#he likes high coverage and he's always a little cold

[canisalbus]

Hey :3 I present my headcanon for Machete

He's a gay that wears sweaters anytime it's cool enough (I'm projecting, I also do this)

Anyway, I hope you have a great day/night! I live your art, and Machete and Vasco are constantly in the back of my mind.

.

[thepencilnerd]

if you don’t take requests please ignore me! but Dr Robby and another HCP (maybe nurse) being on call overnight bc of snow or something and sharing a squished little twin xl bed in the on call room 🙂‍↕️

**bonus points if someone comes to wake one of them up and sees them all cutie snuggled up

this idea has my <3, i hope you enjoy anon ^-^

pairing: Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x F!Doctor!Reader genre: literally just pure fluff notes: private but not secret established relationship, close-quarters intimacy, the interns make a cameo, abbot, mel, & langdon are your x Robby's #1 fans, Robby being a soft boy who anticipates your needs

It was the worst winter storm Pennsylvania had seen in years—whiteout conditions, icy roads, and windchills low enough to freeze the Allegheny. The hospital had issued a mass alert just after midnight, encouraging all staff to remain onsite rather than risk the commute home.

By the time it had snowed eight inches overnight, with half the staff stuck in their neighborhoods or crawling along the freeway, you and Robby had offered to pull back-to-back coverage. By moon fall, the ER had calmed down just enough for you to take a deep breath—and then you remembered the on-call room.

The room was barely more than a glorified broom closet with a twin-sized bunk bed that sagged slightly in the middle. It had a small bathroom attached, but calling it a shower was generous—it was more like one of those overhead chemical rinse stations from a high school science lab. The water ran out too quickly, never got hotter than lukewarm, and sputtered like it resented being asked to work overtime.

Still, you were exhausted and freezing, barely holding yourself upright after fifteen straight hours on your feet. Robby had noticed the way you leaned against the wall between cases, the slight tremble in your fingers as you sipped water, and the dark shadows blooming beneath your eyes.

"You should crash in the on-call room for a bit," he said softly, brushing his hand down your arm in that way he always did when he was trying to coax you into taking care of yourself. It was one of his tells—the way his fingers would trail lightly over your sleeve, slow and grounding. Just enough pressure to let you know he was there. He’d done it on your worst days, in trauma bays and stairwells and break rooms, and every time, it had a way of quieting the static in your chest.

"I’m okay," you lied through heavy eyes, stubborn and determined to monitor your cases. "There’s still a couple charts I need to—"

"They’ll still be here when you come back," he interrupted gently. "You’re running on fumes."

You hesitated, and that was all he needed. He reached up, gently tucking a damp, frizzy strand of hair behind your ear—his fingers brushing your temple with a tenderness that made your breath catch. That was the final nudge, the one that broke through your inflexibility and reminded you he always saw you, even when you tried to act fine.

"I’ll come with you," he added, voice casual but warm. "We’re stuck here ‘til the snow clears anyway. Plus Dana offered to hold down the fort."

That got you.

You didn’t say yes so much as let out a long sigh and nod, heavy with defeat and gratitude. Robby didn’t gloat—just gave your shoulder a warm squeeze and offered his hand.

"Come on," he said, voice soft. "Before we have to admit you."

You rolled your eyes, but when he stepped in beside you and gently slipped your arm around his waist, letting you lean into him as you walked the corridor together, you didn’t pull away. You were too tired to pretend you weren’t clinging to him a little. He didn’t comment on it. Just adjusted his pace to match yours and kept you steady, steering you carefully around gurneys and corners like you were the most precious thing in the building.

The room wasn’t much, but with Robby beside you, it didn’t matter. You’d shared a quick shower—taking turns under the weak stream of water, half-laughing at how absurdly cold and uneven it was, bumping elbows as you tried not to slip on the slick tile. The water had been lukewarm at best, sputtering like it didn’t want to be there either, but Robby’s hands had been warm as he helped rinse shampoo from your hair, his fingers gentle and slow like he had all the time in the world. You’d stood forehead to forehead for a few moments after, breathing in the steam and each other.

When you dried off and dressed in spare sweats and thermals, he tugged your sleeve and gave you that look—the one that said he wasn’t asking, just quietly waiting for you to rest. He got into bed first, shifting to the far side and patting the space beside him in quiet invitation. You didn't hesitate before crawling in after him, into the warmth of his waiting arms. The scent of cedar soap clung faintly to the collar of his shirt as you settled into the space he made for you—safe, soft, familiar. He pulled you close, like he’d been holding that shape for you all day.

He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder as he settled behind you, arm draped low across your waist, thumb tracing slow circles against the soft cotton of your borrowed shirt. You sighed, muscles finally starting to unclench, exhaustion winning the fight against stubbornness. His touch was light, reassuring, like he was reminding you he was there without needing to say a word.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, voice rasped from hours of use but still the gentlest thing in the room.

You reached down to brush your fingers against his, lacing them quietly together.

“Thank you,” you murmured, eyes already slipping closed.

By morning, you were tucked under one thin hospital-issued blanket, facing each other on the narrow twin bed, your foreheads nearly touching. Robby’s arms were wrapped around you like a cocoon, holding you to his chest as though to shield you from the last bit of cold left in the world. One of your legs was slotted between his, your hands tangled together between your bodies like an anchor. You were nestled in close, limbs entwined in that soft, sleepy way that only came from long hours, cold nights, and knowing each other like the moon knows the night sky—something instinctive and effortlessly familiar, like you'd been made to find each other. 

Which is precisely the scene your dear colleagues walked in on when they cracked open the door to find the unofficial king and queen of the ER.

Abbot blinked. Then smiled like he’d just walked in on a Hallmark movie. "Told you."

Langdon didn’t say a word—just pulled out his phone and snapped a picture with the biggest grin plastered on his face, immediately sending the photo to the group chat. 

"Is that... Dr. Robby?" came Whitaker’s voice from behind them, whispering.

Santos grinned. "That’s gonna break headlines."

Javadi peeked in around the corner, wide-eyed. "They’re actually snuggling. Like real-life snuggling."

Mel, ever neutral, simply nodded. "Their body language indicates long-term emotional attachment." However, even she couldn't hide the glee in her voice.

Moments later, a domino of phones vibrated.

Collins: Excuse me why are they adorable

Dana: I can retire in peace.

McKay: I called it. I knew it and I hate how much I love that I was right.

Mohan: Guess who owes me $5

Mateo: I don't remember signing a contract 

Back on the bed, Robby stirred slightly, his grip tightening as if on instinct. He inhaled softly, nose brushing your hairline, and smiled—a small, contented thing. Like your scent alone had reached some deep, quiet place in him and told him everything was okay.

"Give them ten more minutes," Abbot whispered, gently closing the door with a soft click. "They’ve earned it."

[dazzlingjaeyun]

ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ – ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊᴏɴɢꜱᴇᴏɴɢ

brother's best friend!jay x fem!reader

୨୧ genre: smut, MDNI | words: 4.3k | cw: mean!jay, brat!reader, a looot of bickering lol, slight degradation, jay is a little manipulative, nipple play?, oral (f & m receiving, head pusher!jay), unprotected sex (hell no), creampie (+ lmk if i missed anything!!) ୨୧

hanna says: biggest thank you to my favorite jay girly, my other half and the one who motivated me to start writing on here in the first place. thank you for proofreading a lot and for letting me yap 24/7, this one's for you mwah @brklynbabyjay

mature content under cut, minors do not interact!

2:47am, your phone read when you grabbed it with a sigh after tossing and turning in your bed for what felt like an eternity. the heat in your room felt oppressing – the flimsy sheets might as well have been a double blanket and your pajamas felt like a winter coat despite barely covering any skin.

with a sigh, you got up from bed and tiptoed to the kitchen. with each step down the stairs you felt the air getting just a little cooler and your tense muscles relaxing just a little more.

you flicked on the light above the sink, before grabbing a glass from the top shelf. it slipped right through your sweaty palms and landed directly in the sink before you could catch it. it didn't break, but the noise cut through the silence of the night so loudly and suddenly that you were sure it could have woken up at least half of the neighborhood.

"fuck," you whispered to yourself, wiping off your sweaty palms on your silky shorts and carefully grabbing the glass from the sink.

just as you thought no one had heard your little accident, a sudden, sleep-laced voice broke the silence again and startled you to a point you almost dropped the glass another time.

"are you kidding me?"

you didn't have to turn around to know it was jay's oh so humble self standing in the kitchen door.

"enlighten me, what's your problem this time?" you asked, although you knew the answer. you kept your back to him as you filled the glass with ice cubes and cold water, waiting for him to reply.

jay's jaw clenched at your words. you had woken him up, just as he'd fallen asleep after hours of tossing and turning on the sofa, trying to somehow ignore the heat that pressed down on him like a weight too heavy to carry. and now you had the audacity to ask stupid questions?

"it took me forever to fall asleep and you wake me up cause you can't even hold onto a glass?" he snapped. his voice sounded less sleepy now – still raspy but regaining the usual edge he had to it whenever he was talking to you.

he was your brother's best friend and you'd known him since forever. you were sure the two of you had gotten along back then, when jake brought him over for the first time – sometime in his first year of high school when you were still in middle school. but just a little later, he'd started to pick fights with you every chance he got, which eventually led to him mostly ignoring you, and if he did talk to you, his voice always had that annoyed undertone.

for a moment, you didn't say anything, bringing the glass to your lips and taking a sip, letting the cold run down your throat and hoping it would somehow also cool off the anger that started to bubble up in your chest.

as you stayed silent, jay's gaze remained on you, only now noticing the light blue silk pajamas you were wearing. they were unnervingly short – more skin than fabric, really – and it annoyed him even more how the shorts outlined your ass perfectly, your plush cheeks just slightly exposed from how little coverage the piece of clothing provided.

when you finally turned around, his eyes shot up to your face immediately. you took in the sight in front of you: jay's messy hair and the way his shirt clung to his torso a little more than it usually would – you were pleased to see that he was suffering from the summer heat as much as you were.

"well," you broke the staring contest between the two of you, involuntarily trying to look meaner than the other, "if you didn't sleep in my living room, maybe you wouldn't have to bother me."

jay's eyebrows shot up at your remark. "or if you were a decent person for once and weren't so inconsiderate–"

"i'm inconsiderate?" you interrupted him. "that's rich coming from someone who moved in here two weeks ago and thinks he can make the rules," you huffed.

jay's jaw clenched another time as he took a step toward you, but you didn't back down. you looked up at him, returning the same fiercey look he gave you.

"you think it's fun living with you of all people?" he asked through gritted teeth, his taller figure hovering over you.

"no, but it's not my fault your girlfriend kicked you out," you replied, keeping your voice steady although your heart started to pound in your chest at the way his eyes narrowed slightly. yet, a tiny pang of amusement at how your words seemed to affect him joined the nervousness of wondering how far you could push him before he snapped.

oh, now you were curious.

"honestly, i'm not surprised," you added, your voice not faltering even when he stepped so close your bodies practically touched. "if you were only half as much of an asshole–"

"shut. up." he snapped, accenting each word.

the corners of your lips shot up into a smug grin. "can't stand me talking back to you?"

"i can't stand you in total."

"i never would have guessed," you replied sarcastically, taking a step back to casually lean your back against the kitchen counter. you brought the glass of water up to your neck letting the cold condensed water on its outside cool your skin. "wonder why you hate me so much, though. i don't remember pissing in your cereal when we were kids."

jay's jaw tightened even more. he was so annoyed. there you were, standing in the stupid kitchen with your stupidly short pajamas showing way too much of your skin that looked so. stupidly. soft. and you were bashing him, although he should be the one to talk you down right now. god, he couldn't stand you and how fucking hot you looked when you were snappy.

"you just make it hard not to," he replied, his voice laced with more annoyance than you'd ever heard from him before.

you chuckled at his words, the sound making his blood boil even more. what was so funny about him being annoyed, borderline angry?

"listen, jay bae," you said sarcastically as you put the glass down on the counter behind you, "if you want to stay with me and jake, you'll stop acting like i'm some kind of tragedy. you either ignore me, or you at least pretend to get along with me. deal?"

for a few moments, he just looked at you, his eyes still full of frustration. then, he suddenly stepped forward, his hand reaching for the back of your neck and his lips crashing onto yours harshly.

you were too shocked by his sudden action and the rush of warmth flooding through you to react. he pulled back just as quickly as he'd leaned in, leaving your lips cold with the shadow of his, and looked at you as if searching your eyes for a reaction.

"what the fuck?" you asked, still taken aback.

you wanted to take a step back, but the kitchen counter was already pressing against your back. jay smirked at the shocked expression on your face.

"i said shut up," he repeated his words from earlier that night, as if that would suddenly validate that he'd kissed you. he placed his hands on the counter directly next to your body, trapping you between him and the cold marble surface.

"you don't get to–"

he leaned in again, his lips brushing along the curve of your neck. you felt his breath against your skin, and despite the heat he radiated, you shivered – your words caught in your throat.

you could have pushed him away – should have pushed him away, really – but instead, you stood there, too stunned to move, with your heart violently pounding in your chest.

his hands found their way from the kitchen counter to your hips, fingertips pressing into your clothed skin in a way that made you almost feel his frustration.

the warmth of his breath brushed against your neck, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes. you could feel your breath coming faster and your mind growing foggy as his lips traced a line to your collarbone, leaving a heat that shot right down to your core.

“w-what are you doing?” your voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it was enough to make him pause.

"pretending that we get along," his lips brushed against your neck as he replied.

your breath hitched as he slid one of his hands under the thin fabric of your silk top, his fingers digging into the skin on your waist as he held you.

you wanted to push him away, really. everything told you to do so. but instead your hand found its way to the back of his head, pushing him towards your neck again. you couldn't make sense of it, but the way his lips brushed harshly against your skin, and the way you fisted his hair slightly whenever his teeth grazed against your skin, felt like you could finally let out the frustration that had been building up over the past two weeks of living with him.

"you're so goddamn annoying," he mumbled, pulling away from your neck only to push your top up your torso, over your head, and mindlessly discarded it on the floor.

just as you were about to cover your bare skin, he attached his lips to it again, moving from your neck to your collarbones and down to your chest. his hands found their way to your shoulders, holding you in place as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and causing you to shiver, despite the hot summer air. you bit your lip to hold back a moan, yet you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his tongue against you.

"speechless suddenly?" he asked as he pulled off and brought his lips to the other side of your chest.

"fuck you," you mumbled back before quickly pressing your lips together. your fingers were still tangled in his hair, keeping him close to you, but you would not give him the satisfaction of a moan.

"a little more patience," he grinned, before swirling his tongue around your sensitive skin another time.

his words suddenly made you hyperaware of the situation. you shouldn't have let him kiss you in the first place, much less help him to take off your top by voluntarily lifting up your arms. as the realization hit, you quickly pulled him off of you.

"you're disgusting," you said, trying your best to not sound as breathless as you felt.

"oh please," he grabbed your wrist to hold you in place as you attempted to pick up your shirt, "the way you're acting, you're practically asking for it."

"asking?" you echoed in disbelief. he was insufferable. "you have too much of an ego, don't you think?"

jay narrowed his eyes. "no, i think it's the truth," he said, letting go of your wrist and leaning down to your neck another time.

you swallowed hard. "stop playing games, jay," you said in a warning tone, yet you didn't push him away as his teeth grazed your skin again.

"you started the 'game', and you're losing it, darling," he replied, the nickname dripping with sarcasm.

you hated to admit he was right. maybe it was just your sleep-deprived mind, or maybe it was cause the air was so unnervingly thin, but his touch sent shiver after shiver down your spine, covering you in goosebumps and sending waves of heat through your body all at once. even his annoying words started settling between your legs and no matter how much you pressed your things together, it just wouldn't stop.

"look at you," jay said in an amused tone as his eyes flicked down to your legs, your thighs subconsciously rubbing against each other, "bet you soaked your pretty panties for me and i didn't even touch you."

a wave of heat shot up to your face. you didn't know if it was from embarassment or anger, but you didn't bother trying to hide it. "oh please, jay, you couldn't even make me cum if your life depended on it," you said, the words slipping past your lips before you could stop them.

he looked up, his eyes flashing with something you didn't understand as they met yours. "bet," was all he said before sliding your flimsy shorts down your legs, making sure to cup and squeeze your ass just once after he'd taken them off.

before you could react, he knelt down in front of you, harshly grabbed your thighs to spread your legs, and pressed his tongue flat against your clothed core.

your knees buckled slightly at the sudden contact, and you swore you could feel jay's stupid grin. "like i said. soaked." he murmured as he pulled the wet piece of fabric to the side.

"shut up," you whispered, not quite trusting your voice when the way you felt his breath against your wet core already caused you to clench around nothing.

"someone's sensitive," he whispered back, the airflow hitting your skin yet again.

"i said shut up," you repeated, and without wasting another thought, you grabbed his hair and harshly pulled him to where you needed him the most.

jay immediately licked a stripe along your folds, humming in satisfaction. "mouth so dirty but your pussy's so sweet," he mumbled against your skin before focusing his tongue on your clit.

your eyes fluttered shut, only to open again shortly after, as you failed to suppress a quiet moan. the sound went straight to jay's cock, causing him to hum against you another time as he sped up his movements, eager to pull another moan out of you.

he succeeded when he pushed his tongue into your leaking hole and his nose brushed against your clit. you sounded so sweet, he could cum only listening to you – but he'd never admit that.

you pulled on his hair harsher, subconsciously bucking your hips forward for him to reach deeper, as your legs started to shake more. jay grabbed one of them and rested it on his shoulder, never stopping to lap up everything your cunt gave him.

just as you felt your orgasm approaching, your legs closing around jay's head with a force that almost made him dizzy, he pulled back.

your eyes shot open and you looked down to him with an almsot bewildered expression on your face. he looked so hot with your slick covering his lips, his chin and parts of his nose, but right now you really just wanted to punch that stupid grin off his lips.

"seriously?" you asked as he stood up and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. "i was so close to–"

"so i could make you cum," he cut you off with the same annoying grin.

you didn't reply. instead, you tried to bend down to grab your clothes from the kitchen floor, but jay held your wrist again.

as he didn't let go even after you'd shot him a glare, you rolled your eyes. "congratulations, jay. do you want a trophy for your efforts? i didn't think you were so committed to win the gold medal in orgasm delivery–"

"shut up, will you?" jay interrupted, the smirk quickly replaced by his usual annoyed demeanor. "you're playing so hard to get when–"

"maybe you're just hard to want," you cut him off again, but he only raised his eyebrows.

"right," he replied, sliding one finger through your folds and collecting your wetness, the sudden contact drawing a surprised whimper from you. you quickly bit your lip, mentally cursing yourself for letting the sound slip.

"doesn't seem like 'hard to want'."

you glared at him for a moment, before averting your gaze. without another word, jay grabbed your arms and turned both of you around so he was standing with his back against the counter and you were in front of him.

before you could open your mouth to speak, jay placed his hands on your shoulders and firmly pressed down, causing you to sink to your knees in front of him.

"so much talking when you could just put that damn mouth of yours to use," he murmured.

the words made you gulp, but for some reason, they also sent a new wave of excitement through you.

one of his hands moved to cup your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. "let's see if you can only talk big or if you're actually useful for something, hm?" he asked, the tone of his voice almost soft.

the question annoyed you as much as it challenged you. eager to prove him wrong, you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his shorts, pulling them and his boxers down in one go, and only hesitating slightly when his hard cock sprang free.

"backing down?" jay cooed, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

you didn't reply, just wrapped one hand around his length, gliding your thumb over his leaking slit to use the precum as lubricant, before slowly pumping your hand up and down.

jay hissed at the contact, his hand tightening around your chin and the other gripping the counter behind him to steady himself.

his reaction made your lips curl up in a victorious smile, but you knew you could do better. you stopped your movements, waited for him to look down at you with a puzzled face, and licked from his base up to his very tip. you swirled your tongue around it just for a second before releasing it again while looking up at him through your lashes.

jay groaned quietly, his hand leaving your chin and finding its way to the back of your head instead, where he gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail before pushing your head closer to him again. his other hand reached to tap on your lips, which you wordlessly parted just enough to close them around his tip again.

jay pushed your head closer, letting you take his length into your mouth – inch by inch until you gagged around him and he grinned smugly.

"can't take more?" he teased, but you were determined to wipe that damn grin off his face.

you breathed in through your nose and moved your head forward in one go until your nose hit his pelvis and you could feel his tip against the back of your throat, swallowing around it to suppress another gag.

the feeling drew a surprised moan from jay that caused you to look up at him with teary eyes. you swallowed again, humming in satisfaction as you received the same reaction.

"c-can't believe you're actually good at something," jay stammered. "do that again."

you obeyed, the feeling causing his eyes to flutter shut and his head to shoot back with another quiet moan.

he slowly pulled your head off his cock only to harshly push it back forward again after you'd swirled your tongue around his tip. he continued, his movements growing faster and rougher as his hips started to thrust forward every time he brought your head close – hitting the back of your throat each time, while you tried your best to not gag and he tried his best to not moan too loudly, not wanting jake to hear.

your hands reached to grab his thighs, attempting to somehow ground yourself when he slammed his hips forward another time. your jaw was tense, your eyes were burning from the tears that dared to roll down your cheeks, your head hurt from the force with which jay pulled your hair together, and yet all you could think about was finally making him cum and proving him wrong.

as his hips stuttered and his breaths started coming ragged, he held you in place, your nose pressed against his abdomen and the tip of his cock against the back of your throat. you eagerly hollowed your cheeks and swallowed again, pushing him over the edge.

"stay there," he ordered in between quiet moans. you felt his cock twitching as ropes of his cum ran down your throat. you quickly swallowed, yet couldn't stop a little from running down your chin as he finally pulled off.

you quickly wiped your chin with the back of your hand and stood up on shaky legs, shivering at how your arousal made your thighs stick together.

jay looked at you, his chest still rising and falling quickly. "hard to want, hm?"

"my god, fine. just fuck me already," you replied, your voice laced with frustration, which caused his lips to curl up into a little smile.

he turned you around and firmly pressed his hand on your back to guide your chest down onto the cool marble countertop.

"beg for it," he said in the most casual way possible.

you turned your head back and looked at him in disbelief. "seriously now?" you tried to stand up straight, not willing to feed his enormous ego more by begging, but his hand stayed firm on your back as his other slowly pumped his cock a few times before he guided his tip up and down your sensitive folds.

you clenched your fists, trying to move your hips back against his, but jay stepped back.

"i said beg for it," he repeated sternly.

when you hesitated, he lifted his hand from your back, attempting to step away fully. you squinted your eyes and mumbled out a quiet "please." you felt the embarrassment wash over you, but you just really wanted to finally feel him.

"what was that?" jay asked, stepping closer again.

you sighed. "please, jay," you repeated, still quiet but a little clearer than before. a hint of relief rushed through you as you felt jay's hand on your back and the tip of his cock against your needy hole again.

"please what?"

screw that. you were desperate but not desperate enough to ruin your pride entirely.

"you know what, fuck off, i–"

the words caught in your throat as jay suddenly pushed his entire length into your aching hole, knocking the air out of you. the stretch was so intense that you desperately searched for something to hold onto, but jay didn't give you any time to adjust as he pulled out almost entirely only to snap his hips forward harshly again, drawing a chocked moan from you when his tip hit your cervix.

"gonna finally put you in your fucking place," he said, hissing at the way your walls sucked him in so perfectly with each thrust.

"j-jay..." you whimpered once the pain gave way to pleasure, hating yourself for giving in to him, but also not caring enough to make him stop.

he groaned lowly at the way his name rolled off your tongue, mixing perfectly with the sounds of your wetness and his skin slapping against yours.

"takin' me so well," he mumbled in between his thrusts. you felt so warm and tight around him, the moans you tried to muffle clouding his mind until there was nothing left but you and the way you felt.

the sudden praise caused you to clench around him involuntarily. his hands moved to grab your hips, holding you in place as he continued to pound into you. he looked down to where your bodies connected, watching as his cock disappeared in your pretty cunt with each thrust.

"you're so stupid," he muttered, slipping back into the way he alway spoke to you, "for ever letting other idiots have their way with you when i was right there all the time," he blabbered out, slamming his hips into yours even harder.

you wanted to speak back, but each thrust knocked the air out of your lungs all over again as you placed your hands on top of his to somehow ground yourself.

"so tight for me," he mumbled at the way your walls clenched around him the closer you came to your high. "mhh, so wet"

"o-only for you," you managed to slur, way too far gone to realize what you'd just said, only focusing on the tight knot in your stomach that was dangerously close to snapping.

"jay, i-", you cut off as your orgasm washed over you in waves, each feeling heavier than the one before. jay brought one of his hands to your mouth to cover it, muffling your moans as his own high hit him at how strongly you clenched down on him.

you felt his cock twitching inside you before the warm ropes of his cum painted your walls white. he thrusted into you a few more times, sloppy and less energetic, riding out his high, before coming to a halt.

he took a few seconds to catch his breath. then, he quickly pulled out of you, the sudden feeling making you hiss. as you slowly lifted your chest from the counter, turning around on wobbly knees, jay had already pulled up his shorts again.

he bent down, picked up your pajamas and threw them in your direction. you caught them, wordlessly putting them back on as the reality of what had just happened started to crash down on you.

jay walked past you, opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, before giving you one last glance and heading toward the door.

"wait," you held him back. he turned around to look at you, raising his eyebrow in question.

"what," you hesitated, "what... are we doing now?" you asked, averting your eyes and looking at the floor in front of you instead.

jay shrugged. "pretending that it never happened," he said casually before walking out the door.

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

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[bellarkeselection]

Walter to the Rescue

Gif not mine it belongs to @alphinias

After a ride in the woods late at night you wind up getting lost and to the readers surprise Cole actually answers your call.

Tag list - @cognacdelights

Kicking my horse in the belly to go faster with the wind running through my hair that I left completely loose. This wasn’t the first time I had taken one of the Walter family's horses to clear my head from a day of high school. It all could be a lot especially when everyone in this town knows you have a close family relationship with the Walter kids. Because it only results in half the school thinking you're sleeping with some of them. “Woah boy. Easy now.”

My horse begins making some noise in protest hearing some thunder off in the distance. I knew that horses could get spooked easy but I wasn't too worried about it. Alex had taught me how to keep your cool on them. Looking around at the treeline the leaves have already begun changing colors making it really beautiful. “Ah!” I screamed suddenly when lighting hit the ground in front of me and that caused my horse to whine and throw me off its back.

“Ow! No wait…” I called out to my horse but he was already far off into the treeline. Running a hand through my hair I sighed seeing that the sky was getting darker meaning there was a storm coming. Digging inside my jacket pocket I drew out my phone dialing the house phone getting no answer. “Seriously a house full of that many people and nobody hears the phone!”

I guess I couldn't blame them for not answering. That house is always loud and crazy no matter what time of day. Plus now that Jackie from New York had moved in things got more complicated. Tapping my knees in thought I tried to decide who would answer my call. Alex was busy with Jackie, Parker was probably outside playing with Benny. Will was working tonight selling houses. Jordan, Nathan, Lee, Isaac and Danny didn't drive. So that left me in the hands of the most popular guy in town who was known for hooking up with multiple girls Cole. Lifting my head up to the sky I felt heavy rain coming down where I scrambled to my feet but collapsed when I felt a sharp pain in my left ankle. “Shit!...guess he's my only choice now.”

It wasn't that I hated the guy. I just hated the reputation he had made for himself. The rain came pouring down where I grunted, forcing myself to stand up. I hopped over to the treeline to get some coverage from the storm. The wind was picking up, shaking everything so I dialed his number. “Pick up, pick up.”

“What's going on, Y/n?” His voice came through the phone.

“Don't make fun of me but I'm lost.” I stated.

He chuckled at me. “How did little woodlen girl get lost?”

“Cole, I'm not in the mood for teasing right now.” I spat back.

The former star football player still was laughing on the other end. “I’m sorry I just can’t believe girl who hunts with her father managed to get lost on our property. I mean I never thought I’d see the day from someone like you.”

“Cole, I am currently stuck out in a storm and called you for help so can you take this seriously please!” I raised my voice pulling the hood of my jacket over my head shivering when the wind blew harshly against me.

Finally to my surprise he came to his senses responding back to me. “Alright I’ll come get you.” He hung up the call and I was forced to listen and watch the storm get worse for an hour or so.

Burying my face into my knees my body was shaking from the cold and the fact that my clothes were soaked head to toe. I heard a vehicle engine getting closer in my direction and it pulled to a stop showing me it was Cole’s truck he was usually working on in the barn. The drivers door flung opened and quickly shut where I saw someone running towards me with a jacket in their hands. “Cole?”

“One knight in shining armor, woodland girl.” He declared dropping down on a knee, draping the jacket over my shoulders.

I glared up into his green eyes seeing his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Can you please call me by my actual name for once?”

“Maybe someday. Come on let's get out of the cold before we both get frost bite.” He offered me his hands tugging me to stand.

“Argh!” I winced, dropping down on my other knee after my injured ankle.

Cole was quick on his reflectances sweeping me up bridal style into his muscular arms. “Looks like you needed a better horse riding teacher than Alex huh?”

“Let’s not talk about it right now.” I said feeling embarrassed enough as is. He helped me into the passenger seat and we drove home. He carried me upstairs and sat me down on the edge of his bed in his bedroom.

He searched around in the closet grabbing himself a change of clothes. Then he tossed me one of his blue tea shirts and some shorts. “Here I can help you if you need it.”

“Turn around first.” I instructed him, blushing since I haven't even kissed anyone before. He did as told giving me the chance to slip my wet shirt for his and shrugging off my jeans until I thought about getting the shorts on. I pulled them up as much as I could before getting his attention. “Cole, I can’t get them up without standing on my foot.”

He looks over his shoulder coming back to me moving his hands down to the left side telling me. “Lift your foot for me.” I lifted my foot and he shrugged it up then helping me sit back down on the bed so I could do the same to my right leg without his assistance.

“Thanks, Cole.” I whispered where he stands in front of me letting silence fill the room. I avoided his gaze, not sure of what to say until I shut my eyes to ask the question. “So did you have to skip a hookup with Erin to come rescue me?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Why would you care if I did. You have a crush on me or something, woodland girl?”

“Y/n, you know my name so use it.” I corrected him. “And even if I did, you don't have relationships. I wouldn't want to be another girl tricked by The Cole Effect.”

He raised a brow at my words. “Oh yeah. What makes you think you'd just be another girl I hook up with?”

“Like I said everyone at school knows you don't do real boyfriend girlfriend relationships. You do hook ups and my mother saw it before I did but I refuse to let my feelings for you lead me down that path since you can't possibly feel the same way about me as I do you.” I accidentally admitted without realizing it to him.

Cole stared blankly at me. “You don't think I feel the same?”

“If you did, you have a funny way of showing it.” Shrugging my shoulders I lowered my gaze down from his green orbs.

Cole simply replied then closed the gap between us. “Is this enough of an effort for ya.” He cupped my face in his hands, crashing his lips down onto mine.

I gasped in shock and awe that the famous Cole Walter was kissing me. He was kissing me, the girl that wasn’t popular like he was. The girl that was just a friend of the family but still no one special. “Cole…I’ve never….never done anything like this.” I mumbled tugging on his blonde locks deepening the kiss. He moaned gently pushing me down onto the mattress and he climbed over top of me never breaking the heated kiss until we needed air.

“I’m not doing this to just have a hook up with you, Y/n. I’m not good with commitment but I do actually care about you.” He breathed out holding himself up by his hands on either side of me, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were focused on me.

Raising one hand up I tangled my fingers into his hair asking the question that was eating away at me now. “So what does that make us now, Cole Walter?”

“We can take this slow and figure it out as we go along, Y/n Woodland Girl L/n.” He smiled leaning down kissing me gently this time. I giggled wrapping my arms around his neck bringing him closer to me enjoying the kisses we shared.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[sukuna-ryo]

Jjk Men College Au

Headcannons

Nanami Kento

Finance Major

Blonde neatly styled hair, sharp cheekbones, thin lips, light brown eyes, glasses pushed up the nose bridge, dark circles, well-groomed and tidy, looks more professional than the professor, you thought he was a professor when you first saw him, calm and composed, stoic, mature, responsible and reliable, emotionally intelligent, good with people, helpful, no-nonsense-adult attitude, pragmatic, cynical, intelligent, tactical, tech-savvy.

Early morning lectures, blue dress shirts, khaki trousers, leopard print ties, networking, finance club, seminars, workshops, turns in assignments before due date, stockbroker internships, libraries, desk lamps, late night study sessions, midnight snacks, ink pens, vintage cars, leather seats, cracking knuckles, strained shoulder muscles, working out, not compromising on physical health despite having a demanding major, does jujutsu as hobby.

College-personal life balance, strength of character, disciplined, organized, heartthrob (unaware), husband material, would probably fall for someone just as diligent as him.

Ryomen Sukuna

Kinesiology Major

Red hair, fiery personality, strength, endurance, gym, MMA fighter, training, late night MMA matches, muscles, tattoos, tattoo artist best friend, frat parties, alcohol, girls, messy sex life, doesn’t do relationships, toxic, fans and fan clubs, future MMA champion, media coverage, athletic, strong-headed, willpower, intelligent, calculative, cunning, missing lectures, top ranker despite not studying much, arrogant, crazy, borderline criminal, don’t try to date him pls.

Leather jackets, ripped jeans, cologne, smirk, loud, reckless, always on the move, fights, wins, clubs, stays up late, doesn’t care, bad boy persona, high status, no commitments, love for chaos. Tension in the air when he enters, always the center of attention, fans everywhere, no time for weakness, doesn’t need to try.

Tattoo sleeve, arms covered, history of fights, scars, reputation, strength, untouchable, doesn’t play by rules, barely attends class, still aces it. Smirks, keeps moving, doesn’t stop. Drinks, casual, no relationships, cold heart. Only more battles ahead, all eyes on him, unpredictable, dangerous, charming.

Geto Suguru

Philosophy Major

Long black hair, weird side bangs, manbun, hidden tattoos, sharp dresser, classic casual but always expensive, calm and composed, mysterious yet friendly to those who matter.

Religious studies, top student, always reading something deep, debates with professors over lunch, having lunch with professors, doing pottery in his free time, sharp opinions, loud thoughts, a little racist, has a vision for an ideal society, probably loves Pythagoras and his cult, wishes to have something similar, always scribbling down ideas in random places, likes to keep things classy but low-key, sharp, calculating, deeply invested in his beliefs.

Volunteers at orphanages, good with children, art hobbies, loves to talk about philosophy, sometimes found debating late at night in the library, always in deep thought, a bit of a perfectionist, not easily impressed by others, enjoys challenging people intellectually, likes to put effort into his appearance, always carrying books on ethics, metaphysics, and society.

Popular amongst women, Gojo’s best friend, your grandma would probably like him, friendly but keeps a bit of distance, doesn’t open up easily but will be there for you when needed, composed around strangers, warm to those he’s close to, respects loyalty, his ideal partner would be someone with similar intelligence and values.

Gojo Satoru

Business major

6'4, blue eyes, trust fund guy, loud, jolly, eccentric, talented, arrogant, sarcastic, wants to make friends but misunderstood by those around him, comes off as off-putting, rich family, only heir, prodigy, diamond spoon kid, first in everything, Geto's best friend.

Gets bullied because of his white hair, shades, blindfolds, people think he has some weird kink, has fangirls regardless, popular loner, sharp dresser, stands out, hates attention, smirk always in place, makes people uncomfortable with his confidence, carefree but secretly lonely, sharp-tongued, cracks jokes all the time.

Easily gets on people's bad side, works to keep up his image, loves challenging authority, doesn't care about consequences, fiercely protective of his friends, holds grudges, always first to show up, leaves last, high-profile business role in his future, a bit of mystery that draws people in, keeps everyone at arm's length.

Wants to be understood, still pushes people away, walks into a room and demands attention, but doesn’t say a word, people notice him immediately, no one dares challenge him, but it’s not for lack of trying, takes classes seriously, skips boring ones, coffee in hand, shades indoors, professors secretly like him, students admire or fear him.

Doesn’t attend study groups, pulls through with perfect grades, natural intelligence, picks up info quickly, a bit of a mystery, high-profile events, networking, parties, center of attention at social gatherings, random comments that leave people laughing or wondering, doesn’t care about others, secretly craves connection but too prideful to ask for it.

---

Do not copy, plagiarise, translate or repost any of my content.

Likes, reblogs, and feedback is appreciated <3

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sanctuary - An Original Story.

Well, here we are, guys. A brand new original. I know that so many of you aren't here for this, but maybe give me a chance? I've tagged a couple of people who have been on board with my previous originals, too. No pressure if you're not feeling it, and if you do want to be tagged, please let me know.

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Words - 5,452

Warnings - 18+ content, mentions of violence. Of course, it'll be smutty too, eventually! Minors DNI!

In the world of rock and metal music, numerous artists distinguish themselves from their peers. This distinction is often due to their exceptional talent; however, in certain cases, it arises from actions that are considerably less commendable. 

Jim Gordon, 70’s rock musician and one-time drummer for Alice Cooper, murdered his own mother in schizophrenic meltdown. Varg Vikernes, sole member of Burzum and former member of Mayhem, murdered founder and former friend Øystein Aarseth in cold blood, to name but two infamous slayings.  

In 2013, the alternative music world was rocked once again by a horrific case that shook residents of Stockholm and beyond to their core, the brutal murder of a nineteen-year-old man committed by two of its most prolific young musicians. 

“In the criminal case that rocked the municipality of Solna, the accused men at the forefront of the Solna Satanic murder were sentenced earlier today. Lucas Borgström, twenty-two and co-defendant Nils Ekenberg, twenty-four, were each handed eighteen years for the brutal slaying of nineteen-year-old Pieter Arneson. The men, known for their unrepentant devotion to their Satanic beliefs as well as their roles in popular heavy metal band The Hanged, showed little emotion as sentencing was passed. 

The case, which has drawn intense scrutiny and public outrage, highlighted the dark undercurrents in the seemingly tranquil suburb. Families of the victim and the accused were present, their faces etched with a mix of relief, sorrow, and disbelief as the verdict was read. Outside the courthouse, a crowd had gathered, some holding candles in a vigil for Pieter Arneson, while others protested the sentence, claiming it was too lenient.  

The trial will undoubtedly be remembered as a chilling chapter in Solna's history.” 

In the aftermath of the news coverage, the trial over and all involved ready to begin picking up the pieces, the internet community at large continued to voice opinion over the case.  

“Eighteen years??? For what they did, that’s fucked up!” 

“Apparently, eighteen years is all the prosecution were seeking, given that they couldn’t prove Lucas and Nils had premeditated the murder. Especially since the defence weighed so heavily on the fact that both of them were high as fuck on various drugs when they stabbed him to death.” 

“Oh, come on! Doesn’t matter how fucking high they were. Listen to their music, man. There are multiple references to human sacrifice. It was only a matter of time. They’re rotten, evil fucking scumbags. RIP Pieter.”  

“The news report saying they showed little emotion is a flat-out lie. I was there. Nils laughed, and Lucas smirked and threw up the horns, muttering ‘hail, my dark lord’ as he was taken away. They should be getting life. Neither are sorry for what they did to that poor guy.”  

“I used to know them really well way back in the day. Nils has always been somewhat dark underneath seeming like a good dude (sociopath?) but Lucas? I think Nils pulled him into it further, into the Satanism and the drugs. He was a nice guy, seriously. Yeah, he could be loud and chaotic, loved to party and have a good time, but half the shit about him out there is untrue.”  

“His ex-girlfriend who claimed he tried to stab her? Untrue. She was bitter because he left her for my friend Brigitte, and that’s the goddamned truth from Brigitte herself. She was just out for cash when she sold that story to the press! 

People saying he tortured animals, too? No fucking way. As soon as he ever arrived at my house, he’d crack open a beer and head straight for my pet rat’s cage, get them out and let them climb all over him and nest in his hair. He always loved animals. There was something really gentle about him in that way. He was such a good, nice guy. I hate what he ultimately became, though, because it isn’t him.” 

“Gentle?! Dude, fuck off. The man carved a fucking inverted pentagram into Pieter’s corpse and then painted his own body in Satanic sigils before threatening to murder everyone else at that house party. The guy is a fucking psycho. That’s who he is. It took four cops to bring him down after he and Nils left the house, running after that poor girl who escaped and called the police, trying to kill her, too. He fucking bit one of the officer’s ears off before they tazed the shit out of the douchebag.” 

Indeed, not many people could see past the horrific crimes of Lucas Borgström, regardless of opinions to the contrary. To many, he was nothing more than a cold-blooded murderer. A hardened drug addict hellbent on a path that ruined what was a very promising career, his band The Hanged once a huge name in the world of heavy metal.  

Even the band's most loyal fans were left grappling with the dissonance between the image of the charismatic, gregarious frontman they adored and the monster he became. His descent into darkness was a cautionary tale that reverberated through the heavy metal community, a stark reminder of how drugs and a toxic influence could warp a person beyond recognition.  

The trial and its aftermath left the band in shambles, their music equally tainted and exalted by the shadow of the drummer and frontman’s crimes. Friends and family who once cherished them were forced to reconcile with a gruesome reality, as debates raged on about the nature of evil and the depths to which a human being could sink.  

While Nils very much remained unrepentant for his part in it, though, Lucas was a different matter. Free of the often-overbearing influence of his bandmate and clean of the drugs that had served as nothing more than a fuel to his mental decline into true darkness, he began to seek a better path upon which to follow.  

“Do I feel guilt for what I did? Of course, I fucking do. Every day. Would I have done what I did if I hadn’t been out of my skull on drugs? I’d like to say probably not, y’know. That guy who murdered an innocent man, he isn’t the same person who is sitting here before you today. People are capable of change. Through incarceration, I’m at least trying to atone for what I did, become a better person.”  

Not many were willing to believe the words he gave when a journalist visited with him nine years into his sentence, not many at all. However, there was one woman who was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, though. One woman who the name Lucas Borgström meant something very different to how he was so commonly perceived.  

The finger clicking. Even over the reasonably loud thrum of rock music coming through the speakers placed at each corner of the shop, Erika could hear the persistent clicks, preceding the arrival of she who could never stand still unless she was working.  

“So, are we out tonight, are we drinking, are we dancing?” Nina, her beloved best friend and business partner asked in her usual rapid fire. She could never solely present one question, a ball of energy that seemed to never cease in its rotation, a live wire of a person who exuded the kind of energy that left people exhausted merely to witness.  

She was never loud with it, but god alive, how the energy sparked bright.  

Looking up to where the British expat danced around on the spot, fingers still clicking, Erika paused, giving her client a well-earned break. “I’ll come for one, but I’m pretty tired.”  

The energetic twitching immediately stilled. “One? Excuse me, one drink? Oh, you fucking blasphemer! How dare you say this in the presence of a Friday night, girly!” 

“I know, I know, however...” 

A loud snort sounded. “No! No however! Where has my fun-loving, hard drinking little playmate gone? One drink? What a load of bollocks!” 

Sighing, Erika dipped the tattoo machine needle into more black ink, returning it to the huge backpiece of a mandala she was working her way through. “To use your British-ism, bollocks it may be, but my liver needs a break, dude.”  

Nina rolled her eyes dramatically, muttering something unflattering about weak constitutions, but Erika’s focus had already shifted back to her work. The hum of the tattoo machine provided a meditative rhythm, almost hypnotic, as intricate dots formed the weaving patterns under her skilled hand.  

She couldn't help but smirk at Nina's antics; the woman was relentless, but it was part of her charm. Letting out a small chuckle, her thoughts briefly drifted to the pull of wild nights and reckless abandon, only to be tugged gently back to the present by the vibration of the machine in her grasp.  

The song on the rock radio station then changed, giving her another little jolt. The Sigils of Seven, the title track from the second album by The Hanged, one of her all-time favourite bands. She might have been a little biased since the guys all hailed from the same place as her, the municipality of Solm, but their musical talent truly did precede any hometown loyalty. 

That loyalty was a somewhat fractured, though, twelve years on from the crime that had shaken Stockholm to its core.  

“Man, I used to love these guys,” her client spoke, shaking his head. “I try and separate art from artist, but it’s hard in this case.” 

A still-present Nina pointed right at him. “You have that right, my man! Jesus wept, I swear my mouth couldn’t have hung open wider when I found out what they’d done to that poor bloke!”  

“Yeah, yeah,” he began in agreement, looking in her direction as she pulled up a chair to his side. “I sort of want to be lenient in what I think, because of all the drugs and shit, but fuck. They’re not good people. Fucking psychos. Lucas especially.” 

It was at that point Erika had to physically bite her tongue, because for her, she knew very much differently to the common opinion. Not for Nils, but for Lucas, she could attest with great surety that he was far from a psychopath. How? Because she had been writing to him for the last three years, that was how.  

It had wounded her deeply, back when the murder had taken place and he and his bandmate had been subsequently arrested and sentenced. To know that a musician she admired and looked up to so much was capable of that kind of depravity had genuinely shaken her, the same as it had for many of their other fans, too.  

She simply couldn’t believe it, that a man who seemed an utter delight to be in the company of, often boisterous and hilarious in interviews, famed for being nothing but friendly and welcoming to his fans, had taken such a fall from grace. Despite fairly common opinion, Satanists were not all dark and evil people, Lucas certainly seeming to be far from it, regardless of the very much darker lyrical content of the band’s second album. 

“Satanism, to me, it’s about being your own god, y’know, just be peaceful with it, be a good person to be good, not because some imaginary sky daddy is going to reward or punish me if I am or if I’m not.  I don’t have intentions to fucking make sacrifices to a dark lord, drink blood and chant, yadda, yadda, yadda. None of that shit. I’m not a theistic Satanist.  

“Read up on it, man. It goes against the tenets of Satanism, the very first to be exact. One should strive to act with compassion and empathy toward all creatures in accordance with reason. There it is, there’s my fucking answer.” 

Just fourteen months on from that interview, where he’d been nothing contrary to his usual upbeat, well-spoken self, and he’d descended into the kind of darkness that Erika had assumed there to be no emergence from.  

He had gone from a young man on a path to what he described as clarity of thought, and a conscious desire to uphold the beliefs taught through The Satanic Temple, to a fully blown theistic Satanist, a sect with much differing beliefs in that they truly believed Satan to be a deity in which to praise and appease.  

The Satanic Temple merely used Satan as a symbol of pride, liberty and individualism. They did not believe in his existence nor praise him as a deity, never promoting the worship of he who many coined as their dark lord.  

By the time he was arrested, covered in the blood of the man who he’d jointly stabbed to death, it was fair to say that Lucas very much believed there was a dark lord to be worshipped, and a sacrifice made to. As Erika knew well, it was a regret that still plagued him greatly. He never made excuses for it either.  

Yeah, I was bent out of shape on drugs, too many drugs, drinking too much, yadda, yadda, yadda. I still let myself go down that path though, Erika. Still got pulled in by the darkness of something I should have opened my fucking eyes over. I know people blame Nils for how I turned out, but I’m not brainless, y’know? I could have told him no, and I didn’t. I’m responsible for my actions, and I take it fully on board, what I did to Pieter. 

That was what he had stated in one of the first letters where he’d truly opened up to her. An interview had been conducted by a journalist for a magazine feature on Scandinavian metal and the many instances of musicians themselves committing horrific crimes, upon after reading Erika had felt compelled to reach out to Lucas. 

What she had witnessed was a man who took full responsibility for his crimes and was trying hard to put himself on a better path. There was honest remorse within him, a desire to atone, a drive to show people he was more than the hideous act of violence he had once committed.  

I let a lot of people down. My family, my mom, sister and brother especially, my grandparents, my friends, my band and my fans. When I finally get out, I want to prove that I’m capable of change, show that I took full advantage of the excellent rehabilitation I’ve been given so far over my sentence. 

I can’t say I’d ever blame people for not allowing me that chance, though. My relationship with my mother is strained to this day, I know that Jacob (Bjornsson, former rhythm guitarist for The Hanged) will never speak to me again, and I know that a huge part of our fanbase will never forgive me either. 

 There’s a lot of motherfucking shit out there that isn’t fucking true about me, but what is, that’s enough to blacken my name forever. And I completely accept that. I would, however, love to be given a chance to prove common opinion wrong. 

She didn’t expect to receive a reply at all initially, so had been truly stunned to see a letter in her post box from him just over a week after mailing hers. Three years had passed since, and because of the common consensus over the man, she hadn’t told a soul of their burgeoning friendship, a friendship that if she was honest, was now becoming something more. 

Much more. 

It would have been a lie if she’d said she hadn’t been hesitant to send him a photograph of her at his request, but his reply had certainly been worth it. As well as unbelievable that the man her teenage self had lusted after so heavily thought what he did about her. 

Your picture? Damn. I think I might need to be on blood pressure medication, because you just sent it through the roof. You are stunning, Erika. Unbelievably stunning! 

“What are you grinning about?”  

Nina’s sharp chirp immediately sent the little Lucas-centred daydream she’d fallen into shattering to smithereens. “We’re talking about a vile, unrepentant murderer and you’re there, smiling like a loon?” 

“He isn’t unrepentant.” Oh, shit. The words slipped from her mouth before she even had time to hang onto them for dear life.  

Nina cocked her head. “And how would you know? You don’t honestly believe that bullshit he said in the article a while back, do you?” Erika’s pause spoke volumes. “Oh, my life. You do, don’t you?” Further silence, which only spurred the cogs in Nina’s mind to begin revolving further, as if fuelling her interrogation. “Why do you suddenly look so uncomfortable, matey?” 

Shit, shit, shit! Nina never let something go, and fuck, if she didn’t always see through any of Erika’s facades to conceal the truth. “I’ll talk to you later. Could you be a doll and fetch me a soda? I’m so thirsty.” 

One hour on from then, while they sat down within the cosy confines of The Churchill Arms there in Vasastan, a favourite since it was a British-themed pub and thus reminded Nina of home, Erika knew her time was up.  

“Listen, I need to confide in you, about earlier,” she began, sipping her beer. “The reason I looked uncomfortable when we were discussing Lucas Borgström is because of something I’ve been hiding from you. From everyone, in fact.”  

Immediately, Nina felt the pull of unrevealed gossip taking a firm swipe at her curiosity. “Then tell me! What is it? Did you know him or something, before he was sent down?” She gasped, reaching to clutch her forearms. “Where you the girl he was dating before he was banged up? I know she went into hiding after it all happened, so it isn’t out of the realms of possibility!” 

Of course, she expected the barrage of questions. It was nothing if not Nina’s way.  “No, no. I wasn’t. I didn’t know him then, but I do now. We’ve been writing to one another for the last three years, talking on the phone as well.” 

Erika had never witnessed the colour drain from somebody’s face before, not even when her dad had almost split his foot in half after an ill-fated DIY project involving a lump hammer. Sure enough, though, she saw it then, Nina losing the usual blush from her cheeks.  

“Why... why, why, why the hell are you communicating with a bloody murderer, mate? Why? And more than that, well, no. I don’t have more. Just why!”  

She expected it, the shock that seemed to be speeding through her friend like an out-of-control F1 vehicle. “Because after reading that interview he gave, the one you denounced as bullshit, I just felt compelled to, I dunno,” she began, shrugging as Nina’s intense gaze of disbelief prickled at her. “I was always a huge fan of his until the murder. Reading his words, though, I believed him, and I was right to. Honestly, dude. He’s not the same guy.”  

If aghast had a face, in that moment it was Nina Bennett. “How do you even know that, though? Bloody, bloody, bloody hell! Written letters and phone calls aren’t a marker for somebody’s true nature! He might just be playing you!” 

“For what end?” she asked, frowning a little. 

“I don’t flippin’ know, I’m not him! I’m not a murdering psychopath!” she spluttered, small droplets of her vodka and soda flecking the table. “All I know is that a man who contributed to murdering somebody via thirty-nine stab wounds, who then went on to carve an inverted pentagram on his victim’s chest, painted himself in his blood and then rucked with the coppers who turned up to arrest him is bad news!” 

Erika could feel herself winding tight, but pushed it down. In that moment, she chose to channel a little bit of Lucas, a man who had taught her that in the face of adversity, remaining calm was the best way to get your point across. If only Nina could actually speak to him, to see if for herself, how he wasn’t the same man any longer.  

“I think it’s fair to say that the mental clarity of somebody high on the cocktail of drugs he was, well, it was severely compromised.” Amphetamine, cocaine, PCP and alcohol were found in his system, according to the reports she’d read. How he was even able to stand up, let alone stab somebody to death was beyond her. “But he still makes no excuses for it. If he was truly as rotten to his core as many say that he is, surely, he wouldn’t be so admitting of that?” 

Her sweet Erika; she always saw the good in people first. It was something Nina cherished dearly about her friend, but in this instance saw as a huge red flag. “Ever thought it might be a facade, simply to get early release, be let out and then go on another rampage?” 

“No, no,” she replied staunchly, “because why would he choose incarceration all over again, doll? That’s just silly. He truly wants to make amends. Listen, he’s lost almost twelve years of his life. In fact, it actually is twelve years now if you count the time they were locked up prior to the case coming to trial. All he wants is to be free, see if he can resurrect his career and carry on with his life. He says that he expects people not to give him that chance, though, and he wouldn’t blame them if they don’t.” 

Her words were quite fair, Nina had to concede. It still left an unpleasant feeling creeping through her tummy, though. “So, have you ever been down to visit him, then?”  

It wasn’t out of the realms of possibility that she could, with Anstalten Hall prison being only a half hour drive away from Vasastan. “Not yet, no. It’s taken a while for us to build up the kind of trust and rapport with each other where I would actually want to meet him in the flesh, plus he was hesitant as well. He kept a lot of his visitations open for his mom to go and see him, but she never has. She’s too upset, still.” 

Nina nodded. “As any mother would be, yeah.” 

“However, he’s put me on his visitors list and I’m all set to go and meet him for the first time next week. I’m really looking forward to it, although I’m nervous as shit about it.” 

More nods followed. “As anyone would be, sitting across from a convicted murderer.” 

“No, no. It isn’t because of what he did,” she stated, her hand moving to her ponytail, beginning to weave her locks around her index finger. “It’s because... well...” Biting her lip, she looked out from beneath her lashes, taking a deep breath. “I like him, Nina. As in, more than a friend, like him. And it’s mutual. We have a connection; we really trust and respect one another.  

“Also, they don’t censor letters or phone calls, and so it’s fair to say things have begun to become a little flirty over the last few months, too. Well, flirty is putting it mildly. Sometimes, it’s downright spicy.”  

Watching her friend’s face fall, she knew revealing such wouldn’t be met with Nina’s usual sunshine. “Oh god, mate.” Reaching for her hands, she squeezed them, a line of concern pinching her brows tightly. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I really, really do. Look, I trust you, but I don’t trust him. I’m sorry, but I don’t. Also, where can this go? Are you prepared to wait for him for another six years?” 

“It might not be that long,” she revealed, “since a lot of prisoners are given early release if they’ve behaved well inside. I looked it up, it’s usually after two thirds of their time served. He mentioned the other day that it might be a reality for him, but he wasn’t certain just yet.” 

“Well, if it is, I think you should tread cautiously. Get to know him as a person on the outside before you go all in with him. Really, you have to be careful. He ain’t just some petty criminal; he’s a fucking murderer.”  

She crinkled her nose then, sighing, looking pained as she stroked Erika’s hands with her thumbs. “I have to admit it though, mate. It’s at odds with the desire in me as your bestie to get excited with you, because I can see it in you, that you’re over there having an “I like a guy” moment. I’m just scared because of who the guy is.”  

She paused, grimacing a little. “And regardless of that, I see it, the attraction. He is gorgeous, and insanely talented, but I feel bad saying that! I want to ask you things as well, have a good ole’ girly gossip, but it keeps hitting me that I shouldn’t because I don’t want to encourage something I’m not really on board with!” 

“Then ask me,” Erika stated simply, shrugging, releasing one of her hands to pick up her beer and take another swig. “Listen, people are multi-faceted, aren’t they? There’s a lot more to who Lucas is than the crime he committed. Much more. You’re not a bad person for wanting to hear things, just like I’m not a bad person for giving the man a chance.” 

Indecision seemed to continue coiling through the blonde-haired Brit, Nina holding up a finger and rising from her seat. A few minutes passed before she returned with another round, plus two shots on the tray she held.  

“I said I was only staying for one,” Erika moaned, although it was through a little smile. 

“Bollocks,” Nina huffed, taking the vodka soda, beer and two shots of tequila from the tray and placing them down. “You’re about to tell me about all the horny stuff you’re discussing with a bloody convict. I need another drink, so that means you do, too.” Lifting the shot glass, she clinked it against Erika’s, widening her eyes. “Bottoms up!”  

Once the shots were sunk, Nina cleared the glasses to the side of the table, drumming her hands off it rhythmically. “So, tell me. How’s the flirting been? What’s been said?” 

“You know, this and that,” she began, snorting with laughter at the eye roll she was given. Unless a little drunk, though, Erika wasn’t one to be overly brash or crude. Drunk Erika, though? She was a different animal. “Okay so he said that when I first sent him a picture of him, he had to go off and have a cold shower. One that didn’t solely extend to the purposes of washing.” 

“So, you’re the man’s wank fodder then, is what you’re telling me?” 

“Oh, yeah,” she revealed, snorting with laughter. “Apparently lots of girls have sent pictures to him, loads of letters basically hero praising him, but none of them stood out like I did. That was months before he even saw my picture, too. He said if he was free, he’d be dating me in a heartbeat. And, well... he said I shouldn’t make any plans once he’s released, because he’s going to need to take me to bed for at least a day.” 

Nina’s eyebrows rose immediately. “Well, yeah. The man has been like a monk for the last twelve years. Your poor little fanny is going to get a right battering!” She then regained a little of her reservation, pointing across the table. “I meant it though, that you shouldn’t go all in with him. So maybe don’t jump into bed with him right away and spend that day shagging like rabbits, hmm?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe. I dunno,” she hummed, finishing her beer and pulling the fresh glass closer to sip the foamy head. “Oh fuck, he made me laugh so much, though. He said not to expect anything too much from him because of course, it’s been twelve years since he last had sex. But, and I quote, he said I could expect to receive the greatest twenty seconds of my life the first time!” 

Nina couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from her, hearing that. That little slice of very non-egotistical humour somewhat soothed her fears, although she knew beneath it, her concern for her friend and this man would continue to linger. “At least the bloke’s honest!” 

Truly, he’d been nothing but with her. Their conversation moved on, Erika staying for a third drink before she made her excuses and went home, Nina deciding to hook up with some other friends who were more inclined to make a night of it.  

Once back within her small, yet charming bungalow home, the first thing she did was check her post box, delighted to see a letter within from the object of her rapidly growing affections. Taking a shower and dressing in a comfy lounge set, she settled in with a cup of tea, ready to read.  

Hi beautiful! 

Fuck, I’m bored. Can’t leave my cell as the prison is on lockdown right now. A kid got shanked, survived it luckily but there’ve been going from cell to cell doing weapons searches. They just searched mine about a half hour ago, and we won’t be allowed to roam around until they’re done.  

Sometimes, I almost forget that it’s a prison until things like this happen. Like I’ve explained to you before, unlike so many other prison systems around the world, we’re treated really fairly in here. No dark cells, few liberties taken, yadda, yadda, yadda. We have it lucky. I don’t get why the young guys coming in here wanna rock the boat like that. They should just put their motherfucking heads down and do their time, y’know? All this gang bullshit is fucked.  

Anyway, how are you? How did it go with that client who kept cancelling, how did she take it that you were still charging for your time? I’m proud of you that you took my advice there. I know you’re tough and you stand up for yourself, and I really like that about you, but yeah, you definitely need to extend it more to people thinking they can cancel on you last minute. It’s disrespectful to waste your time like that. You have bills to pay!  

I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to your visit. It’s been a long time in the coming, hasn’t it? I really appreciate you so much, Erika, probably more than you know. You’ve been such a guiding light to me on my journey over the past three years. And, well, a source of my hands to continue wandering... Fuck, I thought I knew horny before I saw you. Twelve years of pent-up sexual frustrations, while knowing I (hopefully?) have you to come out to? It’s wearing my patience a little thin, hah! 

Anyway, that aside, Alex visited me two days ago. He played me some rough drafts of the songs he’s been working on. The guy did a fucking killer job with it all! Just him on his own, okay so he isn’t going to play everything like I would on bass, like Jacob would (but as you know, that door is firmly closed) or like Nils would drum, but he had the vibe down, y’know?  

He was telling me too that he wrote to Nils again recently and finally got a reply. I know he didn’t take to prison or the rehabilitative nature of it quite as easily as I eventually did, but Alex tells me he’s doing well. He’s finally come out and said he isn’t proud of what he did and that he wants to move past it all, that he’s been making a serious effort to be better, too. That pleased me.  

I thought for so long he was lost to that darkness we both found ourselves in, and it made me feel bad for him. I didn’t want him to be stuck in that place, y’know, and he was for so, so long. I guess maturity has to hit us all at some point, it just took him a few years longer to come to terms with it all and actually arrive there.  

Anyway, I’ll leave it here, so I have things to talk to you about when you visit. Did I mention that I can’t wait?? Hah! 

Be safe, 

Lucas. 

Her heart fluttered more and more with every word that passed, reading his usual geniality, his humour, his enthusiasm for his music. He couldn’t wait to meet her, and neither could she. 

The next five days would be the longest wait ever, but for him, it was worth it. 

A/N - Did you like what you just read? If so, please reward your author with a little comment or a reblog. Your support would mean so much to me!

Next Chapter

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

OMG! I’m so happy for you, 5K is so exciting and you deserve it so much. I (live laugh) loveeeeeee your writing style so so so so much and I’ve just about read every fic you’ve made like 30 times over. I have an idea for a Soap nsfw fic that I’ve been wanting to submit since I found your account and I think this is the perfect time.

Rivals to lovers? Soap and reader were cadets together during their training/pre-selection days of the SAS, they were both top of their “class” and would often try to one up one another? Despite that, they would have one another’s backs. Eventually, after SAS selection, they parted ways and maybe a few years later (just after the events of MW2 2022) they reconnect as they’re both assigned to a mission. Sexual tensions high after years of not seeing each other? and goes sideways and they have to end up staying at a safe house (One bed trope?) and then things escalate from there?

Thank you for opening your requests for this momentous occasion! I’m so so happy for you and I’m so so excited for the next work you put out!

—Still The Same Fools

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [There was always a rivalry between you two - that hasn't changed even if both of you have. Years later, the boiling point is finally met.] ❞

“I told you it was a bad idea,” you tilt your head, tightly wrapping your left thigh; bandages you pull harder, grunting as the flow of blood slows. 

The safehouse is cold—and it’s snowing outside worse than a shaken snow globe on a massage chair, flakes as big as your hand slapping the window. 

Johnny’s trying to start a fire, shoulders all wound up as you stare at his tension-ridden back. 

“MacTavish,” you call, glaring. “I’m talking to you.”

“Aye,” he grunts, flicking his lighter three times before the smallest of flames sparks up—he quickly moves it to the dry logs, letting it take to the kindling. “I have ears.”

You grimace, shaking your head. 

The history between the two of you was long—dating back to the days when you’d both signed up. You’d bled together, failed, and won together, even if the tensions were visible in the air as much as the long glances were. SAS selection had been the point where your clashing attitudes had been put on pause; things were getting more serious now—there was no going back. Only a year in you’d both seen the last of each other.

Or, you thought that at least.

A mission—Norway during a blizzard. Full coverage and the means of a Capture-Or-Kill.

“You want to explain to me why you still decided to rush in like that?” You push, voice digging. 

The room was weighed down by heat—not from the now sizzling fire itself but from the stiff look that’s passed your way. You blink, Soap’s blue eyes darker than they had been. With a low grunt, the usually sarcastic and blunt man stands, beginning to stalk over with hard steps. Bodies layered with sweat and grime, you release the shreds of the bandages around your bare thigh; pants half down your legs. 

Frowning, you ignore the soar in your heart rate and let him move up to the rickety chair you sit in, his hands coming down to lean into the armrests on either side of you. 

You hold back a gasp as his face is shoved into yours.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he utters, accent stiff, and both of your eyes battling one another for dominance that neither wants to give up. Two feral wolves at each other’s throats. “Maybe it was to make sure the old Hen of mine didn’t get herself killed.”

You snap back immediately, faces closer and breath puffing over skin. “You don’t trust me?”

“Never said that,” he grunts, stubble shifting into a frown.

You scoff, nose brushing against his as heads tilt. “Prove it. Because right now, I’m hearing a lot of bullshi—”

Lips smash into yours.

The affair that night was a rabid tangle of shed clothes and loose limbs, bare skin bloody and sweat-stained long before any action had even been taken. The wound at your thigh was of little concern as the fast shove of Johnny’s pelvis sent his cock dragging along the walls of your cunt. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, head tilting back to connect with the floor as the fire spreads light over the safehouse. “God, right there. Right there, Johnny.”

Your legs tighten around his waist, a thin stream of crimson moving down your flesh as the sound of slapping wet skin echoes over and over again. Like a loyal dog, the man smirks into your neck as he bites, sucking and groaning all the more as you tighten around him with a shiver of electricity working its way down your spine straight to your core.

You whine as he grabs your chin, glaring weakly until your glossy eyes blur the space behind his head.

“Like that, do you?” He teases, hand firm and unyielding. “Tell me you like it, Dearie.”

“Go,” you pant, fingers digging into his mohawk and pulling. Johnny’s blown pupils widen even farther, hips thrusting harder and making you moan in his hold—him doing the same, with a more cut-off version that would make a pornstar blush. You force out, “screw yourself.”

He feels you tighten even farther around him, his jaw clenching as his abdomen bunches, trying to hold off his approaching orgasm. 

“I think I’m enjoying this more, see,” he sloppily kisses the side of your mouth, licking at the skin. Everything about this was pent-up lust—messy sex in both the literal and metaphorical sense. 

His tip caresses your womb, pulling almost all the way out of you before jerking forward and grinding moments after. His pelvis massages your clit, textured walls like a noose trying to keep him in. Your fluids leak out to coat his thighs a nice shiny clear. Muscles glide over yours, the dip and swell of flesh addictive. 

A growl is sent into your face. 

“Pull my hair again.” You do so, listening to the animalistic groans as your body moves up and down on the floor, cutting off exhalations of air puffing out from open mouths.

“Harder,” your gasp, “fuck me harder, Sergeant.”

A hand slams into the wood beside your head, the other moving to press into your stomach. You nearly cry when you can feel his cock hammering against the thin flesh of your abdomen. 

You tighten around him and arch your back, lips brushing against his as you strangle down a loud plea for release. Your fingers latch and twist Johnny’s head to the side as the cord in your snaps.

“Fuck,” Johnny draws out the curse, eyes rolling back as you bare down on him ruthlessly, thighs tense and stained with blood and cum as your orgasm seeps violently down the swell of them. 

He follows with a loud gasp, letting you feel the gush of his spend as it fills you to the brim, leaking out with every failing cant of his hips into yours.

The man loosens and lets his limp head hit your shoulder, body shaking as he stays above you only enough to keep his full weight from crushing you. It’s a long time before either of you find the words to speak.

“Round two?” Johnny asks. 

You blink and feel the small sparks of pain in your thigh. It was nothing serious.

“Yeah,” you shrug, voice breathless and cunt spasming. “Why not.”

[whalesforhands]

cat ears and photographs 2

warnings: 18+ rating, self-explanatory title, i use the word ‘womb’ once, context to this fic is below

KOFI dyf aftermath cat ears and photographs (1.6k, light nsfw, title speaks for itself i cannot defend myself any longer)

You would think having to deal with Gojo Satoru is bad. He’s pushy, pouty— All too ready to hug his arms around you and grapple himself to your legs whenever you have to leave him for even the shortest time periods as you struggle to get him off.

“Pleasseeeeeee? Just one pictureeeeee!” He begs, hugging your waist and his chin resting on your tummy as he kneels on the ground, blindfold pushed up to reveal pleading, sparkly blue as the cosplay sits prettily on the bed.

What most don’t know, however… Is that Geto Suguru is infinitely worse. 

It was with time that you learned about their individual tastes. Satoru having a leaning towards things on the cuter side, frilly bows, soft tulle and intricate lace that would decorate your body in sweet ways. Always delicate and soft-looking, sugary sweet with colours so rich and highlighting your eyes so perfectly, made your skin a beautiful canvas— It was made just for you.

Thoroughly juxtaposed by the filthier things your shared husband liked just a little too much. And while Satoru teased and purred sweet nothings into your ears, Suguru was the type to go through with all his lewd thoughts as his mouth started to spill over with the crudest whispers disguised as praises.

“See? It wasn’t so hard, was it?” It’s a breathy whisper into your ear, his warm fingers teasing and lightly tapping against the peaks of your nipples, his tongue licking over the fresh bites upon your neck and the words that decorated your skin. 

“And you look so pretty, don’t you?” A kiss to your cheek, a jingle of the bell upon your collar and the  image of your thoroughly fucked out self shining upon his phone in this dark, cold room. You hear yourself whine, hear yourself trying to babble something incoherent as your head leans back against his shoulder.

“Oh? Aren’t you going to say anything?” A smirk in his voice, a croon in his tone that was having too much fun teasing your dizzy self. “Was taking it all too much for you, after all?”

The skin of your thighs thoroughly soaked by combined spend, the heat of him on your skin and the burn of pleasure you could swear was still making your eyes cross as you try to calm from the aftermath of your session; try to get ahold of your brain before it all truly melts away into another mindless puddle as you feel the blanket flutter atop of you.

“I-I… Suguru…” You don’t remember Suguru having a taste for this kind of thing. Never thought he would even be into this in the first place. 

(Was it not supposed to be a funny joke between the three of you?)

So why did these cat ears end up on top of your head once again…? 

“Hmm?” You can feel his hands trailing down your naked skin, can feel how he’s squeezing and stroking all that’s exposed to him. “What is it, darling?”

Save for the thigh-highs on your legs and the collar on your neck— The only thing that served as coverage were his… Hands. His hands that gripped each of your breasts, large palms hiding away the lewd sight of your cum covered nipples with your face a blanked out mess in just one of the many photos flickering past your eyes.

Not to mention the neat, telltale handwriting of a certain someone. Upon your skin, alongside his lingering handprints, beside the marks of teeth and sweet kisses he had made and positioned just above your womb—

Was his name, written elegantly in his kanji with all its intricate strokes. It was something personal, a show of slight revenge for Satoru’s slew of lewd photos during a slow day of work, where in which Suguru ended up having to cover for more paperwork than necessary due to a certain someone who was adamant on avoiding it.

And you admit, it would’ve been a good idea, would’ve been a stellar show of what Satoru could have been in on— Had it not been for the fact that you have to be punished too.

Forget what you said about being nude having the potential to be less intimidating. Forget thinking only Satoru would be able to make you regret ever giving in to him.

Because you think you have reached new heights of shame.

“Aren’t you such a good kitty?” It’s purred out, a hand stroking your head as you’re inbetween his thighs, your lips swallowing his tip and flicking the slit with your tongue. You can taste him in your mouth, can feel the way he’s holding you back from taking the entire length—

Your thighs are starting to shake beneath you, as you plead with your eyes, the tears that were starting to form from frustration of not being able to take it in its entirety taking a toll on your willpower.

“Why don’t you— Hnghhh… Fuck-“ The camera starts to shake slightly, sweat starting to form on his skin when you see the tremble of his lip despite the glare of the camera lenses. “Really show Satoru— Wh-what he’s missing out— Hah… On?”

You think that was your cue, at least. until he pulls out, tapping the wet tip against your lips as you feel warm spurts, your eyes closing subconsciously as your tongue is stuck out to gather as much as possible before it went to waste.

A pat of your head, the drooling remnants of his sperm decorating your face in lewd debauchery as it dripped down your skin and trailed down your body. It feels… Hot, felt like it was singeing into your flesh— Though not enough to overwhelm your embarrassment at your next move.

“N-nya…” It’s too shy. Barely even audible. Yet, it was enough to satisfy your sadistic husband as the phone camera is soon tossed aside in favour of leaning downwards to capture your soiled lips in a kiss.

Maybe you’re some sort of secret masochist for even agreeing to this. 

——

Gojo Satoru is one to like teasing. Call it a remnant from his childhood, or maybe even something that attributed to his confidence that could easily be mistaken for narcissism— But he quite likes the smugness that came with his oozing irritability.

Though, he’s never sure how to react when the tables are turned on him.

It’s only been message after message— His phone still in his shaky hand and his blindfold clenched tightly between his teeth to serve as a makeshift gag to muffle his strained moans as he hides away…

In the Jujutsu High teacher’s bathroom of all places.

It’s not an ideal place, it really isn’t. Not when Nanami and Haibara are just outside, waiting a room’s length away for him to come back just so that they could continue some meeting for— Wha? What was it again? Fuck.

He swears he could’ve remembered— Could have, had it not been for the way his brain was so focused on rewatching the one video Suguru had sent, so focused on pinching the screen to zoom in on the way the both of you looked so shameless and wanton in the— Three photos that Suguru had so graciously sent.

Come home soon, Satoru.

Damn him. Damn every dirty idea that ended up backfiring on the so-called 'strongest' sorcerer. The way he could see Suguru’s name scribbled on your skin, can see how the ink was starting to splay out and sweat as it was smeared by… An unknown liquid. It was dirty, filthy. He can see the way Suguru’s muscled thighs were around you, can see your fingers sinking into their plushy muscly goodness— He doesn't even know if he's thinking coherently anymore once he sees the reflection of the cat ears upon both on your heads and the bell collars from a cleverly positioned mirror selfie as Suguru’s hand held your hips up, a pathetic moan choked out of him and the painful throbbing in his pants.

This is a sick, sick revenge plot. 

And it turned him on so fucking much. His cock was aching when he finally fished it out of his pants, his skin burning hot and begging to be relieved as shiny blue eyes glued onto his phone’s screen.

He isn’t sure how many times he’s saved the images and video— Doesn’t know how long he’s been stroking his length in this bathroom for, but he does know he has to get home, has to come feel the relief of the both of you fucking him silly and making him regret this idea so that he doesn’t have to pathetically rub his cock in a school bathroom like he did as a horny teenager—

“Gojoooooo-senpai? Kento wanted to know whether you’re dying from diarrhea in here!” 

Haibara.

“Yea— I’m fine.” It’s choked, like he was struggling to spit out those struggling words, his breaths are uneven, pants heavy and the air smelled strangely... Musty?

“Are ya sure, Gojo-senpai?” Dress shoes clacking against the tiled floor and getting closer, a hand knocking against the occupied stall. “Ya don’t sound very well, should I tell Kento?”

“No—“ Wait. Yes. Yes, he should. Thank you, Haibara! “Actually, yea— My tummy hurts. At— Ate a little too many sweets, Haibara…!” 

“Aaah! I knew I shouldn’t have bought so many desserts back from Yokohama!” 

Work can be finished another day.

Outtakes:

“Hmm… I went a little far, didn’t I?” Your thighs are still shaking as you’re slumped forwards, your ass still raised as cum starts to leak out of you, your hole clenching as you struggle keep upright, holding the position only for just that little while longer before falling face first into the sheets of your shared bed.

“My… Everything hurts…” It’s a pathetic whimper, the cat ears on your head lopsided and messing up your hair, your thighs shaking and sweat making the sheets stick to your skin in gross, wet feeling.

“I’ll take care of you.” Your head being lifted off the bed as you feel an arm tucking itself under your knees, another supporting your neck into a princess carry. “I’m sorry, darling.”

You forgive him—

“…but do you think we can take one more picture with the ears on?”

[whumpbug]

whumperless whump event day 5: stealing my breath (give it back) @whumperless-whump-event

wheezing / light-headed

see this post for character information!

caretaker: Cassidy

whumpee: Gene

genuinely decided while writing this about gene having asthma. it flares up in situations like this or when he's sick. Good Whump Content......

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Sometimes, Gene wondered how people lived before having horses.

This sucked.

He silently cursed Sheriff Caufield for being the lazy bastard he was.

Gene was responsible for tracking down and arresting some members of Montana’s gang that had robbed a train car about 2 days ago. Rumor had it that the gang splintered off in order to hide, and were going to regroup in just a week. That meant it was now or never to try and find some of the more notorious offenders and lock them up for good.

The trouble was that the particular lead Gene had been sent to follow was up a complicated and winding mountain trail.

Now, Calliope was a very well trained and easy-going horse. That did not mean that she was scare-proof. If something startled her up there on the trail, and she bucked Gene off, the chance of him falling right down the side of the mountain was too high for comfort. 

So, he was forced to foot it up the steep trail.

And it was miserable.

Gene considered himself a fit man. He sort of had to be, with his line of work and all. Still, he was not this fit and he felt seconds away from toppling over on this damn hike.

One foot in front of the other. Come on, Delaney.

He used a stray root as a handle and hoisted himself up over a small ledge for what felt like the millionth time. He started to wonder if he was even going the right way.

He stole a quick glance at the sun and saw that it had hardly moved from the last time he checked.

He groaned.

Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to sit for a few moments. The smoke trail he’d been following had been steadily growing closer. If he rested now, he’d probably feel right as rain once he barged into the makeshift camp, and he’d probably perform a whole lot better too.

Without giving it too much more thought, he plunked down against a large rock to give himself some semblance of coverage, tilting his head back and trying to catch his breath.

Apparently, it was easier said than done.

Unfortunately, the unceremonious way he lowered himself to the ground kicked up dust all around him, and it was quickly becoming harder and harder to breathe around the particles.

Also, for some reason, his panting wasn’t seeming to slow down. On the contrary, his breathing only seemed to become more erratic.

He suddenly paled when a thought crossed his mind.

When he was a little boy, he remembered being rushed to the doctor after he caught a cold once. He had been struggling to breathe, and his mother didn’t know what else to do.

The doctor had told them that it had been something called an asthma attack. He said that Gene would likely outgrow it, but to be careful, because under the right circumstances, he could always relapse.

This sure as hell seemed like the "right circumstances". 

Gene scrambled to sit up, thumping at his chest with a fist in an attempt to get some air.  Strangled coughs left his mouth, returning as grating wheezes. He would have cursed if he could. 

He tried to cough again, he tried to do anything that would open his airways somehow, but it was no use. It felt like he was breathing through a straw-- like his body was simply going through the motions of inhaling without taking in any air.

He silently wondered if this was how he was going to die. There was no one around for miles except the very group of people that wanted him dead. The odds didn’t seem to be in his favor.

Still, he struggled valiantly for oxygen as black dots danced around his vision. He suddenly felt the strange sensation of his entire body tingling. He wheezed harder.

••••

“I’m gonna go check if there's anything useful down the mountain. I ain't gonna be far. Holler if you hear anything,” Cassidy called out, tucking his revolver into his hip holster and beginning down the rough trail.

The gang’s current situation was… less than ideal. The train job had gone south, and Montana made the quick decision to have everyone split up.

Cassidy ended up with mostly the women and children. He supposed Montana wanted someone he trusted with the less skilled gunslingers.

That was Montana; always thinking two steps ahead. If he trusted Cassidy enough to take care of all these people, then by God he was gonna do it.

And that started with investigating the strange sound coming from down the trail.

Cassidy hadn’t said anything earlier. He didn’t want to scare the little ones, but he was quite certain there was a dying bobcat or coyote or something just a few minutes down, and there was no way in hell he was gonna let it near his camp.

He carefully skidded down a ledge and hopped onto a little patch of dirt. The sound was getting louder now, and he reached a hand down to his hip.

He whipped out his gun as he rounded the corner, aiming it towards the sound and--

In front of him was, in fact, not a dying animal, but the last person Cassidy had expected (or wanted) to see.

And something was very wrong.

Gene was leaned back against a rock, hands clutching frantically at his chest. His eyes were wide and panicked, blinking rapidly as if trying to clear his vision. The worst part, though, were the sickly wheezes and gasps that left him. His lips were tinged pale blue as he fought for every breath he took.

“Shit, Delaney,” Cassidy hissed, crashing to his knees beside the deputy. Deft hands quickly unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt as Cassidy yanked him up to a sitting position.

Cassidy knew what this was. He was no stranger to these kinds of attacks. One of the younger boys in the gang had severe asthma as well. Cassidy was in charge of periodically stealing asthma cigarettes from the doctor when they went into town and--

Right. The box must be at camp.

“Alright, stay right here. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Gene’s eyes flashed with fear, a plea of “don’t leave me.” Another high-pitched wheeze escaped his lips, almost sounding like a word.

“S’lver,” Gene managed, trying to grab at his wrist.

“I know, I know. I’m gonna help. I ain’t gonna leave you. Just gimme a second, would ya?” He huffed, before sprinting away.

Ms. Holly, one of the mothers at camp, stepped forward when she saw Cassidy running to her tent like a maniac.

“Now just what exactly did you see out there-- what are you doing going through my boy’s stuff?!”

“Can’t talk,” was all Cassidy could manage before emerging with the box of cigarettes.

Her further questions were cut off by Cassidy bolting out and back down the mountain.

“Now what in the hell was that about?” She murmured.

Cassidy practically flew down the mountain this time, not caring about watching his step. He found Gene easily, but noted with horror that his wheezes were quieter now-- they were weaker. 

“You’re gonna owe me big time, cowboy,” Cassidy remarked, sparking up his lighter and lighting one of the medicated cigarettes.

Gene was flagging now, eyes glassy and unfocused. He hardly even reacted to Cassidy kneeling beside him and propping him up once again.

Cassidy carefully pressed the cigarette to Gene’s lips, stabilizing him with a gentle hand on his chest.

“C’mon, y’damn idiot, you gotta puff,” Cassidy urged, patting Gene’s chest lightly.

Gene coughed slightly, and attempted to do as he was told. He took a small, sputtering drag of the cigarette, coughing at the bitter taste of the smoke.

“Good, that’s real good. I know it tastes as foul as sin, but it’ll help you. Just keep goin’” Cassidy soothed, his voice surprisingly gentle.

After a few more choked drags from the cigarettes, the color began to return to Gene’s face. He was still wheezing, but he felt like he was actually taking some air in instead of just spasming. 

Cassidy hadn’t noticed that his hand was rubbing up and down the deputy’s spine the entire time.

When Gene's airways finally opened up enough to take a full breath, he collapsed listlessly against Cassidy, panting for sweet oxygen. He looked utterly spent.

“S’lver,” He coughed, reaching up to catch his wrist. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it." His eyes flitted up in the direction of the camp. "I assume this means you’ll turn a blind eye to this?”

Gene nodded, letting his eyes fall shut. He didn’t give a damn what the sheriff would say, he was just grateful to be alive.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

[lexa-griffins]

How’s MILF Lexa doing these days? Reading your DILF Clarke fic made me re-read MILF Lexa and now I miss her 😂 and flirty confident neighbor Clarke

She is... tired 😂 summer is always a little chaotic for her, both kids at home and as a private school teacher Lexa is forced to do some workshops to keep the teaching standards "high" with people that think just because they are primary school teachers they dont have a damn degree to be doing this and its so damn hot and those two teens want to have the tv to themselves and then there's fighting and Delilah complaining she feels so hot in her black clothes but refusing to wear lighter ones, and Alex is at that teen boy stage where he smells gross and wears so much axe body spray after soccer practice and Lexa has a constant headache.

But with Clarke right next door, summer is more bearable, really. She tells Lexa she'll take the kids for ice cream so she can have a break from the noise, her and Clarke have taken to chatting from their fairly close together balconies in the late afternoon, and its nice, Clarke is fun and sarcastic and makes Lexa laugh at the dumbest stuff whilw throwing in a little flirty lines that always make her blush and blame the hot sun for it.

And there's this one day thats just so damn hot that Lexa manages to being the kids old kiddy pool to the balcony and fill it with water so her teens can chill there for the afternoon, and with the sense of security of her own home Lexa even puts on the older bikini that's been stuff at the back of her wardrobe and that she hasn't worn since before getting pregnant with Delilah and yes, its a little to tight around her hips and most definitely covers nothing of her ass and its over all much more skimpy than she'd like but being in her own balcony makes her feel more opened to wearing it..... she failed to see Clarke with a hand held fan sitting and drinking some cold beer in her balcony right next to Lexa's, and sksnzodjd the kids are saying "Hi Clarke!" and asking her questions but little bi brain has absolutely been burnt to a crisp by the hot sun and the hot older mom in a tiny bikini sjsnskd

Lexa doesn't want to be rude and run inside for more coverage but as Lexa sits on her little chair reading while the kids complain about not having a real pool and how "mom's apartment complex has a pool!!", she tries her best to avoid eye contact with Clarke because she saw the way Clarke looked at her and she feels both embarrassed by Clarke seeing her this undressed (and with all the insecurities Lexa has about her body) and very very thrilled that she seems to so clearly have made Clarke forget how to talk by seeing her like this. Like hmmm, maybe, maybe Lexa still got it 😌

[olderjodijournals]

Wednesday, November 20, 1991

 

Today I felt lousy all day, but I’m feeling better now. It’s nighttime, so what do you expect? I think it’s due to the very drastic change in temperature. It was a record high of 70° today. Can you believe that? On November 20th?! Just the other day I had to wear gloves as well as a warm coat. Speaking of coats, I’ll have to get a winter coat somehow. All I have is my suede fringed jacket. Also, some very light coats that just don’t cut it when it’s very cold.

At 11:30 tomorrow morning I’ve got to see Dr. Leitch. I’m going to need Theodur and Alupent refills.

I better get my ass on schedule as I have got lots of things coming up soon. From Nov. 25-29 I’ll be in Salem checking out apartments. Kim’s gonna bring me down and they’ll bring me back.

I spoke to Tammy earlier who now says Mom and Dad can’t afford to move me as their store’s gone under due to the poor economy. Also, Dad’s medical bills are sky-high and he’s only got partial coverage. I don’t know if I buy any of that, but maybe there’s a slight grain of truth to it. I really feel it has more to do with the phone calls, court and everything else that’s gone on in my life. What can I say or do? I just hope and pray to God that Tammy or any other curious people never get a hold of any of my journals without me knowing it. Tammy could, of course, read them with me knowing it. I’m more solid than her but all she’d have to do is just sit on me and read away since the girl’s nearly 200 pounds. The bulk of the stuff in these books is known to all who know me. Yet my personal private fantasies along with other subjects are my business unless I so choose to share them. Of course, I just couldn’t stick to my story in the previous journal. I always lose patience, but I have other ideas I may work out. The last half of journal 18 will be for lyrics, phone numbers, personal notes or ideas, and letters. Anything goes kind of deal.

Andy read me the funniest letter for Jenny he’s fixing to send her. I typed it last night as he read it to me over the phone. Talk about us mixing lines, lyrics, and sentences up! He did an awesome job and Jenny will be so damn confused. I don’t give a rat’s ass if she suspects me as there’s nothing threatening. Just very very very strange. I’ll copy it over in 18 soon.

Just to mention my November and December schedule so far… On November 25th I was supposed to meet with a therapist named Cassandra, but since I’ll be in CT, I’ll have to reschedule. December 2nd, I have to go to fuel assistance. December 5th to court to see my probation officer Sheila, who Mark says is pretty. Friday, Peter’s coming to show this place to someone, and he knows I don’t have an exact moving date yet. I guess Tammy’s gonna have to get some friends to move me. What about the $40 court fee? There’ll be a $40 fee from Northampton, too.

Thursday, November 21, 1991

 

I went to see Dr. Leitch this morning. God knows how the hell I got up, but I did.

I just realized I forgot to get a note from them to give to my probation officer. Tomorrow I’ll call them and ask them to mail me a note. I also have to call Cassandra and reschedule our Monday evening appointment.

I had a little chat with Nervous today and I guess not much has changed in his life. I wish he could see this apartment before I leave it.

I hope I get to sleep within a few hours. I want to keep my schedule somewhat normal. Peter will be showing the place tomorrow at 2:00. There sure will be a difference. It’s going to be a lot emptier looking in here since I threw all my knickknacks in the closets. I’ve really got to start rounding up more boxes if I’m definitely out of here on January 2nd.

I really want to check out trailer homes in trailer parks in CT. It’d be a nice change for a girl who loves variety and living in different places. It’d feel like I was at the beach or on vacation or on tour. Tammy tells me she’s checked into it and they’re too expensive. They’re the rent-to-own deal. Since I can’t create my own perfect dream home with a snap of my fingers with a pool, dance/gym room, I wish I could pick up this apartment and move it with me. I’ll probably end up in the same old apartment in an apartment-building type deal. There’ll be many apartments above, below and around me. I wish I could at least afford a duplex. I really like those.

Dr. Leitch refilled my meds and did a check-up on me. I am wheezing a bit more again and have been tight in the chest than I should be. That weather change really did a number on me. I complained about the very bloated gut that I have before during and after my period. He mentioned gas and certain symptoms that go along with it. I said that that’s what I’ve figured was the problem now for quite some time. I’ll be going for a lactose tolerance test on Dec. 9 and he says my problem is quite common. It isn’t at all dangerous or potentially fatal like asthma, but it sure is a royal pain. He said a pain in the butt. I said no, a pain in the gut. Why though, didn’t someone take care of this problem and do this test a long time ago? Oh well. Better late than never in this case. That’s for sure.

I haven’t spoken to Fran too much lately. He spends a lot of time at this girl’s house that he works with.

I hope to hell I get Andy’s letter and my pictures tomorrow. He’s owed me both for a long time. Whenever I do get his letter, I’ll copy it in journal 18. I know it has at least 8 pages. I hope he puts enough postage on it.

When I go to Tammy’s, I better remember to get my edits. I spoke with her a few times during the day and we discussed stuff I’m bringing down. She laughed when I told her I’d begun packing. You know how I like everything to be organized. I hate to wait until the last minute. Plus, I’m so anxious to hurry up and go. She told me to bring whatever I can. I have several things for all of them. Stuff I don’t need or want along with stuff I’ve made. I also told her I’d make a Happy Chanukah banner. I started that and I’ll finish it tomorrow. I’ll also be bringing my drawing pad and I’ll finish their swing set picture there with the girls. I have those placemat things I made. I’ve made two already and I have another one that’s half-finished. I’ll also bring my skinny yarn for making bracelets. I still have to finish Andy’s bracelet and mail him my last two Chanukah cards with typed lines on them. I’ll mail his card along with Mom and Dad’s right before I leave. I’m bringing down two pairs of roller skates Kim gave me. They’re a size 9! I hope one of the girls gets tall. Somebody’s got to end up taller than me.

I got a scale in the mail along with those 3 wool blankets with the different designs. I already have a scale and I know they do too, but maybe it broke. Tammy says she loves ducks and one of the blankets has a pretty duck design. The others are flowers and an Indian print.

She said she got a shipment in of really pretty hair bows and those scrunchy hair things. When you have really long hair, they’re better than the regular coated elastics. They’re a lot easier to take out. She mentioned perfume samples too, and I’m giving her perfume called Navy that she likes a lot.

That trim Kim gave me really went a long way. I still have massive split ends but I’d much rather have long dead ends, than short healthy ones. It only took a week after she trimmed it for it to come out of shock and start growing. I mean, growing. Kim was shocked and asked me if I had a stretching machine. I am so happy. It is really here. My hair is at the top of my ass!!!!! In a year from now, I hope to be sitting on it. Once it gets to the top of my legs, I’ll cut it to the lower waist/top of the ass line where it is now. Hopefully, that’ll do in all my split ends. Or at least the bulk of them.

I am really tired now, even though, there is more I could write. Anyway, I should try to knock off for the night as it is now 11:00. That way I’ll get up in plenty of time to clean out the stairwell. I’ll remove some old tape from the walls and make sure Shadow’s box doesn’t reek of shit. The last few days I haven’t slept much so now it’s time to catch up.

Can’t wait for that fem’s letter!

Friday, November 22, 1991

 

I am so pissed! Why oh, why can’t I fucking fall asleep? I know I’ll be up till 4:00 or 5:00. I used to like being a night person and now I hate it. If I absolutely had to get up at the same time every day, I’d only sleep for 4 hours or so. I am exhausted, though. I’m drop-dead tired. So then why can’t I sleep? I don’t want to take up sleeping pills. You need more and more of those to knock you out as time goes on, they’re addicting too, and you also need to take an upper to wake up in the morning. I’m so fucking pissed!

Later...

I had a bite to eat and listened to some tapes and CDs for a while. It is now time for me to try my damnedest to fall asleep. I know the main part of the problem is the Theodur besides being a night person. Perhaps I didn’t have enough coffee. You know how that is for a hyperactive person. It reverses more or less. Four cups a day helps a lot usually. A calmer person would only become more revved up by 4 coffees. Right now I’m not energetic or upset about anything in particular.

I sure as hell can’t write worth a damn when I’m exhausted. I hate being so tired yet unable to sleep, so if anything’s ticking me off at the moment, that’s it.

The only issue in my life right now besides singing or sex is my tapes. It’s like losing a very big and special part of me and my life. No one else could ever understand that for the life of them cuz they do not know me and my life. Or the people I know and the experiences I’ve had. I understand that, but it is not up to anyone else to judge me. Not cops or doctors or lawyers or teachers or the lowest of all low lives on the earth. If I heard the tapes and did not know anyone on the tapes, I too would think, are these people crazy? What are they talking about? What does all this gibberish mean? Nonetheless, it is a big part of my life they’ve snatched from me which is totally wrong and unfair with or without me making those phone calls. Other than making prank phone calls, I have a right to tape whoever the hell I want to in the privacy of my own home. No matter if I’ve done something wrong or I’m a sweet little angel, some kind of authority figure is always snatching away the things I love and are important to me. Either that or it gets stolen or broken. I no longer respect cops the way I used to. Some yes, but mainly I will always carry a huge resentment towards them in general. I will always feel anger.

Later...

I have only 6 minutes to write as I promised Andy I’d call him back. He ran out to grab a burger and some smokes. God, is he ever miserable! Even though PHX is much cheaper than New England, he’s having severe financial problems. He took a test for AT&T with 30 people. Only one passed the test and it wasn’t him. He may go apply at another Denny’s but he’s sick of the graveyard shift. He too, is getting fed up with being a night person.

As far as relationships go, our desires have completely changed.

Speaking of Andy, he just called saying that after we hung up, he checked his voicemail. He had 4 messages and had to call everyone back. So now, he’s gone out to get his burger and his pack of cigarettes. I told him that when he’s ready to call, let it ring once. I’ll call him back at that point.

Damn! With all the long-distance calls and the 900-number calls I’ve made, I better get the hell out of here in January!

Besides the boring, isolated no life I have here, I hope and pray I get a nice place and get out fast.

Besides Andy’s money problems and missing me, he’s so lonely. All his life he never wanted love but now he’s wanting a full-time lover. He’s now willing to share a bed every night with the right person and do all the things lovers do. All my life I thought I’d pretty much get someone and keep them and hang onto them for life or as long as possible. That was what I once wanted until I found out all I want, need and can handle is sex. We both are so picky and are attracted to straights. That is one desire I’m proud, relieved, happy and content with after all the desires I wish constantly I could change. Wanting only sex, I mean. Both of us have moved to places we thought we’d be happier in when in fact we’re a zillion times more miserable. The only plus for him is the cheaper and nicer apt. The only plus for me is this beautiful apt. and the area. At least I can go to the store without a drug dealer asking me to buy or sell drugs.

Later...

I just called Tammy to tell her how pissed off I am that I couldn’t fall asleep till 4:00 in the morning. I had set my alarm for 10:00 but didn’t get out of bed till almost 1:00. Even if I did get out of bed at 10:00, I’d still be up till 4:00 or 5:00.

Peter showed the apartment today to a young couple.

I’ve finally gotten my long-awaited letter from Andy. He sent 3 pictures of himself along with a coupon for my coffee. I got some cigarette coupons, too. Also, a concert review of Gloria’s from the concert Andy went to. Getting his letter was great and it was really thoughtful of him to send the other stuff, but what about my photos? I’m thinking, aw shit! Now I gotta wait another 6 months for those? I told him I’ve waited long enough. I didn’t give them to him, and other people want to see them. I’m never lending another thing of mine to anyone and I know now for sure, I’ll never get my bathing suits from Jessie. Fine. She can have them, but our friendship is over and she’s out of my life.

One other thing I forgot to mention that Andy sent me. An article on how Gloria should wear longer dresses to cover up her chunky legs. Then she was compared with some other girl who they said had a dynamite figure. The only thing negative in her concert review was the Bacardi Breezer commercial shown on the big screens. They said, who wants to pay to see commercials? Also that Whitney Houston has better pipes than Gloria.

Later...

My show Reasonable Doubts with the good-looking deaf actress Marlee Matlin, who uses sign language, is not on tonight due to a movie. Bummer. The movie’s boring, too.

Fran isn’t home and he hardly ever is lately. He spends a lot of time at that girl’s house. The one he works with.

Kim dropped off my refill for Alupent and Theodur as well as an antibiotic called Augmentin. I’ve heard of it before and I sure hope it isn’t one of the ones that played with my stomach. Tammy says she’s taken it before with no problems. Tammy also said that her niece, as well as a friend of hers, has that gas problem in their stomachs, too. It is common, the doctor and she told me. They just take these lactose tablets that look like little wafers. They do not cause side effects or counteract with any medicines.

A few days ago, I got my period and had annoying cramps. Not to the point where I thought I’d die, but Kim gave me two Advil and contrary to my doubts, it killed my cramps. It has Motrin in it. I’ve had that before.

Kim says she’ll see me later to read Andy’s letter. Right now Kim’s busy with her friend Michelle who’s pretty, and of course, straight.

Later...

I am so bored right now it makes me sick. I plucked my eyebrows a little bit but not too thoroughly. It’s harder than all hell to try to do it on yourself. I threw some Hydrocortisone cream on my face. It is absolutely the best stuff I have ever used for zits. Also, Dr. L said that that’s what I should be using on my ear when it gets all red and irritated. Not antibiotic cream. Why do I always have to go through so many different doctors and wait so long for correct answers? Using the hydrocortisone cream is helping a lot so far.

I’m getting horny again and wish once again, I could fulfill that dream of going to bed with someone I’m turned on by. I know it’ll never happen but I’m only human. It comes and goes in phases. The last 5 days or so I’ve really had no desires. Of course, coming home from a gay bar makes me lose my appetite for a while. It’s disappointing. Once you’ve seen one gay woman (butch) you’ve seen them all. And, of course, the few that are fairly decent looking aren’t interested in me. Lastly, the ones who are very good-looking are straight. Oh well. You just can’t change destiny. That’s why nowadays I don’t 100% believe in negative or positive. I believe more in meant to be or not meant to be. I’ve gone into situations before numerous times, be it a band or music-related or women-related with a positive, determined and confident attitude, and failed. Yes, I know that’s life and everyone goes through it, but too many times is too many times. I feel like such an ass for believing I was gonna make it as a singer someday. How wrong I was in believing connections would come easier once developing my voice. How wrong I was in believing that growing and maturing and working on my looks would make meeting a woman easier. Especially when you don’t want a relationship, and believe me most people don’t. Men don’t want relationships more so than women, but overall, male or female, sex is THEE thing. You just have to be a hell of a lot more careful and cautious cuz of AIDS.

Saturday, November 23, 1991

 

Only another two days before I get the hell out of this cage. Don’t get me wrong, though. There’s only so much of being around people I can take. Therefore, when it’s time to come back, I’ll be happy about it. Not for too long though. Eventually, I’ll be climbing the walls again in utter boredom. Especially if I do not move by Jan. 2nd. Of course, I’ll be up all fucking night long so I’ll write and sit here waiting till Andy calls. That’ll be any minute now.

I thought Kim was coming over to read Andy’s letter. Oh, of course not. 98% of the time she’s busy, tired, working, sleeping or on the phone. I do appreciate her picking up my refills, though.

As much as I like Kim and admire her in several ways, remember what I always said? I give what I get. And even though I don’t expect to be with her all the time, she led me to believe we’d be doing more things together. I feel very abandoned even though she had her own problems. She knows how I feel, too. We’ve talked and I know she hates her job and has been overburdened by Bob. She’s going to be quitting her job, though. We’ve discussed many things and I am so happy about the many things she’s done for me. She really has helped me out here and there, mainly with money. But at the same time, she knew what she was doing from day one. She knew what she’s told me. She’s abandoned me since day one. As much as I have numerous things to be grateful for, I must give her what she’s given me. That is to abandon her 100% when I move. I’m sorry but I’ve got to do it. Within reason, I treat others as they treat me. She is, however, a character I will never ever forget and am very lucky to have really gotten to know. Kim and I have many ideas, philosophies, and interests in common yet she is the complete opposite I usually never get. She is that so-called “up there” and “decent” person I never could get as a friend, one-nighter, or a lover. I am accepted by people like her once in a lifetime and I know I’m good enough and deserve her type now. However, people like her will no doubt continue to draw false or harsh conclusions about me. I know that and I accept that but that’s their problem and I know the truth. There are a lot of facts I’ll never be able to change but I’ll never take them to heart.

There are two different numbers that give you your horoscope and the bulk of the things they say are true. However, since they’re talking about people of my sign in general, some things are a little off. They said not to spend the holidays entirely with my family. Do I have a choice?

Andy just called and we were just starting to chat when his neighbor Laurie came over. He’s gonna give me my one-ring signal later.

I’ve got to get a battery pack for my cordless phone Kim gave me. She said she’d pick one up as she was going to the phone store they’re sold at but never did. Even though they cost around $8, from what she told me, I’ll pick it up myself. Just giving me that phone along with other stuff she didn’t want is so generous. It’ll be a while before I can afford to buy it, but when I do, they’re supposed to last up to a year.

Sunday, November 24, 1991

 

I’m lying here on my bed while I write. Shadow is lying next to me. I’ll miss him when I’m gone. He’s not used to not having me around, so I’ll have to cat-proof the place. Meaning anything he can destroy will need to be put in drawers or closets. Poor little guy. Kim’s going to feed him and play with him. Also, she’s gonna grab my mail for me. I still have some last-minute things to do before I go. I’ve got to finish making my Chanukah banner and pack some last-minute items. Things like my CDs, meds, drawing stuff and this journal if I do not finish it in time. I still have to change Shadow’s litter box.

Tammy said we can leave anytime we want but to call her when we’re on our way. I’m on antibiotics that make me drowsy so I hope I’ll sleep a few hours before we leave. It’s damp, rainy, miserable weather out and that may make it easier to sleep. I also played a little guitar last night which also helped me to relax. I’ll also need to take a shower before I leave as my hair needs to be conditioned. I also want to straighten my hair out, do my nails and shave. I’ve shaved my calves and under my arms but I want to shave my thighs. I will set the VCR to record In the Heat of the Night and Law & Order. Tammy says there’s a TV downstairs so I can watch what I want down there. But if I’m busy, that’s the show I’d not want to miss most of all.

At 8:00 or 9:00 tonight, it’d sure be nice to sleep till 4:00 or 5:00. I know that’s wishful thinking, though.

Tuesday, November 26, 1991

 

Believe it or not, I just let Tammy read part of this journal. She asked if she could and when I asked why she said it was so she can understand my thoughts. I figured that half of the stuff she’d never understand or couldn’t relate to. She and I are two totally different people. Our dreams, goals, wants, needs, personalities and ways of life. I’m a conversationalist and an open person. Of course, I have my moods but I like to laugh as much as I can. I like to try and not take things so seriously if I can. If a person can’t understand something I say, I give up right then and there.

Tammy’s really changed the place around since I was last here. It looked smaller than I remembered when I arrived here. Probably cuz she’s gotten a lot more stuff. Plants and knickknacks and all kinds of stuff. Also, it probably appears smaller as I moved to a place much bigger.

Wednesday, November 27, 1991

 

I just got a bunch of new markers. They were supposed to be for one of those geometrical design drawing books, but we couldn’t find any at the mall. We also could not find Gloria’s songbook. It seems as if no one has it. I can’t understand why. I got 32 markers though. I got 16 skinny ones and 16 fat ones. Even though I was unable to find my design book, I’m sure I can find plenty of other uses for these markers.

Lastly, I got two new and very beautiful journals. They’re just as nice as this one, which I consider my best except they have no gold trim.

I’ll probably wait till I get home before I really write. I mean, about my visit here along with other stuff. That way I’ll have privacy and will be able to concentrate a lot better.

I only hope and pray to God I move soon, but still, what kind of life will I have? Will I ever meet anyone? I’m gonna miss my apartment so much and even now, I’m feeling a little homesick.

Thursday, November 28, 1991

 

Today was the Thanksgiving dinner which was very nice. Tammy’s a swell cook.

Bill’s sister and niece were here and they’re both very nice. It has been quite some time since I’ve last seen them. At one point, Tammy, Etta (Bill’s sister) and I discussed the funny and creative parts of my phone calls, told jokes and Etta even heard a part of the edits. She also saw my drawings.

I’ve had more fun than I’d anticipated. It was great playing with the girls and seeing all their toys and stuff.

Saturday, November 30, 1991

 

I returned home yesterday around 10:00 in the morning. All of us had gotten up at 7:30 that morning. I had had only 4 hours of sleep. It was never as hard as I thought it would be to get up the whole time I was there. My sleeping hours varied from 4-8 hours a night. Usually, it was 6 hours. I’ve got to be careful now as I got up at 4:30 this afternoon. I went to bed last night at around 2 AM. All that running around and constant activity and lack of sleep caught up to me. I’m not used to getting up early in the morning so many days in a row.

Kim quit her job at New Medico and may be returning to Baystate rather than Mercy Hospital. She said that starting January 6th, she’ll never be home. I told her she never is anyway. She currently is working 3 days a week but has a billion other activities. She said she did this as she figured (along with Tammy and me) that I’d be moving on January 2nd. I wonder why she makes it a point to try to never be home? Could it be cuz of Mark? I don’t know, cuz she’s always complaining about how she never sees him.

Well, I think I’ll write more about my visit with Tammy, Bill, and the girls later. Believe me, I have lots to write. I had a lot of fun, yet at the same time, it’s cool to be home.

I’m gonna go and listen to music and watch some videos they’ve lent me. Also, Kim’s home.

[biaoba]

Wow! Finally finished watching malcolm in the middle! That was quite a show, very entertaining! I especially loved the following parts:

- When Francis inherited the ranch in the finale! I loved his and Otto's relationship throughout the show, and how he finally found the parent figures he always needed. I loved when Lois came to visit and– upon realising what an unexpectedly smart, good-natured and honest man he had become without her, she apologizes for not being the mother she should have been. And I especially loved that they didn't make their relationship miraculously perfect after that!!! The arc where Piama helps him through the realization that he will never recover a perfect childhood and the only way to move is forward? Mwah! It was sad only seeing him with the brothers in Christmas episodes, but it was good seeing Francis happy.

- When Reese got his apartment and moved out for good! Credit card debt is no joke, but after getting a thorought explanation on that and other ~adulting things Hal and Lois never got around to teaching him, it was quite a wake up call for his independence. Sure, he had to make do with a toaster oven and mini fridge for the rest of the show, but his graduation gifts more than made up for it lol. Loved how his grades started getting better gradually, and he actually chose to go to college for something he loved– cooking. I loved the implication in the finale that he kept doing odd jobs to support himself through it. Just like Francis, he was better off out of the house, and I loved that they didn't cold turkey stop him from doing pranks! The gradual realization that hospital/police/lawyers time and costs aren't really worth it? Mwah! Plus, his relationship with his brothers only stronger because they had to choose to hang out together was a sight to behold.

- Dewey! Usually I hate ~high stakes storylines, but getting local press coverage for his improvised piano was such a turning point in his arc that it's impossible not to love. Plus, it got him that grand piano, and everyone started seeing him in just a little bit of a better light. I loved how he turned the Busey's class around! That episode where he got Reese to put sleeping pills in the teacher's coffee every morning so he could take over the class is one of my faves, and Malcolm bringing in authorities to expose the rampant child labor and underfunding was inspired. I like that Dewey stayed an honorary part of the class, even though he transferred to the 'normal' kids so he didn't have to neglect his own education selflessly forever. I like to think he pursued a career in Special Education, helping kids like him in a way they needed to be helped. Maybe through music?!

- And finally, Malcolm. I love his turnaround by the end of the show. I love that his big finale moment was deciding to take a gap year, because what is college for if he was just gonna be miserable? I loved that he stood up to Lois's delusions of grandeur. President? Please. Just because he's smart, it doesn't meant he should aim for glory lol. He's smart enough to aim for happiness, instead. And considering he didn't know what that looked like for him yet, I'm glad he took time away from home to figure himself out, and that, after seeing two other successful cases, Lois let him. I also loved how his non-cousin from Canada helped him start his journey to self-confidence! After figuring out it wasn't his peers' approval he was trying to get, but his mom's, it was only a matter of practice before he could laugh at himself and make friends effortlessly. And it was a sight to behold.

[subwaysurf45]

Fragments (Ep.2)

Summary: You always had a soft spot for innocent people who were viewed as monsters, must have been something in your blood. Nothing changed when you were assigned as the new handler for the Winter Soldier, he had just killed his previous one and you happened to be there at the right time to fill in. But what happens when you meet him years later?  

Episode: Two

Words: 3,215

Warning: slight nudity, abuse towards the Winter Soldier, violence, angst

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Warm water spilled from out of the hose and into the tub. The water was clearer than expected, you thought it was going to be sludge. The tub itself was sitting awkwardly in the middle of the cell, not connected to anything and the drain was just a bottomless pit into the ground. The hose was connected outside of the cell, running through a ventilation hole in the glass and connecting to a tap outside. 

No information was relayed to you about why he needed a bath before you showed up. It made perfect sense when you were greeted by the Winter Soldier being thrown into the cell room, he was covered in dirt and blood. With the full coverage gear he always wore you had no idea whose blood it belonged to, he could be bleeding out and you wouldn’t know because the lack of urgency when it came to his well being was noticed before the blood. 

The tub was filled very high, you wanted him to have a full bath rather than a little bit of water to sit in. He stood behind you and waited silently, your hand swirled around the water to make some noise to ease the tension. After flicking off the tap you walked out of the cell and it made the loud buzz again, it didn’t scare you this time and you didn’t look to see if it scared him. You grabbed the shampoo and body wash as well as the first aid kit, in case the blood was actually his. 

“Alright,” you sighed and walked over, “let’s get undressed.” He stood still and watched you, his eyes never left yours. “Take your clothes off,” you paused and when his fingers touched the first zipper you added, “is that alright with you?” his hand froze over the zipper, he seemed unable to compute what you had said. After thinking about what that Hydra agent said to you the plan made perfect sense, you were going to re-introduce options and choice. 

Surprisingly, he began undressing. 

Your heart twisted at him taking his clothes off like it was nothing, he obviously had to do this before and he was way past being shy about it. After taking off his cargo pants and boxers you turned around, trying to give some type of privacy after seeing everything. In most situations, a man getting undressed in front of a woman next to a tub would cause blood to rush to between his legs, but not in this case. He was completely soft when he stepped into the tub, you could tell he had done this before and didn’t care what was on display. 

His left arm was a beautiful horror. The scars that littered his chest and shoulder looked like lightning. The area where the metal was fused with skin looked red and aggravated, there were more prominent claw marks near it as well. If you had a metal arm you’d try to rip it off as well, the only thing you wondered was how long had he been trying to take it off. Both hands were in fists but the left made a whirring sound as he flexed, there maybe something wrong or a build up of old anger; it was unreadable on his stale face. 

Almost immediately, the water turned a murky colour. You kneeled by the tub and let him sit there for a while, he sat painfully still with his knees hugged into his chest, his chin resting on the bruised joints. 

“Okay,” you whispered and grabbed a small basin, with both hands you filled it with clean water and dumped it on his head. When it came straight from the hose it was cold but he didn’t seem to mind at all. After the first pour you grabbed the shampoo, pretending to be unable to open it. You twisted, pushed, pulled, but nothing could open it; you knew you had to flick the cap. “Could you open this for me?” you held it out in front of him. 

His head moved to see the bottle and then he looked at you, doing the same tilting head motion to try and understand. Slowly, his hand came up from out of the water and flicked the cap open, he didn’t take the bottle out of your hands. 

“Thanks,” you smiled, “such a good help,” you poured some of the shampoo into your palm and showed him your hands, “this is soap, it’s going to go on your head, alright?” if you had blinked you would have missed the small nod he gave you, “here we go,” you pretended not to see it. 

The moment your fingers touched his scalp his eyes rolled back, a hum subconsciously came from him as you scrubbed out everything that was in his hair. You decided to let him sit in silence for this one, you weren’t going to press him or try and make him respond, you were going to let him enjoy a scalp massage. A weird feeling arose when you saw a smile come from his lips, his teeth weren’t showing but he had a smile. The feeling moved to your face and clouded your vision, you’d been in the cell room a few times by now, you had never once seen him smile. 

With one finger you pushed his head back a bit, making sure the shampoo wouldn’t rinse off in his eyes. With clean water, you washed out his hair and ran your fingers through it to get everything out. After three bowls of water were poured you moved onto the body, you didn’t know how to do this without violating him. 

“Alright,” you picked up a sponge used to clean cars, the yellow hourglass shaped one, and put a large serving of body wash all over it, “if you have cuts and they sting, tell me.” he nodded and you began wiping down his back, you moved under his arms and to his chest, making a few round without any complaints. 

There was a sound from down the hall, the Winter Soldier grew rigid again and so did you. Footsteps grew louder as someone walked towards the glass wall. It was a normal man, a Hydra agent making his rounds. 

“Hello,” you said. 

He only grunted in response, “I can’t help but feel physically ill at the way you talk to this monster,” he said, “he’s not a man, he’s a toy and a killing machine; treat him like one.” 

“I’d rather not,” you shrugged and stopped cleaning the Soldier, “he’s a person to me.” 

“Does a person do this?” he asked and began to laugh, “Soldat, punch yourself in the face.” 

Before you could tell him to stop the Winter Soldier purposely collided his fist to his cheekbone, barely reacting after the strike. The man hollered in laughter as you plugged the Soldier’s ears, making sure it wouldn’t happen again. 

“Jump!” The man screamed and sure enough water splashed everywhere as the Winter Soldier shot up from the tub, slipping on the porcelain and falling against the edge, somewhat into you, knocking you backwards. “Hit her!” he laughed again, “go on, hit her!”

You laid on your back and waited for the blow, but you opened your eyes to see the Winter Soldier standing still. Water rolled off his hair and down his shoulders and body, he stood staring at you. 

“Hit her!” he screamed again. 

The Soldier got out of the tub and stood over you, grabbing you by the neck of your hoodie and pulling you close to his face. Labored breaths were coming from him as he stared at you, his face was so close it looked distorted. He pulled his hand back so you closed your eyes and waited, you felt the gust of wind on your face so you turned to doge it. 

And you did.

The Soldier dropped you back onto the ground and faced the agent again, who was laughing and cheering him on one last time before walking away. What assassin misses a punch that close? He walked to the tub and sat back down, holding his knees to his chest and looking over at you. You had never seen him smile until today, you had also never seen him cry; until today. 

“Are you…?” you asked and walked over to him, a tear had managed to slip out from his eyes, “you didn’t hit me, don’t worry. '' he nodded and looked down at the water, out of nowhere he began hitting himself on the head, a punishment no one ordered him to do. “Stop that!” You quickly held back his left arm until he stopped and slowly sulked more, he was breathing so heavily you didn’t notice the sobs coming from him. “Hey,” you said softly, “it’s alright, you didn’t hurt me, it’s okay,” your arms circled his head and pulled him into your chest. 

His left hand reached up and tapped your forearm twice, “friend,” was all he said. 

“Yes,” you quickly pulled him away to look into his eyes, “friends. As your friend, I’m going to wash your body now and let you wash your…private area, alright?” he nodded and you handed him a sponge, watching as he cleaned his lower half and legs. 

When he was finished you held his hand and helped him step out of the tub. You had dried most of him off and let him finish up when you walked back to the cart to get a hair brush, he seemed a little confused when you walked back up. You brought over more clothes for him to change into, you had to help a little bit but he knew what to do for the most part. 

As the brush worked through his hair you watched the brush to make sure you untangled everything, he was watching you. You both were standing in the middle of his cell, he was a little taller than you so you had to stand on your toes. In your peripheral you could see his wide eyes looking at you, staring deeply into your soul. To keep things less awkward you didn’t look at him, staying focused on the brush working through his hair. 

Soon enough you had to leave him alone again. It might have been the lack of ventilation but your head started to feel pressure, the base of your skull hurt and you couldn’t hide it. He looked concerned as you rubbed your temples around to try and soothe the ache, you told him not to worry. You waved goodbye and he flicked his wrist, leaving him with the loud buzzer and complete silence. 

No one was there to walk you back to your room, you took it upon yourself to explore as you made your way back to your make-shift cell. You hadn’t noticed the amount of signs that were everywhere around the Hydra facility, they were black plaques with gold writing to match everything else. 

As your feet walked closer to the plaques that were beside every doorway your head continued to hurt, it started to pulse. Nausea began to build as your eyesight got blurrier, you could barely see where you were going and needed to hold onto the wall to walk. You stopped to catch your breath, gripping the black brick wall for support as the pounding died down. 

When you got your composer back you looked at the plaque beside you, it was longer than normal. Your finger felt over the raised letters, you spoke as you read, “when alerting keep echo unnoticeable please…what?” you whispered to yourself. You continued to walk and the nest plaque was just as weird, “basic understanding considered key yesterday…” you re-read the plaque again and it still didn’t make sense. When you had gotten back to your room a plaque had shown up there as well, “general emergency tactical uniforms, please dire rescue escape authorized momentarily…” you shook your head and walked through the door, “sick joke,” you whispered to yourself. 

You laid down in bed to see if the headache would subside, looking at the ceiling and waited for the pain to lessen. Your hands clasped on your abdomen, thumbs trilling, it took your mind off of the ache which made it less. 

You could hear footsteps in the hall, they were quick and precise. This person wasn’t stumbling or holding onto the wall for support, they were on a mission. The mission seemed to get closer and closer, the echo came right to your door until it stopped. There was silence, no one was moving. You didn’t know if they knew you were in your room, you stayed still just in case they were looking for you. One hand covered your mouth to muffle the breaths, it was a standoff and you didn’t know how long you could hold it for. 

“Get up!” the voice shouted as the door was kicked in, the wood flying everywhere. 

You screamed and tried to run out of your room but were grabbed by the Hydra agent, he wore all black with gold horizontal stripes. His arms wrapped around your stomach to pull your back into his chest, he had a tight grip and you couldn’t get out of it no matter how hard you thrashed. He was screaming incoherent things, the headache and tears covered over his commands. 

He threw you over his shoulder, your face hitting his back with how much force he used. Fists pounded into his back over and over but he didn’t seem phased, he never winced once at your hitting. You didn’t know where you were going, any movement of your neck sent pain down your spine and to your temples, you decided to give in and play dead on his shoulder. 

After a while you were thrown down onto the floor, the cold cement sending shocks up your spine. The man who stood above you looked oddly familiar, you couldn’t place where you had known him from but you knew him. You wanted to ask if he went to school with you, maybe you met him during a lecture, the words died on your tongue. When you thought longer about it it seemed like he was a friend from childhood, the feeling of connection was more than a class or two together. The familiarity pulled you closer to him, he stood above you and you leaned in, inspecting his face. 

“Do I know you?” you ask, without thinking your hand cupped his cheek, “what’s going on?”

“Take your time,” the voice was familiar too, “I’ll be there, alright?” the more you looked at him the more realized he wasn’t really looking at you, though you had a better description of his eye not focusing on yours. 

“Where am I?” your voice shook. 

“It’s alright,” he whispered. 

“Can you see me?” tears rolled down your cheeks as you asked, “this is scaring me, can I please go back to my room?” 

It seemed like dust took him, the man disintegrated into thin air. 

You closed your eyes and began to sob, hugging your knees into your chest. Your entire body shook from the cold as you cried yourself to sleep, curling up on the cold cement floor. 

When you woke up your eyes didn’t open right away, the first thing that hit you was the smell of sterilization, it burned your nose. Through closed eyes you could tell it was bright, lights with blue undertones made their way through the cracks of your eyelashes. You were laying down, the cement floor felt comfier. Letting the light in took a moment but after some time you were looking around from a frozen spot on a bed. 

A hospital bed. 

With a sore neck, you looked to the right and then to the left. Being completely caught off guard when you saw a man with long brown hair leaned over and sleeping, he was sitting on a different chair and resting his head on the mattress. His right hand was already reached up and sat on your lap, holding one of your hands. As you looked around nothing gave away where you were or how long it was since you saw the Winter Soldier last in his cell, if it was a while you hoped he wasn’t given a harsh handler. 

The man beside you sniffled and began to sit up, wiping the dried spit from his lips and crusts from the corner of his eyes. Too in shock, you didn’t say anything, just sitting perfectly still and staring right at him. When he looked at you he shot up with a gasp, quickly coming back in and kissing you hard on the lips. 

“You’re awake!” he cheered, tears streaming down his face, he jumped around and smiled, “I knew it, baby, I knew you’d wake up!” He kissed you again and cupped your face, holding you still. You sat there with your eyes open, not kissing this stranger back. “I’m going to get Cho,” he whispered and ran out of the room, you could hear him yelling. 

A lady, who was probably Cho, quickly walked in and went straight for you, doing checks in your eyes and mouth. “All clear,” she whispered to herself, “I didn’t think the serum would work, Hydra really evolved with their torture.” 

“T-torture?” you repeated. 

The men quickly kissed your forehead, “not anymore, baby, you’re safe here, alright?” his voice was horse with tears and emotion, “I’m going to take you back to our room and give you a nice bath and then we can just take it easy for a while, how does that sound?” he nodded as he asked, feeling around your face with his hands. 

“Who are you?” you asked. His smile crumbled instantly, there was no change in the amount of tears leaving his eyes but the expression changed drastically. “I need to get home, I just graduated and I need to see my siblings and parents. I need to get away from here, nothing makes sense.” the man was no longer quick to sooth you, he just stood still and looked at you. 

Cho turned your head towards her, “what year is it?”

You looked over at the man who was pacing with his hands on his head, “i-it’s twenty nineteen,” you sniffled before looking back at Cho. 

“Okay,” she nodded, “that’s okay, we’re going to take our time, alright?” 

“For what?” you asked, “what’s going on?” you tried to get up but the man was quick to hold you down, “I need to go home, I need to go to my apartment please.” 

“Baby,” he stressed, “this is your home, don’t you remember me?” he asked, cupping your face so you’d look at him, “c’mon, sweetheart,” he began to tear up again, desperate for anything to change, “please tell me you remember me,” his voice broke before his head dropping on your lap, his knees buckled as he cried on you, weeping and screaming. You looked at Cho and she lowered her head, “b-baby,” he cried, “please, it’s been four years since then,” he wiped his nose, “It’s Bucky, do you remember Bucky?” 

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

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[thewritetofreespeech]

Hiii! I don't know if your requests are open. But i would still like to request one. I would a knb one where the gom+kagami gfs wore a skirt(which shrunk during washing and had no choice but to wear it) and every time they bent, their patience are tested until they couldn't take it anymore. Their s/o completed obvious to the attention they are getting from others.

GOM Boys + Kagami and Short Skirt Reader (f!reader)

Akashi

“[Y/N]-chan, lets go in here.” You pause in your walk with Akashi around town, spending the lovely outside, in front of a pose looking clothing store.

“Here? Why?”

“I thought you might like to buy something in here.” He replied with a soft smile.

“Oh...Akashi-kun...I don’t know. It looks awfully expensive.”

“It’s my treat.” He countered. The corners of his soft smile becoming strained. “I’ll get you anything you want.”

“I appreciate it Akashi-kun, but I couldn’t let you do that. Spending money on me like that would make me feel uncomfortable.”

“[Y/N] please.” Now not only were the corners of his mouth strained, but his voice as well. “I’m trying to put this as delicately as possible but, you’re skirt is too short.” You blink at Akashi. Not expecting that, nor did you really think your skirt was that short. Sure you’d had it since middle school but... “It’s incredibly distracting, and not just for me.” His mouth scrunched in an unflattering frown before it softened again. Those beautiful crimson eyes darting to the left, sending a pack of boys running off. “So please, let me buy you a new skirt or outfit. You look beautiful in anything, so you don’t need a short skirt like that to get my attention.”

That hadn’t been your intention in wearing the skirt today and you blush. “Well....ok.” It was always really hard to argue with him.

Akashi bought you a new outfit in the store; you dare not look at the price tags. You continue on your date hand in hand. Your skirt you had thrown in the shopping bag after changing mysteriously vanishing when you got home.

Aomine

The bell for second period ending chimed, and was soon drowned out by the sound of students shuffling through the halls. You were about to join them to your next class when Ryo asked if you’d seen Aomine. He wasn’t in class, apparently, and he took it upon himself to collect his teammate’s assignments to pass them on to him.

Such a nice guy.

You look towards the window, where the sun was shinning brightly, and sighed. “I’ll give them to him.” You knew exactly where he was.

Climbing the stairs to the roof, you of course find Aomine there. Stretched out like a cat in the warm sun, dozing the day away in the fresh air. 

“Honestly Aomine, you couldn’t even make it to second period?”

The tall, tan basketball star opened his eyes slowly from his cat nap and grinned at you. "What up with your skirt?”

Your cheeks turn red and you tried to futilely pull the front down. “I-I-It shrunk in the wash! The school was supposed to get me a new one but they didn’t have my size!”

“Nah. Keep it. I like this one much better.” His grin grew wider. “Did you wear those blue panties just for me today? Since it’s my favorite color?”

Your blush deepened and your growled at your boyfriend. You swing your arm to swat at his propped up knee but he caught your wrist and pulled you down. Forcing you to fall haphazardly on top of him; just like he planned.

“A-Aomine! Q-Quit it!”

“Nope. No can do.” He replied. His hand on your thigh. “I held out as long as I could. You can’t expect me not to react when you wear your battle panties in front of me.”

Needless to say, neither of you made it to third period.

Kagami

Another lively afternoon at Serin basketball practice. You were sitting on the bleachers, watching your friends and boyfriend, play 2-on-2 games around the court for training. You would cheer Kagami and some of the others on. Doing your part to motivate the team as your way to show support.

Riko finally blew her whistle to call for a break and the team let out a collective sigh of relief.

“H-H-Here!” You look put at Kagami when he came up to you, cheeks flushed, holding out his warm up jacket. “Put it on!”

“I...uh..thanks Kagami-kun. But I’m not cold.” You assume that why he gave it to you.

“It’s not that! Just put it on! Don’t worry. It’s not dirty or anything.”

“Um...ok. But why?” 

“Don’t worry about it!” He snapped. “Just put it on!”

You frown and grumble a little, before you demand, “no. Not until you tell me why.”

Kagami grumbled himself and looked away. “....your skirt....” He said it so quietly that you have to give a little ‘hn?’ and he repeated, “your skirt. It keeps riding up when you cheer. I can’t practice right.....”

You blink in confusion, then blush. You hadn’t thought about your skirt coming up when you cheered. Now you felt embarrassed.

You took his jacket and put it on. Obviously swimming in it with your boyfriend’s large frame, which was good for once because it fell past your skirt for coverage. “Is this better Kagami-kun?”

The red head’s eyes went a little wide, and his cheeks darked to almost the shade of his hair. “N-N-No!” He exclaimed, taking you by surprise, before he looked away and scratched his head. “Now you look even cuter......”

Kise

“It was so nice of manager-san to give me this skirt. I can’t believe I own something from a designer now!”

Kise grumbled beside you as you left his photoshoot. His hand attached to yours squeezing it tighter as you walked. “Kise-kun? Is something wrong?”

The blonde seemed to realize that he was frowning, and quickly bounced back to his jovial self. “What? Oh, no. Nothing’s wrong [Y/N]-cchi. Just tired I guess.” You give a suspicious hum at Kise. Knowing that when he did 180s like this that something really was wrong.

“Kise, you know you can tell me anything. If something wrong, just tell me.”

“It’s....your skirt.” He finally confessed. Looking slightly to the left, away from you. “I’m all for fashion, and it was really nice of manager-san to give it to you, but....it’s too short. And I didn’t want to say anything because I sound like a cranky old man, but it’s true! [Y/N]-cchi’s perfect legs are only for me! I don’t want anyone else to see them!”

You snicker at Kise’s outburst. He could really be so silly sometimes.

“If you didn’t want me to wear it, then why didn’t you say anything.”

“I didn’t want to insult manager-san.” He told you. “He’s helped a lot with my career. And he really was being so nice to you. Plus, green is not my color.” Meaning he was jealous.

You giggle again and lean up to give him a kiss. “Lets head back to my place then and I’ll take it off. I’ll put on something more ‘appropriate’ for you.”

“Or....maybe don’t.” His hand squeezed yours again, only this time his face held on to a bright grin when he looked at you.

“We’ll see.”

Kuroko

You fiddle with the charm on your phone as you head down the street, leaving your apartment to go meet Kuroko.

He was supposed to meet you at your house, but when you didn't see him outside you just assumed that he got mixed up and went to the bookstore you had been planning to go to instead. Boys could be so spacey sometimes.

"Short," you jump a little at the sound behind you, seeing Kuroko there. "Your skirt is short."

"K-Kuroko-kun! Don't scare me like that! Wait....what?" It took you a minute to process what Kuroko was saying, being startled like that. "My skirt is too short?"

"Yes." Kuroko replied in his normal, soft tone, with a little nod. "It's too short."

You grumble a little and stamp your foot. "Who are you to tell me my skirt is too short??"

"No one I guess. But, I'm your boyfriend." He said. As if you needed to be reminded. "And I don't like other people staring at you, [Y/N]-kun." You blink once back at him. You hadn't noticed anyone staring. Nor had you noticed the slight tightening in Kuroko's fist until now. "It's why I've been following behind you for a while now. To keep your butt safe."

You let out a startled squeal and swat Kuroko in the arm as your cheeks turn red. "D-Don't say stuff like that!" You scold while he rubbed his arm. But...maybe he was right. Maybe it was too short. "Fine. Follow me home and I'll go change."

"Right behind you." Kuroko said with a smirk as he came along.

Midorima

‘Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!’ You repeated over and over in your mind as you sprinted in a mad dash towards school.

You alarm hadn’t gone off, and it was honestly a miracle you had woken up even remotely close to the time with just enough time to make it out the door in a panic. If you some how made it to school on time you would never forget to set your alarm again!!

Cresting the hill, you see the gates to the school coming into view. And, more importantly, Midorima standing there. He was always on time, so he must have been waiting for you. Your heart swelled at the thought of it, and it gave you the extra boost to run fast towards him.

“Midorima-kun!”

“Don’t shout. In any case why are you so -- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WEARING?!?!”

You come to an abrupt halt in front of your boyfriend. Not expecting that response when you got close to him. “W-What? My uniform?”

“That’s not your uniform! That skirt is too short!”

You look down and turn about as red as Midorima was as you realize the skirt you had pulled out of your closet was your middle school uniform skirt. Not your high school one. They looked close enough in color you hadn’t noticed, and thought the ‘breeze’ was from you running. Could this day get any worse!!

There was movement out of the corner of your eye and you look up from your moping to see a field of green being offered to you. “The Oha Asa is never wrong.”

“M-Midorima-kun.....” You feel like you’re about to cry as you take the scarf and wrap it around your waist. This would do, for now. At least until you could get to your gym locker after first period.

“Let’s go. We’ll be late for class.”

You smile at Midorima and fall in beside him as you head to class. Spirts lifted. Maybe you should listen to the Oha Asa more too.

Murasakibara

"What is the process called when an animal reproduces with itself? Is it A) Biomorphic reproduction? B) Symbiotic reproduction? Or C) Asexual reproduction? ....Mura-kun....? Mura-kun? Are you even listening to me?!"

"Ccccccaaaannnn'ttt...." Murasakibara whined from his place across from you at the table. Looking rather comical scrunched up like that.

"Jeez Mura-kun. I offer to help you study. The least you can do is pay attention."

"Ehh.... I can't. [Y/N]-chin is trying to seduce me."

"W-What??"

The towering teen smirked before he licked the potato chip salt off his fingers, then tugged at the hem of your skirt. "[Y/N]-chin's legs look like tasty mochi. I can't resist."

Your cheeks turn pink and you bat his hand away before returning to your book. "Y-Your...You're not going to get out of this so easy Murasakibara-kun! You need to study!"

Murasakibara frowned with a low hum of disappointment before retuning to his potato chips. "I'd rather have mochi......"

[myherowritings]

PART 4. HOW THE RICH SUCK THEIR OWN DICKS

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.9k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. enji makes an appearance bleh, enji being classist, enji...ew, okay i swear most of the chapter is shouto and y/n being cute though 

A/N. ngl i have genshin brainrot real bad at the moment but i still have motivation for ceo!shouto and ceo!shouto only u.u there are only 7 parts to this series so we’re at the halfway mark already AHHH i hope u enjoy reading and lmk what u think!! :3 xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

Shouto’s day went from good to bad faster than it took to pull an espresso. 

It started off with a good morning text from you and having a brief, but pleasant, interaction at your work. Actually, the past few weeks have been going along a similar routine that he found himself settling into all too comfortably. You even upheld your promise of stealing him away one weekend to walk around the park, get food, and just have time to relax and be happy for once. 

Getting to be in your presence almost daily became so normalized in his life that even some of his employees heard about the cute barista with the best pastries. Yet, although he saw you often, he found himself wanting to talk to you more and more.

But for now, Shouto told himself to settle with starting the mornings off with you. They were the best mornings he’s had in a while and he didn’t want to sound ungrateful. 

Today, however, went sour fast after he heard his father was coming up to the top floor for a meeting with him. He didn’t find the idea of Enji visiting to be the most abhorrent thing, but the moment his father opened his mouth, Shouto quickly took that back. 

As expected, his father reminded him about the annual charity gala Todoroki Enterprises was expected to attend. Handfuls of galas ran through the year, but the once hosted by Naruhata Industries under the guise of raising money and awareness for the charities of choice.

In theory, a charity gala ball sounded humanitarian and a way for the upper class to give back, but in reality, most of the funds collected didn’t go to the actual charities, instead they went to paying for the venue, live bands, entertainment, the most expensive catering, decorations, and more. What presented itself as a charitable event in the eyes of the public was really a way rich people could flaunt their wealth and feel good about themselves for doing absolutely nothing to benefit society. A way for the rich to suck their own dicks, if you would. 

Shouto absolutely hated it. 

It was also a press opportunity and, in his father’s eyes, a way to gain public favor for the Todoroki business. Today, Enji attempted to tell him that bringing a date that fit the mold of high society was the best way for him to establish rapport through media coverage. Apparently, the image news outlets have placed on Shouto were either a heartbreaker and playboy with no care for other’s emotions, or a monotonous stoic who seemed like a robot with no care for other’s emotions.

In either cases, there seemed to be a theme of Shouto not caring for others. 

He sighed. 

“You can’t keep that image, Shouto,” said Enji with his arms folded across his chest. “If the media sees you with someone—a nice girl with a good upbringing—then your likeability will increase tenfold. If there’s no one you like, I’ll have to set up a date for you.”

For a while, he was torn between telling his dad to fuck off and trying to do as he said to keep peace within the family. But then, an image of you popped into his head.

“Actually, there is someone I like.” 

Enji narrowed his eyes. “Oh? An educated girl with wealthy parents?”

“There’s someone I like,” he simply repeated, the tone in his voice growing cold. 

He didn’t know anything about your upbringing or family nor did he exactly care. Shouto didn’t want to bring a date to the dumb gala, but if he had to, he would want it to be you. Only if you agreed, of course. But if you weren’t willing, then he had to face the facts that his father would most likely force a date of his own choosing upon Shouto. 

“That’s good you like someone, son,” Enji said through his teeth, “but we have to make sure it’s not some sort of...loose woman. That’d be even worse publicity—”

“I like someone and if you really cared about my happiness like you said you did, that’d be enough.”

There was a tense silence in the air. Shouto didn’t have enough fingers to count the number of times Enji had told him and his siblings that he would try to be a better dad. A caring dad who only wanted what was best for his children. A better husband for Rei. A better example for the public. The first few times, Shouto believed it. But Enji said the same things over and over again with no lasting change and Shouto was just fed up. 

After hearing the same lie told to him over and over again, it seemed to lose its weight. He seemed to lose his hope in his father ever changing.

Still, Shouto had to deal with him for as long as he lived. That much he knew as a son living in this society. 

But he hoped Enji at least had enough guilt to let him have this.

“Fine.”

Shouto blinked in surprise. 

Enji stated, “If you think your date can help your public image and not be a complete embarrassment to the business, you can bring them.”

That was the closest thing to approval Shouto would get today. He nodded and listened along to whatever else his father had to say, the only thing actually on his mind was thinking about how he would ask you out on a date to some stuffy gala. And hope that you’d say yes.

— ✩ —

“Wait, so, let me get this straight— You’re the CEO of Todoroki Enterprises and even after almost two months of knowing you, I had no clue?”

He inclined his head, looking solemn. “Yes, I’m sorry. Are you upset with me for not telling you sooner?” 

Initial shock aside, you couldn’t say that you were too surprised at the revelation. You knew Shouto was wealthy and probably in some high-up position in the business industry, but you never knew to what extent. A CEO? That had to be the highest rank in a company! And a company as well known as Todoroki Enterprises? 

The thought made you a little nervous. The guy you slowly befriended over the course of short cafe visits and silly texts was Mr. Todoroki? Or worse— The guy you stole away from doing work for a whole weekend was someone as busy as a CEO? You internally groaned. That had to be against laws of the universe or something. 

“I’m not upset, no,” you said with a shake of your head. “I just...can’t believe it I guess.” Eyes widening, you were quick to amend your words. “Well, I can believe it. You seem very intelligent and well-put together and, uh, rich! But I guess I just didn’t think a CEO would be so funny and kind.” You winced. “Oh no, is that mean to say?”

“I don’t think it’s mean.” He shrugged. “You’re right to say most people in this field aren’t known for their delightful temperaments.” 

You absentmindedly drummed your finger against your thigh, trying to process this new information. “So you’re Todoroki Shouto...and you want me to be your date to the Naruhata Charity Ball?” 

“Yeah. I know it’s a huge favor to ask, and I promise you can say no if you choose,” said Shouto in earnest. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to agree.” 

With a hum, you stretched your legs out under the table before crossing one over the other again. It was a Saturday afternoon where you had no work and Shouto managed to escape from his for a few hours of the day. You took him to your favorite ice cream place nearby and the two of you ate at a dining area outside the establishment. 

Just a mundane day as two friends hanging out with each other where you found out one of those friends was the chief executive officer of a billion dollar business headquartered in Japan. 

Totally normal, everyday occurrences, obviously. 

“And you need a date for this event?” you asked. In all honesty, you would be more than happy if Shouto asked you out on a date. He was fun and you enjoyed getting to know him. But these particular circumstances made you a tad bit more nervous.

“I normally wouldn’t need to bring one, but my father insists it’d help my public image and in turn the image of the company.” With a pinched look on his face, he took a bite of his ice cream. “In other words I bring a date or he picks one for me.” 

You weren’t the most caught up on super rich people drama, but it was almost infamous how estranged the Todoroki family was. Again, you didn’t know much but you did know enough to say that Todoroki Enji seemed like a Class A asshole. If you could help Shouto out with his weird dilemma, you saw no reason not to. 

“So this charita gala is like where they have those live auctions and silent auctions and get tipsy on fancy wine and champagne for hours right?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Yeah. Have you attended one?” 

“Not quite,” you said with a sheepish smile. “I’ve volunteered at one in school though. As one of those runners? It was fun. I got a bunch of those tiny complimentary candies!” Your mouth watered at the memory. “What kind of drug were in those candies? I’ve never had candy so good before!”

“The tiny, circular candies with the excessively big wrapper? The fruity ones?”

You shot up in your seat, excited he knew what you were talking about. “Yes! That’s the one!” 

The corners of his mouth quirked upwards. “I always see those at these types of events.”

“So… The candy will be there at the gala you want me to accompany you to?” 

“Most likely.”

“Can I take a bunch of those from candies there…?” you asked with an optimistic grin.

“I’ll be your accomplice in sneaking them out.”

“It’s a date!” you said before Shouto could get another word out. 

You’d be reunited with those yummy, fancy candies you’ve been separated from for far too long. What other reason did you need to agree? 

With a determined look on your face, you held your hand out for Shouto to shake to seal the deal. 

He blinked. “Wait. Did you want to discuss it some more? Maybe have a few days to think it through? I’m grateful, of course, but I don’t want you regretting anything.”

“No. I won’t regret it. I’d do anything to taste those candies again.”

Shouto looked unsure what to say. “Isn’t there some parable warning people not to be bribed by candy?”

“Not to take candy from a baby?”

“No. Not that one.”

“That’s the only one I know.”

“Never mind then.” 

The two of you exchanged confused looks before letting out fits of laughter. You weren’t sure if either of you knew exactly what the other was laughing at, but the moment was an enjoyable one nonetheless. 

“Yet another reason to bring me to that fancy event— I’ll make sure you’re entertained all the way through,” you playfully bragged, smoothing down the front of your shirt. 

“The event will definitely be more bearable with you there.” He licked a small bit of his ice cream from his pink spoon, making a sound of approval. “But you can change your mind about coming at any time, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” you said, holding a pinky out. “Pinky promise.”

With what seemed like a bashful expression on his face, Shouto extended his own pinky to interlock yours. You sealed it with a kiss and a heart, like you were a kid again. 

“Now, am I supposed to be in love with you at the gala?” you asked nonchalantly, finishing off your last bite of ice cream. He offered you a spoonful of his and you tried not to grow too flustered at Shouto feeding you his dessert. You murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”

He gave you a small smile. “You’re welcome. As for being in love… I don’t think that’s necessary. Just pretend you like being around me, I think.”

Under the table, you nudged his shoe with yours, pulling a face. “I don’t have to pretend about that, silly.” 

“Ah, well,” he paused, offering you another spoonful of ice cream, “I don’t either.”

“I’m glad.” Then, “Is this strawberry? I was never a big strawberry ice cream fan but for some reason this tastes so good.” 

You ignored the nagging voice in your head that said maybe it wasn’t so much the ice cream flavor but who you were enjoying it with. 

The two of you finished his dessert in peace and after cleaning up the area with a napkin, Shouto turned to you with an intent look on his face.

“Before the gala, would you mind if I talk you shopping so you could pick out what to wear?” he asked. “I would pay of course— It’s the least I could do to say thank you.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me! You’re my friend and I want to help.” You thought about it for a moment. “And get the candy.”

“Anything for the candy.”

“Exactly,” you said in complete seriousness. “But I wouldn’t mind going shopping with you. You could help me decide what to wear! I’m not exactly sure how to dress for an event as fancy as this.”

“You could wear anything to the event and still look amazing.” His words were ones of flattery but his tone sounded completely genuine. 

Heat rose to your cheeks at the compliment. “Look who’s talking— You’re practically runway ready no matter what time of day.”

“I’ve never walked a runway before.”

You stifled a laugh at his literal interpretation of your words. Cute. “Me neither.”

He looked confused at why you were grinning, but it still brought a smile to his own lips.

By now the sun had begun to set and Shouto was walking you to the train to see you off before you went home.

“Can I pick you up next weekend in the morning?” he said. “So we can get your outfit for the gala?”

“Sure! I’ll text you my address.” 

He nodded in contentment. “And again, you don’t have to worry about any costs.”

“Is this why my friends have called you a sugar daddy?” you teased, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked down the street, side-by-side. “But thank you. Shopping will be fun— We can even match colors!” 

“Mn.” He looked between the both of you, as if trying to picture what colors would complement each other. 

You crossed the sidewalk in a comfortable silence, enjoying the scenery by Shouto’s side. A few times, you even felt his knuckles brush against yours and you had the undeniable urge to hold his hand. Would that be weird? you asked yourself before deciding against it. 

Just because he asked you to be his date for the Naruhata Charity Ball didn’t mean he actually liked you, right? It was just a favor from a friend to a friend.

Something about that though made your stomach unsettled. Maybe part of you wanted it to be a real date— Wanted this to be a real date. 

“So I won’t be seeing you tomorrow,” you said after a moment’s silence, trying not to look too dejected. 

You knew he’d still text good morning and good night and ask you random things throughout the day (all of which you found really endearing, by the way), but it was still different from seeing him in person. Even though your time together in the morning was small, they still were enough to make your day. The thought of your waking hours being so entwined made you nervous, but for some reason it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. In fact, it was sort of...nice. 

“I’ll see you Monday morning, right?” you asked hopefully, though you were already fairly certain of the answer.

Shouto nodded. “Of course. It’s already marked on my calendar.”

“Ever the flatterer, hmm?” 

“Not flattery, just the truth.” He pulled his phone out and showed you his (rather packed) calendar app. To your surprise, a little reminder that said ‘See Y/N :)’ was marked on his Monday schedule. 

Unable to stop the beam from spreading across your lips, you hid your face in your hands. Gosh— Did he have to be so cute? He was making it harder and harder to only like him as a friend. And even now, you weren’t sure if you liked him only as a friend.

But you pushed those thoughts away.

That was something to deal with at a later time.

When you reached the train station you normally took home, you turned to Shouto, giving him a big hug. He was tall and warm. You could feel his lean muscles through his button-down shirt as you rested your head against his chest and arms around his waist. 

“Thanks for today,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you again soon.”

After a pause, he gave you a hug back, hands rubbing hesitant circles on your back in a way that made you smile. “Text me when you get home safe,” he said as you both reluctantly released each other from an embrace.

“I will,” you promised. “You do the same! Later, Shouto!” 

And with that, you waved goodbye and boarded the train, unable to shake the unwavering grin on your face all the way home.

a/n: when shouto started feeding y/n spoonfuls of his ice cream i cried (Ｔ▽Ｔ) that’s so cUTE OF HIM LIKE PLS SIR STOP BEFORE I FALL MORE IN LOVE WITH U !! >:O he’s such a sweetheart ahhhh,, i hope all the fluff made up for the brief appearance of endeavor ಠ╭╮ಠ  FHDJKF 

what to expect in the next part:

shopping for the gala time !! 

y/n struggles with their fEeLiNGs~ part 2

oh my, y/n has to try on dresses? oh my, it’d be a shame if they needed help putting it on :o *fake gasp* 

yeah things get just a lil steamy but shh

[multiplefandomsblog]

request; I am lusting for the emo boy 👉👈 Could I get something where the reader gives him a bj after he had a stressful day

warnings; bj, deep-throating, cussing, cum-eating, shuichi is receiving, reader is gender-neutral.

note; im trying to think of a song to go with this hold up- (yes thats all i have for my note, im running out of things to say-)

OH SHIT YES!!! SANGRIA?? BY EASY LIFE??? ARLO PARKS??? OR GET YOU BY DANIEL CAESER!!!!!

wc; 2k+

Slapping the screen of his work computer shut, the sudden and loud noise kept him awake for just a little longer. Shuichi brought both of his cold hands to his face, rubbing the eye bags that had formed as a result of his overworking and lack of sleep.

“God…” It took him everything he had to not yell into his slightly trembling hands. His fingers tangled themselves in his hair as he stood up from the chair that had made his backside ache, breathing out the pent-up stress he had cultivated throughout the… He checked his watch, drooping eyes barely able to read the hands of the miniature clock. 

—The twelve hours of sitting down, typing in and submitting in files, piled onto files regarding a tough case. He’d be lying if he wasn’t at least a little used to this shit work ethic. 

The first thought his mind allowed him to possess after draining his brain completely out of energy, had been, ‘S/o...-, I hope they didn’t forget to eat today.’ He hadn’t gotten the chance to monitor you, nor text or call you; his phone, to kick off the day, hadn’t charged properly the day before, leaving his phone with 3%. The moment he had tried to text you mid-way through his extended work period, his phone had given up on him, leaving him frustrated and worried. 

Sighing, he quickly packed up his things, ready to leave the suffocating, but honestly quite nicely designed office— to see you. He was so close to just falling asleep on the nice, cold surface of his computer, but the thought of you waking up to an empty bed had his heart, crumbling over something he hadn’t done yet. And hadn’t planned to do, either. 

Exiting the office, he called a taxi as he was too deprived of sleep to safely drive.

---------------------------------------------------------—

Hearing the door open, you immediately rushed to the front door, almost slipping on the waxy surface of the wood floor against your fuzzy socks. 

Pulling back, your eyes held a different emotion as you gazed into Shuichi’s tired but loving orbs; your eyes no longer contained the same soul-crushing worry for him. Instead, they had held a needy lust. Could you blame yourself? It had been twelve hours. Shuichi let out a quiet startled noise as you started dragging him to the couch, he did nothing but let you; too tired to ask what you were doing despite having the sneaking suspicion he already knew. No one can overlook a stare like that; you’d have to be blind to. 

Pushing him onto the couch with little effort, he watched with intrigued eyes as you got to your knees and sat in between his knees, your own gaze locking onto his as you lowered yourself to the point where you had to crane your neck to properly see his pretty, flushed face. 

Golden eyes flashed in need, small whines spilling from his trembling lips as he slightly parted his thighs for you to drag your fingers further up into. “You worked all day, Shuichi… C’mon, just a taste?” You looked up at him, doe eyes pleading and tongue swiping across your bottom lip entrancingly, as Shuichi’s golden eyes followed the glistening muscle. He could already imagine your tongue swirling around the tip of his— 

“A-a little… A little taste. Please.” Ten hours of neglect, and the craving for his musk only augmented with each agonizing second that passed by. His eyes widened at the sultry tone you equipped; had he really worked so long to the point you were on your knees for him? “I...”

Yes, yes he had. It had been twelve hours, and you were worried sick. Not only that, the poor boy looked so tense and stressed, it had given you the urge to just strap him to the bed and force him to sleep, and nothing else. Knowing him, he wouldn’t have allowed himself the proper amount of hours of sleep, and food he needed to stay alive.

A part of him didn’t want to take advantage of your state, but a part of him already knew you wouldn’t let up until you got what you wanted; it’s not like he detested the idea of getting sucked off. “O-okay.”

He let out a small gasp as he felt you suddenly play with the zipper of his pants, your fingers ‘accidentally’ brushing against the growing erection he hadn’t noticed he had. You watched him carefully, fighting the urge to laugh as he arched his back against the couch; you didn’t want to embarrass him, you simply wanted to help him de-stress. 

Deciding you’d focus more on him than your own sadistic desires, you quickly halted your teasing and zipped open his fly, wasting no time to reach down the waistband of his navy blue boxers and pin-striped pants, erupting a gasp from him as he hadn’t been expecting it to escalate so fast.

Gingerly, you pulled out the hardening cock that seemed to twitch in your hold, only causing you to smile at the cute reaction. Though Shuichi’s facial expression had been incomparable to his cock. You had barely down anything to him, and his whole entire face flushed red, a hand already clamped over his mouth that concealed the lip he had been chewing at so aggressively. 

Stroking your thumb over the pretty pink tip of his cock, you cooed at it, already finding yourself craning your neck down to kiss the tip of it, causing Shuichi to jolt up from the light but impactive pressure on the tip of his cock. He found himself getting more alert, differing from his previous state of mind where he had barely been able to register what had been happening at the door.

Tired, lolling eyes from earlier converted into wide, lustfully lidded golden eyes that bore into your own coloured irises. The only difference between the two pairs of eyes had been the soft domineering gaze you set upon the boy who seemed to be putty in your hands and mouth. 

Winking at him, you felt confidence grow in you as you heard him slightly whimper and wine through the futile coverage of his hand over his mouth, and so, with suave, you slid the eager cock into your mouth, tapping it over your lips and tongue before deciding to suck the entire thing in, in one go. The near-scream Shuichi emitted definitely helped you take the entirety of him inside your mouth. 

You let out a small hiccup as you felt him throbbing in your throat, eyes wide and nose deep in the base of his shaft as your lips had almost been able to kiss the base of his cock. Keyword; almost.

With tear-filled eyes, you moaned onto his cock that only seemed to fit in half of your mouth before you started gagging. The small choked gasps from your side seemed to be in earshot of Shuichi, as he reached down to check on you- his hand was caught mid-way as you took a deep breath through your nose and fit the rest of his length down your throat. At this point, tears had been falling down your face uncontrollably, and you had been too busy massaging the base of his cock and balls to try and wipe them off.

“S-S/o— Y-you shouldn’t- F-fuck, I’m already so close, please don’t stop…!” He whined in a broken voice, head spinning and eyes rolling to the back of his head as he practically heaved out pants against the couch behind him. You felt your own thighs tremble as you heard him lose character, cussing; something you didn’t know he’d ever do. It sounded foreign in his voice, but was it strange that you actually liked how it sounded?

Moans and pleas spilled out of his drooling mouth like a running faucet; he noticed it only seemed to egg you on, in which, he wasn’t sure he liked or feared. He was highly certain he wouldn’t be able to last long—the thought hit him like an 80-pound brick as you dragged your tongue on the sensitive underside of his cock. “Hhnn- Ah—!” He let out an embarrassingly high moan, though he didn’t seem to care enough to tend to the humiliation, as he had currently been occupying his mind with the fact you had been sucking him off and sucking him off good.

His neck and thighs twitched as he writhed, not able to hold back the urge to pull your hair as he felt like he was going to lose it if he didn’t. Reaching down quickly, he yanked your hair upwards, in a force that didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. It seems, even during moments like these he was always gentle with you. 

Rewarding him for the action, you hummed muffled praises he couldn’t hear, but could definitely feel the effect of it against his cock. Vibrations shot up from between his legs to up the trail of his spine, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body. 

You felt his clammy hand that had kept hold of your hair, push you down onto his length roughly, causing you to stifle a surprised choke as you felt his tip hit the very back of your throat. “S-Shui—” You couldn’t even say half his name properly. 

With tears streaming down your face, you shut yourself up and took it, bobbing your head up and down faster—to which he rewarded you with shaky, blissful sobs. God, did you wish you could see his expression right now. 

At the thought, your slightly red eyes darted up to his face, which seemed to be staring right back at you with his own tear-brimmed gaze. “S-S/o...!” He whined out, a few stray tears falling as he felt his climax approach him. Throwing his head back, you lost sight of his flushed, slobbering face as he rested the back of his neck against the couch. 

“Close..! Close! Hah- Hnngg! Please, I need to- to—!” Shuichi cut himself off, mouth contorting into an ‘O’ shape as he tensed his thighs underneath your clawed grip, feeling his well-deserved orgasm finally hit him. You suctioned your mouth around his length especially hard, eyes squeezing shut as you felt him pulsating against the walls of your sore throat.

You could feel the milky white, nearly translucent cum shoot down your throat and, as you usually do, you let it slip down your throat with no complaints—and it wasn’t as if you could try spitting it out; Shuichi’s cock had been so far down your throat, he had been practically been shooting it directly down your throat, giving you no chance to swallow. 

You felt his cock shudder, twitch and go flaccid in your mouth; so with a final drag of your lips, you trapped any leftover semen within the insides of your lips and licked whatever had escaped the bindings of your aching mouth. Shuichi remained heaving against the couch, his hand that had previously been holding onto your hair with a death-grip, weakened and dropped to the side of your face.

Bringing his head back down from the thrown back position on the couch, he stared down at you who had still been seated between his legs, your cheek resting against his thigh as you watched him with a soft and infatuated gaze. After such a feat, to look at him like that; he felt like he was on cloud 9. He truly wondered what he had done to deserve a blow job like that, and someone like you to give him such a thing after neglecting you for twelve hours, he felt terrible for you yet also fortunate to have you. His gaze, despite still fucked-out and slightly mind-blown, held worry for you. 

With his already red face going even more crimson, he brought his hand down to the side of your head to stroke your face tenderly. Still heaving out pants, he stuttered out quiet words of gratification, “... T-thank you. For that.” To which you only grinned cheekily at, head turning to gently nibble and kiss at the inside of his thigh, causing a small yelp to erupt from him. 

Your hand gripped onto his thigh, making sure to immobilize him and his squirming as you sucked a hickey onto his thigh. “Hh-!” Shuichi could only whimper at the pressure, his free hand going up to wipe away the tears that formed from earlier, and the ones that had been forming currently.