami ventured.

You eyed her carefully. She came off friendly enough, but she wasn’t giving anything else away. The small smile on her lips wasn’t reaching her eyes. Instead, they were calculating and waiting for you to give her any information you were willing or unwilling to give.

Nami was incredibly smart and equally dangerous because of it.

“They do a lot of suspicious things,” you replied slowly, unsure of how much sharing was too much.

“I’m sure butlers don’t come harboring life-threatening secrets,” Zoro countered.

His hand shoved in a pocket while the other still rested on the sword. He regarded you the way adults do children making up fairytales. The way the townspeople looked at Usopp like a silly child always crying wolf. They both thought you were being silly, and you wish you could say their disregard didn’t make your chest cave in just a bit, but you never were a good liar.

“No, maybe butlers don’t,” you countered, “but people do.”

When neither of them showed signs of continuing on with the conversation you started forward following Usopp and Luffy. You didn’t care about whatever conversation Zoro or Nami were having behind you. They could’ve been discussing robbing the place blind for all you could care about.

You were worried more about the people than the objects inside.

“If you have an invitation, why are we going through the back way?”

Just tell them, Usopp.

“Oh, well I never go through the front entrance. This is more of a VIP entrance.”

“This guy is full of shit.”

“Yeah, but if he gets us inside who cares.”

Why was Luffy the only member of this merry band of misfits who weren’t incredibly grumpy?

“Usopp,” you called out to him in a warning.

He gave you a glance over his shoulder before he made his way over the giant lily pads without a reply.

Little shit, you thought as you realized he was very much choosing to ignore your existence. Did you blame him? Not really. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had humored him this long and you were debating on if you should be the one to crush his newfound hopes and dreams.

Fortunately for you, you weren’t going to have to be the bad guy in that scenario. One already seemed to exist.

Just as Usopp reached the second lily pad, you knew something was wrong. The hiccup of an, “Oh,” that came out of him registering as panic. He was already turning back to stop Luffy from coming closer, almost begging him to go to another entrance - an extra special one - when he was interrupted by a knife plunging into the lily pad between his feet.

A very sharp knife. One you knew could’ve easily severed flesh or nicked an artery. Your blood boiled as you pushed past Luffy, your eyes darting wildly as Buchi stalked towards Usopp who stuttered past a greeting.

“What the hell are you doing here, Usopp?” He snapped as his hands lurched in to grasp the leather of Usopp’s top. “You know you aren’t welcome here.”

“I know nothing of the sort. I came to give Kaya an extra-special gift.”

You practically glided past the last lily pad when a sharp hiss cut the air. You didn’t necessarily need to look to see if it was Sham. You knew it was. She stood just off the first step from where they’d been disemboweling the hog, mop at the ready, and her teeth bared directly at you.

“He’s brought the doctor,” she hissed.

Buchi finally seemed to register your presence from behind Usopp and bared his own teeth in warning.

“You are definitely not welcome here.”

“A rather odd thing to say to a healer when your mistress seems to be suffering a mysterious illness.”

“An illness we are more than capable of handling.”

“I find that highly doubtful.”

With his hands still holding onto Usopp, Buchi leaned forward to growl - literally growl - in your face like a rabid dog. You wanted to poke him in the eye and were incredibly tempted to do so when a soft voice cut through the tension.

“Usopp! What a wonderful surprise!”

Everyone’s attention shifted as Kaya made her entrance on the arm of Klahadore. You took a step back and away from the two just so Usopp could twist himself free and walk towards the waiting mistress of the estate.

“I wouldn’t miss today of all days. Happy birthday, Kaya.”

“You remembered.”

My god, she was practically swooning and Usopp was eating it up.

“I could never forget.”

This feels awkward.

They acted like they didn’t have a captive audience watching them look at each other like two lovestruck teenagers.

It wasn’t hard to notice how Kaya beamed at him or how that attention brought happiness to Usopp. For as long as you can remember, even as children, Usopp always liked her. Sure, he would play it off as if they were just friends. There was no way she could see him that way, but when Kaya’s parents passed away three years ago what was between them seemed to change. Their feelings became something saturated in an understanding of loss. Usopp knew what Kaya needed because it was something he himself had never truly received.

So, did it bother you that she actually hadn’t greeted you yet? Not really. What did bother you, however, was the way Klahadore’s eyes slithered over to you. It made you feel like you were going to be sick.

“Usopp. Did you bring the doctor with you?”

Please, let me crawl into a hole and die.

There was something off about Klahadore. It wasn’t just because he made your skin want to completely crawl off your body. It was the way he sounded every alarm bell in your brain. The way your heart speeds up triggering the fight or flight response that was ingrained in your body's defense system. The way he continued to look at you as if you were a bug that needed to be squashed, only drove the feeling home.

“Oh, yeah. Kaya, I had Doc make you something for your cough. I figured it might be worth a try.”

God, he looked so happy. He was completely oblivious to how Klahadore seemed ready to smite you both where you stood.

You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. Maybe when you opened them he wouldn’t be staring daggers into your face.

Nope. No such luck.

“Oh, that is so incredibly sweet,” Kaya beamed.

Klahadore slowly set his hand out in front of him. The cold obsidian of his eyes never left your face as he spoke. “Please hand over whatever tonic you’ve acquired for Miss Kaya.”

You weren’t aware your hand was already in the satchel. Your fingers wrapped protectively tight against the cool glass of the bottle as you continued to stare at one another.

“Hand it over. Please.”

“No-“

Usopp’s hand on your shoulder stopped you cold. Your teeth ground tightly to stop your next words. You didn’t want to hand that asshole anything. Not when Kaya looked so damn pale.

Something is wrong.

The thought wormed its way into your brain until it gnawed at all other thoughts until it consumed every available spot. It was all you could think as your eyes continued to look over her frail frame.

Naan taught you that as a doctor, and as a healer, it was your job to fight for your patients. To always do what you could and what was best for their care. Was giving the medicine you made for Kaya to Klahadore best for her care.

No. No, it sure as shit didn’t feel like it.

Maybe that was why it felt like such a betrayal to take the medicine from your bag and drop it inside his gloved hand. You watched as his disgusting white fingers wrapped around the gray bottle and brought it up to rest closely to his chest.

“Now, Usopp we’ve had this discussion about coming here unannounced - and this time with a doctor.”

“Nonsense, Klahadore,” Kaya interjected. “They are my friends. What a sweet gesture it was, Doc to try and make me something. Usopp, did you come to tell me more stories about your adventures?”

“I can do you one better. I brought some of my crew.”

With a sweep of his arm, Usopp introduced Luffy, Nami, and Zoro who registered this gesture with sheer disbelief. Well, disbelief would be putting it mildly.

“Is he talking about us?”

Luffy sounded as confused as you felt.

“I’m sorry, but we do not have any room for any extra guests tonight, I’m afraid.”

“Oh please, Klahadore couldn’t they at least stay for dinner? It is my birthday.”

You hated how Kaya had to beg to have company that wasn’t her staff. You could vaguely remember the butler who was in charge before Klahadore had arrived. Mr. Thorburr had been an absolute delight and genuinely seemed to care about Kaya and her family’s wellbeing. If he was still in charge, you were positive he would’ve believed in letting Kaya outside to enjoy the garden or have friends stop by, even unannounced, to visit.

One day he was just gone and slowly the only staff that was left were these three assholes. It all felt awfully convenient or maybe you were just being petty because you disliked them.

The way Klahadore looked at her made your stomach turn.

“Anything for you, Miss Kaya.”

You wondered if he choked a little over each word as they traveled up his throat.

“Great!” Luffy shouted. “When do we eat?”

“You don’t. Not dressed like that. You will change and bathe before dinner. No exceptions.”

Everyone was willing to accept the invitation. The premise of a bath seemed enough to make Nami practically skip forward to be led inside by Sham. Your feet, however, refused to move. Usopp, Luffy, and Nami practically took the small stairs up to the patio in one giant leap. Your earlier dread from the day was back and something dark borrowed its way into your chest.

Something is wrong.

You were about to turn tail and run when you noticed Zoro stop at the edge of the stairs. His body turned slightly to eye Klahadore one last time before he turned to follow after his crew. It was small and barely lasted a second, but it was enough.

Zoro noticed something wasn’t right either and maybe, just maybe, he’d be the one to believe you. All you had to do was join him inside the house to talk to him. No biggie.

Taking in a deep breath you finally moved to follow behind Kaya and Klahadore. Your eyes intently following a particular green-haired swordsman and wondering how you were going to get him alone.

The showers seemed like a great place to start.

_______________________

As always, thank you for reading. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

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writesvani · 3 months ago

Text

coming down | 05

collegestudent! gojo x collegestudent! reader

SUMMARY: You and Gojo Satoru were once everything to each other, but now, the space between you is filled with nothing but silence and resentment. College is just a reminder of how far you’ve drifted apart, and every encounter only adds fuel to the fire.

You avoid him like the plague, but it doesn’t matter. You can still feel him in the shadows, always there, always watching, as if the past was never really gone. So what do you do? You (try to) keep your distance, pretending it’s easy to forget the history that’s weighed you down for so long.

But deep down, neither of you can let go. And as the tension between you grows, you’re forced to confront the truth: some things are never truly buried, no matter how hard you try.

best friends-to-friends with benefits-to-enemies-to- enemies with benefits-to?

TWs (for this chapter): alcohol use, vomiting, intoxication, emotional manipulation, jealousy, unspoken tension, toxic relationships, self-doubt, unrequited love, discomfort, arguments, heated exchanges, unresolved sexual tension, drug use, self-destructive behavior, unhealthy coping mechanisms, physical discomfort, past trauma references, explicit language

comment HERE for Coming Down taglist;

SERIES M. LIST;

— previous chapter // next chapter

wc: 7,2k // date: 20th of March 2025

CHAPTER FIVE - House of Balloons; proceed with caution...

AN (IMPORTANT, PLEASE DON'T SKIP):

hey gummies, it’s vani.

before you dive into ch 5, we need to have a little heart-to-heart: so, my taglist is growing like weed, but y’all are as silent as a library at midnight. how do i know you’re reading if no one’s making noise? comment, like, reblog, send me a carrier pigeon, give me your opinions on my writing, my characters, your life, your dog—just talk to me. seriously—just DO SOMETHING.

here’s the deal: next chapter drops ONLY AFTER we hit 150 kudos. yes, 150. i know some of you will cry about it, but honestly, 150 is my average kudo count. so no excuses. this is a public reaction test, okay? i laughed 70 times writing this chapter and i expect the same energy from you.

let’s see how many people are actually reading. hit 150 and chapter 6 will be here faster than a pizza delivery at 3 am. go wild.

love, vani

It feels natural talking to Geto, like slipping into a familiar rhythm you didn’t realize you missed. There’s an effortless flow between you, a quiet understanding laced into every exchanged glance, every syllable that leaves his lips like a slow-burning shot you can’t help but take. His eyes are heavy-lidded, tinged with a lazy rosiness, half-lost in the moment.

He’s perched on the edge of Aiko’s bed, shoulders hunched forward, his presence somehow both relaxed and consuming. He insisted on escaping the overcrowded living room—too loud, too messy. Instead, he wanted to go somewhere quieter, more private. Somewhere just for the two of you.

His gaze traces over you, unhurried, mapping out the contours of your form like he’s reading between the lines of a story he’s desperate to understand. There’s something in his eyes—a glimmer of curiosity, of wanting to know you. Not just the surface version of you, but the real thing. It’s a look you haven’t seen in a long time. Not since Ren. Maybe Yumi. Or even… Gojo.

Your throat runs dry as the thought of Gojo flickers through your mind—he’s still off fetching drinks, you presume. A rational part of you knows there are some lines that should never be crossed, some weapons too cruel to wield. Especially if that weapon is Ren.

But seeing it—the pain, the betrayal simmering just beneath Gojo’s nonchalant exterior, barely concealed behind the gleam of his blue irises—it was satisfying. A twisted kind of victory. It made your blood run cold and set it ablaze all at once.

Yeah. It was worth it.

You know you aren’t fully immersed in your conversation with the black-haired, god-sculpted man sitting beside you, but the thoughts clouding your mind are relentless. You think about how you left the living room without a word to Ren, how, once he's done devouring that guy in the corner, he’ll be looking for you.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips—they feel too dry. Everything feels too dry. The air, your throat, the pit forming in your stomach. With rushed movements, you rummage through your little lavender-painted purse, fingers desperately searching for a lip balm, a lip gloss—anything. Your hands move with a frantic urgency, as if coating your lips in something will somehow soothe the dull ache stretching through your chest like a tightening net.

And even though you don't want to—God, you don’t—you think about the fact that Gojo will be back soon. With drinks. Probably just for himself and Geto, because the absolute menace he is, he’ll take one look at you and decide you don’t deserve the satisfaction of numbing yourself with alcohol.

Geto notices. Of course, he does. His gaze lingers on you, his brows furrowing slightly as he takes in the shift, the sudden stiffness in your frame. He rolls his shoulders, making a point to look away, like he’s trying not to dwell on whatever the hell just flickered through you. But he feels it. Just like you do.

So even though the unspoken familiarity of talking to him is begging you to slip into the conversation, your tongue feels heavy, locked in place by the weight pressing against your chest. There’s a strange uncertainty hanging in the air, curling around your posture, making your shoulders hunch ever so slightly.

Geto pulls out his phone, the movement swift, almost too sharp. His fingers tap against the screen in a rhythmic melody, the soft sound filling the silence between you.

“You wanna watch some reels?” he asks, throwing you a glance, one brow quirked in quiet amusement. His lips press into a thin line—like he doesn’t know what else to say, like this is the only lifeline he can offer.

It’s strange, how the easy flow of conversation from earlier has withered into something fragile. How the air between you feels thick, charged with something you can’t name.

Without thinking, you shift closer, the warmth of his body pulling you in like gravity. Your shoulder presses firmly against his, and you swear you can feel the slow, steady rhythm of his pulse thrumming beneath his skin. Heat licks up your thighs where they press together, and when you rest your head lightly against his shoulder, he doesn’t move away.

For the next few minutes, silence settles over you—not the suffocating kind from before, but something softer. Something that feels almost safe. The only sounds are the occasional bursts of laughter shared between you when a particularly ridiculous video pops up on his screen.

And maybe you aren’t talking, maybe there are still things lingering in the spaces between you, but at least this silence doesn’t feel quite so lonely. It’s warm, like a cup of tea on a dreary afternoon. Like an anchor in the middle of a storm.

“I’m so back, besties.”

The voice slices through the room like a blade, sharp enough to make your body stiffen before you even register the interruption. Instinct takes over—your head snaps toward the intruder, a reflex you wish you could unlearn. But of course, it’s him. It’s always him.

Gojo Satoru stands in the doorway, one shoulder pressed lazily against the frame, like he’s been there for a while. Watching. Waiting. His gaze flickers between you and Geto, his expression a masterclass in indifference. Empty. Detached. But his lips—those damn lips—are curved into that signature smirk, the one that makes people go stupid. Three white plastic cups dangle from his left hand, the liquid inside them sloshing with every shift of his weight.

Your eyes roll so hard it’s a wonder they don’t get stuck in the back of your head.

“Gee, we were just getting worried,” you deadpan, dripping in sugar-coated sarcasm, because if he’s going to be unbearable, then so are you.

Gojo scoffs, the sound lazy, dismissive. His footsteps are slow, measured. Predatory. He takes his time approaching, each step dragging out the inevitable.

“Well, I told you not to miss me too much,” he murmurs, plopping onto the mattress beside Geto like he owns the place. Like this moment belongs to him.

You groan, shifting away slightly. “Didn’t you notice that we literally ran away from you? Why the hell did you follow us?”

His eyes latch onto yours, piercing, hungry in a way you can’t decipher. It’s infuriating, the way he just exists—so effortlessly, so maddeningly.

Gojo tilts his head, grin widening like he’s savoring your irritation. “Well, sweetheart, I was just being courteous, bringing the drinks my oh-so-great friend here,” he gestures lazily at Geto, “asked me to bring.”

Your teeth grind together as you bite down the urge to lunge across the bed and slap that smirk clean off his face.

Ugh. Why doesn’t he just go fuck off somewhere else?

“Fine,” you scoff, already feeling your patience thinning like an overstretched rubber band. If this is how the rest of your night is going to be—at least until Ren finishes his business—then you might as well spend it getting drunk. Maybe the numbing warmth of alcohol will smooth over the weirdness of the night. Because, hell, you made out with Geto, and you can’t even begin to process it. Not when Gojo’s eyes are burning holes into your skull. Not when he somehow feels closer than the man actually sitting beside you.

You stretch your arm out, palm flat and expectant, right in front of Gojo.

“Gimme the drink,” you say, lips pressing into a thin line.

The boy next to you practically vibrates with amusement. His grin widens, sharp as a blade, his fingers curling around the plastic cups like they’re a prize you need to earn.

“Nuh-uh.”

He twists a single finger in the air, slow and deliberate, as if wagging it at a disobedient child.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“Not yet.”

“The fuck?”

Frustration spikes in your chest, hot and insistent. Without thinking, you lunge, half-sitting, half-sprawled over Geto in an attempt to snatch a cup from Gojo’s grasp. The action is desperate, ridiculous—and so are you—and it only makes Gojo’s smirk deepen, his amusement damn near suffocating.

“You’ll have to beg for it,” he whispers, voice just low enough to be a secret shared between the two of you. Each word is slow, deliberate, rolling off his tongue like he’s savoring the taste. Like he wants you to hear him.

A sharp laugh escapes you before you can stop it. Because—what the fuck?

Does he seriously think this is funny?

"The audacity," you bite out, yanking the cup from his grasp. But before you can retreat back to your comfortable position, something warm envelops your skin—firm, unyielding.

His fingers curl around your wrist, trapping you in place.

"Not that one," he says quickly, almost too quickly, his eyes flickering between the cup and your face with something close to panic.

Your brows furrow. "What, did you lace it or something?"

"No," he snaps, but there's a hesitation in his voice. A beat of silence, thick enough to choke on.

Geto shifts beneath you, the movement subtle, but you can feel it. When you glance at him, expecting discomfort, all you see is—interest. His dark eyes are sharp, locked onto the unfolding situation, his lips pressed into something unreadable. He isn’t intervening. He’s watching. Observing.

But before you can dwell on it, Gojo speaks again.

"It's vodka."

You squint at him, a grimace pulling at your features. "...So?"

His grip doesn't loosen. If anything, it tightens. Steady. Familiar. Too much like before.

"You hate vodka" he says, as if it's fact.

Your jaw tightens. "No, I don’t—"

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"C'mon, sweetheart, you do."

"First of all, stop calling me that," you snap, irritation flaring in your chest. "And second of all, I literally don’t."

"Really?" His head tilts, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "‘Cause last time I remember you drinking vodka, you were sixteen, throwing up your soul, crying out that you’d never drink it again after it rearranged your guts."

Your fingers tighten around the cup, knuckles whitening.

His voice is laced with something mocking, something goading—but beneath it, there’s something else. Something real.

And the worst part?

He remembers.

"Jesus," you scoff, your gaze flickering to Geto, who’s still a little too invested in what’s unfolding between you and Gojo. Your chest tightens, a storm brewing behind your eyes. "I grew out of it."

Your words come out sharp, clipped, as your eyes snap to Gojo, your face flushed with annoyance. He doesn’t know what it was like. He doesn’t get it. You can’t believe he's dredging up your past like this.

You don’t need him to remember.

You don’t need any of it.

And you definitely don’t need more reminders of him. Of you.

And yet, there’s his voice, sliding under your skin like a cold knife. He knows you. Too well.

Your throat tightens, and your pulse runs cold. You yank your hand back, the motion jerky, and as your fingers slip from his grip, some of the drink splashes onto Geto’s shirt.

"Oh, shit." You curse under your breath, your heart racing as you frantically try to dab at the stain.

"I’m so sorry," you mutter, your words tumbling out in a rush, your fingers moving quickly to clean the mess.

"It’s just a few drops, hun. Relax," Geto responds, a bemused smile playing on his lips as he settles into a more comfortable position, now that you’ve moved away from the awkward entanglement. He pauses, looking between the two of you, the air thick with tension.

"There's really some bad blood between y’all," Geto notes casually, his hands darting to sweep the hair on his forehead back, the night’s chaos taking its toll on his usually composed appearance.

You can hear Gojo scoff softly, his lips curling into that trademark grin that you hate, but know all too well. You try to ignore it, but the sound makes something in your chest tighten.

"Please," Gojo mutters under his breath, eyes glinting with something that borders on amusement and annoyance.

“There isn't. This asshole just won’t leave me alone,” you snap, the words spilling out faster than you intend. They feel bitter on your tongue, too sharp, too telling. Gojo watches you closely, his eyes dancing over every flicker of emotion on your face like he’s dissecting you, waiting for you to slip. The corner of his mouth twitches—not quite a smirk, but something more insufferable. Something different.

So you do the only thing you can—you take a sip of your drink. Slowly. Purposefully. Just to spite him. His gaze doesn’t waver, locking onto your face as if he’s counting the seconds it takes for you to react. You know what he wants. He wants you to gag, to grimace, to prove him right. He wants Gojo Satoru Wins printed in bold letters across your forehead. So you let the vodka sear your throat, let it claw its way down, your expression unreadable as you swallow the fire.

Geto stretches beside you, his back arching slightly, muscles shifting beneath his shirt as he rolls out the tension in his neck. “Gee, now that you two have spent five minutes bickering about vodka, I just realized… doesn’t everyone have a near-death experience with it at some point?” His voice is casual, but there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he watches the silent war unfolding between you and Gojo.

Gojo scoffs dramatically, tipping his head back as if the memory physically pains him. “Yeah, well, she was puking all over my room. Not funny.” His voice drips with mock offense, and he pointedly addresses Geto like you aren’t sitting right there.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, but before you can fire back, Geto perks up, his lips twitching like he’s suppressing a grin. “Oh shit. That reminds me—once, I drank like ten shots of clear vodka on a school trip,” he says, his fingers lazily running through the loose strands of his hair before tying them back into a neater bun. “And I puked inside my roommate’s backpack. And the backpack was filled with his clothes.”

You nearly choke on your drink, a laugh bursting out of you before you can help it. Even Gojo, for all his theatrics, lets out a chuckle.

“No way,” you gasp between laughs, eyes wide as you turn to face Geto fully. “You vomited in his bag? Like, all his clothes were just—”

“—coated in it,” Geto confirms with a slow, amused nod. His shoulders shake slightly as he laughs at the memory. “It wasn’t even intentional. I passed out, woke up, and there he was, flipping the bag inside out like he was inspecting a crime scene. Poor guy was horrified.”

Your laughter only grows, shoulders trembling as you picture it. “Oh my god, Geto—”

Gojo clicks his tongue, shaking his head with faux disappointment. “Tsk, tsk, Suguru. And here I thought you had class.”

Geto lets out a low chuckle, stretching his long legs out in front of him, completely unfazed. “C’mon, like you’ve never had a drunk horror story.”

Gojo places a hand on his chest, gasping dramatically. “Me? I am a respectable, responsible young man.”

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck. “I distinctly remember you breaking into a vending machine with a baseball bat at fifteen because it ‘refused to give you your damn twix’.”

Geto hums, tilting his head. “Now that’s what I'm talking about.”

Gojo grins, stretching his arms behind his head like he’s perfectly at ease. “Okay, first of all, that vending machine deserved it. It stole my money. Second of all, what does this have to do with anything?”

You scoff, leaning back onto your palms, your body angled slightly toward Geto. “The point is, you are not respectable or responsible. You are, in fact, insane.”

Gojo feigns offense, but his grin only widens. He shifts closer to Geto, his hand accidentally knocking against yours, forcing you to acknowledge his presence in that unbearable way of his. “And yet, sweetheart,” he drawls, voice laced with amusement, “you still can’t seem to stay away from me.”

Your breath catches, but you school your expression into something unimpressed, tilting your chin up in defiance. “Maybe I just enjoy the suffering. Watching you exist is like witnessing a live car crash—horrible, tragic, but I just can’t look away.”

Geto snorts, barely containing his laughter as Gojo places a hand over his heart like you just mortally wounded him. “Wow. The betrayal. I’ll remember this, you know.”

“Good,” you quip, taking another sip of your drink, letting the burn replace the unexpected warmth rising in your chest. “I hope it haunts you.”

Gojo smirks, eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again, sharp and playful. “Oh,” he murmurs, voice dipping into something lower, something dangerous, “wouldn’t you like to.”

And just like that, the game shifts. The air thickens. Geto exhales a quiet breath, sensing the shift in energy between you two, but he doesn’t comment. He simply watches, eyes gleaming with amusement.

You don’t look away. You refuse to look away. Because looking away means losing. Looking away means admitting that, despite everything—despite the venom, despite the years—you still can’t shake Gojo Satoru from your skin.

And then you hear your name being yelled through the apartment—so loud, it rattles your bones, and for a split second, you swear the walls might just collapse under the weight of it.

“Aiko’s bedroom!” you shout, barely able to catch the surprise that’s rising in your chest. You don’t even have time to brace yourself before Ren, like some sort of comic book character, pops into view.

His hair’s a mess, clearly a product of the shenanigans he was up to earlier. His cheeks are flushed, and his lips? Swollen, the aftermath of two hours of very enthusiastic kissing. His eyes are a little too dazed, that signature look of “oh shit, here we go again” in full force. He’s probably falling in love again. But that’s Ren for you—he falls in love once a month, like clockwork. And honestly, who could blame him?

But despite his usual charm, Ren just stands there in the doorway. His posture is rigid, and his body frozen in place, as if he's trying to process what he’s just walked into. He blinks. Rapidly. Over and over, like he’s trying to shake off the image before him, but it’s still there. Staring right at him. Gojo. The unknown guy he recognizes from that shirtless profile pic—Geto. You. And now, him too.

The silence stretches, thick and uncomfortable, before Ren finally blinks a few more times. His gaze darts between the three of you, his expression shifting subtly. You can catch it before he even speaks.

Confusion.

It's written all over his face—the slight furrow of his brow, the hesitation in his step as he takes in the scene. His eyes linger just a little too long on Gojo and Geto, the realization dawning on him as he tries to piece everything together. But he doesn’t say a word—not yet. He just stands there, rooted to the spot like a deer in headlights.

And in that instant, you know—Ren’s caught between figuring out what’s really going on and wrestling with the strange sense of displacement that’s clinging to him like a second skin.

“Damn… Y’all having a threesome or something?” Ren bites out, his voice carrying that playful edge you know too well. You can’t help but crack a laugh under his gaze. His eyes, sharp and observant, are fixed on you now—analyzing every little shift in your posture, the subtle way you breathe, like he’s trying to read you, trying to figure out what the hell just went down while he was gone.

It’s typical Ren—always looking to lighten the mood, to ease whatever tension lingers in the air. And, as always, he succeeds.

You smirk, not missing a beat. “You really think I’d indulge in anything polyamorous without you?” you snark back, the words coming out with that familiar bite, the playful sarcasm that’s been your go-to with Ren for years.

Ren’s eyes widen in mock horror, his lips parting as he gasps dramatically. “Well I certainly hope not,” he exclaims, his hand flying to his chest as if you’ve just stabbed him in the heart.

You roll your eyes, still chuckling at his antics, but there's a subtle warmth in the way he reacts, the way he pulls you back to a sense of normalcy, even after everything that’s just unfolded in the room. You know, deep down, that Ren’s got your back. Even in the weirdest of situations.

Ren steps further into the room, his eyes still flicking from you to Gojo and Geto, his lips pulling into that mischievous grin you know too well. His fingers brush through his messy hair, still looking like he just stepped out of a whirlwind. "So, what's the deal with this... reunion?" Ren asks, his tone dripping with mock sweetness, his eyes narrowing on Gojo.

Gojo tilts his head slightly, giving Ren an assessing look, his usual cocky grin slipping into something a little more neutral. It’s clear the two haven’t exchanged more than a couple of awkward glances in years. “Ren,” Gojo mutters, his voice flat, like he’s still trying to figure out how to approach this. “Still making an entrance, I see.”

Ren shrugs, unbothered, but there’s something more guarded about him now. "Could say the same about you, Gojo," he replies coolly, not backing down. His gaze flickers between Gojo and Geto, the tension palpable, but he doesn't seem phased by it. “Guess some things never change."

“Like you being a pain in the ass?” Gojo shoots back with a smirk, clearly trying to keep the conversation light despite the underlying awkwardness.

Ren’s lips curl into a grin. "Oh, I’m pretty sure you were the one who made being a pain in the ass an art form," he shoots back, his voice dripping with playful venom. "But you wouldn’t know anything about that, huh?"

Gojo's expression falters for a second, the history between the three of you briefly surfacing. There’s a brief flicker in his eyes before he looks away. "Yeah, well, I’ve had other things to focus on," he mutters, half to himself. There's a lot unsaid in those words.

Ren laughs, his voice slightly more genuine this time. "Sure, whatever you say," he teases, his gaze softening as he looks at you for a brief moment before shifting his focus back to Gojo.

Geto, who has been silently observing the exchange, finally speaks up, his voice calm but laced with quiet amusement. “You two really never got past high school, huh?” His words hang in the air, cutting through the tension like a sharp knife. He leans back against the bed, his arms crossed, taking in the spectacle with a bemused smirk.

Ren snorts, rolling his eyes. "Guess some things are just too fun to let go of," he quips, turning his attention back to you, the familiarity of his banter making you feel a little more at ease despite everything that’s been happening.

You watch the back-and-forth with a mixture of amusement and disbelief, the strange energy between Ren and Gojo palpable. They used to be inseparable, best friends who could finish each other’s sentences, but now it’s like there’s an invisible wall between them—a history of unspoken words and unresolved tension that neither one is ready to address.

“Why does it feel like I’m witnessing a reunion of two exes who haven’t spoken in years?” You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all, shaking your head.

Ren raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “I’d say it’s more like an awkward ex-friends meet-up, but I’m not sure even that would explain the way Gojo’s looking at me,” he says, his voice teasing, but there’s a flicker of something else—something more guarded—underneath.

Gojo’s gaze flicks to Ren, sharp and calculating. "Don't flatter yourself. You were never that memorable," Gojo shoots back, but his words lack the bite they used to have. Instead, they feel more like a test—something he's unsure of himself.

Ren’s eyes narrow, a brief flash of something flickering in them before he forces a smile. "Right, just another part of your long list of things that don’t matter."

For a split second, the room feels like it’s holding its breath, the years between them heavier than any of the light-hearted jokes they try to make.

Finally, Geto clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Alright, enough with the weird tension. We’re not teenagers anymore,” he says, voice smooth but with a touch of authority. His eyes flick over to you, and then back to the two of them. “Can we all just be civil? For once?”

You look between all of them, feeling the weight of the moment. It’s been a long time since you were in the same room together and you know the real issue is far deeper than few words or an old grudge.

Ren shrugs, his casual demeanor returning. “I’m fine as long as the drinks keep coming,” he quips, his earlier tension dissipating a little. He looks at you with that familiar glint in his eyes, the one that reminds you he’s still your Ren—no matter what’s changed.

You smile back at him, trying to shake off the awkwardness.

You only now notice a bottle he’s been holding the entire time dangling from his fingers like he’s just found the Holy Grail. “Mhm, honey. Jack Daniel’s,” he hums, presenting the bottle with an exaggerated flourish, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

“Thank God,” you groan, snatching it from his hands and taking a deep swig straight from the bottle. The burn is immediate, spreading through your chest like a slow-moving fire. This. This is the real shit.

Ren’s eyes flicker to the plastic cup still in your grip, squinting at it like it personally offended him. “Wait. What the fuck is that?”

“Vodka.”

His entire expression morphs into disgust. “But, babe, you hate vodka,” he says, crossing his arms like a disapproving mother catching her child doing something dumb.

“HA, I told you—” Gojo starts, the smuggest look imaginable on his face, but Geto lazily lifts a hand to cut him off.

“Who cares?” Geto groans, throwing his head back against the wall. “I swear to god, if I have to hear one more thing about vodka, I’m leaving this room.”

You see the flicker of realization cross Ren’s face. He’s thinking—reading the tension in the room, feeling the weird undercurrent of something unspoken. But he doesn’t say anything. Lets the vodka talk stay mystery.

“Let’s just get obliterated,” Geto declares, reaching for the bottle.

And so you do.

Ren plops onto the floor, limbs sprawled out dramatically as the four of you pass the bottle around like a sacred ritual. But between the four of you, it’s Ren who’s truly on the fast track to blackout city. A few gulps in and his mouth hangs open like a fish gasping for air.

“And,” Ren slurs, words tumbling out too fast, “he’s so hot, guys. I can’t explain. He literally ate my throat with his tongue.”

You groan, gripping the bottle like it can save you from this conversation. “Jesus Christ, Ren.”

Gojo snorts, eyes half-lidded from alcohol but still sharp enough to be insufferable. “Now, that,” he drawls, amusement curling at his lips, “just sounds like he doesn’t know how to kiss.”

“THANK you,” you exclaim, gesturing at Gojo like he just solved world hunger.

“No, no, I’m telling you,” Ren insists, his hands moving wildly as he tries to physically reenact the experience. His fingers dance in the air like he’s molding the memory into existence. “It was hot. Like really hot.”

Gojo shakes his head, grinning. “Rookie mistake. If someone’s eating your face, it’s not hot. It’s a cry for help.”

Ren glares at him, or tries to, but he’s too drunk for it to be anything but vaguely cross-eyed. “You wouldn’t know, Satoru. I heard all about the way you kiss.”

Gojo narrows his eyes. “Oh?”

You can see it now—Ren’s gearing up for a drunk argument, and Gojo’s drunk enough to entertain it. And you don’t really want to hear about Gojo and you kissing.

Geto, ever the wise one, exhales deeply. “I swear to god,” he mutters, rubbing a hand down his face. “Every time I drink with people, I lose a little more faith in humanity.”

Ren points at him like he just remembered he exists. “Wait. You.”

Geto blinks, clearly caught off guard. “Me?”

“You. You’re like, cool or whatever.”

“…Thanks?”

Ren tilts his head, processing something in real-time. “Wait, who are you?”

Geto laughs, genuinely amused. “Geto Suguru.”

Ren nods as if that means anything to him. He has a tendency to forget familiar faces as soon as alcohol enters his system.

“Cool. You’re not ugly.”

“I appreciate that?”

You snort, handing the bottle back to Ren as you lean into the bed, feeling the night settle into that warm, buzzing state of intoxication.

Gojo, meanwhile, is staring at Ren like he’s trying to solve a particularly annoying puzzle. They haven’t spoken in years. Haven’t even acknowledged each other’s existence until tonight.

Ren notices and immediately squints back at him. “Dude, you’re creepy.”

Gojo doesn’t answer immediately. Just holds eye contact for a beat too long before finally saying, deadpan, “You’re still annoying.”

Ren bursts into laughter, so violently it makes you start laughing. “And you’re still a bitch.”

Geto chokes on his drink.

You cackle.

Ren’s cackling is still echoing in the room when you, already a few gulps too deep into the whiskey, prop yourself up dramatically. Your head flops back, and you sigh dreamily, voice slurred but mischievous.

“You know,” you drawl, gaze flickering toward Geto, who’s nursing the bottle now, “Geto kisses reeeaaally well.”

Geto nearly spits out his drink. Gojo’s eyebrows shoot up so fast it’s like they’re trying to escape his face.

Ren, on the other hand, gasps so dramatically you’re convinced he just found out a life-altering secret. His hands slap against the floor as he drags himself closer to you like a scandalized reality TV star. “EXCUSE ME?”

You blink at him lazily, lips curling. “What?”

Ren is still sprawled on the floor like a starfish, eyes wide with scandal as he processes what you just said. “You kissed him?” His voice goes up an octave, like you just confessed to murder.

Gojo’s grip tightens around his cup, but his expression stays maddeningly unreadable. He scoffs, leaning back against the bed like this is so beneath him. “Damn. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“You literally interrupted us dumbfuck. Don’t act so surprised now.”

Geto raises a lazy eyebrow, swirling the bottle in his hand. “Wow. Just announcing it like that, huh?”

You ignore them, too busy focusing on Ren, who suddenly sits up like a detective cracking a case. His hands slap the floor as if he’s in pain. “WAIT. Did he like that story you posted for him?” He narrows his eyes, leaning in, looking entirely too nosy. “HMM?”

Your drunk brain takes a second to catch up. And then it clicks.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you lunge for him, but Ren dodges, rolling away in an exaggerated move, cackling like a maniac.

“HE DIDN’T, DID HE?” he yells, laughing so hard he’s practically wheezing.

You throw a pillow at him, but he just lets it hit him in the face, unbothered. “Oh my god. That’s so embarrassing.”

You groan. “He didn’t even see it, okay? It’s not that deep.”

Geto takes a slow sip of whiskey, unbothered. “Wait. What story?”

You glare at Ren. “Nothing.”

Ren gasps. “Ohhh, you really thought he’d like it or at least see it, didn’t you? Oh my god, that’s so much worse—”

You grab the bottle out of Geto’s hand and take a long, long sip. “I hate you.”

Gojo, who had been suspiciously silent for the last few minutes, finally speaks up. “Wait. Back up.” He clicks his tongue, his jaw a little too tight. “So you’re telling me you posted some pathetic thirst trap for Geto, and he didn’t even notice?” His voice is all mockery, but his fingers are drumming against the plastic cup like he’s irritated.

Geto just shrugs. “Didn’t see it.”

Ren turns to you with an expression that can only be described as suffering. “Oh my god, that’s so tragic.”

“Tragic,” Gojo echoes dryly, drinking you with his eyes. His tone is biting, but you catch the way his fingers twitch. “You really thought Suguru was gonna—what? Fall to his knees? Write you a love letter?” He lets out a short laugh, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “That’s adorable.”

You roll your eyes, feeling the whiskey settle warm in your stomach. “I don’t recall asking for your input, Satoru.”

Gojo clicks his tongue, tilting his head at you, and for a second, his eyes flicker with something unreadable. “I just think it’s funny,” he hums, slow and deliberate, “how suddenly you’re all over Suguru. Like you’re trying to prove a point or something.”

Your breath hitches, but you refuse to let him see it. “Or maybe,” you shoot back, “He’s just hot and kisses really well.”

Ren lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest like you just hit him. “Oh my god, you really went there.”

Gojo goes dead silent. His jaw clenches.

Geto, on the other hand, just chuckles, amused. “Appreciate it,” he says simply, taking another sip.

Gojo leans forward suddenly, his knuckle brushing against yours, his lips curling into something almost smug—but there’s something tight in his expression, something sharp behind his words. “Huh. That’s crazy.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

Gojo smirks, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Just thinking about all the times you used to say I was the best you’d ever had.”

Silence.

Ren screeches. “OH MY GOD—”

You launch yourself at him, but Gojo is already laughing, leaning back before you can hit him, his grin widening as you sputter.

Geto sighs, shaking his head. “Here we go.”

Ren is on the floor howling.

You stare at him, feeling your face heat up. “Ren, I hate you.”

Gojo, still smirking, raises his cup. “To being unforgettable.”

You throw a pillow at him next.

Conversation shifts after that but the room feels smaller, the air heavier. Or maybe it’s just the alcohol catching up to you. But no matter how much you try to focus on Ren passionately defending the Slytherin agenda while Geto just smirks and plays devil’s advocate, purposely sliding with Gryffindor to spite Ren, your skin prickles under Gojo’s gaze. It’s like he’s physically pressing into you, eyes burning into the side of your face.

You don’t want to look.

You shouldn’t look.

But you do.

And fuck, it’s a mistake.

Because the moment your eyes meet his, you know you’re done for.

His expression is unreadable—lazy, casual, lips barely curled in amusement. But his eyes tell a different story. They’re sharp, too sharp, darkened at the edges, flickering with something you can’t name. Something that makes your stomach flip in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

The way he’s looking at you—punishing is the only word that comes to mind.

Like he wants to undo you.

Like he wants you to remember something you’ve spent years trying to forget.

Your grip tightens around the whiskey bottle, nails digging into the glass.

Ren’s voice is distant, blurred. “—Okay but Slytherins are literally—hello? Earth to you, hun?”

You snap your head toward him, almost too quickly, feeling your pulse thunder in your ears. “Huh?”

Ren frowns, tilting his head. “Are you even listening? I swear to god, if you’re mentally making out with someone right now, I’ll—”

“I’m not,” you cut him off, voice coming out too forcefully. You force a smirk, lifting the bottle to your lips. “I just zoned out. Keep yelling about Hogwarts, it’s entertaining.”

Ren narrows his eyes, suspicious, but he lets it slide, turning back to Geto. “Anyway. As I was saying—”

You try to focus. You really do. But you can still feel Gojo watching you, that same insufferable, unreadable expression lingering on his face.

And when you finally glance back at him—just for a second—he tilts his head, slow and deliberate.

Then he smirks.

And fuck, you know he knows.

Ren, still sprawled dramatically on the floor, waves his arms in the air like he’s conducting a symphony. “No, no, no, listen. Slytherins aren’t evil—”

“They just happen to have, what? A monopoly on war crimes?” Geto cuts in smoothly, swirling his drink in one hand.

Ren gasps like Geto just slapped his mother. “EXCUSE ME?”

You choke on your whiskey, the sudden shriek piercing through your drunken haze. “Oh my god.”

“No, because listen—” Ren scrambles up to sit cross-legged, hands flailing wildly. “Slytherins are just misunderstood.”

“Oh, sure.” Geto nods, voice dripping with amusement. “I’m sure Voldemort was just looking for a hug.”

Ren points an accusing finger at him. “See, that is a stereotype.”

“Oh, I’m the problem?” Geto raises an eyebrow, the smirk tugging at his lips sending Ren into a spiral.

“Yes, Suguru,” Ren drags out his name dramatically. “You and your blatant anti-Slytherin agenda—”

Meanwhile, Gojo is still staring at you. Like he’s enjoying this entire mess but not quite participating. Like he’s content watching you squirm.

And you hate that it’s working.

So you snap toward him, leveling him with a glare. “What?”

He tilts his head, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face. “What, what?”

“You’re staring.”

He blinks, mock innocence all over his face. “Am I?”

You clench your jaw. “Yes.”

Gojo hums, dragging his gaze over your face like he’s memorizing it. “Huh. Guess you’re just fun to look at.”

And then, as if the universe decided to ruin the moment in one swift punch, two unfortunate events unfold.

First—Geto’s phone buzzes on the table, the screen lighting up with an incoming call. A girl’s name. A girl’s picture. Of course. Your stomach churns, irritation bubbling under your skin. He’s kissed you, gotten high with you, shared whiskey straight from the bottle, and now he’s slinking away from the room to answer some other girl’s call like a pathetic, obedient little puppy. Disgusting.

And then—Ren explodes.

Like, quite literally. One second, he’s swaying where he sits, eyes unfocused. The next—he’s projectile vomiting all over the floor.

“FUCK—” you scramble, instinctively dropping down beside him, hand rubbing circles on his back. “Oh my god, Ren—breathe—”

But he can’t breathe.

Because he’s too busy dying.

Gojo, in a surprising act of heroism, curses under his breath and runs to the bathroom, emerging seconds later with whatever he could grab to clean up the disaster zone that is now Ren’s life.

And then, through his tears and the unrelenting flow of puke, Ren practically begs you to take him home.

So you do. Or at least, you try.

You’re struggling. Ren is practically melting in your arms, his legs all but giving out, and you’re using every ounce of strength to keep him upright. He’s mumbling incoherently against your shoulder, completely useless in his drunken state.

Gojo is still standing there, watching. Holding a piece of crumpled toilet paper. Unhelpful. Smug. Annoying.

“I can help, y’know.” His voice is as lazy as ever, but you can hear the undercurrent of amusement. He’s enjoying this.

“I don’t,” you grunt, adjusting your grip on Ren, “need your help.”

Gojo lets out a low whistle. “Yeah? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re about to collapse under him like a poorly built Jenga tower.”

You glare at him, breath heavy. “I’ve got this.”

“Oh, sure. Super convincing,” Gojo drawls, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You’re wobbling more than he is, and he’s literally unconscious.”

“Shut up,” you snap, shifting Ren’s weight again. “Just stand there and be useless like always.”

Gojo rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Because I’m the one making this harder than it needs to be.” He takes a step closer, and you can feel his presence now, heat radiating off him despite the cool night air. His voice drops, softer but sharper. “It’s not about you, sweetheart. It’s about him. If you love him, you’ll let me help.”

Your jaw tightens. Your pride screams at you to tell him to fuck off.

But you do love Ren. And Ren needs help.

So you exhale sharply and let your grip loosen, stepping back. “Fine.”

Gojo doesn’t gloat, doesn’t smirk—just smoothly moves in, slinging Ren’s arm over his shoulder like it’s effortless. And just like that, the weight is gone.

You blink at him, suddenly aware of how much easier things just got.

Gojo raises an eyebrow. “Was that so hard?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he smirks, adjusting Ren against him. “Let’s get this dumbass home.”

And together, the three of you stumble out of Aiko's apartment, into the humid night air.

The moment the Uber pulls up, Gojo shoves Ren inside and then—without a word—climbs in right after him.

The car feels like it’s swallowing you whole. It’s cramped, the air thick with the smell of alcohol and stale air freshener, and you can’t shake the feeling that something is off. The only sounds are Ren’s weak mutterings and the soft, almost rhythmic hum of the radio in the background. It’s just the three of you (and the driver) now, moving through the streets as the night rolls on, heavy with unspoken tension.

You absently twirl a lock of your hair, eyes flicking between Ren’s pale face and the darkness outside the window. You can feel Gojo’s gaze on you—like he’s right there, even if you’re not looking. You keep your eyes trained on Ren’s sickly form, avoiding him as best as you can. But it’s impossible to ignore the weight of his presence.

“Yeah, it probably did suit you better,” Gojo’s voice breaks the silence, low and slurred.

You blink, confused, eyes narrowing as you turn toward him. “What?”

“Nothing. Forget it,” he mutters quickly, looking out the window as if the words he’d just dropped didn’t matter at all. But the flicker of something dark in his eyes tells you otherwise.

The rest of the ride is eerily quiet. It’s just you, Gojo, and Ren, floating in this weird, suffocating space of unresolved tension. You can feel it between you and Gojo, this crackling electricity that’s too familiar and too sharp, like it could cut through the silence any moment. But neither of you says a word.

And so, the city passes by, the lights blurring into streaks of yellow and white, until you’re left with nothing but the sound of Ren’s breathing, the faint hum of the cab’s engine, and the unsaid words hanging in the air.

taglist :@zeunys @charmstarr @ovela @kur0mii3 @dabisdolly @17362939 @krispywhisperswhispers @mintcheery @kazupop @heh123321 @hanakotateyama @choppersworlds-blog @eneiyri @suniloli @44ina. @s4ikooo1 @blushedcheri @dishs0pe @rhea-sylvea @eolivy @gojoprincesss @decadentcoffeecandy @4thansstuff

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cosmicdahlias · 8 months ago

Text

Monthly Chivalry

Ford Pines x Reader

MINORS DNI

Your time of the month has hit you like a truck. Ford proposes an idea to alleviate your pain.

tags: blood, praise kink, period oral, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, period sex, p in v, creampie

i asked if y’all wanted a period sex fic and got an overwhelming yes of 44 notes. i’ve always been into the concept of period sex and i had no idea so many of y’all are too. we really all freaks up in this bitch.

You lay in bed with your boyfriend and research partner, Ford, his bare chest pressed against your back and his arm wrapped around you. You scrolled on your phone with a heating pad on your stomach, unable to sleep. You were once again struck with the monthly “gift” from mother nature.

Ever since you first started having periods you were always afflicted with cramps that left you in unbearable pain. Ibuprofen helped somewhat, but the discomfort was still significant. You curled in a fetal position as you felt a cramp throb in your stomach.

“Oh dear, is it getting bad again?” Ford asked.

You nodded and he slipped a six fingered hand under your heating pad to your stomach.

“I hate seeing you like this every month. Is there anything I can do to help? I could make a pot of herbal tea if you’d like.” He offered.

“No, it’s okay. If the heating pad is barely doing anything, I doubt tea will do me much good.”

“My poor stardust, I just wish I could take away your pain someho-“

He stopped, an idea forming. You rolled over and looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Well, there is… something we could try. I’ve read that sex during menstruation can actually be quite beneficial. The contractions from an orgasm cause the uterus to relax, which is incredibly effective at alleviating cramps. Furthermore, increased circulation causes clitoral and vaginal sensitivity during this time of the month which can intensify orgasms. Would you be willing to give it a shot?”

You had to admit, your period did always dramatically increase your sex drive and something about him being open to try what most men would never even consider doing was incredibly arousing. That and with your pain you were more than on board. You put a hand to his chest.

“Let’s do it.” You said enthusiastically.

“Very good. Let me go fetch a towel.”

Ford left the room and returned with a towel, setting it on the bedside table. He got on top of you, kissing you and lifting your shirt, taking in the sight of your chest.

“Goodness, I love how your breasts get larger during your cycle.”

He took one in his hand and stroked your nipple with his thumb, making you moan softly.

“They also get more sensitive.” You purred.

“Mmm, I can tell.” He whispered.

Ford lifted your hips, placing the towel underneath you, and slipping your pajama pants and panties off of you. He lowered himself down your body, leaving a trail of kisses and edging dangerously close to your pussy.

“Oh Ford, you’re not gonna-“

“Do you not want me to?”

“N- no I don’t mind it in theory, I just… don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

“I appreciate your concern, but have you considered that I want to do this? To taste you? May I?”

You turned deep scarlet, suddenly remembering Ford’s journal entry on giant vampire bats. Him craving blood “more than usual” after being bitten by one, which when his nephew shone a blacklight on the entry revealed it to be nothing more than a fruit bat, a detail Ford curiously left out of his story when he recounted it before you two became a couple. There was also the scratched out phrase “human blood tastes better”. You knew Ford had some kinks that were… out there to say the least, so this really shouldn’t have been a surprise to you.

You nodded.

“Good girl.” He said.

He dragged his tongue up your pussy to your clit.

“My god, you taste so good like this.” He moaned against you.

“Do I really?”

“Yes, it’s intoxicating.”

Ford sucked your clit, rolling it with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. He slipped his fingers in your pussy, curling them at your g-spot. The increased sensitivity was definitely a thing, it wouldn’t take much longer for him to make you cum. You bucked yourself against him, tightening around is fingers, you were close.

“That’s it, let yourself cum on my tongue.” Ford cooed.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, cumming on his face with a loud moan. He didn’t let up, keeping at the same pace of both fingers and tongue. He coaxed a second orgasm, then a third. He finally stopped at six, leaving you an overwhelmed, shaking mess.

“Ohhhhhhh goddddd, Ford. You’re gonna kill meeeee.” You groaned.

“Sorry, stardust. The whole point of this was to relieve your pain and I just wanted to be thorough.”

He pulled out his fingers, licking them, then looked up at you. Blood covered the bottom half of his face.

You gave a weak laugh. “Ford, your face.”

“What? Oh!”

Ford wiped his mouth and chin clean with the edge of the towel. He moved himself to sit next to you, taking your face in his hand and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“How do you feel now? Better?” He whispered.

He leaned down to kiss you and you gave yourself a second to assess your pain. It was still there, but you had to admit he’d made a difference.

“I think so.”

“Good. Now, I could stop here, but do you want to continue?”

“I think such chivalry deserves to be rewarded.”

“Good girl. I’ve wanted to know for so long what being inside you during your time of the month feels like.”

Ford got off the bed and slipped his flannel pajama pants and boxers down his legs. He was already so hard for you, his cock twitching and leaking more precum than you’d ever seen from him before. You made a mental note to probe him for more of his kinks in the future if it meant working him up like this.

He returned to the bed, getting on top of you and angling his cock at your entrance. He slowly slipped inside you, immediately giving an insanely loud moan.

“D- dear Moses. You’re always so wet for me, but this is incredible. You feel so perfect.”

Ford began to thrust into you. Christ, he felt even better than usual.

“Holy fuuuuck, you weren’t kidding about the increased sensitivity.” You whimpered.

“I’m glad this is as pleasurable for you as it is for me, princess.”

You moved your hips back on him.

“Oh god, I swear you’re tighter. You’re practically constricting me.” Ford moaned.

“Sounds like we need to do this more often.”

“That we do.”

Ford picked up his pace, the wet sounds of your pussy increasing in volume.

“Oh my GOD, do you hear that? Do you hear how wet you are like this?” Ford asked.

He pulled out momentarily, sitting up on his knees and dragging you by your hips onto the tip of his cock. He threw your legs over his shoulders, slamming every inch inside you as you cried out in a deafening moan.

“God, I know you love this position, the way it allows me to go even- mmn, fuck- deeper. I’m not making your cramps worse am I?” Ford asked.

“No.”

“No? How does it feel then? And make sure to use your words, stardust.”

He slipped his fingers between your thighs, stroking your already beyond sensitive clit and moving his hips at a breakneck speed. He did this with the intention of overstimulating you, a game he played often to watch you struggle to answer him coherently.

“Nnnhh, I- I c- can’t. N- not f- fair.” You whimpered.

Ford smirked.

“I know, I’m the worst. I just love seeing you writhe underneath me.” He teased.

His breathing became heavy, his fast pace turning sloppy.

“I’m close, where do you want it, stardust?” He asked.

“I- In me, p- please.” You begged.

“God, you’re so good for me. Are you going to cum with me?”

You nodded.

“That’s my girl.”

Ford managed a few more thrusts before you came undone on his cock. The sensation of you pulsing around him caused him to give a moan and dig his nails into your calf, burying his entire length and cumming hot thick ropes deep inside you.

Words failed him for a moment, the only sounds being heavy breathing from the two of you before he finally spoke.

“H- how are you feeling? Good?” He panted, still attempting to catch his breath.

You nodded, incredibly overstimulated and unable to form a real sentence.

“I’m glad.” He said.

Ford pulled out and the both of you looked down. Blood coated not only his cock, but his and your thighs. Thankfully the towel prevented anything from staining the sheets. Ford gave a chuckle.

“Looks like we made more of a more of a mess than I had anticipated. How about I run hot bath to clean us up?” He asked, leaning down to kiss you.

“Stanford Pines, a gentleman as always. Sounds perfect.”

#gravity falls #ford pines #ford pines x reader #ford pines fanfic #ford pines smut #my fics

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gaiaseyes451 · 5 months ago

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Coriander & Mint - A New Fic Collab with @daneecastle

It’s time for more South Down fluff! Y’all, y’all. Just look at this gorgeousness from @daneecastle! Go follow her, grab her Patreon, show her how amazing she is!

Coriander & Mint, Rated: E, ~4k, no CW/TW

Summary: Aziraphale attempts to make brunch late one sunny, summer morning. Crowley helps.

Excerpt: The garden had produced beautifully season after season and the summer yield was promising to be no less plentiful. It was perfectly logical, then, that they should learn how to cook.

Or rather, Aziraphale is learning how to cook. Crowley lopes about the kitchen, fetching a pan or slicing some veg while Aziraphale pesters him about proper knife technique and minding his fingertips. Essentially, despite his insistence that he is assisting, Crowley is an absolute, adorable nuisance whenever Aziraphale is cooking.

And Aziraphale would have it no other way.

Read on AO3

A big thanks to my beta’s @the-literal-kj and @hakunahistata as well as @paperclipninja and @wingsofopal for lending their unique knowledge! 😂 And, of course, to @goodomensafterdark for forcing encouraging me to write fluff. 😉

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens fanfiction #my fics #good omens fanfic #ineffable husbands #good omens fanart #good omens 2 #south downs cottage #domestic fluff #kitchen smut #good omens fic

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poirolivia · 1 month ago

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So y’all know how in Puppeteer from Epic the Musical has that whole thing where Eurylochus (I forgor how his name is spelled) is all like saying how Circe’s femininity drew them in?

Well…there is one other thing they could’ve met on their journey to cause them to pause.

Picture this: they’re in the Underworld, Ody’s off doing his Monster song, and he gets back and most of his remaining crew is nowhere to be seen. He asks Eury what happened and he does the same spiel as in Puppeteer and Ody’s like fuck not this again.

And then Eury says “but this was a hell of a twist, cause we are WEAK to a power like this!” Like in the og song, and Ody’s like what, another woman? And Eury goes no, a cute dog. And Ody remembers that Cerberus lives in the underworld too.

And then Eury’s like “he had us in just two words!” And you hear this booming voice from the baby boy of the dead going “CUDDLE TIME. PLEASE GIVE ME SOME SCRITCHES ON MY SPINE. A BELLY RUB WOULD BE JUST DIVINE. PET CERBIE! PLEASE HURRY AND PET CERBIE NOOOOOOWWWWW! 👹🐶🐶🐶”

And so Ody goes over and the crew is just hanging out with Cerberus, giving him treats, cuddles, playing fetch with him, etc. and so the trip to the Underworld doesn’t completely end in trauma and heartbreak.

#epic the underworld saga #epic the musical #epic odysseus #odysseus #eurylochus #cerberus

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broadway-karkat · 3 months ago

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HAPPY 4/13!!! I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR A GOOD WHILE NOW. AS YOU KNOW, I SPEAK ALTERNIAN, NOT HUMANESE, SO IT'S HARD FOR ME TO RAP. BUT I DID MY FUCKING BEST FOR YOU CURSED CREATURES. AS ALWAYS, YOU ARE FUCKING WELCOME.

YES THIS IS A STRIDER DISS. IT STARTED AS A TROLL DRAKE DISS BUT THEN... I DON'T KNOW, IT WENT TOO HARD FOR JUST THAT.

(Modkat stepping in to say this is NOT directed at any Dave voice-actors/singers, in fact I checked with some Dave voiceactors around the Tumblr-O-Sphere and they were cool with it. I've just been hyperfixated on this song ever since the superbowl halftime show and decided to have some fun with it! Kendrick Lamar thank you for my life)

ART BY KENNYKENBEE, LYRICS BY ME BELOW THE CUT

Psst, I see dead people (Sollux on the beat, yo)

Ayy, Sollux on the beat, yo Spit out some bars to my homie, it’s a free throw Man down, call an ambulance, tell him: Breathe, bro Got him to his quest bed now he walk around like Bozo

What's up with these greyless people tryna see Alternia? The humans can hate me, fuck 'em all and they lusus How many opps you really got? I mean, it's too many options I'ma fuck you up so bad, wish you weren’t adopted Beat your ass and hide the Texts if Sufferer’s watchin'

Sometimes you gotta pop out and show humans Certified god, I'm the one that up the score with 'em Walk him down, whole time I know he got some bite in him Jump on him, extort shit, bully, Death Row on him

Say, Dave, I hear you so ironic You better pray that condition’s not chronic To any bitch that talk to him and they in love Just make sure you ready for the heartbreak

They tell me John the only one that get your hand-me-downs And Rose at the party playin' with her drinks now And Jade got a weird tail, why is she around? Certified human gods? Certified fuckass clowns

Wop, wop, wop, wop, wop, KK, fuck 'em up Wop, wop, wop, wop, wop, I'ma do my stuff Why y’all whinin' like a bitch? Ain't you tired? Tryna strike a chord and it's probably uninspired

They not like us They not like us They not like us They not like us They not like us They not like us

You think we gon' let you disrespect the trolls, fucker? I think that planet is gon' be your last stop, fucker Did friends foul, I don't know why you still pretendin' What is the owl? Oh fuck it’s Davesprite, shit alright, go

The readers not dumb Shape the stories how you want, hey, Dave, they're not slow Rabbit hole is still deep, I can go further, I promise Ain’t that somethin’? Get your apple juice and go cry to your brother

Ain't no lie, boy, fetch red Faygo or somethin' Since 2010 I had this bitch jumpin' The trolls be all excited, just cheering for my victory Isn’t all just contradictory? Don’t even need to try. Fuckass

Striders up in the medium Might dial this more than a burn, tell the fake god quit hidin' Fuck a caption, want action, no accident and I'm hands-on, he fuck around, get polished

Killed yourself on a loop, now that's connivin' Then act all innocent without even apologizin' I’m sad for all the Daves, doomed by the main Strider From Alternia down to Earth, I’m sure y’all turn on deciders

And your boy need his ass beat, that ”cool kid” move in flocks Those names gotta be registered and placed on planetary watch I lean on you trolls for another hit on vibes Yeah, it's all eyes on me and I’mma follow all them guides, ayy

Put the wrong label on me, I'ma get 'em dropped, ayy Bway KK playin’ and I won't pass the aux, ayy How many fucks do I really have in stock? Ayy One, two, three, four, five, plus five, ayy

Scratching is a lie, he a wannabe God, ayy Freaky-ass humans need to stay they ass inside, ayy Kick they ass up like it’s me and my pride, ayy Alternia’s back up, it's a must, we outside, ayy

They not like us They not like us They not like us They not like us They not like us They not like us

Once upon a time, most of us was in chains Then the human doubled down callin' us some slaves Alternia had pailbots bringing all the pains Bear with me for a second, let me put y'all on aim

The humans was usin' trollfolk to cheat the game Did this on sneak and then was highly acclaimed You run to Alternia when you need a check balance Let me break it down for you, this the real troll challenge

You called Terezi when you didn't sniff the club (ayy, what?) Gamzee helped you get your lingo up (what?) Eridan gave you false hive cred Nep made you feel like a troll in your head (ayy, what?)

Vriska said you are from the outside (what?) Aradia say you good, but she lied You run to Alternia when you need a few boondollars No, you not a colleague, you a fuckin' colonizer

Troll players matter and the truth of the matter It was Sufferer’s plan to show y'all the liar

Mmm Mmm He a fan, he a fan, he a fan (mmm) He a fan, he a fan, he a

Freaky-ass human, he a wannabe God Freaky-ass human, he a wannabe God Hey, hey, hey, hey, run for your life Hey, hey, hey, hey, run for your life

Let me hear you say: KNIGHT OF BLOOD (knight of blood) Say: Knight of Blood (knight of blood) Now step this way, step that way Then step this way, step that way

Are you my friend? Are we locked in? Then step this way, step that way Then step this way, step that way

#broadway karkat #homestuck #413 #karkat vantas #broadwaystuck #karkat sings #karkat raps...?#not like us controversy

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bluemerakis · 7 months ago

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POV: BTS instagram posts of The Boys cast

A/n: Because I love Karl, I biased it toward a reader that’s his romantic partner and therefore the first reader’s posts is mostly BTS pics of him. Also, the little forehead peaking through on one of his insta posts is a reader insert. Honestly, have fun with this post and imagine you’re anybody’s partner lmfao (or don’t, free will bitches (lovingly)) Enjoy! PS. To my featured moots, I hope you like your cameos lmfao

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yourusername uh oh, they let me on set 😈📸

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karlurban 3d ♥︎ by author

somebody’s got a favourite character 😎🍻❤️

yourusername @/karlurban well yes! 🥰

jensenackles 3d ♥︎ by author

go away

yourusername @/jensenackles stfu fossil you’re spitting ashes from the 1900s 🗣️

gibson-g1rl 3d ♥︎ by author @/yourusername BYE he’s probably carrying remnants of the plague too

theboysgirl4 @/jensenackles they ate you up I fear 😭😭😭😭

theboystv 3d ♥︎ by author

we got a leak 🫣

yourusername @/theboystv you only have yourself to blame

randomuser203 @/theboystv YOUR HONOUR THEY’RE INNOCENT

babyfri3dric3 did you manage to get a BTS of the shower scene by any chance? Asking for the people of course (I am people)

karlsdirtysock19 @/babyfri3dric3 oh you’re so real for that 😭😭😭

theb0ysfanp4ge @/babyfri3dric3 can you imagine? 🤤

butchersb1tchhh WE NEED MORE, KEEP US FED SIS 🔥🔥🔥

feral4karlurban this post is making me weak in my creaky knees

user20381779037 omg what organ do I have to sell to be on set with the boys 😭😭😭

da1lyd1lfs @/user20381779037 LMFAO suddenly I have the black market on speed dial

homelanderth3homewrecker ok now invite us the fans PLEASE we beg 🙏 🙏

fukuharastangirl how to apply for the fifth picture’s position?

heyimyourdream_ @/fukuharastangirl girl if you find out pls let us know

funsideofd1lfss @/heyimyourdream decreasing the unemployment statistics one day at a time 🙏

karlurbanupdates1 Karl being covered in blood and posing with a smile is the most karl thing to do

butcherscadillacprin3ss @/karlurbanupdates1 sorry chat he just finished eating me out (I’m ovulating)

fernanda010 @/butcherscadillacprin3ss that’s a crazy thing to say on his partner’s post

hannahwithoutthemontana @/fernanda010 right!!

sahra1937love I love this! 😍 please post more pictures!

jillstalks1002 I had no idea karl was so strong 😳😳 that second pic!

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karlurban man, what a goodie ! 🔥 if y’all thought s4 was one heck of a ride , wait until you see what @/theboystv & @/primevideo have got in store for s5… love these fellas a ton ! Biggest thank you to my lover for taking care of me throughout filming and taking all the countless trips alongside me @/yourusername you’re a doll and I love you ❤️ . @/jeffreydeanmorgan has been a pleasure to work with so closely in this last season , can’t count the amount of retakes that had to be done after a fit of laughter . Love you brother , cheers ! 😎🍻 . And I love the rest of the cast and can’t wait to get back at it . See you soon , folks ! 👀🙏

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yourusername beautiful set of people ❤️ can’t believe my forehead made the cut

karlurban was hard to exclude it , took up the whole darn frame 😂

yourusername @/karlurban there’s a blanket and pillow on the couch x

jensenackles @/yourusername at least now you’ve got the whole bed to yourself and your forehead. Does that count as sleeping with someone?

yourusername @/jensenackles STOP IT 😭😭😭 @/gibson-g1rl come fetch your flea-bitten stray

gibson-g1rl @/yourusername sorry I left the gate open

jeffreydeanmorgan brother… it’s been a darn pleasure working alongside you. man.. what I’d give to relive that shit all over again. can’t wait to see what season 5 has got going for us. love ya xxxxx

karlurban @/jeffreydeanmorgan love you! ❤️

jensenackles @/jeffreydeanmorgan @/karlurban ship

deans__winchesterrg1rl @/jensenackles PLEASE 😭😭

seigeth3soldier yo when did soldier boy get the modern day humour update?

erinelairmoriarty cunt

erinelairmoriarty @/erinelairmoriarty -y with the depth and the warmth

jack_quaid @/erinelairmoriarty I see what you did there

iheartkimik0 @/erinelairmoriarty pls she’s funny 😭😭

starlighter4lyf @/erinelairmoriarty hello icon queen pls notice me

jensenackles thanks for the weed

Sallyheartsyou23 @/jensenackles this man is so unserious I love him 😭😭😭 his gf is so lucky

winchesterangel555 @/jensenackles so this is what dean becomes

theboystv who knows where the road leads 👀🔥

pizzza_hotelonmain3 @/theboystv WHAT ARENT YOU TELLING US

passenger.princesss08 @/pizzza_hotelonmain3 fr this comment made me so scared for season 5 now…

primevideo @/theboystv 👀👀👀

bless08jings @/theboystv @/primevideo y’all are just being mean now

lawingsterMaster9 @/bless08jings Using their social media powers for evil lmao

jameslenoa__ @/bless08jings when I find who runs the accounts… it’s over for everybody

jack_quaid still need your canary?

theboystv @/jack_quaid he’s asking the right question

ccertifiedplayb0y @/theboystv YALL NEEDA STOP

larkssong409 the fourth pic 🥹

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jensenackles Damn… that time again, already? What the hell is Soldier Boy going to get up to in Season 5 of @/theboystv… 👀

Enjoy a collection of what The Boys have been getting up to behind the curtains.

Stay tuned, folks! Here we go!

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gibson-g1rl 1d ♥︎ by author

omg who’s that handsome guy in the second last pic 😫

jensenackles @/gibson-g1rl don’t know his name but he looks like a Bertram

gibson-g1rl @/jensenackles you weren’t supposed to know I was talking about the dog 🙄

yourusername yummers granny lover is back 😍🔥

jensenackles @/yourusername uh oh galaxy forehead is back

yourusername @/jensenackles die

jensenackles @/yourusername apparently I can’t

gibson-g1rl @/jensenackles main character syndrome core 🙄

jeffreydeanmorgan gon be a goodie! xx

karenfukuhara I like your smoulder 🤨

gibson-g1rl @/karenfukuhara Dwayne Johnson would be proud

jaredpadalecki looks so fun! 😊

jensenackles @/jaredpadalecki brothaaaaa

porscialady001 @/jensenackles @/jaredpadalecki omg we need y’all to reunite on this show

samslady_winchestor_ @/porscialady001 I saw a TikTok where Jared confirmed he’ll be on season 5! 😭😭 I hope it’s for real

porscialady001 @/samslady_winchestor_ omg WHAT? girl I hope so

karlurban 😎😎

erinelairmortiarty soulja boy tell em 🗣️🗣️

acklesbabygirl I need him so bad y’all I can’t

deanwinchester.spngirl @/acklesbabygirl sigh me core but I could never compete with his goddess gf 😔

kimmylean2947 @/deanwinchester.spngirl y’all glazing her so hard, she’s mid 😂

deanwinchester.spngirl @/kimmylean2947 I’m sorry you literally look like the first scrapped draft of the homunculus LMFAO??? Let’s stay humble

neeracollins87 @/kimmylean2947 acting like you saying this gives you a chance with jensen girl pls your behaviour isn’t cute, check yourself

acklesbabygirl @/deanwinchester.spngirl LMFAO she made her acc private 😭😭😭

deanwinchester.spngirl thank god, saving the retinas of earth one person at a time

random.fangirl.updates. Omg 😍😍 wish I was the fan in the first pic

juliefoula182839 Jensen screaming in the 7th pic 😭😭😭 he’s so cute pls

jensenjacklescore oh how I wish I was that dog

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jeffreydeanmorgan Hell… it’s been a ride. Being Joe Kessler has been interesting to say the least. Fella’s got a thing for trouble… makes for a dangerous butcher-kessler duo! Love Karl a lot, had an awesome time filming with this guy @/karlurban xxxx it’s been a darn pleasure. And thanks a ton to @/erickripke1 for letting me become part of this awesome team. The crew are freakin amazing. See y’all soon. Better hold your horses for season 5.

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jensenackles 2d ♥︎ by author

Dad

jensenackles @/jensenackles who said that

thewalkingdead 2d ♥︎ by author

so this is what Negan’s been doing in his free time

karlurban 2d ♥︎ by author

unstoppable pair !

yourusername 2d ♥︎ by author

amazing work as always, Jeff! ❤️

theboystv 2d ♥︎ by author

you’ve been a blessing to the team, Jeffrey! 🤩❤️

jeffreydeanmorgan @/theboystv aw shucks… making me a tad bit weepy behind the screen. Love you guys xxx you are all awesome 😘

timotheethemoat bro thinks he’s Negan

kepsoapp1 @/timotheethemoat fr he’s always doing that lean back + laugh combo 😭 so Negan-coded

laiswqau06 @/timotheethemoat uhm maybe because he IS Negan 🤨🤨🤨

timotheethemoat @/laiswqau06 wow, I had no idea! 😱😱

jaredpadalecki ❤️

kirshnipowler jdm is so hot 😳🥵🥵

negansrealwife @/kirshnipowler he’s still got it 🤭

hiimthereallucille I didn’t think he could get any hotter… and his acting this season was phenomenal 🫣 thank you the boys for bringing jdm into this universe!

justifythat0pinion love the pic of jdm and Karl laughing together 🫠 they’re so cutie patootie

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jack_quaid ❤️ HOLY HELL I’m not ready for this crazy ride to come to an end. Never would I have thought that Hughie would become such a pivotal character in this crazy, effed up show… and furthermore, I’m blown away by the endless amounts of love that I’ve received bringing this character to the screen. Thanks to all of you who make this show so special! Let’s go out with a bang. #Season5

PS. Peep the Hughie Funko Pop! 🔥 (I lost it)

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erinelairmortiarty 2d ♥︎ by author

your honour, he needs to go on a diet — he’s devouring!

karenfukuhara 2d ♥︎ by author

missed you ❤️❤️❤️

karlurban 2d ♥︎ by author

oi, hughie 😎🍻

yourusername 2d ♥︎ by author

I stole your Funko Pop

jensenackles @/yourusername of course you did ♥︎ by author

theboystv going out with a bang indeed 🔥

hayleystyless @/theboystv y’all just love edging the fans at this point huh

jessicaheynes104 @/hayleystyless FOR REAL good god THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME

hughiecampbelllover_ give my boy hughie a happy ending!! My man has suffered enough

jhistinemkeel @/hughiecampbelllover_ I swear if he doesn’t get a happy ending I’m rioting!!

hughiecampbelllover_ @/jhistinemkeel 😤😤😤

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erinelairmoriarty who are all these baddies? My family for 5 years and counting. Let’s make Season 5 a season to remember! Well sh*t, I’m excited (and scared) but at least my skin’s clear (thanks @/indeedlabs 😘)

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karenfukuhara 2d ♥︎ by author

omg we’re cute actually

erinelairmoriarty @/karenfukuhara duh! 😉

yourusername @/karenfukuhara she ain’t stuttered 🗣️ ♥︎ by author

chacecrawford 2d ♥︎ by author

2# could’ve been us but you went and got me cancelled

erinelairmoriarty @/chacecrawford boy bye

yourusername @/chacecrawford damn the deep just got deep

randomuser9274848 @/yourusername HAHAHA

jack_quaid 2d ♥︎ by author

🍭 okay, but I did the Pops pose better!

erinelairmoriarty @/jack_quaid you did kinda slay that

anniesl0ver__ @/jack_quaid @/miekalieka0 pls they’re so cute I love them

indeedlabs 2d ♥︎ by author

clear skin queen 👸

erinelairmortiarty @/indeedlabs mwah! 🥰

theboystv 2d ♥︎ by author

✨✨ 👀

yourusername 2d ♥︎ by author

Karl looking a little too butchered as Butcher in that second last pic 😭

erinelairmortiarty @/yourusername poor old man needs a nap of the century

karlsno1fangirl @/yourusername Cmon he’s been going through the most that season, give him a break 😭😭💔💔

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toni.starr I nailed that 🏃 pose didn’t I? This old man’s still got it!

A few snaps of behind the scenes with my fellow cast members :)

Have a great day out there! Season 5 is in the works ;)

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jensenackles John, I am your father

theboystv you ready? 🤩

karlurban oi, ‘omelander ….

cameroncrovetti 😎

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lazofficial Solid life advice—don’t go to no party with -gasm in the name. Anyways, the boys is back. Let’s go!! #Season5 #theboystv #letsgo

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theboystv s5 let’s go! 💥

karlurban cheers to my partner ! saving ass time and time again 😎🍻

lazofficial @/karlurban Got your idiotic back, ma brother!

erinelairmoriarty buy a bad b*tch a free coffee 🗣️

lazofficial @/erinelairmoriarty nah I’m good

erinelairmortiarty @/lazofficial ugh you’re not living up to the mother in mother’s milk

yourusername @/erinelairmoriarty pls he can barely be a father either, took the milk in his name too literal and went absentee father

erinelairmoriarty omg y/n you didn’t 😭😭😭😭😭

lazofficial @/yourusername now thas just cold - you ain’t getting free coffee no more either. 😂

yourusername the brains behind the operations 😎 welcome back ❤️

lazofficial @/yourusername hell yeah I know that’s right

jensenackles it be your own girl that betrays you @/yourusername @/karlurban you going to let her talk smack like that?

yourusername @/jensenackles you remembered you have instagram and now suddenly you’re an ambassador? GET A LIFE and gtfo out these instagram comments 😭😭😭

karenfukuhara whoop! 🥳

jack_quaid 👯‍♂️ 7th pic stance goes hard

lazofficial @/jack_quaid Better moves than you!

dustin__103 yo they gave m.m all that milk in the 5th pic, only it wasn’t from his mother 😭🙏

unbrokeeeenpromises im so excited for this!! M.M deserves his happy ending…

holymolywhosaidthat M.M the goat 🙏🔥

benstenstands @/holymolywhosaidthat Nah butcher better

holymolywhosaidthat @/benstenstands They both badass

mmfanpagetheboys 🤩🤩🤩🤩 so so excited!

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karenfukuhara my peoples ❤️ been a crazy couple of years on the set of The Boys and in honour of the last upcoming season, I thought I’d post a few pics of the friends who’ve become like my family. Grateful to play such an awesome character like Kimiko and even MORE grateful for my film family. There’s been some stressful days since entering such a big project, but I’m thankful that they’ve always been my biggest supporters, checking up on me and always making sure I’ve got somebody to turn to for help. I hope everybody has got someone so beautiful to back their corner. Ok, I’m done being cheesy - for now. Season 5, let’s go!!

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erinelairmoriarty 3d ♥︎ by author

my blood adorned queen ❤️ so much love!

jack_quaid 3d ♥︎ by author

Hell yeah!🖖🏻❤️ to many more fun days!

yourusername 3d ♥︎ by author

been amazing watching you grow into the role 🥹❤️

karlurban 3d ♥︎ by author

Stinkin’ supe 😎❤️

toni.starr @/karlurban at least Kimiko washes her hands after a piss • 3d ♥︎ by author

randomuser10482 @toni.starr BYE homie ate him up 😭😭😭😭😭

saramary1038 @/toni.starr smelling butcher across the freaking city 😭😭😭

tomercapone 3d ♥︎ by author

mon coeur ❤️

jensenackles 3d ♥︎ by author

get it 🤟👅

lazofficial 3d ♥︎ by author

got your back, girl! 😈🥛

kimistangirllllll your smile!!!!

i.lovetheboys_. is she eating stormfront in the third pic? 🤣

leabeanstalk2948 @/i.lovetheboys_. personally I would’ve waited until she was a bit charred around the edges

i.lovetheboys_. @/leabeanstalk2948 EXCUSE ME?? 😭💔

jacksawmejensen @/leabeanstalk2948 oh that’s cold 😭😭😭😭 (as you should bc f stormfront)

kiaramallory_0 @/i.lovetheboys_. yum I love the taste of aged racism and white supremacy 😍

koappletree991 such a precious group of people ❤️

randomfangirlacc0 omg the holy trinity of Karen, Erin and Claudia 😩

paulamaloua20 @/randomfangirlacc0 and suddenly I want to be adopted specifically by 3 mothers and specifically them 3

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Liked by karlurban, jensenackles and others

yourusername The Boys and their bitches 🐶 (sorry fans)

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gibson-g1rl 2d ♥︎ by author

I CAN BARK grrr WOOF WOOF (at jensen)

jensenackles @/gibson-g1rl girl

yourusername @/gibson-g1rl girl x2 don’t make us fetch the rabies shots 😭

jacklesworld @/yourusername LMFAO

jensenackles @/yourusername I’ll get the muzzle

gibson-g1rl @/jensenackles URH yes please

karenfukuhara 1d ♥︎ by author

cute!!

justjensen101 hey (I breed high-end police dogs)

internetmasterp3ice @justjensen101 and I photograph people (hot celebrities) with their dogs

karlsl0verr193 does anybody know how to get hold of that Japanese man who built the lifelike dog suit?

yeakarlsminel0l @/karlsl0verr193 LMFAO 😭

randomuser29485829 @/karlsl0verr193 I think you’re onto something

karlsb4by im leash-trained

randonfangirl4729 OMG HOMELANDER AND THE PUPPY??? 😭❤️ my heart!

violent-darkness thank god for Karl’s thicker beard over the years 😭

startrekparadiseon3arth @/violent-darkness preach!

JosephineEmrite6 Right?! His beard is everything 😍😍😍

antonyfanpages_tm All right, where do I sign up to sit with antony and puppies!??

h0wardslife2993 starlight looking both confused and concerned in the background for the dog homelander’s touching 😂😂

homelanderlover299 @/h0wardslife2993 no bc why was he holding the dog’s tail like that ? 😭😭

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Thank you for reading! I really just had fun with this one and for some reason made Jensen such a diva in this 😭 Anyways—all likes, comments & reblogs are deeply appreciated.

Tags: @babyfri3dric3 @violent-darkness @gibson-g1rl @scrmqwn

Comment/message me to be added/removed from the taglist for any future The Boys smaus & other works!

Other works: The Boys Masterlist

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polaroidpascal · 1 year ago

Text

paradise city || joel miller

AO3 || MASTERLIST || FREE PALESTINE

pairing : guitarist!joel x f!reader

summary : when you and your friends go out to a bar to see a local band gig, you can’t help but notice how the guitarist’s eyes somehow keep finding you in the crowd.

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU, i imagine joel is in his early 40s, no age gap mentioned, mention of reader’s breakup, mentions of alcohol consumption, joel starts off a little shy but truly there ain’t nothing shy about this man, size kink (kinda?? a little bit??) oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected p in v sex, dom!joel, joel gets a little possessive (you’ll see what i mean…), praise kink, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare ofc

fic playlist : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0afpHjoOFylI01OTbV5jol

(picture joel playing during the guitar solos in every single one of these songs 😁)

WC : 7.9k… (no one look at me. not a single soul.)

a/n : 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL !! i apologize in advance for all the song lyrics i’ve scattered in this fic… i opted to make a playlist of the songs i think joel’s band would play but there were just too many good ones to pass up and i was losing it a little bit 🫠 also, shoutout to @joelsdagger for constantly yapping with me about this idea and letting me tease her about this absolute menace of a man and also @haileymorelikestupid for beta reading for me 🥹😭 it feels extremely fitting to post a joel fic on international women’s day where he fucks you so good, so i hope y’all enjoy !! <3

You and your friends have had a week.

Deciding you all needed a night to let loose and have fun together, your friend Erica found out about this place hosting a local rock cover band called Fetters Whiskey and thought it might be nice to come see them.

Earlier, you had all piled into the Uber and were headed out, a low girly chatter filling the car. The three in the back harped on about their spouses and all the little things that annoyed them.

“He left the dishes in the drying rack!” “She helped me clean a little too well and used all the cleaner, now we’re all out!”

The complaining did help them destress a bit.

You and Erica were in the second row captain’s chairs of the car, the three in the back doing their pregame de-stressing. “Makes you rethink the whole marriage fantasy, huh?” she jokes, looking over at you playing with the rings on your fingers.

You look up and breathe a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so,” you say with a weak smile.

“Well… have you had any luck finding anyone?” she asks sweetly, sincerely. Genuinely hoping someone has caught your eye.

You had a pretty nasty breakup a while ago, probably about eight months by now. You two had been dating for a while and the breakup honestly seemed to come out of nowhere, like some switch flipped one day and nothing was really the same. Your friends stuck by you through every up and down you had. You felt really lucky to have them.

“No. not yet,” you tell her.

“Well, maybe tonight’s your night,” she says with a friendly smile. “You deserve to unwind and let loose a little, y’know what I mean?” You breathe another laugh. “You do!” she exclaims, hitting your shoulder.

“Yeah, well, I guess we’ll see,” you say, the rest of the car ride seeming to fly by, a part of you kinda hoping she’s right.

The bar is crowded.

You walk in, snaking the group between the crowd and making your way near the stage towards the back of the bar, men and women alike all brushing bodies the closer you get to the stage, drinks in hand, friends chattering away, everyone waiting for the show.

Two of your coworkers disappear to fetch everyone a drink while you and the others stake claim on a little area near the stage. A couple of guys are on the stage setting up the instruments and making sure everything is plugged in right, the lights dimmed enough to not really draw much attention to them. It’s not long before the others join them on stage and start playing. The girls return just in time, handing out the drinks as the music starts.

The band is pretty good (you’re not sure what you were expecting, but you’re more than pleased with how good they sound). They play some fan favorites like Wanted Dead or Alive and I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll, and they mix in some random fun songs like Play That Funky Music.

The drummer is clearly in his own world, head moving at a velocity you would think could give him whiplash. And he’s absolutely killing it, hitting every beat with fervor. You can feel the strikes of the sticks on his drums in the center of your chest.

Another guy seems to be the swiss army knife musician: pretty good at almost everything, filling in wherever he’s needed depending on the song. One minute, he’s playing his keyboard and the next, he’s busting out a trumpet, and the next, he’s busting out a guitar. And no matter what he’s playing, he’s playing it with passion.

The lead singer clearly loves all of the attention he gets. He’s feeding off the crowd’s energy like a cat lounging in the sunlight, basking in every cheer and whistle and fist pumping in the air from the crowd. He practically lives at the edge of the stage, crouching down to sing with the girls but backing up to sing and dance with his bandmates too, bringing them in on some of the harmonies and tying the whole show together.

But by far the unsung hero of this group is the lead guitarist. He hides off to the corner, leg posted up on his amp with the body of his guitar resting slightly on his thigh. He looks down at the instrument carefully watching his fingers strum each cord perfectly, furrowing his brow in concentration during his solos and lifting his head up to the sky. He looks like he feels every note in his blood, expressing it through the expert strum of his fingertips on the strings. He doesn’t have a mic and the singer doesn’t make him sing alongside him very much, but you catch him mouthing all the words and getting into the singing as well.

He’s a particularly pretty man and your eyes linger on him more than the others, always finding their way back to him, and always during the more raunchy lines of the different songs…

Well, I am imagining // A dark lit place // Or your place on my place

I’ma paint his town red // Then paint his wife white

But I got both hands on the wheel while you got both hands on my gears // By now, no doubt we’re heading south // I guess nobody ever taught her not to speak with a full mouth

…but who can blame you when he has such a reserved, cool vibe. Plus, did you mention that he’s really pretty too?

And maybe it’s the couple of drinks getting to you more than you thought, or maybe you’re just crazy, but it seems like every time you look at him, he’s looking away from you. Like he’d been staring and you caught him. You swear he starts to look ever so slightly more flushed, but it’s practically impossible to see with the colored lights flooding the scene. No, you think, that’s crazy. You’re standing in a crowd of people, there’s no way he—

“Hey, I think the guy on lead guitar keeps checking you out!” Erica exclaims over the loud music and singing crowd.

You turn and look at her, eyebrows raised before you turn back to the stage. He does it again, averting his gaze the second he sees you look and you feel a flutter in your chest. He really is checking me out, huh?

You keep staring at him, waiting for him to look back in hopes that you’re looking away. When he lets his eyes wander back to you, you’re still staring. This time, though, he doesn’t look away. His eyes won’t let him now that you’ve caught his attention — like a fly in a spider web.

He turns his body ever so slightly, facing your direction more than anyone else as he plays the rest of the song. The lights focus on him, colorful spotlights of red and blue illuminating his face as he positively shreds his guitar solo. His fingers expertly tap dance across the neck of his guitar, his other hand working double time to strum on beat and hit every single note. You watch in a complete daze as he finishes, sealing off his musical escapade with the smuggest wink right to you.

He put on a show. All just for you.

Something stirs in your belly, a low heat kindling as the band continues to play. Their next song — god, their next song… — really puts the icing on the cake.

The jack of all trades band member busts out a sound board, the sampled sound of a snare drum filling the space, a warped, funky-sounding instrumental following.

You let me violate you // You let me desecrate you // You let me penetrate you // You let me complicate you

The guitarist shares a mic with the guy on the sound board, offering back-up vocals for the song. He’s getting a little bold now, you think.

I broke apart my insides // (Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell // (Help me) the only thing that works for me // Help me get away from myself

He’s locked eyes with you the whole time, changing the tides of who is winning this staring battle for dominance. Each second his gaze stays on you, you feel smaller and smaller, completely at his mercy. He backs away from the mic, preparing to play and licking his lips in a manner obviously made to make you even dizzier than you already are.

I wanna fuck you like an animal // I wanna feel you from the inside // I wanna fuck you like an animal // My whole existence is flawed // You get me closer to God

He glances back at you from his guitar, a smirk decorating his face before he turns to keep playing the song. You’re in a complete daze. He’s clearly won this battle, and you don’t even know what to do with yourself anymore.

You have to have this man.

Erica caught a some of his little show for you, watching him wink at you and the way your features fell to a focused stare at him. “Girl, get a room next time!” she teases and all you can do is smile back.

When the set is over, you and your friends walk back towards the bar, not wanting to leave just yet. You claim a few of the tiny standing tables, again gathered with Erica at one while the other girls try to cluster around another.

“So…” she starts, giving you a look of anticipation.

“So…?”

“What the hell was going on between you and that guitarist?” she asks, her tone of voice high with excitement.

You laugh, looking down and shrugging your shoulders. “I honestly have no idea,” you say, shaking your head and blushing a little thinking about his little performance. “I thought I was crazy until you said something.”

“Well, whatever it was, you should go for him!” she encourages.

“Please,” you scoff and laugh, “you’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m serious! While you were having your little… whatever you were having, I was watching the whole band, and the other guys weren’t doing what he did. And he didn’t look at anyone else the way he looked at you.”

You stare at her, a blush creeping up on your cheeks and that small fire in your belly growing a little bigger, a little hotter.

Erica looks up over your shoulder, “Oh my gosh, there they are!”

As if on cue, the band walks through one of the back doors. Having just put away their instruments and whatever other equipment they brought. They saunter in, hair wet from the sweat of performing and lifting all their stuff back into their van. Trailing behind the rest is that damn guitarist. He scans the crowd before he sees you, his expression opening with a bit of an urgency as he quickly finds the bar to grab a beer.

You turn back to Erica, mouth dry and nervous. “Please, you have to go talk to him,” she practically begs.

“No, I- I can’t. I don’t even know what to say,” you plead. “I’m so out of practice.”

“Oh, quit it. I saw you looking at him first. You had him going before he got bold with you. You still have game, go get that man!” she says.

“I don’t know, Erica—” you start, but youre quickly caught off by a tap to your shoulder. You turn around and it’s him.

“Hi,” you say, desperately trying to hide the nerves threatening your vocal chords and smile genuinely at him.

“Hi there,” he says. God, his voice is so deep. You couldn’t hear it in all of its beauty before, but it has a bass to it that rumbles in your bones.

You stare blankly at him for a second before you finally pipe up, “Um, that was a good set you guys played.”

“Thank you,” he chuckles, looking down at his beer and leaning against the edge of the table.

Erica watches with wide eyes before announcing, “Well, I’m empty. I’m gonna go get a refill, okay?” She winks as she walks away leaving you and this mysterious guitarist alone together.

You turn your gaze back to him and fully take in his features now. His eyes have their own glow to them that persists even with the dim stage lights littered around this bar. His hair is patchy from sweat but still sits pretty. His strong features demand your eyes and you’re unable to look anywhere but him.

He extends his hand out to you, “Name’s Joel.”

“Hi, Joel,” you say, shaking his hand and telling him your name. He echoes it and it sounds beautiful off his tongue. “Listen, I--”

“Y’know, you’ve got one of those faces that stands out in a crowd, anyone ever told you that?”

You shake your head, “No, not necessarily.”

“Well trust me, we’ve played our share of shows and none of them had a pretty girl like you in the audience catchin’ my eye every two seconds.”

You blush, starting to gather your mind back from the sudden thrust into a conversation with who you think might be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life now that you’ve had time to really study his features up close. “You’re no different yourself,” you offer.

“How so?”

“I’m just saying, you’d think the prettiest member would be the one front and center, not tucked in a corner by an amp.”

His eyes bounce back and forth between your own not breaking contact as he takes another sip of his beer. “I don’t want just anyone lookin’ my way, I guess. You gotta work to see this pretty face.”

“Pretty, indeed,” you agree, stepping ever so slightly closer to him. “You put on quite a show up there.”

He leans down just a bit, closing the gap between the two of you even more, “Well, I did have quite the eager audience, didn’t I?” he asks.

You stare at each other for a moment before Joel starts, never breaking eye contact, “Listen, I don’t really do this… but I also don’t get distracted like I did tonight…”

You inch closer to him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah… your friends bring you here?” he asks and you glance at the other table where Erica lingers around your other friends and they’re all looking your way, trying not to be obvious and failing miserably.

“No, we took an Uber.”

“Well, what do you say to savin’ that money you’d pay for an Uber and lettin’ me take you home instead?”

Am I really gonna do this?, you think. Call it a gut feeling or whatever you may want, but the way Joel is looking at you, the way he put on a show just for you, how he spotted you in the crowd to strike up a conversation… Erica did say I need to unwind and let loose…

You grin back at him, “Whose home are we talking about?” you ask.

“I think you know, darlin’,” his tone drops low and deep.

A shiver runs up your spine, that ever-growing fire in your belly burning hotter and hotter. “Come on,” he says, taking your hand in his, making it look miniscule in comparison, and walks you towards the back door he came through earlier. You glance back to the bar, the girls still watching and Erica flashing you a smile and a thumb’s up.

Joel leads you to his truck, opening the passenger door for you. You see the backseat loaded with what must be his personal equipment before his door creaks open and he sits inside, the whole truck bobbing from the sheer size of this man.

He pulls you closer across the bench seat until your legs are touching, his hand snaking around your waist as you relax against his figure and his hands trace your sides.

“I meant what I said, y’know. That you stand out in a crowd.”

You turn to look at him as he quickly glances at you and you slowly bring your arms up, one landing behind his neck while the other cups his face. You slowly, softly, tenderly kiss the spot where his jaw meets his neck leaving open mouth kisses all over. He tilts his head to the side just a little, humming at the feeling and settling his hand right at the swell of your hip, pulling you even closer into his side and squeezing just a bit.

The drive isn’t long at all. He pulls into a parking spot lining the side of the road and once the car is safely in park, he grabs your face with both hands, kissing you deeply. You hum into his mouth, not expecting the sudden movement, and melt into his lips. His soft, warm lips. Your hands trace his body, the two of you unable to get where you want to be from sitting in this truck.

You pull away from him. “Take me inside.”

He immediately leaves the truck urging you to hop out on his side, offering a hand to help you out but not letting go even typing the code for his apartment and after you walk through the door.

You giggle as he pulls you up the stairs of his complex, the two of you itching to have your hands all over one another. You reach the top and he twirls you around in his grip, grabbing you with one hand by the hip and the other cradling the back of your head. He kisses you with an insatiable hunger, like his life absolutely depends on it, as he backs you up until you’re pinned to the door with his entire body pressed against you.

He fumbles with his keys for the lock to his apartment door, lips locked onto you, eyes closed, lost in the soft sweetness of your lips. He snakes a hand behind the curve of your back to brace you as the door swings open and he pushes you inside.

Your hands tangle in his hair grabbing the soft, damp strands unable to pull him any closer but wanting every inch of him in your mouth, on your lips, practically in your skin. You bite his lower lip making him moan a little into your mouth and your hands reach around to his face, wanting to stay lost in the ocean of his tongue and cheeks forever.

He pulls you back and you whine, already missing the warmth and taste of his tongue, but your disappointment is short lived. “God, darlin’… Need to have you.” he says, voice low and completely feral as he grabs you under the swell of your ass and you jump into his embrace. Your hands wander back up to his hair, pulling and grabbing as he trails his kisses down your chin, your jaw, your neck, soft sounds escaping his lips with every tug and whimper you give him.

His legs mindlessly take him to his bedroom, knowing the pathway instinctively. His mouth leaves your body for just a moment when plops you down at the edge of the bed, but he’s right back on you in an instant, reaching down to the hem of your top. You lift your arms for him to pull it off and he removes it in one fluid motion. He moves his hands to the clasp of your bra next. “This okay?”

Your chest aches with these little moments of tender sweetness from him and you nod, letting him remove your bra and he does so with skill, not fumbling for even a second as he tosses it to the floor.

His eyes immediately dart down, taking you in. He’s all but drooling, his gaze burning hot against your skin. He sinks to his knees taking one tit in his mouth and sucking on your nipple. Your hands immediately run through his hair holding him onto you and humming at the feel of his mouth on you. His other hand grabs your other tit, massaging it and thumbing your growing bud before redirecting his mouth to the other side too.

His hands drop to your sides and run up along your ribcage trailing towards your back, closing you in and burying his face into your neck peppering kisses and licks and nips there.

“I gotta have you, baby…” he mutters into your neck. “Lay back on my pillows up there.”

You do as you’re told, lounging against his pillows and the headboard of the bed as he pulls his shirt off over his head and crawls up to meet you, hooking his hands in the belt loops of your jeans. He looks up, his gaze silently asking for permission and you nod. He pulls them down along with your panties in one smooth motion.

You didn’t think about how worked up you had gotten until your hot core, slick with your arousal, meets the cool air of the room sending a chill across your skin. You watch as Joel’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of you, subconsciously licking his lips and softly grunting at the thought of diving in.

You open your legs wider, inviting him in and he settles between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs locking you right where he wants you, all spread and open for him.

He immediately gets to work, unable to hold back anymore and expertly licks through your folds. His warm, wet tongue feels amazing on you as it dances across every nerve ending down there, each one sending fireworks across your skin. You whine and lean back, lifting your hips up to meet his mouth and squirming under his face.

His hands gently rub your thighs while he drinks you down, his nose occasionally hitting your clit making you whine. He draws flattened circles with his tongue, the surface area hitting you just right.

“Yes… fuck yes, that feels so good…” you moan.

He moans back, unwilling to leave you for even a moment and he keeps going. One hand falls from your thigh and you keep yourself open for him as best as you can when you feel his thick, calloused fingers teasing your entrance. He slides his middle finger in easily, so he adds his ring finger too, curling up and finding the softest parts of you. But God, are his fingers huge.

Your walls constrict squeezing his fingers and you leak more slick all over his palm. His other fingers flay across your lips and ass, gripping you slightly and he’s got you locked down.

His tongue continues at your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, the tips curling up and stroking you perfectly.

“Right there, Joel… right there… don’t stop… please, don’t stop…” You feel yourself getting closer and closer, the flame burning in your belly all night erupting into a wildfire and igniting every inch of your skin. You feel a tightness start to grow in your belly, inching down your insides as he keeps going, and going, and going, never letting up and reveling in each twitch of your body.

You look up and see him lying flat, his hips subconsciously moving against his boxers and jeans and sheets, getting himself off just from your taste. Finally, he opens his eyes, dark with lust and locks his gaze with you with one especially deep push and curl of his fingers and another wink. That fucking wink.

“Fuck… fuck…!” It sends you over the edge. The coil snaps and a warm flood fills your body spilling out onto Joel’s hand and into his waiting mouth. He grunts and whines, his tongue never stopping, not even for a second, as he drinks every ounce of your slick getting drunk on your juices.

He only pulls away when you pull him off by his hair, a single line if your arousal still connecting him to you and a groan leaving his lips as he lets you go. You fall back onto the pillow, legs collapsing from their own weight and twitching from your orgasm, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Joel sits up licking his palm and bringing his fingers up to your mouth, jaw slacked and panting. Your mouth closes around his fingers and he groans, “That’s it, good girl,” he coos and you hum around his digits.

When you fully come back down to Earth, you can’t help but chuckle in the afterglow of your orgasm. Joel rests on his heels gently stroking your knees and you cover your eyes with your forearm, one big sigh leaving your lips. “I guess I should have expected a guitar player to have some skilled fingers,” you joke and Joel chuckles. “That was so fucking good.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not done with you just yet, pretty girl,” Joel teases, holding out his hand to help you sit up. You do and he meets you with a sweet kiss, his hands cupping almost all of your face as he kisses you sweetly.

When he pulls away and you open your eyes, you notice another amp sitting in the corner of the room. This one looks old, unused, and the cable management could use some work, to say the least.

Joel follows your eyeline. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“That’s a lot of cables for a little speaker like that,” you say, following the tangled mess of wires scattered on the floor. “Why don’t you use that one?”

“Jus’ got old. Bought a new one and I didnt need it anymore.”

A depraved idea pops in your head and the question leaves your lips before you can even fully think it through. “Those wires… how strong do you think they are?”

Joel looks back at your face, eyebrow cocked up slightly, “What d'ya mean?”

Your bashfulness catches up quick, a shy blush pricking your cheeks. “I mean… just the outside looks braided, almost… it kinda looks like… I don’t know, kinda like a rope…”

His face softens, a look of intrigue spreading across his gaze. “Go on,” he says, his voice dropping impossibly low, dripping with sultry tease.

You look up through your lashes feeling more vulnerable that you have to ask specifically (he seems to love it, though). “Well… I guess, how well do you think they’d hold a knot…?”

He bites back a smirk but can’t quite hide his excitement. “Kinky…” he says with a little nod. “I like it.”

He rises from the bed but he doesn’t turn to grab the wires. Instead, he reaches for his belt, the buckle clinking against itself. “But you gotta earn it first, sweet girl.” He pulls his belt out of the loops of his jeans and tosses it to the side.

He pauses a second before reaching for the button and zipper, enough time for you to crawl to the foot of the bed and rest your hands on his. You slowly move them away and take over, undoing his button and slowly zipping his pants apart.

You reach under his groin cupping his covered balls in your hand and he hums. He barely fits in your palm and you salivate at what could be beneath those boxers of his. You look up at him with another gentle squeeze before pulling both down, his cock springing out and up against his lower tummy as he steps out of his pants, the tip already red and leaking.

Your eyes widen when you really take in his size and you salivate. You wrap your hand around him and very slowly pump his length, getting a feel for his size and weight and staring at him the whole time.

He looks down at you, eyes still dark and mouth slightly open. “Go ‘head, baby. Kiss it.”

You feel a flutter in your belly again already and you do as he says, kissing the slit before taking the whole head into your mouth and circling your tongue around it. His eyes roll back and he lifts his head up to the ceiling with a groan, his hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head.

You slowly take him inch by inch making him slick with your spit and using your hand to pump whatever you cant reach. Your other hand gently squeezes his balls and you feel his grip on your hair tighten a bit.

“That’s it, baby… Mouth feels so good f’me…” He starts to slowly push you down his length, taking him deeper and deeper and being careful not to get ahead of himself.

But then you moan around his length sending lightning up his spine and it feels so fucking good… A guttural groan booms from his chest and he starts to slip, pushing you a little too far a little too fast and you gag, pulling off until it just rests on your bottom lip, spit gathering at his tip and spilling over the corners of your mouth.

Tears prick the sides of your eyes and his hand reaches down to wipe them away. “Shit— I’m sorry… are you alright?”

You cough and catch your breath, something new and hot burning through your veins. Something about the way he lost all control… “It’s okay, I’m okay,” you say when you pull yourself together a little bit. You wipe the corners of your mouth and reach up to slowly pump his length again. “Let me try again.”

“You sure, darlin’?”

“I’m sure,” you say, looking up through your tear-soaked lashes, a small smile ghosting your lips as you nod.

He nods back and you take him in your mouth again, closing your eyes and breathing through it, trying to focus on taking as much of him down your throat as you can.

His hands find the back of your head again, not pushing anymore but tangling through your hair as you work.

He looks down and sees your eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration and taking him so well. He drops a hand back down to your jaw, “Eyes on me, gorgeous.”

You carefully open your eyes to look up at him and when you do, his brows furrow with desperation, unable to look away from you as you bob up and down his length, hands once again pumping the length you can’t reach and massaging his balls.

“Shit, baby… that’s it…” he moans, watching the way your cheeks hollow and lips flush red from taking him. He’s twitching in your mouth and you think you’ve got him, flattening your tongue when he touches the back of your throat and swirling up his length as you pull back.

His abs start to tighten and you taste the slightly salty precum leaking from his tip. You work up the nerve to suppress your gag reflex as best you can, taking a few deep breathes before pushing yourself all the way down, taking his cock up to the hilt.

You stay there, letting your protesting throat constrict around him and he whines, his hand in your hair tightening and making you moan, another bolt of lightning taking over his entire being. His cock jumps in your throat and you think he’s a goner for sure—

He pulls you off his length completely and you gasp for air while he catches his breath too. “Nuh uh, baby. It can’t be over yet,” he says breathlessly.

You pout up at him, your doe eyes almost black from how blown your pupils are.

“Get back on the bed,” he demands.

So you do, rising a little wobbly from your knees and crawling back up onto the bed. Joel walks to the corner of the room and unplugs some of the cords plugged into the old amp.

He digs around in his nightstand and pulls out a condom before walking back over to the bed where you’re kneeling on the mattress. He sees you eyeing the little packet pinched between his fingers. “What’s th’ matter?”

You look at him, a blush forming on your face. “Oh, I…” Your mouth goes dry and you clear your throat. “…um, you don’t— I mean, I’m on the pill so, um… If you don’t wanna…” you ramble, trying to find your words but failing in your shyness.

He smiles smugly, tossing the condom to the side. “’S okay. I hear you loud and clear.”

You take a relieved breath and watch him stand there as he starts separating the wires. He twirls his finger in the air and you turn your body to face away from him.

“Gimme your hands, darling,” he says, firmly but gently.

You obey, reaching your hands behind your back. His giant hand easily fits both in one grip and he wraps one cable around your wrists.

You can’t help but smile to yourself, facing away from Joel so he can’t see, but you’re sure it’s audibly obvious when you ask “So this must be where the band name came from then, hm?” as he ties a comfortable knot around your wrists.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Fetters. Like restraints. Usually they’re on the ankles but I guess it’s the same principle.”

He breathes a laugh. “I mean, I didn’t help with the name all that much, but I guess ya’ really do learn somethin’ new every day,” he says just as he tightens the loose, but still restrictive, knot around your wrists.

You shimmy in them a little, surprised at how well they hold together. His hands are still there, rubbing over the covering of the cords and brushing against the warmth of your skin.

“These look real pretty on you, y’know,” he mutters from behind you.

You chuckle and ask, “You tell all the groupies that?”

He grabs your chin to face him, eyes scanning over your face for a second and planting a kiss to your lips before a positively devious smirk spreads across his face. Before you know it, he puts his hand on your back gently pushing down so your chest hits the bed.

“No, I don’t,” he says and you hear his footsteps fade. You sit there, face pressed against the mattress and ass in the air, desperately trying to crane your neck to see where in the world he’s going leaving you like this, all out in the open and exposed.

He treads back into the room and climbs back onto the bed right behind you, calves brushing up against the inside of your own as he grabs your hips to straighten them.

“I don’t tell the groupies nothin’,” he starts. “Usually jus’ ask if they want an autograph.”

The unmistakable click of a Sharpie cap rings in your ears and you feel the cold tip of the pen dragging along the skin right below the small of your back. You gasp, surprised at the unexpected feeling, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man, and you can’t help the butterflies it gives you, the way you mewl so quietly at the thought of him marking you with his name — his signature, no less — in such an intimate place.

You need to find a way to keep this man.

The pen trails off at the end and he recaps the marker, tossing it somewhere to the side before you feel his hands smoothing over your hips. He lets out a low toned, one-note whistle at you, staring at the dark ink branding your lower back. “Now, what a pretty view I have,” he says, a tantalizing, saccharine sweet tone lacing his words.

You can’t hold back the whimper that falls from your mouth at his teasing, his big warm hands rubbing big circles over each cheek.

He sees you clenching around nothing. “Want me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”

“Yes, please,” you whine, earning you a light tap on your ass.

He pulls on the cords and wraps an arm around your torso, bringing you up flush to his torso and reaching a hand to your mouth. “Gimme some help.”

You spit into his hand and he hums in content. “Atta girl,” he says, gently laying you back down and pumping his length with the wetness. You feel the tip of his cock rub against your folds and you squirm. He grabs your hip with his free hand as he lines himself up to notch right at your entrance. He slowly pushes just the tip in, the pressure making you moan.

“I gotcha, baby. Jus’ relax f’me,” he coos, pushing inch by inch into you letting you adjust to his size. Your walls twitch at the intrusion and your breathing gets heavier, soft sounds escaping your lips. Eventually, he’s up to the hilt and you swear you can feel him in your lungs. You subconsciously swirl your hips, the movement inside making you whine.

“Shit, baby… so fuckin’ tight…” Joel breathes, squeezing your hips and trying not to lose his cool too quickly. His cock bounces and he grunts, taking a minute before slowly pulling out of you as you whine at the loss. It’s short lived, though, because he’s immediately pushing back into you, the stretch and burn pulling a desperate groan from your throat.

“Fuck yeah, baby. You like how that feels?” he moans, picking up the pace slightly with each thrust.

“Yes— fuck, feels so good…” you moan. The way his cock drags along your walls makes your belly burn hot. His grip on your hips tight and threatening to bruise if he squeezes any harder, but you couldn’t care less. Just another way for him to mark you as his.

“Squeezin’ my cock so good… she’s achin’, baby…” He’s very talkative, you think and decide to play into it.

“She’s all yours, Joel. Pussy belongs to you,” you say as you squeeze him again, the pressure in your belly growing with each gentle kiss to your cervix that his tip gives you.

You feel his pace falter for a second, his grip tightening at that. “Yeah? Say it again. Who’s she belong to?” he says, pounding into you now, unable to keep control of his pace anymore.

You whine loudly with one of his thrusts when he drags up a bit hitting something new inside of you, something your ex surely hadn’t ever found before. Something you definitely had on your own but never this deep…

“Theeere it is,” he coos, pressing your torso down some more to get the angle just right and he’s hitting that soft, spongy part of you with every snap of his hips. You can barely form the words to tell him how fucking good it feels, nonsense whimpers leaving your mouth instead.

“Answer me, baby… Belongs to who?” His pace doesn’t let up and you can’t get the words out. “C’mon, you can do it, gorgeous… tell me…” he insists, slowly rubbing his hand across his own signature that’s been staring back at him.

“Sh… fuck, oh my god… she belongs to you, Joel…”

“That’s my good girl,” he says, leaning down and planting kisses down your spine, snaking a hand around to your front and circling your clit.

You cry out in pleasure, all the sensations getting to be too much. A flood of wetness spills out with a twitch of your insides making Joel’s cock slippery, letting him push in and pull out easier than before. He picks up his pace again with ease, rapidly hurdling you towards the edge.

My good girl…

That one little word finally hits you after a minute.

My.

His unrelenting fingers on your clit… the way his tip hits your cervix with every snap of his hips… my good girl… it’s all too much. “Fuck… fuck… fuck, ‘mgonnacome…” you mumble in a high pitched whine.

“Fuck yes, baby… come all over my cock, that’s it… feels so fuckin’ good, darlin’…” he moans from behind you, the grip on your hips definitely bruising now as he keeps pounding into you. Your back arches and your whole body writhes as your walls squeeze him impossibly tight. Your vision blurs and you have no control over the downright pornographic sounds escaping your mouth. All you feel is warmth everywhere.

“Holy shit—” you hear Joel but he sounds far away, your head still spinning with pleasure. “Fuckin’ hell, baby…” When you feel like you can finally see again, you see a wet spot on the bed and your eyes go wide, quickly craning your head around as best you can and see Joel’s thighs soaked from you.

“Oh, shit— I-I’m sorry, oh my fucking god, I didn’t meant—” you stop mid sentence when Joel plows into you again bottoming out completely, your words trailing off into a wailing moan.

He drags out slowly but quickly regains his momentum. “Fuck, baby… Chokin’ my dick so good… So. Fucking. Hot,” he says, punctuating his words with the slap of his hips on your ass.

Your legs start to give out under you and it’s like Joel already knows you’re almost too gone to take anymore as he unties the knot at your wrists, your arms falling to the bed. He flips you over, managing to stay inside, and lays you on your back. Your hair lays messily on the pillow and Joel leans down to fix it, tracing his fingers along the side of your face and kissing you deeply.

When he pulls away, he stares at your fucked-out eyes, his own completely taken over by his pupils so much that you can barely tell what color they actually are anymore. “Baby, you gotta give me one more…” he begs.

You raise your eyebrows worriedly, unsure if you can actually take anymore. You whine at his ask and he gives you another quick kiss, resting his forehead against your own when he pulls away, your lips barely touching. He’s moving in and out of you at a snail’s pace, so close to his own orgasm that any extra movement would cause him to snap. “Please, baby, I know you can do it. Doin’ so good for me already, just one more…”

You nod weakly and stare through hooded eyes. “Thank you, angel,” he sighs, gently fucking into you a little quicker and peppering kisses at the corners of your mouth. Your hands trail up to his shoulders rubbing up and down on his soft skin. Forehead pressed to yours again, you feel him panting, small moans and whimpers filling your ears.

“Feel so good…” you use all your strength to whimper out, barely above a whisper. His eyes open, brows furrowed in desperation. You feel him twitching hard now, so close to his own orgasm but not wanting this to end.

“S’good, Joel… so big…” He whimpers at your words, his hips moving erratically, unpredictably. He’s close, you think. And it eggs you on.

“Want you to come for me… Please…”

“Yeah? You want it?” he breathes.

“Please…” you say again in a whimper, grabbing his face in your hands.

“Where, baby? Want it inside?”

“Yes, inside… please, please, please…” you beg.

“Come with me baby… wanna feel you squeezin’ me… fuck— c-can you do that?”

You whine and nod, having been teetering on the edge of overstimulation with another orgasm growing in your belly. You roll your hips slightly into him, the extra movement sending shivers down your spine.

“So close, baby, I can feel it… ‘s right there, she’s chokin’ me…” he grunts out, painfully holding back his own until you come undone under him again.

Which doesn’t take long, a flutter of your heart and one big wave of arousal covering you from head to toe making you see stars. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, unable to even make a sound as you come on his length all over again.

“Fuck… fuck… good girl, ‘m gonna come—”

Joel’s breathing quickens, becoming ragged and broken as he grunts and whines and spills inside of you. His lips press to your forehead suppressing his noises with kisses there as he empties himself inside of you, filling you up completely.

Your hands scrape his back at his shoulders, your senses all blurring into one another. Joel’s weight falls on top of you as he moves his kisses down from your forehead to your nose and finally to your lips, his tongue licking into you as you feel his cock finally stop twitching. He sits back to pull out of you watching as his cum leaks out of you. You whine at the loss feeling empty but still so full from him, shivering as you feel it dripping down your body.

Joel wipes his sweat-ridden brow and sighs with a goofy smile as he looks down at you. Your body is still jolting from your last orgasm. Any more and you would have been overstimulated beyond belief.

“Now that I definitely don’t do with the groupies, sweetheart,” he teases.

You give him a playful glare and chuckle at him. “What about all that autograph nonsense, then?”

“Well, you got the first of its kind. Never signed anyone there before.”

You blush and stretch a little, suddenly feeling that damp spot from earlier. You sit up in panic and sit back leaning against his pillows again. “Shit, Joel. I’m so sorry. That’s never happened before, I—”

“Stop,” he cuts you off. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. Sheets can be washed.”

“But I made a mess—”

“C’mere, baby,” he says, extending a hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you towards him, both of you on your knees facing each other as his arm snakes around your torso pulling you even closer into him. “‘M gonna get you cleaned up, ‘kay? Got a spare bedroom we can use anyway.”

You stare into his eyes, his words bouncing around in your head. We can use. “We?” you ask.

He scrunches his eyebrows, raising one at you. “What, you wanna run away already? Was it that bad?” he jokes.

“Oh, quit,” you say, playfully hitting his shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, standing up at the end of the bed and holding his arms out to you. “C’mon, pretty girl, how’s a warm bath sound, hm?”

“Sounds amazing, actually.” You grab his hands and stand up, taking a second to get your balance before following Joel to the bathroom.

When you’re all cleaned up, you walk into his living room wearing one of his t-shirts, a pair of his boxers, and some very oversized socks that he left in the bathroom for you to change into, towel drying the rest of your hair so it's not dripping everywhere. He sits on his couch, fresh pajamas on and dampened hair from the shower he took in the other smaller bathroom.

He taps the space next to him inviting you to sit, TV on and low, playing some random movie he found to fill the silence around him while waiting for you. You curl up into him, you warm from your bath and him warm from relaxing. He squeezes you close, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

Erica was right. You really did need this. Maybe it's stupid that you're growing so fond of this guy and you've known him for just a night, but there really is something about him. Something you can't quite explain...

You spend the rest of the night curled up next to Joel, your entire being content and you can only think one thing:

You’re not letting this one go easily. This one’s gonna be yours.

All yours.

a/n : thank y'all again so much for 100 followers, it means so much seriously 💜🫶🥹 and thank you for reading this fic that absolutely got away from me in the end, this idea tortured me for weeks and hopefully letting him out into the world will give me some peace finally 😭 but really, thank you guys so much and i hope everyone enjoys !!

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azelmawrites · 9 months ago

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ive missed you!! :(( I’m so glad you’re thinking abt hange again— might I suggest cowboy/horse rancher hange

I missed the blog and writing and most importantly everyone who was helping me develop the concepts or giving me new ideas to talk about, I missed y’all even more!!! ALSO Hange as a cowboy has my heart. Y’all know what cowboys do to me but HANGE as a cowboy???!!! I remember before I talked about farmhand Hange and rich daughter which was a great concept but this time I wanna lean more into a slightly cliche concept. City girl with the sweet and kind cowboy.

You’re a modern city girl, you’re a fresh university graduate and still clutching onto your hot degree. Your aunt is in need of company and you’re in a desperate need of a break after the hectic life of the city. At least that’s what Hange’s been told by your aunt on one fine Saturday afternoon.

Your aunt’s been very ecstatic about having you around, Hange couldn’t hear the end of it—not like they were complaining or anything, your aunt is a lovely woman and they were glad that the lonely woman would finally have company and someone to look after her when needed, especially after the night your aunt fell on the way back from the bathroom.

Hange didn’t really have any expectations of you, just that you were some fancy city girl with your cool university degree and your cool city life. It’s not like Hange had any hatred for city folk, but they didn’t particularly have the best experiences with them.

They’re all obnoxious and stuck up. With no manners whatsoever.

It was on a hot Tuesday afternoon that your aunt picked up your call, and she drowned you with questions of worry at you being very late to your supposed arrival time. Hange’s mild curiosity is quenched when your aunt says, “Sweet suffering jesus! You stay right there sweetie, don’t you worry! I will send Hange to fetch you right now!”

Then the woman turns to look at Hange and explains, “her car broke down on the way to town, thankfully she is right by the highway leading here—but bad news is that she barely has signal and no one ever comes to this god forsaken town so no one would be able to rescue her—” she’s hyperventilating and Hange places their two hands on her shoulder and calm her down.

“It’s okay, I will find her and go get her fast.” Hange doesn’t even wait for one more second to hear your aunt crying words of gratitude.

When Hange reaches you in their red beat up ford truck, they were taken back at the sight of you.

You were outside your car, leaning against the hood in your tiny jean shorts and equally tiny white tank top, sunglasses on your eyes and your feet clad in brown cowboy boots. It looked like a textbook outfit that you would find if you looked up what to wear in the countryside.

Except people in town don’t actually wear that, none of the women in town wear things like that.

You push yourself away from your car when you Hange exits their car. They can’t see your eyes, but you smile and introduce yourself. Hange shakes your hand, slightly surprised that someone from the city was actually polite to smile and shake hands and introduce themselves.

This had to be the first time it ever happened to them.

“Thank you for coming all this way to get me,” you say and head to open the driver’s door to pop open the hood as you explain, “I think it just needs water honestly, because it overheated and the ac wasn’t working that well before it stopped.”

When Hange took a quick look, your words were true. It was an issue with the coolant water, and it could’ve been solved in five minutes but they doubt a pretty thing like you knew how a car even works.

They wanted to affirm your theory, but it would mean that they could solve it in less than five minutes and you would drive yourself back to your aunt’s house and some other man would lay their eyes on you and want you immediately, and what’s worse you might want them back too.

So, Hange lied, and they didn’t really feel bad about it. “No, the wire for the radiator is pretty messed up too, we need to tow your car.”

Your face blanched, “really?”

“Really.” Hange affirmed, shutting the hood and seeing the luggage on your back seats, “I’ll just drive you to your aunt myself.”

As you stood by your car, Hange strolled over to your backseat without a word and started grabbing your luggage. You opened your mouth to protest but quickly realized there was no point—they were already stacking your bags into their truck with surprising ease.

“I can help with that, you know,” you said, watching as they lifted your heaviest suitcase like it weighed nothing.

Hange shot you a quick grin, wiping their hands on their jeans. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.” They hoisted the last bag into the truck and shut the door with a thud, brushing their hands off like it was the easiest thing in the world.

You stood there, a little stunned by how effortlessly they’d handled everything. “Well, thanks,” you said, trying not to sound too surprised.

“Not a problem,” Hange replied, sliding into the driver’s seat again. You followed suit, glancing over at them as they started the engine.

As the truck bounced along the uneven road, you adjusted yourself in the seat, trying to get comfortable. “Do you always rescue stranded city girls, or am I just special?” you asked with a smirk, your eyes flicking over to Hange.

Hange shot you a sidelong glance, a grin tugging at the corner of their mouth. “You’re definitely special. Not every day someone shows up in boots that look fresh out of a country music video.”

You laughed, playfully nudging your boot against the dashboard. “Hey, don’t knock the boots. Thought I’d try to blend in, you know, get that whole ‘small town’ vibe going.”

Hange raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. You’re blending in real well, I’ll give you that.” There was a teasing glint in their eyes. “But just so you know, no one here actually wears that unless they’re going line dancing. Maybe if you stick around, we can test how well you can hold your own on the dance floor.”

“Line dancing? I think I’ve only done that with auntie when I was like…four or something?” you answered, unsure. You glance at Hange, catching their own eyes set on you.

“Four? How long ago was that?”

“You’re asking for my age? You never ask a lady her age, I thought you country people knew the basics of manners…” you tsk and roll your eyes playfully.

Hange laughs heartily, the sound filling the truck. “Touché. Guess I walked right into that one.” They glance at you again, still grinning. “But if I had to guess, I’d say… twenty-four? You’ve got that ‘fresh grad but still figuring it all out’ look.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back into the seat with a playful grin. “Alright, now it’s my turn. Let me guess… thirty-five?”

Hange nearly choked on their laughter, eyes widening in mock offense. “Thirty-five? Thirty-five?! You’re killing me here.”

You stifled a laugh, holding up your hands. “What? It’s not that bad. Thirty-five is prime, right?”

“Yeah, sure, if you’ve lived in dog years,” Hange shot back, shaking their head, still amused but clearly not letting it go. “I’m thirty four.”

You stifled a laugh, eyes wide. “Wait, is that offensive? It’s not that much older—just a decade or so.”

They huffed dramatically. “I’m thirty-four, not thirty-five, and yes, it kind of is when you’re still technically in your prime.”

You bit your lip, holding back a grin. “Oh, come on! Thirty-four, thirty-five… it’s practically the same thing.”

Hange gave you a side-eye, clearly trying not to laugh. “Not to us thirty-four-year-olds, it isn’t.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in a bit. “Well, you’re not exactly ancient. Plus, with all that wisdom, I’d say it suits you.”

Hange’s playful scowl broke into a grin. “Nice save.”

“Wasn’t trying to save anything,” you teased, “just stating facts.”

They shook their head, chuckling. “Yeah, yeah. Remind me not to invite you to my birthday party though. Next thing I know, you’ll have me hitting forty.”

The car rolls over the pebbles leading to your aunt’s entry, then it stops right before. Hange kills the engine and you just feel the need to say, “thirty five, forty…doesn’t matter, I think you’re sexy anyways.”

Hange’s eyes widened, and they let out a surprised laugh, their cheeks tinged with a faint blush. You smirk, then push the passenger door open and hopping down as your boots let out a satisfying sound as they crush against the stones.

You know Hange’s looking, so you walk with a sway on your hips.

#hanji x fem!reader #hange x fem!reader #hange x reader #azelma yandere hange talk #hange zoe x reader #hange zoe x fem!reader #hanji zoe x reader #hanji zoe x fem!reader #azelmawrites

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michaelsfavgirl · 1 year ago

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he takes care of you when you're sick

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Tags: established relationship, fluff, Mike being husband material

Word Count: 500+

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: first hcs on this blog lets gooo

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

Oh boy, let’s get into it

Michael is very protective of you as it is

But when you’re sick Michael's protective instincts kick into overdrive (affectionately)

Doesn't care whether it's just a common cold or something miniscule

He’s immediately treating you like fragile porcelain

But god forbid If it's a fever or a more serious ailment, he's practically glued to your hip 24/7

Good luck getting any personal space during those times

He fusses over you constantly, asking if you need him to fetch you something, making sure you're comfortable

“Feeling any better, sweet girl?”

“Are you getting cold? Lemme just quickly grab your favorite blanket”

This man can cook, okay? So expect him to whip up all kinds of soups to make you feel better.

Don't you even dare to disrespect him by opening the fridge and trying to make a meal for yourself

he won't hear of it

“Ah ah, none of that, don’t want my girl strainin herself for no reason”

“Mike i just want to eat-”

“shh, i’m here to take care of you, let’s get you back into bed hm? You go take a little nap while I make you something okay baby?” you nod defeatedly and take your ass back to bed

Is very serious when it comes to taking medicine

Doesn't care if you say it tastes like dookie

You’re taking it, end of conversation

He’ll revoke your kisses and cuddles privileges if you don’t comply

He’s pretty cruel as you can tell

But he’s so sweet afterwards, showering you with praise and kisses

“That wasn’t so difficult now was it?” He says and kisses your pout away

Will 100% help you shower if you’re feeling weak

Even when you're not sick, he enjoys doing domestic things with you; it makes him feel fuzzy and warm inside

Michael refuses to put any distance between you in bed, no matter how much you protest that he'll get sick too

This man looks at you like -_- ‘You think I care bout that?’

He'll wrap you securely in his arms and pull the sheets up to your neck

His huge hands gently caressing your skin and humming a soothing tune

As you start to feel better Michael feels a little guilty and selfish

Of course he wants his precious angel to be healthy and all, but he really gets used to taking care of you so intimately very quickly and wishes it could go on a little longer

You have to remind him that y’all live together and spend most of your time in each other's presence.

It doesn’t get any closer than that but he’s still pouting like a baby, saying he’ll miss taking care of you

As if he doesn’t already do everything for you and spoil you rotten

This man will be the death of you…and you wouldn’t have it any other way <3

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @anivkye @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson

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aroacepotatoo · 4 months ago

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Y’all wanted more of this AU so here’s another thing in it;

once Tango befriends Jimmy, he literally gets away with so much more than he should, and it literally drives Scott up the walls (to make matters worse for the guy he has to go into work the next morning and see Tango with a smug ass smile on his face toward him knowing exactly what it means while they’re co-workers are confused)

gonna try to post more art for thsi AU cuz it’s just so silly and I love it :3 (I’ve also officially named it “far fetched” or FFAU for short ^_^)

#life series #traffic life #artwork #trafficblr #fanart #traffic au #jimmy solidarity #ranchers duo #art #scott smajor #traffic smps #Poor Scott is literally sick of this family #Unluckily for him Pearls dubbed him family therefore he cannot leave #He’s just stuck with them til he dies now #He be begging for the eternal winter prophecy to come and save him now

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chevelleneech · 11 months ago

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I know I ship Jikook and it’s as unconfirmed as literally any other ship, but to ask me what I think about a “he said, she said” relationship sparked by fans of someone dating a BTS member, with ZERO foundation, is ridiculous.

Of course Jungkook could be dating someone I’ve never heard of even in passing rumors, but the same people who believe he’s with every other woman he comes into contact with, are the same people who think him dating Jimin (someone he’s known and shown physical and emotional affection for, for years) is far fetched and delusional.

Y’all have name dropped at minimum like six different women JK was dating over the last two years, but you draw the line at a man. THE SAME MAN who gave him a hickey. THE SAME MAN he sucked on the ear of. THE SAME MAN he sent a flirtatious birthday message to. THE SAME MAN he spent hours giggling over on multiple livestreams. THE SAME MAN he flirted with and propositioned while on a livestream. THE SAME MAN he chose to spend 18 months attached at the hip to.

I’m not saying anyone has to believe Jimin and Jungkook are anything more than best friends and bandmates, but the hypotheticals gotta stop. If you think he’s with someone else, so be-it, but don’t come asking me if I do. Until I have a reason to shift my thinking, I’m going to assume Jungkook likes best the man he’s always talking to, about, or is with. Plain and simple.

#jikook #jimin and jungkook

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 9 months ago

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CREEP (DabiHawks x Black!F!Reader 18+ One Shot) *GOOD ENDING VER*

Pairing: Touya “Dabi” Todoroki x Black!Fem!Reader x Keigo “Hawks” Takami

Synopsis: In which a night home with your man turns into one of pure terror and a walk on the dark side when you get the feeling that you’re being followed. After coming home to an empty house when your man gets caught up at work, you realize, terrifyingly, that you are right. There are strangers in your house.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS DNI); Dom!DabiHawks x sub!Reader; Rape/Noncon; Home Invasion; Hostage Situation; Fear Play; Edge Play; Knife Play; Gun Play; Degradation; Spitting; Choking; Hair-Pulling; Sensory Play; Bondage; Forced Orgasms; Cum Play; Orgasm Denial + Control; Daddy Kink; BDSM; Spanking; Unprotected PIV + Anal Sex; Oral + Analingus; Fingering; Forced Deepthroat; Marking; Bruising; Breeding Kink; Double Penetration; Creampie + Throatpie; Facials; Plot-Twist Ending

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I’ve had this idea for a looooong ass time & figured there’d be no time to write it like now for spooky szn! I hope y’all enjoy & PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNING (T/W). -Jazz

T/W: THIS ONE SHOT CONTAINS CONSENSUAL FEAR PLAY, ELEMENTS OF R*PE & NONCON AS WELL AS OTHER FRIGHTENING SITUATIONS. AFTERCARE IS INCLUDED IN THIS VERSION.

BAD ENDING HERE!

**********

You’ve never been happier to see the clock switch to 7 PM than you are one late autumn Friday night.

You sigh in relief at the front desk near the elevators where you are posted most of your day unless you’re running across the building to different departments or fetching coffee from the lobby’s bistro. You stand with your bag, phone, and trench coat in tow, already having clocked out on your phone.

You are pretty much the only employee to go home from the talent agency you work at besides your boss, security guards, and the sanitary workers who will be here until closing. You have been working at the popular agency downtown as an administrative assistant for three years to the handsome businessman Keigo Takami. You pass him now as you head to your shared department. His office sits on the far left of the polished office with cream-colored walls and wide cubicles for each worker.

You walk to his gorgeous, spacious office and knock on the open door instead of the glass windows to not be rude. He sits behind his desk and immediately picks his head up when he hears you. “I’m headed out now, Mr. Takami!” You call. “Have a good night!”

The handsome blonde sits behind his mahogany desk, his MacBook Air open, and a file in his lap. “Shit, is it 7 already?” He asks, looking at his watch. “I must’ve dozen for a minute.” He stretches, giving you a view of the way his arms and pecs strain against his button-down while his muscular thigh shakes in his gray slacks.

“Thanks again for staying, Y/N, and don’t ever do that again,” he says, winking at you with those crimson eyes that seem to make all the women swoon. “You sure you’ll be okay gettin’ home? It’s a dark night.”

It has been getting darker earlier and earlier since the summer ended and fall made her grand appearance. However, the blocks you take are well-lit and populated when you do happen to walk home, but usually, your boyfriend comes to pick you up. Since he is at work late today, you’re walking. “I live literally ten minutes from here. I’ll be okay.” You give him your boss a reassuring smile and a wave. “See you on Monday!”

Though Keigo still looks worried, he bids you farewell while he takes a bite from the Chinese takeout that you picked up for him earlier. You didn’t mind and you didn’t mind staying late either. A kind and considerate boss like Keigo makes it worth it.

After heading down to the lobby, sliding your employee security card across the desk to sign out, and saying goodnight to the guards, you venture out into the crisp autumn night. The streets are busy and a nice chilly breeze rustles the air. Perfect night for movies with your boyfriend.

As if sensing that you were thinking about him, his ID “Future Hubby” pops up along with his handsome face, black hair, and ocean blue eyes. His burn scars and tattoos do nothing to take away his sexiness. You answer immediately, already heading in the direction of home. “Hello?”

“Hey, baby,” your boyfriend of four years says tiredly. “You got off work?” You feel your stomach flip excitedly and chills tingle up and down your spine at the sound of Touya’s familiar, deep, raspy voice.

“Hey, I’ve been calling you all day,” you say. “Were you real busy today?” You can hear the exhaustion in Touya’s voice. “Yeah, m’sorry, doll. The shop’s been fuckin’ hectic and I didn’t get a chance to call you back.”

Touya, one of the sons of his estranged police chief father Eji Todoroki, is a well-known tattoo artist who owns a shop on the West side, basically half an hour from where you work. He is big with celebrities and online influencers who come to his shop for ink and piercings.

And with his creativity, which is extremely sexy to you, he is never out of business. “No, it’s fine, baby,” you softly respond. “I was just worried.”

His chuckle makes your body feel tingly. “Worry ‘bout yourself, doll. Did you get home yet?” You put the phone between your neck and shoulder blade as you hurried put your coat on and tie it closed against the autumn chill. “No, I just left the building and headed there now. You’re not home yet?”

Touya defeatedly and exhaustively sighs, which is a definite no. “No,” he huffs. “I don’t think I’ll be getting out of here until later tonight, baby, at least until maybe 11. We’re so backed up over here, it’s crazy.” You hear the sound of buzzing ink guns and rock music in the background, indicating that it is, indeed, a crazy, busy night.

“Oh,” you sigh, disappointment blooming in you. “So no movie night?” You were hoping to have a night with your man streaming Netflix and pretending to watch movies while he puts you in every single sex position until dawn. It’s been a while since you’ve had those chill nights with just the two of you due to your busy schedule.

You were also hoping to perhaps finally use the leather ropes he had bought a week ago to “spice things up” in the bedroom. You and Touya were already adventurous, but there are many kinky things you have yet to have tried to bring you closer together…or told him.

Though you know your boyfriend is the kinkiest man you’ve ever met, the kind to spank, choke, and tease you, there are certain “interests” you have that you’re afraid even he would hesitate about.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he somberly says. “We have all weekend together though and we can pretend to watch whatever movie ya want while I put your ass in the mattress.” You shiver at the naughty little promise. “What an apology,” you giggle.

“Listen, you sure you’ll be okay?” he asks, concern in his tone. “I know you’re a big girl and all, but the streets at this time of night are just…” He doesn’t finish. You know he means not safe, but doesn’t want to frighten you.

“Touya, I walk this way all the time,” you sigh. “I’m fine! I’ll let you know when I get in the house, okay? Just don’t torture yourself…that’s my job.”

A naughty smirk crosses your lips as Touya hums in your ear. “In that dress you put on this mornin’? You sure as fuck are doin’ a good job.” You were hoping so much that he would be the one to take it off of you if not fuck you in it tonight. “What about your boss? He didn’t offer you a dick— I mean, car ride?”

You roll your eyes. This man swears that Keigo is out to get you all for himself. Sure, he is a gorgeous man—as a woman, you can see and admit that. Admittedly, you’ve had some not-so-appropriate fantasies about you squished between him and Touya naked, but nothing beyond imagination. “Stop it, Touya,” you criticize him. “He’s my boss and he’s not out to take me from you. You know that.”

Touya gives a throaty laugh just as you hear a bell ring in the background. “If you say so…shit, my next appointment is here, but they can wait.” You begin to head towards home, walking away from your work building. “No, go and tend to your customers. I love you.”

”I love you too, baby,” Touya says, and as usual, those three little words make you swoon. Touya isn’t much of an affectionate guy to others but to you? It’s a whole other story. You just adore him. “See you at home.”

With a smile and a kissing sound, you hang up the phone and place it in your coat pocket along with your keys and pepper spray. You’ve never had to use it in all the time you’ve been working in the city and you hope you never do. You feel comfortable walking your route having done it many times before. You even listen to music as you walk, the sound of your playlist accompanying you as your boots click along the pavement.

All is well. All is good…until you get to the middle point of your route and find a big yellow “Road Work Ahead” sign. The streets are destroyed and men in hard hats are working hard shoveling concrete, ruining your walk. “Dammit,” you huff. There is no way you can make it home on your regular route now.

Taking out your phone, you stand protectively by the nearest building you see and type in your and Touya’s address. Google Maps, as usual, comes through with a shortcut for you. You listen to the automated voice in your AirPod directing you to turn around back where you came and take a left turn. You do so and suddenly, the sounds of the city fall away as you come to an alleyway.

It is a dark, wide one between a hotel building and a restaurant with two green dumpsters and a sewer shield steaming at the end. The end towards your destination. All it takes is just a couple of steps yet you continue to stand at the entrance to the pitch-dark alleyway. Not even one light from a window lights your way towards the finish line.

It shouldn’t be a big deal. Google Maps says that this is the correct way. Plus, people walk through alleys all of the time! Why is this so different for you?

But even as you try to rationalize it, something just feels…off. You can’t explain the way your feet stick to the ground and refuse to move as you stare into the eerily dark alley like it’s the open jaws of a monster out of a storybook. You half expect one to leap out at you.

But you’re only six minutes away from home! You can’t let your paranoia get the better of you. “Fuck it,” you huff. You flick on your flashlight to light your way and begin to walk through the alley.

Maybe it’s just you, but the chill you had standing at the threshold of the alley builds as you walk. The feeling of a specific “wrongness” increases with each step you make, causing you to shift into fight or flight mode. Your footsteps are careful. You keep a hand on your pepper spray. Your eyes are alert, flicking this way and that.

You are aware that you are preparing for a danger that probably isn’t even here, but your body reacts like it is here…close by you…staring at you through the darkness…or right behind you…ready to strike at any second…

Clatter, clatter.

You nearly drop your AirPod out of your ear as you gasp, your heart jumping in your chest. Your stomach turns and your hair stands straight on end as you turn around. Nothing stirs. Not even a single trash bag. You squint through the darkness, flashing your cell phone over the dumpsters. “Hello?” you shakily call. “Is someone there?”

No answer. But you do see the slightest shadow behind one of the dumpsters. You quickly cast the flashlight on it, washing the little mouse there in blinding light. He scurries away, indicating that it was just him making the noise and not a stranger lurking in the darkness. You sigh, but your heart still pounds a mile a minute. “You’re losin’ it, bitch,” you tell yourself. “You’re just paranoid.”

You continue your tentative walk through the alley, humming to yourself to ease your nerves. But try as you may, you still get the gnawing feeling that someone is following you. You sense a strange presence that creates goose pimples on your neck and a cool sweat to break out on your forehead. But instead of turning around, you walk quicker, your footsteps brisk and fast.

Finally, you make it to the end of the alley and the city opens back up to you again. You look down at your map and sure enough, you’re still on the right path. “Oh, thank God,” you whisper and begin to resume your walk home…but that feeling of being watched and stalked follows you all the way to your and Touya’s shared house.

You practically jab your key in the lock and yank the door open before tossing yourself inside to safety. You turn and lock the door, putting the Ring alarm system on for good measure. ”Honey, I’m home!” you call to the empty home.

It is dark, the curtains drawn and the lights shut. It is as you and Touya leave your house every morning before leaving for work. However, you’re so used to him coming home before you, bringing the house to life with lights and the spicy smell of curry. It feels cold coming home to an empty house…

And…quite unsettling. Or maybe that’s just the stupid paranoia you’re feeling. Even when Miku, your and Touya’s little white dog, comes up to you happily barking, you still feel odd. “Hey, baby girl,” you coo, petting the dog’s soft fur. “You want a snacky snack?” The dog’s ears immediately perk up and she scurried to the kitchen.

Quickly, you take off your shoes, dig your phone out of your pocket, and toss your coat aside. Time for decompression and self-care. You walk to the kitchen in your pretty work dress that hugs your soft, cubby form and pantyhose, the reminder to send Touya a text in the back of your mind.

After feeding Miku some of her favorite mini milk bone treats, you help yourself to the bottle of Moscato in the fridge. You take a wine glass and pour yourself some, joy filling you at the mere sight of the white wine.

As soon as you take a sip of the crisp wine, your cell phone rings. Taking the glass with you, you quickly walk back to the living room and check the caller ID, expecting Touya. But an unknown number stares back at you. You’re confused but you answer anyway, expecting a robo-call or a scam. “Hello?” you ask, putting on your professional voice.

You get no answer. Actually, don’t get any sound whatsoever. There is just…silence.

“Hellooo?” you sing, confused. You turn the volume up to hear the person better. You even look at the phone to make sure you didn’t accidentally hang up. And then, you hear it. It is faint and you almost miss it, but it’s there: faint breathing on the other end.

Freaked out, you quickly hang up, place the phone on the couch, and scowl at the call. “Weirdo,” you scoff. Must’ve been some freak trying to get his rocks off to a pretty girl’s voice.

You walk back to the kitchen to score the fridge for some leftover curry from last night, but your phone rings again. You groan and walk back to answer the call, once again finding an unknown caller ID. “Hello?” you answer, albeit irritated.

“Hi, is this Mina?” a deep, gravelly voice asks. It takes you off guard for a moment, making chills roll down your spine. “Touya?” You whisper, unsure.

“Sorry, who?” He asks. No, this voice is too deep and scratchy…though Touya does sound like he smokes a pack a day. “Sorry, do I have the wrong number? I was looking for a coworker, Mina Brown.”

You blink, snapping out of it. “Uh…no, sorry, there’s no Mina here.” The voice sighs, sounding disappointed and embarrassed. “I’m sorry miss, for the mistake. I had a date with this girl tonight and must’ve dialed the wrong number. I think she must’ve stood me up.”

There is a certain way the stranger curls his voice around each word, drawing you to them. Despite his unknown identity, his voice is quite attractive. And he sounds kind. “Oh, well, I’m sorry to hear that,” you say, genuine and sweet. “I’d take a message if I knew her.”

The man chuckles, the sound stirring something in you. “Well, ain’t that sweet of you. It’s a shame you’re not my coworker, but I’m sure I’d intimidate you.” He chuckles again, the sound oh-so-sexy and dark. It gives you a familiar shiver that only your Touya can do. You smirk, realizing that your Touya is on the phone.

You play into his little game of cat and mouse, knowing that he is a man for the chase. You are also a woman of excitement. “Oh?” You purr into the phone, plopping down on the couch. “How so?”

“Well, you just sound too sweet,” he explains. “You sound small too.” You laugh incredulously, playing with your pointed, painted nails. “I sound small? How?”

He laughs as if he knows a secret that he doesn’t intend to tell you. “I can just tell. I don’t think you could handle a guy like me, let alone two of some motherfuckers like me.”

You quirk an eyebrow, wondering where he’s going with this. “Two?” you quip. “Mmm, maybe, maybe not. I’m a girl of secrets.”

“Oh, are you?” There is a slight hint of a smirk in Touya’s voice when he asks you this, making your panties tighter than usual. “Would you want to tell them to me over dinner tonight?”

“But I thought you had a date with this Mina girl,” you giggle. “But you wouldn’t dare cheat on me, would you, Touya? Are you comin’ home to me soon?”

The line is suddenly silent and you believe he hung up. “Hello?” you ask, your heart suddenly jumping. “Touya? You there?”

“You wanna know how I know you’re a small girl?” he suddenly asks in his raspy, baritone voice. You don’t reply, your throat suddenly parched. “Because I can see you. And I told you before, love: I’m not Touya.”

The world suddenly freezes and your body is on high alert. You rise from the couch and look toward the curtain-drawn windows. Suddenly, you feel exposed. “Okay,” you carefully reply. “So who is this?” The line cuts and all you get is beeping that makes your skin roil. “Hello?” you shakily ask. Nothing.

Tossing your cell aside on the couch, you stalk to the curtains and carefully pull them back. The blinds are down, shielding you from the world as they always are when you leave the house. You and Touya wouldn’t have it any other way. But…could there possibly be someone out there who saw you go in the house? Someone you don’t know?

You reach out two shaky fingers to peel back one of the blinds, but the sharp sound of your home telephone ringing stops you. A cry of fear escapes you and you place a hand on your pounding heart. The house phone rings in the kitchen, shrill and horrible given the circumstances. You stalk towards it and answer, fury pumping in you. “Listen, stop fuckin’ callin’ here or I’ll—“

“Uh…sorry, this is an order for Touya Todoroki from Amazon,” the voice carefully says. This one is softer and silkier with a slight hint of a rasp in it. “I’m right outside with the package. I had called Mr. Todoroki, but he didn’t answer, so I called his house number.”

Your racing mind slowly processes the stranger’s words. “Oh, you sigh, relieved. Amazon is known for making late orders. “Well, can’t you just leave it on the step?” You shoot a wary look at the door.

“Unfortunately, no, ma’am,” the man replies. “Our new protocol calls for the person who ordered or someone in the household to sign for it because of the trend of stolen packages lately.” You never heard of such a protocol, but then again, he is right about the package stealing. Though the idea of opening your door scares you, it is only for a couple of seconds. “Okay, I’m coming.”

Begrudgingly, you walk to the front door, turn off the Ring, and open the door a crack. You expect to see an Amazon driver in their uniform outside, but you see no one. Nothing but trees swaying in the breeze and an empty street. “Um…where are you?” you sternly ask. “What is this, some kind of joke?”

The man hums, the sound giving you goosebumps. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he dreamily sighs. “You just look so damn cute from this angle.”

Instantly, you slam the door shut and lock it. “Fuck you,” you scoff. “Don’t ever call here again, you creep!”

“Don’t hang up,” he demands, but you cut him off by pressing the button to end the call.

As soon as you do, you hear something clatter in the kitchen, like a pan falling. You let out a yelp and drop your phone on the floor. You stare from the living room into the kitchen, refusing to move from your spot. Everything is still, but the anxious feeling in your stomach remains.

“H-Hello?” you call. “Miku, is that you?” You expect to hear your little dog let out a bark at the sound of her name, but you hear nothing. Not even the sound of her claws clicking against the floor.

Instead of a little white dog, what you’re met with is a man. He suddenly appears in front of you from the kitchen, stepping out like he owns the home he is intruding in. He is dressed all in black—black jeans, a black sweatshirt, black boots, and a black ski mask where you can only see his eyes. They are crimson and sharp like a hawk’s. “No,” he replies. “I put him out back to piss.”

You freeze, your entire body turning into a block of ice. You can’t move. You can’t even speak. The stranger’s eyes squint as he smiles at you. “My, you’re much finer up close.” His voice is silky and slightly muffled by the mask, but you recognize it as the Amazon worker you just spoke with. “Who are you?” you demand. “H-How’d you get in here?”

The stranger raises his shoulders and then drops them, passive. “You just weren’t quick enough lockin’ that door, baby girl,” he sighs. “We slipped right through when you got home earlier.” You blink at him, confused. We?

Suddenly, an arm wraps around you from the back, and cool metal presses against your throat. “Boo,” a voice whispers in your ear. It is gravelly and deep, frighteningly familiar. It’s the same voice you spoke to earlier thinking it was Touya. ‘Oh, my God,’ you think. How did they get in here?

“Don’t move or this knife is goin’ through that neck,” the second stranger demands. “I’d rather not do that before I get the chance to kiss it.” He, too, is wearing a ski mask as he presses his face into your hair and inhales your scent. He smells of cigarette smoke, the scent invading your nostrils.

“Oh, God,” you shakily whisper. “Please don’t hurt me.” The first stranger chuckles, arms behind his back as he walks toward you. “Oh, but girls like you like to be hurt. We can tell, can’t we, D?”

The second stranger nods, tightening his hold on you. “Mmm,” he hums in agreement. “That ass is beggin’ to be abused in that dress.” He presses himself against you from behind, giving you a feel of his bulge. You gasp, realizing with horror that he is hard.

The first stranger is too. You can tell by the bulge outlined by his jeans. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Hawks and this is my partner, Dabi, who is just as crazy of a motherfucker as me.”

“Hawks is also the same guy you rudely hung up on earlier after he told you not to,” Dabi growls into your ear. He presses the knife a little more into your throat, giving you just a bite of the sharp blade.

You swallow, tears pricking your eyes. He chuckles, the sound making chills explode on your skin. “Such a feisty little bitch when a knife ain’t at ya throat.”

Hawks chuckles almost sinisterly, his hand resting at his pocket. He must have a weapon too. You can’t stop the tears from falling, your fear taking over. “You see, darlin’, we’ve been watchin’ you for a long time,” Hawks explains. “You think this is the first time we’ve seen you or that you’ve seen us?”

“We’ve had our eyes on you for a while,” Dabi adds. “We’ve watched you when you walked to work. When you got in your car to go wherever the fuck. When you’d be snuggled up with your man on the couch.” He laughs to himself. “Such a stupid little whore. You didn’t even realize it.”

“And now we’re here to finally take what we want,” Hawks purrs.

You’re horrified when you process their terrifying words. They’ve been watching you? No wonder they knew how to get in. They’ve probably studied you from the windows outside, followed you around to know your every move.

The idea that these two have been following close behind you, lurking in the shadows while you went about your life so obviously is like a horror movie to you. But for how long was this happening? And why didn’t you realize it sooner?

“What do you want?” you sob. “Money? You can have it! I-I have some cash in my wallet a-and I can give you my—“

Hawks and Dabi cut you off when they begin laughing. The sound takes you aback. “Oh, no, baby bird,” Hawks chuckles. “We don’t want your money. Believe me, we’ve got plenty of that.” He smirks, evident by his tone. “No, we want somethin’ more than that.”

Anyone else would recognize the predatory look that has appeared in his blood-colored irises, but you don’t. You’re too scared to think about anything but surviving. “T-Then take it!” you stammer. “You can have whatever you want! Anything!”

Hawks’ bushy, blonde brows raise. “Anything?” he suggestively asks. Instantly, you realize your very bad mistake. “Then what would you say if we said we wanted you and that body of yours?”

He waltzes up to you and raises one gloved hand to caress your cheek. “What would you think if we said we wanted to fuck that pretty mouth, that tight pussy, and maybe even that ass, hm?”

Your mind is moving in slow motion, every word too hard to process. “I-I…”

Dabi tightens his hold on you, making you gasp when you realize that your arms are caught under his hold. “Answer the goddamn question,” he growls in your ear. The knife feels like it’s going deeper into your throat. “I-I don’t know!” You sob, tears spilling down your cheeks. “Please don’t hurt me!”

Hawks coos to you, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. “Oh, but, baby, you want to be hurt. The pain that we’re gonna give you is gonna feel so, so good.” He nods at Dabi who releases you, now replaced by Hawks’ arms wrapping tightly around you and turning you to face his partner.

He is taller than Hawks, but you can see he is still packing muscle under his black T-shirt and jeans. He wears boots and a ski mask too where you can only see two ice-blue eyes intensely gazing at you from the opening. His face and arms are laced in burns, but inked tattoos rope his arms down to his gloved hands.

“And you’ll love it because we said so,” Hawks whispers in your ear. He smells of cologne and autumn leaves. “Now are you gonna be a good girl and do everything we say?”

Click.

“I wouldn’t want to use this if you don’t,” he says, his tone sickeningly soft and sweet despite the fact that he has a gun and is threatening to use it.

Shakingly, you nod and bite your wobbly lip to keep from crying. “Good girl,” he coos and presses a kiss to your cheek. “See? You’re already doin’ a great job for us.”

He nods at Dabi again and suddenly, you’re being hoisted over his partner’s broad shoulder and carried upstairs. "No, please!” you gasp. “Don’t!”

Smack!

The sharp sting of Dabi’s hand on your jiggly ass stuns you into silence. Shut the fuck up and don’t move,” he orders. “Or this hand is smackin’ that pretty face next.” Hopelessly, you quiet down except for some soft sobs that escape your body as you venture upstairs through the dark hallway.

Dabi and Hawks decide on yours and Touya’s shared bedroom, much to your dismay. Dabi kicks the door open, revealing the clean, dark, lavender-scented room and king-sized bed to ravage you on. “Get her inside and sit her on the bed. I’ll lock the door,” Hawks instructs.

He pauses, snickering to himself. “Not that she’ll be goin’ anywhere,” he chuckles.

You look up in time to see him rummaging through a bedroom drawer and retrieving your leather rope. ‘Oh, God,’ you think in horror. A sinking feeling of dread takes over you when you realize what they plan to do to you. Dabi tosses you onto the bed and flips you over onto your stomach, making you yelp. “Grab her arms,” he growls. “I’ll get her legs.”

He stands on one side of the bed while Hawks stands on the other. He tosses some rope to Dabi and both begin working to tie you up. You try to struggle as Dabi grabs your ankles, tying them together. “No, please!” You wail. “Please don’t do this! My boyfriend is coming—“

“He ain’t comin’, you lyin’ slut,” he snarls. “Now stop pissin’ me off or we’ll have to gag you.” Once again, you’re silenced as he works to tie your ankles. Hawks kneels on the bed to tie your wrists behind your back, restricting all movement.

Once they finish, they stand back and admire their handiwork. “Like a sexy little Christmas gift,” Hawks comments.

Dabi hums in agreement. “Now…let’s get these pretty clothes off of that little body.” Your hairs stand when you hear a switchblade open. Dabi begins by teasingly dragging the cold blade over your skin, from your neck to your shoulders. “What is that, baby doll?” He huskily asks.

You swallow hard, struggling to breathe through your fear. “A-A knife,” you shakily answer. Hawks applauds you, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Good girl! Maybe you aren’t as stupid as we thought…though I do like my sluts a little dumb.”

Dabi chuckles sinisterly. “I do too. We’ll have to work in some trainin’, huh?” The tip of the blade glides up to the top of your dress.

Rrrrrrip.

You gasp, realizing that he’s cutting your designer dress off of your body. “No, no, please don’t! N-Not my dress!” Dabi doesn’t listen, still cutting away at the fabric as you plead and sob. You begin to scream, in fear that the knife could slip and slice you. In fear of what will happen next.

Suddenly, a hand shoots out to grab your hair and stuff your face into the bed. “STOP SCREAMING!” Dabi screams, his raspy voice bouncing off of the walls. You do as he says, but your whimpering cannot be stopped.

Hawks’ grows harder from the sound, his hard bulge in your face. “Aw, listen to the little slut, Dabi,” he tuts. “She sounds so cute beggin’ like that. I can’t wait to hear all of that beggin’ and pleadin’ while she bounces on my cock.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Dabi growls. She’s loud as fuck anyway.” Finally, the dress is ripped off of you, leaving you in only your panties and stockings. “Lace?” He asks humorously. He pulls back the elastic waistband and snaps it back against your skin.

“No bra?!” Hawks guffaws. “Oooh, you’re just beggin’ to be fucked, baby girl. I bet you walk around in shit like this all the time at work, don’tcha, slut?”

Sniffling, you shake your head. You’re not a greedy little slut like that. You just like to look pretty.

“Uh-huh,” Hawks replies, tsking. “You little liar. You’re just hopin’ someone will take you aside, lift up your tight dress, and fuck you over a desk, right?” He takes two fingers and uses them to lift your chin up to look up at him, distracting you from Dabi cutting your panties off of you.

“N-No,” you whimper, but Dabi stuffs your own panties in your mouth before you can finish. You yelp as your mouth is suddenly stuffed in cotton and the taste of you. He chuckles at the sight of you now. “That’s muuuch better.”

Hawks thoughtfully taps a finger to his chin. “Something is missing though….right! I’ve got it!”

You watch him take something out of his pocket: a satin blindfold. Oh, no. “Hold still, baby,” he chuckles before putting the blindfold over your eyes. You are now in total darkness and totally at the mercy of these strange men.

Why does the idea of that make you feel so horny? It’s sick. It’s disgusting. You feel like a depraved, deviant little whore even feeling this way, but you’ve never been wetter in your entire life!

“God, that’s hot!” Hawks groans. “Seein’ her like this is makin’ me so fuckin’ hard. I’m sure you’ve got the same issue, D.” You suddenly feel his bulge hot and hard against your lips. “You feel that, little bitch? That’s aaall because of you.”

Another hard cock presses against your ass as Dabi cuts off your bra. Now you are completely exposed. Tears soak your blindfold from your old tears as the cool air hits your skin pimpled in goosebumps. You whimper as you feel the cold blade of Dabi’s knife press against your skin.

“Ya feel that?” He whispers. You nod as carefully as you can. “Careful, doll. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, plus this carpet looks expensive. I doubt you can get blood out of it.”

His hand laces through your hair and wrenches your head back. You grunt at the sharp pain exploding from your scalp. “So if you even think of tryin’ somethin’ funny when we ungag you, you won’t like what happens next.”

Suddenly, you feel two naked fingers probing your entrance, swirling around your slit. “I doubt that, D!” Hawks laughs. “Look at how wet her pussy is! She loves this shit!”

More fingers invade your pussy, making you whine in protest through your panty gag. Dabi hums pleasantly at the sight of your glistening, wet cunt. “Oh, you devious little girl. This is gettin’ you off? You kinky little bitch.”

He gives your pussy a harsh smack, making you jump which makes him laugh. “Let’s give this kinky little bitch what she needs, D,” Hawks suggests, his voice filled with lust. You feel his hand in your hair, stroking the burning area from Dabi’s yanking.

“You gonna listen to everythin’ we say?” He softly asks, but there is an underlayer of seriousness there. You know better than to say no.

So when he takes the gag out of your mouth, you say what they expect of you: “Yes,” you whimper.

Smack!

Another harsh slap to your cunt makes you whine in pain from the sharp sting. “That’s 'yes, sirs,’” Hawks corrects you. “Or Daddies. You get to choose tonight, baby! Consider that our reward to you. Now try again.”

You swallow hard, your throat dry and thick from crying. “Yes, sirs,” you whisper. “I promise I’ll listen.” You’ll have to if you want to see your boyfriend again.

Your answer pleases your two assailants and they begin to strip for you. Your ears perk and your stomach roils at the sound of fabric rustling, belt buckles loosening, and zippers coming down. You know what will come next for you and there is no escaping it. Suddenly, something warm, soft, and wet presses against your bottom lip, running indecently across your mouth.

You feel something else slapping against your cheek, hard and warm. It doesn’t take all of your brain power to realize that they are cocks in your face. “Feel that, mama?” Hawks teasingly asks. “Are these cocks nice and big? Think you can take both of ‘em?”

He presses his head against your soft lips, forcing you to give it a kiss. ”Oh, I’m sure you can. You know how to handle a big dick, right?”

“Get her to kneel,” Dabi gruffly demands. I’m goin’ first.” Both men hoist you up and force you onto your knees like a puppet on strings, controlling your every move. You have no choice but to follow. With your ankles and wrists tied and your eyesight still cut off, you’re helpless.

“Open your fuckin’ mouth,” Dabi orders. You do so, your plump lips wobbling and your tongue out the way Touya likes. Maybe Dabi will like it too. He gives you your answer when he taps his cock head against your tongue, giving you a taste of his dick piercing. He then sinks his cock deep inside your mouth, filling it to the brim with his thick, veiny shaft.

You nearly choke, taken aback at all of that dick. He slips in so far that his balls touch your chin and you have to breathe through your nostrils so you don’t choke. “Take me deep, mama,” he growls. “C’mon, open that throat. Don’t piss me off.” His hand grasps your hair, giving him leverage as he begins to roughly fuck your throat like it’s a fleshlight.

Grunts and moans leave Dabi’s mouth as he pounds your throat, pulling your head back and forth onto his length. It is quite difficult to suck dick without using your hands, so you’re forced to take every inch of him despite your gagging and the choking, wet sounds leaving your throat.

Hawks watches on, stroking himself as he does. You can hear him do so, his soft moans drifting to your ears. “So obedient,” he sighs. “And so wet. You were just aching for this kinda treatment, weren’t you?”

Finally, Dabi releases you, taking his long dick out of your mouth. You suck in a deep breath, swallowing your own spit and his pre-cum even though most drips down your chin.

“My turn,” Hawks whispers, taking hold of your head. “Brace yourself, baby bird, ‘cause I won’t be nice.” He slides in with a moan, filling you up just as much as Dabi did.

Hawks is thicker than Dabi—you can tell by how he stretches out your throat as he fucks it, slamming in and out, in and out. “Shit, that throat is tight!” He moans, gripping your hair. Your throat protests from the constant, unwanted stimulation, making you gag and wheeze.

“Don’t take too long,” Dabi impatiently growls. “I want to fuck it some more too.” His hand grips your throat, unintentionally massaging Hawks’ cock while he is balls deep inside of it. “And you’d better not use no teeth,” he growls.

Hawks finally finishes his turn and you’re passed off to Dabi again. At this point, your jaw aches and your entire face feels sticky, but you don’t refuse him. “Oh, look at that face!” Hawks cackles. “All that spit, all that drippin’ makeup…baby bird, you look a sexy little mess.” He dreamily sighs, wiping at your cheek. “I wish you could use yourself. Actually…”

The blindfold suddenly moves off of your eyes, the dark veil lifted. The duo only stripped from the waist down, revealing only their feet, thick, muscular thighs, and hard dicks. Now, with your eyes open, you can finally see what your assailants’ cocks look like.

Hawks has tanner skin with muscular legs sinewy blonde hair and a toned, bare stomach leading down to a thick, uncut cock. Dabi slides himself out of your mouth to give you a view of his cock—he is long, curved, and piercing at the base and tip. His thighs are paler and his stomach is coated in fine hair and tattoos.

He shoves himself back in again, making your eyes tear, while Hawks nods at your open closet door where your mirror is. ”Lucky us that you have a mirror,” he chuckles. “Look at us fuckin’ your throat and don’t you dare look away. Look at that dumb little slut takin’ all of that cock like a big girl.”

You do as he says and watch yourself, seeing how Dabi controls your head and your mouth as he fucks it stupid. Your makeup is a wreck, all of your lipstick smudged, your chubby cheeks tear-stained, and your mascara running.

You are so focused on the broken, used girl staring back at you in the mirror that you accidentally graze Dabi with your teeth. He grunts in pain and flinches, glaring at you. ”Bitch,” he growls, “I said no teeth.”

His hand grips your chin as his other hand strikes you across the face. “I-I’m sorry!” you sob. “I won’t do it again!”

Hawks steps in, tutting. “Cut her some slack, D. I was distractin’ her.” He begins to lovingly stroke your burning cheek. “Don’t worry, baby bird. I’ll make it all better after you take more of my cock, okay?”

“Please—“ But your sentence is cut off by another dick sliding down your throat. Hawks groans as he roughly fucks your sloppy, tight little throat while Dabi strokes his dick in your face, forcing you to keep looking at the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he demands. “Look at how good you’re bein’ for us. Keep it up, doll, and we won’t be so hard on you.”

He leans in, his lips at your ear. “But you love that shit, don’t you?” You realize with fresh tears that maybe you do. “She’s such a good little cocksucker, ain’t she?” Hawks moans. “Maybe this is what she gets up to at work…just the little office slut who gets paid to suck and fuck.”

They continue to take turns using and abusing your throat until finally, they get sick of it. You cough and wheeze, finally able to breathe as spit and pre-drip down your chin. But this isn’t the end–the duo’s predatory, menacing gazes tell you that.

“Get her on the fuckin’ bed,” Dabi growls. “I need to be inside that body now.”

Your body tenses in fear, realizing that what they intend to do to you is soon coming to fruition. “Hold your horses, D!” Hawks laughs as he ties the blindfold around your eyes again. “We’ve gotta get the bitch ready for us first. Those tight little holes need some affection.”

He and Dabi hoist you up and force you into position–face down, ass up. Hawks presses his mouth to your ear along with the cold barrel of a gun to your lips. “Don’t move while we do this. If you do, you won’t enjoy what happens next. Understand?”

Your bottom lip wobbles furiously feeling the gun press in it. “Yes, sir,” you whisper, your voice raw from the constant throatfucking. Hawks kisses your cheek. “Good girl. Now what hole do you wanna taste, Dabi?”

You feel Dabi’s rough, ringed fingers palm your ass. “Just as long as I get to fuck one, I don’t care. Just remember who’s got the best tongue here.”

Hawks scoffs and rolls his scarlet eyes behind his mask. “You say that just because of that piercing. But we’ll see whose tongue she likes best.”

Dabi gives your ass a smack, the rings making your skin burn more. “Spread ‘em, baby doll,” he growls. You do as he wants and he spreads your asscheeks apart. His hot breath on both of your holes makes your body buck.

But nothing makes you shake like the cold metal you suddenly feel on your pussy. “W-What is that?” you gasp. It’s definitely not a toy or a knife.

“Nothin’ you need to worry about,” Hawks replies. “...If you do as we say.” He continues to rub your pussy with the unknown object, teasing your clit. The cold metal against your hot, sensitive bud makes you whimper and moan, your thighs struggling to hold still.

Especially when Dabi begins to kiss, bite, lick, and suck on your ass. Hawks laughs, taking the object away. “Who knew a gun would make such a great sex toy, hm? You’re wetter than you were before!” You’ve never been so relieved to feel a pair of fingers before as he begins to toy with your pussy like it’s his.

Suddenly, Hawks takes his digits away and a tongue replaces them. It is hot, wet, and long yet the tip is slightly cold against your hot skin, indicating Dabi’s piercing. His tongue slithers along your cunt, slurping up every drop of your wetness. You hate how good it feels.

“O-Oh!” you gasp against his mouth. Hawks palms your ass this time, watching in enjoyment as Dabi eats your gushing pussy. “That’s it, baby bird,” he coos. “Just relax and be a good little doll for him.”

Dabi hums appreciatively at your taste, his pussy-eating becoming more feral and hungry. His tongue flicks so quickly against your clit that you can barely focus on your breathing. Just as his tongue enters you, Hawks’ thumb enters your asshole.

You gasp at the sensation, feeling stuffed to the brim. He hums pleasantly at your reaction and at your hole squeezing around his thumb slick with his saliva. “Fuck, you’re so tight here, mama,” he hisses. “I can only imagine how you’ll take a dick in this little hole.”

He pulls his thumb out and replaces it with his tongue, following Dani’s quick, merciless tongue strokes. You moan and whine into the bed, your body feeling like it’s going to explode from the immense pleasure despite it being forced upon you. “A-Ah, fuck!” you sob. “Oh, fuck, please! Please slow down! I-I can’t—“

Smack!

A hand slaps you hard on your soft, fat ass. “Quiet,” Dabi snaps. “You’re gonna take what we fuckin’ give you. Dumb whores like you don’t get a say.” Hawks pulls away from your ass, a string of saliva on his bottom lip. “And if you wanna cum, I suggest you listen, baby girl…or do you not wanna cum?”

Instantly, Dabi pauses and just like that, the euphoric feeling is stripped away from you. “No, no, don’t stop!” you beg, delirious from pleasure. “Please don’t stop! Make me cum, please!” You need to cum. Your mind will break if you don’t.

Satisfied, the duo continues to bring you to orgasm, their tongues and jaws moving at a furious pace. “Keep begging,” Dabi demands. “Tell us you’re ours.”

You’ll tell them whatever they want at this point. Anything to reach that peak. “I-I’m yours!” you cry, tears soaking your blindfold. “I’m all yours! Ah, f-fuck, I’m cumming!”

With a broken moan, your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave and you orgasm all over yourself and your assailants’ tongues. They moan, deep and low, in appreciation for your taste and greedily slurp up each ounce of cum.

They lick at your holes until you become overstimulated. Your loud moans of release fade into soft, broken whimpers and hiccups as the pleasure becomes absolute agony. Finally, Dabi pulls away from your pussy. “Look at this mess you made,” he tsks. “Now you have to clean it all up.”

His hand grasps your chin and forces you to kiss him, your lips smashing against his. His pierced tongue swirls with yours, forcing you to taste yourself off of him.

Hawks snatches you away to do the same, making you taste the cum that slipped down your asscrack. You gasp into the rough, sloppy kiss, feeling overstimulated everywhere. “I think those holes are slick enough for us now,” he huskily whispers. “You wanna flip a coin, D?”

Dabi grunts in disagreement. “Nah. I get her pussy. We already discussed that.” He grabs you and positions you into his desired position: on his lap in cowgirl. With your arms and legs still tied, he has to hold you up and position his cock between your thighs. When you feel his hard, throbbing shaft push against your asscheeks, doom roils in your stomach. You know what’s coming next.

“Please,” you beg. “You don’t have to do this.”

You know it’s useless though. There is no escaping this. “Don’t act like you don’t want this, doll,” Dabi whispers. “You said you can handle guys like us, right? Well, here’s your chance to prove it.”

Finally, he lifts his hips up and pushes himself deep inside of you. You gasp as your cunt stretches around him, your back arching instantly into him.

Dabi palms one of your tits, taking one of your hard nipples into his fingers. “Don’t fight it, baby,” he whispers. “Just take it.” As he pinches one of your nipples, he begins to thrust his cock up inside of you in deep, long, fast strokes like a jackhammer. Pleasure and pain mingle, creating an intoxicating cocktail. Your breaths come out in huffs and moans as Dabi bounces you like a bunny on his cock, making you take every inch of him.

“Fuck!” he groans. “You’re so fuckin’ wet for this.” He grips your ass so hard that he’ll leave bruises. “Nasty little bitch. Tell Daddy you love this shit.” He leans in, latching his lips and teeth onto your neck with every intention of leaving a hickey. You whine in response, too cock drunk to answer. Your body aches from the restraints and your pussy quivers with every mindblowing thrust.

“Tell me you love it when I fuck you,” Dabi growls. “Tell me you love bein’ our little slut. TELL ME!”

His hand wraps around your throat, giving you a threatening squeeze. “I love it!” you practically scream. “I love being your little slut, I promise!”

Dabi laughs, the sound dark and menacing among the slapping of his thighs and balls against you. “Yeah, you do,” Hawks chuckles. He suddenly appears behind you and you feel his cock slap against your plump ass. “And you’ll love this too…or not. I really don’t give a fuck, but you are gonna cum whether you want to or not.”

He pushes you forward into Dabi’s hard chest who forcefully holds you down as your ass is presented to Hawks. His cock gently probes your asshole, slick and ready. “Now open up for me, baby bird.”

“Wait, wait!” you protest, but it’s too late. Hawks pushes and your body seizes as your asshole forcefully stretches around Hawks’ cock. You cry out at the burning sensation, feeling like you’re a balloon that is being pumped with too much air.

“Shit!” Hawks swears, gripping your hips. “Such a tight little hole you’ve got, baby. What, your man don’t fuck you here?” He, too, begins to thrust his hips into your hole, forcing you to open up for him with every thrust.

You are a gasping, whimpering mess, your holes stuffed to the brim. “Ah, ah, fuck, i-it’s too much! Oh, God, stop! It hurts!”

You begin to squirm, trying in vain to escape them, but Hawks holds you down. “Uh-uh, don’t you fuckin’ run from me,” he threateningly growls. “You’re gonna take both of our cocks like a good girl. I could’ve damn well stuck my gun in your tight little ass instead, so be grateful that it’s my dick.”

He takes your chin in his hand, wrenching your head back despite you crying out in pain. “Just relax, baby bird,” he coos in your ear. “Just let us use your body. You’ve got no say in it, so you might as well let it happen.”

Soon, they begin to fuck you in unison, one pushing in while the other pulls out and slams into you again. Your holes tighten and clench around their cocks, protesting the rough stimulation, but they don’t stop. They push and pull you into their bodies, using you as if you’re no more than a ragdoll.

“This is what you wanted, baby doll,” Dabi grunts. “So this is what you fuckin’ get. Fuck her harder, Hawks. I wanna see this slut cum over and over again for us.”

Hawks obliges, putting his entire body into pounding into your tight hole with Dabi jackhammers up into you. The bedsprings creaks furiously from their movements and the room is filled with the sounds of grunts, moans, and the squelching of your pussy.

Your voice is the loudest… evidently, too loud because Hawks puts your panties back in your mouth. “Sorry, babes, but you were too loud,” he chuckles. “Your moans are so pretty, but Daddy needs his eardrums.”

Dabi grips your throat, making you look at him despite your blindfold. “I can’t wait to fill this pussy up,” he moans. “Can’t wait to give you these babies. And you’re gonna love it, aren’t you?” You whine in protest, making him cackle. “Your pussy feels like it will. Hawks, take that shit off of her. I wanna see her eyes when she cums.”

Panting and moaning, Hawks takes the blindfold off of you, allowing you to see. Two ice blue eyes stare deep into your soul, Dabi’s face the only covered thing on him. “You’re gonna remember this forever,” he growls. “We’ll make sure of it.”

“We’re gonna fuckin’ ruin you, baby!” Hawks laughs, his thrusts speeding up with Dabi. “Now cum for us. Be a good little slut for us, mkay?”

Your orgasm builds and builds and builds until it comes tumbling down over you. Dabi’s cock and pelvis rubbing your clit and abusing your G-spot over and over again triggers you to climax. With a moan of anguish at cumming from a cock that isn’t your boyfriend’s, you gush all over Dabi’s cock, screaming around the panty gag.

The two men furiously chase their highs, fucking your holes in tandem, until they finally explode inside of you with matching grunts of release.

You gasp as feel their nut gush into your holes and drip down your thighs. You are so filled that the two fresh loads gush out of you, staining the bed. They even pull out to cum on your tits and ass, completely coating you in their scent until your skin is sticky and wet with their spunk. When the fog of your orgasm fades, you are left with nothing but exhaustion. Overcome with it, you collapse against Dabi’s chest.

With a soft moan, Hawks slowly pulls out of your ass despite your hiss at the sting. “Damn, man, she is fucked up,” he chuckles. “We really did a number on her.”

Dabi stays inside of you, keeping his cum plugged inside of your pussy. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “Our job here is done then,” he sighs.

“Touya,” you gasp through ragged breaths. “Please.”

Immediately, the two men look at you in joint concern, their roles as Dabi and Hawks, the ruthless, merciless, toxic men who broke into your house and took you by force, dropping immediately.

Touya snatches off his mask, revealing his face and white hair. “What is it, baby?” he softly asks. “What do you need?” He cups your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours for an answer. Water,” you whisper.

Keigo takes off his mask and jumps off of the bed naked. “I’ll get it,” he announces and hurries to the bathroom to get a glass for you. Touya gently lays you down on the bed and unties your wrists and ankles, rubbing the kinks out of them and easing the burning sensation from them with some oil. He then cuddles you to him, his arms secure and warm.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he shushes you. “You did so well for us, doll. You’re such a good girlfriend to me.” Your body melts into his the more you breathe in the fruity smell of the massage oil and his scent of cigarette smoke. You still feel tired, but not used or broken. You still have your man and he loves you.

Even pretending to be a home invader and roughing you up alongside your boss cannot change that. It is all proof of that. You don’t know anyone else who would agree to this dark, sexual fantasy but Touya…except for Keigo, of course. He comes back with your glass of water and hands it to Touya.“She okay?” he worriedly asks.

Your boyfriend nods, handing you the glass. “Yeah, just sub dropping. She’ll be fine in a few.” He gently tilts the glass to your lips, coaxing you to sip. “Just drink your water, babe. Don’t leave a single drop.” You do as he says and open your lips to sip the cool, steady stream of water as if you are a baby bird being fed.

When you finish, you feel much better. “Thatta girl,” Touya praises, gently kissing you. “Now lay down and relax. You’re okay. We’re the only ones here.” He lays you down in the middle of his and Keigo’s bodies, the moonlight shining over you and them. “Well, I hope she had fun,” Keigo laughs lightly. “I certainly did.”

Touya laughs with him, their deep, sexy laughs filling you with a warm, tingly sensation. “Oh, I know she did,” your man states. Because you did. “Thanks again for agreein’ to this, man.”

Keigo tuts, his hand gently stroking down your backside. “How could I refuse fucking the brains of my cute little assistant out of her head? And bringing her kinky little fantasy to life, no less.”

Touya smirks, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. “Betcha didn’t think you had such a freaky little slut workin’ for ya.” You shiver at the degrading words falling from his lips. “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Touya,” Keigo smirkingly replies. “I always knew, but a home invasion is somethin’ else!”

His hand travels farther down to caress your hips, his touch gentle and loving. “You’ve got a good girl to call your own,” he whispers, his crimson eyes staring at you in adoration.

Touya chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Oh, I know and she’s my good girl,” he purrs. “Aren’t you, doll?” You whimper tiredly in response, but a small smile crosses your lips. All is well. All is safe.

THE END.

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #bnha smut #dabi x black!reader #hawks x black!reader #dabihawks #touya todoroki #keigo aka my husband #daddy dabi #chubby reader #plus sized reader

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clangenrising · 30 days ago

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Month 20 - Leaffall

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When the fighting was finally over, Goldenstar found herself staring up at the body of Sardine.

Eventually, the opposing forces had been so outnumbered that the Chaff had started surrendering and the Exalted left had mostly followed suit. Despite that, the stench of death hung heavy in the confines of the barn. A headcount went up and the casualties were confirmed; two of Rudy’s gang, no Clan cats. Boldmoth’s leg had been terribly mangled and she’d been pulled out to see the healers but everyone else was going to be alright.

It was a relief, one she should have been celebrating, and yet somehow she found herself fixated on Sardine’s corpse, suspended above their heads and dripping blood. Her whiskers twitched as someone came up beside her and she turned to see Russetfrond scowling up at the body as well.

“What a terrible way to die,” he said, voicing her thoughts.

“No kidding.” She swallowed, eyes drifting back upward. “I think that was harder to watch than Razor’s death. The way he was screaming…” She shuddered and let out a slow breath between her teeth.

Russetfrond leaned in to press his bloodied flank against hers. “But we did it. It’s over now.”

“I guess it is,” she said in disbelief. “Thank StarClan. I’m so sick of war.” She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder and he grunted which meant he agreed but didn’t want to say so.

“Well fought,” Rudy’s voice pulled her back to attention as he approached. “I have to admit, it was a lot easier with you lot around.”

“We were happy to uphold our end of the agreement,” she said, subtly reminding him of his own half. “Now the city is free from tyranny and our peoples can be at peace.”

“Mm,” Rudy seemed unimpressed but didn’t disagree. “We’re going to go back and spread the news. You wanna come?”

“I’m honored,” she said, “but I think we’ll have to pass. The paths of your city are still strange and confusing to us.”

Rudy laughed and said, “Right. Well, we’ll see you, then. Don’t get any ideas about encroaching on our territories though, we’re allies, not buddies.”

“Understood,” Goldenstar said seriously. Russetfrond grunted as well.

With that, Rudy turned and said, “Alright, boys, let’s head out! Take the bodies to be buried but leave Sardine for the Folk.” A rowdy cheer of agreement went up from his supporters and soon they had vacated the barn with their prisoners.

“We should go too,” said Orangestar, crossing the barn towards her.

“Agreed,” Goldenstar nodded, raising her tail and her voice, “Let’s head back to the Cornerstones to celebrate before the twolegs can find us.”

“Here, here!” cheered Snowstar, her fur a streaky pink mess. “Prey is on SkyClan tonight. I’ll send Fernspeckle and Robinswoop to fetch something for everybody.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Orangestar said, eyes wide at the offer.

“I want to,” Snowstar said. “We fought hard. We deserve a fitting celebration.” There were several cheers among the crowd. Goldenstar swallowed, unable to fully agree with Sardine still hanging above her like an omen of death. She turned and headed for the door with Orangestar and Russetfrond close on either side.

“If it’s alright with y’all,” Wes said, stepping out of the crowd with a polite dip of his head, “I’d love t’join you in the celebration. I could even bring somethin’ as a thank you for the invitation.” His smile was so earnest that Goldenstar couldn’t bear to turn him down.

“I suppose that’s alright,” she said, glancing at her friends. “We won’t have any interest in kittypet food, though.” Russetfrond grunted in firm agreement.

“Not food then,” Wes nodded. “I could bring toys? Or catnip perhaps.”

“Catnip?” Orangestar’s brows shot upward. “Like, the herb?!”

“Yeah,” Wes nodded. “I think my friend Fawn has a patch in her garden. I don’t care much for the stuff but I know lots of cats use it when they’re lookin’ for a good time.”

“Recreationally?” Goldenstar stared in confusion. “You don’t need it for coughs?”

“For coughs?” Wes frowned, seemingly daunted by their reactions. “Nah, we’ve got our Folk for that. ‘Sides, there’s plenty to go around.”

Goldenstar couldn’t believe her ears. “Um, yeah, sure,” she laughed. “Why not?” Russetfrond scowled but didn’t protest.

“Great,” Wes smiled in relief. “Is it alright if I invite Fawn as well? I’d hate t’take her catnip and run.”

“Yeah, of course,” nodded Goldenstar. “If she’s a friend of yours, she’s a friend of mine.”

“Sounds good,” said Wes with a polite little dip of his head to each of them. “Where’s this ‘Cornerstones’ at?” Goldenstar paused, unsure how to explain, but Songdust inserted herself into the conversation and came to her rescue.

“I’ll show him the way,” she said.

“Thanks,” nodded Goldenstar. “Stay safe.”

“Will do,” said Songdust.

“I’ll make sure nothin’ happens to her, Miss Goldenstar,” Wes said seriously.

Goldenstar laughed and shared an amused glance with Orangestar. “I know. We’ll see you there.” Songdust nodded and flicked her tail against Wes’s leg and together they headed off towards the city.

Russetfrond growled uneasily. “I don’t like it. We shouldn’t be showing kittypets to the Cornerstones.”

“It’ll be fine,” Goldenstar said, bumping reassuringly against him. “And besides, if there really is enough catmint to go around, we can keep some for our herb stores. Just imagine! Fully stocked catmint for leafbare!”

“Maybe we can trade for some every leafbare!” Orangestar purred in excitement. “Think of how many lives we could save!”

Russetfrond grumbled in reluctant agreement. “I guess this Wes cat seems trustworthy enough.”

“He is,” Goldenstar nodded. Then, knowing a task would put him more at ease, she said, “Could you make sure everyone gets to Cornerstones safely? I don’t want anyone getting left behind.”

“‘Course,” he grunted with a serious nod.

“Thanks,” she purred, butting up against his shoulder. “I’m gonna stop at camp and meet you all at the Cornerstones.”

“Sounds good,” Orangestar nodded. “StarClan light your path!”

“You too,” grinned Goldenstar and then she took off trotting through the grass towards home. The chilly night seemed lighter than before, the wind gentler. As she neared the camp, she ran into Barleybee and Sparrowsway who were strolling home with tails intertwined.

She kicked up her pace to close the distance with them and called out, “You two not going to the festivities?”

Barleybee smiled with embarrassment as they both turned to face her, saying, “Not tonight. It honestly just sounds tiring.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Goldenstar said, looking them over. Barleybee was missing several of her cardinal feathers and Sparrowsway had a slight limp on his left side but neither one was particularly injured, which was a relief. Her mind made a few quick jumps from that thought to the next and she added, “How’s Floodstrike doing?”

The siblings exchanged a worried glance.

“I’m not sure,” said Sparrowsway grimly. “He’s still all worked up.”

“I told him revenge wouldn’t make him feel any better,” Barleybee sighed, her frown deepening.

“Yeah, but you know he doesn’t listen,” said Sparrowsway. Barleybee chewed her lip, gaze drifting into the middle distance.

“I’ll have to check in with him,” hummed Goldenstar. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course, Goldenstar,” Sparrowsway said with a slight smile. “Have fun at the Cornerstones tonight.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” she said, realizing they didn’t know the news. “Wes says he’s going to bring enough catmint for everyone to use some.”

“What?” Sparrowsway’s brow furrowed at the absurdity of the statement. “Like, just for fun?”

“Mhm,” she grinned. “Apparently the kittypets are practically swimming in the stuff.”

“Weird,” Barleybee laughed, rolling her shoulders as if an uncomfortable prickle had run down her spine. “Kittypets are so strange.”

At this point, they had reached the crest of the hill and descended into camp together. Pantherhaze, Oddstripe, and Alderrtail sat together in the entrance to the nursery, sharing tongues while Slatepaw and the kittens slept within. When Oddstripe spotted them, he perked his ears and leapt up to meet them, eyes wide.

“Is everyone alright?” he asked, looking his kits up and down. “Do they need me at the barn?”

“Everyone’s fine,” Goldenstar assured him. “No casualties and only one serious injury in EarthClan. We’re going to the Cornerstones to celebrate if you’d like to come.”

“The kittypets are bringing a bunch of catmint,” Barleybee whispered in amazement.

“They are?” Just behind Oddstripe, Aldertail brightened. “Just for anybody to use?”

“Apparently,” Goldenstar laughed.

“Oh, that’s amazing!” Oddstripe gasped. “Will there be any left over? I’d love to have some for the herb stores!”

“We’ll have to see,” shrugged Goldenstar.

Aldertail shuffled her paws and asked, “Um, would it be okay if I came to the Cornerstones?”

“Of course,” Goldenstar nodded. “Everyone is welcome.”

“Okay,” she sighed in relief. “I just didn’t know since I wasn’t at the battle or anything.”

“We’ll go together,” Oddstripe smiled and she blushed profusely.

Across camp, Scorchplume emerged from Goldenstar’s den -- from their den -- and padded quickly to meet them.

“How did it go?” she asked with bated breath.

“Perfectly,” Goldenstar smiled, pressing a few licks to the crown of her beloved's head. “Sardine is dead and we didn’t lose a single cat. We’re going to the Cornerstones to celebrate and the kittypets are bringing catmint for everyone.”

“Really?” Ospreymask popped out of the warrior’s den with a bright smile on her face. “Is everybody going?”

“Seems like it,” Goldenstar said. “You’re welcome to come.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” purred the queen. “You coming, Pantherhaze?”

He shook his head, still sitting near the nursery. “I think I’ll stay with Slatepaw. Catmint doesn’t really affect me anyways.”

“Oh yeah,” Goldenstar frowned, remembering the time they had gone herb gathering as apprentices and everyone but him had been sent home for getting too carried away. “Well, let me know if you guys need anything here, okay?”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Barleybee smiled. “You guys go have fun.”

“You’re not coming?” Oddstripe asked.

“We’re too tired,” Sparrowsway said. “I’m sure Floodstrike will be there though.”

Scorchplume pressed close against Goldenstar’s side and said, “We should start going if we want to get there before the catnip runs out.”

“Oh, yeah?” chuckled Goldenstar, twining her tail with Scorch’s. “I didn’t take you for the type.”

“Well, it seems you don’t know everything about me,” smirked Scorch. “I used to be quite the party girl.” Goldenstar couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement in her belly at the thought.

“Ooh,” she purred, “I think I’d like to see that.”

“I’m sure you would,” Scorch gave an aloof toss of her head and started off towards the Cornerstones, running her tail flirtatiously under Goldenstar’s chin. Goldenstar swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and laughed nervously before darting to catch up. Finally, it seemed, the hardships were over and she could let loose with the woman she loved more than anything in the world.

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