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bunny584 · 7 months

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OBSESSED: GETO (PT. II)

A/N: I…guys this one is…dirty. For so many reasons. I don’t. I can’t look myself in the eye. Suguru made me do it 😅

C/W: Voyeurism, Mature themes, 18+ (Part I here)

Music inspo: This is SO Chase Atlantic coded

Acceptance.

They say the first step to recovery from addiction is acceptance.

Fine, then.

Suguru Geto’s addiction to you is absolute. And he has no interest in recovery.

He’s accepted it. You own him.

Granted, he didn’t realize just how tight your leash is. Not until last night.

Suguru is a logical, reasonable, creature of habit. He doesn’t need much. Really, he doesn’t.

But fucking you to sleep nightly is non-negotiable.

Or rather, fucking his hand. While watching you watch TV. And swirl a glass of Pinot noir in your gorgeous mouth. With your graceful fingers mindlessly swimming in a bowl of popcorn.

Extra butter. With tons and TONS of salt!

The first time you ordered your side snack at the movie theatre, Suguru almost keeled over.

But then he made the glorious mistake of flickering over to you, mid movie. Just as your index finger slid between those pillow soft lips. Pulling remnants of salt and butter away, leaving a trail of lip gloss behind.

He could’ve sucked it off your finger right there and then.

The way you pistoned in and out of your mouth. Doe-eyed and trained on the screen. Not a thought in your head. It was his gateway drug.

The butterfly effect.

A moment in time that rerouted fate.

His excruciatingly beautiful, platonic best friend, now a visceral need.

And just like any addiction. There were stages.

Denial: He doesn’t see you that way. No, of course not. His mind just got caught in a horny spiral. He’ll snap out of it. Things will go back to normal.

Anger: How could you do this to him? You know how disorienting you are. That smile. Always looking up at him with puppy eyes and parted lips. You’re a cocktease. Begging. Pleading. Needing him to debase you to nothing. Is that it? You want him to ruin you, don’t you? And he could. Fuck you into next week. Until you’re screaming and crying. He’d smear those tears all over his cock and fuck them back into your pouty mouth. It’s what you deserve.

Shame: It’s perverse. You call to vent about your day. He rubs himself raw while you talk. You kiss his cheek. His dick leaks. How could he do this to someone who trusts him like you do?

It was a vicious, muddled cycle. He could barely function around you.

Rushed greetings. Kurt words. Clipped responses. Avoidance.

He had to protect you from his depraved thoughts. Shield you from sordid actions taken in the dark — as if they would spontaneously materialize in the light to harm you.

And they did. But in the opposite way Suguru intended.

“Hey, HEY! Suguru, what the hell is up with you?”

You squeezed his wrist with all your might. It felt like nothing. But the weight in your tone hit him like a freight train.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been distant."

“I’ve been right here.”

“You’ve been distant, Suguru.”

Quartz showers streamed down your beautiful face and his cock quivered. Drooling along his thigh. So. Fucking. Pretty when you cry.

Did you know?

How irresistible you looked?

Glassy eyes. Trembling lips. Vulnerable. Soft enough to hunt.

Did you know?

How he clawed his palm bloody to keep from gripping your neck. Shoving you to your knees. And giving you a reason to whine his name like that again.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?”

“I have to go—“

“I don’t care!”

“Wha—“

“I don’t care!! I don’t care what it is okay? I just…I miss..I miss my best friend.”

You elevated off your heels. No where near eye level, but enough to cradle his face in your dainty hands.

And God dammit. He might as well have been wearing a dog tag with your name on it.

If lost, return to Owner.

Between your misty eyes. Swollen lips. Face like a canvas to paint with his cum. He bit back a pathetic groan. And choked out an apology.

Most importantly, he made a promise to never hollow out your friendship like that again.

So, instead he fills it. With ropes of his arousal. And fuck, it’s rhapsody.

The stages. The anger, disbelief, shame…it was worth it. Because this ecstasy? It’s sublime.

Constant ascension. Never once reaching cruising altitude.

…which made the fall agonizing.

Last night, in a sick, twisted turn of fate - his camera feed cut off.

One minute Suguru is pumping into his abused rubber cocksleeve. Sliding his eyes up and down your hips until he was dizzy in the head. Pre cum squelching out of the little space between his cock and the ring of his 5th battered toy. Unintelligible praises leaking out of him, cementing his devotion. And just as the curtains began to fall on his vision. Balls heavy and hot with his seed—

Then he saw nothing.

Suguru couldn’t recognize the man in his room last night. Fingers aching. Mind racing. Dick red, angry, pulsating for its one and only vice.

Alarm bells rang between his ears. Crash landing into an abyss. Mayday.

Mayday.

In that moment. He knew he needed more. More skin. More angles. More you.

And so, he’s standing outside your Pilates studio @ 7:28 PM. Two minutes until you’re done.

A Dragonfruit smoothie rests in his hand.

And a new camera system rests in his back pocket.

———

“Ugh, I needed that.”

You sling a cold eucalyptus towel around your neck.

“And I need him.” The comment emanates from one of your girlfriends. Both of you rounding the corner out of the studio.

Suguru.

You don’t have to look out the glass windows to know exactly who she is referring to.

“I mean, seriously. How can you not climb him like a—“

“Stop it!!” Your protest made less believable because of your sheepish giggles.

“We’re just friends.” You mutter. Pulling your gym bag out of the front lockers.

Yeah, who are you trying to convince? Her? Or yourself?

Your eyes flicker to your platonic, gorgeous best friend. Raven mane in a glossy, high ponytail. Freely cascading down his back. Curly wisps framing his razor sharp angles.

He stands tall. So Muscular. Quietly masculine. Despite how dreamy his hair is.

“Omg! Your hair!! Whats your routine?” - every woman who meets him, ever.

“Genetics.”

Suguru responds the same way every time with a dimpled smile. The other party is always immediately caught in his web.

His eyes. They lure you in like quicksand. Onyx. Swarming with grey and violet specks. Stormy. Perpetually faraway.

He’s the perfect gentleman. But always a little bit above it all. Just out of reach.

It’s mesmerizing.

You can’t blame the women for trying any and everything for a tiny piece.

Suguru catches your gaze. Silky smile pulls across his lips. He beckons you with one swirl of the liquid gold in his hands.

“What are you doing here, pretty boy?”

“Happy to see you too.” He counters with a low chuckle.

You coax the sweet treat away from him. It’s precisely what you need.

Suguru always has his pulse on you. Somehow he knows where to be and when. Every time.

“Mmm” your eyes flutter shut. Savoring the sickly sweet, cold mush on your tongue.

“Exactly what you wanted?”

“Exactly. Have I told you I love you lately?”

“Not nearly enough.” His baritone hovers over you. Traveling down your spine at light speed.

Has he always sounded this sultry?

You lazily pull yourself out of the sugar-induced dopamine hit.

Suguru moves into you like a storm cloud. Accentuating the comical difference in stature. The world around you slowly dissipates.

Lost in the desert mirage of his gaze. Everything feels conscious.

Your shallow breathing. The thrum of blood surging through your vessels. Heart rattling against its bony cage.

Time stops.

Then it happens all at once.

Before you know what is happening, your best friend’s well built arm is around your waist. His large, veiny hand palming the nape of your neck.

His lips. His plump rosy lips are on yours. Sweet and warm. Pulling, pushing, melding with you into play dough.

He’s delicious.

More delectable than you knew possible.

“Mmmgh” You moan and Suguru takes the space to push his tongue into your mouth. He’s blinding. Expertly tickling the ridges and corners of your mouth. As if to show off just how skilled he is with his tongue.

“S-Suguru..”

He pulls away far before you’re ready. Shocking you out of your lusty daze. For a moment he just rests his moist lips on yours. Exchanging breaths between each other. As if only you two are the source of oxygen around you.

“Wha…what was..”

“There’s a guy burning a crater into your back.” He finally responds. Gruff. Strained. You’ve never seen him without a tight leash around his self-command.

“I didn’t want him thinking he has a chance.”

And just like that, the familiar tame control lines his velvet baritone.

Suguru places a chaste kiss on your cheek before starting to walk in the direction of your apartment. As if the world didn’t just tilt on its axis.

You’re able to maintain a fairly normal conversation with your best friend the entire walk back to your apartment. You both laugh and joke as if he didn’t just fuck your mouth with his tongue. And as if you didn’t feel drunk off of it.

You’re just friends.

…right?

You toss your keys somewhere to your left. In the periphery you see Suguru smile and shake his head. Well aware of your messy tendencies. He leans down to take your keys and place them on the door hook.

The devil on your shoulder is deafening.

Test it.

Test him.

Your hand moves before your mind.

Your fingers hook under your sports bra. Pulling it over your head in one smooth motion. Before your mounds bounce in full view, your arm cups them against your chest.

You turn to Suguru, now topless.

“Gonna hop in the shower for a little. Are you staying for dinner?” Willing your voice to be steady and light. A casual question amidst the mayhem in your mind.

And, as expected, Suguru is the perfect gentleman.

His olive tone is even. Hands slotting into his athletic pants. Faint smile tracing on his lips, dimple apparent in his left cheek.

His eyes don’t falter below your neckline. Not even for a moment.

“Not tonight, pretty. There’s a show I want to catch. Rain check?”

Of course, you’re just friends.

Best friends.

You flash him a genuine smile. Swallowing the nagging flecks of dissappointnent beginning to weave itself within you.

“Rain check!”

And maybe 10 or so minutes after soaking in your steamy shower. Trying to wash the remnants of his kiss out of your memory, you hear your door slamming shut.

You make a mental note to ask about what show he was referring to.

———

Whiskey glides hot and cold down Suguru’s throat.

Back flushed against his desk chair.

Patiently awaiting his 10:00 PM viewing.

His dick is a steel rod. Blushing and moist. Draped in a pair of your used panties. He swiped them on his way out of your apartment.

Suguru drags his palm lazily up and down his shaft. Soaking your lingerie in beads of pre cum. It’s like he’s feeling you rubbing your plush cunt up and down his rod.

Fog is settling opaque in his mind. While he pets the flame stirring between his legs.

You haven’t even come into frame yet. But Suguru admires the pristine view he has of your room. Porcelain duvet messily strewn about. Half open night stand. Magenta vibrator propped against the corner of your drawer.

How often do you touch yourself?

What do you think about?

How pretty do you sound? When you milk pleasure from your dewy core?

“Fuck,” Suguru hisses.

He brings the whiskey glass back to his parted lips. The thought of seeing you work yourself to a peak drove his hand up and down his cock too fast. If he’s not careful he’ll cum before he’s ready.

No.

Not tonight.

Tonight he wants to savor his relapse.

24 hours sober of you was unbearable. He deserves this indulgence.

Suguru tilts his chin up. Damp hair feathering his shoulders and back feels refreshingly cool against the lava circulating beneath his skin.

“You like teasing me don’t you?” He murmurs, slowly pumping his cock through his strained grip.

The way you pulled off your sports bra. Well before you reached your bathroom door. Pretty bedroom eyes raking his face. Testing him. You knew he would go home and feverishly fuck his fist for you. Didn’t you?

A siren’s melody pulls his hazy, dazed attention back to screen.

“There she is.”

Suguru leans closer to his screens. Giving himself kudos for choosing a camera system with audiovisual integration this time around.

You step in full view of his camera and his body stills. Completely statuesque. Mouth ajar. His cock drool dribbling down his stiff hand is the only source of movement in the room.

“Fuck…fucking hell.”

There you stood. Thong as richly colored as the wine in your glass. Accentuating the dramatic dip and swell of your pretty waist and hips. The wavy lines from your slender shoulders to your full tits are enough to make him seasick. Your nipples are so hard. Puffier than he imagined.

You are immaculate.

A divine being. Heaven’s incarnate.

And even if you weren’t. Even if you were the devil. He’d follow you to the depth of hell.

A thick surge of pre cum flicking back against his lower abs pulls him briefly out of his trance. Suguru didn’t realize how hard he was strangling his length. Which is violently jerking in haphazard directions.

Begging for its real owner.

Suguru drags in a deep breath. Reluctantly unraveling his needy hand away from his manhood. Another sip of icy brown liquor.

Savor this.

As if your souls are tied, you take a sip of red wine before settling in your bed. Back against your head board. Feet planted on your plush duvet. You let your knees fall to the side and Suguru nearly drools on himself.

A blooming rose.

Presenting your swollen, misty petals to him for worship. His eyes drop to your core. A thin line of fabric laid so perfectly between your folds.

Suguru has to remind himself that you aren’t in front of him.

And he can’t just dive into your dewy cunt. And nuzzle against your bud. And lap up the honey in between your folds.

You rest your head against the wall. Exposing the delicate lines of your neck. His left hand magnets back to his cock. His right hits the record function on the screen.

You are too special not to capture.

But, even if he couldn’t record you on this system, every moment right now is etched into his mind for an eternity.

Especially the way your dainty fingers travel down your chest, along your torso, beneath the hem of your panties and settle over your clit.

“That’s it, princess.” Suguru chants beneath his clipped breaths. Dragging your soaked underwear along his messy shaft.

He matches his pace to your tiny circles. Small, gorgeous pants tumble out of you.

Your other hand palms at your tits. Pinching and pulling at your pert nipples. Your hips buck at the sweet pleasure and pain.

“Good girl”

His arousal continues to collect at his base, trickling to his inner thighs. The sound of his hilt slamming into his hand fill the room.

“God. S..Suguru…”

His name thunders between his ears.

His name wrapped in that melodic, lusty falsetto of yours.

Suguru’s brain can barely register the way your tits bounce in rhythm with your hands. Pistoning your fingers in and out of your sweet cunt. Ascending to euphoria. He can barely register the way your lips are swollen and abused from your teeth. Or the light sheen of sweat along your collarbones.

“Fuck, Suguru please..” you moan. Both hands now working your flower.

Suguru is slack jawed. Completely short circuited. He cannot move.

Unblinking, he studies you. Hands at his side. Cock spearing high in the air, leaking.

His mind is flooded with the thin, featherlight moans and whines. Sticky arousal leaks from your needy opening around your fingers. Coating your inner thighs. How you twist and groan away from your own pleasure - so clearly overstimulated but not stopping your fingers, anyway.

“Say my name, pretty girl. Say my name.” Suguru rasps out. Sharp pain lightening through him from the dryness in his throat.

And you do. You moan his name when you reach nirvana. Heaving and whining and squirming in your mess. You called for him.

“God, I’m disgusting.”

You laugh through the remnants of your high and bury yourself under the duvet. Lazily tapping the bedside lamp. Bringing Suguru’s private viewing to an end.

And his smile is vulturous.

Suguru’s hand runs the length of his insatiable cock. Slow, lazy strokes. Haphazard twitches pushing out globs of cum. Begging for an encore.

You think you’re disgusting?

Ohhh, sweet girl.

You don’t know the half of it.

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sturnioloskyline · 7 months

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flu season

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: illness, crying, language, sickening fluff(get it?)

summary: you get the flu and don’t tell matt, so he gets worried takes things into his own hands

being sick sucks. no one knew that bettter than y/n, who was currently buried under blankets on her couch in her apartment in la. this morning she woke up sweating with a pounding headache and an inability to breathe through the congestion in her nose.

she called in sick to work and stayed in bed until noon before mustering up enough strength to get up and make a cup of ramen noodles. she then settled to watch a movie on the couch, where she ended up falling asleep.

not far away, matt nervously chewed on the skin in his cheek as he stared at his phone. he had sent 5 texts to his girlfriend today, none of them having received a response.

matt knew this meant something was wrong, because usually y/n would text him a sweet “good morning” the second she started her day. they weren’t fighting, at least that matt knew of, so of course matt was sent into a anxious spiral over the lack of responses from his girlfriend.

finally, matt ripped his eyes away from the screen, walking over to the kitchen where his two brothers were standing, giggling to each other. matt ignored them and grabbed his car keys from the counter, immediately catching the other triplets’ attention.

“matt, where are you going?” chris whined.

“y/n’s.” matt quickly replied, stuffing the keys into his pocket and heading for the garage. chris and nick immediately looked to each other in worry at the expression on their brother’s face.

“is everything okay?” nick asked matt cautiously.

“i don’t know, she isn’t responding to any of my texts,” matt rambled, putting on his shoes. “i’m just gonna go make sure she’s okay.”

matt rushed out the door before his brothers could say anything else. he got in his car and began driving over to y/n’s place. he chewed on his lip nervously as he drove, his anxiety only growing the longer he didn’t hear from y/n.

after what seemed like hours, matt parked outside y/n’s apartment building and made his way home to her front door. he rang the doorbell immediately and stepped back to wait for her.

inside the apartment, y/n jolted awake at the sound of her doorbell ringing. her head was throbbing in pain, her throat was scratchy, and the air in her living room felt ten times colder than it was when she fell asleep. she got up from her nest on the couch and shivered, grabbing one of the blankets and wrapping it around herself.

the doorbell rang again, creating a sense of urgency as y/n tried to compose herself somewhat for whoever could be ringing her doorbell and disrupting her afternoon. she struggled to the door, messing with the lock weakly before finally swinging the door open.

“y/n,” matt sighed in relief immediately as y/n opened the door.

“matt?” y/n croaked out in shock. heat rose to her cheeks. she hadn’t invited matt over, and was unprepared for him to see her. matt and y/n had only been dating for a while, and she had never been sick around her ever. “what are you doing here?”

“i needed to see if you were okay. are you okay?” matt asked, his face scrunching slightly with worry once again as his eyes scanned over y/n’s pale face.

y/n didn’t know if it was the shock of her boyfriend showing up to her apartment, the embarrassment she felt from her sickly look, or how miserably sick she felt, but suddenly her eyes watered and her lip trembled as she shook her head at matt.

“oh, baby,” matt whispered, stepping into the apartment and wrapping his arms around y/n.

she immediately melted into his arms, a weight on her shoulders lifted as matt locked the door behind him and held y/n in his arms in silence. tears streamed down her cheeks as she sniffled into his jacket. matt leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“wanna sit down?” matt asked as y/n’s cries softened. y/n simply nodded, letting matt lead her back to the couch. when the sat down, matt wrapped one arm around y/n frame, letting her lean into him. “what’s wrong?”

“i caught the flu.” y/n sniffed, rubbing her sore eyes. “i feel like shit.”

“i’m sorry baby,” matt whispered into y/n’s hair, letting his fingertips graze up and down her arm.

“i’m sorry you have to deal with this,” y/n mumbled, suddenly shy of matt seeing her with her messy hair and in t-shirt and sweats.

“you have nothing to be sorry about,” matt scoffed, bringing his hand to her cheek and tilting her head up to place a soft peck on her lips. as if sensing her insecurity, matt giggled “you look so pretty right now.”

y/n blushed and leaned impossibly further into matt’s arms. “can you stay here with me?”

“of course,” matt spoke softly, pulling y/n closer to his chest. a few minutes later, y/n’s breathing slowed, and matt looked down at her head buried in his chest.

“babe?” matt whispered. y/n didn’t respond. matt smiled at his girlfriend’s sleeping figure before reaching over to grab one of the blankets from the couch and draping it over both of their bodies. matt leaned his face down to kiss the top of y/n’s head, before letting his own eyes flutter shut.

…

author’s note: pls don’t bully me this is my first try! i literally have never written on tumblr before and i haven’t written in like 2 years anyways, so. but if u have any advice or want a part 2 pls let me know!!!!!! OK BYE

#sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #fluff

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partycatty · 4 months

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johnny cage > keep it down

it's hard to focus on johnny's movie when he's aching and needy under your shared blanket.

warnings: handjorb... got bored and decided to give this an... exotic twist.

notes: @spacepl4ant i hope you like what i did to your idea LMAO

[ masterlist ]

• johnny's getting on in years, and you often poke fun at him for falling asleep in his comically large recliner, or his complaints about the younger generation when he gets a little too nostalgic. as famous as he is now, he defends his prime like a religion. this includes a movie night every week, and you half-protest to his own films each time. unfortunately for you, you caved when he gave you his world famous puppy eyes. damn him and his manipulative pleading stare!

• he was eerily silent about halfway through, lips sucked in firm and brows furrowed, hips adjusting ever so slightly every few minutes. he looked feverish, a little offputting, and his radiating heat was hard to ignore.

• the sighs and borderline whines were enough to fully grab your attention. "everything alright over there?" you glance at his form, his pajamas even still flattering his form beyond belief. he returns a side-eyed look, like a dog caught eating plastic.

• "mmh?" his exhale has a pathetic hum to it, lids low and pupils blown out. you'd been with johnny long enough to know that look, the one of sudden arousal. his sex drive was incredible for a guy his age, you were truly blessed, weren't you?

• you hum back, chuckling at his neediness as your hand snakes along his pajama-clad thigh. slowly gliding your hand up to his yes-yes zone, you catch a feel of his meatstick.

• "need some help there?" you smirk up at him, shuffling closer and shifting your torso to face him better. his grin is lazy, nodding twice with a droopy head before stealing a quick kiss from your parted lips.

• "you know me too well," he shifts his hips forward, fingers already notching into his waistband and tugging down his pants leaving only a starry pair of boxers. you two share a cute giggle that quickly turns into desperate groans, clashing your lips together as the heat settles into the situation.

• johnny couldn't wait a moment more, he never could, and puts your hand in his as he slowly glides across his gear shifter. you feel its length and weight as you lift it from his thigh, stroking his weewee through his underwear.

• his head rolls back, already being overwhelmed from the way you squeeze his pork whistle to make it throb and hips writhe in desperation. precum wets his boxers, sticky with his horniness for you at any given moment. you were his drug, and he couldn't help but be turned on every moment he laid his eyes on you. a quiet room, hum of a movie, and warm blanket set things over for him tonight.

• you grip and tease his lincoln log in spiral strokes, and his hips twitch upward at the sudden change in movement. johnny fears that if you two get beyond his underwear, he might cum from the skin contact alone.

• johnny's weenor aches, a tight fist in his pants that takes over his senses as he covers his face with his forearm, biting his bottom lip as pathetic whimpers escapes his lips. it was cute to unwind such a big, dominant man on his submissive days, which were few and far in between.

• your fingers dance on the waistband of his underwear, sliding up and down his salt and pepper happy trail. he unshields his eyes for only a second, breathing a deep groan when he gets a good look at your hand bobbing underneath the plush blanket.

• "fuck, fuck, m'so good for me-" is all he can muster to say, curses and praises pouring from his lips that are borderline incoherent when you grip his tinky winky at last, running your thumb along the length of his juanito and coating it in his seemingly endless stream of precum. he was slick and in need of more friction, teetering on the edge of begging. johnny never begs.

• johnny's fingers dig into the armrest of the couch, bucking his hips up and fucking his danger noodle into your palm. he wanted to take what he wanted, attempting to take control but it felt so fucking hard when you were in control. his eyes felt wet and glassy, brows furrowed so hard his forehead was beginning to ache.

• his hotdog beat hard in your hand, his heartbeat and needy throbs increasingly more prevalent as he neared his end. johnny could feel it, knowing he was close, and you could tell through his whimpers that only spill out when he's dangerously close. he hooks his fingers on the blanket, tugging it down to his thighs with a deep moan as he finally gets a good view of your hand reaching into his pajama pants and stroking his disco stick with such fervor it was going to make him cry at the sight.

• you bite your lip as you focus, your arm growing tired of the consistent motion but purely motivated by his whimpers and cries for release, a sound you wish to never forget.

• at the last possible moment, johnny wraps his large hand over yours, stroking his pickle rick alongside yours at a lightning pace. it was what he needed, more than anything, to paint both of your hands with his cum and stuff it into your pretty mouth.

• the thought sends him over the edge, his skin flute twitching with each rope of cum that shoots out. your hands, his stomach and thighs were quickly painted, a complete mess made of his arousal and johnny could just grin with the least amount of shame one man could have.

• "i love when you take control," he breathlessly admits, admiring the way you slowly and lazily stroke his slowly softening yogurt hose. "it's not often, but it drives me fuckin' crazy, you know."

• "i know," you place a chaste kiss to his lips, grinning into his face as your noses brush against each other. "you look so pretty when i do."

• "you always know how to flatter me," he pats your thigh with his clean hand, glancing down at his filthy one after. he chuckles dryly, displaying his palm to you and spreading his fingers apart to show the mess he made. "get a towel for me, sugar? i'd do it myself but i'd rather not leave a trail."

• "you're gross," you swat at his shoulder, which causes zero effect on his large figure. he just grins sleepily in response, shrugging ever so slightly. he knows you'll take him either way.

• "awh, we missed the best part!" he flutters a hand at you as you walk off, eyes transfixed on the screen once more. "ohh, that scene took days to shoot!"

• "you just came in my hand and you went straight back to the tv," you sarcastically groan, returning with a wet rag to wipe his thighs and stomach clean. "we should really stop all these movie nights."

• he puts a hand to his chest with an offended gasp. "what are you saying?"

• "i'm sayiiiing," you pull lint from his shirt. "that we need to just keep it down and stop the funny business if you want me to actually watch your movies."

• "you love it," he beckons toward you and you cuddle up to his side, the blanket discarded as the heat would have left you two sweaty after all that's happened. "so... should i rewind, orrrr...?"

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut #mk11

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strangespector · 2 months

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Heartbreak Anniversary

Summary: Love, break up and healing

Words: 873

A/N: Going through it right now

Meeting Jenna Ortega felt like a scene out of a movie. We were introduced by a mutual friend at a small gathering in Los Angeles. I had always been a fan of her work, admiring her talent and charisma from afar. The moment our eyes met, it felt like destiny. We clicked instantly, laughing and sharing stories late into the night. Jenna’s warmth and kindness were intoxicating, and it wasn’t long before we became inseparable.

My past was a tapestry of pain, woven from a troubled childhood with abusive and distant parents. Having Jenna in my life felt like a blessing, a beacon of hope that illuminated my darkest days. Our love blossomed quickly, and we spent every waking moment together, filling the voids in each other’s hearts.

As months passed, our bond grew stronger. We were inseparable, sharing dreams and fears, building a sanctuary of love and trust. But as they say, good things don’t last forever. Jenna landed a role in a new TV show that required her to be abroad for almost a year. The thought of being apart was unbearable, but I was adamant that our love could withstand the distance. Jenna, however, had reservations about a long-distance relationship, yet she agreed, trusting my optimism.

From the beginning, Jenna insisted on keeping our relationship a secret. She was adamant that her public image remain untarnished by the complications of a personal relationship. I understood her reasons but felt the sting of being hidden away, a secret love that couldn't be shared with the world.

The first few months were filled with constant communication. We texted, called, and video chatted every chance we got. But as Jenna’s schedule became more demanding, the messages became sparse, and calls went unanswered. My mental health began to spiral as I grappled with the fear of losing her. The distance wasn’t just physical; it started to feel emotional too. Despite my pleas, Jenna never offered to fly me out to visit her. I felt like an afterthought, a hidden part of her life that she could easily compartmentalize.

Then came the rumors. Social media buzzed with speculation about Jenna and her co-star, Emma. Paparazzi photos showed them together, looking cozy on multiple occasions. My heart shattered. Was I not good enough? The tabloids only fueled my insecurities, and soon, the story was everywhere.

Jenna called, knowing I had seen the articles. She assured me they were just rumors, that Emma was a good friend who supported her on tough days. I wanted to believe her, but the growing distance and lack of communication made it hard. I felt like I was begging for her attention, for her love. Jenna promised things would get better once her schedule eased up, but deep down, doubt began to take root.

Weeks turned into months, and nothing changed. I was tired of being the one holding on. I stopped updating Jenna about my life, stopped sending her good morning texts and detailed paragraphs about my day. My silence was met with indifference. Jenna didn’t reach out to mend the growing rift between us. I began to disassociate from the relationship, protecting my heart from further pain.

Then one day, Jenna called. Her voice was calm but distant. She said she couldn’t give me what I needed and ended our relationship. My heart shattered into a million pieces. How could she give up so easily after a year of being together? The pain was unbearable, but I knew I had to respect her decision. Tears streamed down my face as I realized it was over.

Months passed, and Jenna returned home, her show finally wrapped. She tried to adjust to life without her co-stars, without the constant bustle of work. Alone with her thoughts, Jenna began to regret breaking up with me. She tried reaching out, but I didn’t respond. I had moved on, surrounding myself with friends and family, picking up new hobbies, and slowly piecing my life back together. It was a painful process, filled with nights of tears and self-doubt, but I was finally starting to feel like I could breathe again.

Then came the event. I was working backstage, busy with preparations, when I saw her. Jenna walked into the dressing room, and our eyes met. She came up to me and said hi, her voice filled with nostalgia and regret. She told me she missed me, and for a moment, the world stopped. I smiled, acknowledging her words. Jenna said I looked great and was happy to see me thriving. Little did she know, I had spent countless nights crying over her, battling my demons in silence. But I had emerged stronger.

I told Jenna I was proud of her, that I always knew she was destined for great things. We both smiled, a bittersweet acknowledgment of what we had and what we lost. We knew the road had ended there. With a final embrace, we parted ways, thankful for the love we shared when we needed it most.

Every story has an ending, and ours was no different. Jenna and I went our separate ways, carrying the memories of our love. It wasn’t a fairytale, but it was real. And sometimes, that’s enough. In another universe, we would have been together.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #strangespector #angst

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dominantslasherking · 16 days

Text

The Butcher aka Cooper With Dominant Male S/o

Authors note: This Dilf is so fine...from the new movie "Trap".

Backstory: Seems like the serial killer the butcher is a big fan of you, a famous horror and thriller writer, who just so happens to be at the concert he was attending...He can't take his eyes off of you.

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+

The thumping beat of the concert reverberated through the venue as Cooper Adams walked alongside his daughter, Riley, navigating through the crowds and masses of overly loud fans. The flashing lights and excited murmurs of the fans around them only made his steps quicken as he held his daughters hand giving Riley a small smile as he rushed through. He wasn’t particularly interested in the music, but this concert meant the world to Riley.

Still, something more exhilarating had caught his attention tonight—something far more important than the performer they had come to see, Riley had some fun, it was his turn, finally something that was worth while.

As they neared the merchandise stands, Cooper’s heart skipped a beat when he spotted the familiar logo of his favorite author—your logo.

A large banner of your name, [Your Name], hung proudly over a stand dedicated entirely to limited-edition merch from your latest horror novels. A wave of excitement surged through him. You were his obsession, his secret desire. Not only were you a celebrated horror and thriller writer, but you embodied everything that twisted his mind into dangerous knots.

Every dark corner of his soul came alive when he thought of you, admired you, studied you, his smile suddenly widened, Riley just akwardly looked at her father, giving a tilt to her head as she observed her father, not thinking much of it.

Cooper's stomach tightened with frustration when he noticed that the signing event had already ended. A young woman at the front of the stand, practically bouncing on her feet, was showing off her signed copy of your latest release to anyone who would listen. "I can’t believe I got his autograph! He’s even more handsome in person," she squealed, the fan was dripped in head to toe of yor merch, as she just gushed, showed off, what she had got.

Cooper’s fingers twitched, clenching into fists in his jacket pockets. His jaw set tight as jealousy simmered under his skin. That woman had your attention—even for a fleeting moment. He hated the idea of anyone having a piece of you that wasn’t his.

With a nonchalant glance toward his daughter; who was now scrolling mindlessly on her phone, Cooper let his foot slide out just enough for the gushing fan to trip.

The fan-girl stumbled, her body crashing into the merch stand. She hit the edge with a sickening thud, her head knocking against the hard surface, and a thin stream of blood began to trickle down her forehead.

People gasped and rushed to her aid some yelling out for help while others urgent to fingure out what happened. but Cooper’s expression remained impassive. He leaned down toward Riley, his voice soft and controlled. "We should go," he said calmly his hand suddenly snatching a keychain of one of the killers in one of your most famous novels. "The singer’s about to start."

Riley nodded, oblivious to the chaos Cooper her father had just caused. They left the scene behind, and Cooper took a steadying breath. Hurting the girl had been easy—too easy—but the satisfaction of it didn’t last long.

His thoughts were already spiraling back to you. He couldn’t stop wondering where you might be right now. Were you still here at the concert? Were you watching the performance like any other fan? Would you even notice him? The chances of that were unlikely, you probably left already. "You okay dad?" Riley piped up finally looking up from her phone, "Yeah kiddo, just your dad being a fan..." Cooper said giving his daughter a fake smile,she just nodded. "Yeah, I'm so excited to hear 'The Crow' singing, obviously he's not as good as Lady Raven but, he's my second fav." Riley had gushed with a big smile on her face. --- --- Meanwhile, seated in the far rows of the concert hall, you leaned back in your chair, trying to stay out of sight. A few fans had already recognized you and asked for autographs, but now your focus was on the performance. The lights on stage dimmed, and the crowd roared in excitement as The Crow was about to appear. You had come here as a brief escape from your writing, but a part of you enjoyed watching the excitement build, the way the energy of a crowd swelled in anticipation.

As the first chords of the music played, you felt the eyes of onlookers on you. Some discreet, others more obvious, but nothing that grabbed your attention for long—

Cooper Adams, accompanied by his daughter, found his seat a few rows away from you. But something in the way he carried himself caught your attention. You had no idea that this unassuming suburban dad, who appeared so attentive to his daughter, was secretly one of your biggest fans and a very famous murderer. Or that beneath that calm, composed exterior, Cooper’s mind was swirling with fantasies—dangerous, obsessive fantasies.

As his gaze swept the crowd, his eyes landed on you, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. The flashing lights, the noise of the concert, even his daughter—it all faded as Cooper’s breath caught in his throat. You were still here. He hadn’t missed his chance after all.

His chest tightened, his heart pounding as thoughts of submission briefly flickered in his mind. Cooper clenched his jaw, pushing those thoughts away. No, he thought, mentally berating himself. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t some needy fool, desperate for your attention—except he was ready to kneel down open his mouth and!!---. His hands trembled as he tried to keep his composure, but every part of him ached to be noticed by you. He wanted you to see him, to acknowledge him, maybe even more than that.

'Control yourself', Cooper, he chastised in his mind. 'You’re not the kind of man to submit. You're the one in charge, the one who dominates.' Yet no matter how much he tried to convince himself, the thoughts of giving in to you—of letting you have power over him—kept creeping in, no matter how much he hated it. He stood next to his daughter, Riley, who was singing, jumping, dancing along to the music, lost in the excitement of the moment.

But Cooper’s mind wasn’t on the singer or the performance. It was on you—the man sitting just a few rows away, your sharp, smoky eyes fixed on the stage, oblivious to the man obsessing over you, a few feet from you. Cooper couldn’t help but stare. His heart hammered in his chest, and a thrill coursed through his veins as he took you in. The famous horror and thriller writer, [Your Name], in the flesh—right there. Every twisted story you’d ever written had fueled his darkest desires fuck he even jerked off to a few, and now you were close enough that he could almost reach out and touch you. He drank in every detail of you: the way you sat, the confident set of your jaw, the subtle intensity in your expression as you watched the concert.

And then, it happened. Your eyes shifted, tilting just slightly in his direction, as though you could feel his gaze drilling into you. Cooper’s breath hitched in his throat when your sharp eyes locked with his. For a brief moment, the world seemed to freeze around him. You were staring right back at him.

His pulse quickened, a hot surge of excitement coursing through him as a tightening sensation began to build in his pants. There was something primal, predatory, about the way your gaze lingered on him, as if you were sizing him up. It sent a shiver down his spine, a thrill he hadn’t felt in ages (Course he would feel some type of feeling with his kills but none like this). He could barely contain the flood of emotions rushing through him—admiration, obsession, lust.

He shifted his attention briefly to Riley, who was still lost in the performance, her attention fully on the stage. Cooper cleared his throat, forcing his voice to remain casual. “I’ll be back in a minute, sweetheart,” he said, a little too quickly.

Riley waved him off without a second glance, too absorbed in the music to care as she went back to dancing and jumpin.

This was the opening Cooper had been waiting for. He smoothed his jacket, trying to appear composed, but the surge of adrenaline racing through him told a different story. 'This is it,' he thought, 'I’m going to meet him.' Stretching lips into a smile. As Cooper made his way through the crowd, each step felt heavier, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts. A part of him felt ridiculous—'What am I doing?'—but the other part, the darker side, was elated. This was his chance. His fantasies about you had been building for years, and now, finally, he was going to be face to face with the man who consumed his every waking thought.

When he finally stood before you, his breath hitched again. Up close, you were even more striking—confident, aloof, as if you were completely aware of the effect you had on others but didn’t care.

You looked at him, amusement flickering across your face, your sharp gaze studying him like you were dissecting a character in one of your novels.

“Big fan, huh?” Your voice was smooth, low, teasing. It sent a jolt through Cooper, making him feel exposed, vulnerable, and that made him hate the feeling. But at the same time, he wanted more of it. He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to suppress the sudden urge to submit—to give in to the pull you had over him.

“I—yeah,” Cooper stammered, feeling heat creep up his neck as he spoke. He cleared his throat, trying to recover. “I’ve been following your work for years.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Oh? For years?” You leaned back in your seat, eyeing him up and down, your gaze lingering on his well-built frame. Cooper could feel your eyes raking over him, and for a moment, he felt like he was one of your characters—trapped under the scrutiny of a killer, waiting for his fate. He shifted on his feet, the thrill mixing with a tinge of nervousness.

“You don’t strike me as a horror fan,” you continued, your tone teasing, like you were already playing a game Cooper didn’t fully understand yet. “Most dads like you are into, I don’t know, football or action movies.” Your gaze lingered a little too long on his broad chest and strong arms, making it clear you noticed his physique. “But you… you’re different, aren’t you?” The husky voice of your whispered into his ear, as it was really hard to hear over all the fans screaming.

Cooper swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. The way you spoke, the way you looked at him—it was making it difficult for him to think straight. His mind flashed with images of giving in, of submitting to you, of being at your mercy, but he quickly shoved those thoughts away. 'No,' he told himself. 'You’re in control, Cooper.'

But that didn’t stop his pulse from quickening, or the heat spreading through his body as he stood before you, trying to come up with something, anything, to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete fool.

“I’ve always appreciated the darker side of things,” Cooper finally managed, his voice steadier now. “Your work—it resonates with me.” He said his body slightly leaning to also whisper into your ear. His eyes flicked down briefly before meeting yours again, the primal intensity in your gaze still making his heart race.

You chuckled softly, leaning in slightly. “Is that so? Well, let’s hope you don’t resonate too much with the killers in my stories.” The teasing edge in your voice was unmistakable, but there was something more behind it—something intrigued. You could tell this wasn’t just another fan. There was something off about Cooper, something familiar, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it yet.

Cooper felt a surge of both excitement and unease. He was standing in front of the man who had unknowingly shaped his darkest fantasies, and now he was being teased by him. It was everything Cooper had ever wanted, and yet it was terrifying. His thoughts began to spiral again—submissive urges flickering at the edges of his mind—but he quickly shoved them aside. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t here to submit.

But the way you looked at him… God, it made him question everything. fuck, he's getting hard again.

#cooper adams trap #cooper adams #cooper adams smut #cooper adams x you #cooper adams x reader #cooper adams x male reader #slasher x reader #bottom slasher x top male reader #slasher x male reader #josh hartnett trap #trap movie #obsession #obsessed cooper adams

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helpimstuckposting · 1 year

Text

I couldn’t get my earlier post out of my head, and then this happened so… I hope you enjoy a little famous!Eddie and dingus!Steve ficlet (ft platonic soulmate Stobin)

Part one | part two | part three

—

Steve and Robin had lived in Indy all of their lives. They shared the same schools, same teachers, same jobs, it would never end. They were platonic soulmates in a way they understood but couldn’t explain to anyone else, and that was okay. It worked for them.

Since they graduated, they’d been ice cream scoopers, movie rental employees, pizza makers, delivery drivers, movie theater security, bartenders, and now - surprisingly - musicians.

They had originally started messing around with song covers during their bartending era. Every Thursday was karaoke night, and they were both too competitive to see it as anything other than a chance to win, both trying to upstage the other. After a while, Steve started writing songs in his free time and Robin wouldn’t let anyone but her sing them. She posted their songs on Tiktok and Instagram just to see what would happen, and eventually they made their way onto Spotify and other streaming services.

A few of their songs went viral enough that they had a steady stream of listeners, and spent their free time putting more and more songs together. Their boss even let them play live at the bar on Wednesdays (and of course they’re still just as passionate about karaoke night).

It was a few months into their Wednesday shows when he showed up. Eddie Munson. It was just another bar in Indy, just a stop on their tour, just a coincidence that he happened to choose Robin and Steve’s bar. Steve noticed him during their set, and he was so glad in that moment that Robin was the lead singer because he was absolutely sure his voice would have cracked. Corroded Coffin was one of Dustin’s favorite bands, the kid wouldn’t shut up about them any time a new album or single was released.

Steve knew they were in Indy on tour, he’d witnessed Dustin’s spiral about not being able to afford a ticket, but he couldn’t believe they stopped in this bar. Dustin was gonna freak.

Once Robin and Steve finished their set, they went back to the bar to resume their actual jobs and Steve was once again stunned when Eddie Munson walked right up to him for a drink. Obviously Steve should have expected that, what else was someone going to do at a bar? But seeing someone he knows from the multiple posters plastered over Dustin’s bedroom wall, right in front of him - in the flesh, was beyond anything he could have predicted. Internally, he was absolutely freaking out.

Externally, he tried to keep his professional mask on. Munson was a regular customer, just a guy buying a drink, Steve could handle it without a meltdown. But man was the guy attractive. His band tee was ripped at the hem, jean vest with all its pins and buttons catching the light, and Steve could see the tendon in his neck pull as he laughed at something his band mate next to him said. Steve wanted to bite it.

He finished a customer’s drink, collected their card, and braced himself as Munson stepped up to the bar, a dimpled smile on his face that made Steve’s heart flutter like a dying butterfly in his chest.

“Nice set, man, your friend’s voice is gorgeous,” he said. “Can I get three rum and cokes?”

Grabbing three glasses from the bar, Steve began on the drinks. “Absolutely,” he said, his smile probably nowhere near Eddie’s level. “Are you here often, or just visiting?” Steve asked, attempting to play it cool, like Eddie was just any other person. This is ridiculous, Steve’s gonna throw up. Keep calm.

Eddie looked him up and down and smirked, “Just visiting for the weekend,” he said. A growing lump in Steve’s throat made him want to scream ‘I know!!! I know why you’re here!!! I know who you are!!! Hi!!!’ but he shoved that down as far as it could go, ready to choke on it if need be.

Steve set the finished drinks on the bar in front of Eddie, the musician handing over his card in exchange. “Open or closed?” He asked.

“Open. So, are those songs originals?” Eddie leaned into the bar, putting his face just a bit closer to Steve’s. He was gonna have a heart attack before the night was over, for sure, if Eddie kept this up.

“Oh, yeah, I uh… I wrote them,” Steve stuttered out. This was insane, he could pinch himself, there was no way this situation was happening. Eddie was gorgeous, dimples firmly in place because he wouldn’t stop smiling or smirking, his curls just begging for Steve to bury his hands in them and bring their faces closer. If Steve hadn’t been on the receiving end of hundreds of Dustin’s rants about Corroded Coffin, he knows he’d still want to drag Eddie out back and see what those lips tasted like, if they felt as much like sunshine as they looked.

Eddie nodded appreciatively and looked Steve up and down once again. “I’d love to hear more some time,” he said as he turned to leave, three glasses balanced in his hands.

“Well there’s karaoke here tomorrow night,” Steve blurted out, all attempts at remaining calm flying out the window because was that Eddie flirting with him? How did we get here? “You could stop by if you’ve got any free time.”

Eddie laughed, amusement flickering in his eyes and suddenly Steve remembered chasing fireflies in Robin’s backyard when they were kids. He started walking backwards towards his friends, “I’ll see what I can do!” he said with a raised voice, flashing one more smile that made that butterfly in Steve’s chest absolutely flip out. He was frozen in place, the shock of the whole situation settling deep in his bones. Honestly, Steve wasn’t sure he was still alive. Did he choke somewhere between the stage and the bar? Did he even make it to work in the first place? What day was it?

“Earth to Dingus!” Robin shouted at the other end of the bar. “A little help here?” she frantically gestured around her to the rising number of patrons.

A pretty decently sized mob was forming around the bar, snapping Steve out of his rock-star-induced-coma. He could freak out later in the privacy of his own home, right now he had work to do. And if his brain short circuited every time Eddie ordered drinks, that was nobody’s business but his own (and Robin’s).

—

Thank you so much for the encouragement !

#these dingi have somehow snapped me out of my writers block #help I can’t stop thinking about them #I’ve never successfully flirted with a bartender but I’m sure rock stars have a different score sheet #steve harington #eddie munson #steddie #famous eddie munson #platonic soulmates stobin #stobin #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #robin buckley #helpimstuckwriting

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anniebeemine · 1 month

Note

Since ur requests are open, may I get uhhhhh, BAU!reader that organizes a movie night with spencer but her friend who was over earlier is still there, and Spencer's outside the door hearing laughing and a buzzing? And when he knocks readers friend opens the door and he's relieved to see that it's just reader getting a tattoo from her artist friend instead of the buzzing of a vibrator bc he (not so) secretly is really into Reader? Luckily the tattoo is finished and it's another to add to readers collection that hides underneath her clothes? Thank you!!!

Hehehehehe I loveeeee. Thank you for the request and I hope it’s what you were looking for ✊🏽😌

Spencer stared at the DVD you’d tossed onto his desk, his mind still catching up to your words. "You. Me. My place tonight." It was so direct, so casual, yet it made his heart race a little faster.

Morgan’s voice cut through his thoughts, his teasing tone unmistakable. "Oooh, pretty boy’s got a date," he teased as he walked by, giving Spencer a playful nudge.

Spencer’s face flushed a light shade of pink, and he stammered, "It’s not—it’s just a movie night."

But Morgan was already grinning and heading off, leaving Spencer to fumble with the DVD case. "What’s this?" he asked, trying to focus on anything other than the heat in his cheeks.

You leaned in closer, your excitement practically radiating off you. "Remember that old ‘90s movie I was telling you about? The one that tells a story about everything but nothing at all?"

Spencer nodded. "Yes, I do."

Your face lit up with a smile. "Well, it wasn’t streaming anywhere, but I found it on eBay!" You practically sang out the words, clearly pleased with yourself. "So bring the popcorn, since someone ate all of it last ti—"

"Hey!" Spencer interrupted, but there was no real protest in his voice, just a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"And be at my place by 5:30!" you finished, pointing at him for emphasis before turning to leave. “I want to watch the sequel tonight too!”

Spencer watched you walk away, the excitement in your voice still echoing in his ears. He looked down at the DVD again, a small smile spreading across his face. He couldn’t help but feel a little flutter of anticipation for the evening ahead.

He picked up the DVD, turning it over in his hands as he replayed your words in his mind. You. Me. My place tonight. It wasn’t a date… but part of him couldn’t help but wish it were.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer stood up, already planning the evening in his head. Popcorn, maybe some candy, and definitely trying not to overthink everything.

Spencer stood outside your apartment door, the DVDs in one hand and a bag of popcorn in the other. He’d been to your place countless times, yet tonight felt different. There was an odd sense of anticipation mixed with a touch of nervousness that made him feel slightly out of place, as if he were stepping into unfamiliar territory despite the well-worn path.

He could hear laughter from inside, your voice mingling with someone else’s. His heart clenched, and he took a deep breath, trying to remind himself that he was just here for movie night. But then came the buzzing—an unmistakable sound that started and stopped intermittently, accompanied by more laughter. Spencer froze, his mind spiraling into overdrive.

What was going on? His thoughts were clouded with uncertainty, each second stretching longer than the last. The buzzing continued, filling his head with doubts. For a moment, he wondered if he should even be here, if maybe he was intruding on something he wasn’t meant to witness.

Summoning his courage, Spencer raised his hand and knocked on the door. The sound echoed in the hallway, and he immediately regretted it. Maybe he should just walk away. Pretend he forgot something at the office and come back later. But before he could act on the impulse, the door swung open.

Spencer was met with the sight of Mark, your friend, standing in the doorway with a little tattoo machine in his gloved hand. The buzzing had stopped, and Mark's expression shifted from confusion to recognition.

"Hey, Spencer!" Mark greeted him with a friendly smile, stepping aside to let him in.

Spencer blinked, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Oh… hey, Mark. I, uh, didn’t realize you were here."

Mark chuckled, catching the hint of relief in Spencer’s voice. "Yeah, just finishing up a little work. Come on in. We’re just about done."

Spencer stepped inside, glancing around your apartment. It looked the same as always—cozy and welcoming—but the air felt different tonight. He finally spotted you sitting on the couch, your shirt rolled up on one side. “Sorry. Am I early?” He glanced at his watch.

You looked up with a smile when you saw him. "Hey, Spence! You’re right on time." You shifted a little bit. “Mark came to drop off some of the pans he borrowed and offered to do this. Whaddaya think?”

Spencer’s earlier nerves evaporated, replaced by curiosity. He set the popcorn and DVDs down on the coffee table, his eyes still drawn to the new tattoo. "Wow," he murmured, taking a step closer. "That’s… really beautiful."

You grinned, rolling your shirt back down as Mark began packing up his gear. "Thanks. I’ve been wanting to get it for a while now."

Mark finished packing up, giving you a thumbs up. "You’re all set, and it looks great. Just remember to take care of it, as usual."

You nodded. "Will do. Thanks, Mark."

Mark patted Spencer on the shoulder as he headed toward the door. "You two have fun tonight. See you around."

As the door closed behind him, a comfortable silence settled over the room. Spencer felt a bit silly for his earlier worries. He sat down beside you on the couch, still thinking about the tattoo.

"So, a raven, huh?" he asked, unable to keep the admiration out of his voice.

You nodded, pulling your shirt down to better cover the tattoo now that Mark was gone. "Yeah. It’s something that’s always resonated with me—freedom, intelligence, and a bit of mystery."

Spencer’s lips curled into a small smile. "It suits you."

You smiled back, a little shyly. "I’m glad you think so. It’s kind of my secret—most of my tattoos are hidden, you know?"

Spencer nodded, still feeling that flutter in his chest. He’d known you had tattoos, but the thought of them hidden beneath your clothes, little pieces of art only you and a select few knew about, made him feel like he was glimpsing something personal, something intimate. You’d shown him a few during these movie nights.

“Well," you said, breaking the silence with a playful tone, "now that the tattoo’s done, how about that movie? Which one are we starting with?"

Spencer shook himself out of his thoughts, smiling as he handed you the DVDs. "Your choice. I’m just glad I’m here."

You shot him a warm look, one that made his heart skip a beat. "Me too, Spence. Now let’s get this movie night started."

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reidx reader #spencer reid fluff #fanfic #spencer reid x you #annie cant stop talking #request

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yourfavbunni · 10 months

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Satoru x Reader (female coded)

Synopsis: Angst? Fluff? I don’t know!!

A/N: I’m disappointed with the bottom half of this 🙂 but enjoy!

As the exhaustion and pent-up frustration continued to weigh heavily on Satoru, his emotions began to spiral out of control. The stress from his missions, combined with his own self-inflicted pressure, pushed him over the edge. In a moment of weakness, he lashed out at you, his frustrations finding an unfortunate target.

His voice was filled with anger and frustration, and Satoru’s words cut through the air like a blade. "Why can't you just understand that I need some fucking space? Is that too much to ask for?"

"All you do is cling to me! "You suffocate me!" "Leave me alone for once!"

His outburst left you stunned and hurt. Tears welled up in your eyes as you silently gathered your belongings, as you had planned to stay the night with him. Without a word, you left the apartment, the door closing behind you.

It didn't take long for Satoru to realize he had messed up. The weight of his words settled on his shoulders, and he felt an overwhelming sense of guilt wash over him. He knew he had messed up, and he knew he had hurt you.

Frantically, Satoru ran out of the apartment complex; he looked for you.

He retraced his steps, hoping to find any sign of you. His eyes scanned the empty streets, searching for any indication that you were still there and that you hadn't completely given up on him.

As he stood alone in the silence, Satoru felt a heavy ache in his chest. He knew he had to find you to make things right. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, not after everything you had been through together.

Satoru’s heart pounded in his chest as he raced through the streets, his mind filled with regret and desperation. Every passing second without finding you felt like an eternity, intensifying the ache in his chest. He couldn't let you slip away, not like this.

Finally, he caught sight of you, standing at the edge of a park, your shoulders hunched and tears streaming down your face. He approached you cautiously, his voice filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean those things I said. I was just... overwhelmed. Please, let me explain."

You turned to face him, your eyes red and puffy, a mix of anger and hurt evident on your face. His heart sank at the sight, realizing the extent of the pain you had caused. "I get it…don’t bother…I’ll just go. Isn’t that what you want? For me to leave you alone"?

He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands, his touch warm and tender. "Baby. Fuck no. I don’t want that; you’re not clingy. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it."

You stared into his eyes, searching for sincerity and any sign that he truly meant his words. Slowly, you nodded, a flicker of hope stirring within you. "No more pushing me away; no more hurtful words."

He nodded, "I promise, baby."

And with that, Satoru pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

A few days had passed since the whole incident; everything had gone back to normal, at least on Satoru’s side, but you still felt like he had meant it when he called you suffocating, even with his constant reminders of love.

You did the opposite of what you told him to not do anymore. You started being less touchy with him. Maybe he was right; you were a touchy person.

A conversation between two of your co-workers made your feelings even worse when they began talking about how guys didn’t like clingy girls.

(They don’t know what they are talking about, 🙄but for the sake of the story, let’s go with it.)

You gave him space; before when he would come home from work, he would watch a movie, and you would be cuddled right up against him.

You would shower him with kisses and play with his soft, white hair. But you didn’t do any of those things anymore.

Satoru had noticed your behavior, and he had tried talking to you about it, but you denied it and lied, saying you were just super busy with your job. He knew something was up, but he didn’t want to push you into admitting something you weren’t ready to.

The thought that you were too clingy, that you had been suffocating him, gnawed at your mind. It was hard to ignore the self-doubt that crept in, questioning whether you were enough for him.

Finally, you decided to have an open and honest conversation with Satoru. You couldn't let these doubts fester any longer. You couldn’t wait for him to get home, so you decided to go see him at work, finding him in his office.

"Satoru, we need to talk," you said, your voice firm but tinged with vulnerability. He turned to look at you, his eyes filled with concern. "What's on your mind, baby?" He asked, his voice softening as he noticed the seriousness in your expression.

"I've been thinking about what you said, about me being clingy," you began, your voice steady. "Y/N," he cut you off. "I didn’t mean those things." "Just let me finish", you said. "It's been eating away at me. I need to know if you truly feel that way about me, or if it really was just a moment of frustration."

Satoru’s eyes widened, a mix of surprise and regret crossing his face. He reached out to grasp your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "Baby, I never meant to make you doubt yourself. I was just caught up in the moment, and I lashed out without thinking. You're not clingy, not at all. In fact, you bring so much happiness into my life."

His words washed over you, soothing the doubts that had plagued your thoughts. You could see the sincerity in his eyes and the genuine love and adoration he held for you.

"I'm sorry for making you feel that way, baby," he continued, his voice filled with remorse. "You're everything to me, and I never want you to doubt that again".

He got up from his chair, moved around his desk, and reached you. He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. "If anything, I’m the clingy one, Y/N."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with affection. The warmth of his body presses against yours, enveloping you in a comforting embrace.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, baby." He murmured against your lips, his voice filled with genuine regret. "You're not suffocating me. I crave your touch, your love, and your presence. You're the one who fills my world with joy and excitement."

He trails soft kisses along your jawline, his lips lingering against the sensitive skin. "I love how you shower me with affection and how you make me feel wanted and desired. Don't ever doubt that, Y/N."

His hands roamed over your body, exploring the curves that he’d come to know so well. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

"I'm the one who needs you, baby." He whispers, his voice laced with sincerity. "I don't ever want you to change. You're perfect just the way you are, and I'll always be here to remind you of that."

His fingers tangled in your hair, gently pulling you closer and deepening the connection between you.

As we break apart, a soft smile graces my lips. "No more doubts, Y/N. From now on, I'll make sure you know just how much I love and treasure you. You're not clingy; you're my everything. Let me show you how much I love you."

He presses you against the desk, letting the smooth wood cool against your back. With a confident yet gentle grip, he trails his fingers up your thighs, teasingly inching closer to your core. His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine.

He dipped his head down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Tongues exploring each other's mouths with fervor and desire. The taste of you is intoxicating, and he can't get enough.

His hand slips beneath your skirt. He feels the heat radiating from between your legs, aching to be touched. With a teasing smile, With a swift movement, he pushes your panties aside. He dips his fingers into your wetness, relishing the way you gasp and arch your back in response.

He continues to stimulate you with his skilled fingers, his thumb finding your sensitive clit. Each stroke and caress is deliberate; he can feel your walls tightening around his fingers and your moans filling the room as your pleasure builds.

But just as you're on the edge of release, he pulls away, a devilish grin on my face. "Not yet, baby," he whispers. "I want to savor every moment with you."

He guided you to stand, turning you around to face the desk.

Bending you over he buries himself deep inside you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming; the tightness and heat of your core filling him in pure pleasure.

His hips start to move in a steady rhythm, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. The sound of your bodies colliding echoes through the room, moans and gasps filling the office room.

He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear, as he whispered, "You feel so fucking good, baby. I can't get enough of you." His hands roam over your back, leaving trails of tingling pleasure in their wake.

As the pace quickens, the intensity builds, aching to consume both of you. The pleasure becomes almost unbearable, pushing us to the brink of release. And when it finally crashes over us, it's like an explosion of pure bliss—waves of pleasure cascading through your bodies.

He holds you close, his body still connected to yours, as you ride out the waves of orgasm together. Your breathing gradually slows, and he presses a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck.

He pulls you into a tender embrace. "Y/N," he whispers, his voice filled with genuine adoration. "I love you so much".

#jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #gojo angst #gojo fluff #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo #jjk satoru #satoru smut

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jarofstyles · 2 years

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Teacher’s Pet III

A/N: the moment you have been waiting for is here. a fan favorite has made a return. It’s been a year? maybe more? I hope it was worth the wait!! planning a part 4 finale for this, promise it will not take a year this time hehe - n + d

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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warning: smut, daddy kink, overstimulation

word count: 3.9k

Harry was hooked, effectively fucked.

He was spending a ridiculous amount on her streams and paying extra for sessions to speak to her. He couldn’t get enough, not when he knew he could have her so easily. Oddly enough, she had began to text him outside of the hours allotted and he didn’t mind at all. She was quite bright.

Was it wrong of him to do this? To take on the fact that his student was doing wonderful sex work and then help her tutor every week? Yeah. Probably. But no one had quite gotten him off like she had. She was so needy and so willing to give in to him, the pleading tone of her voice making his cock grow heavy with need. Y/N was able to so easy give up all her inhibitions and connect– and that was truly something he hadn’t experienced before. His ego grew every time she sent him a message, especially when he knew he’d been the object of her affection. She was in class when it happened the first time. His phone buzzed in his pocket, only for him to check when the movie had started that she had texted him she was wet. His spirit became brighter after that day.

When she had texted him a simple hello? He responded promptly. It was a Tuesday night, nothing special.

‘Hello, princess. May I help you?’ He responded.

Was it wrong for her to pay special attention to a guy from her streams? He was paying her for every conversation, sitting in on every stream. God, how did he even have the money to stay for as long as he did? She truly didn’t know, but it was hot. Really hot.

His body was stuck in her mind, every time she got off she thought about him and him making a total and complete mess of her. It excited her, his words edging her on. Of course, she was a sucker for whatever he gave her... she desperately wanted to hear him too. She had heard his moans, but she wanted to hear more.

Y/N was definitely buttering him up, texting him whenever she felt like it had been a few days and she felt like she could. They were forming quite the friendship. She hated to think that the reason she got so wet over this daddyh character was because he in a way reminded her of her professor.

‘yes please 🥺’

‘Sorry if this is a lot but I’m feeling really needy today’

Y/N had to meet with her professor tomorrow and she was desperate for some relief so she wouldn’t accidentally do something when he tutored her tomorrow. She just wanted to live in that little fantasy while she could.

‘That’s perfectly fine, sweetheart.’

‘Actually, it does please me quite a bit to know I’m the one you’re coming to.’

He had double texted and felt his stomach warm at the fact that she had chosen him. She had decided that he was the one she wanted to talk to while she was being needy, that she was in need and want to speak to. Their conversations weren’t always sexual— they’d spoken about a plethora of things. But there was always that... tension. And more often than not, she would hint that she was all alone in bed and it would spiral at that.

‘What can I do for you, baby? How can I help...’

He was wanting so badly to know how he could help her. If she wanted just more attention, or if she wanted something else. Money, too. He would give her anything she desired.

Y/N felt her stomach warm up, genuinely pleased at the fact that he was more than happy with her sending him messages like this. She didn’t want to seem clingy or like she was trying to get money from him, she genuinely enjoyed talking to him and he was a very good and loyal viewer of hers so why not.

‘awe good 🥰’

‘I’m happy to hear that’

Not only was he good at keeping conversation but he had proven time and time again that he was caring and it made her heart swell. Y/N wasn’t one to fall for people just like that, but he was slowly ticking off her boxes and she was so so needy for something to get her mind off of her professor. When he asked what he could do for her? She decided to be a little bold.

‘I was thinking maybe we could do a call?’

‘Free of charge of course! Really, I just thought it would be nice to actually get to talk to you and stuff :)’

Harry didn’t see an issue. Voices over the phone sounded distorted and if he spoke lowly in his throat, then he didn’t see the problem. Especially because he really, really would like it.

He decided to call instead of responding. Maybe he was a bit bold in that, but it didn’t matter. He was more than happy to speak to her and wanted to hear her voice in real time. He was praying that she was going to use that cute voice she did when she spoke to his username on the live stream.

“Hello, love.” He said when she answered. His voice was more gravelly and deeper, laying back on his bed. “Why are you feelin’ needy?”

“Hiii” A whine left from her lips once she heard him speak. “You didn’t tell me you had an accent....” Y/N was a pool in her panties. His voice was so deep and low, her pussy was already throbbing. “Daddy, you.... I love your voice.” She said shyly, feeling like he was really just her wet dream.

“I had an okay day today, I was studying and stuff but I just get really frustrated sometimes... my professor is really nice about it though.” Y/N’s Professor also happened to be British so this wasn’t making things any easier on her.

It was insane to hear her arousal. She had whined at his voice. He loved how she said Daddy so naturally, so eager to talk to him. The way she brought him up too— he was curious.

“M’sorry I didn’t, sweet girl. I forget I have an accent.” He wasn’t lying either— he really did forget often that he had an accent and that it was different than hers. Lack is awareness maybe. He’d been living in the states for a while now.

“Thank you for the compliment. And I understand being frustrating, studying must be hard. But you’re such a good girl for doing it anyway.” He was taunting a little bit, slipping the good girl in there without a second thought. “I’m also glad to hear your professor is nice. Good teachers are always an asset to the learning of students.” He murmured, stretching out on the bed. He could hear shuffling on the other side and chuckled.

Y/N was lapping this up. She swore hearing him just like that wasn’t enough, she wished she put on headphones so she could hear him as if he was right there with her but this would do. Instead, she decided to put him on speaker stripping out of the clothes she had left so she could just be naked.

“Y’alright? Moving quite a bit over there.”

“Yeah— sorry, I just got really hot so I took of my shirt.” Y/N told him, “We don’t have to do stuff right now either, I just wanted to talk to you and hear your voice.” She felt the warmth in her cheeks rising like crazy, knowing that maybe it was a bit much to say to someone who was merely a supporter of hers but she meant it.

“How was your day? What did you do?” Y/N wanted to know. She could just listen to his voice and touch herself and he wouldn’t know, gently caressing her breasts and hips and ass. Y/N was tough starved, hungry for it. Quite desperate too.

“Hm... well; I ate a good breakfast. Went to work, stayed a bit longer than normal. It was a fairly normal day, I suppose. Had some food and came home.” He was talking to a shirtless Y/N on the phone and he knew damn well there wasn’t anything innocent going on in her mind.

“Tell me why you feel so needy.” He questioned. “S’it something you feel often? Or is it a new thing?” Harry wanted to be the one she was needy for. It seemed like he was though; just by how often they communicated and how sweet she was to him. Both at classes and over the phone.

Y/N hummed at his answer, closing her eyes and fully letting herself sink into that deep throaty tone that he had. He sounded so damn sexy she felt like she could cum just listening to him talk about anything. “I’m glad you had a good day.” She cooed, letting out a sigh without realizing it.

“Yeah... pretty often..” Y/N spoke and then thought about how to word this properly. “You know how I said I had a really nice professor?... He reminds me of you...” She explained, hoping that it didn’t make him feel weird. He did say he liked it when she wore the school girl outfit the other day on live so maybe it was a kink of his too? “Then I just think about you and I get so wet and I don’t want to be a bother... but thinking about you always makes me feel so good and I wish you could be here helping me...” Y/N’s tone was breathy as she started to play with her clit.

“Oh, baby. I already know that you’ve been touching at yourself this whole time.” He smirked to himself, hand holding his length in his briefs. God, she was perfection. “Get wet thinking about getting fucked by a professor, hm? You’re quite the naughty girl. Know that you get extra slick in your videos whenever I say something like that.” Oh, he noticed. “Wear that tiny little skirt in the uniform, I love it. I very much wish I was there to help you. I know that your little clit is probably all swollen. Probably feels really good to touch, yeah?”

Y/N let out another audible whine, hearing him talk dirty the way he texted? It was a whole different level of arousal she couldn’t even begin to explain how her body felt. She wanted more, she needed more. “I’m sorry, daddy, I can’t help it... you just sounds so good, it makes my pussy ache... I want more! Please let me touch more, please!”

“Fuck me... it aches, does it princess? M’sorry I’m not there to fix it.” He cooed, cock jumping at the thought. He was fucking aroused, wanting her cunt so badly he could punch something. His briefs were thrown to the side, Harry spitting thickly into his palm before wrapping it around his cock, stroking slowly.

Of course if he was going to pull her kinks out she would use his against him. It would only make him get a bit more heated, make his voice that much darker and deeper. “It feels so nice to touch...” Y/N let out another whimper like moan. “Are you touching yourself too daddy? Did I get your cock swelling for me?”

“Mm. Course I am, you always get me hot. You’re just... so fucking dirty. But you keep it relatively tame on your lives.” He muttered. “Know there’s a dirtier girl. Filthy. The way you talk to just me... know it.” He bit down on his lip at her next phrase, hearing her impatience and need for his touch and cock. That’s what made him feel even better.

She felt her breathing pick up, deciding she wanted to get her vibrator out because she knew she could tease herself and make this last much longer than she could with just her fingers.

“All I want is to be stuffed full of your cock!”

“You’re so impatient, princess. Already touching all over your parts and begging for cock. Can’t help yourself.”

“Please daddy...” Y/N whimpered, bucking her hips up against her vibrator, having it set on the lowest setting but it was already doing a lot. “Want to feel you— fuck.. feel you stretch me out.” She was teasing her entrance, he had gifted her a dildo and sent it to her PO Box. It was the only one she used now.

“I want photos.” He snapped at her. “Sitting there wasting such a nice sight, not letting Daddy see? That isn’t what I want.” He could hear her. “Your little cunt is soaked and I can hear it. What are you using, hm? Your fingers? A nice toy? Let me see.” He was demanding photos and maybe that was out of line but he knew she liked being bossed around in bed and would love to please him.

Y/N swore he brought the filth out of her. She knew she could be dirtier than most on her streams but with him she turned into a proper animal. It was mostly because he called to everything she wanted when it came to a sexual partner, fulfilled her fantasies.

“Told you I was needy, Daddy!” Y/N whined, “want you to come here and fuck me, make me scream— Ah! Mmm, make me beg and cry for your to let me cum. Want you to force it out of me, over and over! Want you to use me..”

“So what you’re saying... you want to be daddy’s little fuckdoll?” He murmured darkly. “Want me to take what I want from you and make your pussy cum over and over until you’re a drooling mess?” He rubbed his thumb over the tip of his cock. “Are you being a good little slut and taking photos for daddy? I want to see your pussy spread open.”

Y/N let out a whine, knowing that she would have to stop what she was doing just to take pictures and she was wondering if maybe turning on her camera would be better. She set up her phone, the way she usually did if she was doing these sessions to take photos and turned her video on so he could see.

“Look daddy..” Y/N whimpered, knowing she wouldn’t be able to see him but that was fine. As long as she could hear him, that’s all that matters. She sat back with her back against her pillows, spreading her legs and showing him what was going on.

His own private show. It was all for him after all. Y/N giggled a little bit when she heard his reaction, setting the dildo that he bought her in front of the camera before leaning down and starting to suck in it as if it were his cock, looking up at the camera.

“Fuck, baby. That’s my little slut.” He growled, watching her give him the best gift. She was shameless and he loved for it. The way she just simply gave him everything, spread legs and looking right at the cane for him... he was incredibly turned on.

“Suck that cock. S’what your mouth is made for, isn’t it? To suck your daddy off, make me cum in your slutty mouth.” He was so aroused, watching her take it deeper into her throat. It was torture that she wasn’t really sucking him. “Your little pussy aches so badly all the time, doesn’t it? S’cause you were meant to be stuff full of my cock all the damn time. Spread your legs a bit more for me, baby. That’s what I want.” He was stroking himself steadily, spitting on the hand every so often.

Y/N smiled when she pulled off of the cock, slapping it on her flat tongue a bit before pulling back and spreading her legs for him the way he had asked. Being a cam girl really came in handy, she really knew all the right angles and knew just what to say. She was horny too, hearing him praise and humiliate her all at once. It was the perfect mixture of what she loved.

“Daddy... did you buy me this cause it’s big like you?” She asked curiously, bringing the dildo up to her mouth once more so she could lick up the base of it. Y/N watched the camera curiously, knowing she wouldn’t see his face, but knowing he could get the pleasure in knowing she was looking right at him. Her hands moved to bring the dildo to her core again, starting to push it into her slowly but surely. Her head fell back as she moaned in excitement, “Wish it was you! Fuck! Daddy!” Y/N was a whining mess, grabbing at her breasts to ease some tension.

“Mm. I’m a little bigger than that.” He wasn’t lying either. But he was too focused on the view he had. “Fuck me, look at it stretch your open. Got such a tiny cunt, swollen and pink. You use it so much, get yourself to cum so many times. Have all those filthy fucking perverts watching your sweet little body. Wishing they could have a taste. Like a little tempting candy.” He watched her slide it in and out of her pussy.

“Push it all the way in. That’s it. All the way.” He instructed. Her mouth fell open as she struggled a little to take it but he watched it settle in all the way. “Press on your tummy. You feel that? Feel how full you are? S’what I could do for you. Make you even more full than that.” He admitted.

“Of course you wish it was me. You want a hand on your throat and fingers in your mouth. You want to be held down and used like the precious little cunt you are.”

Y/N was close to throwing a tantrum. She wanted it! She wanted him. Every little push of the dildo inside of her was sending her, the combination of his voice and just how deep it was inside her? Y/N swore she was ready to risk it all. If she didn’t know any better she would give him her address and tell him to come over now but she wasn’t that stupid. She didn’t really know him as much as she thought she might have.

“Daddy!” Y/N whimpered, taking a sharp harsh breath. “It’s so deep...” Her voice was quiet as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, thinking about the scenario he had just told her about. She shuddered in response, letting out another loud whine before starting to thrust it in and out of her at a rapid pace. “I want it to be you...” Y/N moaned out, “please— I want it to be you, please.” She was wondering where he was from in that moment, if it would be easy for him to get here. She couldn’t stop thinking about his body, now she had a voice to match it. Y/N just knew he had to be attractive.

“I love hearing you beg. You’re filthy. I love that shit, you know that princess? I love hearing you beg for my cock. I’m just watching you fuck yourself and thinking about it being me... you’re going crazy.” He chuckled. “Fuck, you’re so wet too. Christ sake, you messy bitch. Look at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. Look at the little puddle.” He grit his teeth.

“Want that on my sheets. If I was there I would shove that pretty face in that stain and fuck your cunt open. Keep it held down there. Maybe I’d make you lick it up too. Depends how mean m’feeling.” His pace of his hand quickened.

Y/N couldn’t believe the words that were coming from his mouth. She wanted it to be real, the whine that left her mouth was primal. She was so so close and his words only edged her on, Y/N couldn’t formulate words she was just babbling at this point and she didn’t care.

“Daddyiwan— oh mhm, fuck!” A high pitched squeal hit when she added the vibrator back into the mix. Within seconds she was properly dripping on the bed, her thighs and ass slick and glistening from the light she had in her room. It didn’t much longer for her to cum. Her body shaking at the release, she screamed out for him, resisting the urge to call him by Professor Styles’ name. All she could picture was his face on this man’s body. Y/N was shaking and squealing as she left the vibrator on her sensitive clit, visibly clenching around the fake cock that was inside of her.

“Please, please, please, please!” She was begging, but she wasn't sure what for. Her body felt hot, muscles tensing at the delicious feeling.

“Don’t move it, princess.” Harry hummed, “You can give me another won’t you?” He was close to his on release, prepared to milk his cock entirely for her. Every shaky breath and plead that came from her only pushed him closer and closer to the edge. “So good baby, give me another one, I know you want to…”

"Fuck!” Y/N squeaked, the sensitivity made her legs twitch. It hurt so good, the feeling was like a drug to her. Every pulse of the vibrator against her clit had her mewling, heat spreading throughout her body in waves, her breathing becoming heavy once again.

“That’s it… just like that, cream all over that cock like you would mine.” Harry spoke through his clenched teeth. She was utterly perfect, he couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. Y/N had been doing this all for him, of course she didn’t know it was him, but it was him none the less. The eyes they gave each other during class, the teasing during her streams, Harry wanted to feel her in the flesh. He imagined his hands all over her, coaxing more and more orgasms out of her with both his hands and the toys. For now this would do, watching her body begin to thrash due to the force behind the orgasm.

“You look beautiful…” Harry thought out loud, seconds before he himself felt his orgasm ripping through him. The sound of low groans and the slick of his hand against his cock filled the room, his eyes never leaving her body on the screen. So sweet and laid out for him on her bed, how he wished he could be there to lap up every bit of cum she had given him.

“Did so good for me, bunny.” He hummed, swallowing thickly as he started coming to his senses again. He cleared his throat and watched as she beamed, sitting up to grab the phone from its spot. How on earth was he ever going to let her go knowing she was so close to him?

“Go take a shower and rest up for me, yeah? I’ll see you tomorrow.” He spoke without a second thought about their class tomorrow. Surely, that wouldn’t be where her mind went.

But it did.

#harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #professor!harry #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurbs #harry styles series #jarofstyles

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peachy-panic · 7 months

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Companion, pt. 1

New Do No Harm content? In the current timeline? In 2024 the year of our lord? Could it be?

Here's part 1 of a couple-part saga in the Sebastian contract, which I lightly foreshadowed here.

WARNINGS: Not much outside the usual BBU tag and the uncomfortable power dynamics that come with it.

The house is warm when Sebastian gets home, in every sense of the word. A candle flickers an inviting glow on the coffee table, and the smell of garlic and onions rushes to greet him. As expected, he finds Jaime posted in the kitchen, tending to his latest creation on the stovetop. On the small bluetooth radio beside the toaster, a song he doesn’t recognize is playing.

It’s taking some time for Sebastian to get used to coming home to someone. For so long, for most of this adult life, it has been dark, empty apartments or cold, distant roommates, never allowed past arm’s length. And now, there’s Jaime, who has entered his life like a bullet and smiles over his shoulder when Sebastian walks into the room.

He is getting better these days at reading his smiles, and this one, at least, appears to be genuine. Relieved, almost, that he is home.

“Hi,” Jaime says first.

“Hello,” Sebastian echoes, dropping his coat over the back of a barstool. “What are we making?”

“It’s an Ezra recipe,” Jaime says, wiping his palms on his pants. “Is soup okay tonight? If that’s not substantial enough, I am happy to make something else with it.”

Sebastian does not let his smile drop or fade, no matter how desperately uncertain Jaime sounds. “Soup sounds great, Jaime. It smells amazing.”

It’s the truth, too. It’s a difficult balance, wanting to compliment his prowess in the kitchen and appreciate the genuine joy he seems to derive from it, while also trying not to think of the how and why. Sebastian doesn’t know much about what “training” looks like inside the facility, especially for the specialized domestic tasks that would have been assigned to Jaime, and he doesn’t particularly like speculating on the details. From everything he’s seen in the clinic, he knows that none of it is pleasant.

“How was work?’ Jaime asks, then seems to catch himself. He stiffens, looking sheepishly away. “Sorry. You probably aren’t allowed to talk about that.”

Sebastian snorts. “If only doctor-patient confidentiality applied in a place like that.” The words come out before he can consider the significance they carry to the person he’s speaking to. Guilt spikes sharp in his chest. “Sorry, that wasn’t…”

“It’s okay.” Jaime smiles, but it’s a tense, brittle line.

“Um.” Sebastian clears his throat, trying to get their conversation back on the rails before he ruins the evening completely. “My day was okay. It was fine.” He shakes his head, pressing his fingers briefly to his eyes. “That was a lie. It was terrible, as usual. I don’t think I need to convince you that having a good day in that building would be a poor reflection of one’s character.”

So much for salvaging the conversation, Tate.

“Anyway, how was your day?”

Jaime pulls the hand towel down from his shoulder and begins wiping at an invisible spot on the counter. “It was fine, thank you.”

Sebastian watches him, trying hard not to scrutinize the pre-packaged reply. His answer is always something of the same tune when Sebastian inquires about his day, never anything less than “fine,” never forthcoming on the details. It’s not the first time it’s sent Sebastian into a bit of a spiral about a concern he’s had from the very beginning: how does Jaime spend his days? Is he happy here? Has Sebastian provided him with enough resources to carve out some semblance of a life here?

He has tried. He has provided him access to the internet and all the movies streaming had to offer, he bought Jaime a reading tablet and granted blanket permission to fill it with as many books as he wants, he has given enthusiastic encouragement for Jaime to go for runs or walks whenever he’d like. It doesn’t feel like enough. He still ends up spending his long days at work wondering if Jaime is at home feeling like a prisoner.

Sebastian pushes the thought away for now.

“Is there anything I can help with?” He asks.

“It’s almost done, actually.” Jaime taps the excess liquid from the wood spoon and lays it on a ceramic dish. “Just needs a few more minutes to simmer. Sorry, I hoped it would be ready by the time you got home.”

Sebastian gives him a look. “You don’t have to cook at all,” he says. “Let alone have it hot and waiting at the table. You’re aware of my microwave burrito phase? My standards are low.”

“I remember.” Jaime assures him. “I don’t mind, though. I like trying new recipes. Ezra lent me a cookbook. I tabbed a few that look interesting. If they look good to you, that is.”

“You have yet to steer me wrong. I’m starting to think it’s impossible for you to cook anything less than a masterpiece.”

The slight stutter in Jaime’s stirring is quick enough that Sebastian can brush it off as his imagination.

“It passes the time,” Jaime says, a bit quieter.

“What?”

“Cooking. Planning the meals, ordering the ingredients. Prep and cook time,” he elaborates. “It’s productive, is all I mean.” Jaime has gone tense, the way he does when he seems to say more than he means to, but he recovers quickly.

The soup is ready shortly after, and dinner is delicious as always, but Sebastian can’t get out of his own head enough to really enjoy it. Jaime’s words—it passes the time—bounce around inside his skull, breaking open all sorts of subtext and confirming all of Sebastian’s fears.

They’re cleaning up afterward, Sebastian scrubbing the dishes while Jaime dries, when a thought that’s been brewing spills out of his mouth.

“Have you ever had any pets?” Sebastian asks, apropos of absolutely nothing. Jaime shoots him a quick side glance without pausing in his work.

“Once,” he says after a beat.

Sebastian knows it’s tricky ground, getting too close to details from Jaime’s past. He knows the rules he is bound by and how closely Jaime tries to follow them, even if sometimes Sebastian thinks he might be getting more and more comfortable with little rebellions. Sebastian is still riding the high from a couple weeks prior when Jaime had gifted him and Ezra the small nugget of truth that he used to play soccer, in his life before the system. What might have been an insignificant detail to anyone else was such a fragile, entrusted thing.

Sebastian doesn’t want to pry, though. He decides to keep his questions more general.

“Do you like animals?”

“Yes.” That answer comes much quicker.

“Would you…” Sebastian pauses, making sure he’s positive about the proposition he is making before he makes it. He is. “Tell me honestly if this isn’t something you’re interested in, and I won’t be offended in the slightest. I was wondering… if that might be something you would be interested in. Having a pet here.”

Jaime takes a minute to answer, like he’s choosing each word carefully. “Would it be solely for my benefit?”

“No,” Sebastian assures him, and it’s not a lie. “It’s something I’ve thought about before, but I don’t have a lot of experience with pets. Zero, to be exact, unless you count a goldfish that lived for under a week when I was seven.” He pauses. “I do worry about you getting lonely, though. Staying here by yourself all the time.”

“I don’t mind being alone.”

“I know. I just wonder if it might be nice to have some company. Something to look after.” Something to bring you comfort. Anything to make you happy here.

A quiet falls over them, interspersed with the sound of running water and dishes clanking around in the sink, and Sebastian starts to think of how to walk this back. Because clearly this is something that gives Jaime pause.

“What about…” Jaime starts, then stops. Sebastian puts down the dish he is working on and looks at him. Jaime meets his eyes for a split second and then averts them again. “Would you keep it, even after I’m gone?”

And shit. Maybe it’s a good thing he put the cup down in the sink, because Sebastian is pretty sure it would have shattered in his hand from the force of his grip. And he realizes, not for the first time, that the longevity of this… arrangement is something they need to talk about. In detail. At length. Soon. But now doesn’t seem like the right time.

“If I brought a living creature into my home,” he starts carefully, “then this would become its home, too. It will be here for the long haul.”

After a long, weighty silence, he sees Jaime nod in his periphery.

“I think I’d like that.”

****

@whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump @nicolepascaline @anotherbluntpencil @hold-him-down @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @batfacedliar-yetagain @thecyrulik @pumpkin-spice-whump @finder-of-rings @melancholy-in-the-morning @insaneinthepaingame @skyhawkwolf @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @mylifeisonthebookshelf @dont-touch-my-soup @whump-world @inpainandsuffering @cicatrix-energy @quietly-by-myself @whumpsday @extemporary-whump @the-whumpers-grimm @thebirdsofgay @firewheeesky @whumperfully @hold-back-on-the-comfort @termsnconditions-apply @cyborg0109 @whumplr-reader @pinkraindropsfell @whatwhumpcomments @honeycollectswhump @pirefyrelight @handsinmotion @alexmundaythrufriday @scoundrelwithboba

#do no harm: jaime & sebastian #whump #whumplr #whump writing #bbu #like bbu adjacent?

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polkadotpenguin16 · 10 days

Text

The Five Stages of Grief: Depression

A/N: Thank you to everyone for your patience in waiting for me to finish this chapter! Getting myself to write has felt like pulling teeth as of late. But we’re here! And we’re almost done!! Let’s get angsty…

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Tags: you read the title, right?

Word count: 2,410

Previous parts: Prologue | Denial | Anger | Bargaining

Also posted on AO3.

You and your friend were lounging on the couch, devouring a carton of chocolate chip mint ice cream, while watching what felt like an endless Lord of the Rings marathon. “I don’t remember this being so long,” you mused as you licked chocolate bits off your fingers.

“That’s cuz it’s the extended edition,” she replied with her mouth full of ice cream. “It’s the only way to watch it. You want to feel like you’re walking to Mordor in real-time.”

You smirked and shook your head at her logic. This was nice. Getting lost in Middle Earth was a welcomed distraction from inner turmoil.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Your friend shifted herself on the couch to look at you. “When are we gonna get your stuff?”

You looked at her confused. “My stuff?”

“Yeah, from your apartment? You can stay as long as you like. Just wanna know if we need to rent a truck or something.”

“Um…” You hadn’t thought about what exactly your next steps were. If you and Sonny were over, that meant moving out of the apartment. It meant packing up the pieces of your old life, the one you’d built with Sonny, and moving on. And that was terrifying.

“Hey, hey, no pressure here!” She reassured you as she saw the panicked look on your face. “We don’t need to plan anything tonight. Let’s just watch the movie. I think Aragorn is gonna do something badass in a minute, anyway.”

It was late when you finished all the movies. Your friend went to bed, but you couldn’t sleep. The gravity of your situation was weighing heavily on your chest. It was truly over. You believed only a day ago that this was what you wanted.

This was what was best for you and Sonny.

You had thought you would both move on to better things—people better suited for each other. And Sonny probably would. But you realized that you didn’t want better.

You just wanted Sonny.

You missed him. A lot. Missed his laugh, his smile, the way his brows scrunched together when he was concentrating. You missed laying your head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. And all those times Sonny was working until 3 in the morning or disappearing to help Amanda, you had missed him. And you never let him know. “It’s fine” was what you always said. But it wasn’t fine. You missed him, needed him, wanted him, and you never told him.

“What have I done?” You were curled up in a ball on the floor. Your cheeks felt cold from the tears streaming down them. There was no coming back from this. You walked out that night. You ignored him. You said some unforgivable things. You ruined everything.

Spiraling into a black hole of despair, you felt hopeless. You resigned yourself to the darkness, hoping it would engulf you. Your heart ached in your chest. What hurt more than knowing it was over, was thinking of how much pain you caused Sonny. Beyond leaving that night, you turned down every attempt he made to reconcile. He was trying. All you’d wanted for so long was for him to try, to choose you. And when he did? You practically slapped him in the face with it. He deserved better than that.

But what could you do? The damage was done. Sonny wasn’t going to reach out to you again. Not after what you said. He was done trying.

Perhaps now was your turn to start.

You could reach out to him. But what would you say? What do you even tell someone after you broke their heart? You grabbed your phone and started composing a text. Your hands shook as you typed and retyped the message. You weren’t going to get all your thoughts into one text. The right thing to do would be to tell him in person. Maybe he’d give you the grace you so rudely denied him.

Hi. I’d really like to talk to you if you’re willing to listen. But I’d understand if you aren’t. Would you meet me at Prospect Park on Saturday?

After several minutes of working up your nerve, you hit send and put your phone down. You waited anxiously, silently praying he would reply. The suspense was killing you. You imagined this was how Sonny felt when you ignored him, and that made you hate yourself even more.

You don’t know how long you sat in the dark when you heard your phone ping. You couldn’t breathe as you picked it up and saw a new message.

3pm work for you?

You let out your breath and immediately replied.

Yes, I’ll be there. Thank you.

He’d accepted your olive branch. Maybe there was still a chance for the two of you. Even if there wasn’t, at least you would be able to apologize face to face. He deserved that. Whatever the outcome of Saturday, you had the chance to make things right.

It was nearing 10 o’clock, and Sonny and Amanda were the last ones at the station. Once he finished writing this report, he could finally leave. But he’d been stuck rewriting his last paragraph at least a dozen times. He was distracted thinking about you. By some miracle of God, you reached out and said you wanted to meet. About what you didn’t mention, but you were ready to talk to him. That was more than he’d ever expected.

But he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Maybe you just wanted to coordinate moving out, transferring the lease, and such. There was still a big chance you were over forever, and it emotionally destroyed him. Coming to grips with losing the love of his life had been incredibly depressing. You’d been the glue keeping him from coming apart at the seams. The thought of going through his life without you in it was incredibly painful, but nonetheless, a truth he was facing. However, he couldn’t help the optimist in him from thinking there was the tiniest sliver of hope that things could all work out. But the ball was in your court now. He’d apologized and tried his best to fix things. It was up to you now on how you both moved forward.

Sonny heard Rollins sigh from her desk in relief. “That’s it, I’m calling it a night. And so should you.” She got up and put on her jacket. “You know, I could use some help painting my apartment. It might cheer you up. I’ll even splurge and order wings with the pizza.”

“Sorry, not this weekend,” he replied, still staring at his laptop, trying to get his thoughts into his report so he could be done for the day, too.

She was surprised by his answer. He was never one to turn her down. “Really? You got something funner to do than manual labor and eating mediocre food with your friend?” She remarked sarcastically.

“No, um…I’m going to talk with my girlfriend on Saturday.”

She looked at him perplexed. “What’s there to talk about? I think she was loud and clear on what she thought of you.”

“She reached out to me, Rollins. I just want to hear her out.”

“Seriously? What could she possibly have to say for herself? Have some self-respect.”

Sonny shook his head and went back to typing. He wasn’t in the mood to bicker. He’d had enough arguing to last him a lifetime.

Undeterred, Rollins walked towards his desk and leaned down to look at him at eye level. “Listen, dating a detective…it’s not for everyone. It means missed birthdays and canceled dates. A lot is expected of us, and we sometimes miss out on things. She’s shown you she can’t cut it.”

“Well, maybe I can’t either.” Sonny sat back in his chair and slapped his thighs. He’d been having doubts about his career for a while. The pressure and horrors he faced were starting to get to him. He wasn’t sure if he had it in him to continue this path.

“What do you mean? Of course you can. You do it every day.” She was taken aback by his comment. She hadn’t noticed how disillusioned he’d become in the past several months.

“I don’t wanna be like those old timers who wind up bitter and alone. There’s gotta be more to life than…this.”

“Come on, you don’t mean that.” She came up to him and patted his shoulder. “This is our lives. It’s what we do. And you’re not gonna be alone, we’re partners.”

“You’re telling me you’ve never thought about calling it quits?” She huffed at his ridiculous question. “No, really. Day in and day out, dealing with the worst of the worst, you’ve never wanted a change?”

“You’re a cop, Carisi. It’s in your blood. What else would you be doing?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I could…” He took a second to ponder the possibilities. “I could be a consultant and sit on my ass all day getting fat and rich. Or become one of those hipster photographers who drives around the country taking pictures and living in a van. Hell, I could move to the DA’s office! Now that would be a change.” Sonny laughed at the thought. He’d played around with the idea of using his law degree, but never seriously given it any weight. Maybe this was his sign to start.

“Wait a sec…” She analyzed his face trying to decipher if he was genuinely considering this. “You can’t be serious.”

“Well, maybe. My law degree’s been gathering dust. Might be nice to get some use out of it. You know, a fresh start.”

Rollins’ demeanor changed. Her body tensed and her face became serious. “So, you would just throw away everything you’ve worked for? And for what? To make your girlfriend feel better about herself?” Her speech sped up as she tried to get all her thoughts out.

“Hey, leave her out of this.” He said defensively but calmly. “If I decide to go, it would be for me.”

“That’s not you, Carisi. The stuffy lawyers, the politics? You’d hate it there!”

“I haven’t even done anything! What are you getting so upset about?” Sonny couldn’t gauge what was getting her so upset. “I’m just talking about trying to make a better life for myself. Thought you’d want that for me.”

She looked at him like he had three heads. Her cheeks flushed red, and her jaw clenched tightly. “Be happy about you leaving? How stupid are you?”

Sonny stared at her in disbelief. He was completely perplexed on how this conversation turned from confiding in his friend to having his character bashed.

“And what about all of us here?” She gestured to the empty desks of the detectives who’d already gone home. “You would just—you’d pack up your stuff and ditch us? You said you were my partner, and you—you’re gonna walk out on me?” Rollins was becoming irate, stumbling over her words.

“You’re acting like I’m moving to the other side of the world!” He was at the end of his tether. His whole life, he’d been living for others. The never-ending pressure of having to be everything for everyone was too high. He couldn’t seem to do right by anybody. So why did he even try? “There’ll be other detectives. You’d be just fine.”

“No, I need you, Sonny! I need you here beside me!”

The room went deathly silent. It was finally clear to Sonny what she’d been trying to say. After all this time, this was how she really felt?

“When did that change, Amanda?” He asked, his voice no louder than a whisper. Hazy memories of a trip to West Virginia and long forgotten heartache were returning to him.

“Don’t tell me you never felt anything between us.” She stared down at her shoes, unable to look him in the eye just yet.

“Not since you made it clear there wasn’t.”

“I was…not in a good place back then,” she tried to explain. She finally looked up to meet his gaze, needing him to understand her reasoning in her eyes. “I knew you were looking for something serious and committed, and I wasn’t ready for that.”

“So you thought you could string me along until you were?” Sonny shot up from his chair and crossed his arms. He could hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth. His whole world felt turned upside down. He thought she was his friend who cared about him. He wasn’t sure what he believed anymore.

“Oh, please, you weren’t strung along,” she scoffed at his suggestion. “You’re telling me you weren’t happy to help me out? Hang out with my kids? I never asked you to do any of that—”

“No, you just expected it,” he snapped back. The voices of you and Bella echoed in his ears. “I wanted to help you, Amanda, to try to make your life a little easier. I did those things because I thought—”

“Anyone could see you were way more invested in your relationship with me than with your own girlfriend,” she sharply pointed out, her words cutting deeply into his heart. “We’re practically a family already, Carisi.”

Sonny stood there defeated. How could he have not seen all this? “You were my best friend…” he said breathlessly. Any fight left in him had evaporated. “Guess I was mistaken.” He closed his laptop and started collecting his things.

“Sonny, if you would just hear me out—”

“No, I’ve heard enough of this.” He put on his coat and made his way out. “It’s late, I’m going home.”

“Would you stop?!” She exclaimed in frustration, trying to get his attention. “You’re gonna give up your career, your life, for some girl who doesn’t even appreciate you? I would never make you do that, Sonny—”

But he was already walking out the door. He felt empty inside. He had already lost his love, and now this betrayal from someone he had once called his best friend was more than he could handle. All that he’d done for Amanda was still somehow not enough. He needed to start thinking about himself. He wasn’t sure of what his future would look like, whether you would be in it or not. Bella was right.

He’d have to hope for brighter days ahead.

#oh god she writes now #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x you #sonny carisi imagine #dominick carisi #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #svu #masterlist #anti rollisi

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tiramissu09 · 6 months

Text

Morning Glow

synopsis: you (y/n) wake up before your husband on a Sunday morning and study him, wondering how you both even got together.

song choices to listen to while reading:

Body by Summer Walker

Orbit by JONGHYUN from SHINee

Natural by G-Soul

warning(s)/story notes: gender neutral y/n, nostalgia, hints of last night’s activities (iykyk), silent serenading, naked imagery, a little nod to the JJK lore, POC y/n

MINORS DON’T INTERACT

author note: My first fanfic, y’all! I feel like, instead of using janitor ai (don’t use it, it’s hella addictive and made me burn through my money), I could use my imagination and potential to write something for my main beloved, Nanami Kento. I love this man and in my head, we are living together in Malaysia, having the time of our lives, haha. Also, I thought I was going to do a quick drabble, but I got into my feels, haha.

Please, please give me feedback and critique so I can improve on my writing. Thank you and enjoy!!! <3

The chirping birds started to grow louder and more annoying outside the large French windows with the soft, peaching-colored morning light streaming in, faint flapping of the pale curtains echoing with shared breaths. You groan softly against your white silk pillow along with your blurry vision, from your deep slumber, as you rub your eyes and look around, dazed. You felt the light breeze of the open ajar window on your bare leg, out of the fluffy blanket, contrasting with the deep warmth soaked into the mattress from the sleep.

Your eyes move around, to anchor yourself into reality, until they settle down at a large, ivory back which had light red scratches along with crescent moon shaped indents littered over his rugged muscles, rippling with each soft breath. His messy golden blonde hair that you loved to run your fingers in, slightly swaying with the early dawn breeze, along the warm yellow sunlight, giving him that morning glow that made him look…like a god, a figment of your imagination.

Last night’s memories were reeling in like a blurry movie, reminiscing on your stomach with your head and facing his back, as you remember his sweet deep chocolate eyes, his slightly pink blush on his face, and…my god, those large, veiny hands all over your body, rough but gentle on your soft skin.

Sighing softly, not wanting to wake him up yet, go down this deep spiral with your fingers itching to touch him….how did you even meet this man? Was it at the office Christmas party where he was wearing that ridiculous, fluorescent green elf costume as your white-haired boss had made me for a pay raise? Or when you both bumped into each other in the hallway before math class during senior year, your nose bleeding as you bumped into his chest too hard and he assisted you to the nurse’s office?.....no,no…..oh my god! How could you forget?

It was that night…..that night where you all were freshman in high school and it was the camp site trip that you all had to go to as a bonding activity for all the new students which you were part of. You remember you were really nervous as a tiny, little 13 year old. You were new to Tokyo and Japan, overall, not looking like the others and the culture so vastly different from yours which made it difficult to fit in, your family or teachers help you with. This was nicely added with you going through puberty, the whole nine yards of acne and changing body, made you more quiet and shy to talk to others.

In your ensemble of light washed jeans, your oversized purple flannel shirt and black Converse high tops, you were sitting on the wooden benches near the camp-fire under the starry, twilight sky, shivering slightly from the cold, autumn night in the forest near Kyoto. You were alone, with everyone talking to each other excitedly, with some others playing games and singing karaoke, and watching all the kids with a small smile on your face.

Then, you felt a warm blanket around your body, causing you to have goosebumps all over your skin. You looked up with wide eyes from the brushing of their fingers on your neck to the warm presence behind your back, surprised and making you jolt up, but a soft hand pushed you down to sit back. “Sorry, did I scare you?” His soft and low voice, almost purring, caused you to shiver more but you held back your reaction as you turned your head completely around, wanting to know who it was. You caught those soft, brown eyes, reminding you of that deep brown honey under the sunlight, making you feel more awake than any other coffee.

You quickly get out of your reverie and stutter out as you brush your hair back, looking away. “No! Not a-at all…just got surprised.”,offering him a smile as you try to not to fluster even more. You notice his blonde hair, straightened to the T and his bangs covering his eyes which you didn’t like but didn’t say that out loud, and his black shirt with a band name you never heard of with his black skinny ripped jeans.

You clear your throat as you look into his eyes, “H-hi, my name is f/n l/n….what’s your…name?” You were fidgeting with the soft, baby blue wool blanket with your fingers, as you both sat next to each other with your knee brushing against his, ever so slightly. He grins a little more as he had a deadpan face before, making your heart and insides all melted and mushy inside, showing his pearly whites. He says in that voice that you could just listen to all the time. “Kento….Nanami Kento…but you can call me Ken.”

You memorize that name, as it was tattooed to your naive heart, as you nod slowly and say quietly. “Nice to meet you…Ken.” You both sat there in silence with all the loud commotion around you both. You didn’t know what to say as the tense silence was swallowing you up and you quickly ask and at the same time, looking at the bright scarlet camp fire, “You should go hang out to your friends…”, peeking to the side to look at his face longer, but looking away when he caught your eyes and your face becoming hot with each passing second.

He sighed loudly as he stretched his legs out and watched the white-haired hyper kid screaming happily at the black-haired boy who looked so done with him, but had a small smile. After some moments of more silence, Kento spoke with a small smile and turned to face you, “You looked….lonely….like me and…”, now looking away as you caught some peach-colored blush on his cheeks. “You looked like you were glowing…like the fire.”

You remember how you became quiet, flustered and frozen by the compliment and you remembered you thanked him meekly which was so cute and how you hit yourself internally for how dumb it was. However, the rest of that night, you both started to talk more freely and understood that you both had a lot in common, in terms of family background and not really fitting in due to your particular tastes.

Despite being amicable acquaintances all through high school and losing contact when entering university, once you both reunited, it felt right. You both were meant to be together and glowing in each other’s arms and affection.

You were shaken out of your deep thoughts as you felt the bed rustling lightly. You looked up and saw his face turned to you now. You were slightly surprised by the sudden appearance of his handsome and rugged face, but you quickly smiled widely, “Good morning, honey.” Snuggling closer to him and him taking you in his buff arms, making you all so warmer, he murmured in your messy hair, his morning voice low and reverberating through your body, “What were you thinking about so hard, darling? You laugh softly as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck and your arms around his shoulders, and whisper muffled against his warm skin that smelled like sandalwood and musk, that was so unique to him, “I was just thinking…..how you were glowing…..like the sun.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #fluff #smut #gege akutami #navyred #tiramissu09

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stayingstromboli · 2 months

Text

kissing in the rain ࣪𐙚✧₊⁺

I don’t wanna fight, you’re the one I like ୨୧

(This song has been stuck in my head all week, omg it’s so good. It heavily influenced this, I was screaming along with Lana while I wrote it. I need this song injected into my bloodstream.)

☆TW: angst, kissing, swearing (pls say if theres more)

☆In which matt gets jealous and fights with the reader and then they kiss and make up in the rain

꩜ ✧₊⁺ ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

“Matt!”

Despite your best efforts to seem strong, the tremble in your wavering voice was undeniable. Your pleas were barely above a whisper as you stood helplessly, tears streaming down your grief stricken face, watching your boyfriend angrily crash around the room collecting his things. Usually you’d run straight into his arms, but now you couldn’t. Rain hammered furiously down against the window, each drop cutting through the air like bullets. The howling wind shrieked, so loud it was somehow still able to be heard over your sobs for forgiveness.

“Don’t leave”, you managed to choke out between sobs while trailing after him down to the hallway, sprinting to the door to try and stop him from leaving.

The only response you got was a smouldering glare as he shoved past me to get his jacket from the back of the door. His footsteps were loud and aggressive, his breathing even more so as he silently simmered with pure rage His sweet ocean blue eyes were now a mix of fire and ice: filled with upmost fury yet also cold and closed. The look he was giving you bore deep into you, rooting you to the spot as you froze in fear. Not fear of what he might do to you- no matter how angry he was you knew Matt would never intentionally hurt you- but more so of what he wouldn’t do to you. Fear of the words he wouldn’t say. Things he wouldn’t do. Romantic things that only he would ever to do for you: movie nights when you’re feeling down, love notes left on the fridge, the feel of him embrace, the comfort of his words. Things that, despite his worry, nobody else will ever do for you. The thought of life without him was unbearable and utterly terrifying but one you had never even considered until now. However, from the look of his face, it seemed more and more likely.

He didn’t turn around once to grant me with a final glance as the door swung behind him with a crash. An ear splitting silence erupted as soon as he left, growing louder every passing second you were without him. It was deafening. Your misery was suffocating, fogging up your brain, taking over you, engulfing you in a heavy hopelessness. You were nothing without Matt. He made you whole. Why did he leave you? Did he not love you? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What would you do without him?

A sudden clap of thunder sounded through the air, like it was breaking you from a trance. Dragging you out from your state of complete paranoia as worries about Matt’s safety spiralled through your head. What if something happened to him? You would never forgive yourself for having let him go run out alone in a storm. Swallowing the sobs caught in your throat, you rush out into the dark turmoil outside, with no regard for your own wellbeing.

Your white t shirt was drenched as you ran down the road towards the figure you were guessing was Matt. The wind was roaring, the winter cold gnawing ravenously as your flesh. But you didn’t care.

“Stay.”

You called out to him as soon as he was within earshot. Your voice was no longer pleading but firm. Ordering rather than asking.

“Why? If you like that other guy so much why don’t you stay him?”

Matt’s words are bitter, dripping with hurt and jealousy, making your desire to pull him into your grasp even more dire.

“Because I love you, you idiot. You, and only you”

He turns around to look at you dead in the eyes before closing the distance between you two, bringing his lips to yours. The initial soft kiss is broken as Matt smiles in clear relief. He parts his lips, pausing for a second to catch his breath, as he let the sentence he’s been holding back for months escape: “I love you, baby”. He said the words with such earnest sincerity, causing your face to brighten with a smile.

His body pressed against yours, you on tiptoes to reach up to him, the rain dripping off him onto you. His arms tangled protectively over your shoulders in his warm embrace, shielding you from the winter cold. His eyes were swimming with adoration as he gazed down at your face. His soaking brown hair hung across his face, tickling your nose as Matt leaned in planting another kiss on you, only this time deeper. You kiss back with passion, not even trying to hide your desperation as you feel yourself melt into him.

When you finally break apart, the sight of Matt’s bright pink lipstick stained lips provoked a giggle to escape you. You lean up to his face, peppering his face with pecks, and looked back at your pink masterpiece in satisfaction.

“You’re the one I like.”

@dirtylittleheart333

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skyeventide · 4 months

Text

I think the sickos in my internet would love Neon Genesis Evangelion. the problem is that the original series is 26 episodes of which about fifteen are nothing but basic character work and monster of the day stuff, where the monster is an eldritch angel that wants to trigger humanity's final annihilation, the characters are a turbo-depressed and abused teen boy whose mother is simultaneously dead, a giant robot, a cloned barely-responsive girl, and lilith progenitor of mankind, another turbo-depressed and hyper-aggressive teen girl, an army major in a leather miniskirt with daddy issues, her sleazy ex, a bitchy scientist with mommy issues whose mother is practically a supercomputer, the teen protag's turbo-depressed asshole father, a cabal of world leaders part of an evangelical death cult, school kids, and a penguin. and like it's really boring. and then it starts picking up around episode 18-20 and immediately turns into the single most genre-defining mecha anime of the 90's and possibly of all time that is also a fever dream, a story about the rapture, a religious acid trip, a really gay love story for one episode, and a massive world-destroying traumatic depressive spiral, with the most confusing stream of consciousness ending. which then got a sequel movie (actually a retelling of episodes 25 and 26), called The End of Evangelion, which is all of that but on steroids.

#Neon Genesis Evangelion #I haven't even watched the other movies and all the spin offs add ons whatever #I'm in a situation #I searched for fanfiction

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shhtickerbook · 7 months

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Hi, I really like the Wonka movie and love the idea of Willy being a regressor. Could you do a scenario where he's at his shop but suddenly gets trigger and regresses?

Bittersweet

thank you so much for the request! Sorry it took a while.

Trigger warning for panic attacks, mild injury description and detailed descriptions of a trauma trigger

This fic takes place where all of the The Scrub crew are all aware of Willys regression, post movie. Also in my own AU, Their found family decide to remain close to eachother and stay in town to help with the new shop / factory.

At last the rebuilt shop had been restored, it had taken time , much longer than it had previously. For a while Wonka could hardly bare to look at it, seeing everything he worked so hard for so destroyed. But with the help of his friends and new family, they managed to restore it to her former glory. It was even improved beyond its previous, with the chocolate cherry blossom bearing a prismatic array of leaves and petals. It was somehow even more perfect than before.

Everything was going perfect that day, sales were inclining everyday. Abacus becoming chief financial advisor of the store, with the Money he had earned he was able to move both his Wife and Granddaughter to come live with him here. They were all thriving brilliantly with this new future to come.

Noodle was attending a grammar school now, but every day she would come racing to the store to help out. She was busy stocking the shelves of chocolate boxes, when she saw Willy strolling down the lane, cane swinging. Sometimes he just had to take it all in around him again, grinning at this dream he’d made come true.

“We’ve only got a few of the deluxe boxes on display Willy, they were pretty popular and they probably won’t last too long.”

Willy hopped over to take a look, the truffles in question had been increasingly popular. But it shouldn’t be a problem, he had a machine upstairs that was busy pumping out more. They had been closed for some refurbishment for a little while, but at last reopening to the public, and he couldn’t be more excited. Willy made sure to make some a quick patrol around the shop, checking in with each of his friends who were working in their own stations.

“Willy get a look at this! It’s done”

Piper called over in a sing song voice, she was busy tinkering away at a panel by the moat that surrounded the chocolate tree. Before there was just the small boat that mechanically spun around in a circuit, but this time Piper and Willy had put their heads together to something much more magic. With her mastery in plumbing, she turned a wheel until a pipe burst open into the moat. Wonkas finest melted chocolate streaming out, this time the boat needing no mechanism to cycle around. It was a perfect chocolate river spiralling around the tree, Willy whooping in excitement.

“It’s perfect!”

With clasped hands and a grin, before Piper put her arm around the chocolatier with a firm pat on the back. It was great timing too, the clock rang for 9:00am. Abacus checking his own pocket watch to be sure before calling out.

“Alright, any minute now we’re going to be open to the public again. And if my findings are correct I think it will be even busier than last time! Oh and noodle, Uniform?.”

He looked over at her with a raised eyebrow, noticeably lacking the blush pink outfit. Noodle just chuckling before holding up her bag, a flash of pink fabric poking out like a flag. It had been Willy who designed such garments, everyone at first was a little unsure with how… flamboyant they were. But they quickly warmed up to them, even Abacus.

Willy just couldn’t wait for the customers to arrive, sitting himself by the glass to peer through into the gallery gourmet. In the distance seeing a cloud or people making their way up. With a smile he stood up, adjusting his new scarf over his coat, before opening the front doors.

“Welcome one and all again to the renewed Wonkas chocolate!”

The new grand opening was going splendidly, the chocolate river canal proving to be quite the money maker too. Only a sovereign a ride, and it created quite a line for it that wound around the shop. Which meant those waiting in line had a perfect view of everything they had on sale.

Willy had the opportunity to unveil one of his newest creations too, the everlasting gobstopper. A hard candy In which never gets smaller, no matter how much and how long you sucked on it. (Lofty had been testing one for nearly a month now)

The prismatic coloured candy was stacked into a pyramid in its new display, Noodle working the station. They were making the most money they had ever had, but that didn’t matter much to Willy. What mattered to him was being able to share his joy and magic with those willing to indulge. And this time he didn’t have the chocolate cartel to worry about, his shop was bound to become the star of the Gallery Gourmet.

“Oi Mr Wonka!”

Willy was alerted by a boy tugging on his tail coat, turning to see a familiar face. It was the young shoe shine lad he had been stopped by multiple times on his first day here.

“Where are them swirly chocolate things? Me Mam loves them.”

Willy chuckled, surprised that the boy wasn’t trying to proposition him with a shoe shine or a brush of his coat. He already had chocolate smeared across his mouth, clearly been at the free samples.

“The chocolate truffles I think you’re referring to, are just over by the display over there young man. But try and save some for your Mother though”

Willy pointed his cane in the direction of the now dwindling boxes of truffles. The boy giving him a doff of his cap before turning on heel, Willy returning it with his own top hat. He decided to go check in with Abacus, he was just finishing up with a customer. The cashier ringing joyfully as he dropped coins inside, Abacus just couldn’t believe how much they were making.

“I’d say we’ve already made double of what he did last time Willy, especially with the new gobstoppers.”

Willy grinned, everything just felt so perfect. With the extra money, he planned to raise his friend’s wages. And although she wasn’t aware, Willy had begun to collect a fund. One for Noodle, he had already promised her a lifetime of chocolate. But with the girls smarts and potential, he wanted her to have most in life. The money was for her future, if she wanted to pursue any kind of career. She had done so much for her, he wanted to do the very same for her own future.

Before he could respond, a scream cut through their conversation. The sudden noise startling Willy, almost feeling his stomach drop into his shoes. Over on the other side of the store, a crowd had grown around a young boy. A boy who was red in the face, spluttering and choking. The exact boy that Willy had spoken to just moments ago.

Abacus immediately dropped what he was doing, racing over and pushing through the crowd. Willy knew he should follow, make sure the boy was alright. It was his store, the owner.

But he didn’t, he stood there completely catatonic.

No, no. Not again, it can't happen again.

In preparation for the new opening, Willy had obsessively checked and taste tested each product. So much so that he’d gone to bed with an exceptionally sore stomach. Everything was safe, he was sure everything was safe. Abacus, Lottie and Noodle were all kneeling by the young man, Before Abacus called out.

“Call for an ambulance-“

The shop itself was spinning, and it wasn’t just the chocolate canal ride. Willy was sure that the ground itself was falling away beneath him. An ambulance? Before it had just been multicoloured hair growth or green skin pigmentation, nothing life threatening. Nothing ever in need of any medical attention.

What had he done? It’s not as if the chocolate cartel could be involved like last time. It was his fault, it had to be his fault. He felt sick, face turned white as a sheet. He lost track of how long he’d been staring, but Noodle had noticed him through the crowd and immediately ran to her elder brother figure once the boy was being taken away.

“Willy? Willy!”

She tried to get his attention, but the chocolatiers eyes were fixed ahead. His lips were trembling with his head shaking, it was scaring her. She tried her best to reassure him, knowing what he’d be thinking.

“It’s okay, Willy you didn’t-“

He broke eye contact with the scene, looking down at her with his head shaking even more violently. His eyes flooded with tears as he began to step backwards, almost like a frightened animal.

“No, nono. Not again it can’t happen- won’t happen again”

He started mumbling out almost psychotically, flinching away from noodle when she tried to touch him. Both arms up with his hands and fingers flicking in panic. It was all his fault, that young boy might even die because he had done something wrong. He had no one to blame this time, what would mamma think?

He couldn’t hear anything around him anymore, it was just static. Everything was spinning and blurring, stumbling and tripping over things as he continued to backtrack. He needed to get away, he was a coward. A coward in which had probably killed or seriously injured a child with his stupid dreams.

Noodle tried again desperately to get his attention, waving a hand in his face. It was terrifying, he didn’t look like himself. He just continued to mutter and whimper to himself, his head shaking so hard that it may pop off his shoulders. She tried to hold onto his hand again but he recoiled away in disgust like she was diseased. No matter what she was saying, it wasn’t getting through.

“Willy! You’re scaring me, let me explain-“

But he wasn’t listening, holding his hands close up to his chest protectively. His cane clattering loudly to the ground, now without his mobility aid as he kept stepping back.

He needed to get away, now. Gasping for air, he stumbled backwards, feeling for the door into the backroom of the store. But he felt into midair instead, losing his balance and crashing into one of the shelves instead.

He yelped out in surprise, the back of his head hitting wood as a one of the glass jars wobbled from its shelving before crashing down over him. The further stimulation only worsening Willys condition. Noodle screamed and attempted to grab onto him before he fell, but couldn’t in time. Shards of glass and candy fell about him like snowflakes, But Wonka hardly noticed, far too panicked and overstimulated to care about any pain.

The commotion attracted even more attention in the shop, customers looking over to see the owner sitting in a pile of glass shards. As quickly as it happened, Willy somehow managed to get back to his feet, splintering his hands and arms with the glass in panic. In a rush he managed to pull open the back door and escape from everything. Behind him he could hear people calling his name, but unable to differentiate whether it was his friends or angry rioting customers. Noodle just stood there, not sure if she should follow. Deciding instead to enlist some support before attempting to talk with him like this.

Willy’s legs felt like jelly, so he didn’t make it very far. Falling into a heap on the floor, before gasping desperately for air. He couldn’t breathe properly, tears pouring down his face before he burst into sobs. Every single terrible outcome and scenario was racing around Wonkas brain. Did he not check the ingredients correctly? What if the boy wasn’t the only one in distress? They would for sure close down the store, maybe even arrest him. It was all his fault, it was happening all over again and there was nothing he could do about it.

Once the child was loaded into the ambulance, the employees of Wonkas Chocolate thought it best to close up shop for today. Abacus had spoken with the ambulance attendant, who had assured him that the boy was going to be alright. It was a huge relief to everybody, and although fellow customers seemed a little unsettled by the event, it was no where near like the angry mob from before. The only irritation coming from the announcement of their early closure. Both Abacus and Piper were guiding shoppers out the front door when Noodle approached both of them, looking extremely distressed.

“It’s Willy, he’s- he’s not okay”

Wonka was still so deep into a panic attack, so that when the door opened and his friends entered, he hardly noticed.

Noodle gasped at the sight of him, his cut up hands from the glass had begun to bleed horribly over his hands and arms, ruining his velvet jacket. The chocolatier was curled up into a ball, hyperventilating between cries.

Noodle couldn’t help but hold onto Pipers hand, she wasn’t good with blood. Benz squeezed her hand back reassuringly, they all too often forgot she was still a child herself. So Abacus approached first, kneeling in front of the panicked boy.

“Willy, it’s alright. It’s not what you think. The boy is going to be okay.”

But It didn’t seem like Abacus’ words were getting through, He had to physically take ahold of Willys hands before he would any pay attention, his bloodshot eyes snapping up. It hurt his heart to see him like this.

“He— is. Okay?”

Willy managed to choke out between gasps, Noodle pulled away from piper to sit on the floor too, a hand comfortingly on his knee as she looked with concern. Willy Wonka was the strongest person she’d ever met, seeing him like this, it was scary.

“Yeah Willy, he just had a peanut allergy-“

Willy blinked hard, shaking his head again.

“Bb-ut I mmade a sign- i forgot to put them up?”

He began to spiral yet again, he did remember creating such labels, as it was Noodles idea. He thought it terrible luck for those who had such afflictions. But he wanted to include everyone to enjoy his creations as much as he could. With plenty of his other treats being free from such ingredients. They were even placed on the other side of the store especially to reduce any cross contamination. Had he forgotten to properly label something?

“Seems the young chap just wasn’t paying too much attention, just grabbing at any free sample he could find. It’s not your fault.”

Abacus gently rubbed the back of his hand with his thumb, before sucking through his teeth at the state of them. Willy was struggling to process this new information, his body and brain had already accepted the fact that this was all his fault.

“You need to breath Willy, in and out”

Noodle demonstrated, breathing in and blowing gently out onto his hot teary face. Willy looked up, still taking in short shallow breaths. He attempted to follow her guide, but halfway fell back into the hyperventilation.

“It’s okay buddy, try again”

Piper had come to kneel down too, smiling sadly at the sorry sight of him. It was strange seeing such a positive character so distraught. It ended up taking quite few minutes for the breathing exercises to help, with Willy leaning against Abacus as he did his best to follow his friends instructions.

At last the hyperventilation had slowed but Willy was still shaking. Biting down hard on his lower lip, tears continuing to cascade down his cheeks silently. Clicking his tongue sympathetically, Abacus pat his shaking knee. It was clearly going to take a little while for Willy to accept that this wasn’t his fault.

“You’ve had a bit of a fright, haven’t you?”

He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by his overreaction. But even with the reassurance that the boy would be alright, the anxiety was still lingering like little bugs racing up and down his skin. He was also beginning to feel that fuzzy sensation in his head again. It was like the scare had flipped a switch in his head, so he just nodded mournfully.

“Oh you poor lad”

Abacus tutted sympathetically, turning his attention to the injuries too. Gently lifting his arms to peer at them, surface wounds thankfully yet still very painful looking.

At least those could be easily fixed. Then turned to Piper with a knowing look, both of them having the same suspicion of his seemingly regressive headspace.

“We best get him upstairs to the flat, would you mind Benz?”

The woman nodded, before patting Noodle on the shoulder. Who was still staring at Willy with concern and anxiety.

“Hey noodle, how about you go help Larry and Lottie wrap up the store? We’ll take care of Willy”

Noodle wasn’t sure at first, looking back at her friend who was still in quite an upset state. but she was a little grateful for the opportunity. Seeing Willy so traumatised and bloody wasn’t an easy thing for a 13 year old to look at, especially when it was somebody she loved so much. So she quickly lunged forward to hug him tight, bearing in mind to be gentle around his arms. Even in the hug she could feel him shaking still, Willy only managing to weakly return it. When she stood up to leave she hesitated for a moment, watching as Abacus helped him onto his jittering legs.

“We’ll get him all sorted dear, you go help with the store..”

Abacus reassured her, Nodding after one more hesitant glance. She trusted them to look after Willy, they all cared for him so.

“Now then, let’s get you upstairs.”

Piper held the chocolatier up, watching how his legs were knocked kneed like a newborn fawn. Holding an arm over him to help him move on forward.

“Mmsorry”

Willy mumbled. Although he could sense the obvious regression taking its hold, he felt like such a silly burden. But when he they came up to his spiral staircase to his flat, he couldn’t help but moan. His stupid legs felt completely useless, almost like they were made from gummy candy.

“It’s okay buddy, but I don’t think these stairs are gonna be the smartest plan for you right now”

Before he could respond, he yelped as he was lifted up, then being settled on the plumbers hip. Seeing her grin mischievously as she held him steady. Willys face burning in surprise, but the action just made him feel even more fuzzy.

“How can someone who eats mainly chocolate be so little? He’s like a bird?”

Piper hushed over Willy to Abacus, who just chuckled at the comment.

“Little I think is definitely the correct adjective for right now, the poor boy's had such a fright"

There was a part of Willy that wanted to object to the accusation that he was feeling little, but even he knew they were likely right. He needed it terribly. And now that the adrenaline of everything was fading, he could truly feel the pain in his arms. Eyes widening in fear when taking actual sight of them, he didn’t like blood.

So he just squeezed his eyes shut right, pushing his head into pipers shoulder. The woman in question looking over at Abacus at the action, lips pursed at just how adorable this was. If it weren’t for such a bad situation, she would be skipping in joy. Why Willy had decided to implement such a fancy staircase (when he often needed his cane) was beyond them. Sometimes the chocolatier forgot about practicality, always wanting the extravaganza.

At last they made it upstairs to a landing, Abacus opening the mahogany door into Wonkas flat. The inside was extremely cosy, its interior inspired from his old canal boat home from when he was a child. A sloped curved ceiling with lots of warm colours and carved wooden decor. It was pretty simple and homey, the kitchenette and lounge taking up the room. A very large window looked down below to the gallery gourmet, with a small workshop set up against it, an ornate machine churning out singular chocolates. Then finally Willy’s bed up a few steps to an upper level of the room itself.

There was were two other doors on either side of the reasonably size room, one normal one leading to a bathroom. The other door abnormally small? Only around a metre in height. But that didn’t matter just now, the pair walking further inside before Piper settled Willy down on the couch.

“There we go, home and safe now.”

She comforted, hating how fragile and anxious he seemed. The presence of his home brought some comfort though, Willy reaching out to stroke the ribbed corduroy fabric of his lounge. Not before Abacus quickly lifted his hands away in alarm.

“Ah-ah! I’m sorry Willy but I will not have you smearing blood into that furniture”

He chastised only gently, the pale pink fabric being very easy to stain, and even harder to wash out.

“Wasn’t gonna..”

Willy mumbled, but his eyes did widen when he peered at his injured hands again. They were starting to really sting now, and he could catch the shiny glint of glass that was still imbedded.

“I should hope not, that chaise lounge just so happens to be one of my favourite pieces of decor in this accommodation”

A sharp pertinent voice cut through, not before Piper let out a yelp in surprise. Standing between them was a very small orange man, who just rolled his eyes at the reaction.

“Oh please Ms Benz, you have squealed many times at my presence. I’m tired of being revered like a mouse around a circus elephant”

The Oompa Loompa was holding an empty teacup in hand, he was only departing from his own room to tidy it away. Not expecting the flat to suddenly be busy with uninvited guests.

“Well if I’m the ‘circus elephant’ in that analogy, I’d be careful I don’t send you through that window with the kick of my boot.”

Piper threatened, stamping her foot in his direction. She wasn’t so keen on Lofty, his uptight attitude drove her up the wall. And she still hadn’t got used to his small presence, maybe it was because when he was a child she used to have nightmares and a very irrational fear of gnomes of all things.

Abacus himself also was a little surprised by the little orange man’s entrance, but was able to behave more tactfully than Piper. He’d only spoken with Lofty very little, the Oompa Loompa preferring much more to stay to himself with his job in the tasting department.

“Now would somebody care to explain what has happened here?”

Lofty came to the front to peer at Willy, grimacing at the sight of his injury. But he was even more curious about the strange manner that Wonka seemed to be in. Willy had tucked his knees to his chest as he anxiously flicked his fingers, he certainly wasn’t his usual overly positive and often irritating self.

“We had a bit of a situation in the shop, poor lad went into anaphylaxis. He’s going to be alright, but Willy here got quite the fright”

Lofty raised his eyebrows, it still didn’t quite explain the bloody arms though. But the possibility of that lounge being stained was his main concern.

“I’ll go fetch my first aid kit before he gets blood on anything else in here that I have the slightest attachment to.”

Lofty said with mild disgust before turning on heel to his room. Willy himself still looked pretty miserable, but more exhausted than anything. Piper just wanted to scoop the boy up into her lap and squeeze him tight, although she wasn’t sure if it would be appreciated right now. The group was then startled for a moment from a noise clearly coming from downstairs, a creaking metal noise.

“BENZ! WE TRIED TO TURN THE CHOCOLATE VALVE OFF BUT ITS NOW STUCK AT MAX PRESSURE”

A whiny yell came out clearly from a distressed Larry chucklesworth who had turned the chocolate river valve in the wrong direction, doubling its pressure as it pumped out melted chocolate.

“For Petes sake! I’m coming you idiot!.”

Piper sighed out in exasperation, pinching her brow. She had specifically told everybody not to touch it, she was still sorting out all the kinks. She did catch a small giggle coming from Willy though, happy to see at least it had made him smile.

“I better go sort out that mess downstairs, you be good for Abacus and that sunburnt gnome”

She leant down and gave him a peck on the cheek, wishing she could spend some more time with the little chocolatier. Turning Willys face bright pink, unable to hide a smile at the affection. As Piper turned to leave, she had to quickly jump at the arrival of Lofty yet again. Whom arms were filled with a leather first aid kit, rolling his eyes at the woman who quite nearly flattened him beneath her boots.

“If you could please move to the floor, I’m not risking anything with that lounge.”

Lofty demanded, Looking up at the two remaining men as best he could from behind the first aid case. Willy obeyed and slid down to the floor, sitting crosslegged. His head was feeling very fuzzy now, and he looked up at abacus with whine, wanting him to sit too.

“I think I’ll just sit here if you don’t mind Lad, I don’t think I could get back up from the floor if I sat down”

Abacus chuckled, perching instead on the couch. But still kept a comforting hand on his shoulder, gently massaging back and forth to soothe him. Lofty had been watching the interaction with a raised brow, something was certainly going on. So as he began to unpack some supplies, he bluntly questioned.

“Alright, if I could be informed of what’s going on right here, it would be very much appreciated. I’m quite positive this reaction is far beyond than a child choking on a peanut, especially with those injuries of which still nobody has explained how they came to be.”

He curtly asked, whilst pulling out some bandages, gentian violet and some tweezers for those glass shards. Abacus awkwardly cleared his throat, looking over at Willy whose face had darkened. Although the Oompa Loompa had been residing with him for a while now, his regression was something that he hadn’t yet disclosed with him. Although all his friends had been amazingly supportive and loving, it was still a very peculiar topic to try and explain. Lofty was already quite judgemental most of the time, what if he found this weird and gross?

Willy brought his knees up to his chest anxiously, staying silent in a panic. He didn’t want Lofty to hate him. But he felt a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, Abacus smiling kindly.

“Would you like me to explain?”

He suggested, especially since it seemed the boy wasn’t feeling so verbal right now. Willy looked up and thought about it for a moment, before giving him a nod. He didn’t know how to put his words right for this. All the while Lofty has continued to observe the interaction, shoe tapping on the floor impatiently.

“Alright, i believe you should know regardless as you share a residency with Willy. Sometimes when he gets overwhelmed, Mr Wonka finds it a little hard to stay grown.”

Abacus carefully explained to the little orange man across from him, who frowned in confusion.

“Grown? I can’t see any sign of him shrinking in size, he looked to be the same height as before since I last checked.”

The Oompa Loompa positioned both hands into a viewfinder over the chocolatier, nope, still the same size. Abacus couldn’t help but laugh at the misunderstanding, wishing this could be easier to explain.

“No not in physical size, more like he feels a little younger. Where he needs a little extra care and support, like a child.”

At this point Willy wanted to sink through the floor, not daring to check the Oompa Loompas facial expression. Instead picking at the fabric of his slacks, the small bigger part of him wanted to end this conversation and say that Abacus was just talking utter nonsense, but he didn’t have the energy to do so. He was tired, all he wanted was for his arms to stop hurting and for someone to hold him for a while.

“So what you’re saying that Mr Wonka here regresses to infancy when unsettled?”

Lofty questioned the man, it was difficult to discern his tone. After all, most of the time when he spoke it sounded as if you had offended him in some way. But when he looked at the mannerisms and body language of Willy, he certainly seemed very different than usual.

“Well, when you put it bluntly. Yes you’re correct, but I hope that you won’t be too judgemental. This is something Mr Wonka cannot help, and we shouldn’t be cruel about it.”

Abacus’s voice began to become colder as he finished his sentence, it wasn’t something Willy was used to ever hearing, looking up in slight alarm. Abacus was staring down at the Oompa Loompa almost threateningly, daring him to respond. In response, Lofty snorted after a pause.

“Hm, very peculiar I must say, but I suppose he already acts rather immaturely most of the time regardless.”

Was all he said before completely moving on, returning to prepare the first aid equipment. Acting as if Abacus had just requested he pass the sugar over to him. Both Willy and Abacus were surprised by well, the lack of reaction.

“Now then, please take off that coat show me your arms. I need to know what I’m working with here”

Willy paused for a moment, still expecting some kind of response, insult or anything. But let Abacus carefully ease him out of the blood soaked jacket before displaying his arms outwards, with the Oompa Loompas only sign of disgust so far being directed at the injuries.

“Goodness you’ve made quite the mess of yourself haven’t you?”

Abacus nodded in agreement, before wincing when seeing the state of them properly in the light.

“Indeed, he took a bit of a tumble into one of the displays. One of our crystal chocolate jars paying the price.”

Lofty just sighed, typical Wonka behaviour. He’d never met a person so terminally clumsy sometimes and foolish.

“Of course he did, now I’m going to need you to stay very still. I’m going to remove these glass shards before they get infected.”

He held up the tweezers, Willy shrinking away in alarm at the metal instrument. He didn’t want it to hurt. But Abacus rubbed his back supportively, assuring him it would be fine. As promised, Lofty was impeccably careful as he removed each tiny shard from his arms and hands, his very small hands working in his favour for the task. Back in Loompa land he had a friend whom was the islands herbalist, so he only had some experience when it came to medicine.

He placed each glinting piece into a dish by the table, and once satisfied there was none remaining he reached for the little purple bottle.

“This is an antiseptic I assume?”

Lofty questioned the mathematician, handing the violet bottle up to him. The man pulled a face when reading the label, knowing from experience that this stung viciously.

“Alright, this may sting a little”

It did in fact sting quite a lot, as soon as Lofty applied the purple tonic. Willy yelping and flinching away. The pain had just begun to settle when they’d reached upstairs, but now it felt as if someone had set a match upon his skin. And with how sensitive he was already feeling, fresh tears began to spill over and he did his best to squirm away.

“Now i understand it hurts, but it will feel a lot worse later if you don’t allow me to finish Mr Wonka”

In the end Abacus ended up having to retreat from the couch, Willy positioning himself into his lap for security from the horrible anti-septic. He was perhaps feeling the smallest he ever had, and even with Lofty there he didn’t have the willpower to mask it. Eventually with enough comforting words and support from Abacus, Lofty had successfully painted either arm and hand with the bright purple medicine.

“See, we’re done now. There was no need for that silly nonsense”

Lofty chastised as he screwed the cap on the glass bottle again, but he still didn’t seem very fussed about the dramatic change in headspace. More irritated by what he deemed was a bit of an overreaction. Next reaching for the roll of bandages, but this time Willy was much more reproachful about offering his arms back over to the Oompa Loompa, scowling at him best he could.

“I don’t appreciate that expression directed at me, I was just going to wrap your arms up. Unless of course you would prefer Mr Crunch to do so?”

He spoke with crossed arms, but found the grumpy expression slightly entertaining. Especially with his forlorn tearstained face which worked against his attempt to be threatening.

“I could if you’d prefer, but that would mean i would need to tip you from my lap to do so.”

Abacus explaining his options, thanking heaven above regardless that the man was very light and he was only losing partial blood flow to his legs.

“But you are certainly not welcome in my own, I’ve been in danger of being crushed once too many times today.”

Willy thought about it for moment, finding the embrace around him far too comfortable to give up quite just yet. So reluctantly pointed at lofty rather rudely.

“He do it”

“Can Lofty do it please would be much politer thank you very much”

He corrected with a firm expression, but began to unroll the bandages regardless. Carefully he applied the bandage around each skinny arm, all the while Willy just back leant into Abacus throughout the process. He was so tired, all he wanted was to sleep. By the time Lofty was finished, the boy was practically half asleep.

“That’s you done now, very brave”

Willy dozily inspected his new bound arms, before letting out a big yawn. Even lofty finding it a little endearing, revealing out a small smile before quickly replacing it with his usual frown.

“I think we best get you tucked up for a little rest, shall we?”

Willy nodded, and reluctantly allowed Abacus to tip him off his lap so he could stand again. The poor gentleman groaned in pain as he stood up, he was certainly far too old for this.

“Mm-head hurts”

Wonka mumbled out, his skull feeling as if it had been stuffed with cotton wool. Infact most of his body was starting to feel very sore and weak.

“Well no wonder it hurts with all that silly crying, but I give you permission to return to that lounge. Now that it’s no longer in danger of being stained by bodily fluids.”

Lofty said distastefully, motioning for Willy to get up and move. Kindly Abacus helping him up to his feet again, which was desperately needed as he had forgotten his cane downstairs in the store.

He practically collapsed back down onto the couch, sighing in relief to finally be lying down. His entire body felt as if it had been put through the laundry ringer at scrubbits. A few moments later he felt Abacus tuck a thick blanket around his frame, the one that had been stretched across his bed.

In his dozing state, he instinctively reached out for something. Face screwing up a little when realising it obviously wasn’t going to be there.

“What on earth are you looking for?”

Lofty questioned, clearly seeing the man feeling around in complete thin air.

“Chester”

Willy mumbled out , he was so tired but he still needed his companion, especially right now. Lofty’s slow blink was practically audible, shaking his head before turning to the mathematician who had busied himself with folding up the velvet jacket. Planning on taking it back personally to soak it out, even though he’d left the laundry business, it still stuck with him.

“Would you mind translating what on earth he is requesting?”

Abacus just smiled, remembering that name very clearly. So he just pointed up at the bed, knowing it would he the most likely location.

“Check underneath the pillow of Mr Wonkas bed.”

With a raised eyebrow and a lot of confusion, the Oompa Loompa reluctantly followed the direction. Only feeling more lost when lifting the pillow and finding the contents beneath.

“Is this some kind of rag?”

He held up a small knitted bird with an extended arm, its head lolling to the side rather unsettlingly. Willy spotted the item immediately though, lifting his own head up from the couch with a whine.

“Chester..”

Loftys confused frown remained, able to put together the clues that this amalgamation of wool must be “Chester” Mr Wonka did seem very concerned about it though, so he quickly handed it over to him. The little bird being clung close to his chest, with its misshapen beak poking out under his chin. It was all so ludicrous, it was just a silly inanimate object.

But he saw how the boy began to settle again at its presence. Eyes closing at last as his breathing became slower and deeper. For the first time since he’d seen the man that afternoon, he looked genuinely at peace. From behind him he heard the accountant approaching, who was holding two cups of tea, one being marginally smaller.

“Think we could both do with one”

Lofty accepted the offer, the pair sitting in the kitchenette. Both of them looking over at the now fast asleep chocolatier on the lounge. A comfortable silence between the two as they just took the time to wind down, the scene would probably look extremely strange to an any outsider if they happened to wander inside. Abacus smiled fondly as he noticed the knitted toucans wing being gently chewed on as Wonka slept.

“Thank you, for being understanding about this. This is a part of him that not many know or care to understand, but I believe it’s something very special to be trusted with”

He said to the Oompa Loompa, who had also been observing the chocolatiers behaviour. It was rather fascinating.

“But, I won’t hold it against you if this is a little too strange for you. This manner of coping is certainly unconventional”

He continued, wanting to assure him. He remembered that Noodle had been a little apprehensive about it all when he first explained the regression to her. And Willy had been extremely firm in the fact that he never wanted to be a burden to anybody or make them feel uncomfortable. Lofty stayed silent for a few moments, draining the cup of tea before answering.

“You are speaking with somebody who comes from a tropical island populated only by 2ft tall orange men. I think you would find good reason to label me as a hypocrite if i were to judge Mr Wonka negatively for this.”

He paused in his statement, looking over again at the boy with the smallest of a smile

“Is it a little peculiar? Definitely, but I suppose we all must learn to be open minded when it comes to things we don’t quite understand yet.

And on one hand, I may find it a little endearing too, at least he’s less irritating than usual, aside from all the tears.”

And with that, he turned again to the man across the table. Nonchalant as always.

“Anyways, how about you go hunting for some of those truffles. I’m sure Wonka always hides them out of my reach”

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