#<- concepts that make me want to throw up all over myself

[infizero]

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING. in her pov cleo said “whats the worst that could happen, you could be alone forever” AND SCAR SAID “story of my life”

[jrueships]

something invokes the carnal rage in me when a grown man rages like a two-year old over a video game

[kavehater]

Chappel Roan saying she’s sad she’s demisexual and then there’s me being aroace as a whole like don’t you think I’m even more sad 😭

[myname-isnia]

Honestly I’d really like to make some kind of MLP AU or redesign/rewrite or whatever else of the sort because MLP was essentially my first fandom and it’s extremely nostalgic to me, but I’ve seen so many people do it already and have found myself physically incapable of producing something that isn’t blatantly copying what other people have done :/

[ellecdc]

I’ve been thinking about a Remus (or ig any ship that includes him?) x metamorphmagus!reader who is always turning into other people in order to mess with people. despite them being very good at acting and visually/audibly indistinguishable from their target, once the moon comes close and his senses are heightened Remus is able to recognize them from scent alone. I also think he’s observant enough that even when his senses are as normal as they can be, he is able to notice little ticks and habits that break through the disguise. I don’t think he would ruin their fun, observing and if he isn’t in pain even helping with their mischief.

It’s just such a cute little concept to me, and I think it could be fun to play with, so I would love to see if you can come up with a little Drabble or something about it! Thank you mother ❤️ I love confident and mischievous readers with quiet but enabling characters

this was a cute concept! thanks for the request! also, I didn't intend for this to be Potter!reader, but with the way the story went it ended up feeling like it had to be potter reader hahaha

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader who is a metamorphmagus [800 words]

CW: fem!reader, 'your mama' insults, talking about students getting it on in a broom closet

“Never thought I’d find myself happier to see this Black than the other one.” Barty Crouch Junior drawled as he sauntered into the library looking innocent for all intents and purposes - but Remus knew better.

“Sod off, Junior.” Sirius sneered back as he glared at the Slytherin from behind his book. 

“Oh, someone’s getting off, I can assure you.” He jeered; a mischievous sparkle shining in his eye giving Remus not nearly enough time to prepare for the coming theatrics. 

“Oh? Could you hear me and your mum last night?” Sirius replied haughtily, turning a page of his book for show. “I’ll try to make sure we’re quieter next time, but she’s a screamer.” 

Barty simply hummed as he dragged a finger across the back of a chair; expression glowing like he was simply loving this. “Are family members not off limits then, Black? Because if that’s the case, someone really ought to tell Reg and Potter that there's no need to be rutting against each other in the third floor broom closet like a couple of ne’er-do-wells.”

Sirius was standing in record time; his chair grating across the floors before landing with a thunk and his book (prop) laying long forgotten.

“You’re not serious.” Sirius spat menacingly, a true testament to how riled up he got over his brother and best friend (even though the two had been publicly dating for almost two months now) that he didn’t even bother censoring himself against the verb form of his name.

“Deadly.” Barty smirked, and that was all it took for Sirius to go racing off into the castle to cause a bigger scene than either Regulus or James had been prior to the announcement of their secret tryst. 

The library returned to its prior volume as Remus watched 'Barty' simply stare after the last place Sirius could be seen. 

“That’s not nice, dove.” Remus chided gently, though he didn’t bother hiding his smirk as he stared back down at his book.

“Whatever do you mean, Lupin?” You sneered back, but you were wearing a beaming smile that told him clearly you knew the ruse was up. 

“James has been trying very hard to make sure he isn’t throwing his relationship with Regulus in Sirius’ face.” Remus explained tiredly, though it was all for show. 

“And James has been making it very hard for me to not want to stab myself with a quill during quidditch practices.” You pouted as you took the seat across from him.

“All this over quidditch drills?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

You didn’t break his gaze nor the pout of your lips as you added “and he ate the last of my fizzing whizzbees.” 

Remus hummed in understanding. “An egregious crime, certainly.”

“Right? What would you have done if he’d eaten all your chocolate?”

“Nothing short of murder; he’d be out the dormitory window.”

“See, I knew you’d get it.” You replied with a smirk, though your eyes turned soft as you looked him over.

“Be nice to your brother.” He murmured quietly, earning a dramatic groan as you threw your head back in exasperation.

“I don’t have to be nice to him, he’s my brother.” 

“What would your mum say?” He asked as he leaned back in his chair and held his book against his lips to hide the smile on his face.

You groaned again and looked over at him nonplussed. “To be nice to my brother.” You offered back in monotone.

He lowered his book so you could see his beaming smile, causing you to launch forward in an attempt to swipe his book from him only for him to catch your wrist instead.

“How did you even know it was me? I thought I had the impression down pat.” You murmured quietly, face now inches from his.

“You certainly look like Junior.” Remus conceded as he gave you a once over. “But he would have never let that comment about his mum fly.”

You let out a bark of laughter that Remus knew to be only yours. “That’s true, I suppose. I’ll do better next time.”

Remus gave you a shake of his head in faux admonishment as he leaned closer to you. “I’ll always recognise my sweet girl.” He murmured, massaging the inside of your wrist that he was holding captive with his thumb. “I’d recognise you by smell alone.” 

Your gaze turned hungry as your eyes flit down to his lips and then back up again. 

But Remus pulled away before you could connect your lips to his.

“Do not kiss me as Barty Crouch Junior.” He deadpanned, causing you to let out raucous laughter that got you more than a few shush’s from surrounding tables before he watched you melt back into yourself.

Remus loved your mischief, but this was by far his favourite version of you.

[wonryllis]

after hours, i can be whatever you want me to be ⭑ ( lhs. )

⭑ FEATURING horrendously down down bad lee heeseung x kinda naive philophobic fem!reader. where heeseung has no intentions of escaping your cages, forever remaining under the spell of your love. ( ARCHIVE? )

⭑ GENRE & WARNINGS fluff, toxic situation, almost kissing, mildly suggestive WORDCOUNT 0.834k

she's crazy but i love her.

heeseung's steps are slow and calculated, eyes glued on your figure trying to make your way to his car. stumbling and wobbly in heels you (kind of) seem accustomed to, feet clicking against the pavement in a hasty stride. he's worried. you were out with friends past midnight on a weekday, called him all drunk to pick you up from the bar and now you are barely able to walk straight, ankle on the verge of twisting at any given moment but you wouldn't let him hold you. he's worried sick.

"angel please just hold onto me hm?" he pleads rushing over when you visibly slip on an uneven part, hands almost gripping around your waist as you manage to keep your balance, staggering back into his arms in a couple of steps.

"you! who are you!" your hands push against his chest as you turn around startled. there it goes, again! heeseung sighs knowing what's to come. it's the third time in the last fifteen minutes, going over this exact conversation word to word.

"it's heeseung, your cousin's friend and your friend," he makes sure to emphasize on 'your friend' trying to stop this before it gets further into the loop.

"where's my cousin?" you ask, looking around the rather empty parking lot.

"he working," heeseung's explanation is dry because he knows you'll cut him off before he can say anything more,"and why are you here?" just like that. he remembers the first time this happened, when you were actually sober and met him at your cousin brother: jay's workplace. you showed up out of nowhere, without any notice and jay was going bonkers at how he'll get you back home when he has the most important client waiting for him in the next room. heeseung hadn't thought much when he offered to drop you off, a favor for a friend that was all it was to him.

"because you called me, angel," but god was he wrong, for he swears the moment he laid his eyes on you he was a goner. you were too darn pretty to be just a favor. you were younger, a party girl always running out to frat and sorority gatherings, bars and clubs. often calling jay to pick you up to avoid letting your parents know of your shenanigans.

"why did i call you and not my cousin?" everytime he had wished it was him and not jay, even though ultimately he was the one who went. carrying your cute drunk ass to your mansion and getting you to your room as discreetly as possible. you are a rich girl, two worlds apart and heeseung has felt it in many ways than not.

"because i'm your cousin's friend and you know me well," heeseung never thought he'd ever be more than just your cousin's friend to you. at least he hopes he is more. you have done things with him that you'd definitely not do with just your cousin's friend. a space curtaining acquaintance and lover, he hangs dangerously cold and heedless.

"so where's my cousin?" between days left ghosted and nights you throw your arms around him he stands unsure of his place in your life. at times he feels you know he's the one who could treat you better than any of the guys you cry for. yet there are moments when there's this sturdy wall you build, holding him away for the sake of not losing him like others. afraid of love is what you refuse you are but heeseung knows your conceptions of it are a little too twisted, broken he dare say. and his love for you is so far and conflicted to the things you have experienced, he understands the lengths and the time it will take for you to recognize and accept him.

"you know what, i'm getting you in the car myself," in an instance his hands grip at the back of knees and the curve of your waist, hauling you up in his arms. he walks quick to his car parked at the far end, smiling through the constant pouty mumbles of yours. eyeing you every two seconds, not being able to resist that pretty face of yours.

it is absolutely not in him to ever resist that pretty face of yours, your pretty eyes and your pretty lips as they graze against his own in gentle brushes. arms looped around his neck and thighs resting on the soft matress of your bed, albeit on each side of his own, yet again. sitting on his lap, so close, bodies pressed. "heeseungie, please stay," your voice a sultry whisper of a whine, a naive vixen, if that's even a thing.

lee heeseung knows he will never have the power to refuse you, he will be whatever you want him to be for how ever long you will want him to be.

you make him crazy and he loves you for that.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @okwonyo @enhabooks @jjunae @criminalyun @enhacrumbsss @oddracha @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @mxxnintheskyreblogs

[star-stilinski]

stiles with virgin reader? maybe she's like insecure or like is just scared he'll look at her differently 😩😩 everytime i watch the eichen house basement scene i literally die because he is so sweet and gentle and GHRHHSHEHDH

okay so i actually have that written from before i deleted my blog... would you guys want me to write another?! i'll repost the one i have but this concept is really super fun to me and i like writing it a lot so... maybe you guys would want to see more?? anyway here's the old one!

☆

yep, stiles is perfect. dominant, but just to guide you. observant and overly educated (he once spent an all nighter researching female pleasure and orgasms. he stayed a virgin for a long time after, but at least he knew!). he wants you to feel good.

i feel like he had a conversation with allison once when she was really frustrated with scott where she basically ranted about how he was great in bed, really, but he sometimes got too excited and forgot about her until later. or his wearwolfness made him a bit rough. stiles just kinda stood there, but he was determined to keep that from being his reviews when he finally got laid. it was very educational.

set right before season 4.

you're reading up on the spanish mafia on your bed while stiles types away on his computer with one hand and breaks to texts scott with the other. he seems to be especially stimulated today.

"i think my excuse will be that we're camping." he mumbles randomly, setting his phone down face-up to take a swig from your water bottle. you frown. he smiles. "when we go get derek."

"for your dad?" you set the library book on the floor and scoot up on your bed, sitting back against the pillows.

"yeah. he's all worried i'm isolating myself after... everything. so he'll like that anyway. hey, scott invited us to the lake later tonight, wanna go?" your boyfriend talks so quick you almost get dizzy. that subject change was so stiles though, and seeing him as himself after those worrying days of the possessed, zombie-eyed shell of a man he was makes your chest feel fuzzy.

but at the mention of swimming, you glance away from him. you hadn’t been feeling super awesome about your body lately. It’s just… stiles is amazing, really, but he never says much about your looks and you’re scared he’s not into that part of you. It’s not like you need to be constantly hit on, but knowing that he wanted you in every way would be… well, it would make you feel better than you do.

so you hesitate, at the thought of being in a swimsuit in front of everyone. “uh, i dunno, i have a lot of homework.”

he laughs and his eyebrows shoot up. "what? we got ahead on, like, everything. did you fall behind again?”

"okay, first off, we did not get ahead on everything. we did everything due this week. you’re just used to waiting until the night before to rush through. second of all, i’m not really feeling the lake right now.”

“why not?” he frowns, tilting his head at you. you roll your neck and sigh, wishing you hadn’t said anything. It was so annoying to try and explain it.

“i mean…” you shift uncomfortably on your bed. “i don’t know. i’m just feeling weird lately.”

stiles stands, grabbing a stray pen to fiddle with as he stretches his legs, pacing your bedroom floor. "yeah, that's what you say, don't you? that you’re feeling ‘weird’.”

"you're weird." you deflect, watching him pace. he likes it when you do that, you both realized one day a long time ago when his hair was buzzed and you had braces. a lot has changed since then, but he still liked to know that you’re listening when he has to move around.

"and yet here you sit, after inviting me over to listen to me ramble." he teases back, throwing you a look before turning to walk the other side of the floor. he scans the pictures and posters on your wall, back turned to you. "seems like my weird is good weird and yours is bad weird."

you're thankful he isn't watching as you flush a light pink color in the cheeks. it's the stupidest stuff getting you flustered recently. the other day he said 'atta girl' to you and you were still blushing ten minutes later. kira actually thought you were sick. 

you know why. Part of you just wants to ask him, but a larger part of you assumes that -even as his girlfriend- he’ll be grossed out if you asked to have sex. He’s just not into you like that.

stiles swivels around to look at you, frowning curiously. "you went quiet."

"oh, um," you shift on the bed and fiddle with the hem of your shirt. he watches you do so with a look on his face before stepping closer to the edge of the bed while you scramble to remember what you were talking about. "your weird is tolerable weird."

he smirks and scoffs but it's kind of a laugh, one that makes your stomach swoop pleasantly. "what makes yours bad weird?"

"it’s nothing, sti’.” you fiddle with one of your stuffed animals, growing antsy under his gaze. “just thoughts.”

you feel the bed dip beside you as stiles sits, feeling his shoulder brush with yours. there's plenty of room on the bed. you know he did it on purpose.

"i like to know your thoughts.”

"yeah, well, sometimes i prefer to keep them in my head." you huff, still not looking at him. “and anyway, they’re just-”

"weird?" he interrupts and you look up at him. he's smirking, brows up, eyes sparkly.

you frown at his cockiness. you were going to say weird, but still. you can hear him silently asking you to elaborate.

"you’re not allowed to get all pitying, okay?" you feel yourself about to spill anyway, so you might as well tell him. it would usually take a lot more encouragement for you to say anything, but it's stiles and he's using his stupid pretty eyes on you and you trust him with your life. “lately i just feel kinda… just like, um, not great, i guess? i’m just scared i’m not doing enough for you, or something’s wrong with me because you never say anything about my looks and i dont need you to, but if you’re unsatisfied i want to change that because i want you to be happy in every area to do with me.”

stiles is silent for a moment. you look up and catch him look away from you. he frowns and looks back, meeting your gaze head on.

"that's not weird.” he says, quietly, brows upturned. “you… wow, you’re dense.”

you laugh abruptly at the jab stiles pulled, embarrassed. "stiles! I’m not upset or anything, i just dont want you to not be into the way i look. which might be unrealistic, i guess. not everyone is going to be physically attracted to me. that's fine."

"you say that a lot." his tone drops to something more thoughtful. you give him a face and tilt your head.

"what? no i don't."

"yeah, you do. 'oh, well, lydia's the beauty out of all of us anyway.' 'malia, you should dance with kira to blend in. that would be casual and guys will find you two hot, anyway.' 'that isn't my color.' 'i'm breaking out.' 'i'm bloated.' 'i don't think anyone would want to see me in something that revealing.'"

you feel heat crawl up your neck as he quotes stuff you've said the past few weeks. you scramble to make him wrong. "stiles, literally all of those were different sentences."

"no, they were not." he shifts, like he's revving up to explain something. you press yourself against the pillows to create space between you two. he notices. "you keep saying you think you're ugly. just the other day, a girl you didn't even know came up to you and said you were pretty and when she walked away you said she was lying. i remember, you were convinced. thought it was just to be nice because you had let her cut you in line for drinks. it was at the movies."

you look away from him, narrowing your eyes. you're embarrassed right now, and he knows. why isn't he stopping? "she was lying, stiles. you're a guy, you can't see that stuff like girls do."

"i'm a guy, i'm not blind." he gets hotter in his voice. both in tone and in attractiveness, getting sterner. saying 'i'm right' without saying it. "are you blind? you're so pretty. like, objectively."

"stiles, can you drop this? I shouldn’t have said anything." you curl in on yourself, drawing your knees up to hide your body. you feel so exposed, like he tugged the part of you out that you don't really like to talk about.

stiles goes soft. like a flip being switched, he loses his fight and shifts to face you better, placing a hand on your knee. "hey, i'm sorry."

you desperately want to go back to when he was a safe distance away and pacing your room and teasing you. you hate it when you ruin the mood with your feelings. you hate how much you love it when he touches you, especially since he'd never want you the way that you want him.

"it's fine, i promise." you claw around your brain for something to change the subject, but you feel it short circuit as stiles' hand begins to hold your cheek. he lifts your chin to look at him. you feel your cheeks flame hot and your whole body warm at his touch. you stare at him as you feel your resolve practically melt away.

"do you think you're pretty?" he asks, curiously. like you're something he doesn't fully understand yet, but he's on his way and he's getting excited to speed up the process. it makes you nervous.

"umm... i don't know..." you don't think so. you're very confident that you're ugly. but telling stiles that is letting him win. and you don't know what you'll do with a cocky stiles when he's already ballsy enough to corner you like he is now.

"i do." he says with finality. stiles gets closer and his hand leaves your cheek, only to part your legs gently and crawl in between them. "i think you’re hot. and pretty. and when you focus you nibble your lip and it kinda makes me want to pin you to the nearest flat surface and eat you out.”

now your legs are on either side of stiles and he's leaning over you, eyes roaming over your face hungrily. you stutter dumbly for a moment, face flushed and feeling like a cornered bunny getting stared down by a wolf. his scent becomes stronger and you resist the urge to ask him to do just that, opting instead for feeling like a gross creep and fretting if you’ve shaved well enough.

"you don’t have to say that..." you trail off, still flustered at stiles' boldness. "i just didn't really know what you thought about my looks, i guess. b-but i guess that’s kinda conceited, huh?" you laugh weakly at your joke. stiles doesn't laugh at all. instead, he watches you quietly for a moment, a hand landing on your knee again.

"i don’t say anything because i never want you to feel uncomfortable." he states breathily. you squirm under him as he leans forward, a determined look in his eyes. “do you want me to tell you what i think about you?”

"stiles, c'mon." you turn your head away. maybe you can resist this question by acting pathetic. it's not really working, and stiles just gently guides your chin so that you're looking at him again. he knows the answer. he kinda has to, doesn't he? otherwise he wouldn't be doing this.

"I want to hear you say it." he looks into your eyes like it would actually literally kill him if you said no. you feel that rush you get when he talks like this, all quiet and deep like he's breathless. and despite you thinking that stiles thought of you as a low-physicality girlfriend, you find yourself nodding slightly.

"yes, i do."

stiles sighs out like you just healed every one of his wounds and leans forward, shifting himself so that he's propped on his hands and knees above you. one hand moves to your waist and the other holds his weight as he leans down.

the kiss sends a spark down your spine. as he goes back in again, kissing you harder, deeper, gently guiding your mouth open, you think it's better than any other kiss you've experienced. his hand inches your shirt up to reveal your stomach and he pulls back.

"you're beautiful. okay? i feel like you're not hearing me. i want you to see it." he says, still upset about that. you're still a bit flustered by the quick change of events, so you don’t respond.

he frowns at your lack of response but it softens as your hands slide onto his neck, pulling him down again. he smiles and goes back in for another kiss.

this one's even more than the last. stiles' tongue... well, it works. that's all you can describe as he makes you gasp in surprised pleasure from just a kiss. you can feel his slightly cocky smirk as he kisses again, but it gets lost when you rake your nails lightly against the back of his neck. he manuvers you both further down the bed so you're laying more comfotably and kisses you deeply again, like he can't get enough. 

he presses his knee up against your core as you kiss and it sends a pulse of pleasure up your body, making you pinch your brows. stiles pulls back abruptly, and you're both panting. you can see your spit making his lips glisten prettily and you want to hide under the covers and pull him back into you at the same time.

"hey," stiles dawns a little smile. it's sweet, and when he tugs at the hem of your shirt gently your heart flutters. "can i take this off?"

you pause at that. if he takes your shirt off, he'll have to see you shirtless. you didn't wear a nice bra today, just the grey t-shirt bra you got at walmart. but he wants to see you shirtless. and you want to see him shirtless.

then again, you’re no pornstar-level body. maybe stiles will be disappointed. or laugh. no, no, he won’t laugh. but if he doesn’t like it, he won’t say anything, and you’ll be stuck wondering what he’s thinking again...

"i can hear you overthinking, you know." stiles' big palm lands on your bare waist, his thumb rubbing your skin softly. "we can stop if you want."

you meet his eyes. he looks like he really means it, like he'll pretend none of this happened if you asked. his hand leaves your waist, cups your cheek, and his thumb presses against your bottom lip softly. you breathe in. "i don't want to stop."

he nods, smiling. it's crooked and you almost giggle because of course stiles is excited to keep making out. and then his gaze shifts and he takes his hand off your cheek to tug on your shirt again. his brows lift in question.

"uhm, yeah." you nibble your lip. fuck it. "take it off."

"that was not enthusiastic enough."

"i-?! don't blame me if you don't like what you see! i just don't want you to be unimpressed!" you squeak defensively. he laughs and pulls you up just enough to lift your shirt off.

"you can be so obtuse sometimes." he mumbles as he tosses your shirt out of the way. you're propped up on your forearms when he turns back around and you can practically hear the breaks in his brain screech to a halt.

his eyes roam your body in a way that makes you flush and his hands aren't much better, spreading over your now-exposed middle like they have a mind of their own. he lets out a breath and blinks a few times, one hand sliding up to cup your bra. “s’ this okay?”

you swallow and nod. it is. really. you like the way stiles’ hands feel on you and how his eyes track over you like he wants to devour you but doesn’t want to hurt you. you like how eager he is to touch you. it makes you feel like maybe he really wants to.

he leans over you and presses a kiss to your neck. you tilt your head back on instinct as he grows more persistent, pressing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and nibbling your neck to pull a sound out of you. you gasp when he nibbles your earlobe and he reacts positively, hands getting more confident as he cups your breasts or you waist or whatever he can get ahold of.

you feel him press his knee up against you again and it makes you jolt momentarily. your thoughts are getting hazier, you feel yourself relaxing every second you spend underneath him. his hand travels up your back and finds your bra clasp and he kisses down your collarbone as he undoes it.

“you’re so pretty.” he starts, pulling back. you blink up at him as he sits over you. “you are, I don’t care what you think. I can’t believe you’re so convinced otherwise.”

he pauses, giving you time to reject him or tell him to stop or do anything. instead, you tug at his shirt, pulling it up.

he takes it off immediately and you press your hands against his bare skin. “stiles, i’ve never done anything before. I’m not gonna be good.”

he scoffs and shakes his head, toying with your loose bra strap. it’s still on, unclasped. he’s waiting.

“you’re doing so good right now, idiot.” he hums affectionately as he traces the seam of your bra, fingers brushing your breast. you suck in a breath. he watches your chest rise. “i’ve, um, thought about this before. a lot. and it’s ten times better having you under me than daydreaming about it.”

you blush at that. he traces the underside of your breast, fingers slipping under your bra to feel your skin. “I want to make you feel good.” he whispers, meeting your eyes. you nod slowly, fingers running along his abdomen as you admire him.

“you do?” you ask, as if he wasn’t practically pinning you to the bed already. he nods eagerly and it spurs you on. you shift, slowly pulling your bra off. he helps you and tosses it away with your shirt, but his eyes never leave you. instead, they dart all over your chest, hands cupping your tits. he sighs and his thumbs swipe over your pebbling nipples, making you squeak in shock.

“you’re so beautiful. ‘m gonna make you believe it, okay?” he says with finality, maneuvering so that he can kiss your breasts. you gasp when his tongue flicks over your nipple and he pulls up just to envelop your mouth. “you sound so pretty. just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

you’re embarrassed at how easy it is for you to make noise and how eager you are to listen to his instructions. you sink into the pillows and let your eyes flutter shut as stiles kisses you. it's soft and slow, but it makes you a puddle anyway.

stiles gets the both of you down to your underwear shortly after. his hands are incessantly gentle and when he does something new he leaves a sort of gap for you to tell him to stop.

you never do.

he's mouthing at your neck when he first presses his long fingers against your clothed clit, and you sigh lightly in relief. the pressure was more than enough and you had completely soaked through your panties anyway. he pulls away from your neck to watch you as he rubs a slow circle against your nerves, humming in approval when your lips part and your brows pinch.

"does that feel good?" he questions quietly, still rolling a circle against you with his middle finger. you nod and hear him swallow as his eyes roam from your exposed tits to your wet spot and everywhere in between, locking eyes with you at the end.

"i can't wait to hear you. you're gonna sound so good." he mumbles, mostly to himself as he slowly pulls your panties off. you whine in embarrassment and cover your face with your hand.

"don't say stuff like that!" you huff, scrubbing your face like it will make the blushing subside. "you're getting your hopes up."

"jesus christ." he groans, and it sounds super fucking hot. you peek through your fingers and see him looking at you like you've wounded him. "you've exceeded every single one of my very high hopes i've been getting off to since freshman year so far. you-i mean, look at what you're doing to me."

he gently takes the hand you're using to cover your face and guides it against his bulge. he's hard as a rock, and when you press your hand against him he tilts his head back and sighs out. "seriously, you're so gorgeous. and you're a great kisser. you're doing so good. i mean..."

with your panties off and him in between your legs, he has easy access as he slides two fingers through your slick. you can both hear it in the quiet of the room and you feel that heat rush of embarrassment again, eyes widening as he literally moans. "you're so wet. just for me."

and as he presses his finger to your clit, it feels ten times better than it did with your panties on. you gasp and your eyes flutter closed as you whimper "god," completely on accident. his hands aren't amazingly skillful, but the way he watches your reactions and tweaks his performance, fucking a finger into you and keeping his pace on your bundle of nerves-it's almost hotter than a guy who isn't looking to improve, because stiles is adjusting things to your preference. not just what every woman would generally like.

"how's it feel, pretty girl?" he hums against your stomach, kissing down your body. you don't know what the hell he's doing but most of your mental focus is on how stiles is making you feel, anyway.

"feels good, sti'," you gasp, feeling his mouth against your thigh. he moans when you say his name before sucking a hickey onto your inner thigh. your eyes snap open and you prop yourself up to look at him, eyes wide. "are you leaving a mark?"

stiles looks up at you, and then at your neck, and then your tits. he pulls away from your skin slowly and mumbles "uhm..."

"whatever, just... don't make it ugly. hickeys can look so weird." you flop back against the pillows and sigh, but your thoughts are cut short as stiles-

"oh, fuck," you moan, rolling your hips against stiles' tongue unconsciously as he presses his mouth on your clit. he flicks his tongue and you gasp out another moan, hips lifting.

his big hands land on your bare hips and press them back down, holding them there as he looks up at you. meanwhile, his tongue is laying claim on you in a way no one ever has, and he's making you feel better than you ever have. you sit up on your forearms to watch him and he sucks on your clit, making your eyes roll back. "stiles, oh god, that feels really good-"

he moans at your noises, mouth moving with more fervor against you, hands pulling you closer to him. he's doing everything perfectly, or so you thought, until he pulls a hand away from your hip and presses two fingers inside of you. it's a stretch, but it feels amazing, and your brain is fried as you feel yourself hurtling towards that edge-

and then he pulls back.

you look down at the speed of light, glaring at him on accident. "wha-? why-?"

his eyes are dark, something you haven't seen in them before. his mouth is covered in your arousal and he's sitting up, leaning over you. "i really want you to finish with me inside you. does... is that...?"

your previous annoyance falls away and you bob your head enthusiastically. "yeah. yes. please."

he grins and licks some of your slick off of his lips before kissing you sweetly. when he pulls back, you look down to take his boxers off but realize he took them off already. you also realize you've never seen stiles' dick before.

"your staring is making me nervous." he teases, rubbing your thigh. you blink and look back up at him, smiling sheepishly. he smiles back, and it's crooked, and he's tilting his head and panting and sometimes his eyes are wandering to your tits before snapping back up to your eyes. and.

"you're the hottest guy in the whole world, i think." you hum, reaching up to cup his cheek. his eyes go wide and he laughs, kissing your palm.

"is my dick that big?"

"not what i meant."

"it could be."

you laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. "'s it gonna hurt?"

his eyes go soft, a bit worried. "proabably for a second, but we'll go at your pace so you can stretch out properly, and if it's too much i can just finish the way i started, kay?"

you nod. stiles would never, ever hurt you. and with the way he's looking at you and how he moans when you feel good and how his hands always have to find a way to pleasure you... something in you switches and you realize he really wants you to like this. that he's being honest when he says he's thought about it a lot.

so as he quickly rolls on a condom (which included him admitting that he usually grabs one before he leaves to see you) and presses into you -slowly, slowly- you try your best to relax against the pillows. it's not unbearable, but you have to ask him to pause sometimes. he always does, and layers praises on top of each other while he does it.

"you're doing so well. just breathe, okay? just like that. holy shit, you feel amazing- b-but how do you feel? you alright?" he rambles halfway inside. you nod, breathing deeply.

"it actually feels... good..." you close your eyes and pull on his waist, urging him forward slowly. he bottoms our and gasps out a moan at the same time you do, feeling him reach the spot you're never able to. his hand snakes in between the two of you and presses against your clit. you gasp out his name, tilting your head back. it's almost too much.

almost.

as you urge him to move, he presses slow circles against your bundle of nerves and kisses any patch of your bare skin he can get ahold of.

"just relax, baby- fuck, god, you know how may times i've thought about this?" he pulls out slowly and pushes back in, and all of his stimulating mixed with his moans and his words... he's doing a good fucking job, that's for sure.

you moan when he moves a little quicker, gasping. he presses his tongue into your open mouth and kisses you sloppily, going a bit faster with every thrust. you whine when he flicks your clit almost crudely, pressing your head back against the mattress and gasping, "faster, sti'"

he obeys without further encouragement, snapping his hips a little quicker than comfortable. you feel your body adjust and watch stiles as he leans back to admire you.

his eyes rake over you, one hand cupping your breast and kneading it softly. he lets out a higher pitched moan than you've heard from him when he sees the point where your bodies connect, slowing his thrusts just to watch. "you're perfect, i swear to god."

you can't respond, not when he's already leaning down to overstimulate your nipples. your brain feels like it's in the other room and has been replaced with stiles' hands, almost solely focused on his kneading of your tits and his circling of your clit. his mouth makes its way back up your neck and he kisses you again, still with very little concern for the proprieties of it.

it's sudden, the feeling that crawls up on you as his hips snap quicker and praise falls from his mouth in between kisses. you gasp for air and tug his head back by pulling his hair, causing a loud moan from him that you'll have to unpack later. you're arching your back, whimpering "faster, faster," squeezing your eyes shut as you feel that sweet release low in your belly. he speeds up his hips, but more importantly his fingers on your clit. your vision goes white for a split second as you cry out, chanting his name like a prayer. you hear him moaning too, and it only helps you as he rides you through your orgasm.

"holy shit," you gasp as you come down. he nods, pulling out of you carefully, and you both lock eyes. you're smiling and he's kissing you and everything feels kind of perfect for a split second. then you remember him, and feel like an idiot. "oh, did you, i totally forgot, did you-"

"don't worry," he laughs sheepishly and glances away from you. "i did. it was, um, when you pulled me away from kissing you."

"when i pulled your hair?" you ask incredulously. he buries his face into your neck and groans.

"maybe we should focus on you again." he kisses up your neck and all over your face. "you did so good, you're so perfect and pretty and oh my god you thought i wasn't attracted to you. you're so out of it sometimes."

"stop insulting me! you never said anything!" you defend, slapping his shoulder. he laughs and cups your face.

"i'm going to say every thought i have now. okay?"

"i feel like this isn't going to end well..."

he grins mischievously. "you look so good when you're cumming. let me make you make that face again?"

you close your eyes and sigh. "yeah, i knew it. this is going to be the death of me."

he laughs, loudly, excitedly, and kisses you. "it's funny how you think death will help. i bet you'd be a sexy ghost. oh, fuck, now i'm thinking about that. yep, it's hot."

you shout and push him off of you, laughing.

☆

when i wrote this originally, i wasn't super happy with it. even now i'm like... ehhh.... i dunno.... so if you guys want more of stiles with virgin/inexperienced reader, i have a lot of ideas and would totally post some if given the 'okay' from my fellow stiles lovers! let me know!!

(please say you want more because i want to make more lowkey tho just lowkey like idec but please)

[stormberry-12]

the pogues/ESPECIALLY JJ would protect innocent!reader SO MUCH. like she could be the youngest or something and they would go back for her (for ex. when they had to leave jb in s3). anyways jj would so definitely say something like, “you’re like their little sister, but you’re MY girl.” yk

my woman ~ jj maybank x reader

Ahh yes, I totally agree, and I LOVE the innocent!reader and JJ trope>>>

pairing: jj x innocent!fem!reader

warnings: slight language, reader in danger, mega fluff.

notes: lowercase intended, this was made late at night and not rlly edited srry if its bad lmao, not from season 3 but a close concept. :)

you shifted around and felt the sun on your face as your eyes fluttered open. you were in the twinkie bumping along a winding road, clinging onto jj, who was sitting in his seat, like a koala. or as jay called it, "the front pack", it was like a piggyback but on his front because he always wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay.

you shifted your legs around his torso and lifted your head from the crook of his neck.

"hiya, cupcake," he whispered softly, taking one of his arms that was wrapped around you and moving it so he could brush strands of hair from out of your eyes. "good nap?"

you nodded, wiping the sleep from your eyes, and he smiled. you suddenly recalled how you had gotten here and relief washed over you.

you were running through alleyways on the cut, you felt betrayed. where had the pogues gone? they were there with you five seconds ago and now you were running away from those bloody square groupers alone.

over by the pogues, jj was having a mental breakdown, "where did she go man?"

"damn it!" john b exclaimed."pope, i thought she was behind you when we cut down this way!

"we have to go back for her-" jj houghed.

"i don't know jay..."

"no... no. we have to." he held his hat in one hand and ran the other through his hair in distress.

"he's right, we have to." pope agreed.

"come on man, we finally lost those guys and now you want to follow em?" john b sighed.

"jb you of all people should understand, she's like a little sister to you man! she's still only 16 and this kind of stuff scares the shit out of her, i can't do that to her guys-"

"john b we're going after her," kie pleaded.

"god! we're wasting time, i'm gonna go after her, even if i have to do it by myself!" jj ran off in your last seen direction. john b gave in and followed along with the rest of the pogues, they all knew jj was right, and their group wouldn't survive without you.

as you continued to run, blood pumping through your ears, you looked for the best spot to hide behind, trying to throw them off. you slid behind a large dumpster and listened as the sets of footsteps of the two men ran past you.

you waited a moment, calming your breathing before you moved from behind the bin. you jumped as the footsteps came back in your direction, but instead of those square groupers, it was jj and the pogues.

"y/n!" j sighed in relief scooping you up into his arms. "I'm so sorry, that will never happen again-"

you just stood there too exhausted to complain, your face buried in his chest. john b brought the twinkie around the corner and you all piled in, driving off into the night.

"you came back for me," you smiled at your boyfriend wrapping your arms around his neck, still facing him on his lap.

"of course," jj said. "you know you're like their little sister, we honestly would fall apart without you... and your my girl."

"your girl?" you giggled.

"my girl, my woman, my soulmate." he repeated smoothly pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes. "you sure you're okay?"

"yeah," you said, leaning into his touch, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. "perfect,"

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's so frustrating is how often the arguments against us are actually happening to us. we said - you need to watch out, this will evolve into allowing fascism into legal statute. and we were told: you're a sensitive snowflake. you're annoying and stupid and have no concept of reality. nobody really believes that stuff.

but it's indoctrination for kids to even see queer people. it's grooming for kids to even be around queer people. it's disgusting to even put rainbows on kids clothes. it's inappropriate, shameful, still-an-argument. like any of this is new - we know already. for you, even seeing someone unashamed is the same thing as "forcing" it onto you. because god-forbid you confront any internal thought you have. because god-forbid you practice empathy. rage is better, i guess. it keeps you pretty.

this has always been the way of some people - a while ago, it would have been "sinful" for my white mom to marry my hispanic dad. once, in the year of our lord 2015, someone told me that "mutts" deserve a woodchipper. that one particular insult stayed with me - not because it was the first or last, but because there was something so unbelievably violent about it that i couldn't figure out how to hold it. the idea that someone is so assured of their bigotry and rage that they would paint this kind of a picture. even jokingly, even with the anonymity of the internet, it kind of centered things for me. a sense that, for some people, their rage burned so unimaginably large that it blocked even the basic fact of my humanity.

at one point, while i still had enough fire in me to get into long arguments, one of the bigots i was "debating" (being harassed by) said: to be honest, it's about the sex, not the love. between you, me, and the four walls of this blue hellsite, i actually didn't really care for "love is love" as the slogan of our community. it seemed so placid, so gentle, so ally-focused. where was the vitriol? where was the hours i spent agonizing over myself? where was the quiet moments of my life, filled with the sound of other people's hatred? this static that settles over everything; even for the action of holding her hand.

the world is unfair. i am an adult, and without the veneer and small-pond syndrome of my teenage years, the slogan has started sounding more desperate. the more places i went, the more people i met. love is love. love is defending him on a rooftop bar. the drink she throws at me goes down into my shoes while i stand there, wishing i had a better retort than what the fuck. love is both of us, keeping our heads down, the black SUV full of frat boys (?) pulled up next to us, howling, for five whole blocks, until we both gave up and had to stick our bare legs into the thicket by the side of the road, giving over into tick country rather than let it go on any longer. love is a lazy spring afternoon, my hand on her belly, the fan spinning overhead. did you hear the whole thing about target?

did you hear about being the target? that's a fun little parallel, isn't it. it almost feels like the game that-is-about-me is being played without-my-participation. someone wants to set fire to my life, and i have to wait for a response from a capitalist institution. i am watching a tiktok where a white woman under white lights complains about adult swimsuits, even though i think a lot of people would benefit from having swimming options that are not "instagram-inspired bikini" or "impossible to move in but otherwise pretty".

sometimes it just seems so fucking stupid. like, just to check, the rage you feel and the hatred - you could really just avoid all of that by minding your fucking business. sometimes (and this is true): it's not about you, and people don't need your permission. like, i don't understand any obsession with sports, but it seems to make other people happy. american football literally results in grievous bodily injury - and yet there are onesies for babies that say future quarterback. i personally don't love it, so i just don't buy that stuff. i walk by it, and don't let it bother me. there have been so, so, so many times that i was told - "so what if he's a little bit homophobic, if you don't like him, don't watch his movies." "so what if they fired her. don't buy their product." "so what if they wouldn't make a rainbow cake. just don't support them."

sometimes i feel the meaning of it scud against my body, an orca whale inside of me, threatening the boat. it is too large to see from my place; this shadow of a thing that dwarfs my petty other-concerns. i need to find a dress for an event, and florida is passing more anti-gay legislation. i need to text my friend back and confirm our plans, and someone is throwing beer bottles to the floor in a walmart because a different case had rainbows on them. it is a long fall, if i look down into it; this sense like the bottom doesn't exist. like i have only ever dipped my toes in.

sometimes i am unbelievably tired of talking about it. it feels like it has become too trite in my own poetry - queer writer complains about the state of the world! how original! - and then something else happens, and i am here again. i remember that it isn't a moment. i remember it isn't a scattered population of cartoon evil-doers, intent on world domination from behind handlebar mustaches. it is a concerted effort of real people with real power who really-do want to see my end. it is a lifetime of dodging the beercan as it sails out of the back of the van. it is a lifetime of not-kissing once we leave the apartment. it is a lifetime of watching someone protest our existence and then, very slowly, giving them the finger. it is a lifetime of holding my friends' hands and hearing the same agony in their life that i lived through. it is us, together, our faces turned upwards, the night sky so vast, milky way overhead like a lacework zipper.

it is a lifetime of staring down woodchippers.

[lovexjoe]

Unspoken

Part 1 

Synopsis: Jack and Y/N have been best friend for years. She recently ended her 2 year relationship, due to moving to Atlanta for a better job opportunity. What’s going to happen when she stays with Jack for a week ?

Warning: fluffy, angst?, language and smut🧎🏽‍♀️

Y/N POV 

Great!!! I finally found an apartment for myself, but I have to stay at a hotel for a week due to maintenance. I sighed as I begin to search the internet for a hotel suitable to my needs. Currently I’m at Jack’s house, cause he offered to let me stay the weekend as I sorted myself out. Moving to a new state is draining. I left a lot of my things back home as my mom said it’s good to just start fresh. So I packed what I needed and hopped on the plane. I left so much behind, even my 2 year relationship. Surprisingly, I’m okay and even happier that it ended. There wasn’t a spark between us. He treated me well, but the relationship over all was boring. I guess I kept it going for so long, because it was better than being alone. 

“Alright what’s got you so stress? You been glue to the computer since you woke up” Jack says as he sits down next to me on the couch. 

“The apartment won't be ready for another week and I need to find a hotel beca-” 

“Hell no! Come on, you know you can stay here till it’s ready. I’m not taking no for an answer either. Now can you stop stressing before you explode. That vein on your forehead is serious” He starts his usual teasing. I laughed and playfully shoved him. 

Arguing with him was useless. It was his way or no way. I finally close my laptop and enjoyed whatever tv show he was currently hooked on. He stretched out his left arm and placed it on the back on the couch. I crawl into my usual spot: snuggled up with a blanket. 

“I missed you. I know you’re stressed but I’m happy to finally spend some time with you this week.” Jack says honestly. You were taken aback but also happy as well to be here with him.

“Me too”

Jack’s POV

She takes her usual spot on the opposite end of the couch, I so badly want to pull her close to me. As selfish as it sounds I hope her apartment takes an extra week so she could stay longer. And those god damn PJs she wears is gonna end me. She could wear a turtleneck and I’d probably still have the same reaction. 

I had met her through Druski as she was working with him for a while on video concepts and managing his social media. As soon as they linked up, she got his account to gain a million followers within a month. Thats why Jack put his full trust in her when it came to his social media. He’ll give her a heart attack here or there when he posts some random video of him trying to dance. Keyword is try because he looks like he’s glitching half the time. 

~~~~~

They indulge in a few episodes together before both of their stomachs start grumbling. Jack grabs his phone to open up UberEats. She gives him an insane look. 

“Jack you already ordered UberEats for breakfast, do you ever actually cook?” She arched her brows at him and he just looks at her cause lowkey she ate him up with that one. 

Oh yea forgot to mention, she got attitude that could last a lifetime and he fucking loved it. 

“You know I can’t cook!” He tried to justify but she’s already up and headed to the kitchen scanning the pantry and fridge for a simple meal. 

“Alright since you insist on me staying here for a week, you have to learn how to cook to at least survive.” She points the wooden spoon at him which causes him to laugh and throw his hands up in the air. 

“Goddamn Gordon Ramsey when did you even grab that!?” 

“Mmm don’t worry about that, give me a cutting board and knife stat! We making the world’s simplest meal. Pasta!” 

Pasta? Yeah no, he has spent his entire life over and under cooking pasta noodles. He watches her work the kitchen like a natural, pulling out ingredients he didn’t know what was what but he  tried his hardest to pay attention. She started with washing, then cutting then cooking. When it started to heat up in the kitchen, she tossed her hair up in a messy bun and in that moment Jack swore his heart could burst outta his chest.  He was trying his best not to stare inappropriately, but she was down right beautiful. 

Her ex was an idiot for letting her out of his sight, but he had to thank him because he’s not letting this chance pass up. There’s been multiple times throughout their friendship that her previous relationship and his hookups were not too fond of what they had. Which caused a few months of silence here and there. It use to kill him that he couldn’t reach out to her or hear her voice. She’s the reason why most of his hookups never lasted. Even during sex he wasn’t fully present, always distracted. 

As she finished up the tomato basil pasta, she turns around bumping into Jack not realizing he was so close to her. She felt so small around him, he looks down at her and smiles. 

“Hi” he says as he looks into her green hazel eyes that complimented her tan skin. 

“Hi…” she wish he would just kiss her, but she probably wasn’t what he even wanted. This man has the whole world at his feet. Why would he want her? They both stood there for a few extra seconds, just admiring their favorite features of the other. 

He swore she bite her lip 

She swore he was staring at her lips 

Kiss me already they both thought.

The sizzle of the pot reminded her she needed salt, so she purposely pushes up against him to grab the salt 

“Excuuuuseee me” she says innocently causing him to blush. 

“Smell yummy, thank you seriously” He says as she hands him his plate. As she makes her plate last, but Jack grabs it and heads over to the dinner table. Pulling out her seat for her, she happily sits as he grabs them some wine. 

“Oh my god, this is amazing!” He hums enjoying all the flavors that melt in his mouth. She’s really getting brownie points right now cause once his tummy is full he is a happy camper. 

This could be them, she thought. If only he wanted her. 

This could be them, he thought. If only she wanted him. 

After a few glasses of wine and enjoying the food together. Jack knew she was gonna crave something sweet because anytime he took her out dessert was always a must. He took her plate and nods his head for her to follow him.  

He grabs a bowl, vanilla ice cream, sprinkles, chocolate drizzle and whipped cream. Instantly her smile appears on her face, he still remembers her favorite toppings. How could he not though? He remembers everything about her. They both assisted each other is building the sundae. 

“Time for the finale!! Whipped cream!” She shakes it up and hands it to him to do the honors. Jack holds down the nozzle but it was stuck. He shook it one more time confused cause he literally just bought it when he told Y/N to stay at his crib. Yes he fully stocked the house and made sure it was squeaky clean before she got there. He even went to target and Ulta and stocked up on products she’d like or needed for the guest room. 

“This thing is stupid!” He holds the nozzle facing Y/N and it shoots out straight onto her neck and face. They both looked shock but Jack was trying so hard to hold his laughter in. 

“Oh you little shit!” They both busted into laughter. 

The wine definitely taking effect as laughter filled the air. Their stomach hurting so much from being full and the happiness that overcame them. Grabbing a towel, Jack pulls her close and the two still having the giggles. She wasn’t in control anymore because she couldn’t believe the words that was escaping her mouth. 

“Lick it off of me….” Jack freezes. Is he dreaming? Is she fucking with him? Wouldn’t be a nice joke but the way she was looking at him she’s lucky she doesn’t get bent over this island right now. 

“Are you sure?” He looks into her eyes wanting to confirm because if he starts god only knows if he’ll have the strength to stop. 

“Yea….make me your dessert.” She wipes some whipped cream off her neck slipping her finger in his mouth to suck it off. The need growing between them as she felt his tongue lick her finger dry. His lips meeting her neck, licking up all whipped cream on her as her moans escape her mouth. 

Fuck. He thought this was it, she’s gonna get eaten up tonight, he had to taste her. He was hungry for it. His hands caressing her face, as their lips finally meet. They both dreamt of this moment endless amount of times, but nothing….nothing could compare how this really felt. The little sounds she makes got him bricked up and aching. It’s almost as if she knew what effect she had on him cause her hand begins to palm him through his joggers. He groans into her mouth, causing a certain wetness to form in her panties. She never knew Jack had an aggressive side to him, she always teased him of being vanilla. 

He picks her up and sets her onto the island. Slipping her shorts off and spreading her legs. No panties? Fuck, her pussy glistened from her wetness under the lights. She closed her legs, starting to feel shy. 

“Nuh uh, open those legs for me. Lemme see that pretty pussy.” Oh god she loves this. He gets on his knees, kissing her lips, taking in her scent causing her hips to buck. 

“Jaack please don’t tease,” she feels his breath on her as he laughs, knowing exactly what he was doing. He takes her clit into his mouth, slowly sucking and swirling his tongue. He was so fucking handsome and with your pussy in his mouth made him even hotter. Working his tongue up and down your folds, you lift you hips slightly to ride his face. 

Fuck fuck fuck 

Jack couldn’t believe how fucking beautiful you looked under the island lights. Everything about you just amazed him. He works his movement with yours as he sees your body tensing up. 

“Fuck Jack, I’m- fuck I’m gonna cum!” In that moment he slips two of his fingers in, curving them upwards pumping them in and out. The only thing that could be heard was your cries and the wetness of your pussy. His fingers were big and long you could only imagine what he’ll stretch you out to. He pulls you close to him, placing little kisses along your cheek and neck. He lets you ride out your orgasm from his fingers. He only just begun with you, but he notices the slight sheen of sweat that covered your body. 

“You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted you.” He places a soft kiss on her lips. 

“Jack I need you, please.” She reaches into his jogger to pull him out. His tip already leaking with precum. Teasing him, she rubs his length between her wet folds causing him to groan. The lust that filled both of their eyes as they watch his tip play with her clit. Jack slipped in not being able to handle it anymore. 

Y/N lets out a soft cry not realizing how big he really was. Her back was cold against the marbled island, but the way Jack started pounding into her she couldn’t possibly give a fuck about anything 

“Jaackkk” she cries out throwing her head back

“I know it’s big baby, you can take it. Be good for me and take it.” His thumb starts to rub circles on her clit as he continues his ruthless thrusting. She was drunk off of his fucking. Not a single thought was running through her head besides the fact that he felt so fucking good and was deep.

“Look at you. Such a good fucking girl taking me. So beautiful baby.” He whispers his praises into her ear, till he feels her clenching him tightly. His free hand grabs the back of her hair firmly to make sure he was looking at him as she cums. 

“Mmm fuck, where do you want it?” She better answer quick cause those hazel eyes looked fucked out and he could barely hold on. 

“Inside me! P-please please” 

Jesus Christ 

He nods as he increases his speed, hitting a new spot for her causing her to come undone. She couldn’t even stop the babbling. 

“I love you I-I love you Jack.” He kisses her passionately, emptying himself deep inside her. 

“I love you too.” He says out of breath. 

He picks her up carrying them to his bedroom. She was completely out of it, her eyes closed and sleep slowly taking over her. He couldn’t imagine this moment any better. It happened so naturally. He tucks both of them in pulling her closely. She was his. He was hers. Thank god for that fucking apartment delay. 

~~~~~~~~

Y/N woke up feeling satisfied and definitely sore. Some of their friends were suppose to be flying in today to vibe for the next two days. She looks at the sleepy man next to her and smiles. They really had some nasty sex last night when just prior to that they were just best friends. She places a soft kiss on his forehead and decided to make them breakfast. She picked out some boxers and one of his t-shirts and got to work. As she was making them pancakes and eggs, the door bell rang and it was probably Druski since he had the earliest flight. She opens the door to see a girl, who looked like a super model holding a duffel bag. 

“Y/N, right?” 

“Uhh yeah…I’m sorry who are you?”

“I’m Jack’s girlfriend….”

Part 2? 😌

TAGLIST 

@dyttomori @harlowcomehome @itsyagirljaz

[agavekitten]

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Summary - You're Abby's Favorite Daycare Attendent!

Pairing - Mike Schmidt x Fem! Reader

Warnings- All fluff!

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Every day felt the same, gray, uncomfortable and cold. Nothing seemed to bring the warmth like it used to. Even getting out of bed feels like a chore. I rubbed my eyes, staring into the darkness of the room around me. The soft blankets coddled around me were the only things keeping me from feeling the light cold air around me. I could only let out a sigh as I thought about the day ahead of me. The same old same old, wake up, work, clean then sleep. Over and over again until I could feel nothing. 

Today was one of those days, where I felt nothing. I didn't even notice that I got out of bed and had already gotten dressed. It was like a blur, like everything around me is simply a picture and none of it is real. It’s almost nice to think of it like that - a picture. It makes the things around you more interesting, a painting can be anything you interpret it as. It can be beautiful with every stroke of the paint having meaning and purpose. Or, there is the other interpretation, the one that makes the world look sad and unappealing with bland colors and concepts. But, I didn't like to think of it that way. If I'm going to live in my own fantasy world and believe that the world is a painting, it's going to be a happy colorful one damn it. 

I stepped out of the room and made my way to the bathroom, god I looked terrible. My hair looked like a bird just laid eggs in it and my face was swollen from the night's rest. I’ve always been hypocritical about how I looked, but today it was just a joke. Did my look matter that much? Not really in the grand scheme of things but to me it was important. I work at a daycare and the thought of a parent thinking I looked like a bum on the street and questioning if I had good hygiene made me want to throw up. I spent the first hour and a half trying to make myself look better. I finally felt like a person again as I put my hair up. I gave myself a small smile in the mirror and it immediately fell.

*buzz buzz* 

I looked down at my phone and saw the time, shit. I was late to work, again. I never woke up early to get ready and make myself feel like a person again. Now that I think about it, that's a bit of a problem. I went to the front door and grabbed my bag then rushed out the door. My job was the one thing that I really truly loved. Seeing the kids' faces light up when I enter the room and rush over to me to ask to play with them was always a highlight. It made me feel like my life did have purpose. All these kids relied on me while their parents worked or had a day to themselves, I’ve even become quite attached to a few of them. There was one kid that I look forward to seeing everyday, her name was Abby. She always had a smile on her face when she saw me grabbing my shirt practically begging if we could draw together. I would always spend most of my time drawing and playing games with her while the other daycare attendants played with the other kids. Abby didn't have a lot of friends and besides with you, she was often really quiet. I smiled at the thought of seeing Abby today. She should already be there by the time I walk through the daycare door. 

And just as I suspected, when I came through the door, there she was. A big smile on her face, her hair curled slightly and she had on a pair of cute overalls. “Hey Abbs!” I gave her a soft smile and opened my arms. She came running over and gave me a huge squeeze. “I thought you weren't going to be here today, I got sad.” Abby said, looking up at me with her large doe eyes. I moved my hand to her head, messing up her hair a bit. “You know I don't miss a day kiddo.” She giggled in response, “come draw with me Y/N! I've been waiting all morning! I have an amazing idea of what kind of cats we can draw today” Abby dragged you over to the table with all the art supplies spewed about. That was Abby and I’s thing, drawing cats in different scenarios. You know pirate cats, president cats, the whole works. “What were you thinking?” I sat next to her and smiled. She made a small drumroll on the table with her fingers. “....zombie cats.” We both went silent as we looked at eachother then let out a small giggle. “Zombie cats it is then.” We spent that afternoon drawing zombie cats in different scenarios, zombie cats in the grocery store, getting hair cuts, driving cars and my personal favorite two zombie cats that were dressed like Abby and I. 

“Y/N?” Abby put her green crayon down. 

“Yes Abby?”

“You should meet my brother, he would like you.” Abby had the most serious look on her face and I giggled. “Really? Now why's that?” 

“Well I like you and you're my friend so why wouldn't he like you.” She picked her crayon back up and continued to draw, “he likes all my friends.”

 “He seems like a very nice Abby, I would love to meet him.” I gave her a soft smile.

“Abby?”

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This is my first fanfic so please be gentle….

yes there will be a part 2!!!

[ladymoody]

Hiii I recently found your blog and I loved how you wrote the first fanfic could you please please make a story with enzo beekshire where he’s like our brother’s best friend and when he invites him over he sneaks in our room and you know… please make it smut

MY BROTHER'S FRIEND

lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

concept: your brother theodore invited his friend lorenzo for a sleepover. you and he knew each other as he was often at your house to spend time with your brother, but tonight he couldn't hold back anymore.

cw: swearing, explicit language, fingering, sex (p in v penetration), cum

[ character from: harry potter fancast ]

I was in my room reading, completely lost in world of fantasy, until I heard a knock on my door.

"mh... come in." I said, not even taking my eyes off my book. My elder brother theodore opened the door and leaned against the doorframe. "my friend's coming tonight."

"who."

"enzo."

"who?" theo sighed.

"my friend. brown hair, brown eyes... he could be your type, actually." he joked.

"oh shut up, theo."

"just playing, sis... I won't let you lie a single finger on my fellas." he said as he walked out and closed the door behind him.

my brother was so annoying. it was not the first time he had brought his friends over, especially enzo who was often at our house, and it was fine with me as long as they didn't disturb me. I just wanted to stay in my little world in my room, which my brother used to call a "girly cave", and stay unbothered from men's presence.

the clock soon struck 8pm which had always been around the time when theodore welcomed his friends in. in fact, not so many minutes later, I heard my brother talking and an unknown voice answering.

I stayed on my cozy bed in my dim-lit room, fully immersed in the intriguing novel in my hands.

margaret's arms were all around jake's neck as they kept making out in the shower. jake was panting heavily and margaret couldn't help but moan every time jake squeezed her ass. she soon broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his - jake's right hand started to wander on her inner thigh expertedly, slowly and teasingly touching her clit.

I immediately snapped back to reality, panickingly throwing the book in the air as my bedroom door opened.

"hey sis, just wanted to tell you enzo and I are watching a film in my room." enzo was standing next to him and I couldn't help but check him out a little, taking in his appearance and forgetting to try to look subtle. he had fluffy, almost wavy brown hair — brown eyes, a tall figure, and a slim body. he was wearing a black sweater and a pair of blue jeans, and I couldn't help noticing the earring he was wearing, which I found extremely sexy.

enzo eyed me up back, smirking still from my book-throwing of a few seconds ago.

"hi." I sheepishly said to him. he just kept his gaze on me and stared at my bare thighs longer than necessary.

"if you need me, we're there." he said as they both left my room, shutting the door behind them.

(skip time)

I woke up confused and thirsty, the lights of my room still on, and the book that was previously in my hands was now left on my bed opened to a random page. I rubbed my eyes slowly beginning to register what was going on, and so realizing that I might've fallen asleep.

I looked at my clock on my nightstand and noticed that it was past midnight. I groaned and sat up, still taking a few moments to fully wake up from my quite long nap. I got up and walked out of my room, trying to be as quiet as possible as I didn't know if my family was already sleeping.

as I walked down the corridor, I saw the light of my brother's room cursing under the door chink, which meant that he and enzo were still awake. I knocked on the door.

no one answered. maybe they fell asleep forgetting to turn the lights off just like me.

I walked away and headed towards the bathroom to take a shower. I opened the door and looked at myself in the mirror, noticing my eye bags and messy hair.

I started to take my shirt off, then my shorts and my underwear, and in the end I opened the shower curtain to turn on the shower and get the hot water.

I screamed and immediately bent over to collect my clothes and press them against my naked figure, in an attempt to cover my body. there was enzo standing in the bathtub lathering up his body, he was shocked as well, but not as much as me since he didn't even try to cover up his crotch.

"is knocking no longer a trend anymore?" he said, a bit upset and a bit amused.

"I made a lot of noise! you could've let me know you were in here too!"

enzo rolled his eyes and spoke again. "lower your voice, or you'll wake theo up."

"I want to wake him up! he needs to know his friend is a damn pervert!" I was about to leave but he leaned out to grab my arm.

"oh you wouldn't dare."

my eyes widened in shock and almost disgust, but I won't lie saying I hadn't minded seeing his naked body.

"why won't you join me?"

I blushed hard. did he really ask me that? is he crazy? why was I nodding?

he smirked to himself as he saw me agreeing and gestured for me to get in with him.

I hesitantly removed the clothes from my body and let them drop back on the floor. I looked at him to see if he was making eye contact with me, but he wasn't — he was staring at my body in awe.

I made my way into the bathtub and joined him, now his gaze was on my face as he couldn't stop grinning at me, hip bottom lip between his teeth.

he didn't waste any time and immediately grabbed the back of my thighs to lift me up, then he pushed me against the cold and wet wall of the shower and held my legs tight around his waist. I automatically rested my hands on his lower chest, our eyes not leaving each other for one second.

with one of his hands he reached the tap and turned the water on to muffle the noise we'll have made. and eventually he pressed his lips against mine.

the kiss was slow at first, our heads often tilting to opposite sides to kiss more easily. I moved my arms around his neck, pulling him closer by the back of his head.

after some time of making out, I felt his hand leaving my thigh and rub against my clit. I gasped and threw my head back on the wall, my eyes shut and my mouth hanged open. he soon slipped two fingers inside of me, making me moan in pleasure as he started to pump them in and out.

"enzo..." I moaned, clinging onto his back.

"mhh... I've wanted to do this since I first saw you." he moaned back.

I was in complete ecstasy as I felt the hot water running on our bare skin — the noise of it taking over our moans of lovemaking — the feeling of his soft lips against mine, and his slender and long fingers fucking my pussy. he knew what he was doing.

"I'm so close…" I whined, almost begging him to let me release.

"hold on, baby. not like this…" he took his fingers out of me, leaving me a needy mess, and grabbed his now hard erection. he started stroking it a bit, then I felt his tip lining up against my folds.

I screamed as he pushed it inside of me without any warning, he stayed inside to let me adjust to his size, and then he began to thrust.

I could feel my walls wrap around him instantly, his thrusts not gentle at all so I could tell he has wanted this for quite a long time. he buried his face in the crook of my neck, often leaving wet kisses on my shoulder. suddenly we heard a knock on the door.

"enzo?" my brother called out. but enzo didn't bother to stop fucking me.

"it's me! I'm in the shower!" he answered.

"well, hurry up, I have to use the bathroom as well!" theo said back and then we heard his steps growing less and less loud as he walked away.

in the meantime I was completely in another universe — enzo's hand had covered my mouth to not let my brother find out what we were up to, while he kept up with his merciless thrusts.

"you're taking it so well..." he groaned into my ear. I dug my nails into his back, making him moan a little more at the painful pleasure of my gesture, and then I hit my orgasm.

the idea of making me come made enzo come right after me within a few seconds — I felt his thrusts getting faster and faster as he buried himself completely inside of me, and in the end, he pulled out cumming on my lower belly.

he kissed my forehead and put me down on my feet, making me stumble a bit from the intensity of what had just happened.

"don't tell your brother, will you, baby?" he stroked my cheek, then he turned the water off and opened the curtain.

I shook my head and he grinned at me before making his way out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! ᯓᡣ𐭩

author’s note: hii!! this was my first request and I hope that I satisfied it :) I spent days writing this story because I wanted it to be perfect, yet it turned out to be just decent. I know the person who made the request asked me to make enzo sneak into our room, but I couldn’t find the purpose of that so I changed it a bit and made them have sex in the shower. I hope you liked it anyway♡︎ sorry for answering your request so late! love u guys!!!💜💜

comment if you’d like to be added in my taglist to never miss my updates. 🥀

[moonlightspencie]

tolerate it

Description: listen to the song by taylor, that’ll tell ya

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Warnings: it’s just angst lolll, hotch is kind of a dick, age gap relationship (hotch in his early forties, reader in mid twenties)

Word Count: 2k

a/n: based on the song obvi, but also this post from @greg-montgomery bc that idea had been rattling in my brain and ouchie but i’m glad other people had the same thought 👹

also: jack doesn’t exist in this universe for the sake of my brain

Befriending an FBI agent didn’t seem like a plausible next step when I decided to take a job as a barista. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was luck, though whether it was good or bad was hard to decipher.

It started out good.

We sat across from one another after my shift was over. I wouldn’t tell him that hanging out at my job after I was done wasn’t my number one choice purely for the fact that he smiled soft and sweet when he asked. We needed to talk anyways.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea, to be honest,” he mentioned, a shy smile on his face.

“Why is that, do you think?” I questioned.

“I have… A past. There’s been so much that’s happened to myself and my family. I have a demanding job. Dating, even the concept of it, has been hard since—“

He stopped, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he looked down at the drink in his hands. I could tell something heavy was weighing on him, and it hurt to see him looking so down. Granted, we hadn’t known one another for long, but he’d become a close friend. I knew some of his tells, at least.

He looked back up at me, finding nothing but sincerity when he saw me looking back at him.

“My wife, uh, she,” he paused, clearing his throat. “She didn’t just… pass away. She was killed. It was by someone my team was hunting down, and it was hard. I haven’t been looking to date since then.”

I nodded. “I understand, and I don’t want to pressure you. But, if you decide that you do feel ready, I’ll be here.”

He smiled, taking one of my hands from across the table. I swallowed down butterflies, trying to ignore the softened look on his face when he watched me.

“You deserve better. You should be with someone less busy. Younger.”

“I don’t mind a busy working schedule, and everyone has baggage. If you don’t want this, that’s okay. But I do,” I confessed, noting the blush on his cheeks as I spoke. “It’s all about communication, isn’t it? Making sure that if things are hard or messy or frustrating that you talk it out?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I just—“

“Hey,” I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. Again, if you change your mind, I’ll be here.”

He let out a breath. “Thank you.”

I watched him for a while in the silence. He still had that cute frown on his face.

“I think the problem now is that I don’t want to wait,” he said at last.

I smiled back at him, taking his hand as he pulled me out of the little cafe.

Things started out so well. He’d give me a shy smile every time he showed up at my door to take me out somewhere. He’d call each time he was able to on cases. His sweet demeanor and hidden soft heart stole me over.

It was an easy ‘yes’ when he asked me to move in.

It was easy being with him for so long. But things always change. Sometimes for the worse.

A kiss hello and goodnight became the only times I’d feel his lips on mine. He’d work on what he needed to, sure to tell me any time I asked about what he was doing that I wouldn’t understand it.

I’d stand around, waiting for a drop of attention like a kicked dog. It never mattered. Conversations always turned into short arguments shut down by his cool, even-toned voice telling me I was overreacting. Who was I to think that I knew anything?

“You’re throwing a tantrum,” he huffed, annoyed.

I paused, staring at him in confusion. He stared back at me blankly. Of course he couldn’t be bothered to show any kind of emotion outside of a snap in his voice.

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t have time for this,” he said, shaking his head.

He continued packing his thing to head to the bureau, and I once again stood alone, watching him. A mere inconvenience in his morning routine.

“If this is all in my head, just tell me,” I said quickly. “But it feels like you’re intentionally ignoring me. Like I’m some kind of child to you.”

He stared at me for a moment, his face indecipherable.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You didn’t ask me a question. If you want to know something, all you have to do is ask.”

He left after that, leaving me speechless in the living room, staring at the door of the apartment. I busied myself all day, trying not to think about it. Days when I was at work while he was felt fine enough. Not good, but fine.

Days when I was alone while he was out working though… I felt like a kid waiting for a parent to return.

I was in the kitchen with a glass of wine when he finally got home. He silently walked around the space. I’m sure he took off his jacket. Undid his tie. Set down his things and locked up the gun. Usual routine that I had no part in and probably never would.

He finally walked into the kitchen behind me, not bothering to say a word as he got a glass of water. Of course, I’d be the first to speak up.

“Are we going to talk about today?”

I turned, finally looking at him. He sipped at the glass of water, simply raising his brows in question. I furrowed mine in response, sick of him trying to shove away any semblance of communication.

“What about it?” he asked.

“What about it? We were kind of in the middle of talking when you left.”

“And we finished it.”

“No, we didn’t.”

He sighed hard. Quiet again. Brooding and stoic Aaron Hotchner. Never having time for anyone’s bullshit.

I wouldn’t have guessed my feelings were more shit on the pile to him. Guess I should’ve known better.

I looked at the plates that remained in the drying rack. Pretty and clean. I’d spent all afternoon doing the dishes, making sure they’d sparkle. If I couldn’t catch his eye anymore, maybe if he saw his own reflection in the plates, he’d realize I did something for him. It might remind him I was still here. In fact, the silverware was even cleaned and polished until they absolutely gleamed. I could probably blind myself with a spoon if I angled it from the sun just right. And I’d do it if he asked me to. Just to see him smile at me as I blinked back at him, trying to see correctly again. Three hours I’d spent on such a small task. Three hours while he sat in his office. I didn’t even know what he did in there, but I knew he’d been finished with what he actually needed to do for the day. I hoped that he might at least come home to see if I was still in the apartment. Would he even miss me if I had decided to leave? I didn’t know. I knew I could at least make him miss having clean dishes.

I moved swiftly, reaching for one of the plates. I held it in my hands, letting the weight of it weigh me down a little. I noticed how the kitchen light bounced off of the surface. Then, I looked at him.

He still had that stupid frown on his face.

Usually a moment like this would require that the person holding the glass wasn’t thinking straight. An accidental drop, leading to scary, sharp edges of glass all over the floor. Shock. Maybe embarrassment. A jump backwards. I did none of the above when I tossed down the plate onto the kitchen tile. It hit the ground with force, sending shards all across the floor in between us. The pieces shone up at his bewildered face as a taunt. They sparkled in my direction like a gleam of light in playful eyes that were daring me to do it again. And it was fucking cathartic.

I took another, ignoring the call of my name trying to stop me, and slammed it on the ground right on top of the remains of the first.

“Stop,” he said, voice raising just below a full yell.

I smiled to myself, holding the third of four in my hands. I couldn’t stop staring at the wreckage I’d already caused, but I let my eyes wandered in his direction.

“You want a tantrum?” I asked, holding the third plate just above my head. “I’ll give you a tantrum. What was it that you said to me? Uh… Oh! Right: ‘all you had to do was ask’.”

I let the plate drop, debris flying all around my feet, thought none of it was sharp enough to do harm. Maybe that was a part of the fun. The plates were thick and heavy. They weren’t made to break. But when they did, it was loud and hard and didn’t hurt me one bit. In any sense of the word.

As I reached for the final plate in the rack, he started circling to get behind me. He grabbed my arm, trying to stop me from letting it hit the floor. He turned me towards him.

“Stop. You’re acting like a child.”

I merely nodded. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Fuck off, Aaron.”

I whipped my hand hard enough to send the final plate flying. I wrenched myself from his grip after I heard the satisfying crash, stalking past him and out of the kitchen.

He stomped off after me, catching me as I started putting a few things in my bag in the bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

I laughed humorlessly. “Right. Like you care.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

Silence again.

“You’re everything to me, Aaron,” I said, staring straight back at him. “You were everything and your feelings were everything and what am I to you? Huh?”

“You’re my girlfriend.”

“And that’s it? Just a commodity. Someone who sits all nice and quiet when you get home so that you don’t feel completely alone. Someone who’ll light the candles and wash the dishes and try over and over again to love you. All for nothing.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s more than fair.”

“You’re acting so—“ he stopped himself, voice raising again.

“So what, Aaron? Immature?”

“That’s not—“

“Sorry, I totally forgot about the age difference. It’s not like you remind me every single time we get into any kind of argument,” I argued back, venom in my voice. “You’re so much older and wiser. You must always know better.”

He scoffed. I stayed for a moment, still squared up emotionally. I finally went back to packing a few things when I realized he wasn’t responding to me. He watched quietly as I went, fists balled up at his sides, almost convincing me that he actually cared.

He called my name again, this time much more quietly. I ignored him, zipping up my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. He said it again, a little louder.

“What?” I snapped.

“Where are you going?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe my sister’s place.”

He sighed. “Are you coming home?”

I paused, looking at him as I stood in the doorway. He dropped his shoulders, finally letting his guard down.

“I don’t know. What happens if I don’t? If I were to pick up and leave and never look back?” I asked, steeling my face again. “I don’t think it’d make much of a difference to you.”

“Yes, it would.”

“Then figure out if you really want me in your life. Then I’ll give you an answer. Until then, I’m done giving everything to you all for me to turn up completely drained.”

“I love you,” he said, trying to convince himself just as much as he tried convincing me.

I nodded, heading for the door. I was done trying to convince myself I didn’t need him. I didn’t need empty words anymore. I had the truth: I found it in a neatly packed bag and a pile of broken dishes on the kitchen floor.

[stellamancer]

between the moon’s divide (satoru gojo x reader)

notes: uh. a week ago i thought to myself ‘oh i want to write a kiss scene’ thinking it would take me a day or two but no it took a week of me agonizing over... everything lmao.

contains: gender neutral reader, gojo is taller than the reader (as usual), some kind of tension, and finally kissing!!

wc: 2.1k

It’s sometime past midnight when you run across Satoru Gojo standing in the school’s courtyard. 

Unable to sleep, you’d taken to the halls. It’d become a habit by now, wandering the corridors like a restless ghost until sleep could evade you no longer. You’d actually been heading back to your room when you’d seen him, statuesque as he bathed in moonlight. You’d been vaguely aware that Gojo was not much of a sleeper, but you’d never run into him on one of your nighttime strolls. 

You come to a stop, observing Gojo as he stares up at the moon. It’s very odd for him; to be still, to be silent. 

Naturally, it doesn’t last for long.

“Finally here for our romantic moonlight rendezvous?” he asks, his tone playful, his gaze still fixed on the moon above. 

You can’t help but feel mildly annoyed that he’s noticed you at this distance. “As if. I was just wondering if maybe you were thinking about returning to your home planet.”

Gojo hums as you step out onto the courtyard, approaching him. "And leave you here? You'd be lonely without me.” 

You wait until you and Gojo are standing side by side to respond, not sparing him a glance as you retort, “Actually, I think you’d be the lonely one.”

At first, you don’t think much of the words that come out of your mouth. It’s habit to take anything Gojo throws at you and hurl it right back at him. The words play back in your mind as you tilt your head up to gaze up at the moon. It dominates the midnight sky, larger and brighter than anything else in the expanse above. Something about it reminds you of Gojo, strong, brilliant, and—

Lonely.

“You think?” he asks, sounding almost amused, as if you’d said something funny. 

“Probably?” you answer. "Though, I don't know, maybe your home planet is full of more Satoru Gojos and you would all be one happy collective, feeding into each other's egos and all that."

The thought of more than one Satoru Gojo, much less a whole planet full of them is enough to make your head throb with pain. The world has enough problems with one alone.

"...and what if there's no one else there?" 

You blink, and turn your head just slightly toward Gojo. He's still looking up at the moon, his expression almost melancholic. Something in your chest aches at the sight and you look back at the moon as if that will ease the pain.

It makes sense for him to think like that, to think his home planet would be deserted— all your lives you've been told how he's unique, how he's special, how he's the one and only Satoru Gojo. The thought, the notion that there could be another like him is near incomprehensible.

(There was one, someone, who came close and he—)

"Then don't go."

The words are barely audible, escaping your mouth like a whisper in the breeze. You're not even sure if you actually said them because under normal circumstances you'd keep such words to yourself, bury them deep inside your heart like a well-kept secret because in Satoru Gojo's hands those three words are little more than ammunition.  

And as much as you loathe the thought of giving him something else he can weaponize against you, you think he needs it right now. Even with the weight of the world on his shoulders, his hands remain ever empty, ready and willing to take on more burden. If you're going to give him something to hold, it might as well be something he can find some measure of joy in. 

You expect Gojo to cut to the chase and start teasing you. Hesitation is a foreign concept to him, especially with the prospect of something new to play with, but he is uncharacteristically silent. Against your better judgment, you turn your head back toward him and find that he is no longer looking up at the moon.

He’s looking at you. 

Your breath stills in your chest. The bright gleam of Gojo’s eyes is a curse in of itself, rooting you to the core. You’ve never been good at dealing with Gojo like this. Stupid as that blindfold of his looks on him, it acts as a buffer, as a shield. You want to look away. You have to look away before the shocking hue of his gaze pulls you in, traps you, ensnares you with no hope of escape.

Gojo moves, shifting into a position that brings him down to your height, facing you fully as he unleashes the full power of his stupidly brilliant blue eyes on you. He leans just the slightest bit in your direction. Your heart rate climbs higher and higher as he inches closer. A voice in the back of your mind tries to remind you, to reassure you: this isn’t the first time that Satoru Gojo has pulled this kind of trick on you, and it won’t be the last. He’ll creep closer and closer toward you, taunting you, teasing you, but the space between you will forever remain infinite. 

But then he presses his forehead to yours and all bets are off. 

You need to get away from him. Now. You take a step back, to put some space in between you. It might be finite, but some space is better than none. But even though you’ve taken a step back you find that you are no further than Gojo than you were before, your foreheads still pressed together.

What in the world? You swear you took a step back.

Something in your peripheral shifts and your eyes flicker down for just a second, catching the corner of his mouth twitch. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Then it clicks. You’re so used to seeing him using his technique to push everything away, to make himself untouchable, that you often forget that it’s not the only thing he can do. HIs power doesn’t only repel.

It attracts too. 

Your heartbeat grows erratic at the realization that the once infinite space between you is now all but obsolete. Like this, you’re far too aware of him; aware of his hair, brushing softly against your face, aware of his breathing, echoing loud in your ears, aware of his lips—

“...what are you doing?” you finally manage to whisper after what feels like an eternity. 

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you nearly regret them. The question is begging for trouble, inviting it and the inevitable teasing from Gojo. But still you ask— you have to, you need to. It feels counterintuitive, but you need the distraction of his answer and the annoyance it’s sure to bring to cut through the thoughts, the feelings that are threatening to swallow you whole. 

You expect his response to come instantly like it always does, but… it doesn't. Something stutters in your chest at the change in routine. Is he being purposely silent? Or is he actually thinking about his words before they come out of his mouth for once? 

Finally, finally, he speaks, his voice low and teasing for sure, but there's something else there, diluting his tone, laced in his words. It's subtle, but whatever it is throws you completely off balance. "I thought you said 'don't go.'" 

Your mouth opens. You start to speak. But no words come out, instead they are lodged in your throat— honesty and reluctance mangled together in one huge lump. The thought occurs to you to just leave them there, unspoken. But, you wouldn't put it past Gojo to try and rip them free; with that in mind you pull at the words, unraveling them before releasing them into the night air. "…I did." 

It's official now: you've gone off script and you both know it. 

Gojo pulls back, just enough for you to see his face clearly. You think he's going to tease you for your admission, but instead, he studies you, his eyes probing, searching. You don’t know what for, but with no buffer, no infinity between you, it feels almost as if you are laid bare before the hypnotic glow of his eyes. 

Try as you might, you cannot even bring yourself to look away. You are charmed, captivated, enchanted by the spell of his eyes. Any hope for escape is gone and the only things that remain are you and the limitless blue.

Something shifts in Gojo’s expression and you wonder, distantly, if he’s found whatever it was he was looking for. 

He surges forward, pressing his forehead to yours once more, angling himself, positioning himself, and his mouth, his lips—

They’re barely there. Hovering as close as they possibly can without even touching. You can feel his breath, warm and intoxicating and it’s suddenly so hard to move, to think, to even breathe with the threat of Satoru Gojo imminent and about to swallow you whole.

He could, if he wanted and you both know it, and yet…

“Not even gonna try and deny it?” he asks, and you can practically feel his lips moving with each word he speaks. His tone is amused still, teasing still, but there's something more to it. It's like a secret, a plea even, interwoven into his words and actions, loud and unsubtle in a way that screams Satoru Gojo.

You don't know why he doesn't just say what he wants right now. Maybe he thinks it's more fun to try and be coy about it. Or maybe he thinks if he actually says it, you'll refuse like you always do, because you never think he really means it when he says it.

But right now, you think Gojo might.

You think he might really want to kiss you. 

This is your last chance, you think, your lips parting, your response heavy in your mouth. Whatever happens from here on out hinges entirely on what you say next. It’s not just about trying to deny what you said anymore; it's about denying whatever the hell is actually going on between you and Gojo. All this time, you've been turning a blind eye to things, adamant that there's nothing there— that Gojo is just a colleague and nothing more. And despite that, despite everything, he pushed and shoved his way into your heart like it's where he's belonged all along. Those three little words are undeniable proof that there's something between the two of you and it's awfully kind of him to let you try and deny it. 

But can you?

"...no." 

The realization settles in your chest, heavy yet liberating as you breathe the word into the air. You can’t— you won’t deny it, deny him.

Not any more.

Gojo’s entire body goes still, but then his hands are cupping your face, long fingers splayed across your cheeks. He’s holding you like a treasure, his touch reverent. Gojo presses his forehead to yours once more; his breath caresses you once more and you think that maybe, for the first time in his life, Satoru Gojo knows hesitation, feels it running through his veins as the space between your lips and his grows more and more infinitesimally small. 

You like to pretend that you'd never given much thought to how your first kiss with Gojo would go, but you never would have thought that it would be like this— gentle and sweet. But despite that, it feels almost like your chest is going to burst as he fills your lungs, your veins, your entire being.

For just a moment, you think he’s about to pull away, and your body reacts of its own accord, reaching out for him, keeping him close. It’s at this moment that the kiss shifts into something more hungry, more desperate. Gojo’s lips part, his tongue swiping against your lips, begging you to do the same. 

You do not deny him. 

Eventually, eventually you pull away, dazed and out of breath, but Gojo doesn’t let you go too far, his arms wrapping around you. A silence settles around the two of you as you stand there, bathing in moonlight. 

Of course, it doesn’t last for long. 

“You’re really down bad for me, huh,” Gojo remarks, his voice infuriatingly smug.

You rip yourself from his grasp... or, at least, you try to. What you manage to do is free yourself enough so that you can look at his face. Naturally he’s beaming, all too pleased by everything that’s going on, his eyes shining brighter than any star in the sky. 

The words you normally say, the words you usually say, try to force their way out of your mouth, but you catch them before they do. You’ve decided, you remind yourself, you won’t deny him any more. 

“...guess I am,” you answer, as casually as possible, then you add, as a cheeky afterthought, “And what about you?”

The grin on Gojo’s face widens as he leans in and that’s how your second kiss begins.

[romaevelizz]

Crush Culture˖ ࣪⊹

II. Spill my guts

sum: tsukishima finding himself thinking a bit more of the nekoma manager, maybe looking a bit more into her wont be to bad..

Warnings: Tsukishima being a Cutsie little stalker, cursing, teasing, not really proffered! Mention of past relationship.

(III.)

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

He hated it he hated this feeling, it didn’t help how his teammates would talk about ‘Nekomas pretty manger’ it irritated him how Tanaka and Noya practically drooled over her when they brought her up. What made it worse is when yamaguchi let it slip that he had ran into her in the hallway. The two second years going crazy that he had gotten that close to her.

“Common you don’t even know her name!” Noya groaned.

“Why would I even ask she ran into me.” He said.

Tanaka punched him in the arm “you didn’t even say sorry just walked away, how could you she’s gorgeous.” He complained.

Tsukishimas rubbed his arm rolling his eyes, oh he apologized. Not that he wanted to, remembering the moment making him frown. “Ask Kiyoko, they hugged after the game.” Kageyama spoke up.

The three snapping their heads towards the first year. “You’re so smart!” Noya and Tanaka cried pushing off of Tsukishima.

He found it sad how desperate they were to find out her name, why did they even need it? He thought she’s not even around her it’s not like they’d go out with her. To them she was just a pretty face and that pissed tsukishima off, at lest have the decency to ask her name in person. What made this more dreadful is the he wanted to know her name to, to be truthful he’d looked up their roster and coaching staff but didn’t find a name that would fit her. God maybe he was worse than them for doing that.

“SHE HAS AN INSTAGRAM!” Tanaka yelled.

Tsukishima groaned standing up, walking by his two upper class men he glanced at the phone they looked at scrolling through her feed.

It wasn’t stalking if her account is public right? Tsukishima opening up his phone as he began to walk home only for him to close it and shove the phone back in his pocket. He groaned closing his eyes, “Everything alright Tsukii?” The sound of his best friends voice was heard from beside him.

Tsukishimas eyes met his, “I’m fine.”

Lie. And yamaguchi could tell, “don’t bs me what’s up. I get if you don’t wanna tell me but I’m here to listen.” He shrugged.

He wanted to tell him, he wanted that Nekomas manager had an attitude, how he haters her bratty tone pissed him off. How she was stuck in his head how she barely touched him but her body spray lingerd on him after, how she smelled of coco butter and vanilla. How stupid he felt. How she pulled an apology out of him and it wasn’t even a real one! God she pissed him off. Especially how nervous he got.

He wanted to throw up.

“Tsukii?”

“Why are they so obsessed with her?”

“Nekomas manager?”

“Yeah”

Yamaguchi paused for a moment “It’s Tanaka and Nishinoya, it’s just the way they are. Plus she is pretty.”

“Is that really all? Over them being a bit girl crazy.” Yamaguchi spoke rubbing the back of his neck.

No. Was he jealous! No that’s stupid. “Just don’t get it I guess, I mean don’t you get tired if it? Them always asking you if you have a girlfriend? If you have a crush.” Tsukishima asked.

“Not really, it’s never bothered me. I mean I do like girls but it’s not my whole personality nor do they like me back at times. Just keep to myself.” Yamaguchi spoke thinking about as he talked.

Tsukishima always disliked the concept of crushes, how one shared feelings for another but can’t tell them. The feeling of falling in love yet waiting just to perhaps be rejected? The obsession that came with it always wanting to talk to said person or being with them. How you can ever get them out of your mind. It was lame, it made him feel sick.

“You like someone don’t you.”

Tsukishimas head Turing to look at his friend. “No, I’m not interested in all of that.” He spoke. Truthfully he wasn’t, he no intention of getting a girlfriend or even talking to someone romantically.

Maybe it was the comfort of his bed, how he laid on his back as he opened Instagram again. Typing in the name tag, pressing on the first profile. Yeah she was known that for sure. Scrolling through her feed, learning she’s social, loves her family, and all around loves taking photos of herself, but how could she not she’s pretty. Her face was made for the lens of a camera.

“Really like putting yourself out there huh..?” He spoke to himself, the moment he said that his finger slipped a pink heart popping up on the screen.

“No.”

“Oh shit!” He sat up quickly. It was a photo of her on the beach sitting up on her knees her hands up blocking the sun from her face. He liked a fucking Bikini post from 6 months ago.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” He groaned. What if he unliked it? She still see it. No that was stupid.

The sound of his door opening made if head turn. “Everything alright Kei!” His mother asked.

“Yeah. Im great just people,” he spoke taking a deep breath before talking to him mom again “I’m alright sorry for worrying you.” He spoke. She nodded closing the door.

“No fucking way!”

“What a little stalker.” She spoke softly her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth.

“Who’s a stalker?”

“Nobody. Some kid I met a little over a week ago.” Yn spoke to her older brother.

He groaned pushing off the doorway. She laughed lightly pressing on his profile. Not a very out there guy hmm.. he had a few post. Her thumb lingered over the follow button, “fuck it.” Pressing it setting her phone down.

The little buzz of her phone making her smirk, peeking at her phone ‘keitsukiishima_07’ followed you back.

She picked up her phone a giddy grin on her face, opening the messages. Oh she was about to give this kid so much shit.

She couldn’t help but laugh, lord he was dry tho.

Tsukishima on the other hand threw his phone on his bed the blonde now standing up, “so stupid.”

Yet when he found himself back in his bed he opened the chat once more, only to close it. No. He’s going to bed. Forgetting about what just happened and going to sleep. If only it was that easy, tossing and turning but he couldn’t sleep, he’d being lying if he wasn’t waiting for another text.

Didn’t matter what it was. But he’d be damned if he text her.

She wasn’t much different, but she waited till the next day.

“Kuroo are we inviting Karasuno to the summer camp?” She asked standing infront of his desk.

He looked up at her his face scrunching “I think.”

“Why-“

“Thank you!” She spoke leaving his classroom.

Maybe she didn’t have to wait as long as she thought to see him. Her summer break go free labored babysitting wouldn’t be to bad. She’d have a first year to pick on.

It was wierd how she found herself back looking at those three post, one of him reading a book somthing his friends probably took, the two other of him on a hike. A taller women, blonde, standing next to him, his mom she guessed how he held her just as close as she did him a half smile on his face. One most would think is fake and forced but it was genuine Tsukishima Kei was a mamas boy.

Her eyes scanned the phone as she continued to look, a notification popping up.

‘Tetsu(hater)😒’

‘Your ex is gonna be at the camp wanted to give you heads up!’

Her once smile dropping. Gross. Common, I mean sure he’s part of a team that’s friends but common. She was thankful for the heads up but she felt sick. He was gonna be there at that camp for 2 almost 3 weeks. God damn it. She could feel tears weld up in her eyes, she hated it. They’ve been apart for over 5 months. And now she had to see his stupid fucking face. It made her sick.

Felt as if she would spill her guts.

[jojo-schmo]

I’m looking into making my own Kirbysona. I was wondering if you have any tips??

you don’t have to answer! Also I love your art and your AU is awesome :)

Hello! Thank you so much for the kind words! <3 I'd be happy to share some of my thought process behind creating my bubble-blowing baby, Ripple Fairy Kirbysona! I will always cheer on the existence of more Kirbysonas! :D

I had a Kirbysona in childhood that was just a little puffball, like Kirby- and she looked like this :D I loved the Star Rod, the Beam Kirby hat was my favorite, I just finished playing Kirby 64 so I added some Crystal Shards to the hat, and I slapped on my favorite colors. Bam! I'd draw her in the margins of my notebooks, interacting with other Kirby characters in little stories I'd write... Great fun!

But now as an adult posting my work online, I wanted something that felt more like "me," as opposed to an OC that felt like someone else. A direct extension of myself to interact with the characters I love, as well as characters and sonas of other creators in our Kirby corner over here! Like a gaming avatar! But in a series with so many different species and characters, where to start?!

Step 1: THERE ARE NO RULES. BE CRINGE AND BE FREE!!

The important thing is to have fun! You can choose to confine yourself to the rules of the Kirby universe, or just make something up! The important part is that a sona represents you!

These are the thoughts that went through my head, but it's not the only way to make a sona! If you follow what your heart is saying and not what you think others want to see, you'll find a design that feels like you!

Step 2: Ask some basic questions to establish a design direction.

These are the questions I asked myself during the creation process, but your questions can be different! This is just how I set up my rough plan of creation.

Sonas don't need to look like you or be named after you irl if you don't want! But in order to feel like "me," I decided on something that shared a lot of my actual physical traits. For me personally, if the sona didn't look a lot like me, I would always have a disconnect with it. I also settled on the name "Jojo" quickly because that's my actual nickname, part of my username, and I respond quickly to it.

From there, answering the other design questions I had came quickly after that!

Step 3: Settle on a species.

I went with a Ripple Star Fairy in the end because 1) They're adorable and I love their cute wings, hair ribbons/accessories, 2) They're shown as adults, which is perfect because I am one lol, 3) Look human enough for me to relate to while still having a lot of freedom to make up powers, lore, and design traits, and 4) Ripple Fairies deserve some love hahaha

Side note: if you can't decide on a species, throw the rules out the window! Be a shapeshifter. Or have multiple forms for no reason. Be a combination penguin/puffball knight/human/waddle dee born from the cosmos!! Refer to step 1, there are no rules! Hit your sona with a Waddle Dee beam whenever you want!!

Step 4: Design yourself, superstar!!

I brainstormed with a page of sketches and tried a bunch of different variations of a Ripple Fairy with different hairstyles and outfits, (I need to find that sketch page) but I eventually settled on these concepts!

I wear braids almost every day, so I added that. Ripple Fairies in canon all have cute hair accessories, so I made sure to tie off the braid with a little ribbon!

Also my hair in real life does this "devil horn thing" that is one of my favorite things about myself. Like I have these baby hairs on the sides of my head that love to curl upwards on their own, so I kept the "devil horn" silhouette with the braid's bangs :D

ALSO, I LOVE BOW TIES. SO MUCH. I love shirts, dresses, anything with a bow on the collar. So I added that.

I have this black coat with a sailor-like collar IRL that I love. I feel SUPER DUPER AWESOME when I wear it, so I added the collar with the bow tie.

I added buttons, a stripe along the bottom of the dress and sleeves, and gauntlets because a lot of canon Ripple Fairies have them. My college marching band uniform also had big gauntlets that I felt really cool wearing, so I shaped mine like that! And clothes with scalloped hems are my favorites, so I added one as a unique twist to my dress!

Now for the fun magic stuff. I wanted my powers to be connected to bubbles because I just think bubbles are neat!!! Simple as that haha.

So how am I going to blow bubbles, then? I'll need a bubble wand! How about a weapon that can change forms to be pocket-sized and functional, AND a super cool staff? Because I think staffs are SICK. I'd carry one around all the time if I could.

I got a little sentimental with my design too, borrowing some elements from my childhood Kirbysona like the Star Rod, stripes, ribbons, and diamond shapes. It's one of my favorite details because I like paying homage to the baby Jojo I once was as often as I can.

I added a little bit of red to the IRL brown color that my hair and eyes are (added more red to my eyes because I always felt like my brown eyes were boring lol). I finished off the theme with my favorite color blue, a little bit of yellow to complement, and BAM! There I am, Gary! There I am!!

Jojo The Schmo was born! She is me, and I am her, haha. Everything about the design has aspects that mean something special to me. I wanted to keep things unique and fun, but simple enough to draw over and over, while still representing me. And that's why I love my sona so so much!!

Hope this could provide some helpful insight! Go forth and create your unique and wonderful sonas!! When you're done we should all have a picnic together in Dreamland. <3