#Direct Deposit Dates

[refundtalk-blog]

Discover the IRS Estimated Direct Deposit Dates for 2024! Explore the cycle charts to pinpoint your estimated direct deposit date and stay one step ahead in anticipating your tax refund. #IRS#DirectDeposit#PaperCheck#TaxSeason2024

[slippery-minghus]

i started playing red dead redemption 2 yesterday and it's super fun! really really enjoying it so far. but i haven't exactly gotten far bc i've been so sleepy. i've had the game paused longer than not ^-^;; doing bjj two days in a row and then all the stuff i did today really wore me out damn. i'll be fine for the work week, but playing my game is gonna be tough lol.

[ifindtaxpro]

Don't settle for tax refund lag! This guide outlines key dates, fast-track tips, & bonus hacks to get your 2024 cash windfall ASAP. File smart, track it, & watch your account bloom! #taxrefundsavvy #irslife

[captainfern]

soooo i'm curious, in the cuck!price verse, do you think he and his wife have a love for reader beyond their physical activities? or is it, for now at least, just sex??? (waittt, imagine this: the prices who haven't quite realized they have deeper feelings for you yet. and you, whose been in love and open about it for a while, getting fed up and going on a date with someone else to make them jealous. you succeeding and getting the jealous prices to admit their feelings <333333)

the cuck universe expands lmao but at this point he’s not even cucking he’s just sharing

check out the lovely @bleuu-moon since she started this whole thing 😭

i like to think that they really do like reader and end up becoming quite… territorial

18+ (piv, f!oral (reader giving), fem!reader

you went on a date with someone else. it had been a couple of days since you last saw the price’s, and even then, they seemed to be reclused when it came to their feelings about you. you could feel there was something they wanted to say, but they just didn’t say it. so you ignored their calls, and found romantic attention elsewhere.

they were really nice— the person you went on a date with, that is. kind and charming and funny. they paid for the date, kept steady and comfortable conversation, and the whole thing felt calming and natural. they even offered to pay for your ride home.

so you invited them back to your place. maybe you often did this on first dates, maybe not, but today you felt almost obligated to do so. they were such a good date, and you itched to know whether you could thank them within the privacy of your bedroom.

and your date, rather bashful by this stage, agreed, and the two of you went home together. but when you arrived home, tumbling out of the uber together with their lips on your neck and arms around your waist, you stopped short when you clocked mr. and mrs. price loitering outside your door.

you have them a sceptical look when they turned in your direction, your date’s hands roaming down your sides, their lips blazing a warm trail down the curve of your neck, sucking and biting gently. you would have probably whimpered if it wasn’t for john and his wife watching you with something fiery blazing in their eyes.

“had a nice time, sweetheart?” mrs. price asked, her head cocked to the side, her arms crossed over her chest.

your date pulled their head away from you, their arms still wrapped around your body, head resting on your shoulder now. they felt you stiffen up, hands squeezing your hips soothingly.

“uh…?” your date was confused by this point. two attractive people waiting for you on your doorstep, looking a little more than just annoyed.

you didn’t really have the words to explain who or what they were to you. but you didn’t have too. john grabbed hold of your front door handle and opened it (you mentally asked yourself where he got a key from?) and gestured towards it with his head.

“inside,” he ordered. “now.”

apologetically, you wiggled your way out of your date’s arms and offered them your sincerest apologies. they took it well, and waved goodbye before hopping back into the still-waiting uber and driving off.

nervously, you walked into your home with both prices trailing after you. and you didn’t get far— being bent over your kitchen counter as you deposited your purse and phone there.

“had a nice time, did you?” john muttered, hips pinning you to the counter. his hand came down to the back of your neck, where he could see the subtle outlines of harsh kisses along your skin. teeth indents in the low light of the kitchen.

“what’s all these then?” he asked, but it was rhetorical. he traced his fingers along the marks, hips grinding into the curve of your arse. you whined, feeling trapped beneath him as his wife walked up to your side, placing a hand on the top of your head, petting gently.

“trying to make us jealous, pet?” she all but purred in your ear, stroking your hair. she bent down slightly to place a light kiss against your temple, and you felt your brows furrow when she pulled away. she tutted. “well, it worked.”

“worked a little too well,” john hissed, still grinding his clothed cock into the swell of your arse, his hand still on the back of your neck, big and warm and heavy.

you whined. “s’just all so confusing. sometimes i don’t even know if you like me anymore. you both get so distant when i tell you i care about you.”

“oh, sweetheart. of course we care about you,” mrs. price whispered, still petting the top of your head like you were some kind of puppy. “we care about you so much, don’t we, john?”

“mhm,” he hummed, hips bucking and pushing your further into the kitchen counter. you steadied yourself with your arms along the cool surface, his hand still pinning your head to the side to look at his wife. he exhaled deeply, pained. “our pretty girl.”

you whined out again and mrs. price shushed you, cooing gently and sliding her soft hand along the curve of your face, petting you soothingly. she kissed your temple again, her lips ghosting along your hairline before she pulled back. “see? we do care about you, sweetheart. you’re ours. got it?”

you nodded, feeling your eyes growing glossy. her tone was so soft and sultry yet you didn’t miss the possession in her words, the territorial nature of it all.

“m’yours,” you reaffirmed with a trembling voice. “and m’sorry.”

“aw, poor baby,” mrs. price cooed, this time trailing a hand along the curve of your back until she reached the hem of your trousers, near where john was still rutting his hardening cock. “you want to make it up to us?”

you were nodding before she had even finished her sentence, which made her smile as she wrapped her fingers around the waistband and tugged your bottoms down, revealing your underwear and the curve of your arse. john groaned, stepping back to help his wife, pulling your trousers down your legs with one hand until they pooled at your ankles.

mrs. price then pulled down your underwear, causing john to groan again as he slotted himself back against you, holding you still. your arse was soft and warm against him, his hard, leaking cock nestled between your cheeks as he continued to slowly grind himself against you.

you moaned loudly, eyes still blurry with emotion when mrs. price leaned down to kiss you— shoving her tongue into your mouth and parting your trembling lips. you kissed her back (tried too) as she grew more and more dominant, her tongue probing and teeth nipping. you whimpered, and she swallowed the sound with one hand holding your jaw.

now, john had shifted his hard cock to rest the ruddy head against your cunt, smearing your arousal around your puffy clit. he moaned beneath his breath, the wet warmth of it forcing him to screw his eyes shut. when he finally notched the head at your entrance, he moaned your name, and you moaned his, breaking out of the kiss and whimpering against his wife’s lips.

“m’sorry for ignoring you,” you babbled as john’s cockhead nestled itself inside you, then stopped. desperation (and the stretch) making you delirious. “and m’so sorry for going on a date. i just wanted your attention.”

“poor girl,” john grunted, pulling his cock out and circling the wet hole with his tip. you moaned loudly and mrs. price continued to pet the side of your head. john looked over at his wife. “darling?”

his wife looked up. “yeah?”

“hop up on the counter,” he told her. “let her say sorry with her mouth on your pussy.”

she did as she was told as you whimpered at his words. still holding the back of your neck, john pulled you away from the counter so his wife could settle herself on top after wriggling her skirt and underwear down. she spread her legs, smiling warmly, and the sight of her soaked core made a whimper bubble out of your throat.

but before you were allowed to press forward, price tightened his hold and straightened your body, pressing your back flat to his chest. his cock, hot and wet between your legs, finally pushed into you. you moaned as he bottomed out, pelvis snug to your bare arse.

“see how wet she is for you?” price whispered in your ear, not moving his cock inside you. dormant and throbbing. “now, you’re gonna make my wife come on your tongue, an’ i’m gonna make you come ‘round my cock. got it?”

you nodded quickly, watching as mrs. price gently spread her folds open with her fingers, revealing her dripping hole. you whimpered again when she whispered your name as a finger encircled her clit.

then, price was bending you over once more, removing the hand on your neck and instead placing two on your hips so he could anchor you to him. he then pulled all the way out, slapped the head of his cock against your clit a couple of times, before thrusting in deeply and setting an even pace of fucking you.

you moaned as the movement pushed you into mrs. price’s awaiting cunt, your mouth sealing over her clit and your hands wrapping around her thighs to hold yourself steady. she moaned, arching against you, a hand shooting down to hold your head against her.

“oh, fuck, that’s it, baby. just like that,” she moaned, bucking her hips against your face as you moved your mouth from her clit down to her hole. you licked through her folds until you were able to curl your tongue into her hole. she moaned your name loudly and price grunted behind you.

his pace was brutal, hips slapping, hands a vice against your pliable flesh. he grunted with each thrust, a subtle “uh, uh, uh” beneath his breath as the tip of his cock hit that perfect spot inside you. he could feel the way your pussy tightened around him, fluttering wet and hot around the girth of his cock.

“that’s a good girl,” he praised, eyes sweeping from where his cock entered you, to where you were eating his wife out. “our good girl. n’ such a perfect fuckin’ pussy…”

you whined into mrs. price’s cunt, tongue swiping in and out, up and down, nose nudging her swollen clit. her thighs tightened around your head as she let out a string of pretty sounds, including high-pitched keens of your name and john’s.

john looked up at his wife, her eyes hooded with pleasure as she watched you, her hips writhing and grinding against your face, thighs flexing around your head.

“how’re you feeling, darling?” john asked his wife as he reached a hand around to roll a couple of fingers over your clit.

his wife moaned, locking eyes with him. “so fuckin’ good, john. she’s so good— making me feel so good.”

below, you keened at the praise, redoubling your efforts and really wanting her to come in your mouth. you shut your eyes and focused on fucking her hole with your tongue as they talked about you, praising you.

“she’s such a good girl for us,” john said. “such a good girl with a pretty little pussy. she’s perfect for us, isn’t she?”

“yessss,” his wife moaned. “perfect.”

“fuckin’ perfect,” john increased the weight of his thrusts, bullying his cock into the tight heat of your cunt faster and harder, drawing more pleasured sounds from you. he grunted with each movement. “fuckin’ perfect and all ours. isn’t that right, darling? she’s all ours.”

“yeah, all ours— oh, fuck, baby, m’gonna come,” she whined down at you, then to her husband, “john, john m’gonna come.”

“yeah? you’re gonna come in her mouth?”

“please,” she replied through a mewl. “want to come in her mouth, john. she’s— ohhh— making me feel so good.”

john chuckled. “go on then, come for her.”

mrs. price moaned your name loudly and, with your tongue fucking her through it, she came into your mouth. you moaned, the vibrations heightening her orgasm, her hand tightening on your head and holding your face hard between her legs.

by now, you weren’t far behind. the combination of john’s heavy thrusts hitting that perfect spot inside you, the taste of his wife, and the way they talked about you, made you tighten up and come around price’s cock.

you moaned, still muffled between mrs. price’s legs, as you came, your entire body trembling, a thin layer of sweat coating your exposed skin. john moaned along with you, feeling your cunt squeeze around his cock, making his pace stutter.

“fuck,” he cursed, balls drawing tight as his thrusts grew sloppy. “oh, fuck, baby.”

“come inside her, john,” his wife pleaded.

happy wife, happy life.

john released inside of you, coming right up against the base of your cervix with a guttural groan and his hands still clamped around your hips. his wife watched her husband fill you, and whimpered softly, pulling your head out from between her thighs and resting it in her lap, stroking you lovingly.

“good girl, baby,” she praised. “did so well for us.”

“she always does,” price affirmed, cock still inside you, but leaning up to place a kiss to the back of your head. he gave his wife a kiss too.

you muttered out something, a sated thank you as your high slowly began to fizzle away. but you closed your eyes, revelling in the way they touched you, kissed you, held you.

“what about i run you a bath and we can sit together for a little while, while john makes us something to eat, hm?” mrs. price asked you, holding your head in both hands now, rubbing your temples gently.

john huffed. “why can’t i go in the bath with her?”

“because i want too, darling. now be a good boy and fetch us something to eat.”

price grumbled, but listened to his wife, pulling out of you reluctantly to begin rifling through your cupboards. mrs. price then shimmied off the counter and wrapped you in her arms, holding your head to her chest.

she kissed the crown of your head. “let us take care of you.”

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo x f!reader. reader and gojo are married, reader is wearing heels and earrings. a little bitty love note for my valentine. wc 1.3k | divider thanks to cafekitsune 💓

Tuesday nights have long been decreed to be designated date nights in the Gojo household.

Bearing in mind how busy the two of you tend to be, this standing appointment doesn’t always work out the way it was planned when you started the tradition and there have been several occasions where you and Satoru have had “dates” in the form of sharing meals from miles away via video chat but tonight, he is all yours. In the flesh, a day ahead of what is widely viewed as a romantic holiday, and wearing your favorite dress shirt with a smirk across his face.

“So, I’ve been thinkin’.” He announces from across your walk-in closet, fastening the buttons on either side of his wrists and walking in your direction. Raising your eyebrows while you fasten in your favorite pair of earrings, you hum at him, concealing a smile to the best of your ability.

“That can be a dangerous thing.”

Your husband chuckles and joins your side, leaning down to press his face against yours. He steals a glance at your reflections in the small mirror atop your standing jewelry box and puckers his lips, turning his head enough that he can kiss you before suggesting what is on his mind.

“Remember how we used to pretend to get engaged to get free dessert?”

Snorting, you nod, attempting to secure the back of your earring onto the post keeping it in your lobe. Satoru grabs the small piece of metal from you and takes over, leaning down as close as he can to you to get the job done.

“I recall.”

Of course you remember all of the times he pulled a fake ring out of his pocket for attention, applause, and a celebratory slice of cake he didn’t have to purchase despite absolutely being able to afford it. The first time you were mortified, hot cheeked and taken aback by the possibility he may have actually been proposing to you, but each time it became easier to react the way that would make people happiest for you. Keeping the absolute lack of romance in his actual proposal in mind, you’ve always held these fake ones close to your heart.

It feels like he spent years proposing to you culminating in the real thing - how romantic is that? Both of you insist that you aren’t romantics yet the way you love each other speaks for itself.

“Let’s do it again.”

“Oh you’re dastardly,” you tease with a half smile, your palms smoothing out any wrinkles in his dress shirt while fiddling with the buttons keeping it closed. “You really want to?”

“Duh, it’ll be fun.”

Despite yourself, you laugh at your husband’s antics and remove your palms from his chest to slip your ring off. Your lower lip dips out in a pout with each inch the golden band moves and Satoru’s heart squeezes in his chest watching it. Maybe he shouldn’t have suggested such a silly stunt, no matter the laughs that would be shared over it later.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Nodding, you grab his hand and face his palm upward, depositing your band in the smooth center of it, followed by the engagement ring you wear stacked with it. Your left finger is bare for the first time in years and you wiggle it with a giggle, shoving it upward in the direction of his face.

“For old times sake.”

It’s a very good thing the two of you picked a restaurant that deviates from your usual plans otherwise this entire little plot would fail spectacularly. Tadashi, the chef at your favorite place close to your home, would have spotted the two of you in a second and given you a wry smile and tutted at your dishonesty.

“Are you sure this is gonna work? We seem pretty, I dunno…married?” You question everything happening right now, unexpectedly feeling a little insecure about lying. The click of your heels on the sidewalk perfectly mingles with Satoru’s footsteps that he intentionally shortens when the two of you are together. There are so many subtleties that will give you away including the mere fact you are obsessively in love with each other and fail to hide it.

Your husband simply chuckles and shakes his head.

“Hopefully they’re giving out the good desserts tonight,” your husband mutters while weaving his fingers in between yours and swinging your joined hands between your bodies. He’s so effortlessly boyish sometimes you want to be annoyed but find it difficult to be when the stars are twinkling just right and the cool air nipping at his cheeks makes them a rosy pink.

If you loved him less, you’d be more frustrated. Adoration is a balm that soothes most of your frustration with him at any given time so you’re happily preparing to go along with all of this, smiling at the hostess standing at the front of the restaurant when you enter.

“Two for Gojo,” he proudly states to the woman who whisks the two of you off toward your reserved table. You smile at her the entire time but you notice her smile dim after she catches sight of your joined hands. With a nod, she moves so you can slide into your chair and he does the same and you hum to yourself.

“That was weird, right?”

Satoru just shrugs and you roll your eyes, picking up the menu and scanning over it once. Your waiter arrives with a polite half bow and immediately, your husband’s face lights up. It’s too late to tell him to stop whatever he’s planning now, his right hand dipping under the table to fish around in his pocket for your engagement ring.

“Are we celebrating anything tonight?”

The server’s words immediately make you panic and your eyes widen when Satoru pushes his chair out and stands, presenting a very familiar ring in his palm. Taking a deep breath, you gasp and do your best to feign shock and surprise, noticing the same horrified look on the server’s face when he glances at Gojo’s hands.

“Yes, we are. We are getting married!”

Glancing at his left hand, you immediately notice what the shock is about. Rather than fuss at him you rush to cover your mouth with your right hand and nod rapidly as though you are totally taken aback. Holding your left hand out, he slips your ring back onto its home finger. He beams at you with every movement, practically bursting with joy, and seats him back at the table across from you.

“You forgot to take your ring off,” you whisper-hiss out of the side of your mouth and your husband looks down at his left hand that grips the edge of the dinner table. Sure as anything, the golden band you slipped on the digit years ago glistens under the low restaurant lighting and you fight the urge to giggle and blow the entire operation wide open. The clearly uncomfortable server bows his head at each of you, filling your empty water glasses for the sake of having something to do, before scurrying away with his head pointed firmly toward the ground.

“He probably thinks I’m your mistress now.”

Satoru shrugs in response, tilting his head to the side.

“You are my wife, my mistress, and the love of my life, what can I say? The plan worked perfectly if he believed it.”

Rolling your eyes, you reach across the table and run your thumb over his fingers and the gold band adorning his ring finger.

“You’re such a romantic.”

He smirks and wraps your hand in his.

“But I’m your romantic.”

The two of you are so lost in your own little world you don’t realize the server and hostess off to the side discussing the married man proposing to another woman, gesturing wildly at each other. Fake proposal aside, you are excited to have an evening to enjoy with the man who shakes your world up at every opportunity and he glances at the menu for a scant moment before turning to look up at you, blue eyes narrowed.

“Do you think they’ll still give us dessert?”

Laughing, you shrug and squeeze his hand.

“I think we should probably plan on just buying one this time.”

[chihoshisai]

Life Purpose

Nanami x Reader

cw : established relationship, heavy on loving feelings and fluff ♡ // wc : 637

After only six months of dating, Nanami had moved heavens, earth and even hell to prevent the innocent grin on your face from faltering.   

It was undoubtedly his first relationship, which could serve as an explanation for his excessive actions, and yet deep down he knew it would be his only one. That you would be the only one he would purposefully go through such length for. Despite still living in your respective places, he made it a point to drive you to work every morning, diligently waiting as you struggled through your disorganized morning routine. Whenever his schedule would allow it, he patiently waited near your office for your shift to end, leaning against his car as he held your favorite drink in his hand. And at the sight of your cheerful hand wave accompanied with the persistent smile that decorated your features, the intoxicating sight would make him smile so broadly, filling him with warmth and leaving anyone who witnessed the two of you seething with envy and jealousy as you leaped in his arms. 

His stoic, aloof personality had no place by your side — being replaced by great adoration, as his voice took on a kinder, soft tone; the words spoken with such lightness that he would send shivers down your spine as he lovingly breathed fondness against the nape of your neck. Being filled with the radiating sunshine of your presence, Nanami found himself smiling more, heartily laughing and appreciating life as he held you close, seemingly afraid that reality would make you slip away from his grasp like it once did before.   

Even when his unserious white haired coworker showed up uninvited during one of your dates — shamelessly taking off his shoes to sit between the two of you on the picnic blanket, he simply sighed at the disturbance and introduced you as the purpose of his life. 

“If you have a purpose, something to protect,” Gojo began with a smug grin at the look of the red apple color that appeared on your cheeks, “does that mean you’ll be willing to take on the work I came to offer you today?” he finished, well aware that regardless of the answer, he would enforce the task upon Nanami.

“I’m afraid it will have to wait,” Nanami placidly replied, suppressing the annoyance he felt towards Gojo. What followed was a series of exchanges between the two, as you watched the foreign sight of this stiff Nanami, discerning a hint of exhaustion as he discussed business. As he further pleaded his case, unwilling to cut his time with you short, he and Gojo came to the compromise that the task would be carried out the next day, as the latter left with a bitter sulk on his face.  

“Sorry about that love,” he apologetically smiled in your direction, whilst his shoulder relaxed at the sight of your comprehensive nod.    

It was the first time you had witnessed him choose you over work, and a hunch told you that it probably wasn’t the first nor the last time. You had come to realize that through the tender way he looked at you and the preferential treatment he gave you, the man that currently stroked your hair as though he handled jewels was without a doubt completely smitten by the modest accumulations that brought forth your existence. 

And as the pleasant blanket of the afternoon sun warped the atmosphere, you leaped in Nanami’s arms, being aware that letting such a man walk away from your life would be the biggest mistake you could ever make. So you held him tight, as he warmly welcomed you in his embrace, depositing a shower of kisses upon your head, before his lips went to find yours and enrapt you in the euphoric bundle of emotions he felt towards you.    

[jilyawards]

The Jily Fandom Rec List 2024 is a compilation of Jily stories our readers want to keep an eye on for this year's awards.

MAY

All The Lonely People (Where Do They All Come From?) (WIP, 4.9k as of 31 May 2024) by @nodirectionhome-ao3. Rated M.

James Potter is a Ministry agent. Lily Evans is a disrupter. But Lily is gone...a figment of the past... Or so James thinks.

Risky Behaviour (completed, 1k) by @jamesunderwater. Rated M.

Lily is determined not to get distracted during rounds again. Written for @jilymicrofics Mystery Microfic May Prompt 27: Risk

Sweet Seventeen (completed, <1k) by @jamesunderwater. Rated G.

James is dating an older woman. She loves snow. He loves... well, it's too soon to say it.

here lies (completed, 4.4k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“Were we expecting you?” He looks slightly horrified, as if he’s forgotten an important appointment, and turns to his wife for help. “I’m sorry if— “No, dear.” Euphemia shakes her head, moving toward him and running a smoothing hand through his mop of messy, white hair. “Lily here was just depositing our highly inebriated son.” “Oh, that’s rather charitable of her.” [or: James can't hold his drink, or his affections]

the same rule applies to goodness and grief (completed, 3.6k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“I need your assurance that if this all goes tits up and you end up dead, you’re not gonna haunt me for stealing your family.” “I’m starting to question whether your concern for my safety is genuine.” “Just can’t help it, Prongs. World's cutest baby. You and stupid Evans. Beautiful people. I hate you both.” “Good night, Sirius,” says Lily, shaking her head in laughter. [or: James is starting to worry Lily so she calls in reinforcements]

maybe it was egos swinging (maybe it was her) (completed, 11.1k) by @apalapucian. Rated T.

james starts rolling his shoulders, wincing. "jesus, evans." "back at ya," says lily, testing her wrists. "ever heard of taking it easy?" "with you? never." "can’t believe you’d use confringo on me." "knew you'd block it," he says. "can’t believe you’d use depulso." she shrugs, grinning. "knew you'd block it." (or: seventh-year, auror-aspirant, academic rivals, head boy and head girl james and lily.)

Hitchhikers May Be Escaping Inmates (WIP, 24.3k as of 31 May 2024) by @themaraudershavethephonebox. Rated T.

At eighteen, Lily Evans learned she had a soulmate. June seventh she woke up with scrawled text over her ribcage that could not come off in the shower no matter how hard she scrubbed, or with the wipes her mother used to get pen ink out of her father’s clothes, nor the acetone her sister used to remove her nail varnish. Lily Evans still believed in love, in magic. That she could fly. But the universe would not be calling the shots when it came to it fuck you very much.

Love for the Summer (WIP, 51.9k as of 31 May 2024) by @missgryffin. Rated E.

It's the summer after sixth year, Lily Evans is realizing she fancies James Potter, and James has Sirius Black's motorbike to thank for getting Lily out of the friend zone.

The Loyal Companion: A Tale of Bad Dates and Good Whiskey (WIP, 10.7k as of 31 May 2024) by @sophie-hatter-jenkins. Rated M.

Lily Evans endures a series of disastrous first dates at her new favourite bar, The Loyal Companion. Still, at least the whiskey is good. And the bartender is cute. Not her type though. Nope, definitely not.

Just the Two of Us (completed, 10.2k) by @arianatwycross. Rated T.

Head Students James and Lily face a perilous twist when a malicious potion surfaces in hate mail directed at Lily. Dumbledore orders a week-long quarantine in the Head Students' suite. With unspoken crushes lingering, the duo navigates close quarters, leading to unexpected revelations, lingering looks and forehead kisses.

silence and patience, pining in anticipation (completed, 1.2k) by @kay-elle-cee. Rated T.

Lily’s been hung up on James for years; a tipsy conversation might be the push she needs to do something about it.

A Heart of Coal (completed, 8.6k) by @wearingaberetinparis. Rated T.

They say fortune favours the bold, yet Lily Evans was given her death sentence at seventeen. As soon as midnight strikes on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, her heart will turn to coal. Gryffindor knight James Potter, however, is the last to accept such a fate. For while Lily Evans’ curse foretells her death, his foreshadows a life without his unrequited true love at his side. Written for the March Jily Challenge. Prompt: A curse will strike on A's birthday and that can only be undone by a dragon’s fire, true love's kiss or a fairy's tears. None of those three even exist, or do they?

meet you there (completed, 7.8k) by flagpoles. Rated M.

Lily Evans to James Potter: why is this bar called the horse and carriage btw James Potter: romantic gesture from binns for his ex wife James Potter: it was their nicknames for each other. wish i was joking Lily Evans: fuck me i would also divorce a guy who nicknamed me carriage James Potter: believe it or not she was horse Lily Evans: well christ // they work in a bar and things are going completely fine, actually

Check out the previous months' recs too: January, February, March || April

Happy reading!

[shoot-the-oneshot]

SUGAR DADDY

MODERN WARFARE MASTERLIST

Simon Ghost Riley x reader I can’t explain it but he just screams sugar daddy vibes you just know he doesn’t spend his money on himself why not spend it on you? Warnings NSFW minors dni this is my first time writing smut so be warned.

Despite practically living his life on the battlefield Ghost was more up to date on things than the 141 would expect, but this however he had no idea about until he overheard two privates that were sharing a plane with them that he heard about sugar babies for the first time.

“It's great all I have to do is buy a little gift and take her to dinner to keep her happy she never asks where I’m going or when ill be back it's perfect, especially for this job.” That was exactly what he needed and he knew just where to look.

“It’s just to pay my rent, I know most girls expect big gifts and vacations, but I don’t.” You stressed your point to the man over the phone, being your first time being a sugar baby you didn't know if that was normal or not. But having heard about how busy most of the men are that do this kind of thing you didn't think twice about the arrangement.

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, we're both getting something out of this right, just be there when I call and we have a deal.” His deep voice soothed you as much as it excited you, that was one of his terms, you never call him just wait for him too, which you didn’t mind.

For months that’s how it went, he’d call and direct deposit your rent at the beginning of each month, it was easy money. Then slowly things changed he’d call late at night, voice straining as if he was in pain as he practically begged you to talk about anything to distract him from the war you didn’t know he was fighting.

It would span from a song you heard on the radio you liked to embarrassing stories from your youth.

“I don’t believe you.” His gruff voice sounded almost playful through the obvious tiredness you could hear.

Laying back against your pillows ignoring how unbothered you were at him interrupting your sleep. “No seriously I’ve never had a real boyfriend.”

“You’re too beautiful for a man to not even try to make you his.” He spoke as if he knew it as a fact. The compliment made your breath hitch hearing it come from him. Shaking your head at how ridiculous you sounded, you’ve never even seen him.

“How do you know I’m beautiful?” Your question made him speechless, he’d forgotten you weren’t supposed to know he’d seen you. Luckily for him, your sweet, innocent little laugh saved him from answering.

“But no, no flowers no one to open my door or make me my favorite meal after a rough day.”

“One day, one day you will princess.” His deep timber voice washed over you settling his spoken promise into your bones.

Over the next few months, you had almost daily calls when he was free with some weeks of radio silence with only the occasional flowers and takeout from your favorite restaurants to remember him by.

You’d even call him your friend if only you didn’t imagine how good his voice would sound calling you his good girl as you begged him to make you cum wishing it was his fingers inside your drenched pussy instead of yours.

Moaning out his name as you circled your clit, hips raising off the bed chasing the pleasure, biting your lip hard enough you tasted blood trying not to scream out as you came, your fingers not losing their rhythm as you pretended he was easing you through your release.

Your shivered coming down from your high, your phone ringing made you jump as you rushed to answer it not noticing the name through your haze until the same voice you had imagined only minutes before met your ears.

“Simon!”

“You alright love, sound out of breath?”

Slapping your hand over your mouth not realizing you were still panting you swallowed the sudden lump in your throat. “Yeah just went for a run.”

The next day there were flowers on your doorstep crystal vase sitting next to a new set of curtains.

“Oh my god are those all Vivian Westwoods?!?!” Your friend shouted as you sat down for the weekly girls' night. Grabbing your hands, she examined the gold rings that went from your fingertips up to your knuckles the metal bending with your movements.

“Yeah, Simon got them for me.” Was all the details you gave, taking a tentative sip of your drink. to them he was your super mysterious boyfriend who showered you in gifts which to be fair wasn’t that far off. Just the title and the fact you’ve never seen his face.

You were so oblivious you never noticed the man in the corner, face covered by a dark balaclava. Silently watching over you like he did when he had time off. Ghost smirked under his mask as the warm feeling of pride filled his chest watching them fawn over the rings he meticulously picked out after seeing a man get too close to you one night.

He knew you’d pack a harder punch with your knuckles covered in the metal. Not that you knew the reason behind the gift.

Not being able to help himself he pulled out his phone sending you a text. ‘Call me when you’re free’ -Simon.

He smirked again watching you slyly smile at your phone typing before setting your phone face down on the table.

‘Okay daddy’

you blame the alcohol for the newfound bravery. After his text, you couldn’t wait to get out of the bar and immediately dial his number the second you got to your car. Making small talk until his voice got serious.

“I want you to meet me.” He spoke spiking your heart rate. “You can’t see my face but I want you. I’ll text you the address call me when you get there.” Your phone was still pressed against your ear after he hung up. Was this it were you finally getting to live your fantasy?

You couldn’t help but laugh pulling up to the adult store windows all blacked out a part of you hoped he wasn’t just going to have you pick out a toy so he could listen to you fuck yourself with it. You don’t remember quite when it happened but the voice on the phone has dug his way into what felt like your soul making you listen to every word he said.

You paused as your phone rang. “I’m here” “I know listen carefully.” You felt the excitement build in your stomach at the thought of him telling you what to do. “Go inside and go to the back room second door on the left and get comfortable.” You wordlessly nodded forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Can you do that for me love?”

“Yes.” “Good girl now go.”

Pushing your way inside you realize the windows weren’t blacked out, the store was just closed the only light came from the back lighting up the hallway he mentioned. You swallowed your nerves noting that this was how every horror movie started but for some unknown reason you felt safe.

Opening the second door you see a table backed up to a hole in the wall momentarily confused until you hear his voice from the other side of the wall.

“Don’t be shy love get on the table.”

“Fuck” you breathed out already feeling your pulse in your pussy. You listened to him and climbed on the table nearly moaning as you saw his hands through the hole wrapping around your ankles rubbing the thin skin with his thumbs.

“Remember we can stop anytime just say the word soap and I’ll stop.” Despite the haze in the air you couldn’t help but ask why soap. He huffed rolling his eyes on his side of the wall. “It will remind me of something annoying and make me stop.” He growls out yanking your legs through the hole up to your waist. You yelped in shock as he paused letting you get relaxed in your new position.

“Please.” You begged feeling his hands running over your thighs, squeezing and you hoped he’d leave bruises so you’d know this really happened and wasn’t some fever dream. “Please fuck me.” arousal fogging your brain. You don’t even care that you’ve technically never met you felt more secure and protected by him than you ever have before.

You recalled him telling you that no one has seen his face and that you couldn’t either but you wanted nothing more than to run your hands through his hair. Your thoughts distracted you enough that you didn’t notice he had stripped your pants off and cuffed your ankles to the wall spreading you wide open for him.

“Simon.” You moaned feeling his hot breath against your lacy underwear, breathing you in he groaned wrapping the flimsy material around his fist.

“Can I?” He asked between clenched teeth holding himself back with little restraint. “Yes please yes!” With your approval he ripped your underwear apart lifting the shredded lace to his nose moaning, stuffing them in his cargo pants pocket for later.

Your legs jerked against the cuffs as his hot tongue softly slid through your slit flicking your clit. Looking down seeing the top of his head dirty blonde almost brown short hair and thick arms wrapped in muscle and tattoos dug into your thighs and hips, pulling you closer and digging his face into your pussy as his licks got more confident the louder you moaned and preened.

Your head fell back against the table as you felt a thick finger rub around your entrance. Your mumbles of pleasure made him smirk against you, slowly pushing his finger inside you. The sloppy sound of your spletching coming from your wet hole as he pulled his finger in and out almost made him cum in his pants.

“Come on my fingers love, then I’ll give you what you want.” He breathed out adding two more fingers making you whine at the stretch and doubling down on your clit sucking it between his lips and flicking it with his tongue.

“Come for me, come for me.” The vibration of his voice rolling up your spine from your pussy making you explode in pleasure grinding your hips into his face the best you could. “Good girl just like that.” He spoke against you. “Yes Yes YES!” You screamed.

Just like you imagined he didn’t let up as you came, his fingers still moving riding out your high, as he stood up if you were paying attention you would’ve heard the zipper and shuffling of clothes.

“Tell me you want this.” He demanded slapping the heavy head of his cock against your sensitive lips. “Please Simon.” You whine, being ready to slide through the hole in the wall and beg on your knees if he wanted.

Choking on air as he pushes into you, his groan loud enough it felt like it was right next to your ear. His thumbs rubbed your waist helping you relax around him. Pulling out so just the tip was left then snapping back in with all the strength he possessed, pushing your body up the table.

Your moaning was making it hard for him not to rip through the wall separating you and pull you into his arms fucking your mouth with his tongue like he was your pussy. Pressing his forehead against the was he picked up his pace the sounds of his cock filling you over and over and skin slapping was pornographic.

“Give me one more love, now.” He growled. Your body obed practically coming on command you screamed clenching down on his cock milking him and making his hips stutter as he shook with his release. Slamming one of his hands against the wall.

After some time his hands softly ran up and down your legs almost massaging them from their stiff position as he caught his breath. “You okay love?” Kissing each of your ankles he uncuffs them. “I’m perfect.”

When you got home there was a gift box filled with the most luxurious bath salts and bath bombs and a still warm box from your favorite pizza place.

A few weeks later the 141 was at their go-to bar, sitting in the corner ghost was keeping a sharp eye on his pretty little bartender. As his teammates go shot for shot.

“Ghost help me with this round.” Glaring at soap he follows across the bar standing next to Soap as he tries to flag down the other bartender. Simon tunes them out keeping a subtle eye on you while you mixed drinks a wide smile on your face as you made jokes with your customers. He glared harshly at his teammate when he felt a rough hit against his arm.

“If you stare at her anymore you’ll freak her out.” Soap spoke patiently waiting for the tables shots and beers. “Wasn’t staring.” Was his retort. Making Soap laugh. “Sure LT…”

The conversation ended when your coworker set down the drinks, ghost grabbing his half while soap struck up another conversation with the bartender.

“So my big friend over here hasn’t quit staring at your coworker any chance you can tell me her name.” He asked making ghost tense “Soap!” He barked but quickly deflated as your coworker yelled to get your attention. ‘Shit’

Ghost was used to making himself look as big and as scary as possible to the enemy, but that all went out the window the closer you got he shrunk in on himself trying to appear less menacing.

“Y/n they were asking about you.” The bartender said patting your arm as she moves to the other side to take more orders. You looked between the two men with a small smile completely ignoring the balaclava covering his face.

“hello beautiful, I’m soap. excuse my friend here he’s not as much of a talker as I am but he’s been staring at you all night and this seemed less creepy than you catching him doing it so ghost, there you go.” Soap nodded toward you while ghost glared at him like he was imagining every way he wanted to kill him. To be fair that was probably exactly what he was thinking.

Your eyes shot to his making him swallow. He’d never seen you up close before, well not your face anyways your eyes sparkled in the low light of the bar making his cold heart skip a beat. Ghost lifted a single hand and shook it resembling a wave, Making you smile.

“I’m sure you’re a great guy but I have a fiancé.” Your words snapped him back to reality ‘a what now’ glancing down at your fingers finding a small diamond ring replaced the jointed metal ones he got you. his eyes hardened, grip on the bar top nearly breaking as he holds himself back from finding the man and breaking his neck. Does your fiance know you’re sleeping with him? How do you talk so late into the night for hours with a fiance?

“Of course, we will leave you be.” Soap nodded grabbing the drinks ghost abandoned and dragging him along back to the table. “I get she has a fiancé but a wave was the best move you had? No baby ghost running around soon huh?”

His words made Ghost snap, grabbing Soap by the collar and pulling him up to his face. “Leave it!” He growled, pushing soap back to the table where the 141 were now standing from watching their Lieutenant and sergeant toe to toe. Not that they would get between them price would be the only one ballsy enough to pull ghost off.

Pushing Soap back, beer sloshing out of the glasses onto the floor and his shirt. ghost stormed off to the other side of the bar finding a dark corner to brood in.

Words of “Was all of it a lie, did she play me, how did I not see it coming, I knew it was too good to be true.” All went through his head as he stared holes through the phone in his hands. The first photo you sent him staring back at him the same wide smile that was on your face on the other side of the room at that very moment.

How could she be smiling when she hurt me like this? ‘She doesn’t know it’s you dumbass’ his inner monologue spoke making his eyes roll to the back of his head in frustration. Deciding to completely ignore your presence lasted all of five minutes before his eyes darted up at a loud slap, finding you right in the middle of it.

He watches your shoulder raise and fall with a large breath, shaking your head you went to take a step away from the table full of rowdy college frat boys.

“Hey!” You yelped when the one that smacked your ass grabs a hold of your arm when you walked away, dragging you back.

“Where’s the fire sweetheart why don’t you take a seat.” The leader leaned back patting his thigh with a lazy smile across his face.

“I really need to get back to work.” Nervously laughing you tug at your hand trying to pull it out of his grip, only pissing him off. His smile dropped and he leaned closer yanking you into him causing you to stumble and fall onto his lap.

“I think you’re right where you need to be, right boys?” The table erupted in laughs as you struggle to get away grabbing the fork on the table and jabbing it as hard as you could into his arm. Making him exclaim and push you off.

Snarling he looked between you on the floor and the fork in his arm. “Fucking bitch!” You scrambled backward as he lunged for you. Closing your eyes you braced for impact.

Your eyes shot open with a gasp as shouting erupted throughout the bar. Only seeing a broad back standing between you and the table.

Simon didn’t know what came over him but the second you were manhandled into the man’s lap he saw red. His eyes scanned you on the floor for injuries as he moved between you and the men.

“Shouldn’uv done that” he gruffed out, nearly laughing as two of them stood to take him on grabbing them both by the collars he rag-dolled them to the side throwing them to the floor. Frat kids against a trained pissed-off soldier, it was too easy. Out of the corner of his eye Ghost saw his team move in to take the rest brave enough to stand up.

Ignoring the chaos around him ghost zeroed in on the one that shoved you. Wrapping his gloved hands around his neck pulling him close enough ghost could smell the fear rolling off the man in waves as he was face to face with ghost.

“You’re coming with me.” Dragging the struggling man screaming to be let go outside. This was exactly what ghost needed to let out his frustration.

Meanwhile, your view of the two men headed outside became obstructed by the man that called himself Soap earlier crouched down beside you.

“You alright lass?” He asked helping you off the floor as your eyes slowly met his and nodded. Soap led you to the bar and sat you gently on a barstool. Checking you over. As he looked you up and down you did the same.

His eyes shot back to yours as you laughed softly, “what’s so funny?” He asked, scrunching his eyebrows. By now the bar had cleared out and was quiet once again. “A Mohawk really?”

“A fork really?” He relates his accent sounding thicker with his deadpan tone. His question snapped you back to reality making you scan across the wreckage of the bar. Shattered glass all over, the floor covered in alcohol you’re sure you even saw a broken chair.

“Where’s your friend?” You gasped looking back to Soap and grabbing his arm. “Which one?”

“The one in the mask.” Soaps lips made an O shape before laughing to himself. “He’s fine I promise bastard has handled a lot worse than a few jackasses in a bar.”

For some unknown you were filled with panic at his words nearly toppling off the stool in your haste, rushing across the bar and out the door a small huff escape your lungs as you run into the masked man’s chest.

His arms wrapped around you catching you before you fell. “Easy.” Your breath caught as you locked eyes, dark swirls behind the balaclava stared back at you.

Ghosts arms slowly released you like he was clinging to the feeling of having you in his arms, with a sigh he dragged himself away from you and leaned back against the cold brick wall of the building.

“Um thank you for that in there.” You stammered fiddling with your fingers as he stares ahead at nothing. The only recognition that he heard you was a nod of his head as silence hung between you both. “What did you do to him?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Was his curt response after a few moments he sighed not being able to help himself. “Are you alright?”

Your brows raised in shock at his question. “No, I’m ok.” He looked unimpressed “He handled you pretty rough for a soft thing like you.”

“I had it handled.” You barked feeling the need to defend yourself even if you definitely didn’t have it handled. To your surprise, he chucked the deep rumble sent shivers down your back.

“I saw, doubt he will ever be able to look at a fork again.”

You smiled rubbing your arms up and down trying to warm up. “No, I’m not cold.” You lied watching him start to unzip his jacket and take it off. He didn’t utter a word just shook the jacket dangling from his hand until you took it.

The rich smell of whiskey and gunpowder and something just pure man filled your lungs wrapping around you so tightly you didn’t think you’d ever smell anything else again. You missed the way his eyes softened and filled with possessiveness simultaneously, seeing you in his clothes.

Then the bitter reminder bubbles up seeing your left ring finger. Speaking through a clenched jaw. “Your fiancé should’ve been here to protect you.” The silent ‘like I would’ hung in the air.

You laughed shaking your head as you moved to lean your back against the wall next to him. “I’m not engaged, Simon. It’s a fake to keep creeps off”

“Then why-wait what.” He stammered for the first time shock filling his body as you called him by name. Shyly looking up at his towering figure you nodded your head to the unasked question. “Your voice.”

Falling back heavily against the wall he pondered his thoughts the way you were gazing at him made it difficult. “What now?” He asked for once not feeling in control. “Well, I’d really like it if you took me home.” By the time you finished your sentence, he was already moving to lead you to his truck with a large hand warming the small of your back.

“You’ve got it, love.”

“Wait what about your friends?” You asked pointing behind you as he held the passenger door open. “Fuck them.”

Hii!! Hope you liked it let me know in the comments I wanted to write more of this but it was getting long so who wants part 2

If you liked this check out my other ghost works here

cod taglist request open

@sandinthemachine

[xxlady-lunaxx]

Stages of love | {SaneObaGiyuu}

Theme: Floofy angst !

Note: Is it bad i can't say no

Spoilers! + lil cw for thoughts of suicide/implications of sh

// I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE REQUEST, I MEANT TO DO LIKE TWO OR THREE PARAGRAPHS OF REMINISCING FOR THE PAST BEFORE OBANAI DIED BUT I GOT MORE LIKE 3.5k WORDS BEFORE I GOT TO THE ANGST 😭 THE ANGST COMES A BIT SUDDENLY BC OF THAT, SORRY

×××

For a couple months, Giyuu, Obanai, and Sanemi had dated. From outside view, it had come out of nowhere. One minute, Obanai and Sanemi were shitting on Giyuu, next minute the three were holding hands and prancing about like a group of princesses at a ball. But really, it had been a progressive year that led up to their relationship. There were the first peaks of interest in each other. It had started, perhaps, with Sanemi. He was the most brash of the three, as was known well, and in the same way quite rudely honest. Only, his honesty came in handy in some cases, such as this.

There was a time where he had to go on a mission paired with Giyuu. It had been a quick one, only taken to the task for the Hashira because there had been several Lowermoons in the area. But it was around that time when Sanemi noticed something different. Giyuu spoke to him only once throughout the four hours they had taken to arrive at their destination, kill the demons, deposit the injured to a safe place and bury the dead. Yet it was enough to spark an interest in Sanemi. 

Giyuu's voice was quiet and collected, usually without emotion. There was something about it, however, that was so... graceful, almost. His words flowed smoothly like water, whereas Sanemi spoke like a firecracker, ready to light on fire. But it wasn't the contrast about them that caught his eye—or ear, rather. Nor was it the words, really. If you asked him, Sanemi wouldn't remember what Giyuu had said that day. But whatever it was, Giyuu's voice seemed to stick into his head, repeating itself over an over. He tried fitting other words into Giyuu's voice. Sanemi. The name 'Sanemi' slipped over your tongue lightly, gently. It was mismatched, really, to the bearer of the name. But it fit Giyuu's voice, his mouth. Sanemi could imagine it, his lips parting to utter the name. It was like a calm river, a trickle. He wanted to hear it, suddenly. Wanted to hear his name spoken from the lips of the man he had detested since they day they'd met.

It hadn't hit him quite that suddenly, no. It came gradually. Giyuu's voice returning to his mind several days after the mission. He turned it over in his head, over and over. He came to the conclusion that he would press words from Giyuu's throat, he would force sound from it. He wanted to hear him again, hear him speak, hear him say his name. 

The name Shinazugawa was crisper. It was like a breeze that took a sudden turn, then returned to its peaceful state. It was alright, perhaps, to hear it spoken in Giyuu's ever-so-soothing voice. But Sanemi longed to hear his name. Sanemi. Sanemi, Sanemi, Sanemi. Giyuu's bluebell eyes flicking momentarily towards him, then back to the task at hand. Sanemi.

One day, Giyuu and Sanemi found themselves the last people to leave as the Hashira's disbanded from their second biannual meeting of the year. They glanced at each other. Giyuu was all but expecting Sanemi to shout at him again, or maybe regard him with contempt before leaving. But he got something considerably different and it caught him off guard, letting a small burst of surprise slip through his façade for a split second before his face settled to its neutral, slack expression.

"Tomioka, will you say something?" Sanemi had asked. He sounded gruff and, in future days, Giyuu would come to recognize that it was his tell-tale of embarrassment. His voice was almost quiet, maybe a shade brighter than Giyuu's. And it was so uncharacteristic of him that Giyuu was unsure it was actually Sanemi. But of course it was, who else would it be?

Giyuu tilted his head in Sanemi's direction, not responding. He didn't understand this request. Would he be chastised for having a quiet voice? Or be shouted at for not talking usually? What was the point of this question?

"Speak, Tomioka," Sanemi repeated, stepping forward. "Say something. Anything."

Giyuu, deciding that he couldn't think of any outcome which might come from this—and knowing full well he could simply leave—he spoke. "What do you mean?"

It was more than enough for Sanemi. He settled back, leaning against one of the pillars on the corner of the porch of the Ubuyashiki's Estate. His arms were crossed and his eyes glazed languidly over Giyuu's form, intent in his own thoughts.

Giyuu got no answer this time, which he considered as karma. People often complained how he rarely—or never—answered. He supposed he couldn't whine about it now, not when he always ignored others. But he stayed there, unsure of himself. 

"Shinazugawa?" 

Sanemi nodded once in response. Nothing more, nothing less. And it was all odd for Giyuu, of course. He didn't understand.

He would come later to identify this strange occurance, would he run it through his head once more.

"Nevermind," Giyuu murmured. Then, wondering if he should announce his leave, added, "I'll be going now. Goodbye."

Sanemi stood up, then, straightening himself. "Bye, then," he said, walking away.

Strange, wasn't it? Giyuu had gone home, mulling the day over, then had decided Sanemi was tired and acting weird and brushed it away.

Sanemi, on the otherhand, had found Obanai in his usual post on a tree. He had climbed up beside him, leaned against a branch, and stared off into the distance. 

"What do you mean? ... Shinazugawa? ... Nevermind. I'll be going now, goodbye."

Shinazugawa.

God, and what was there of 'Sanemi'? He wanted it—needed it—and it came as a shock to himself, even. What was there of Giyuu? Other than his eyes and his voice—of course, he was nothing! Nothing, to Sanemi. Nothing to anyone. But even that wasn't true, was it? Giyuu was becoming something. He wasn't sure what. But it was there. This small, nagging feeling that Giyuu was going to be something... more.

That was the start.

Usually, Sanemi was described as using his words in an almost brutal way. He cursed every other word, he spoke more insults than anything, only uttered a compliment once or twice. In his life, perhaps. But there were times his words came off as sweet, a honeyed tone, peppered with love. This was rare, no doubt. Would it ever happen?

Yes, it would. 

It shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone that Obanai and Sanemi's relationship progressed considerably faster than theirs to Giyuu. They were friends, of course. Best friends, even. Both found the other easy to confide in, often going on walks together to clear their minds, sparring or simply being in the presence of the other. 

In this instance, Obanai had fallen first. And he had fallen hard. 

Sanemi was someone to admire, if you put him under the right light. He was strong, he was honest, yet somehow caring in his own, aggressive ways. He would manage Obanai's eating schedules as best he could, bring small snacks for him. He was trustworthy, too. He could keep a secret—keep a promise. It was evident that nobody saw this in him, save for Obanai. People described him as explosive, angry, like a morbid dog. Behind his back, they would call him names, but tremble in fear were he to glance at them. They didn't understand him like Obanai did. Nobody did, really. Nobody bothered to.

Sanemi didn't mind insults. He only threw some back or ignored them. Obanai brought it up once and Sanemi brushed it off saying, quite reasonably, that people were going to say what they wanted to say and that was that. Either ignore them or waste your time being upset about it, it was your choice. And Sanemi chose to ignore them. He didn't give a single fuck what anyone said anymore, as long as they minded their own business and didn't bother him.

At one point in time, Obanai revealed his scar to Sanemi. They had gotten to the point where he felt he could trust him enough to show this one most intimate part of himself which only Kaburamaru had ever seen before. He figured that if Sanemi reacted badly, he would simply retreat from the friendship he had grown to love and keep to himself. He expected this to happen, in all honesty. He didn't expect much. But it went well, granted. Well enough for Obanai's eyes to open and take in all of Sanemi's cocky smiles, his tall form, his rough voice, everything. And consume it with all his heart, fall deep into waters of an ocean called Love, find himself too drowned in Sanemi that he no longer knew what had happened.

It had probably come in more than the instant it took for Sanemi to accept the scar. But whether it had taken hours or days or months, Obanai knew not. He only knew that he had sunken into this too deeply to get out in a matter of time. He was head of heels for Sanemi and he was not backing out any time soon.

Sanemi caught on, eventually. He wasn't an idiot. And Obanai was exceedingly obvious, flushing at any contact, averting his eyes when Sanemi pulled his top off during training, stuttering and stumbling over his words like Mitsuri. This was before Sanemi's eyes set upon Giyuu. So he considered it. He spoke nothing of his observations to Obanai until he was sure of his answer. Then he brought it up, so bluntly Obanai had all but fallen out of the tree.

"You like me, don't you," he had said one day. Not as a question, but a statement. He was gazing up at Obanai who sat in a tree, legs swinging slightly.

Obanai took exactly one second to register his words before he tipped backwards in his shock, barely staying on as his legs hooked around the branch quickly, making his body swing back and forth for a moment, blood rushing to his head as he hung upside down. Kaburamaru had gotten a more or less worse position, having fallen from his perch on Obanai's shoulders and was now struggling on the ground, tangled up in the grass.

Sanemi sighed and bent down, helping Kaburamaru up and standing back up. "One minute," he said to Obanai, who was helplessly trying to reach up and grab the branch.

He carefully placed Kaburamaru to the side then walked back to Obanai and tugged him down, carrying him to Kaburamaru and settling him down.

Obanai looked away, embarrassed, and quickly brought Kaburamaru back onto his shoulder, busying himself with the snake.

"How long have you liked me for?" Sanemi asked. 

"I never said I liked you..." Obanai mumbled, trying to defect the question.

"No, but it's obvious. You didn't deny it anyways," Sanemi said pointedly, crossing his arms. "Might as well tell the truth, unless you want me to throw you back onto the tree."

Obanai let out a breath. "Fine."

"Good. Now tell me," Sanemi said impatiently. 

"I don't know," Obanai mumbled.

"No? What about vaguely?"

"Since I showed you?" he suggested quietly. "I think."

"Showed me...?" Understanding slipped into Sanemi's expression. "Ah. Your mask."

"Yes."

"Got it."

Silence.

"Are you annoyed?" Obanai asked tentatively. 

"Annoyed? Why would I be?" Sanemi said curiously, moving closer to stand in front of him.

"I'm sure you aren't into men," Obanai mumbled. 

"Nice assumption. You're wrong."

More silence. There was an awkward moment of staring.

"Then you're not into me, specifically," Obanai said quietly.

"Wrong again. How many times can you be wrong?" Sanemi asked, amused by this.

"...you like me?" Obanai asked, obvious shock lacing his words.

"No, I like Tomioka—of course I like you! Was that not obvious?" He paused. "No, I guess I can't ask you that, Mr. King-of-Obvious. You wouldn't understand subtlety if it danced in front of you naked." 

"Shut up," Obanai grumbled. 

"Mhm," Sanemi hummed lightly. "So, answer me, Iguro."

Obanai glanced up. "Hm?"

"Do you want to date?" 

There was some sort of shocked silence—mostly from Obanai.

"What?"

"Do you want to date," Sanemi repeated. "You're not forced to."

"Oh- Oh, okay, yeah. Uhm. Sure," Obanai mumbled. 

Sanemi gave him a satisfied smile. "Alright then." 

And that was the start of their relationship. Romantic relationship, mind you. They kept it a secret. Neither wished to have publicity shined on their private lives. It started with smaller things but it fed to their affection to each other, making them grow closer. They found themselves entangled in each other.

Then Giyuu came along. Sanemi was, as stated before, the first to fall for him. Or at least find some interest that mingled—longer than anticipated.

Obanai saw nothing in Giyuu for the longest time. But Sanemi brought it up eventually, deciding he didn't want to dwell on it for too long. Obanai resisted the idea at first, which was reasonable. He gave in eventually, however, as he let himself try to shine better light on the man he usually hated. With this, he found his interest peaked slightly. He didn't see what Sanemi did, necessarily. He found himself more interested in Giyuu as a person, rather then why he was always so ignorant and bitchy.

It definitely took time to find himself fully immersed in this man—which was reasonable. Obanai's gaze was set on Sanemi and he refused to look away for even a second. But Sanemi's apparently sudden interest in Giyuu made him rethink a bit. He wanted, more than anything, for Sanemi to be content with his life. He didn't want to pressure him to stay with Obanai or anything that would make him upset. So he took the time to look into Giyuu. Maybe they could have some sort of relationship between the three of them, maybe it would make Sanemi happy too. 

To both his own and Sanemi's shock, Obanai found himself seeing some things Sanemi did in Giyuu. He found himself wondering how it would feel to run his hair through Giyuu's long locks. He was drawn to his eyes especially. The blue. It was beautiful, somehow. Not like an ocean that could swoop you away, no, but maybe like the little blue flowers that grew on the sides of roads, swaying peacefully in the breeze. Or like blueberries, small and sweet. Giyuu's eyes were a deep blue, like the depths of a twilight sky. He realized, over time, that he had fallen in love all over again. It wasn't as much as he had felt for Sanemi, that was for sure, but it seemed that in his attempt to please his boyfriend, he had ended up finding the humanity and Giyuu and things to like about him.

He spoke to Sanemi about this, after a couple days of wondering if he should throw away his pride. The conversation ended in both agreeing to talk to Giyuu first. After all, neither had been particularily... welcoming to Giyuu, so they figured that he would probably find nothing in them.

Giyuu, in fact, was positively shocked to know that the two Hashira who appeared to despise him most both liked him...romantically. But he welcomed the idea, saying that he could try to find something in both of them. It didn't come as a surprise—although it wasn't without its disappointment—that Giyuu didn't feel the same. Not at first, at least. So the three started spending a little time by themselves, away from prying eyes. The goal was, for Giyuu, to try and find interest in either or both Sanemi and Obanai. The other two—who had told Giyuu they were dating—only reveled in the time with Giyuu, not wanting to force feelings onto him.

But Giyuu, as Obanai had, quickly ended up captivated by the two. As he spent more time with them, he found himself immersed in their daily lives. It made him feel normal, too, not on the brink of death 24/7. Or at least that he could have a relatively okay life as of now. And with this, he could find the people inside Sanemi and Obanai which he had been mostly unable to see before. It was interesting, to say the least. And his interest was peaked.

He told them, after a couple weeks of mindless talking, that he had come to a decision. They were on a walk, it being a good day, and had finished sparring with each other some time ago. To cool down they'd gone outside—and it was nice, not too hot either. It had been a quiet walk, broken eventually by Giyuu who spoke up.

"Around a month ago, you asked me about... our... relationship? To each other?" he said, trying to remember the words they had used. 

"Go on," Obanai urged.

Giyuu nodded slowly. "Well you told me that after maybe a month I could decide whether or not I'd want to be anything more, or just not have anything to do with you."

Obanai let out a breath. "Are you going to keep us waiting?"

A ghost of a smile formed on Giyuu's face. "Sorry."

"Just hurry up," Sanemi said impatiently. He had been waiting longest, after all. Had liked Giyuu way before Obanai and had waiting for months for Obanai to accept this, then to fall for Giyuu too, and then for Giyuu to come to terms with his decision. 

"Right. I think... I think I feel the same," Giyuu informed them. "I liked spending the month with you two and... and I can see myself with you—romantically—if you'd still have any lingering interest in me." His words were delivered curtly, switching to his usual self as nervousness took over.

Sanemi scoffed. "Lingering interest? Bitch—I still feel the same. Stop being so fucking insecure or whatever it is," he said, crossing his arms.

Obanai mimicked his pose, nodding along. "What he said."

Giyuu's lips twitched into a supressed smile despite himself. "Alright..."

"So are you saying you're willing to date it, though?" Obanai clarified, wanting to make sure.

Giyuu nodded. "I think so."

"Think? Can you be more specific," Obanai huffed.

"Fine. Yes, I am saying that," Giyuu corrected. 

Obanai gave a satisfied nod and glanced at Sanemi.

"Then... we're dating?" Obanai said quietly, unsure if that's what it meant.

"Hell yes," Sanemi replied confidently, swinging an arm around Giyuu and another around Obanai before pulling them into an awkwardly uncomfortable embrace, laughing as they squirmed. 

"You're a lot nicer to me now," Giyuu remarked as Sanemi let go.

"What, do you hate it? I can be mean to you, if you want," Sanemi said, slapping the back of Giyuu's head.

"...I prefer you nicer," Giyuu mumbled, rubbing his neck.

Sanemi smirked. "Then don't complain."

"I wasn't complaining!"

"I feel oddly left out of this conversation," Obanai cut in, arms crossed.

Giyuu glanced at him. "Welcome to the club."

"Oh, shut up. You purposefully go out of your way to not talk to anyone. I don't do that."

"Fair enough."

Sanemi put a hand on both of their heads, patting them. "Let's go somewhere where we don't risk Uzui randomly popping up."

"We can go to my house?" Giyuu offered.

"Lead the way, Tomioka," Sanemi said and the three set off.

And then their relationship tilted and went much further in a spiral of emotions both sweet and bitter, leaving them in dizzying entrancements in the others' hands, lost in the darkest depths of their gaze. The relationship seemed to open up a lot of trust in each other, reopening past wounds on display for the other two to see. At first, it was a bit iffy and they tread carefully in the shallow waters of the shore of an ocean of trust. As time went on, their trust was built upon hundreds of many stepping stones. 

Obanai was, maybe, the first to depict his trust to them in obvious ways. Given that Sanemi was the only of his boyfriends to know about his scar, he had to make Giyuu turn away or force him to wear a blindfold in order to gain a kiss. It irritated him to the point he pushed away his doubts and showed Giyuu his scar. 

It had gone rather smoothly, such as Sanemi's. Giyuu still had trouble coming across with his emotions and tended to push them down or at least away from his expression. So his shock was barely there and he quickly recovered from it, placing a tender kiss along the rough crevice of skin along Obanai's jaw. Sanemi had been there to supervise, in case anything went wrong, but it all went by quite quickly and the three found themselves waking up entangled in each other's limbs, having fallen asleep in what would pass off as an embrace.

At first, they had kept their relationship a secret. But it got tiring having to restrain themself from throwing their arms around one of their boyfriend's whenever they met, so they stopped trying. They ignored any remarks about their relationship—though they weren't blind to them, knowing full well that the other Hashira were in complete perplexity over this—and went on with showing mild affection in front of others. They, of course, didn't want to put their full relationship in display, so kept it at minimum. 

Weeks crept past them, sometimes slowly, other times quickly. It was a gradual process of time that brought the three to a point which they felt they could depict the worst parts of themself and still feel safe in the comfort of their lovers' arms. Their ups and downs were experienced together and many times it was simply just the quiet presence of the other two that brought them feeling infinitely better.

However, its often said that good things never last. And it came quite suddenly, in fact. One minute, they were talking quietly amongst each other, slowly departing to their mission. Next minute they were admist a battle between Uppermoons, the loss of their master weighing them down. And last thing they knew, they were no longer three anymore. Sanemi and Giyuu found themselves the last remaining Hashira. 

For a couple weeks, they spent their time in the Butterfly Estate, crawling towards recovery. But neither felt much of the need for that, really. Obanai was gone. Everyone was gone. It was just them, now. The two of them, all alone. It really felt like that sometimes. And the silence of the makeshift hospital ward was deafening. There was endless time to be lost in thought but it often ended up with one of them in near tears, trying their best not to appear weak in front of Aoi who was much younger than them with many losses, yet pushing herself to the limits to tend to the hundreds of injured Demon Slayers.

Giyuu healed first. His injuries were lighter, despite having lost half his arm, he had lost considerably less blood than Sanemi. He wandered about aimlessly, wanting to go back to Sanemi but knowing he would probably be met with his sleeping lover. Several points in this time, he would go to the Hashira's graves. He, with the occasional help of the Uzui's, would pick flowers and arrange bouquets or make flower crowns to pass his time. He would place them onto the graves of the Hashira, and sometimes on the rank-and-file Demon Slayers as well. And Obanai's. Especially Obanai's.

Kaburamaru had been deposited to Giyuu at one point, knowing that he had been dating Obanai before—Sanemi had been far too tender to give the snake to, having nearly crossed the line between life and death—and Giyuu would place Kaburamaru beside the gravestone as he arranged the flowers methodically. He would talk quietly to himself, imagining he was speaking to Obanai.

Obanai had never been keen on words, but he listened. He didn't mind, he said. As long as he didn't have to respond.

So Giyuu would continue going there by himself day after day. Given his many, many times of solidarity, he would have an unhealthy amount to himself to think. And his thoughts often subsided in the worst ways possible. He would speak his thoughts to Obanai's grave sometimes, trying to pretend that Obanai was in his arms, listening. But it never worked.

When Sanemi was let out, Giyuu considered telling Sanemi how he felt. But he denied himself the possibility. Sanemi would be disappointed, and he was probably dealing with worse as he had also lost Genya. So he would bury himself in Sanemi's chest, trying not to cry as guilt filled his mind to the brim. Why was he here? Why not Obanai? Obanai deserved to be here with Sanemi more than Giyuu did. It just made more sense. Obanai and Sanemi had known each other for longer—at least had been closer for considerably longer. They had even dated long before Giyuu had intervened in their relationship. So why was it that Obanai died? Why not Giyuu?

And Sanemi would be silent, unaware of the thoughts flooding Giyuu's brain. His arms would rest around Giyuu's shoulder, eyes closed and head tilted back. They would be like this often. Silent. In fact, Giyuu wasn't the only thinking like this. Sanemi's thoughts ran quite similarly, his mind working up the hundreds of different ways things could've gone differently, wishing he hadn't been so incompetent. 

The unfiltered thoughts got to their heads eventually. Nestling a small space in their minds and expanding their homes until all they could think about was how worthless they were. 

Their katanas had been put away, thrown into a closet of some sort. They didn't need them anymore but the swords had been such an intimate part of their lives that they couldn't bear to get rid of them. 

The katanas resurfaced, however. Unsheathed. The blades, pulling their skin taut. For a moment, it hovered over their arm, or their leg, or their chest, unwilling to make a mark. Not another.

But then it was done. Blood spilling freely. It came as a momentary relief. They were feeling pain, they deserved the pain. But then it only stung, a harsh reminder that they were stupid.

Neither knew of each other's own hurting, though both felt similarly. For a long time, they simply avoided the topic of the gradually growing amount of bloody bandages in the trash. The towels, originally white but now pink from stained blood. They spoke nothing of it. Not until Tengen came along to check on them. Both were tired and weary, momentarily forgetting everything they wished to hide from everyone but themself.

Tengen had walked in and taken one look at them. Then he'd excused himself to the bathroom, stalking back with a roll of bandages he's supposedly gotten from the counter.

He had been furious and it hadn't taken long for Sanemi and Giyuu to realize that something was about to happen.

He had confronted them about the blood, made both Sanemi and Giyuu admit that they were hurting themselves, hauled them to the Butterfly Estate, chastised them the whole time Aoi tended to their wounds, then promptly moved in temporarily in their house.

Giyuu and Sanemi were both, somehow, shocked at the revelation that their partner was doing what they were themself. 

When they had been let home, the two had cuddled for a bit, silence casting over the room as their thoughts mulled.

"Are you okay, Giyuu?" Sanemi murmured, after a while. 

Giyuu nestled closer against his chest, eyes closed. "Are you?"

"Should we really answer this?" Sanemi said quietly, closing his own eyes and resting his head against Giyuu's. 

"Not if we want an honest answer."

Sanemi hummed in agreement, tilting his head down to press a fleeting kiss on Giyuu's forehead. "I'm sorry I didn't notice before."

"I could say the same."

Sanemi tugged Giyuu up, opening his eyes. "Why were you doing it, Giyuu?"

Giyuu frowned. "Obanai."

Sanemi's jaw tensed at the name. "Be more specific."

"I feel bad. Obanai saved my life during the battle at one point. At another, I was too late to save him. If it wasn't for Inosuke or Zenitsu or Kanao or whoever had moved him out of the way, he would've died. I wasn't helpful, and probably one of the reasons he did die," Giyuu mumbled. He felt a small sense of relief upon speaking these words. Often in the past, only saying what was bothering him felt like a huge weight had been lifted from him. He hadn't wanted to bother Sanemi, so he'd said nothing. But now it gave him a sense of nostolgia, hitting him right through his heart. He let out a breath. "And for you...?"

Sanemi was silent for a moment. When he spoke, he had completely changed the subject. "You know... you're talking a lot more now."

Giyuu tilted his head up, blinking, confused, at his boyfriend. "Huh?"

"Did you know that I fell in love with you because of your voice?" Sanemi murmured.

"No... I don't know why you ever liked me," Giyuu admitted.

Sanemi huffed. "Don't be an idiot, there's plenty to like about you."

"You changed the subject, Sanemi."

"I don't want to talk about that."

Giyuu gave in. "Fine. Go on."

"Well, I liked your voice because it always sounded so... smooth. Elegant, maybe. It fit your breathing form—water. It flowed like water and I loved it. Do you remember when I asked you to speak?" Sanemi asked, nudging Giyuu's head up to kiss him gently.

"I was confused why you told me to. I thought you wanted to berate me for having a quiet voice or something," Giyuu whined, remembering his confusion.

Sanemi laughed softly. It felt awkward, his face moving with muscles he hadn't prodded in a while now. The smile faded from his lips slowly. "I would play your voice over and over in my head. I really wanted to hear you say my name."

"Shinazugawa?"

"No. Sanemi. I don't know, it just... belongs more to me," Sanemi mumbled. "Shinazugawa is my family name, almost everyone calls me that. I didn't want to hear it from you."

Giyuu gazed at him. There was a sort of longing in Sanemi's voice, as if he had turned back to the past and found himself wishing the same thing as he had then. "I can say your name all you want, Sanemi," Giyuu said gently. "Do you like hearing your name? Sanemi? I like saying it." 

Sanemi's cheeks were powdered pink and he shifted, pulling Giyuu on top of him as he gazed up at the cealing. "I do like hearing it. From you, specifically."

There was a moment's pause.

"Sanemi?"

"Yes?"

"How did Obanai start to like me?"

Sanemi gave this consideration, heart throbbing at the thought of Obanai. He didn't want to think about this. But Giyuu asked—he wanted Giyuu to be happier. So he'd give him anything now. "I told him that I liked you. He didn't like you for a while, but he let me like you."

Giyuu frowned. "Did he ever like me, or did he just play along then?"

Sanemi shook his head. "No, no, he did like you. He fell for you too, eventually. But he never told me much about it. He just said he was starting to see what I saw in you. A bit after that we asked you out, and you know the rest."

Giyuu nodded. "Obanai never talked a lot so I didn't really know what he did or didn't like about me."

"Would you have changed if he told you his opinions?"

Giyuu shifted guiltily. "Maybe?"

Sanemi sighed. "I noticed you deliberately adapting to my wants. I was more talkative than both of you, probably. I'm not stupid, though. I could tell you were trying to change yourself." 

"...well I wanted the best for you," Giyuu protested.

Sanemi mussed his hair with his good hand. "The best for me is whatever's best for you."

Giyuu huffed but didn't protest any further. He propped himself up by the elbows, gazing down at Sanemi, his hair falling from his shoulders. "Sanemi?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Sanemi's expression softened. "I love you too."

"I also love Obanai," Giyuu added.

"...I love him too," Sanemi murmured. 

"Sanemi?"

"What is it?"

Giyuu paused. "You haven't told me why you were... that." He motioned vaguely to Sanemi's chest where scars much too recent creviced his skin in a raw red.

Sanemi's lips tugged into a frown. "It's... it's nothing."

"Sanemi! I told you why I was doing it, you have to tell me why you were."

"...fine. I'll keep it brief." Sanemi reached up, pulling Giyuu back down. "Genya and Obanai." 

"Huh?"

"I understand where you're going at with your explanation for Obanai. If I think about it, I can pin point several times I could've jumped in which probably would've saved Genya's life—whether or not it took my own. Same for Obanai. Kanzaki was saying something about it, but I wasn't really listening. Survivor's guilt, she said. She said that sometimes it feels better to have died than to have survived." 

Giyuu nodded slowly. "It's not your fault, Sanemi."

"It's not yours either."

There was a silence—neither comfortable nor awkward. More thoughtful, both consumed in their minds.

"Sanemi?"

"Yes?"

"Do you wanna see Obanai's grave with me later? We can go to Genya's after," Giyuu suggested.

"...alright. Tomorrow, though. I'm tired."

Giyuu hummed in agreement, nuzzling his neck as his eyes fluttered close. "Tomorrow."

"I love you."

"Love you... both."

A pause. I love you.

Obanai's grave was covered in flowers, most colorful that could be found. Every day they were replaced with fresh ones, the old ones buried like Obanai.

I love you.

Obanai.

×××

« Word count: 5563 »

When you write endlessly more than you'd planned to

this was supposed to only be 1k words! Wth 😭

I liked writing it tho <3

[beautifulmars]

HiPOD: Geyser Season

Springtime in the South Polar region of Mars is a season of exciting activity. The thick coating of carbon dioxide ice that accumulated over the winter begins to sublimate (turn to vapor) as the sun rises higher in the sky and warms the ice. Sunlight penetrates through the transparent ice, and is absorbed at the base of the ice layer. The gas that forms as a result of the warming escapes through weaknesses in the ice and erupts in the form of magnificent geysers of gas and dust.

This image captures some of this activity in a region near 85 degrees south latitude that is being monitored by HiRISE. What makes this image interesting is the changing directions of the fans left behind by the geysers, indicating that the winds blew from different directions at the time that the geysers erupted. Winds from the southwest produced the dark fans at both ends of the image, whereas northwesterly winds dominated dust deposition in between. Local topography probably played a role in altering the wind direction; this shaded relief image shows that this image traverses a trough in the South Polar layered deposits, which may have funneled winds down slope along the length of the trough. (Enhanced color image is less than 1 km across.

ID: ESP_056082_0945 date: 14 July 2018 altitude: 245 km

NASA/JPL-Caltech/UArizona

[spectersgirl]

Harvey and the reader get into an agrument (something juicy? About scottie?)at the office and she storms off.

And welcome to the perfect plot for part 2 of my mini-series! If you didn’t read part one, here it is

I didn't really proofread this too much so if you see something that doesn't make sense, no you didn't <3

This part is angst but it does have a happy ending

Something More (p2)

Harvey Specter x Reader

———

It had been six months since that first night with Harvey, and ever since then he’d been nothing short of a perfect gentleman. He made it a point to always open the car door for you, made surprise dinner reservations after secretly checking your calendar, and you frequently came into your office to find flowers, breakfast, coffee, or just little notes from him. They were little things, but they were things that no guy had ever done for you before. You never exactly announced your relationship to the office, but everyone had mostly figured out that something had been going on.

"Oooh those are pretty, I wonder who those are from" Rachel teased as she walked into your office, nodding at the rather large vase full of flowers. She knew about you and Harvey, of course.

"Check out the card, it says it's from a secret admirer" You said, handing her the card that came with the flowers.

“For the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I am so lucky to know you” she read the card aloud. "So I take it things are still going well with you two?"

"Honestly, things are really great. I know it’s pretty early still but, I can’t help but feel like this is the real deal. We've been opening up a lot to each other, he's been really sweet." You gushed.

"That's amazing! How did it go after he told you about Scottie? I mean I don't even know how I'd react"

You were puzzled, of course you knew about Scottie, everyone in the office knew about her and Harvey’s former relationship. For Rachel to bring her up like this, something else had to have happened.

"Told me... what about Scottie exactly?"

Rachel's froze, realizing that Harvey in fact had not told you about the recent development regarding his ex-girlfriend.

"Um, she's going up against Harvey on a case. She'll be in the office this week for a deposition. I'm sorry Y/N, I really thought you knew." Rachel apologized, feeling awful she had to be the one to break the news to you.

You’d known about his history with Scottie for a while now, he’d mentioned her to you and, through the work grapevine, you’d gathered that at one time Scottie meant the world to Harvey. The logical part of your brain knew that he wouldn’t leave you to go back her, but the fact that he hid it from you that she was coming into the office, gave you a pit in your stomach anyways.

"It's ok Rachel, don't worry about it. On an unrelated note, I'm going to see Harvey. Thanks for letting me know." You said, standing and smoothing out your dress before marching down to Harvey's office.

He looked up too briefly to notice the look on your face before he spoke.

"Hey babe, sorry I didn't come see you yet today, I've just been swamped."

"So swamped you couldn't seem to find the time to tell me you have a case against Scottie?"

"Excuse me?"

"Harvey, why did I have to find out about your ex-girlfriend coming into our workplace from someone who isn't you?" You pressed further, the anger bubbling inside your chest.

The look on Harvey's face was one you'd never seen pointed in your direction before, but you weren't about to back down.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't think it mattered!" He said, raising his voice now.

"Why would you think that wouldn't matter to me? You had a serious relationship with her and she's opposing counsel on your case, that's something you should at least consider sharing with the person you're dating!"

"What exactly do you think is going to happen in that room? I have work to do during a deposition, and the last thing that would ever be on my mind is sleeping with another woman who isn't you!"

"It isn't you I don't trust Harvey! How do you not see that? I don't know this woman, how could you expect me to trust her? I know she was in love with you, and I know that things have heated up with you two during cases in the past. I don't understand how you're blaming me for feeling like this."

He sighed, clearly irritated. He focused his attention back on the paperwork he had on the desk, not even bothering to look up at you as he spoke. His voice was quieter now, but still every bit as angry.

"I can't believe you're being this insecure over something so stupid. If you can't believe me when I say that I won’t allow anything to happen between me and Scottie ever again, then maybe we shouldn’t be together after all. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not that guy, and I thought you knew me better than that." He responded coldly.

You scoffed in shock. You couldn't believe he was actually serious in turning this around on you. Your stomach turned now.

"Insecure? Right, okay. You know what, why don't you call me when you have your shit together enough to figure out why I'm angry right now, and why that was fucked up of you to say." You said loudly, turning on your heel and storming off, back to your office.

You faintly heard him call your name as you walked, but you didn’t dare turn back, and he didn't follow either.

Not two minutes after you returned to your desk, Donna was in your doorway, a sheepish look on her face.

"Donna, it wasn't your fault." You said, not giving her a chance to even blame herself.

"I know, but I should've known he hadn't told you. I told him you'd want to know, I just figured maybe he'd listen for once." She explained.

You sighed, your eyes landing on the vase of flowers from that morning. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes, but you were fighting them hard.

"For what it's worth, he may be an ass but I know he cares about you, more than anyone I’ve seen him with. He can't see anyone else now that he's with you, I really wouldn't worry about Scottie. Harvey shouldn’t have said what he said to you, that was totally out of line. He’ll figure it out soon and probably come baring more flowers.”

The dam broke, and the tears fell. The hurt you still felt from Harvey’s words combined with Donna’s reassurances were too much.

"Thanks Donna" You said, sniffling.

She gave a sad smile before letting you know she had to get back to work, leaving you with a ‘hang in there’ as she departed.

You took a few deep breaths and wiped your tears before getting back to work, throwing yourself deep into your files. Maybe not the best coping mechanism, but it kept you busy enough to not think about Harvey. This worked for a little while, but slowly his harsh words would creep back into your mind, making you cry fresh tears all over again.

As time went on and the sun had long gone down, you felt your head start to pound. The time on your laptop showed 9:15 pm. You stretched a little, deciding to call it a night and head for home. It seemed that everyone else had left the office a while ago, if the silence of the halls rather than the typical hustle and bustle was any indication. The closer you got to the end of the hall, however, you heard music floating through the silence. If the office at the end of the hall belonged to anyone other than Harvey, you’d think this was the beginning of a ghost story about a haunted office building. The melody was somber. You walked forward, slower now, as you neared his office.

“Shit, why is he still here?” You thought. “He’s normally gone by 8 latest”

You stood there in the hall only inches from his door, debating on what to do. You knew he’d see you when you walked by, and even if he didn’t he would surely hear the elevator ding.

As you weighed the possible outcomes, you really had no time to react when you saw him suddenly walk out of his office, pausing too when he noticed you.

“Oh, Y/N. Hey, I was just coming to see if you were still here.”

“I was just going home.”

“Your home? Or mine?” He asked, in a tone that sounded like he didn’t want to know the answer.

You’d been sleeping at Harvey’s many nights since you started dating, in fact you weren’t even certain of the last time you’d slept in your own bed.

“Mine. After what you said to me, I don’t think I feel welcome at yours right now.”

It was only then that Harvey took in your appearance, and his heart dropped. You looked completely exhausted, the mascara on your eyes was long gone, and your cheeks and eyes were tinted red. He knew you’d been crying, and the look on his face was one of pure agony. He felt awful.

“I… Y/N I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Scottie. I just really didn’t think you’d care since I know how much I trust you. I lashed out and I yelled at you, and I shouldn't have done that. I didn’t think about your perspective, and I’m just so sorry. I never should’ve said that stuff to you" He said, slightly out of breath from his passion.

Tears openly fell from your eyes once again as you listened. You stepped forward, not responding. He reached for you, wiping the tears gently from your cheeks. You buried your face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around you firmly. He rested his chin on the top of your head, whispering how sorry he was.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly after a moment of silence.

“Please”

He didn’t waste another second before locking your lips with his. The kiss was full of longing and despair.

“I thought I lost you, and it was all my fault. I've never felt like this about anyone else, and the second I realized what I did I felt sick that I made you feel that way. I didn't know what to do.” Harvey rambled.

“Shhh, Harvey, It’s okay now. I’m right here, and I'm not going to leave you.”

He sighed in relief, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again and looking into yours.

"What did I do to deserve you?"

"It helps that you're handsome." You said, a smile growing on your lips.

Harvey chuckled, placing a hand on your lower back and walking you into his office so he could grab his stuff and lead you to the elevators.

"I'd love to have you over tonight, but I understand if you're not ready."

You smiled, grabbing his hand and kissing the back of it.

"If you want me to come, then I'd love to come over"

"Good. I don't think I could've gone another minute without you"

[holy-puckslibrary]

sid to a furry friend's rescue!

florist!reader gets flustered during sid's calendar shoot

parents mentors for the day

chief crosby's got a date... and its not with florist!reader

... was in a bit of a silly goofy mood, forgive me (and be sure to read the endnotes!)

gif from @littlemessyjessi

This is the last thing Sidney Crosby imagined he'd come home to: another man settled in his chair.

His cat is curled in the intruder's lap, and said intruder's hand is curled over your knee. And Sidney's soup—homemade and hand-delivered—split in bowls between you.

"Thought you didn't need a babysitter?"

Sidney watches the gleeful expression wilt on your pretty face—color drained like his bank account succeeding the egregious bid he matched to make bail—with equal measures of self-satisfaction and self-contempt.

"I-I didn't, I just—"

"Settle down, Chief," the ranger laughs. "I knew our little lady here was feeling under the weather, so I thought I'd stop by after my patrol shift and keep her company while you were indisposed."

Sidney glares into the bright cerulean eyes of one Anthony Beauvillier, a park ranger in the Atlantic Coast Uplands region.

If memory serves, he was recently transferred from Waverley to Blue Mountain but resides in Peggy's Cove. This is a 50-minute detour.

In the opposite direction.

The Fire Chief's jaw is painfully tight, his blood scalding. If it were't for his, albeit dwindling, sense of self preservation, Sidney would've marched up those two steps—recently refurbished at his hand, might he add—to forcefully remove the park narc's grubby paw from your body.

Mercifully—for all involved parties, you do so shortly and of your own volition before joining Sid in your driveway.

Guilt smeared over your sickly features, your mouth parts, an explanation hot on your tongue, but all that comes is a grizzly cough that stings Sid's chest just hearing it. Despite his vexation, he's patient with you; he owes it to you both to wait it out. He hopes this is just one big misunderstanding somehow.

But, before you're able, the absolute last person Sidney wants to hear from pipes up.

"Resting, ma biche. You're meant to be resting," Tito attempts to coax you back onto the porch—back to his side—with an outstretched, up-turned hand.

(my doe / my darling — reminder: see end for important notes!)

Not as quick with his French as he'd like to be, he growls at the perceived insult. However, rather than running his fist through the opposition's teeth in your honor, Sidney defiles it.

The park ranger, and everyone else who happens to be out and about tonight, are treated to an unexpected eyeful of their Fire Chief's innermost feelings rushing to the surface. They pour into your mouth with reckless abandon, unconcerned with his public image or the utter lack of privacy; this kiss could be broadcast on the Nightly News for all he cares.

All that matters to Sidney Crosby is making his intentions known, and crystal fucking clear. Staking his claim is just a bonus.

"Well, it looks like my work here is done."

At your dazed expression and Sid's bewilderment, Tito stands from the rocking chair with a genuine smile fixed on his face. As he deposits evergreen Stetson atop his wind-swept hair, he pauses.

"Y'all have a nice night," he winks with a tip of the brim, bidding you farewell before slipping into his government-issued Ram.

As gravel crunches under the vehicle's wheels, gears click into place behind Sidney's burnt umber eyes, now gleaming with clarity.

"Nate and Emmy." — Statement, not a question.

"Please, don't be angry. They just wanted to help because... because I didn't believe that... y'know." You gesture to the sliver of space that still separates you, a bashful little smile pushing up your feverish cheeks.

He couldn't find it in himself to be ticked off about your best friends' not-so-harebrained scheme—which, honestly, deserved more credit than he would ever be willing to give it—if he wanted to. Not while standing so close he can smell the PEI tulips you've been elbow-deep in all month, and definitely not having tasted the whisper of herbal tea lingering on your tongue.

Smirking, he closes the gap with a gentle tug.

"Oh, I know." Voice dropping to a thick hush, his lips hovering a lick above your skin, "D'you believe it now?"

The pinkish skin crinkles around his warm eyes as you pretend to think.

"I could do with a little more... convincing," you ultimately quip. "But, only if you're up for the t—"

The remainder of your cajoling is overtaken by a fit of giggles as he corrals you up and across the porch. The front door slams shut with a satisfying air of finality. Though, not before little Ember slips in with you.

Chief Crosby was thorough by nature, and he'd be damned if he didn't dedicate the evening to dispelling any and all doubts threatening to take root. Feigned, or not.

—

gotcha! teehee 😋 sid really said sick germs?? no match for my LOVE!!! ALSO! tito anon, this ones for you bbyyyyy 💓💓💓💓

***** 'ma biche' was chosen because its typically humorous and rarely intended seriously, + can be considered majorly outdated (even by 60s sitcom standards)—and its not always romantic! ... it also sounds a lot like an english insult, hence sid's reaction lol (at least, according to my french-canadian grandmother who remains very confused by my random call for a french lesson on infrequently used terms of endearment lol) *****

as always, i would really appreciate if you reblogged my work, left a comment or dropped by my inbox w some feedback :) fandom runs on engagement, and so do writers!! thx a mil in advance!

[hoejosatoru]

Crush

“Can you read my mind, I've been watching you.” 

Pairing: Fem!reader x Bonten! Mikey

Summary: You’re the secretary of Bonten and Mikey gets very jealous when Ran tries to take you out on a date.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Jealousy, Mikey fantasizes about shooting Ran lol, drinking, scratches/blood, bruising, possessiveness/jealousy, fingering, cream pie, squirting, sorta voyeurism if you stand on your head and squint, pet names like baby, angel, etc

You sat at your desk, a rich, dark mahogany, thumbing through the paperwork you would have to complete by the end of the day. Being a secretary at Bonten was unlike any other job you had. Paid a hell of lot better, too. You knew, though it was not what it seemed. When you were hired, you were told it was an office supply company. Well, you’ve been working there for nearly a year and you haven’t seen so much as a pencil being delivered. You kept your mouth shut, which kept the direct deposits coming every 2 weeks. That’s all that mattered.

Your lack of concern for what the men you worked for did was exactly why you still had the job. Mikey, the boss, never really bothered to learn the names of the secretaries. They came and went like the changing of tides. By the time he learned a name they were gone. He didn’t care enough to keep up. But your name he knew.

No secretary has lasted this long. They usually start asking too many questions, which leads to a very large severance package and a detailed description of what would happen to them if they ever shared about their time working there. So far it has proven to be a very effective method.

The second, and frankly more annoying, reason secretaries left was because of his asshole subordinates fucked around with them and broke their hearts. No matter how many times he’s told them not to shit where they eat, they can’t help themselves. Dogs, all of them. Sometimes Mikey felt like the only one who thought with his head instead of his dick. And the girls were all too eager to fall all over themselves for these shit men. It was all so high school and predictably pathetic.

And, predictably, Takeomi and Mochi had been the first to approach you. The age gap between them and the girls who worked there never seemed to phase them. Mikey rolled his eyes at how utterly shameless they were. But you said no to both of them. That was the first day Mikey bothered to read the nameplate on your desk. Y/n, he tucked it away in his brain.

Next was Sanzu. He asked you to come over to his place and test out some “product.” You politely declined. Smart girl, Mikey remembers thinking. The next was Rindou, another rejection. Then Koko, which was particularly unique since he rarely ever got involved with women at work. Mikey respected that about him. Yet it was still no.

Mikey’s interest in you was thoroughly piqued at this point. No woman has ever lasted this long, nor turned down so many of his subordinates. He chuckled each time one of them walked into the board room with a dejected face. The only ones who had not taken a crack at it were Ran and Kaku and as Mikey listened to Ran chat you up, he realized that was about to change.

Mikey swirled the whiskey in his glass, rolling his eyes at how Ran tried to flirt. He was so sleazy. Out of all his subordinates, Mikey liked Ran the least. He was smug, obnoxious, and loved walking the line of insubordination. Mikey could always feel his eyes on him during meetings and knew he wished he could take him place. Over my dead fucking body, Mikey thought. At times Mikey wished he could just toss Ran out, but he and Rindou were a package deal. Regrettably, he could not stand to lose both of them. So he grit his teeth and beared it.

“So when can I take you out?” Ran asked.

“Oh, I don’t know…” Mikey smiled, sipping his drink. He couldn’t wait to see Ran’s stupid fucking face after you rejected him.

Ran pressed on, “A pretty girl like you deserves to be taken out somewhere nice. Bet you look even better all dressed up.”

“You don’t think I look nice now?” you countered. Mikey leaned forward in his seat, loving that you were giving him an attitude. He didn’t wanna miss a second of it. He downed the last drop of whiskey.

“‘Course you do darling.” Mikey could practically hear Ran’s slick grin. “That’s why I’d love to see you this Saturday. It’s torture waiting the whole weekend to see you again.” Mikey braced for your answer.

“Okay.” The air escaped his lungs in a rush. Okay? Okay?! How could you have said no to everyone, but yes to Ran. Mikey didn’t realize he was gripping his glass so tight until it shattered in his hand. He didn’t bother to clean the glass shards off the table even as the other members started to file into the board room. They gave him a quizzical look, but knew better than to ask.

Ran filed in last, the smuggest smile on his face. Hatred burned through Mikey more than the whiskey did. “Looks like I’ll be keeping y/n company Saturday,” he announced after shutting the door behind him.

“No fucking way,” Takeomi replied. Sanzu groaned and passed money to Rindou. Rindou had known better than to bet against Ran when it came to women.

“Why the fuck did she say yes to you?” Koko asked exactly what Mikey was thinking. The thought of promoting Koko passed vaguely through the storm of Mikey’s mind.

“You all ever consider I might just be better than you?” Ran asked, hands collapsed behind his head like an asshole. He caught Mikey’s eye, picking up on the contempt rolling off of him. “Except you of course, boss.”

“Of course,” Mikey replied icily. He nodded to Sanzu to start taking over the meeting because he frankly couldn’t think straight. Ran looked so fucking smug it made him sick to his stomach. He fantasized about pulling the gun he had under the table out and blowing his brains out. Even he knew that would be a bit drastic.

He had to look away from Ran, or he knew his anger would consume him. Yet he couldn’t shut his thoughts off. He knew what a womanizing sleaze Ran was, knew that on Monday he would come back to this very room and tell them all, in detail, what he did to you. What you looked like, how you felt, how you tasted. Ran always shared the sordid details of his conquests in bed. Mikey found this habit irritating on most days, but with you? Oh, he would definitely put a bullet in him. He could not have Ran defile you.

It dawned on Mikey, through his haze of hatred, that he was jealous. That he wanted you for himself. Somehow he had let his interest in you develop into a crush. He was going to make you his. He sat back in his chair and started planning.

***

A knock came at your apartment door about an hour earlier than expected. Funny, you didn’t expect Ran to be the type of man to be early. You were about half ready. Your makeup was done, but your hair was unstyled . You were in the process of trying on different dresses when you heard him at the door. Leave it to Ran to arrive when you had on the most revealing dress of them all.

But when you open the door, it was not a tall lilac-haired man who greeted you it was-

“Mikey?” You were too surprised to address him properly. “What are you doing here?”

“May I?” He ignored your question, gesturing to the inside of your place. You stepped aside, allowing him in. A million questions popped up in your mind that you couldn’t focus on because he looked so fucking good. He was dressed in sleek black pants and a silky black button down. A gold chain glistened against his chest. It was simple, but you reckoned it cost more than most of your wardrobe.

He sat down comfortably on one of your living room chairs. It was strange seeing him here. Out of place like when it rains, but the sun is still shining. He looked at you, eyes unreadable.

“I’m going to get us some drinks,” you announced, disappearing into the kitchen. There was a flutter in your stomach, one you weren’t entirely sure was excitement or fear. You knew Mikey was here for a reason and until you knew why, you’d have to settle for being somewhere in the middle.

Mikey observed you coolly as you placed a glass of whiskey, neat, in front of him. He noticed your glass was the same. He took a sip. It was his favorite.

The quizzical look he gave you did not go unnoticed. “I saw you drink it and was curious.” You took a sip and smiled, settling into the seat across from him. “You have good taste.”

Mikey secretly loved that you’d been observing him. He was impressed that he hadn’t even picked up on it. But he loved most the idea of you thinking of him when he wasn’t around. That you went to the store, bought a bottle just because of him, and drank here, in your own space. He became a part of your life outside of work without even trying. He took another sip of the whiskey, suddenly loving it even more.

“What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

Mikey looked you and down, really taking you in for the first time since he got here. The dress you had on left little to the imagination, yet he found himself wanting to rip it off, needing to see what was underneath. He loathed the idea of Ran seeing you dressed like this, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you. Your lips were lacquered, making them look exceptionally plush. He wanted to bite into them, wanted to hear you gasp when he did.

“Do you like Ran?” No point in dragging things out. He wasn’t a very patient man, especially not with you looking like that.

You blinked, but did not seem shocked by the question. “Is this some sort of test?”

Mikey considered that. There was an answer he was hoping for, surely, but he also knew he wasn’t going to hurt you if he didn’t get it. A luxury he rarely afforded others. He would just be very, very disappointed. “It’s just a question.”

“Any woman who likes Ran is an idiot,” you answered. The twitch up at the corner of Mikey’s mouth told you that you answered correctly. “You don’t like him, either.” That was not a question

“Not particularly, no,” Mikey replied, sipping, “but I’m more interested in your thoughts of him.” The more he spoke with you, the more he felt drawn to you. You were smart and observant. If you were afraid or uncomfortable with his presence, you didn’t show it. Not many people were so calm around him. He wondered briefly if your talents were being wasted as a secretary, but he lost the thought as you began to speak again.

“Ran is not very…” you took a sip, letting the whiskey roll around your tongue as you considered your words, “interesting.”

“No?” Mikey could hardly hide his amusement. Any prickles of fear you felt were melting away. You played this exactly right.

“No,” you confirmed, “men like him are a dime a dozen. All sweet talk and full of shit. I know the second I gave him what he wanted he’d leave.” You finished, draining your glass, setting it down on the coffee table between the two of you. There was a hint of challenge in your eyes as you looked at Mikey. “You, on the other hand, are very interesting.”

Mikey finishedhis  drink, relishing your words. He loved that he intrinsically had something Ran did not, something that sparked desire in you. He could practically feel it coming off you in waves. He knew if he slid his hands between your thighs you’d be soaked. Still he wanted to hear you say it. Savor this moment a little longer. “How so?” He set his glass down, looking at you. Challenge accepted.

You stretched lazily, your dress riding up impossibly higher. Mikey was dying to know what your thighs felt like wrapped around him. “Well for starters you didn’t descend on me like a starved animal,” you said. “Either everyone who works for you gets no pussy or they’re terminally horny. I’m not sure which is worse.”

Mikey smiled at your assessment of his subordinates. You certainly were not wrong.

“But really what I found most fascinating is how they treat you. Most men aren’t afraid of someone of your… stature.” You paused, making sure you weren’t stepping on any land mines.

Typically, Mikey hated when someone commented on his size. They always came with the implication that he was inferior. However, he did not think that was the direction you were going. He nodded, allowing you to continue.

“Men love their pissing contests. They’re such visual creatures that they end up blinding themselves,” you explained. “Men think size is everything.” You smiled coyly. “Yet all these men fear you. You command their respect and unequivocal loyalty without even having to try. That tells me there is so much more to you than meets the eye. And that is very interesting.”

Your appraisal of him made Mikey’s whole body buzz with desire. His cock throbbed wanting to be buried inside you; his fingers twitched wanting to squeeze your flesh. But he still needed to know. “So why did you say yes to Ran?”

Your head fell back as you laughed, as if you shared an inside joke. “Oh, Manjiro,” you sighed, “Because no man is immune to jealousy.”

If he hadn’t been so turned on by the way you said his name - his real name - it wouldn’t have taken him the extra second to process what you meant. You knew he’d be jealous if you went out with Ran. You used his subordinate like a pawn. It was never Ran you were interested in, it was alway him. Oh, he might just be in love.

“Come here.” You obeyed him immediately, much to his delight, crossing the small space between the two of you. When you were just a half step away Mikey sprung up, unable to wait another second without touching you. His lips found yours, loving how his favorite whiskey tasted on you. He bit into your soft lower lip, savoring the little moan that escaped. Even better than he imagined. Your thigh inched up his side and he gripped it tight, squeezing the plush flesh. He pulled away for a second to breathlessly state, “Jump.”

You wrapped your legs around him easily. Your dress fully hiked up, revealing burgundy lace panties. He smiled; it’s his favorite color. Your clothed pussy was pressed against his hard on, making him damn near feral. He carried you with ease to your bedroom. He was small, sure, but he was strong.

Mikey dropped you on bed, immediately climbing on top of you. You heard the tearing of fabric as he, quite literally, ripped the dress off your body. “Mikey!” you huffed.

He was unphased by your vexation. “I’ll buy you another one.” His lips were on yours again, preventing any further complaint. He squeezed your exposed breast, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You gasped, pressing into his touch. “So sensitive.” A bemused smile played at his lips as he kissed down your neck.

You slid your hands under his shirt, feeling the toned muscles of his torso. You yanked open the shirt from the inside, causing the top two buttons to fly off. Mikey chuckled. “Desperate too, huh? If you want my shirt off, baby all you gotta do is ask.” He reached back with one hand pulling the shirt off with ease and tossing it to the floor by your tattered dress. While he was at it, he undid the button of his pants, revealing the waistband of his boxers. You hooked your finger into them, pulling him closer to you. He kicked off the pants without missing a beat.

You reached down to squeeze his cock, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. “And greedy? Someone’s gotta teach you to behave.” He nipped at your clavicle. Mikey’s free hand slid down beneath your underwear. He let his fingers slip through your slick, loving how wet you got for him already. He teased your clit before pumping his fingers inside you, then repeated it. You squirmed beneath him, unable to break the vice grip he had on your wrists.

“Mikey - fuck, wanna t-touch-nngh.” He rubbed on your clit as you tried to speak, making it impossible to get the words out.

“What was that angel? Couldn’t understand you,” he feigned confusion.

“Wanna- oh-” he rubbed your g-spot. “Touch you please. Let me.” You babbled, breathless. You tried grinding your hips against him, but Mikey leaned his weight against you, immobilizing you.

“You can touch me once you’ve cum all over my fingers.” His middle two fingers were fucking you deep and fast. He curled his fingers, pressing the spot that made you go dumb. He marveled at the way you squirmed and gasped, loving that he could get you like that with just his fingers. The base of his palm brushed against your clit with each thrust of his fingers inside you. The coil in your stomach snapped, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you moaned his name. “Good fucking girl.”

Mikey released your wrists and your hands flew to his neck, pulling him for a deep, sloppy kiss. One of your hands went down, stroking his rock-hard cock through his underwear. Mikey groaned into your lips. “Fuck me, Mikey, want all of you.” You felt him throb at your words.

Mikey’s eyes were dark with lust as he took in the sight of you: flushed cheeks, hair a mess on the pillow, makeup smudged, begging for him. How could he deny you? “Gonna fuck you so good, baby.” He kicked off his boxers. He took his cock in his hand, pumping a few times. “And you’re going to scream my name. My real name. Got it?” You nodded, earning a slap on your clit. You yelped. “You speak when I ask you a question.”

“Yes, Manjiro,” you purred, running a finger along the tattoo you knew he had on the back of his neck. Mikey ran his cock through your soaked lips, letting his precum mix with your arousal. Each time his cock nudged your clit you jumped. He’d tease you all day if his balls weren’t aching so bad.

Your nails dug into his back as his cock pressed into you. “Fuck Mi-Manjiro, ‘s so big.”  You weren’t expecting such a stretch, but god were you wrong.

“Pussy so tight for me.” Mikey gripped the sheets next to your head to steady himself. He bottom out with a low groan. Mikey rocked his hips into you slow, feeling each little clench of your pussy. “So needy squeezing me like that. Never had dick like this, huh?”

“No, never,” you babble, “So fucking good.” Mikey quickened his pace, needing to see come undone again, to feel your pussy cum all over his cock. He hooked a hand under your knee, pressing it up to your chest. The deeper angle had you gasping. “Oh, Manjiro.”

“That’s right, y/n, who’s making you feel this good?” His grip tightened around your thigh, surely to leave a bruise.

“You Manjiro, only you,” you responded. So obedient, he thought. He silently rewarded that by rubbing circles over your sensitive clit. The unexpected sensation pushed you over the edge again, your pussy clenching against his cock. The pleasure spreading through your body was white hot. Mikey didn’t let up on your clit, making the pleasure borderline unbearable. You felt a strange sensation, gasping. “Wait too muc-ohh fuck.” Your nails dug into his pack, drawing blood as your pussy gushed, soaking Mikey.

“Fucking hell,” Mikey moaned, losing his composure. He let his head fall back as he came, filling your aching pussy with his release. Your pussy was fucking heavenly, making him cum harder than he has in a long time.

“What the fuck?” A voice made you jump. You peaked over Mikey's shoulder, eyes widening as you found Ran standing in your doorway. Through the fog in your brain you realized Mikey never locked the door after coming. This was purposeful on his part, of course. He knew Ran couldn’t resist a pretty girl’s unlocked door. Mikey was smug and beaming. He hoped Ran got to see you squirting for him. It would be the first and only time he’d allow him to see you like this. The look on his face was so worth it.

“Oh? Did you have plans?” Mikey asked meanly.

“Asshole,” Ran stormed off. Normally, Mikey would never let Ran get away with speaking to him like that, but he was too high on fucking you and his plan working perfectly. Plus, he knew when Ran didn’t have much to say it meant he was really upset. Mission accomplished.

But of course, Mikey can never leave well enough alone. That Monday you found a little gift wrapped box on your desk. It contained a gold necklace with “Manjiro” in script and a note telling you to join the board meeting at 1pm. Mikey sat you on his lap, name shining around your throat, claiming you for all his subordinates to see. He’s never seen Ran look so pissed. He gave your ass a squeeze, thinking of everything he was going to do to you on that table the second the meeting ended.

[da-rulah]

I’m super sorry for bothering you and asking for sm writing 😭 but I js have like one..if and when you can , do you think you can write something about the papas pampering and caring for their s/o that’s on their period? I don’t really see much people on here writing abt the papas like caring or pampering their lover 😭 super sorry again!! <3

TMI but I came on my period yesterday and today it's absolutely debilitating so what better time to do this request...

Reader has female anatomy, but can identify as any gender.

Primo

He's an old hand at this. He knows you well enough by now to know it's coming when your mood starts to swing in any direction and you start to complain that your nipples are hurting.

When you're couch-bound on day 1, he waits on your hand and foot and refuses to let you stand. Anything you want, it's yours.

He hand picks flowers for you from his garden every month, and every month, it makes you cry. Stupid fucking hormones.

He runs you a bath with aromatic petals to soak in. He knows the hot water helps soothe the pain of cramps, and it makes him chuckle every time you sink into it and hum an "ahhh, good soup."

He's not a TV kind of guy, never has been. But he'll curl up on the couch with you in his arms and watch whatever trash you want.

Even with his arthritis, his fingers work their magic to relax your shoulders and release the built up tension in them.

Secondo

Listen, Secondo ain't scared of shit. Except your PMS.

He knew when he married you that you were feisty and he always liked that, but no one had warned him when you'd started dating that your PMS turned you into a psychotic cage fighter for two days a month.

By now, he's learnt what you're like and can curb it before it grows.

This usually means allowing you to burrow into his bedsheets and depositing an unhealthy load of snacks into your new cave.

He knows your PMS is calming when you actually reach for him to join you, claiming you need warmth when all you want was him close by.

Not the most affectionate man, but he understands your clinginess and doesn't protest when you curl around him like a monkey to it's mother.

Terzo

The week before your period is his favourite. Because you're absolutely feral.

And it's a damn good indicator of when you're due, so he can prepare as best as possible.

He's incredibly attentive to you and what you need and will unashamedly facetime you from the drugstore to ask which tampons you'll need, cracking wise guy jokes to make you giggle the whole time.

"You need the jumbo, sì? Because Papa is jumbo too, eh?"

He's a moron, but he's your moron.

You want rom coms? He can oblige.

His favourite is 27 Dresses. He weeps every time.

Copia

You were appalled the morning you woke up having bled through your tampon in Copia's bed.

"Amore, per favore, don't fret..." he was so understanding, didn't bat an eye. Just began to run you a bath and gathered the sheets to soak in bicarbonate of soda.

"You're not even a tiny bit grossed out?" "No, 'tis natural, eh? Don't be silly."

Cooks for you. Anything you want, he'll make it from scratch.

He'll ask you to blow him a kiss, catch it, then pretend to put it in what he's cooking. "Makes it sweeter, eh?"

He has a hot water bottle in the shape of a rat for you and you only. He calls it 'Rug rat' because it's flat and feels like a soft rug. You think it's dumb, but it makes you smile every time.

[milfgyuu]

Vanilla III [M] FINAL

Pairing: Joshua Hong x Fem!Reader Tags: 5.4k, F2L, Romance, Smut 18+ Summary: Joshua is a man with a plan and that plan involves a little dress-up, an old camera, and the woman he loves. It almost sounds sweet, doesn’t it? 

One | Two | Three (Final)

Warnings: explicit sexual content 18+, minors dni!, bdsm practices, consent/rules/safe words established, mean-dom!josh, sub/brat!reader, unprotected sex (mxf), fingering (f), oral (f), manhandling, pussy slapping & spitting (?), breast/nipple play, nipple clamps, blindfold, taking explicit pictures, light bondage. throat/face gripping, possessive role/speech, demoralizing dirty talk, coarse language, multiple orgasms, pet names, moderate sir kink, aftercare.

You’re beginning to think you’ve become far too familiar with the foot of Joshua’s bed.

It hadn’t been more than ten minutes of being home from your date that he’d pressed you against the kitchen counter and told you to go wait for him. The morning had been spent with smiles and laughter. Stolen kisses and interlaced fingers over the table at breakfast and throughout the market. Now, your legs are tucked neatly beneath you, hands in your lap, head bowed as you wait for him to enter the room.

A chill runs across your bare skin and you savor it knowing Joshua’s bound to walk in any moment and incinerate you from the inside out. 

Your eyes catch on the blue trim of the gorgeous two-piece lingerie set you’d chosen at random from the bag sitting atop his dresser. He’d told you to choose any set you’d like and there was something so soft and sexy about the color and thin lace material that you knew he’d be particularly pleased you chose it so you changed quickly, eager to get started with whatever he had planned. 

You can smell his cologne long before his shadow appears but you don’t look up, even when you realize his shirt is removed, hanging by one hand as he looks down at you proudly. Walking over to his closet, he deposits the shirt and then his socks, belt, and pants. He takes his time, as you expected he would. It’s all a part of the game. 

Hearing the closet doors close, your eyes squeeze shut and you focus on the sound of his footsteps getting closer, forcing yourself to wait, and be patient. Be good. 

“Look at me.”

His command is merciful but his tone reminds you that disobedience won’t be forgiven so easily and you raise your chin, opening your eyes carefully though you still have to blink through the blurry black haze from squeezing so tightly in anticipation. 

He’s standing closer than you had expected him to be and it causes you to tip your head back so far it almost creates a kink in your neck but much to your relief he takes one step back to get a better look at the outfit you chose for him. “You had to know this would be my favorite,” he hums in approval, “Why don’t you stand up and let me see you better?”

Your legs sting when you shift to stand and it takes you a moment to gain the feeling back again. Joshua hums, unfazed and unwilling to lend you a hand. It’s amusing for him to watch you pick yourself up off the floor, so determined to follow directions.

A part of him wants to piss you off. 

Your toes tingle like they’re filled with static and you go to rock forward to stand up but you’re suddenly knocked over, falling flat on your back. You look up at Joshua’s face full of mirth and you’re incredulous. “Stand up,” he says again.

You push up on your elbows and glare at him. “Did you just shove me…with your foot?”

He cocks his head to the side. “I barely knocked you over. You were moving too slow,” he raises a brow, “Are you gonna get up now?”

Your nostrils flare and Joshua’s smug satisfaction makes you try to get up again but as soon as you make it upright, he shoves you back down again, this time by hand, and pins you against the floor. His hands are ridiculously large and he’s not shy about using his long fingers to toy with the material of your bra. Toying with you.

“Changed my mind,” he smirks, “Stay down there for a minute.”

He purposely pops one of the straps against your skin and you wince at the sting as he steps over you and back toward the dresser. You can’t really tell what he’s doing from this angle but only a moment later he’s hovering over you again, your new polaroid camera in hand. He clicks it right away, capturing the surprise on your face and then he ignores you entirely, focusing on the photo being ejected from the camera. 

He pinches the bottom of it and flaps it back and forth a few times, bringing the photo to life. It takes a minute or so and then he’s grinning, seemingly satisfied. He leans over you holding the picture above your face. “Look how pretty you are.”

Heat blossoms in your chest and when he bends down, straddling your waist, you take a deep breath. His hand starts at your stomach, gliding up the smooth expanse of skin until he’s hooking one finger in the material between your breasts, pulling on it in such a way that the material stretches and pulls them together, your flesh bubbling out of the cups. 

He angles the camera and takes a shot of your torso between his knees. 

The familiar sound of a photo being spit out rings in your ears and Joshua merely grabs it and tosses it to the side. A surprise for later. 

“Maybe I should be the one thanking your father,” he murmurs, continuing his path upwards until his hand is firmly wrapped around your throat, he tips his head in a predatory fashion. “Do you think he expected it to be used like this?”

He squeezes and your mouth pops open on a moan. Joshua snaps another photo and mimics you, his mouth opening subconsciously before turning into a grin. His laughter is chilling in the sense that you’re reminded starkly how this goes. Joshua gives what he wants. Takes what he wants. And he will treat you like his own personal plaything. 

His thumb presses against your lips and your tongue darts out, wetting the tip. He pushes in further, flattening your tongue to the bottom of your mouth and opening you up wide. His lids are downcast and you can feel him, rock hard against your stomach. It’s either bold or stupid, but you bring your hands off the floor and slide them up his thighs though you don’t dare to push them too high.

He puffs out a little air of amusement and retracts his hand. 

This time when he stands, he actually offers you help up, and even though something in your head tells you not to trust him to not put you back on your ass, you take it and he hauls you to your feet. “Take it off,” he nods at your lingerie, “Slowly.”

He holds the camera up in front of his face, training it on your torso. As your straps slip over your shoulders he snaps another photo. It borders on tasteful - the way he only captures certain angles and sections of your body without exposing too much. Still, every photo belongs in a private album from their suggestion alone. Especially those with Joshua’s proprietary hands clearly evidenced on your body. 

Fully nude you twist from left to right, anxiously awaiting his next move. He lifts his free hand and cups your chin, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip to tug it down. “Beautiful,” he murmurs to himself before turning around to place the camera on top of his dresser. Having two free hands is almost daunting because yes, he’s free to touch you, but what he might do with those wicked, skillful tools is still unknown. 

Joshua doesn’t turn back around and instead takes his time sorting through one of the drawers. He takes things out and sets them aside as you attempt to stand on your tiptoes to see what he’s grabbing but he stills and barely turns his head over his shoulders. 

“Sit down and have patience,” he says in a flat tone, “I’d put you over my knee but you like that too much to be a punishment, don’t you?”

His tone is so superior that it grates on your nerves but you do as you’re told. The way Joshua speaks to you when you’re alone would never fly outside the bedroom but here, in the safety of these four walls, it’s different. Here he will taunt, and tease, and push you to your very limits and then bring you unmatched ecstasy in reward. 

You let yourself drink him in while he’s turned away from you. From the nape of his neck down, you marvel at his broad shoulders and follow the dip of his spine. Your fingers twitch at your sides, aching to dig them into the strong muscle of his back or his thick arms with their defined strength beneath taut, smooth skin. 

“If you keep staring at me you’re going to make a mess on the sheets.”

Your face sours immediately. Asshole. 

Before you can even dream of retorting, Joshua is walking back over to you with a few things in his hands, most notably, pristine white silks and a metallic tube of some sort. He sets them down on the bed next to you, along with a few other things, and the second you move to look down at them he snatches your face in one hand and glowers down at you. 

“I was going to allow you to choose,” he squeezes hard enough to make your cheeks pinch, “Blindfold or not but it seems like I’ll be making that decision for you.”

The grip on your face vanishes instantly and he pushes further into your space, leaning over you until your head tips back and he drops a long hot kiss on your parted lips. “You remember what we talked about?”

You blink your heavy lids back and find him looking down at you, his pretty brown eyes searching yours. He’s referring to the conversation you had about blindfolding and how you initially were too nervous to be both blindfolded and restrained but that you were willing to try as long as you weren’t bound completely. You nod your consent. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs with a pretty smirk, “Give me your hands.”

With your wrists pressed together, Joshua weaves the silks around them, his nimble fingers making quick work of the restraint. He ties the ends in a pretty little bow and you exhale in amusement. Joshua smirks a little as he looks back up at you. 

“Should you need to untie yourself at any point,” he guides your thumb and forefinger to grasp the end of the silk, “All you need to do is pull on the ends and it will come apart easily.”

He watches carefully as you follow his instructions and the silk falls apart. You wiggle your hands and fingers, and eagerly offer them back for Joshua to redo the binding. It’s hard to maintain composure when you’re so giddy to be tied up and fucked but he paints a flat, condescending face. “Oh look, baby knows how to follow basic instructions now. How cute.”

You bite your tongue before ‘Prick’ slips from between your plush lips and Joshua smirks as he secures the silks, knowing damn well that one pissed you off. 

The only problem is that Joshua is learning that he has the power to make the same things you’d never put up with, such as taunting and insults, stoke your fire in a completely different way when he’s got you like this. He knows you’ll bite.

“Baby,” you mock boldly, “Knows how to do plenty, sir.”

Joshua laughs but it’s entirely empty and then he’s got you pinned back onto the bed with his long fingers hooked into your neck. His palm radiates heat and covers the entirety of your throat and the thought strikes you that should he have claws he could very well rip it clean open without a second thought but as it stands, his very human, blunt nails, are enough for you to go deathly still. 

“Go ahead,” he goads you without a care, “Drop the good girl act. You know you want to.”

He extends his middle finger and presses it against your lips. When he pushes between them you swirl your tongue around the tip of it. The act itself so vulgar Joshua’s cock twitches against your thighs. He releases a haughty laugh. “How do you expect me to believe you suddenly know how to behave when you act like that, huh? You think I’ll give you whatever you want if you use your hot little mouth?”

You fucking hope so. 

He pulls his finger out of reach, purposefully dragging it and your own saliva down your chin and across your neck as he readjusts his grip. “If I want your mouth, angel,” he squeezes and looks into your eyes until they flutter, “I’ll take it.”

A wave of arousal crashes over you when he relaxes his grip and a new heat floods your face in the form of embarrassment. There is no way he doesn’t know how wet he’s made you with his thigh snug between your own, pressing into your cunt unbearably. 

Especially with the way you let a moan slip out when he shifts onto his elbow above you. 

The memory of riding his thigh, fully clothed in your childhood bedroom floods your mind and you press the tips of your fingers into your cheeks to rid the cramping from how tightly your jaw is clenched. Joshua rolls his eyes in amusement and hikes your bound hands above your head until they’re well out the way. 

“Thinking about rubbing your pussy on my thigh again?” he teases and this time you refuse to engage. “I’m curious though…was it as good as you thought it might be? You know, back when you were humping your pillow and thinking about me?”

Your eyes pop wide open and your jaw drops. There is no fucking way.

“You read my diary?!”

Joshua shifts down a bit and bites into the flesh of your breast. You hiss at the sting and he drags his tongue over the mark. “You read it to me.”

He continues biting and licking his way across your chest as you try to figure out what in the hell he means when you remember one night months and months back, well before any of this began, you had way too much to drink at dinner with your friends and called Joshua to pick you up. He hadn’t even hinted to you that anything out of the ordinary happened aside from you almost falling asleep on his kitchen counter at one point. 

“Wait - you’re telling me you just…let that shit slide and pretended it never happened?”

Joshua’s teeth tug at your nipple and your hands swing forward but he pins them right back down and growls, “Keep them there until I say so.”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe in awe. 

“I hold onto important information until it’s useful for me.”

Until he had you all alone in the very same bed you used to roll around in fantasizing about him. How amusing it must have been to offer you the real thing when he knew how you used to play in the dark and pretend. He took one of your dirty secrets and brought it to life while you were none the wiser. Half of you wants to wring his neck and the other, less civilized part wants to spend the next twenty-four hours acting out every single filthy wet dream Joshua’s ever had in repayment. 

“Keep looking at me like that and you’ll ruin all the fun.”

The deeply disapproving tone of his voice makes you roll your eyes. How dare you look at him like you love him or something?

“That’s more like it,” he tuts and then he’s reaching for something further down the bed and you don’t realize what it is until it’s slipped over your face and your vision is entirely obscured. “There,” his breath tickles your skin, “Now you can roll your eyes all you want, princess.”

“I can still talk back,” you retort. “What are you going to do about that?”

Joshua huffs out a short laugh. “Don’t be shy, love. Just say you want my dick in your mouth. I promise to act surprised.”

Whatever you’re about to say dies on your lips when you feel cool metal brush against your nipple and you cry out when it clamps onto the sensitive nub and then a beaded chain spills between your breasts in a ‘U’ shape and you brace yourself against what you know comes next. You’d only experimented with the clamps once but it was enough to know the sting of pain needed a moment to give way to the pleasure. 

“Aren’t those pretty?” he tests your threshold by lightly tugging on the chain connecting the clamps. You bite your lip and chase that lightheaded feeling that creeps over you. Joshua gently glides his finger back and forth along the inside of that chain, maintaining light pressure. “Color?”

A flick of his finger jerks at the clamps and you choke out, “Green!”

He rewards you with a kiss that ends far too swiftly for your liking and then his weight disappears completely. You know now that he’s not going to leave you alone and so you remain still and wait for him to make his next move. After a minute, you feel him on your right side and then the sound of the camera’s shutter goes off, along with the subsequent buzzing of the photo being printed. You listen for him to set the camera down again and sigh when he runs both hands along the length of your torso. 

He shoves one hand between your thighs and rubs the pads of his middle and ring finger over your clit. Your breath hitches and he nips at the side of your jaw. “You’re so fucking wet for me,” he groans against your ear, knowing the sound of it drives you wild, “You don’t even need me to touch first, do you?” he asks, even as he slips both fingers inside.

“Lov-...love it when you t-touch me,” you pant out, back arched off the bed. 

“Greedy,” he sucks air through his teeth as he slips his fingers free and slaps your cunt, hard, before sheathing them inside again.

“Fuck!”

Another slap. “Such a foul mouth.”

He’s moving so quickly now, absolutely unrelenting, and you cry out for him to do it again. 

He obliges you even as he makes another snarky comment. You ignore him when he laughs and you ask him again. You beg for it and it’s humiliating yet none of that even matter when he slaps your cunt for the fifth time and you spasm violently. Joshua moves quick enough that the moment your orgasm hits, he’s tearing off your blindfold and pushing his thick length into you with a grand amount of effort. 

Your pulsing walls squeeze him and make it almost impossible to get through and the feeling alone makes Joshua openly moan. Your eyes flit to his and he almost looks embarrassed until you arch up into him and laugh. “That was the hottest thing you’ve ever done.”

Which is apparently the wrong thing, or maybe, the right thing to say because your lover hitches your thigh up and around his waist to drive into you so deeply there isn’t room to laugh, breathe, think…he’s all consuming in the way he owns you in this very moment. 

Not like an object. A thing to command and control but a treasure. 

To covet and worship above everything else.  

Even with one of his hands pinning yours into the pillows above your head while the other is gripping your jaw so tightly that even if you wanted to break eye contact with him, you couldn’t. Even when he grits his teeth and scolds you. It doesn’t matter, not when he’s pouring himself into you just to watch you overflow into sheer madness.

“Is it amusing to you…” Joshua grunts, pulling his cock out just to slowly push it all the way back in, “...the way your hot little cunt makes me lose control?”

Your lips brush together as he speaks but it’s a mere exchange of harsh breaths and words, nothing more. Kissing him is fruitless, he won’t take pity on you and your needy attempts. Your eyes flutter shut on a sharp thrust and he squeezes your cheeks, shaking your head in warning.

“Open your eyes,” he tilts your chin up, “Now.”

You want to listen. You want to look at him…you can’t. It’s as if your lids are sealed shut and Joshua’s relentless pace is making it near impossible to access the part of your brain that controls movement. It almost comes out a little panicked when you stutter, “I c-can’t…I’m trying b-but I can’t!”

To your utter horror, Joshua pulls out and you can’t feel him anywhere. It’s the nudge you needed to finally peel your lids back and thankfully he’s there at your side but your cunt throbs and clenches with the loss and it sends you reeling. You attempt to sit up and a big hand shoves you back down. “Slow down,” Joshua says - his tone hard and difficult to read with the adrenaline making you jittery. 

“I’m not going to fuck you if you can’t follow the simplest of directions,” he says, dark eyes piercing you straight down to the bone, “You’re going to look at me when you come or you’re not going to come at all. Is that clear?”

You’re spinning and trying so hard to focus that your voice is a little wobbly when you manage a simple, “Yes, sir.”

You make another attempt at sitting up and Joshua’s hand again shoves you into the mattress. He sneers and just the fact that he’s able to make such a disdainful glare possible with those perfectly pouty lips makes you pinch your thighs together. Joshua clocks the motion and scoffs. 

“Why do you beg for my disapproval, hm?”

“I d-don’t.”

Joshua twists a finger in the chain between the clamps and pulls, your nipples burn under the sensation and you whimper pathetically. “It’s one thing to be a brat,” he huffs and twists a little harder, “But a liar? You’re better than that.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, ’m sorry, sorry…” tears well in your eyes so Joshua eases up to check in with you but the second you answer that you’re still green, he continues on smoothly.

“Admit it,” he reaches up and loosens your wrists until he’s able to lower them back down to your sides, “You like to play dirty.”

“Slowly,” he murmurs as he helps you sit upright, “Admit that you love to push my buttons just to see when I’ll snap.”

Your lips quiver as he continues to maneuver your shaking body until he’s sitting with his back propped up against the pillows and you hovering over his lap. He loops his finger back under that chain and pulls forward until you're pressed against his chest with his teeth nipping at your throat. “Admit that you want to see how far you can push me until I fuck you so hard you don’t even have the capacity to think let alone talk back.”

His opposite hand rubs roughly over your thigh and up your backside to grab a handful of your ass and you cry out when he pulls down on that chain at the same time. “Admit that you’re willing to take everything I give you, even if you have to trade your dignity to get it.”

You’re nodding fervently and Joshua smirks against your throat. You’re such a proud person, always so sure of yourself. Confident, independent, strong-willed. And yet, for him, you’d trade it all away for his simple touch. The belittling and stripping of power, it’s something you’d only ever trust him with and it fills him with vigor like he’s just drank bottled lightning. 

Pulling you down and grinding you over his lap, he bites at your shoulder. “Do you love me, baby?”

“Fuck, y-yes.”

Another pass and his cock is poised at your entrance, teasing you. “Say it again.”

“I, oh-” you’re still so wet he slips back inside but Joshua isn’t cruel enough to correct it, “-love y-you.”

You start riding him before he can change his mind and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Joshua grunts when you take him all the way inside and he secures one arm around your shoulder and the other bars your lower back, anchoring you to his body. “Tell me again.”

“I love you,” you manage in short little pants, “Oh m-my god, I love you.”

Joshua does his best to angle his hips and meet you halfway but the sound of your crazed desperation is driving him to a breaking point. “Of course you do, sweetheart,” he grunts with effort, “Why else would you get on your knees and crawl for me, huh? Would you do that for anyone else, baby?” 

You shake your head, bouncing in his lap even though your legs are impossibly numb and you’re not even sure if you’re the one moving or if he is doing that for the both of you. 

“Only you,” your head falls back as his lips trapeze along your throat, “I’d do anything for y-you.”

Joshua licks the pad of his thumb and circles your clit so quickly you know this is it - you’re absolutely done for. 

“Anything?” he grins deliriously, his own end surely to be coupled with your own, “Just for me?”

Babbling affirmations is about as much as you can manage and Joshua just laughs in response, the sound normally soft as velvet in your ears coming out hoarse and cracked. He loves when you’re nothing but a crying, incoherent mess - giving yourself over to him completely because he knows he’s won and all there’s left to do is simply utter the word and you’re near howling, limbs shaking as you fall apart. 

It’s all a blur when he knocks you backwards and you hardly register your back hitting the mattress. Blinking hard and slow your vision pieces together and Joshua is on his knees between your thighs, jerking himself to completion all over your stomach and breasts. 

With a final, almost violent grunt he rests a hand on your knee to steady himself. His head hangs, as does his hair, damp with sweat, and his chest heaves from the exertion. Perhaps you’re biased because you’re insanely attracted to Joshua in general but in this moment he’s absolutely fucking glorious. 

After a few moments spent gathering his wits again, he’s shocked to hear giggling… endless, uncontrollable giggling. 

His eyes light up and he raises his brows in question but you just cannot stop for the life of you. Your nerve endings haven’t stopped firing since you orgasmed and this is the aftermath of all the adrenaline and endorphins flooding your system. Joshua chuckles and bend down to kiss your knee cap. 

“We better get you cleaned up and tucked in before the comedown hits,” he says softly and then he’s gone for a mere second before reappearing with your camera in hand, “One more picture though,” he holds it up and takes a shot, before depositing the photo somewhere on the floor and the camera on the bedside table.

Between bouts of giggles and teeth chattering you manage, “Is that why you pulled out? For a picture?”

Joshua grins unabashedly as he helps you straighten your legs back out. “I couldn’t resist,” he reaches down and tugs at the chain connecting the clamps that you mostly forgotten about, “Let’s take these off and get cleaned up, ok baby?”

You nod but honestly, it’s up to him to maneuver your body because you’re sunken into the mattress and cannot move a single limb on your own. “I don’t think a s-shower is a good idea. Not that you’re not super buff and all but…”

He bites his lip to stifle a laugh and nods. “Appreciate you stroking my ego.” 

Joshua climbs off the edge of the bed to slip into the adjoining bathroom. You can hear the water running for a bit then he’s back and cleaning the mess off your stomach with a warm washcloth. He folds it neatly and keeps it there for a minute while he removes the clamps from your breasts. “These,” he pinches his lips when you hiss, “Are going to be tender for a bit.”

He removes the other clamp and tosses them aside. The cool air makes them sting and you whimper in discomfort. Joshua pouts his lips at you patronizingly just before he dives down to suckle one and then the other until you’re swatting at his shoulder. He laughs, easing back even as you glare at him. 

He picks up the cloth again and cleans the inside of your thighs but the second he moves toward your center you snatch his wrist up and he looks up at you. “That’s embarrassing. I’ll do it myself.”

Joshua offers a very unimpressed look and smarts, “Embarrassing for who, cry baby?”

Oh, if you could move literally any part of your body you’d beat him with it.

You open your mouth to retort but he decides to cut you off and clean you with his tongue instead. The deranged moan that falls from your lips is followed by the sound of you slapping a hand over your own mouth. He is not allowed to win this debauched warfare. You attempt to squeeze your thighs together feebly but those massive hands clamp down on them and you’re stuck. 

“Josh…” your warning tone does nothing to derail him as he licks into your core. 

He pulls back and examines your pussy thoughtfully. 

“Joshua, I am so seri-”

He meets your eyes and purposefully spits on your cunt, smirking. “Oh no…I missed a spot.”

You groan at his demonic sense of humor. “F-fucking….evil…”

You want to pull away from the onslaught but your hips are like cement and he’s got your legs pinned down and you have nowhere to go. Just like everything else Joshua gives you…you sit and take it like a good girl. 

His teeth graze your clit and it’s like wildfire between your thighs as he pulls back and says, “You told me you’d do anything for me…right, angel?”

As much as you don’t want to give into his game you have to because if he keeps this up you’ll explode into smithereens. It has to end. Now. 

“Yes, yess, yes, oh m-my god yes, anything!”

“Then come again on this pretty face you love so much.”

It’s the way he says it, his voice deep and provoking, commanding, and the way his tongue flattens against you lapping up and down, up and down, his nose rubbing against your clit as he goes and you come so hard you swear you black out. Your vision swirls and pulses beneath your lids shut so tightly they ache and Joshua simply laughs.

“You’re a-actually insane,” you stutter out, blinking repeatedly though your eyesight is no less fuzzy then it was a moment ago, “I cannot do that again.”

Joshua goes to say something and you interrupt him. “That was NOT a challenge, Joshua!”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I can wait. I’m a patient man.”

You nearly cackle. “No, you are not!”

He quirks a brow. “How many years did I wait for you to take the blinders off, hmm?”

You grumble something mocking like, “HoW MaNy YeArs DiD I WaIt Fo-” but it turns into a shout when Joshua leaps on top of you and bites into your shoulder like an actual hellion until the two of you are laughing and wrestling in the bed you just defiled. 

He rolls onto his back and drags you up against his side, both of you taking in deep breaths and exhaling gentle laughter. Looking up at him, you can’t help but smile. 

It’s just Joshua. He’s the same…but different. He is alluring and sexy and exciting but he’s also intelligent and sarcastic and warm. He feels like home…but more.

You muster all the energy you have left in the reserves to lean up to kiss his cheek and he looks back down at you with a smile. “What’s that for?”

You scrunch your nose. “I kind of love you…or whatever.”

He licks his lips, biting back his joy and then he leans over and kisses you. “I kind of love you too.”

“I’m also…kinda hungry.”

The flat smile you give is returned in full. “So, I’m supposed to fuck you AND feed you?”

You nod once. “Yes.”

He nods back and steals another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Noodles?”

“Noodles.”

SVT M.List | Main M.List

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[dejwritesarchived]

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) after your casting partner grimmjow come down with the flu, director shunsui kyoraku steps in and takes his place.

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, female anatomy described, written with black reader in mind, modern au, sw!reader, p*rn director!shunsui, very descriptive description of making out, implied oral (male receiving), mentions of pubes. (come on now we see how hairy this man is) doggystyle position, flat doggy positon, usage of spit, breeding kink, creampie, body worship, mentions of reader & grimmjow being roommates and filming buddies lol, he done made her fall in love after giving a smidget of him, this smut is just outright nasty...i need to be evaluated after writing this, word count: 3k

YOUR FACE SCRUNCHED UP IN DISGUST HEARING THE SOUND OF YOUR ROOMMATE SLASH VERY LOYAL FILMING PARTNER AGGRESSIVELY COUGH. With your back leaned against his dresser, your arm crossed over your chest as you watched him peak from under the royal blue duvet, his eyes puffy, and frankly—he looked like shit. You knew he wouldn’t be able to film today considering how he looked, but you knew that he wouldn’t particularly let you help look after him and miss work. In your mind, you could miss one day. It wouldn’t make a big deal, considering how your bank account was looking. However, your roommate was insisting you just film without him. 

Grimmjow and yourself have known each for over two years now. The first year you two met after you desperately decided to do porn for cash. At first, you were timid—afraid your reputation could be tarnished as soon as Nympho Productions posted the video online. The direct deposit that hit your account had you eager to try more. According to the interactions on Grimmjow and your videos, they were prevalent. Many of them rave about the two of you having a lot of chemistry together. Weird right? Having on-camera chemistry in a porn video. So, you and Grimmjow entered a contract to do a video together three times a month under Nympho Productions. You two soon became roommates after realizing that you have seen everything of each other—some workers in the company even joked about the two of you dating. 

“They’re most likely going to pair you up with someone else,” Grimmjow lets out a cough as he finally pulls the covers off his head. His light blue colored hair was a mess on his face, and his eyes were as puffy as ever. “We’ll have to film four videos together next month.” He huffs. 

“The contract is between you and me. I don’t have to go in today.” You spoke out as you shrugged your shoulders. “Plus, you look like shit. I can’t just leave you in here all sick and gross looking.” 

Grimmjow stares at you and blinks. “Did you just say I look like shit and gross looking?” 

“That’s the only thing you heard me say?” You asked. “I don’t mind staying here and taking care of you. That’s what roommates and occasionally video partners do.” You smiled at him, and he simply rolled his eyes at your gesture and rolled over in bed so that he was no longer facing you. 

“Stop being so nice as if you didn’t curse me out yesterday for eating that shitty flavored ice cream, you brought, Y/N. Don’t let me stop you from making money. Plus, you should get used to doing videos with other guys.” Grimmjow says.

“You ignored my sticky note on the ice cream that you said was nasty, you asshole.” You said. “I have chemistry with you; why would I want to do that?” 

He sits up in bed, giving you an annoyed look. “Actors have chemistry with multiple people. So do porn stars. Now go because you must be at the studio in like an hour. I’ll be okay.” 

Your lip gloss-covered lips part to argue against his words before admitting defeat. “Fine, I’ll keep you posted on who I’m filming with. Hopefully, it goes quickly.” 

“Let’s hope whatever lucky guy doesn’t cum too quickly.” 

“Just how you did our first time filming together.” You jokingly say as you shut the door before he can chuck his pillow at you. 

The journey to the studio wasn’t that long. As soon as you stepped into the office, many workers were already doing their job for the day. You didn’t know how this day would go considering that you had no clue who you were filming with. You feared that you would be paired with someone who cum too quickly, which dragged on filming. Or maybe you’ll be with someone you weren’t attracted to, and you couldn’t have sex with someone you weren’t attracted to. Granted, you were a porn star—it wasn’t like you were looking for prince charming. You just thought it would be better to stare at someone pretty. You also didn’t want the sex to be seen so forced; any director could point out when the two stars aren’t into it and just doing it to get over with. You were a woman of standards and had to make sure everything you did was of criteria, including sucking cock on camera. 

“Oh my God! You actually came to work,” One of the set assistants said as she approached you with a clipboard. “We heard about Grimmjow being sick and assumed you wouldn’t come in. That saves everyone's ass,” She links arms with you as she walks down the hall toward the makeup and hair department. 

On the long hallway towards the makeup and hair department location, posters of popular videos the company created were on the walls. You didn’t have a poster yet, considering that you only filmed with one person. 

“Don’t you have to find someone to replace Grimmjow?” You walked into the room and sat in the chair to get your makeup done. 

The majority of the makeup looks depends on the scenario. In essential blow job videos, the makeup artist sometimes used waterproof eyeliner, depending on who was directing the video. Some directors adored the pleasing aesthetic shot of a pretty person with eyeliner stains on their face after having a cock tap at the back of their throat—others didn’t, as they thought it was trashy. 

“Uh, yes.” The young woman said as she brought her clipboard closer to her chest. She glances down at her sneakers before speaking again, “It’s surely a first for Nympho Productions.” She forces a smile on her face, and your eyebrows are raised in curiosity. 

“Who am I filming with? I hope you guys didn’t just get some random guy.” You sighed. “If that’s what you’re referring to, this being a first.”

“No, it’s just you’ll be filming with uh—Director Kyoraku.” She says after she checks her clipboard. “We never had a director step in for a video, so this is a first, and everyone has been running around like a chicken without its head because of it.” 

Your mouth instantly dried up at the sound of that. You had worked with Director Shunsui Kyoraku a couple of times, considering he’s been the director for countless of you and Grimmjow’s videos. You have sat in the studio’s cafeteria and overheard many workers talk highly of him. He was charismatic without even trying. He was kind, very kind actually, and not in the creepy power dynamic kind that many directors in Hollywood give. You couldn’t deny how attractive he was. He has seen practically everything of you on camera—so why was the thought of recording a video with him having your stomach forming the most insane knots?

“You can refuse to do the video. He has stated that and wants you, his co-star, to be as comfortable as possible. He understands that Grimmjow is your usual partner—and recording with someone new can be extremely intimidating.” The set assistant explained. “We can start whenever you’re ready; the shoot can be as long or short. We need to get enough footage to release an exclusive video for premium subscribers for the site.” 

Your lips form a straight line before speaking, “It’s okay. I’m comfortable with that. Are there any specific positions he prefers for today?” 

“Once again, anything that you’re comfortable with.” The set assistant said. “You’re actually his first—on camera. So, he’s kinda going to be looking at you for guidance.” She chuckles lowly as she rocks on her heels nervously. Frankly, she was afraid that you’d back out last minute. 

Now it was you chuckling; you’d heard rumors about Director Kyoraku. From how big his cock was to how amazing he was in bed. Now here you were with the grand opportunity to see if the rumors were true. 

“Do you think we should go with waterproof eyeliner?” The makeup artist asked out loud.

Usually, when you were asked this question, you didn’t know what to say. Especially if you didn’t know who was directing the shoot during your scenes. Your lips rubbed together before parting to speak but soon were interrupted by the one man that had been running through your mind since you learned the news that you were going to be filming with him. 

“Regular liner would do.” 

Your eyes met with his, and you felt your body go through a heat rush. It felt like all the blood in your body rushed to your face. Your words that were tumbling around in your mind seemed to come to a stop. The makeup and hair department people around you seem to move slowly. Shunsui Kyoraku was leaning against the door frame of the room you were in. 

“Then you guys heard the director, regular liner it is.” You could hear the makeup artist chuckle at your words.

“He must have quite some interesting plans for filming with you today,” The artist commented as she grabbed the black eyeliner. 

Shunsui took the empty seat just a few inches away from you. He rested his head in the palm of his hand as he stared at you. Completely drinking in your looks as you were getting your makeup done. As the makeup artist turns to grab another makeup product—you catch a glimpse of him trailing his tongue across his lips before he rubs his hand across the stubble on his face. 

“I came to you before our shoot to talk.” He interrupts the silence that swirled around the room. 

“I already told the set assistant; I am comfortable with any position you want to try.” Your eyes met his.

��Right.” He clicks his tongue before speaking again, “I know this is awkward, but my main goal is to ensure you’re comfortable.” 

You crossed your legs across one another, the jean skirt you wore rising just a bit with your provocative action. You took note that Shunsui’s eyes glanced down at your thighs. He swallowed so hard you could see his adam apple bob because of his actions. Were you making him nervous? 

“I’m very much comfortable with filming you. I know I suppose to help guide you, but I’m sure you don’t need much guidance.” You stated. 

The makeup artist applied a coat of lip gloss on your plush lips before asking you to rub your lips together to finish the minimal makeup look. You rubbed your lips together before glancing at your reflection in the mirror. Your golden skin glistened in the bright light that was attached to the mirrors, and you couldn’t help but smile at your beauty. Pushing yourself out of your seat so you can change into something else, you look at Shunsui before your lips curve into a smile.

“Remember the words you told me when you first directed one of my videos? Just do it as if I’m not even there. So just do that, sir.” You let your hand place on his shoulder before leaving the room. 

“See you on set in about fifteen minutes.” You said out loud as you waltzed down the hall to change into something else. 

You went to your dressing room, which was usually shared with Grimmjow, to change into something more appealing to the eye. Your breasts sat up nicely in the shirt you wore, but you knew you wouldn’t even have it on in a matter of minutes. You spent the remaining time in your dressing room trying to figure out if you could give Grimmjow a heads-up on what was happening. He was going to see the video regardless—but you were sure his little ego would be bruised seeing who you would be filming with. As your fingers hovered over the message thread to send a quick message, a knock was heard at the door. The same set assistant that dropped the massive news would give you a sly smile, “We’re ready for you on set, Y/N.” She adds. 

“I’ll be right there.” You answered. 

You never were nervous about filming other than your first time on camera. You remembered how timid you were with so many sets of eyes on your bare body. Today you were so nervous that you could feel the knots twisting and turning in the pit of your stomach. However, you kept remembering how people talked highly about Shunsui on set. Not one person had something negative to say about the guy, so of course, he would take his time with you. Of course, when action was yelled, he would make you as comfortable as possible, considering that this was different from filming with Grimmjow. His large hands caress your body like a well-trained masseuse. Obviously, you got the idea clearly of him choosing for you to wear regular eyeliner just for when your pretty mouth was wrapped around him, gagging pornographically until tears stain your heated cheeks. Mascara stained your face as you were attempting to regain your breath from Shunsui’s cock being in your mouth.

Your heart thumped against your chest as you lay on your stomach, and when you felt the weight of Shunsui on you—you could feel your breath hitch. His lips linger, kissing behind your ear. You can feel the wetness of his tongue trace alongside the line of your ear before whispering, “If I’m being too rough, let me know.” 

His voice was so smooth that simply by saying that, you grew ever wetter from the time of his cock being in your mouth. You felt his lips drag a line of kisses down the spine of your back, and you could feel your skin littered with goosebumps in anticipation. Your mouth gasps apart to let out a whimper of desperation. Your pussy twitched in anticipation, feeling Shunsui’s cock resting upon your ass. The sigh of comfort you let out when you could feel him slide into you. His hand was placed on your waist as he was waiting for you to get used to the feeling of his cock stretching you out. The broken cries of pleasure you let out as soon as his hips begin to rock cause you to feel lightheaded. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but this felt different. 

You and Grimmjow scenes worked as partners. You tolerate each other because you would have filmed with each other rather than anyone else. Oddly, the two of you just became close friends within those years. The thought of filming with another guy never settled in your mind until you felt the satisfying feeling of Shunsui fucking you like a madman. The pornographic sound of heated skin slapping against each other was sure to be picked up on the shotgun microphone that was above Shunsui and yourself.

When Shunsui pulled himself entirely out of you—you felt so bare with his cock tapping at that spot that caused your dreamy eyes to lolly in the back of your head. Even barer than being naked in front of a whole production. You could feel the tip of his cock kissing your drooling entrance before the wet feeling of Shunsui using his spit as lube. Once again, he’s bottom down inside you, but time slowly—teasingly. It left you whining out for more, and with each whine, he rewarded you with what you wanted. The sound of the bed tapping at the wall was attempting to overpower your moans. The wet squelching noises of Shunsui’s spit plus your wetness that coated his cock with each push forward into the cushion of your ass. 

“Harder.” You gasped through your moans. 

He pushed your coils from the side, placing a soft kiss on your temple. “Harder, what?” His questions through a dragged-out pant. 

“Harder, please.” You whimpered out. 

He grants your wishes without a complaint. His large hands spread your cheeks apart just so his girthy cock could kiss that one spot that had you seeing stars and slurring out moans of his name. The fiery pit that was bubbling in your stomach pushed you closer to the edge. The hairs on your body rise in anticipation as your orgasm finally come upon you. Your pussy pulses around him as you hear Shunsui utter something before he cums. That didn’t stop the notorious director from stopping. It seemed like that motivated him to fuck you through your mind-blowing orgasm. 

Your skin was stained with his scent as the two of your bodies went limp at the feeling of playing tug-a-war with the intense orgasm. Your head plopped down on the pillow, and you could feel Shunsui slowly pull out. You couldn’t even imagine the mess that was in between your thighs just because of the mere moment of you urging him to cum in you. As soon as you heard the director yell that you guys were done, you finally were able to rest your mind that only could process Shunsui Kyoraku and only him. 

While tugging on the robe someone gave you, you let your fingers brush against your coils, trying to compose yourself from the events that transpired. Your stomach felt like it filled with butterflies, and you felt fuckin’ lovesick. Your feet hit the softness of the rug that was near the bed you just received one of the best fuckings of your life on. Your body plopped backward as you could hear many filming crew members completing their duties. You felt the space next to your sink downward, and Shunsui took the spot next to you, wearing a similar silk robe that you were wearing. On the back of it was an embroidery of the company’s name on the back. 

“We should do this again?” Shunsui eyes glance down at you. 

“Again?” Your eyebrows raised at him, and you could only hear him hum in agreement at his words. 

“Contact my assistant when you make a decision.” 

And with that, you watched him walk away from your view as his assistant approached him with a water bottle and his cell phone. You were left with the taste of Shunsui on your lips and your mind filled with just him. To think you were about to call out to take care of your roommate today. 

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